ATEG Chapter 86.1

The old Daoist, upon seeing this face, merely furrowed his brow, though his complexion showed no change. He had long since discerned the ghostly aura emanating from the woman. Ghosts often presented terrifying visages to frighten people, but a terrifying appearance was merely an external facade. As long as one’s mind remained undisturbed, what difference was there between these external forms and spring flowers or autumn moonlight? Even if one couldn’t achieve such unwavering composure, seeing such things often enough would make them lose their power to frighten.

The young Daoist following behind the old one, however, had not yet cultivated such steadiness. His breathing froze for a moment before resuming. Meanwhile, the little Daoist child being carried in the basket on his back kept his head half-lowered throughout, showing no reaction whatsoever.

Yue Niang laughed—a sound as clear and melodious as silver bells in an empty valley. But when she laughed, the movement of muscles on that skinless face made it appear even more horrifying.

“What do you see when you look at me?” She tilted her head, asking as if curious.

The old Daoist snorted coldly and addressed Marquis Wu, “I have no time for your ghostly tricks. You’ve wantonly slaughtered your own believers—today you must answer for this!”

“Ah, I understand now. You also see me without a face,” Yue Niang said softly. “You’re all the same.”

“Daoist Master, don’t be hasty. Having cultivated for so long, you should have some patience.” She looked at the yellow paper being produced from the old Daoist’s sleeve, enunciating each of the three names written at the top. “Ding Wang, Liu Si, Han Sheng… they were all my brother’s classmates, students of Shanji Academy. They could read and write, learn principles and reason—talented scholars, just like you, Daoist Master. They could learn so many things…”

“But not me. What I learned was different from all of you. I learned to make cords and embroider. My embroidery was excellent—the finest embroiderer at the Brocade Workshop in the city took one look at my foundation and accepted me as her student. She said my work had spiritual energy. I was best at embroidering figures, especially beautiful women—powder-white faces with peach-blossom cheeks, eyes full of tender emotion. I embroidered very well, but embroidery doesn’t teach principles.”

As Yue Niang poured wine, she spoke in soft, gentle tones, “When you’re good at embroidery, you become popular. Many orders came for my work, including from the Qinghong Pavilion. You probably don’t know much about the Qinghong Pavilion—it’s a place men like to visit for pleasure, where rouge, powder, silk, and jewelry are used most frequently and abundantly. Naturally, they also use many embroidered goods.”

“These things are rarely for personal use. Mostly they’re small items like handkerchiefs and sachets, given as gifts to clients. What do men know about such things? When the women there claim they embroidered them themselves, the clients usually believe them. Many students from Shanji Academy were regulars there…”

…

Shanji Academy.

Several students gathered to discuss the matter of Han, Liu, and Ding and Marquis Wu’s Temple.

“Should we go visit them?” someone asked hesitantly.

“Forget it. Those kinds of families… I don’t want to go.”

“But our teacher taught us to be righteous. In the prime of youth, yet condemned to have their souls taken to be paired with ghost-brides—it was just a joke. Marquis Wu is being too harsh.”

“They brought it on themselves. Being so arrogant, how could they not invite disaster?”

“Though the three of them aren’t usually good people, this is going too far. Can you guarantee you’ll never say the wrong thing in jest your entire life? It was just saying one wrong thing.”

“True… perhaps we should go see Han Sheng? As for Liu Si and Ding Wang, let’s skip them.”

Han Sheng was different from Liu Si and Ding Wang. He came from a poor family and actively sought to curry favor with them. Unlike Liu Si and Ding Wang who bullied others, he just hung around with those two. Though this was contemptible, since he followed Liu Si and Ding Wang around, they occasionally gave him some benefits. Given Han Sheng’s poverty, this was understandable.

After settling the matter, Zhu Kangning suddenly noticed that Zhuang Hai on the side had been silent the whole time, so he pulled at him. “Zhuang Hai, haven’t you always been on good terms with Han Sheng? Want to come along?”

Zhuang Hai’s face was cold and indifferent. “Going won’t solve the problem. I’m not going.”

“But…” Just as Zhu Kangning was about to say something, he was suddenly interrupted.

A student walked to the corridor and asked, “Have you heard? They’ve asked people from Xingfeng Temple to help. The Daoists from Xingfeng Temple have already gone up the mountain, and everyone on the mountain has been cleared off!”

Zhuang Hai, who had been cold and indifferent moments before, suddenly changed expression and stood up, asking, “When did this happen?”

“Just now. The people who came down from the mountain just entered the city and brought the news.”

