Chapter 137: Unveiled

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The wailing of a young girl suddenly echoed through the courtyard, startling everyone present. Some of the more timid maids even burst into tears. Yet Jiang Li hung her head low, as if utterly drained of strength, though she stubbornly remained standing upright.

This unexpected noise startled Daoist Chongxu as well. His performance had not included such a scene. In theory, the glutinous rice mixed with the potion should cause temporary loss of reason. Jiang Li’s terrifying appearance alone was enough to frighten people, and all her inexplicable actions could be attributed to a “ghost encounter.” This trick had been employed countless times by Daoist Chongxu with unfailing success. He knew exactly what to do next. But Jiang Li’s subsequent behavior was entirely outside his plan.

Before he could react, the girl’s cries grew louder, almost piercing.

“Wuwu—wuwu,” mingling with the dark clouds above and the flickering incense candles on the Daoist’s platform, the scene felt particularly eerie.

Ji Shuran tightened her hold on Jiang Youyao, who had already nestled fearfully into her arms. Earlier she had been somewhat afraid, but now Ji Shuran felt no fear. The thought of Jiang Li being branded as an evil spirit and discarded by everyone filled her with joy. She marveled silently at Daoist Chongxu’s skill in scaring people—no wonder he dared to perform confidently even before the emperor. Having such a capable elder sister was truly rare.

With this in mind, she glanced at Daoist Chongxu, only to find him frozen in place, staring intently at Jiang Li and even stepping back a pace.

Ji Shuran frowned. Though the act called for authenticity, shouldn’t a master display righteous boldness and step forward at such a moment? Daoist Chongxu’s hesitation was unseemly.

Jiang Li, meanwhile, blew on her head and staggered forward, seemingly aimless, her steps unsteady. The Jiang family dared not approach, only a few maids from the Fangfei Garden remained near. Qingfeng and Mingyue were terrified and at a loss, but Tong’er chased after Jiang Li, urgently calling out, “Miss!”

Jiang Li had not disclosed the full plan to them. Though Bai Xue and the others had prepared as instructed, they did not know how events would unfold. Seeing Jiang Li in this state, they panicked. Bai Xue insisted, “Our mistress is no ghost, absolutely not! No one in the world has a kinder heart than her. How could she be an evil spirit?”

“Exactly! This Daoist must have tampered with things!” Tong’er’s heart stirred. “How did you make our mistress like this?”

Ji Shuran said to Lady Jiang, “Mother, Li’er is soft-hearted and has spoiled the maids of Fangfei Garden, who have grown insolent. Daoist Chongxu is officially recognized by the emperor; not even we masters dare judge him lightly. If what these two maids say spreads, it will seem we Jiang family disregard royal dignity...”

Lady Jiang shook her head. “Second Miss indeed spoils the maids too much; they dare be unruly even before their mistress.”

“No, madam!” Tong’er knelt weeping before Lady Jiang. “It doesn’t matter what happens to me, but the mistress is truly wronged. You must believe her!”

“Such disrespect!” Ji Shuran said disappointedly. “Mistress, take these two maids away. Li’er is too kind to discipline them, so as her mother, I must do it.”

Qingfeng and Mingyue twitched anxiously; their young lady was just in trouble, and Ji Shuran was already ready to lash out at her attendants? This was too much!

Lady Jiang cast a subtle glance at Ji Shuran. Before Jiang Li’s return, this eldest lady of the main branch rarely made mistakes and seemed virtuous. But since Jiang Li’s return, she had grown restless, even Lady Jiang found it hard to bear.

“All right, there’s no rush to discipline the maids,” Lady Jiang said. “Let’s first resolve Second Miss’s matter.”

Madam Lu pleaded, “Daoist, please quickly stop her... please stop crying!” Her voice trembled; she was truly afraid.

The girl’s cries grew clearer, beginning as indistinct sobbing, then seeming to carry words. Like dust falling away to reveal bricks beneath, the voice echoed distinctly.

“Father!”

The girl called out “Father.”

Jiang Yuanbai was stunned. Hearing that cry stirred a strange familiarity in his heart, dispelling his usual caution toward Jiang Li. Instead, he took two steps toward her.

