AEDBE CHAPTER 13
A Eunuch’s Dream of Being Emperor by Li Ximin
CHAPTER 13: THE RETURN AND THE MOLTING
Chapter 13
At early dawn, Li Hongtang unlocked her front door.
Hand in hand with Dongzi, she stepped outside.
Early risers watched in astonishment as Li Hongtang walked by with neither the blue calico cloth nor anything else veiling her head or face. Moreover, she appeared entirely unperturbed—devoid of the frantic panic she had shown when the gale stripped the cloth away the previous dusk. Her gaze was resolute, her head held high and chest squared, as though she held utter disdain for the judging world.
As they walked, Li Hongtang instructed Dongzi, "Little brother, you must smile. Do not pull a long face; walk straight into the Li family estate with a smile on your face! Do not let them look down upon you! Remember, your elder sister's heart is forever bound to yours, and you must come home to see me whenever you have free time. You must remember every word Elder Sister told you last night—you must remember it!"
Dongzi nodded.
Hunchback Li had just unlatched his shop door when he saw them pass by.
With a gaze heavy with pity, Hunchback Li sighed softly, "What a cruel, wicked sin! Such a fine, flawless young maiden, ruined just like that! Li Cilin, what madness possessed you? To shatter a perfectly good family like this!"
Grandpa Li never imagined that Li Hongtang would personally return Dongzi to him.
Li Cilin was equally astonished, finding his daughter more inscrutable by the day.
The previous night, he and Grandpa Li had emerged from the subterranean black dungeon having found nothing at all.
Trembling with apprehension, Grandpa Li had told him, "It must be his ghost coming out to haunt us. Tomorrow, have you invited Witch Wang here to cleanse this place?"
Recalling Grandpa Li's words, he had summoned Li Saogu to his presence: "Saogu, there are only two days left before the New Year. You must execute the tasks I've entrusted to you without fail. Coordinate everything with Zhu Yinshan and the clan elders, and urge them to expedite the preparations for the Emperor's grand ascension. We cannot afford a single slip—this is a matter of supreme importance!"
Pumping his chest, Li Saogu swore, "Elder Cilin, rest easy, I guarantee absolute perfection!"
Li Cilin replied, "Don't speak too soon; getting the job done right is what matters most! By the way, go fetch Witch Wang right now, and tell her the Emperor herself—err, the Emperor wants her here!"
Li Saogu said, "Very well, I'm off then!"
As if a sudden thought struck him, Li Cilin called out, "Wait!"
Li Saogu paused, "Elder Cilin, any other instructions?"
Twirling his gaze, Li Cilin asked, "Are those two fellows still hanging from the trees in Dahē Courtyard?"
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Li Saogu nodded.
Li Cilin instructed, "Since Dongzi is back, and they've been strung up for a full night, cut them down. Get them some good wine and meat to shock their systems and calm their nerves."
Li Saogu agreed, "Understood, I'll see to it right away!"
Sitting inside his funerary goods shop, Hunchback Li sighed and groaned aloud. In terms of familial generation, Li Cilin was his paternal cousin once removed, meaning Hunchback Li technically had standing to lecture him. Yet, Hunchback Li would never utter a word of reprimand. After his father was murdered, leaving him an orphan, Li Cilin hadn't taken him in, nor had he ever stepped forward to demand justice. What was left to say? For all he knew, Li Cilin still harbored a grudge against him! Thinking back on the events of that recent night, Hunchback Li felt a heavy, uneasy knot in his stomach, convinced that the incident was inextricably tied to Li Cilin.
On that night, two out-of-town itinerant merchants seeking mountain goods had checked into the Yulai Inn.
And on that very same night, Hunchback Li had suffered a bout of violently upset bowels, forcing him to crawl out of bed in the dead of night to void his bowels.
He had lingered in the narrow alleyway of the latrine for an eternity before finishing. After wiping his backside with dry straw, he stepped out of the outhouse. Before he could even clear the alley, he caught the faint, stealthy scuff of footsteps echoing along the main street. Finding it suspicious, Hunchback Li crept flat against the corner of the alley wall to peer out and investigate. To his horror, he spotted a group of masked figures bearing two long, rigid burdens wrapped tightly in woven reed mats, shuffling stealthily toward the west end...
The very next morning, Hu Xilai was lamenting that the two travelers who had checked into the inn the previous night had vanished.
A chilling realization had bloomed in Hunchback Li's chest, making every hair on his body stand on end. What on earth were they doing? Those were living human lives! If this wasn't the work of Li Cilin and his henchmen, whose bloody hands could it possibly be? Only they held the authority to unbar the town gates in the dead of night and haul corpses out into the wilderness! Even the sudden disappearance of the foreign missionary was attributed by Hunchback Li directly to Li Cilin's faction.
Hunchback Li sensed that a cataclysmic disaster was fast descending upon Tang Town.
The more he brooded, the more panicked he grew, until a reckless compulsion seized him.
Gathering a large quantity of funerary paper money, Hunchback Li packed it into a bamboo basket and marched toward the western edge of town.
The militia guards at the town gate intercepted him, sneering, "Old Hunchback, where do you think you're hauling that paper money?"
Hunchback Li spat out a dry, venomous retort: "Going to burn it for the likes of you!"