Zhuang Hai left him behind and ran straight outside.

“Hey! Where are you going? Class will start soon!” Zhu Kangning called after him.

But Zhuang Hai seemed not to hear, disappearing in an instant.

Zhu Kangning was about to chase after him, but Liu Jiangcheng grabbed him. “Let it go.”

“How can I let it go? He’s been acting strange these past few days. Haven’t you noticed?” Zhu Kangning said anxiously.

“Of course I’ve noticed, but if he doesn’t want us involved, you should stay out of it too.” Liu Jiangcheng held him back while also looking in the direction Zhuang Hai had gone, murmuring, “I keep feeling like I’ve forgotten something…”

….

In Marquis Wu’s Temple, Yue Niang’s story continued.

“Usually the finished small items were delivered by an errand boy, but on that day, by unlucky chance, my master sent me to make a delivery. I didn’t even need to go inside—I could just hand the items to a servant girl at the door. Then I started walking back. That wasn’t inside the Qinghong Pavilion, just an ordinary place that happened to be near it…” Yue Niang’s voice grew lower and slower, as if she had lost herself in memory.

After leaving there, she hadn’t walked far when she encountered two men.

They were cursing, reeking of a sickly-sweet mixture of face powder and alcohol, their eyes and noses an ugly red from drunkenness.

She lowered her head and walked quickly, wanting to get away from them. But they grabbed her, calling out obscenities. They covered her mouth, smashed her head against the wall, dragged her into an alley…

“First those two men, then another person came looking for them. I recognized that person.” Yue Niang’s voice was faint and choked with tears. “He was my brother’s friend. He had seen me before.”

“He was probably looking for those two to bring them back. He saw me, but those two said not to spoil the fun, and he fell silent.”

“He recognized me, but he said nothing! He just watched!” Yue Niang’s voice gradually became shrill and piercing.

“He said nothing!”

….

Zhuang Hai kept running. He ran so fast his chest felt like it would explode, the roof of his mouth tasted of blood, but he didn’t stop.

He wasn’t heading to Marquis Wu’s Temple on Huqiu Mountain—going there would be useless. He needed to find Han Sheng before matters at the temple concluded.

He still remembered that day, how Han Sheng had found him, pulled him to a secluded place, and said those words.

“…By the time I got there, it was already too late. It had already happened. This matter shouldn’t be made public, or your sister won’t be able to show her face. They didn’t mean it—they were drunk and thought she was from the Qinghong Pavilion, so they… After those two sobered up, I talked with them. They’re willing to provide compensation.”

“I know they were in the wrong, but it’s already happened. If this gets out, no one benefits. Better to settle it quietly, pretend it never happened. That’s better for everyone.”

Zhuang Hai hadn’t listened to a word of it. He grabbed Han Sheng by the collar and roared, “Where is Yue Niang?”

“I sent her back to your house.”

He punched Han Sheng in the face and ran home.

….

“Brother was right. If this matter got out, their families have power and money—they could pay compensation and move to another city where no one knows them. After hiding for a few years, it would blow over. Even if word spread, it would just be youthful indiscretion, drunken mistakes that have now been corrected. Isn’t there a saying: ‘A prodigal son who returns is worth more than gold’?”

“But if it got out, I would be ruined. Everyone would know what happened to me. Everyone would point and whisper about me. I wouldn’t be able to show my face.”

Yue Niang’s voice echoed low in the great hall. “So I agreed. We took their families’ money and acted as if it never happened.”

…

“Han Sheng!” Zhuang Hai slammed the door open to see Han Sheng’s shocked face.

“Zhuang Hai… what brings you here?” Han Sheng asked, barely maintaining his patience.

Zhuang Hai’s chest heaved violently, sweat soaking through his outer garment, but his eyes locked onto Han Sheng. “Where are Liu Si and Ding Wang?”

Han Sheng frowned: “Zhuang Hai, wasn’t that matter already settled? You took the money—what more do you want now?”

“I asked you where they are!”

“What are you trying to do? I don’t have time for this right now. You took the money and now you want to make trouble—don’t you think it’s too late? If you make a scene now, you’re the one who’ll look bad!” Han Sheng said unkindly.

He felt he had done nothing to wrong Zhuang Hai. He wasn’t the one who violated Yue Niang. Right now he was worried sick about the Marquis Wu affair—how could he have the energy to deal with Zhuang Hai? Moreover, if this matter had been exposed right away, Liu Si and Ding Wang would indeed have faced serious trouble. Violating a classmate’s sister could ruin most of their prospects. But now that Zhuang Hai had already taken their money, if he made trouble now, there would be too much room for argument. If the litigation master was ruthless enough, he could completely twist this into Zhuang Hai coveting the Liu and Ding families’ power, willingly selling his sister, and then being greedy for more, trying to extort them further.

