Chapter Forty-Four: Romance in the House of Blossoms

“February 1st, 2020!” Anwu stared at his subordinate’s strange behavior, his voice trembling slightly.

But his subordinate replied, “Sir, you must be joking. This should be the Eastern Han Dynasty, over two hundred years have passed. Are you saying I’ve slept for two thousand years?”

“It’s just as I thought,” Fang You said. “After this woman died, rooster blood was splashed over her coffin, disturbing her soul and yin energy, causing her spirit to remain within her body in slumber. Judging by her appearance, she seems gentle enough, but after a thousand years, her soul has gained power and could be dangerous.”

“What are you gentlemen talking about? I don’t understand,” Anwu’s subordinate said with a coquettish smile. “If you’re in the mood, why not let Muyan undress for you and entertain you together?” As he spoke, he stepped forward, attempting to help Anwu disrobe.

Leaving aside the fact that they were surrounded by others, the thought of his own male subordinate trying to undress him was intolerable.

Anwu slapped his subordinate across the face and seized him by the collar. “All the brothers who came in with us are dead. Damn it, pull yourself together! I swear I’ll get you out of here alive!”

“You’re so rough!” his subordinate pouted, rubbing his cheek with a hint of grievance. “But I quite like a man with some force.”

“Master Anwu, calm down!” Fang You hurried to warn him. “He’s been possessed by a vengeful spirit—he can’t recognize anyone anymore!”

“Forget your talk of ghosts and spirits; all I see are a few lustful men!” Anwu’s subordinate teased in a woman’s voice, then suddenly noticed the red coffin ahead, her expression growing suspicious. “You gentlemen could have come empty-handed, but you brought a coffin. Are you indulging in some peculiar kink? If that’s the case, it’ll cost extra—a coffin is hard and unlucky, and I’ll need to charge for both comfort and cleansing!”

“Quick, before the lady’s spirit fully awakens—burn her body!” Fang You commanded those around him. “The body is a vessel for the soul; destroy the vessel and the spirit will dissipate. Even if she is a thousand-year spirit, burning the corpse will greatly weaken her power!”

Suddenly, Anwu’s possessed subordinate bowed his head, then burst out laughing. “If you remember me for a day, I will think of you for a lifetime!”

“Fire-oil candle!” Bai Ling, a descendant of the grave robbers, pulled out a specially made candle from his pack—wax on the outside, oil within. Once lit, it would burn through to the oil in three minutes, igniting a fierce blaze, particularly effective against corpse spirits.

But now, with the thousand-year soul emerging, they could only burn the physical body first to sever the connection, then find a way to expel the spirit.

Just as Bai Ling hurled the fire-oil candle, a sudden violent wind swept through the sealed tomb. A streak of red light shot out from Anwu’s body, returning to the red coffin.

The subordinate, now freed of the spirit, collapsed lifelessly to the ground.

Fang You rushed over and, after a moment, spoke in disbelief: “His soul has been devoured!”

Indeed, Anwu’s man lay before Fang You with vacant eyes, breath stilled—his three souls and seven spirits utterly vanished, no trace of life remaining. Most likely, in the instant after being possessed, his soul was consumed.

Meanwhile, the fire-oil candle Bai Ling had thrown was caught in midair by a delicate hand reaching out from the coffin.

From within came a woman’s laughter. “I had no intention of returning to this world, but thieves disturb my rest. To guard my husband’s tomb, I am willing to fight with my life!”

“Husband?” Fang You realized that the thousand-year-old spirit had reunited with her body, the soul whole once again. This was now an even more formidable adversary.

From the coffin, a woman in a crimson bridal robe, golden phoenix hairpin in her hair, and a fair, attractive face slowly sat up.

“I am Lin Muyan. Gentlemen, do you truly intend to rob this tomb?” she asked in a low, ethereal voice.

“It seems you are fully conscious,” Fang You replied. “We mean no harm, but the leeches in the black water behind us have been disturbed, and outside the pool, the flesh-eaters are guarding the only exit. We cannot turn back; we can only go forward.” He looked at the corpse. She did not appear to be a bloodthirsty demon, merely a spirit disturbed into slumber to accompany the tomb’s master.

“This is my husband’s tomb. I cannot allow anyone to desecrate it, to break the coffin, or disturb his peace,” the corpse said, fingering her golden hairpin and silver jewelry. “If you seek fortune, I have gold and silver on me—take it. I am already dead and have no use for such things. Please, I beg you, do not destroy the tomb’s tranquility.”

Fang You felt a pang of guilt. Here they were, robbing the tomb, and the corpse herself was pleading for mercy, offering her own treasures in exchange for the peace of the grave. It made them feel no better than villains, grave-robbers violating the dead.

The group exchanged uneasy glances.

Suddenly, Daoist Qiu produced his spirit monkey and declared, “I care nothing for spirits or corpses! Call us thieves if you like, but with leeches and flesh-eaters blocking our retreat, we have no choice but to fight!”

The spirit monkey rapidly grew in size, baring its fangs and claws, apparently ready to devour the woman’s corpse.

“This is no demon, no fiend, nor even a true jiangshi,” Daoist Qiu said. “It’s simply a long-slumbering spirit with some accumulated power. We can defeat her. Everyone—attack together!”

“Daoist Qiu Ruji!” Fang You tried to stop him, but the corpse woman only smiled faintly before leaping up, passing her hand through the spirit monkey’s body. Blood spattered, and in two swift movements, the monkey fell limp, reverting to its original form.

Seeing his precious spirit monkey slain, Daoist Qiu was enraged. “This monkey was brought back from the Immortal Mountain at great cost! Either you die today, or I do!” He charged forward, whisk in hand.

But the woman’s corpse vanished in a blur, reappearing instantly behind Daoist Qiu.

Daoist Qiu realized in a flash he could not escape his fate. Gritting his teeth, he shouted, “If anyone escapes this tomb, tell Zhang Xianling, descendant of the Marquis of the Grave-Openers on Mount Taiwu, that Qiu Ruji has failed to recover the lost seal. I am deeply ashamed—please let him know!” He hurled his bag toward Fang You. “Take what’s inside as my thanks—farewell!”

In the next instant, the corpse’s left hand pierced through Daoist Qiu’s body. He groaned, and she bit into his neck, sucking the soul from his body. In moments, his form shriveled and collapsed to the ground.

The corpse gently released him, his body falling in a heap.

“I never wished to harm you, gentlemen,” she said softly. “Why risk your lives for mere wealth?”