Furious, the guard cursed, "You rotten, dying hunchback, what a foul mouth! I kindly asked you a civil question, and you go cursing us with a death wish!"
Ignoring them entirely, Hunchback Li trudged past without a backward glance.
Spitting a glob of phlegm into the dirt at his retreating spine, the guard muttered, "Bah, repulsive trash! If I ever get the chance, see if I don't grind you into dust!"
Reaching the desolate riverbanks, Hunchback Li stared out toward the distant expanse of Wugong Ridge, muttering hollowly, "Forgive this humble hunchback... it would take me half a day just to reach Wugong Ridge on foot, so I shall burn your spirit money right here! Do not haunt the innocent souls of Tang Town; if you seek vengeance, track down the cold-blooded monsters who murdered you! Their souls are utterly forfeit, damned to eternal agony!"
He struck a flint and set the paper money ablaze.
The curling wisps of pale blue smoke and black ash drifted away toward the desolate grassy shallows across the lower river bends. To his horror, Hunchback Li watched as a dense, suffocating pall of black fog erupted across the grassy flats, churning and billowing upward until it choked out the sky above.
As soon as Witch Wang finished executing her exorcism rituals within the grand halls of the Li estate, Li Cilin summoned her directly to his private chambers.
Handing her a heavy golden ingot, Li Cilin watched her rheumy, clouded eyes flare with avarice.
Her jaw twitched uncontrollably as she stammered, "This—this is—"
Smiling thinly, Li Cilin urged, "Take it, Immortal Auntie Wang, this is a personal reward from His Majesty!"
Having likely never beheld such a massive lump of gold in her entire mortal existence, she remained paralyzed by disbelief: "Is this... genuinely real?"
Li Cilin replied, "Of course it's real. Take it—once it touches your palm, it belongs to you."
With trembling claws, Witch Wang accepted the gold ingot, lifting it instinctively to her lips to dart her tongue out and give it a tentative lick.
Frowning, Li Cilin remarked, "This isn't food, what on earth are you doing?"
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Witch Wang mumbled, "I wanted to taste what gold flavor is like."
Li Cilin chuckled, "And what flavor did you manage to lick off?"
Witch Wang shook her head blankly, "Not a trace of flavor. Even licking a common pebble leaves a trace of earthy grit, why does gold have no taste at all? Could this be counterfeit?"
Li Cilin burst into laughter, "You certainly have your quirks, how could this possibly be fake? Rest easy and pocket your earnings!"
Witch Wang sighed, "You folks are paying me far too richly, this is more than this old woman can bear!"
Li Cilin leaned in closer, dropping his voice: "His Majesty noted that you have rendered immense service to our cause, and this is merely a fraction of what you deserve. Greater bounties shall follow."
With that, Li Cilin leaned closer still, whispering a string of confidential instructions directly into her ear.
Witch Wang nodded vigorously, "Understood, understood—I shall execute it precisely as commanded!"
Having delivered his orders, Li Cilin shifted his tone: "Immortal Auntie Wang, there is another intimate matter upon which I humbly seek your counsel."
Witch Wang flashed a toothless grin, "Speak freely, command whatever you wish without standing on ceremony."
Li Cilin's expression darkened into a heavy scowl as he sighed, "My eldest daughter, Hongtang, has become a thorn lodged deep in my heart! You must have heard whispers of her affliction—never in my wildest nightmares could I have foreseen her deteriorating into such a grotesque state. Even veteran physician Zheng Shilin examined her and threw up his hands in total defeat, declaring he had never witnessed such an unnatural plague—a blooming young maiden suddenly withering into an ancient crone! Tell me, what path is left for me to walk?"
Hearing the details of Li Hongtang's curse, Witch Wang’s eyes darted about in sudden, naked panic. She was intimately aware of Hongtang's plight; Tang Town was a fishbowl where a single fart could be smelled across every lane. Rumors swirled like wildfire that Li Hongtang had fallen prey to a vengeful fox immortal. If true, her meager talismans were utterly powerless; recalling a harrowing brush with similar supernatural wrath two years prior, her blood still ran cold. She was no omnipotent deity; peachwood swords and paper talismans could not solve every horror in the mortal realm.
Frowning deeply, Witch Wang ventured, "Years ago, I heard an itinerant Daoist priestess mention that afflictions like Lady Hongtang's can sometimes be countered through a specific remedy: a marriage of red celebration to wash away the baleful spirit. However, whether it will prove efficacious in this instance, I cannot guarantee!"
Li Cilin grabbed at the suggestion like a drowning man clutching a straw: "Speak! Regardless of whether it succeeds, we must treat a dead horse as though it were living—isn't that the logic of it?"
Witch Wang nodded, "Precisely the logic! To speak bluntly, the daoist priestess maintained that when confronted with intractable curses of this nature, binding the afflicted soul in matrimony can shock the life-force back into alignment. Seeing as Hongtang is seventeen or eighteen, she is well past the age for wedding bells. Why not seek out a suitable husband and marry her off instantly? With any luck, that may settle all troubles! Should the marriage miraculously cure her affliction, you have fulfilled your duty as a father; should it fail to reverse her decay, you at least rid your household of a crushing burden."
Li Cilin slapped his own forehead in sudden revelation, "Brilliant! Why did that never cross my mind? I am truly a fool!"
