Ch14 – The peachwood sword’s memory

Translator: Abo Dammen

---

Kaleidoscopic, chaotic images swirled before his eyes, bizarre and dazzling. 

These memories did not belong to him, yet seemed intricately connected to him, making it hard to distinguish dream from reality. Slowly, however, he felt his consciousness establish a subtle, indescribable rapport with the peachwood sword.

He suddenly understood, as if enlightened. This is the sword’s memory.

A tomb lay dormant deep within the earth, like an insect hibernating in the soil. Until that day, one hundred years ago, when the tomb was opened by uninvited guests.

Whispers, laced with tension and excitement, drifted down the narrow tunnel. “That fellow surnamed Ying was right! With this peachwood sword, we could find the tomb!” 

“It really is… this scale is extraordinary.”

“We’ve hit the jackpot!”

“Ah… I heard tomb raiding can curse one with no descendants, let alone raiding a tomb like this.”

“Bah! What nonsense are you spouting?” 

“As the saying goes, ‘Eight hundred years ago we were one family.’ We are named Jing, the tomb owner is also named Jing. By that logic, we are his descendants! Would he curse his own family to have no heirs?”

……

“Stop arguing. Put the peachwood sword away first.”

“Right. Surnamed Ying specifically instructed that once inside, we must first put this peachwood sword away, wrap it in cloth, and hide it out of sight.” 

“Don’t know why he said that, but we’d better follow his instructions. Mr. Ying… he does have some skills.”

No sooner said than done. They carefully picked up the peachwood sword, meticulously wrapped it with prepared cloth strips, sealed it, and then hid it deep within a hemp sack they carried, ensuring it was secure.

The peachwood sword, bound in cloth, could see nothing.

It could only hear the clinking and clattering sounds—the greedy, busy noises of the tomb raiders frantically stuffing burial objects into their sacks. The crisp, clear clinks of gold, jade, and jewels intertwined with the tomb raiders’ unrestrained cheers, creating such a fervent cacophony that it drowned out a faint, anomalous sound—the grating noise of a coffin lid slowly opening from deep within the main burial chamber. 

Soon after, sharp, chaotic screams erupted inside the tomb. “Ghosts!”

Terrified shouts echoed like thunderclaps in the cavern, followed by a series of frantic, jumbled kowtowing sounds, accompanied by the tomb raiders’ trembling pleas.

“Spare us! We dare not do it again!”

“Spare us! We’re just trying to make a living! We didn’t mean to disturb you, Old Ancestor!” 

“We were wrong! We’ll put everything back right now! We beg you, be merciful and let us live!”

…..

A cold, hoarse voice abruptly sounded, “I ought to kill you. However, you… are descendants of my family.”

—It was Jing Liansheng’s voice. 

The tomb raiders were shocked inwardly: No way? Such a coincidence? We just said ‘eight hundred years ago we were one family’… and now it’s really true?

“Ancestor! So it is our Ancestor! Great Ancestor!”

“Big water flooding the Dragon King’s Temple—one family doesn’t recognize the other!”

“We will burn incense and pray for you every day from now on, so you can enjoy wealth and honor underground too!” 

Jing Liansheng’s voice was icy. “Silence.”

Just these two words, like a slap, rendered the tomb utterly silent.

“The death penalty may be spared, but living punishment is unavoidable…” Jing Liansheng’s voice was cruel, about to pronounce judgment.

The tomb raiders’ fearful gasps rose and fell. 

Right at this moment, a clear, bright voice rang out, “Keeping them alive could be of great use.”

Jing Liansheng paused slightly but quickly regained his composure. “Ying Zhili.”

Ying Zhili’s voice carried a smile. “Long time no see.”

“You taught them to dig up my grave,” Jing Liansheng deduced. 

“Would I dare?” Ying Zhili still had that leisurely tone. “This is clearly the guidance of the Ancient Lotus.”

“The Ancient Lotus…?” Jing Liansheng’s voice halted.

Ying Zhili said slowly, “They prayed to the Ancient Lotus to become the richest family. Under its guidance, they came here to inherit the wealth of you, their ancestor.”

“The Ancient Lotus… has bloomed again?” Jing Liansheng seemed surprised. 

“Of course. As long as someone tends to it carefully, the Ancient Lotus will survive and bloom periodically,” Ying Zhili said indifferently, but his tone held a deeper meaning. “It’s just a pity that this chance to make a wish was snatched up by your unfilial descendants. If you wish to make a wish yourself, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait for the next hundred-year cycle.”

