That night, Song Xiaozhou stayed in the room where Lu Heng had lived.
Although it had long stood vacant, the interior remained spotless, the furnishings free of even a trace of dust. It was very strange; if Lu Xuan truly hated Lu Heng, why would he keep this room and have it cleaned so meticulously?
Song Xiaozhou ran his fingers along the corner of a table, rubbing them together. He looked up and saw a beautiful sword hanging on the wall with a red tassel and a charm for good fortune.
Next to the sword was a painting of a person—it was Lu Heng. He looked fifteen or sixteen, dressed in splendid clothes, full of youthful spirit, holding his sword and smiling brightly, making it hard for people to look away.
In the corner of the painting were a few words: “From younger brother Xuan to elder brother.”
“I gifted this to my elder brother on his fifteenth birthday,” a voice suddenly came from behind. “Do you think the painting looks like him?”
“Yes—” Song Xiaozhou said instinctively, then stopped and spun around. Lu Xuan stepped over the threshold and walked in, he was also looking at the painting on the wall. “Second… Second Young Master, is this the Eldest Young Master? It’s a really good painting.”
He was startled and tried to cover his surprise clumsily.
Lu Xuan smiled. His appearance was very pleasing, and his smile was exceptionally pure and harmless. “You’re not even afraid of ghosts, so why are you so afraid of me?”
Song Xiaozhou pursed his lips and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Lu Xuan gave a light “Oh,” and tilted his head back, looking at the painting on the wall. “My elder brother was born a chosen one. His mother came from a noble family and was a beautiful, talented socialite. Although my father was a philanderer, he treated my elder brother and his mother differently.”
“Everyone loved him from the time he was a child,” Lu Xuan said with a smile, looking at Song Xiaozhou. “He was like the sun in the sky. Who wouldn’t love him? Even I loved him.”
Song Xiaozhou felt uneasy and stared intently at Lu Xuan, but Lu Xuan didn’t seem to mind. “My elder brother had everything. He was especially generous to others, and even to me, his younger brother, he didn’t stint on pity.”
“You think he’s a good person?” Lu Xuan looked at Song Xiaozhou and laughed mockingly. “You’re mistaken. Someone like my elder brother, born into such lofty status, only knows how to show pity. He looks down on people like us—” he paused, fixing his gaze on Song Xiaozhou, stressing each word, “those of humble birth.”
“That’s how it was for me,” Lu Xuan said with a smile. “And it’s the same for you, especially…”
His voice was soft, making it especially chilling in the night. “Now that he’s a ghost, you foolishly trust him. How do you know he won’t kill you one day?”
Song Xiaozhou’s chest rose and fell for a few moments. He took a deep breath, looked at Lu Xuan, and said, “Second Young Master, you’ve seen stray dogs on the side of the road, right? Some people look down on them but will still give them a bowl of food or a warm bowl of porridge. But there are some who will kill them and cook them.”
“No matter what the other’s intentions may be,” Song Xiaozhou stood with his back straight, “a stray dog won’t concern itself. But there are those who, once they’ve had a taste of something good, begin to harbor all kinds of thoughts, turning into venomous snakes or savage beasts, dressing up their greed with excuses.”
Lu Xuan’s face turned grim. “You’re willing to debase yourself, and you’re incorrigible.”
“So what if you help him?” Lu Xuan sneered. “Lu Heng still looks down on you.”
Lu Xuan said, “Do you know why I found a slave to have a ghost marriage with him?”
“I just wanted to disgust him.”
Lu Xuan said this without any attempt to hide it, even laughing nervously. He looked at the painting on the scroll, tracing it with his fingers with a chilling tenderness.
Song Xiaozhou stared at Lu Xuan, momentarily speechless, unable to even curse. “You’re really—sick.”
Lu Xuan didn’t mind. “But right now, I’m the one who’s winning.”
His gaze shifted to the jade pendant at Song Xiaozhou’s waist, and his eyes showed a complex mix of emotions: apprehension, disgust, and even a hint of wanting to be close but not daring to be.
“Tell Lu Heng,” Lu Xuan said with a sweet smile, “no matter how he climbed out, if I could send him to his death, I can also make sure he can’t even be a ghost.”
Song Xiaozhou gripped the cold jade pendant tightly and said angrily, “You wish!”
Lu Xuan clapped his hands. “Tsk, how touching. My elder brother is really something else.”
Song Xiaozhou said, “Heaven sees all. If you do something so cruel, you won’t come to a good end!”
Lu Xuan raised his hand and slapped Song Xiaozhou, a harsh, clear sound. His smile remained unchanged as he said softly, “Believe it or not, I’ll send you to see Lu Heng right now.”
Song Xiaozhou’s cheek stung with a hot, throbbing pain. He held back, lowering his eyes without a word.
Lu Xuan suddenly lost interest, looking listless. He glanced at the painting on the wall, then turned and left.
“Little Brother Song,” said a young man with peach blossom eyes and a charming, amorous smile. “My name is Shen Zhi.”
Song Xiaozhou glanced at him but didn’t speak.
The three of them sat in the carriage on their way back to Jing’an Courtyard. Shen Zhi gestured with his chin toward the man in black sitting opposite him. “This is my senior brother, Liang Mu.”
“Hey, don’t be so on guard.” Shen Zhi, with his pale, jade-like skin, leaned lazily against the carriage wall. “My senior brother and I are just here to safely escort you back.”
Song Xiaozhou replied coolly, “Then I thank you both.”
“You’re welcome,” Shen Zhi said with a smile. “By your accent, Little Brother Song, are you from Lingnan? My senior brother and I also spent a long time there.”
You don’t hit a person who’s smiling. Song Xiaozhou had initially disliked them for being Lu Xuan’s men, but on the return journey, Shen Zhi was lively, cheerful, and quite likable. He glanced at Shen Zhi and gave a faint “en.”
Shen Zhi seemed to have found something interesting and gestured with his hand. “Have you heard of corpse driving? If someone dies far from home, a corpse driver will guide the bodies back to their hometown. This profession has been passed down for generations, and now only one branch remains. Two years ago, a very talented but wicked successor emerged from that branch. He caused the corpses to turn into fierce, biting corpses. Because of this, my senior brother and I went to Lingnan and stayed for a long time.”
Corpse driving and corpses were all bizarre tales from storybooks. Even though Song Xiaozhou initially didn’t want to listen, he became captivated. His ears twitched. When Shen Zhi fell silent, he couldn’t help but ask, “And then what?”
Shen Zhi smiled. “My senior brother and I chased that successor for half a month. In the end, he suffered a backlash and was bitten to death by the corpse he had raised.”
“Tsk, it was brutal. His arms and legs were broken, and his head was gnawed on like a melon. Brain matter and blood were all over the floor.”
“—Shen Zhi.” Liang Mu spoke, his expression stern.
“Shige[mfn]Shige is senior brother[/mfn], I haven’t even mentioned how you couldn’t eat for three days because you were so disgusted yet,” Shen Zhi said with a lack of fear. He patted Song Xiaozhou on the shoulder. “See? Little Brother Song here didn’t even react. He’s got guts.”
Song Xiaozhou shrugged off his hand, only to hear Shen Zhi continue, “No wonder you dare to sleep in the same bed as a ghost.”
Song Xiaozhou turned his head sharply to look at Shen Zhi, his eyes filled with hostility, like a protective, snarling beast.
Shen Zhi said, “Don’t be nervous.”
“We’re just curious to see. After all,” the carriage lurched to a stop. Shen Zhi lifted the curtain and smiled back at Song Xiaozhou. “It’s been nearly a hundred years since a vengeful spirit appeared.”