More importantly, once Li Hongtang was married off and removed from the household, she would no longer attempt to harbor or abduct Dongzi. That provided an airtight excuse to appease Grandpa Li, sparing him from being forced to execute his own flesh and blood. How could any father raise a butcher's knife against his own daughter? Li Cilin reassured himself.
Meanwhile, gazing out at the miserable, battered physical state of the two militia enforcers dangling from the courtyard trees, Wang Hairong felt a heavy iron weight settle in his chest. Could his own mortal frame endure dangling by the neck for a single night?
When the two guards were finally cut down, their limbs were completely paralyzed, unable to regain strength for hours!
Serving an absolute sovereign truly was like sleeping beside a hungry tiger! But an even more terrifying nightmare gnawed at Wang Hairong's sanity: the once-radiant Li Hongtang had mutated into a wizened, terrifying hag. If he actually went through with wedding her, could he face her hideous visage across the hearth day in and day out without screaming in horror? The psychological torture paralyzed him, feeding a fierce impulse to throw off his uniform and abandon the militia entirely. How foolish he had been to let blind ambition lure him into this death trap; a simple, exhausting life of honest physical labor offered genuine peace of mind, free from these lethal political webs.
Yet, as the old adage warned: the harder one tries to flee a ghost, the faster it crosses your path.
Just as Wang Hairong was sinking deeper into regret, Li Saogu sauntered over with a wide, greasy grin: "Hairong, fortune is smiling upon you!"
Wang Hairong stiffened, "What fortune?"
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Li Saogu clapped a heavy hand against his shoulder, chuckling, "The kind of windfall that would make you grin in your sleep! Come with me, stop asking questions—once we arrive, you'll understand."
Wang Hairong’s stomach churned with dread; he craved no grand windfalls at present, praying only to survive the week with his skin intact. Trailing nervously behind Li Saogu, his frantic mind raced: I must find an opportunity to slip away and beg my elder sister to talk sense into Li Saogu, to let me resign from this damned militia. But would his sister even lift a finger to help him now?
Li Saogu marched him straight to Li Cilin's inner quarters.
Li Cilin lounged in a grand master's chair, swinging one leg lazily over the other.
Spotting the commander, Wang Hairong dropped hurriedly to one knee, trembling, "This humble subordinate pays respects to the Commander."
Waving a dismissive hand, Li Cilin grunted, "Enough, enough, rise."
Wang Hairong scrambled up, keeping his head ducked, shaking like a leaf in the wind.
Li Cilin slanted a sharp look toward Li Saogu: "Saogu, step outside. I need a private audience with him."
Li Saogu bowed and withdrew, sliding the door shut behind him.
Rising to his feet, Li Cilin paced to the door, checked the corridor left and right, slammed it tight, and turned back with a veneer of paternal warmth: "Hairong, how many winters have you seen?"
Wang Hairong wrung his hands nervously, "I... I am twenty-five this year, Commander."
Li Cilin murmured, "Take a seat, take a seat, no need to stand on ceremony."
Gingerly, Wang Hairong perched on the edge of a wooden stool.
Seating himself opposite, Li Cilin smiled, "When I was twenty-five, Hongtang was already five years old, yet here you are, still a bachelor."
Wang Hairong’s face scorched a blazing crimson; he wished the floorboards would open and swallow him whole, utterly speechless.
Li Cilin chuckled, "I recall Saogu mentioning to me once that you held a secret affection for Hongtang. Is there any truth to that?"
Wang Hairong nodded miserably, "It is true... completely true."
Li Cilin nodded, "Your infatuation was entirely natural; which young buck in Tang Town didn't admire Hongtang in her prime? When Saogu first floated the match to me, however, I flatly rejected it. You know my reasoning: I held you in low regard not because of your family's poverty—our household was hardly wealthy either, and judging a man by his empty purse is base. To be brutally honest, I rejected you because you lacked spine! Had Hongtang married you, she would not only have starved beside you, but she would have lacked any shield against bullying. Tell me, how could I ever entrust my daughter to your hands?"
Wang Hairong stammered abjectly, "You were entirely right, Commander! I am utterly unworthy of Hongtang—a toad lusting after a swan! I deserve death for ever harboring such blasphemous ambitions!"
Li Cilin burst into a hearty laugh, "People change, and circumstances shift with them. You were indeed unworthy back then, but I never claimed you were unworthy now. Look at yourself: you are now an active enforcer in our elite militia, vastly improved from your former self. Your dedication during drills and relentless execution of duties—I have witnessed it all and committed it to memory."
Wang Hairong’s skeleton gave a violent jolt. The icy realization struck him like a physical blow: this was the true purpose behind Li Cilin's summons, and the "good fortune" Li Saogu had babbled about! His blood turned to slush in his veins—how on earth was he supposed to escape this trap?
Li Cilin pressed on smoothly, "Hairong, you know as well as I that Hongtang is seventeen now—long past the age of betrothal. If you remain willing, I am prepared to bestow her hand in marriage upon you. What say you? Hongtang is an exceptionally domestic, hardworking woman; take her as your wife, and she will transform your humble household into an orderly home."
Wang Hairong choked on his own saliva, stammering, "This... this—"
Li Cilin’s genial expression flickered into a cold shadow: "Hairong, speak your mind. Do you consent or refuse? Give me a definitive answer right now!"