Jiang Li bowed her head; the girl’s cries seemed to come from her mouth, yet also as if whispered in one’s ear. One thing was certain: this was not Jiang Li’s voice—not the voice of the child Jiang Li nor her current self. It was clearly another’s.

Daoist Chongxu involuntarily stepped back twice more. The pride he had felt during his ritual vanished. He had never encountered this before and was filled with an indescribable panic, forcing himself to stay calm.

In the crowd, Aunt Hu suddenly screamed. Standing in a corner, her cry drew several eyes. When they looked again, Aunt Hu was stumbling toward Jiang Li, stopping hesitantly before her, crying and laughing, “Yue’er, my Yue’er...”

Yue’er? Who was Yue’er?

The name was unfamiliar, causing confusion.

Ji Shuran’s heart skipped a beat. “Why is Aunt Hu coming out now? Could she be having a hysterical episode? Quickly take her back to her room, don’t let her disrupt the Daoist’s exorcism.”

But Aunt Hu gave no chance for Ji Shuran to call for help. She turned to Jiang Yuanbai, tears streaming, “Master, don’t you remember? That’s Yue’er’s voice, your eldest daughter Yue’er!”

Jiang Yuanbai froze; his mind suddenly cleared.

Of course—the voice was so familiar—it was his eldest daughter, Jiang Yue’er, who had passed away early.

Ji Shuran was stunned. She had never expected Aunt Hu to suddenly appear at such a critical moment. When she first entered the Jiang household, Aunt Hu had always seemed a thorn in her side, someone she wanted to dismiss. After Jiang Yue’er died, Aunt Hu suffered hysteria but was protected by Lady Jiang. Ji Shuran had resigned herself to letting her be, thinking she posed no threat to the master’s favor.

For years, Aunt Hu rarely left the inner quarters, and except during festivals, Ji Shuran often forgot she even existed.

Yet this long-forgotten figure now suddenly appeared, repeatedly mentioning her short-lived daughter. Though she didn’t understand what madness had seized Aunt Hu, Ji Shuran believed this must not continue. Besides, this was clearly Daoist Chongxu’s doing; she couldn’t fathom what this madwoman was so excited about.

Ji Shuran said, “Aunt Hu must be thinking of Yue’er. Master, please take Aunt Hu back to her room.”

“Madam,” Aunt Hu turned, smiling sorrowfully, “I am not mad. How could I not recognize my own daughter’s voice? Master,” she said dreamily, “listen, the eldest lady is calling for you.” Her last words were gentle, lips curved in a smile, but with a chilling madness beneath.

Ji Shuran broke out in a cold sweat.

The girl’s voice still called “Father,” near and far, seeming to come from Jiang Li’s mouth, yet not quite.

Ji Shuran forced down her unease. “Master, I think Aunt Hu is ill...”

“She is not ill,” Jiang Yuanbai interrupted. “That is Yue’er’s voice.”

Ji Shuran was speechless.

Jiang Yuanbai stared blankly at Jiang Li, a small figure appearing in his mind.

He had three daughters. When Ye Zhenzhen married into the Jiang family, she bore no children for three years. Aunt Hu conceived first, and Ye Zhenzhen, kind-hearted, allowed Aunt Hu to give birth. Jiang Yuanbai, a new father then, doted greatly on Jiang Yue’er.

Though he seemed indulgent toward Jiang Youyao, he had cared equally for Jiang Yue’er. She fulfilled his fatherly dreams, and as a child, she was clever and adorable.

Ye Zhenzhen and Aunt Hu were friendly, and no one thought anything amiss. Jiang Li had been spoiled, Youyao innocent, but the sharpest and sweetest tongue belonged to this eldest daughter of the concubine. Hence, though born of a concubine, Jiang Yuanbai never neglected her. At a tender age, he even taught Jiang Yue’er to read, hoping she would become an outstanding scholar.

But when Jiang Yue’er was four, she fell from an artificial hill and died, crushing his heart.

Those days were fraught: Ye Zhenzhen’s death, Ji Shuran’s arrival, the recent birth of Jiang Youyao—so many troubles distracted him, and he could not care as before. Yet he never expected to lose Jiang Yue’er.