Jing Liansheng’s voice was cold as ice. “Make a wish? Why would I need to make a wish?”

Ying Zhili chuckled lightly. “Naturally, to fulfill your unresolved wish.”

Jing Liansheng was cold. “I don’t feel I have any unresolved wishes.” 

Ying Zhili laughed. “Without attachment, how could you become a fierce ghost? Perhaps… you have a wish even you yourself are unaware of?”

Jing Liansheng said, “Such as?”

“Such as,” Ying Zhili paused, “reviving Ci Ying.”

“What do you mean? He… is dead?” Jing Liansheng’s tone suddenly tightened, but he quickly regained his inherent calm, as if that momentary tension was an illusion. “Right, I’ve lost track of time in the tomb, but I can feel much time has passed. His lifespan ended, following the natural order. Why should I defy heaven’s will and disturb his reincarnation?” 

Ying Zhili said slowly, “What if he never entered the cycle of reincarnation?”

Jing Liansheng’s voice tensed again, like a plucked string. “Never entered reincarnation?”

“He performed self-sacrifice. His body died, his path vanished. He drifts outside reincarnation, lingers at the edge of the Six Realms, slumbering in darkness. Ah—” Ying Zhili drew out his sigh. “Isn’t such a state pitiable?”

Jing Liansheng was silent. 

“You are so intelligent. Haven’t you considered how he could accomplish such a difficult thing alone?” Ying Zhili’s tone carried false pity. “Aside from sacrifice, there was no other way. Those who sacrifice themselves cannot ascend to heaven nor descend to the underworld. They have no path of return, forever falling into darkness. Unless—” Ying Zhili’s tone turned mysterious, “the Ancient Lotus offers shelter.”

Ying Zhili’s tone was like a venomous snake crawling out of an abyss, seducing one to fall, not concealing his own cold-blooded malice. “I believe your unfilial descendants would be willing to atone for their crimes by carefully performing offerings to you, their ancestor, for this hundred years, while also nourishing the Ancient Lotus, quietly awaiting its bloom. When the hundred-year mark arrives, they will awaken you once more and offer this wish-making opportunity to you, won’t they?”

Before he finished speaking, the tomb raiders, without waiting for Jing Liansheng’s response, kowtowed like pounding garlic, repeatedly agreeing, “We are willing! We are willing to serve our Ancestor and tend the Ancient Lotus for you! We only beg our Ancestor to give us a chance to reform!”

The tomb fell into prolonged silence again, only the tomb raiders’ nervous gasps audible. They were irrelevant bystanders in this dialogue, yet crushed by the heavy atmosphere. 

After a long time, Jing Liansheng’s voice slowly sounded again, “However, if I let them go, how can I know they will keep their promise? Even if they intend to, what the world will be like a hundred years from now is hard to say.”

“That need not worry you,” Ying Zhili said. “I will ensure they keep their promise for you.”

Jing Liansheng said, “Going to such trouble, what do you gain from it?”

Ying Zhili answered simply, “Amusement.” 

Jing Liansheng said coldly, “…Lunatic.”

Ying Zhili’s tone was light. “I’m merely curious. What price must be paid to allow a sacrificed person to re-enter the cycle of reincarnation?”

Jing Liansheng did not answer.

Ying Zhili, however, continued on his own, “But no matter the price, you would be willing to pay it, wouldn’t you?” 

Jing Liansheng remained silent. Yet, at this moment, an agreement was reached.

The Jing family’s unfilial descendants were able to retreat unscathed. All the treasures from the tomb, except for the burial clothes on his body and the jade cicada placed in the corpse’s mouth, were taken by them. These antiques, aside from the blood-streaked bracelet, were used as initial capital to start businesses.

Starting from tomb raiding was ultimately not glorious. They knew this and kept it a strict secret from the outside world. Their bizarre encounter with a ghost in the tomb became an eternal secret. They erected a stele on the ancient tomb, remodeling it to look like a new tomb, claiming the Jing family’s success as a century-old lineage was thanks to this Old Master, having descendants generation after generation make offerings.

Thus, except for successive family heads, the other Jing descendants did not know Jing Liansheng’s true identity, only venerating him as a legendary Old Master. 

Bai Qing’s consciousness followed the peachwood sword around the burial chamber, then was bound by the sour-smelling cloth strips, blindfolded, gagged, only able to hear the buzzing, distant sounds from a hundred years ago, echoing incessantly.

Those distant yet enduring memories were, at this moment, completely branded upon Bai Qing’s heart.