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Sweat blinded Wang Hairong as it poured from his hairline. If he dared refuse Li Cilin's face-to-face marriage proposal, would the commander draw his blade and separate his head from his shoulders? Yet, accepting meant wedding a woman who had overnight morphed into a decaying crone—a living horror he couldn't bear to look upon. He was trapped in an agonizing dilemma. Why on earth did Li Cilin fixate on him as the sacrificial groom instead of anyone else? Bitter regret tore at his guts—if only he had never allowed himself to be press-ganged into this cursed militia! This was pure extortion, leaning exclusively on the weakest pillar in the room!
Slamming his fist down onto the tabletop with enough force to rattle the teacups, Li Cilin's face twisted into a mask of menace: "Wang Hairong, if you possess the spine of a man, give me a straight answer!"
Vaulting to his feet on trembling knees, Wang Hairong stammered, "Commander... please, grant me time to consider! This is a monumental decision... I must return home and consult my father and mother before I can reply—"
Gritting his teeth, Li Cilin spat, "Get out of my sight!"
Exhaustion weighed upon Li Hongtang like lead. Every fiber of her physical and mental endurance was completely shattered. After depositing Dongzi at the Li estate and stumbling back to her desolate hovel, she collapsed across her sleeping platform and plunged into a dead, dreamless slumber. The roaring town outside, the looming New Year festivities, Grandpa Li's farcical imperial ascension, and Li Cilin's desperate marital machinations—none of it held any tether to her soul. She craved only uninterrupted days of restorative sleep, after which she would rise, pack her meager provisions, and resume her relentless quest to hunt down her missing mother. This time, she resolved to push far beyond the familiar borders of Tang Town, driven by the absolute faith that she would ultimately drag her mother back home.
Soon, Li Hongtang drifted deep into the realm of dreams.
She imagined herself arrayed in delicate, lace-trimmed garments, hand in hand with her younger brother, skipping merrily down a mountain valley carpeted in wild, blooming flora. An old man with a flowing white beard had whispered to them that their mother was waiting at the far terminus of the valley to escort them onward to a peaceful paradise. Breaking away with a joyful laugh, Dongzi dashed over to a crystal stream to pluck a cluster of wild daisies, skipping back to her side with a radiant grin: "Elder Sister, squat down!" Complying with a smile, she lowered herself to the grass, and Dongzi carefully tucked the blossoms one by one into her glossy, raven-black hair, chirping happily, "Elder Sister, you smell so sweet!" Laughing, she teased, "What smells sweet?" Dongzi clapped his hands, "Elder Sister smells wonderful! When Mother sees you like this, she'll be overjoyed!" They resumed their journey through the fragrant sea of blossoms, startled butterflies fluttering in iridescent clouds around their boots. Dongzi sprinted ahead to chase a swallow-tail, prompting her to call out, "Little brother, stop playing! We must find Mother, she must be frantic with worry—"
Before the final syllable left her lips, the azure sky violently curdled. Heavy, pitch-black storm clouds rolled across the heavens, plunging the valley into an absolute, impenetrable abyss of darkness. Out of the void pierced Dongzi’s bloodcurdling shriek: "Elder Sister! Elder Sister—!" His voice receded rapidly into the distance until it was swallowed entirely by the roaring dark. Stumbling blindly across the jagged rocks, Li Hongtang screamed into the void, "Little brother! Little brother—!" No answering cry returned; only the howling, cataclysmic fury of an incoming tempest battered her ears. Sinking to her knees in despair, she wept hot, bitter tears, wailing aloud, "Mother... I've lost little brother, Mother—"
Every time Li Hongtang jolted awake from this recurring nightmare, her limbs were paralyzed with fatigue, drenched in cold sweat, before consciousness slipped away once more into the heavy fog of sleep.
And the moment she lapsed back into slumber, the exact same dream replayed itself, identical down to the final heartbeat.
While Li Hongtang was trapped in the repetitive cycle of her nocturnal torment, Shangguan Wenqing was enduring a physical and psychological purgatory without precedent.
The previous night, a faint, phantom tickle had begun crawling across a patch of skin on his body, as though an invisible ant were traversing his flesh. He had mindlessly scratched at the spot. Within moments, the itching intensified, morphing into a burning, agonizing irritation. He scratched harder, sinking his nails into the flesh. Yet no matter how viciously he clawed, the localized itch refused to subside, accompanied now by a deep, boring ache.
He escalated his assault, gouging his fingernails deep into the dermis.
Regardless of how violently he lacerated himself, the underlying itch burned hotter, accompanied by an excruciating, bone-deep agony.
He tore away at the flesh with reckless abandon.
Before long, the skin broke down entirely, weeping a dark, crimson-stained viscous fluid.
Even as that patch of skin degenerated into an open ulcer, a fresh wave of intolerable itching erupted across a completely different section of his body. Within the span of an hour, the torment spread relentlessly from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet. Every square inch of skin he scratched instantly liquefied into weeping, corrupted sores discharging dark, foul-smelling mucus.
Shangguan Wenqing was subjected to a relentless, merciless flaying of flesh and nerve.
The raw agony defied description.
His throat parched and raw, he shrieked into the empty room, "I'm itching to death! The pain is burning me alive—"
Hearing the unearthly cries, Zhu Yueniang pushed open the door to her son's chamber, freezing in absolute horror at the sight of her naked son writhing across the bed sheets amidst a grotesque patchwork of weeping, shredded ulcers.