He was furious, punishing all caretakers severely. For a long time, the household forbade any mention of the “eldest lady.”

Years passed, and the clever voice faded from his mind, leaving only a vague shadow. From deliberate avoidance to gradual forgetfulness, even he lost clear memory.

But now, to hear the little girl’s voice again—

Aunt Hu was right. That was Jiang Yue’er’s voice.

Jiang Yuanbai’s expression was grave, causing Ji Shuran to retreat a step.

Enough. She forced a laugh. “This can’t be...”

But she could no longer laugh. Seeing Daoist Chongxu retreat far from Jiang Li, his panic genuine, she thought—wasn’t this supposed to be a staged act?

As Jiang Yuanbai approached, the girl’s voice ceased suddenly. Jiang Li said, “Father, Yue’er hurts so much, Yue’er was harmed to death, Yue’er hurts so much...”

Ji Shuran was horrified.

Madam Lu had already hidden behind her son, but she thought quickly. Jiang Li was clearly possessed by the ghost of the deceased eldest lady. What bad luck for Jiang Li to have such a ghost encounter. But... harmed to death? Didn’t Jiang Yue’er fall accidentally from the hill?

“Yue’er, who harmed you?” Jiang Yuanbai’s voice seemed distant.

“My mother harmed me,” the girl’s voice was still childish but tinged with bitterness. “Mother harmed Yue’er, killed Yue’er, yet pretended Yue’er fell. Mother harmed me!”

“You lie!” Jiang Youyao, terrified, cried back, “This is clearly an evil spirit trying to confuse us! Daoist, quickly exorcise this demon!”

“Daoist Chongxu, what are you waiting for?” Ji Shuran stammered. “Drive out the evil spirit!” Unknowingly, though she had long known this was a staged play, Ji Shuran, pretending to watch, found herself truly frightened.

Daoist Chongxu gritted his teeth and brandished his peach wood sword. The little Daoist boy had vanished without a trace. He was a fraud, not truly capable of banishing demons. What had started as fakery had unexpectedly drawn a real evil spirit, leaving Daoist Chongxu wailing in distress. Holding the sword, he dared not approach. “This demon is too powerful. I... I may not be able to subdue it.”

“But she’s spreading lies here!” Ji Shuran screamed. Her palms were damp with sweat. She was terrified. The past could not be known by others; those who knew were dead. This was impossible... Someone must know and was using this to harm her!

The girl’s voice suddenly changed, becoming that of a young woman, older than Jiang Yue’er’s childish tone. “Madam is cruel. She had the eldest lady accompany the third young mistress to play, but when the third young mistress cried once, she took it out on the eldest lady, kicking her hard. The eldest lady hit her head on the threshold and died, yet they made it look like an accidental fall from the hill... Siqi tried to rush to inform the master but was silenced by murder!”

“Siqi...” a maid beside Aunt Hu suddenly said dazedly, “That’s Siqi’s voice...”

After so many years, who would remember exactly the voices of a maid and a deceased young lady? Very few could recognize them. But Aunt Hu and Baoqin were closest to Jiang Yue’er and Siqi, so when they said so, no one doubted it.

Jiang Yuanbai looked toward Ji Shuran.

“No,” Ji Shuran shook her head, tears streaming. She clutched Jiang Yuanbai’s sleeve. “Master... it wasn’t me, truly not me. I never did such a thing...”

Jiang Youyao also wept, “Father, would you believe the words of a demon rather than your own mother?”

“That’s uncertain,” Madam Lu, seeing Ji Shuran’s plight, stopped fearing and seized the opportunity to attack. “People’s last words are often kind, especially those who are dead. In this world, human hearts are more terrifying than ghosts. Who knows what venom lies beneath that seemingly gentle countenance?”

Lady Jiang’s expression changed drastically. For her, the prosperity and growth of the Jiang family was her duty. When Jiang Li caused Ji Shuran to miscarry and lose a son, Lady Jiang was furious. In the Jiang household, she overlooked some of Ji Shuran’s faults but could not tolerate anyone harming the family’s children.