Ci Ying……Old Master……Jing Liansheng……Ying Zhili……

So, Jing Liansheng isn’t the Old Master… No wonder… 

Many things suddenly made sense in this instant, yet brought forth even newer, deeper confusion.

In that fleeting moment, the darkness before Bai Qing’s eyes was violently torn away, and his consciousness was abruptly pulled from the peachwood sword’s memory. He opened his eyes to find himself still standing in the mourning hall, his body frozen in the previous posture of blocking the sword for Jing Liansheng.

However, the peachwood sword that should have pierced him was now suspended motionless in mid-air, its blade gripped tightly by a pale, powerful hand—Jing Liansheng’s hand.

With his power as a Great Fierce, he could certainly confront the peachwood sword head-on. Yet, he carefully curbed the yin energy in his palm, merely using his fragile ghostly body to clutch the blade. 

His hand sizzled, emitting green smoke—a sign of damage to Jing Liansheng’s ghostly form and leakage of yin energy.

Bai Qing’s heart felt as if torn apart, aching sharply.

His heart ached, pained that Jing Liansheng’s hand was injured.

His heart ached, pained that Jing Liansheng, even injured, was unwilling to damage this sword. 

It was obvious… this sword… must have belonged to that person named Ci Ying, right?

Bai Qing was almost certain.

Jing Liansheng gave up his long slumber for Ci Ying, returned to the human world against his principles for Ci Ying, became a fierce ghost for Ci Ying, waited a hundred years to make a wish upon the Ancient Lotus for Ci Ying…

Jing Liansheng’s wish was different from those of the reckless, ignorant Jing family members. 

Jing Liansheng clearly had some understanding of the Ancient Lotus and knew the price would be heavy.

But he still decided to do it.

Since meeting Jing Liansheng, Bai Qing had always been the one offering warmth to cold indifference. No matter how cold Jing Liansheng was, how he kept him at a distance, Bai Qing could always accept it willingly, consoling himself: He’s just that kind of cold dead ghost.

However, at this moment, he couldn’t console himself anymore. 

He suddenly realized that, Jing Liansheng isn’t inherently that indifferent, he just doesn’t love me.

He loves Ci Ying.

He loves Ci Ying, probably with the same intensity that I love him.

These sudden realizations struck Bai Qing’s heart like a storm, shattering it to pieces. He stood rooted to the spot, his body stiff as a puppet, unable to move. 

Jing Liansheng, however, didn’t notice his abnormality. His wrist moved, and he forcefully wrested the peachwood sword away bare-handed. Green smoke still sizzled between his fingers and palm, but he seemed oblivious, his eyes surging with an indescribable, profound emotion as he looked at the sword.

This emotion deeply stabbed into Bai Qing’s eyes.

The Taoist, seeing his artifact, the peachwood sword, seized by Jing Liansheng, was instantly covered in shock, his mouth slightly agape, momentarily at a loss.

Then he saw a flash of vivid red in Jing Liansheng’s eyes. Gripping the peachwood sword, its tip lightly flicked, he swung it towards the entangled wronged ghosts. Both the Taoist and Bai Qing were stunned watching Jing Liansheng wield the sword. 

How can a fierce ghost wield an evil-warding peachwood sword?

Even more shocking was that Jing Liansheng’s swordplay was exceptionally graceful. He turned his wrist, the sword tip tracing fluid arcs, as if he were more familiar with every move of this sword than anyone else, knowing better how to wield its power. In his hands, the peachwood sword seemed to transform into a spring breeze, its waves gentle. Far from harming the spirits, it instead broke the restraints binding them one by one, allowing them liberation.

The several wronged ghosts suddenly broke free from their bonds. Their ghostly claws, reaching for Jing Liansheng, halted abruptly, momentarily dazed. But this daze lasted less than three seconds before they reacted violently, howling with pain and anger, turning and rushing towards Jing Shuizhi.

Jing Shuizhi was greatly frightened and tried to hide behind the coffin. 

Unexpectedly, Tong Yiwen’s corpse from within the coffin sprang out! Its stiff hands gripped her throat, its eyes crimson, roaring angrily, “Why! You harmed people, I helped you bury the bodies! Yet you still wanted my life! Do you have no conscience!”

Jing Shuizhi’s terror reached its peak. She struggled fiercely, but her mortal body was no match for the power of the malevolent spirits. Almost instantly, several wronged ghosts pounced on her. Their sharp ghostly claws, like blades, vowed to tear her to shreds.