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Zhu Yueniang’s heart felt as though it were being slowly bisected by a rusty blade; her son's agony was her own. If mortal laws permitted, she would gladly trade her own breath to assume his torments, praying only for his peace and health. How joyous and radiant her son had once been! Despite his dwarfed stature, he had habitually greeted her with a bright, comforting smile, declaring proudly, "Mother, I am the living immortal of Tang Town!" His infectious optimism had buoyed her spirits, allowing her to laugh off the cruel whispers of the townsfolk. But now? Her son's joy had been cruelly amputated, replaced by an incomprehensible, torturous malady. Why was Heaven so profoundly blind? He had entered the world crippled and deformed; why must he endure such horrific, refined torture on top of it all? Had she committed unforgivable sins in a past life, leaving her bloodline to pay the blood-debt in this incarnation?
Zhu Yueniang could not fathom why reality could be so brutally, sickeningly cruel!
Catching sight of his mother stumbling into the room, Shangguan Wenqing rolled onto his back, his face twisted in torment as he wept, "Mother... it itches, it burns so terribly! I can't reach the center of my back, please—scratch it for me, quickly!"
Without hesitating, Zhu Yueniang lunged forward, dragging her fingernails across his tortured spine. The moment her fingers dragged over the skin, fresh ulcers ruptured and bled.
Horrified by the carnage, hot tears blinding her vision, she choked out, "Wenqing... does it hurt?"
Gritting his teeth through a fresh wave of agony, Shangguan Wenqing hissed, "It doesn't hurt, Mother... it's just the itching! The itching is a thousand times worse than pain, please, keep scratching!"
Zhu Yueniang...
Zhu Yueniang hesitated, then resumed tearing at his flesh with trembling hands, her heart bleeding alongside every drop of his gore!
Shangguan Wenqing screamed, "Mother, stop! This isn't working—your fingers are too soft, it doesn't reach the fire beneath the skin—"
Sobbing hysterically, Zhu Yueniang cried out, "Then what can I do—what?!"
Shangguan Wenqing gasped, "Mother, go into the kitchen and bring me the iron spatula! Use the metal edge to scrape my back, it will offer true relief—go now, Mother, please!"
Zhu Yueniang wept floods of tears, "No! That's madness, I could never do such a thing!"
Shangguan Wenqing wailed, "I'm begging you, Mother, I can't endure this another second—"
Trapped in total helplessness, Zhu Yueniang rushed blindly to the cookhouse and returned clutching the heavy iron cooking spatula.
Standing over the bed, she began scraping the metal edge across her son's torn, bleeding back. With every scrape, fresh sheets of skin peeled away and dark blood welled up, matching the internal shredding of Zhu Yueniang's soul.
At long last, the torment abated; Shangguan Wenqing went completely rigid, his screams dying away as the itching and burning abruptly ceased. Yet his entire body was a pulverized ruin—from head to toe, every square inch of his epidermis was flayed open, weeping dark, congealed gore.
Zhu Yueniang reached instinctively for a spare tunic to cover his mangled frame.
He slapped her hands away weakly, gasping, "Mother... no. I'm burning up..."
This was the dead of winter, with freezing gales howling viciously against the exterior windowpanes.
What was happening to him?
Terrified that her poor son might actually expire in the freezing drafts of the night, Zhu Yueniang resolved to seek out Shangguan Qingqiu immediately.
Finding Shangguan Qingqiu still awake in the back workshop, aggressively pulling on a newly acquired brass water-pipe—a prized novelty he had flaunted ever since Grandpa Li seized absolute power—the old blacksmith sat puffing smoke while barking orders at his two apprentices. Absorbed in his petty self-importance, Zhu Yueniang burst into the room, tears streaming down her face as she blurted out the horrific condition of their son! Shangguan Qingqiu let out a dry cough, locked his brass pipe away inside an iron security box, and trudged out into the freezing wind behind Zhu Yueniang toward their home.
Reluctantly routed from his bed, veteran physician Zheng Shilin, accompanied by his son Zheng Chaozhong, arrived shortly thereafter.
Shangguan Wenqing lay flat upon the bedding, completely naked, resembling a freshly skinned frog. His eyes were wide open, fixed in a glassy, unblinking stare upon the rafters, his lips moving continuously in a disjointed, incomprehensible mumble. In this vast, cruel world, who could ever truly comprehend the secret grief and twisted joys locked within his soul?
Weeping bitterly, Zhu Yueniang pleaded, "Old Doctor Zheng, look at him—what path is left for us? Save my boy!"
Shangguan Qingqiu turned his face away, unable to bear the gruesome spectacle; the boy's mangled ruin filled him with a mixture of terror and agonizing guilt. Part of him wished he could flee back to the safety of his forge, where the steady clank of iron might drown out his conscience. Yet cowardice held him frozen; fleeing now would not only betray Zhu Yueniang utterly, but would brand him an unforgivable monster before the Zheng family. Trapped in moral purgatory, he was willing to pay any financial price for medicines, but confronting the physical reality of his son remained an insurmountable horror.
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Zheng Shilin reached down to check Shangguan Wenqing's pulse, his brow knotting into a dense, gnarled knot.