Ji Shuran saw the cold eyes of Jiang Yuanbai and Lady Jiang and felt her heart sink. She was terrified but unsure whether she feared the vengeful ghost or the punishment awaiting her.

She could only shake her head desperately, “It’s not true, this is the demon’s slander. Master, why would I harm the eldest miss for no reason?”

At that moment, Jiang Li staggered forward two more steps. The household servants all stepped aside to avoid her. She looked like a terrifying ghost, possessed, and utterly dreadful. Her gait was strange, black smoke rising from her feet, making it seem as if she did not truly touch the ground.

She reached the locust tree in the garden, crouched, and began digging. The buried items were shallow and soon uncovered.

“Oh my,” Aunt Hu covered her mouth, tears streaming. “These... these are Yue’er’s belongings...”

Jiang Yue’er’s possessions had been buried with her coffin after her death. Fearing Jiang Yuanbai would be heartbroken, the family kept no trace of her belongings. Thus, she had become almost a stranger in the Jiang household.

Yet what Jiang Li dug up—rattles, cloth tigers, and even a swaddling cloth—were things Jiang Yue’er had once played with. Aunt Hu knelt, sobbing uncontrollably, “Yue’er, Yue’er...” her wails mournful.

In that eerie and terrifying moment, only Aunt Hu showed no fear, only sorrow. The dark courtyard was tinged with a tragic hue. Her cries were loud and heart-wrenching.

No one doubted Aunt Hu’s sincerity.

Ji Shuran grew even more fearful. She knelt, clutching Jiang Yuanbai’s sleeve, “Master, this demon is truly powerful, deceiving and corrupting hearts. Didn’t you see? Daoist Chongxu can’t subdue her. Master... Master, don’t believe what she says. Daoist, what are you doing?”

Daoist Chongxu shuddered and looked at Jiang Li, unwilling to use his binding rope. He cursed in his heart. What was wrong with this Jiang household? This was supposed to be a play, but why hadn’t the imperial concubine warned him there were real ghosts here?

What to do now?

Then Ji Shuran saw Jiang Li lift her head.

Her features were more delicate, yet the blood made her face ghastly. She glared at Ji Shuran with a sinister smile, then bowed her head again.

“Yueru, how cruel you are!”

This voice stunned Ji Shuran and everyone in the courtyard.

It was clearly a man’s voice!

Jiang Yuanbai stepped forward twice to see if the words came from Jiang Li’s mouth, but halted, perhaps out of lingering fear.

“Yueru... Yueru, in all these years I’ve been dead, have you thought of me?” His tone was gentle yet haunting, as if from the depths of hell.

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“Who is Yueru?” Jiang Jingrui asked.

Jiang Yuanbai shot a cold glance at Ji Shuran, who stared blankly at Jiang Li. If Jiang Yue’er’s and Siqi’s voices had made Ji Shuran doubtful, this strange male voice rendered her speechless, her mind buzzing and her strength drained.

“Yueru” was Ji Shuran’s childhood name.

Only parents and her husband ever called her by it. This voice was not Jiang Yuanbai’s, but closely resembled someone else—

The deceased Liu Wencai.

“Yueru, your cousin came to the capital to find you. We promised to be together forever, but you said yes with your lips and then had me killed at the inn. Once married, always grateful. Yueru, how cruel you are!”

One stone stirred a thousand waves!

Madam Lu’s eyes widened. She often enjoyed Ji Shuran’s drama and knew she was no saint, but never imagined she had the audacity to cuckold Jiang Yuanbai.

“You promised only to marry me, yet you wed Jiang Yuanbai... and bore his children. Yueru, you betrayed me!”

Ji Shuran stepped back, shaking her head. “No, who are you... I don’t know you...”

“I am Liu Wencai, your cousin, your lover, the one you killed, the father of your children!” The voice laughed wickedly.

“Father?” Lady Jiang clutched her chest, struggling to accept this. Jiang Youyao, stunned, loosened her grip and stared at Ji Shuran in suspicion.

Ji Shuran winced as Jiang Youyao’s gaze pierced her. “Youyao!” She reached for her daughter’s hand, but Jiang Youyao avoided her eyes.