The Taoist finally reacted, throwing out talismans to save her.

Although the Taoist had lost his major weapon, the peachwood sword, dealing with a few minor ghosts like Tong Yiwen was still easy. He immobilized them with talismans in a few moves. 

However, Jing Shuizhi, deeply mired in karmic debt and targeted by the vengeful ghosts, was instantly severely injured, collapsing to the ground, breathing more in than out.

The Taoist, looking at this scene, was momentarily stunned. “This… what exactly is going on?”

Jing Liansheng snorted coldly. “What I say, you probably won’t believe. But what about them?”

As he spoke, Jing Liansheng casually waved his hand, and the immobilized Tong Yiwen became active again. 

Under Jing Liansheng’s questioning, Tong Yiwen tearfully accused, “Jing Shuizhi saw some method for a ghost marriage and resurrection from some ancient book God knows where, got the idea, and wanted to revive her dead child. So, she deliberately attracted living people into our family as young mistresses or sons-in-law, but they were all meant for ghost marriages. But heaven has eyes; each resurrection attempt failed. After she killed these living people, she said she couldn’t waste them, and learned a secret method from that book to trap these ghosts, using them to attract wealth…”

Tong Yiwen’s words were like a bolt from the blue, shocking the Taoist speechless.

He never imagined this seemingly kind-hearted entrepreneur could commit such insane acts, completely overturned his imagination.

Bai Qing finally reacted and asked Tong Yiwen, “You’ve been in the Jing family so long, helped her with these things. Logically, you shouldn’t need to be part of a ghost marriage yourself. So how did you end up getting sacrificed too?” 

Tong Yiwen’s ghostly eyes shed tears of blood. “I also thought, after helping her so much, she considered me an ally. I didn’t expect the Old Master would send Bai Qing to question her about damaging yin virtue. She was afraid the truth would be exposed, so she silenced me…”

His voice trembled. “I died unjustly! I originally thought we had true feelings! But I never imagined she could be so vicious, not even sparing me!”

As he spoke, Tong Yiwen was overcome with grief.

The Taoist finally understood the whole story. His gaze towards Jing Liansheng was complex. “You… you are their family’s Old Master? I… I wrongly accused you?” 

Jing Liansheng snorted coldly, saying no more.

Bai Qing, looking at Jing Liansheng’s sizzling hand, thought: My domineering Old Master, it must hurt like hell, and you’re still acting cool.

The Taoist also noticed Jing Liansheng’s smoking hand and said, full of guilt, “Look at this… I was truly reckless. I apologize. Should I… treat it for you?”

“Hah, it is a mere minor injury, not worth mentioning,” Jing Liansheng said coldly, turning away with his hands behind his back. 

Bai Qing: …You’re pacing because it hurts, aren’t you?

You fierce ghost, you don’t even need a coffin when you die, because no coffin is big enough for all your trying hard to look aloof.

The Taoist stood still, his gaze still fixed on the direction Jing Liansheng left, his heart filled with deep shock.

Bai Qing patted his shoulder. “Often, things aren’t as they appear… Human hearts are complex, worldly affairs unpredictable. All we can do is maintain a mirror-like heart to perceive the truth and understand right from wrong.” 

The Taoist completely ignored Bai Qing’s paternalistic rambling but suddenly came to himself, “That ghost took the peachwood sword too. I… if I chase after him to ask for it back, would that be very rude?”

Bai Qing: “…Hah, don’t even think about it. That dead ghost won’t return it to you.”

The thought made Bai Qing’s heart sour.

This sword belongs to that Ci Ying! 

He’ll probably hug it to sleep tonight and kiss it a hundred times!

This dead ghost, acting like a cold Old Master in front of me, but really a lovesick young widower behind my back.

Biting his teeth with unwillingness, Bai Qing quickly walked out, because he was truly worried about Jing Liansheng’s hand.

He could only think: Damn it, I really, really love him. 

Walking back to the west wing, Bai Qing passed the lotus pond. Seeing the shimmering ripples and floating leaves, his heart palpitated. When this lotus blooms, it will be time for Jing Liansheng to make his wish…

“Ci Ying, Ci Ying…” Bai Qing muttered the name softly, his fists unconsciously clenching, as if wanting to crush something invisible.

Muttering resentfully, Bai Qing subconsciously cast his gaze upon the sparkling pond surface.

The clouds dispersed, the bright moon hung in the sky, illuminating the pond’s surface. Only then did Bai Qing clearly see a shadow. A shadow that had been standing behind him all along.