Anxious and trembling, Zheng Chaozhong whispered, "Father, how is he?"
After a prolonged, tense silence, Zheng Shilin exhaled a heavy, defeated breath: "I can find no pulse whatsoever!"
Yet Shangguan Wenqing was demonstrably alive: his eyes remained wide open, staring unblinkingly while his lips continued to drone unintelligible syllables.
Zheng Chaozhong stepped forward, pressed his own fingers against the boy's wrist, and after a minute shook his head in absolute bewilderment: "There is no perceptible pulse."
Zhu Yueniang wailed, throwing herself over the bed, "Doctor Zheng, you must bend your craft to save Wenqing! He is my very heart and soul!"
Shangguan Qingqiu added hoarsely, "Old Doctor Zheng, whatever measures are required, save his life! Whatever silver you demand, I will scrape it together!"
Shaking his head somberly, Zheng Shilin sighed, "Alas... this transcends the boundaries of mere money. We practitioners of the healing arts dedicate our lives to saving the afflicted, but Wenqing's condition is entirely outside our comprehension—we have never witnessed such a manifestation, and possess no pharmacopeia to treat it! Curiously, Tang Town is currently afflicted by two distinct maladies that completely defy medical science: one is Wenqing's affliction, and the other is young Miss Hongtang's sudden, catastrophic aging!"
Zheng Chaozhong chimed in, "Father, judging by the symptoms, it resembles some form of virulent, nameless blood toxin. Let me compound a potent herbal draught for internal consumption alongside an external wash to drive out the toxicity—we must test whether it arrests the decay."
Zheng Shilin stroked his beard, "Very well, let us attempt it."
Shangguan Qingqiu rushed out to fetch the herbal ingredients, returning hastily to hand them over for brewing.
Zhu Yueniang murmured, "Qingqiu... you must be exhausted. Return to the forge to rest, I will watch over him here."
A flicker of hesitation crossed Shangguan Qingqiu's face: "Perhaps I should return to the smithy... if left unguarded, someone might slip in and steal the inventory."
With a bitter, venomous laugh, Zhu Yueniang snapped, "You cold-blooded, heartless lump of iron! I must have been utterly possessed by demons to have married you. You are utterly useless in a crisis! Go on back to your precious scrap metal—to you, a pile of junk is worth more than your own son's breath! Go! Since you never regarded Wenqing as your flesh and blood to begin with, if he dies tonight, I swear I shall never darken your door again!"
With a dark, thunderous expression, Shangguan Qingqiu turned and stalked into the inner sleeping quarters, choosing not to return to the shop after all.
In truth, his own heart was bleeding beneath his stoic exterior.
Zhu Yueniang maintained her solitary vigil beside her son's bed through the entire, endless night. Following the application of the herbal wash prescribed by the Zheng family, a strange transformation had occurred by dawn: the weeping, mangled ulcers across Shangguan Wenqing's body had abruptly dried out, forming hard, crusty scabs. Throughout the dark hours, her son's feverish mumblings had continuously dropped a single, haunting name: "Hongtang." Why was he crying out for Li Hongtang? Zhu Yueniang was utterly clueless. She had completely overlooked a fundamental truth: despite his physical dwarfism, Shangguan Wenqing was a living, breathing man endowed with the full spectrum of mortal passions and romantic yearning.
As the first pale grey sliver of dawn bled over the horizon, Shangguan Wenqing finally drifted into a profound, silent slumber, his incessant muttering ceasing entirely.
Seizing the moment of quiet, Zhu Yueniang stepped out to prepare a simple morning broth.
Shangguan Qingqiu, who had likewise remained awake throughout the night, emerged early from the inner room, cast a brief, silent glance at his sleeping son without touching a morsel of food, and retreated directly to the iron forge.
By midday, while passing the smithy, Shangguan Qingqiu spotted Witch Wang shuffling past the doorway. The old witch radiated smug triumph, clutching a heavy cloth pouch tightly against her chest as though guarding a stolen treasure. Stopping her in her tracks, Shangguan Qingqiu called out, "Immortal Auntie Wang, step inside for a moment—I have an urgent matter to consult."
Hesitating briefly, Witch Wang crossed the threshold of the forge.
Leading her to a secluded back room, Shangguan Qingqiu laid bare the horrifying details of his son's affliction.
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Witch Wang listened with mounting skepticism, clicking her tongue, "How can such a monstrosity occur? Young Miss Hongtang has likewise fallen victim to a bizarre curse—rumor claims she was possessed by a fox spirit! Could your son have been similarly cursed by a fox immortal? If so, my meager skills are completely useless; my talismans cannot tame celestial spirits! However... I recall an old Daoist secret whispered among traveling exorcists—"
Gulping hard, Shangguan Qingqiu pleaded, "What secret? Tell me!"
Witch Wang lowered her voice to a raspy whisper, outlining a bizarre, unorthodox rite...
Once Witch Wang scuttled away with her bulging pouch, Shangguan Qingqiu marched straight to the Li estate to request an audience with Li Cilin.
After the guards cleared his entrance, Li Cilin emerged wearing an insincere, smiling mask: "Ah, Elder Qingqiu, what brings you to my humble doorstep?"
