Siheyuan: tomb robbing? I am serious about hunting.

Chapter 1006 Meditation

Carefully wiping the patterns on the scabbard, the soul-calming spell engraved there gradually became visible in the sunlight. "Where are you going, sir?" Ah Zhu asked while wiping the sword, his eyes sparkling - since following Shen Yanzhi, what he looked forward to most was traveling around and listening to the sir tell stories about the Yin and Yang world. Shen Yanzhi stroked the patterns on the scabbard, and his fingertips paused at the place where the word "Qin" was engraved: "Go and see what happened to the weasel spirit." He remembered that the emperor's decree stated that Liu Que's punishment was to "be imprisoned in the imperial mausoleum and never be allowed out." But according to news from the old members of the Zhenbei Army, the weasel spirit suddenly disappeared on the way to the imperial mausoleum, and the escorting guards only found a few brown-yellow hairs in the cage, which were still stained with the fishy smell of the Beidi secret medicine. "That demon has been restless for three hundred years. Now that it's without Prince Rui's protection, it might be causing trouble again." Shen Yanzhi tied the peach wood sword to his waist. The red rope on the sword tassel gently clashed with the fragments of the jade pendant in the brocade pouch at his waist, making a small sound. Ah Zhu suddenly pointed at his shadow and exclaimed, "Sir, look!" The autumn sun slanted into the room, casting Shen Yanzhi's shadow on the blue brick floor, his outline clearly visible. However, hanging from the shadow's waist was a blurry jade pendant. The pattern of a ghost face was faintly visible in the light and shadow, and the edges were shimmering with a faint green light - very similar to Qin Yue's Chilong pendant. Shen Yanzhi looked down at his waist. The brocade pouch contained only the prince's letter and half a magnolia petal. He smiled at the shadow and stretched out his hand to grasp the jade pendant at his waist. The shadow's jade pendant seemed to be grasped by him, and the green light flashed and disappeared. "It seems that General Qin is still watching us," he said to Ah Zhu with a tone of relief. While packing, Ah Zhu discovered a small brocade pouch in Shen Yanzhi's bag. Inside was some brownish-yellow hair and half a black talisman—they'd found it on Liu Que's person, and Shen Yanzhi had kept it, claiming it could be used to track demonic creatures through its yin energy. The talisman now glowed darkly in the sunlight, much fainter than it had been three months ago, yet a chilling presence could still be felt, like a small snake slithering across the paper. "Sir, this is the map Chief Zhao sent." Ah Zhu handed over a parchment scroll. On it, cinnabar marked the location of Liu Que's disappearance—a mass grave west of the imperial mausoleum. Once a contact point for Northern Di spies, it was now overgrown with weeds and reputedly haunted by phosphorescent lights at night. Shen Yanzhi unfolded the map and circled the mass grave, not far from the pass where the former Zhenbei Army was stationed. "Let's go," Shen Yanzhi shouldered his bag. The files and new manuscripts in the camphorwood box swayed gently within the bag, making a soft rustling sound. Ah Zhu was carrying a small bag filled with dry food, medicine for wounds, and a can of Yunwu Tea from the Northern Army of Zhen - he had secretly stuffed it in there, thinking that he might meet interesting people on the road and share the fragrance of this tea with the flavor of the border. When he walked out of the inn, an old flower seller was passing by with his load on his shoulder. When he saw Shen Yanzhi, he smiled and handed him a peony: "Mr. Shen, are you going on a long journey? Take this flower with you to stay safe." Dewdrops on the petals dripped onto the back of Shen Yanzhi's hand, and the cool touch was surprisingly warm. He thought of the black fog in the county three months ago, and then looked at the peonies all over the city. He suddenly understood what Qin Yue meant by "fairness" - it was not the emperor's will, but the peace in the hearts of the people. In front of the City God Temple, several old Taoists were chatting around a stone incense burner. One of them, holding a newly copied copy of the "Records of the Netherworld," pointed to the entry for "The New Lord of the Netherworld" and marveled, "I hear this General Zhao has established new rules in the Netherworld. All souls who died unjustly can go to the 'Zhaoxue Hall' to file their petitions, and they'll hear cases just like in the mortal realm." Another Taoist interjected, "Not only that! Last night, while meditating, I saw a golden light rising from the direction of the Netherworld. The old Taoist in the temple said it was General Qin and his family crossing the Naihe Bridge!" Their voices were quiet, but they were heard by Shen Yanzhi, who was passing by. Ah Zhu couldn't help but turn around to look, his eyes filled with curiosity. Shen Yanzhi didn't look back, but simply pinned the peony to his bag and set off briskly onto the official road. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, falling on him. The shadow of the peach wood sword swayed gently on the ground, occasionally overlapping with the shadow of the brocade bag at his waist, as if an invisible hand was guiding him forward. "Sir, is General Qin really among the immortals?" Ah Zhu trotted to catch up, the windmill in his hand spinning faster. Shen Yanzhi looked at the pass in the distance. The outline there looked like a dormant giant beast in the sunlight. It was the direction of the border that Qin Yue had guarded back then. "Maybe. But for him, being able to reunite with his family and see peace on the border is more important than any immortal class." In the post station beside the official road, several merchants were talking around the tea table. One of them was holding a newly copied "Records of the Netherworld" and was talking about the chapter about the appearance of the Ghost King. "Later, the Ghost King turned into golden light and left. I heard he went to a good place." The storyteller's voice was rhythmic. "From then on, there was no more vicious Ghost King in the world. Only a legend was left - it said that wherever there is injustice, the shadow of the golden-armored general will appear to protect those who have been wronged." Shen Yanzhi walked through the post station holding Ah Zhu's hand without stopping. He knew that this legend would spread like dandelion seeds, scattered everywhere with the footsteps of traveling merchants, perhaps in a small border town, or perhaps in a water village south of the Yangtze River. Someone would always remember that three hundred years ago, a general was wrongfully killed, and three hundred years later, his crime was finally vindicated. As they got farther and farther away from the county town, Shen Yanzhi looked back. The golden roof of the City God Temple gleamed in the sun. A newly copied copy of "Records of the Netherworld" was waiting to be read on the shelf of the bookstore. A peony was tied to the reins, the same pink and white peony that was sold in the flower baskets of the county town. On the stone steps on the other side of the bridge stood a woman in a wedding dress. A silver hairpin was inserted in her bun, exactly the same as the one in the portrait of Madam Qin Yue. The embroidered shoes that appeared under her skirt were embroidered with a pair of mandarin ducks - a detail that had never appeared in the illustrations of "Records of the Netherworld". The woman held a brocade box in her hand, the lid half open, revealing half of a dragon pendant, which was an exact match for the half that Shen Yanzhi had buried under the magnolia tree. "I see." Shen Yanzhi gently closed the manuscript, the scent of ink lingering on his fingertips. He recalled the look in Qin Yue's eyes as his shadowy figure finally transformed into golden light. There was no resentment in them, only relief—three hundred years of waiting had finally brought a reunion. Ah Zhu was dusting the bookshelf with a feather duster when she suddenly pointed at the Jiangnan General Chronicle and asked, "Sir, should we return that General Chronicle to the county magistrate?" Shen Yanzhi shook his head. "Keep it. Perhaps it will be useful later." On the third shelf, the original and the newly copied copy of "Records of the Netherworld" stood side by side. Sunlight filtered through the window lattice, catching the spines. The yellow of the old book contrasted with the azure blue of the new, like a century of time merging here. From outside the window came the call of an old flower seller. "Fresh peonies!" The long, drawn-out melody mingled with the distant chimes of the City God Temple, resonating particularly brightly in the clear autumn sky.