Zhuang Hai raised his hand. His sleeve fell back, revealing something aimed steadily at Han Sheng.

“A crossbow? Where did you get that?!” Han Sheng cried out.

“Where are they now?” Zhuang Hai stared at him intently. “Because of the Marquis Wu affair, those two must be together now, but they can’t be at the Liu or Ding residences. They won’t let you join them, but you must know where they are.”

“Is this necessary?” Han Sheng stared at the crossbow bolt, sweat beading on his forehead. “We can negotiate any conditions, but if you kill someone, you’ll be completely ruined.”

“Yue Niang is dead,” Zhuang Hai said.

Han Sheng’s mind went blank. He looked at Zhuang Hai, meeting those eyes that were both calm and crazed.

“Yue Niang… how could she be dead? Didn’t she come to terms with it?”

….

“How did you die?” The young Daoist finally couldn’t help but ask.

Since Yue Niang had decided to settle the matter privately, she must have wanted to live on. The Liu and Ding families had paid their money and had no need to harm Yue Niang further. How could she have ended up like this?

Yue Niang raised her hand to touch her face. That hand was delicate and nimble, and though it showed the pale blue-white color of a ghostly form, it wasn’t horrifying—rather, it looked like it was carved from the finest jade. But when it rested on that skinless face, it created an indescribably eerie and cold effect.

“Because… one day, suddenly everyone knew about it.” She slowly stroked her face. “I heard it was one of those two who, while drunk, bragged about me as if I were a trophy.”

….

“You just don’t remember.” Zhuang Hai looked coldly at Han Sheng.

Liu Si, while drunk, had bragged to his drinking buddies that his sister tasted good—if they didn’t believe him, they could ask Ding Wang.

That day at the academy, everyone’s glances were secretive and strange. He still didn’t know what had happened when Liu Jiangcheng pulled him aside and quietly told him.

No one knew what Zhuang Hai thought at that moment. He clenched his hands so hard they bled, but he had no time to do anything. He ran to Marquis Wu’s Temple and knelt there all night, begging Marquis Wu to erase the words that had spread.

That night, the yin spirits of the county worked through the night, entering dreams one by one to alter people’s memories. But in the latter half of the night, as dawn approached, the incense he had placed before him suddenly broke.

A yin spirit pressed close to his ear, speaking in a faint, delicate voice. “Go home.”

His mind was in chaos. Thinking Marquis Wu had gone back on his word, he was about to kowtow again when he found he couldn’t complete a second bow.

The yin spirit stopped him. Though he couldn’t see it, he could hear its voice. The spirit told him that since Marquis Wu had made a promise, he would certainly see it through, even if the matter had already become meaningless—but he should go home now.

He sensed something ominous in those words. When he stumbled home, he found Yue Niang with a pair of scissors buried in her chest.

….

“‘How does she still have the face to go out?’ That’s probably what they said, right?” Yue Niang’s fingers slowly traced across her skinless face. “So after I died, I also had no face.”

“But there are many things I don’t understand. Learning embroidery doesn’t teach you principles, so I want to ask you—the students at the academy study the principles of being human. They all think I have no face to show people. You study the principles of heaven and earth…” Yue Niang raised her eyes to stare at the old Daoist. “When you look at me now, do you also see me as faceless?”

In the old Daoist’s eyes reflected a faceless visage. He suddenly felt his hand burn—the yellow paper written in blood suddenly burst into flames.

His heart lurched. Xingfeng Temple had once sworn not to willingly set foot in Marquis Wu’s domain. This petition written in blood by Marquis Wu’s believers was their guarantee of safe passage here.

Without time to think further, he called out. “You died by suicide—how can all the blame be placed on those three? Even if it were a life for a life, it shouldn’t cost three lives! This is still unjust!”

The flames on the yellow paper gradually died, leaving a small portion. At the top of the paper, only the charred name of Han Sheng and half of Ding’s name remained.

Yue Niang’s hand suddenly withdrew from pouring wine. The sound of pouring ceased, and countless shrieks of resentment suddenly echoed through the hall.

“If I have no face to show people, why should they have the face to live in this world?!”

The old Daoist couldn’t help but let out a pained groan. The young Daoist had already lost his footing, collapsing to the ground in pain, covering his ears.