Boasting formidable physical strength, Shangguan Qingqiu abruptly hauled Li Cilin into a secluded, shadowy alcove of Xinglong Alley, his expression frantic: "Commander Cilin, I have never once begged a favor of you in all my years, correct?"
Li Cilin nodded, bewildered by the old blacksmith's manic aura.
Shangguan Qingqiu pressed on, "And when you commanded us to covertly forge massive quantities of spearheads and blades, did I ever leak a single word? Did I deliver on schedule, maintaining absolute quality?"
Li Cilin nodded again, growing impatient, "Indeed you did, His Majesty was exceedingly pleased. Elder Qingqiu, spit it out—what is your business? I am buried under a mountain of urgent state affairs!"
Scratching his head awkwardly, Shangguan Qingqiu blurted out, "I want to propose a match... I want you to give Hongtang's hand in marriage to my son, Wenqing!"
Li Cilin’s eyes bulged out of their sockets: "What did you just say? Repeat that into my ear!"
Shangguan Qingqiu repeated the outrageous proposal word for word.
A dark, murderous fury twisted Li Cilin's features as he spat, "Shangguan Qingqiu, listen to me very carefully! Do not imagine you can use those smuggled spear orders as blackmail against me—I don't play that game! You want to marry my daughter into your crippled household? You've lost your mind! I'd rather let her wither into an old maid confined to our halls forever than ever let her set foot in your door!"
Fuming with incandescent rage, Li Cilin whipped around and stormed off.
Shangguan Qingqiu emitted a long, desolate sigh of pure defeat.
He had never experienced such an all-pervading, bone-chilling frost settle into his marrow.
At that exact microsecond, back within the domestic bedroom, Shangguan Wenqing was undergoing a terrifying, agonizing metamorphosis. His body coiled into a tight, rigid fetus-like ball, his fingers clawing violently into his scalp as his eyeballs bulged frantically, threatening to burst from their sockets while primal, unearthly shrieks tore from his throat. An instant later, his legs kicked out with explosive force while his hands remained locked in his hair, the veins along his temples swelling to the thickness of writhing earthworms, vibrating with horrifying groans. As his body convulsed and curled inward once more, Zhu Yueniang, drawn by the ungodly noise, rushed frantically into the chamber.
What she beheld paralyzed her with utter disbelief.
Right before her eyes, the skin across the crown of Shangguan Wenqing's head violently ruptured! The split edges of the epidermis peeled backward in opposite directions, beginning to slide downward in a slow, agonizing descent—precisely like a snake shedding its winter skin, or as though an invisible, razor-sharp blade were peeling him alive.
Shangguan Wenqing shrieked in absolute, godforsaken agony.
Initially, he screamed for his mother: "Mother... Mother—"
Shortly after, his cries shifted into delirious invocation: "Hongtang... Hongtang—"
His voice rapidly degraded into a raspy, bubbling rattle. As the entire envelope of skin from his head and face slid downward past his neck, he lost all capacity for articulate speech, emitting only wet, gurgling bubbles in his throat as he choked on the descending tide of blood and serum.
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Shangguan Wenqing’s entire frame thrashed across the mattress in violent, rhythmic waves.
The scabs formed overnight over his ulcerated skin cracked open anew, caught in the relentless shedding process.
The dead skin sloughed off inch by inch, descending steadily down his torso, thighs, and finally off his toes.
When the shedding completed, Shangguan Wenqing lay completely bare upon the bed—smooth, hairless, and glowing with a fresh layer of tender, baby-pink skin beneath.
He lapsed into sudden, absolute stillness, closing his eyes to drift into the deep, peaceful slumber of an infant.
Trembling uncontrollably, Zhu Yueniang stepped forward and scooped up the discarded husk of skin lying upon the sheets. It was dry and parchment-thin, identical in every respect to a discarded snakeskin.
"How can this be? How is this possible?" Zhu Yueniang whispered in a trance-like daze. "My son is no serpent... why is he shedding his skin like a reptile?"
It defied every law of nature and mortal logic!
Had she not witnessed it with her own eyes, she would have dismissed it as a psychotic hallucination. Whispering to the sleeping boy, she murmured, "Wenqing... are you truly a living immortal? Is it true that immortals do not die, but merely shed their mortal coils like serpents? Tell me... tell me the truth, my son!"
After a long interval, Shangguan Wenqing's body gave a slight twitch. He fluttered his eyes open, gazing up at her with profound innocence: "Mother... what happened to me?"
Zhu Yueniang breathed, "Do you truly not remember anything?"
Blinking sluggishly, Shangguan Wenqing shook his head: "I remember nothing, Mother... I only felt as though I were trapped inside a boiling cauldron of oil, burning alive—"
Completely shaken to her core, Zhu Yueniang stared at him with a vacant, shattered gaze, entirely at a loss for words.