She feared she was an illegitimate child, no longer the true lady of the Jiang family.

Jiang Yuanbai looked at Jiang Bingji.

“No,” Ji Shuran’s chest ached. “Master, Bingji is your biological son. Don’t listen to his lies.”

“Heh heh heh,” the strange male voice chuckled. “Yueru, remember? Our child was killed by your own hands. You suspected Jiang Li caught us in an affair, enraged, and she fell down the stairs. You sent Jiang Li away and removed the illegitimate child. You thought you were safe. Did you ever think of my feelings?”

“That was your own flesh and blood, Yueru!”

Everyone turned to look at Jiang Li.

When Jiang Li was sent to Qingcheng Mountain, branded a mother-killing, brother-assassinating villain, it was Ji Shuran’s scheme all along. Afraid of exposure of her illegitimate child, Ji Shuran conspired thus. Jiang Li had done nothing wrong then, yet was abandoned and left unheard for eight years!

Jiang Yuanbai staggered back, supported by a servant. His face was as somber as still water, unsure how to express himself, feeling everyone’s gaze mock his ignorance and foolishness.

“No,” Ji Shuran struggled, “it’s not...”

“Yueru, swear by your two children that you did not do these things. Otherwise, your two children will die within three days and suffer eternal damnation!”

The oath was ruthless. Without today’s events, Ji Shuran might have dared. But a vow concerning one’s children was not made lightly, especially when one had witnessed the existence of ghosts. How could she risk Jiang Youyao and Jiang Bingji?

Ji Shuran said nothing.

The crowd read her expression clearly.

Under such gazes, Ji Shuran sneered, madness growing in her eyes. She faced Jiang Li—or rather the spirit of the dead Liu Wencai—and said, “Liu Wencai, I did not betray you; you betrayed me! You promised to marry me but secretly wed another. You were unfaithful; don’t blame me for being unjust!”

“Oh?” Liu Wencai responded. “Then you killed Ye Zhenzhen?”

Jiang Yuanbai’s lips trembled. “What did you say?”

Ji Shuran’s heart tightened, realizing something. With no escape and facing ruin, she lashed out, “Yes. I wanted to marry a better man, but my father insisted I marry a playboy. Ye Zhenzhen had just given birth to Jiang Li and was frail, so I bribed the Jiang household maids to reduce her medicine. Ye Zhenzhen soon died, and I became Lady Jiang. Liu Wencai, I am far stronger than you!”

“I get whatever I want. But what are you, Liu Wencai? You deceived me and abandoned me. After the Liu family fell, did you think I’d still care for you? You came groveling; I was frank, but I no longer love you. You only remind me of a painful past, so you must die, because I hate you!”

Tears slowly fell from her eyes, but her expression grew fiercer, filled with sharp hatred. “Liu Wencai, if not for you, I wouldn’t be what I am today! You are to blame for everything! If you’re gone, why do you still appear? If you’re dead, why return?”

Her madness was like a fierce ghost. Though the courtyard held apparent ghosts and Jiang Li bled, the most terrifying was not Jiang Li nor the hidden spirits, but Ji Shuran herself.

How cruel must one be to reach such depths? Seemingly gentle and kind, yet hands stained with so many lives. She had harmed so many and yet remained untroubled, sleeping peacefully. Even when Ye Zhenzhen was alive, Ji Shuran, still unmarried, was willing to ruthlessly harm an innocent woman for her own gain.

The most venomous of women’s hearts was perfectly embodied in Ji Shuran.

Jiang Yuanbai suddenly laughed.

His laugh was mocking—whether at others or himself, no one knew. It echoed through the courtyard, desolate and sorrowful.

“I have been... deceived by you, Ji Shuran!”

The last three words were ground out through clenched teeth, every syllable uttered with all his strength, as if he longed to drink her blood and devour her flesh.

Closest and estranged.

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Epilogue
Zhao Ke: Photographer ready, sound engineer prepare to record, lighting crew, blast the lights! Extras, take your places, props team check the microphones. Here, hand the mic to this comrade, please start your performance!

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