Shangguan Wenqing murmured, "Mother... I feel terribly cold, and so hungry—"
The familiar plea pierced through her shock, grounding her in reality; these were the words of her living human son. Dropping the horrifying snakeskin to the floor, she snatched a heavy quilt and wrapped it securely around his shivering frame. His eyes locked onto hers with a crystalline, childlike purity—the innocent gaze of a newborn infant. The sight wrung her maternal heart with fresh anguish. "Wait just a moment, my child, Mother will fetch you nourishment at once—"
Turning toward the door, a sudden panic seized her. What if he caught sight of the shed skin lying upon the flags? What horrifying conclusions would he draw? She could not permit him to discover this secret—nor could she allow Shangguan Qingqiu, her in-laws, or a single soul in Tang Town to ever catch wind of it! If the superstitious townsfolk learned of this monstrosity, they would condemn her son as a demonic freak and burn him alive at the stake! Driven by desperate maternal protection, as she busied herself stoking the kitchen hearth to boil broth, she took the parchment-like human husk and thrust it deep into the roaring flames of the stove. The skin crackled loudly amidst a dense, choking cloud of acrid, sickening smoke.
Meanwhile, in the narrow, quiet artery of Qinghua Alley, Shen Zhuniang and Li Saogu crossed paths by pure coincidence.
Li Saogu was marching toward Zhu Yinshan’s residence, while Shen Zhuniang was headed for the agricultural fields to harvest turnips.
As Li Saogu turned into the mouth of Qinghua Alley, Shen Zhuniang had not yet stepped past her threshold. The desolation of the empty alley instantly triggered memories of the eerie, mocking nocturnal giggles that haunted these walls, sending an involuntary shiver down his spine. Had his business with Zhu Yinshan not been mandatory, he would have avoided setting foot in this cursed alley for the rest of his natural days.
Emerging from her doorway, Shen Zhuniang’s mind flashed with a resentful grievance: Why hasn't that murdering bastard Li Saogu come to see me lately? Just as the thought crossed her mind, she spotted the sword-carrying enforcer striding directly toward her. A surge of wild, reckless elation flooded her chest—had he abandoned nocturnal assignations in favor of daytime trysts? A wave of fierce, uninhibited desire flushed her veins; if he demanded it here in broad daylight, she would gladly surrender her body to him.
Shen Zhuniang’s face blossomed into an eager, welcoming smile.
Her eyes locked onto Li Saogu's face with burning intensity.
Li Saogu’s expression remained rigid and blank, though internally he was paralyzed by cold terror—though not prompted by Shen Zhuniang's presence.
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Shen Zhuniang remained entirely oblivious to his psychological collapse.
Li Saogu refused to meet her gaze, remaining utterly indifferent to the ardent, hungry invitation shining in her eyes.
They converged directly in the center of the narrow lane.
Both halted their advance simultaneously, each looking as though they were choking on unvoiced words.
Neither dared break the silence first, as though speaking the initial syllable might summon instant death.
Dead silence.
The atmosphere in Qinghua Alley grew preternaturally heavy; Li Saogu felt as though a pair of invisible, malicious eyes were pressing against them from the shadows.
He prayed frantically that Shen Zhuniang would simply walk past him without opening her mouth; conversely, Shen Zhuniang silently willed him to pull her back into the shadows regardless of whether Yu Gouzi lay sleeping at home.
The standoff stretched into absurdity, yet felt charged with profound, ominous significance.
Shen Zhuniang’s chest heaved with rapid, shallow breaths.
Li Saogu felt his entire bloodline freeze to ice.
In that fraction of time, mortal desire evaporated completely—annihilated by the memory of a dead woman whose specter glared vindictively from somewhere within the stone walls of Qinghua Alley. Panic screamed at him to flee. Yet Zhu Yinshan was waiting at home, perhaps pouring hot spiced tea at that very moment; and since Zhu Yinshan held enough political capital that even Grandpa Li dared not cross him, Li Saogu had no choice but to swallow his terror and march forward.
Shen Zhuniang finally cracked under the oppressive vacuum.
Breaking the silence, she snapped, "Where the hell do you think you're marching?"
Li Saogu retorted icily, "Where I walk is none of your damn business."
What a worthless hypocrite, putting on airs like a righteous gentleman, Shen Zhuniang thought with bitter contempt.
She pressed further, "You aren't coming to see me?"
Li Saogu sneered, "I'm not out of my mind—why the hell would I seek you out?"
Gritting her teeth, Shen Zhuniang hissed, "You spineless, treacherous bastard!"
Recalling Wang Haihua’s venomous warnings whispered against his pillow, Li Saogu lunged forward, grabbing Shen Zhuniang roughly by the sleeve as she attempted to brush past, and snarled, "Shen Zhuniang, I'm warning you—keep your filthy mouth shut about my wife from now on, or you'll answer directly to me! Do you understand?!"
Shen Zhuniang sneered back with venomous malice, "Li Saogu, don't try to terrify me! I wasn't raised on empty threats! Let me tell you something as well: tell your precious wife to tone down her arrogant swagger before it brings ruin to your doorstep! If she continues parading through the streets acting like an empress, I'll continue putting her in her place—I'm simply doing you the favor of disciplining your bitch! Now take your filthy hands off me before I tear your face open! In this wretched age, relying on men like you would have starved me to the bone years ago!"
Li Saogu wrenched his hand back.
Shen Zhuniang spat in disgust and stomped past him.
Li Saogu had never anticipated such a ferocious, cornered reaction—she had lashed back like a stepped-on viper.
A deep, shivering dread rippled across his nerves.
He forced himself to steady his breathing, summoning false bravado, yet his muscles refused to obey commands, trembling uncontrollably.
He could find no rational explanation for the consuming terror eating at his soul.
It felt as though absolute, inescapable catastrophe was finally crashing down upon his head.
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