Guide to the Rebirth of the Evil Woman in the Immortal Realm - Chapter 32

It was night in the Taiyin Palace.

The Second Prince, Chu Huaizhuang, had been gone for a while. Seeing the palace lanterns lighting up one by one outside, Shen Fuxin cleansed herself and climbed onto the bed. While sitting cross-legged and circulating her spiritual energy, she remarked, “Chu Huaizhuang doesn’t look like she’s suffering from hysteria.”

Shen Sha had grown accustomed to Shen Fuxin’s diligent cultivation over the past few days. Ji Ting, leaning back in a chair and watching the focused Shen Fuxin, asked lazily, “What makes you say that?”

“Intuition,” Shen Fuxin replied. “She doesn’t seem like a particularly good person, either.”

Ji Ting laughed at her words. Having finished circulating her energy, Shen Fuxin took out the two cauldrons she had stolen from the Sword Terrace to tinker with them.

She had kept the cauldrons with her lately but had yet to find suitable materials for alchemy, so they remained idle. Even so, Shen Fuxin did not slack off. She traveled by day and cultivated by night, refining her spiritual fire every evening. Once the temperature in the room rose, it became a haze of heat and smoke.

Ji Ting could still rest with her eyes closed under the firelight, but Shen Sha was baked until she was drenched in sweat. Cold on the outside but warm on the inside, she couldn’t bring herself to protest against the tireless and clearly studious Shen Fuxin. Instead, she resorted to bathing once at night and then quietly again upon waking.

By the time Shen Fuxin finished her cultivation duties, the night was deep.

Shen Sha had already gone to rest in a vacant room in the side hall half an hour ago. When Shen Fuxin opened her eyes, Shen Sha was nowhere to be seen. Only Ji Ting remained, napping in the sandalwood chair with her signature jade-colored outer robe draped over her.

“Finished cultivating?” The black-haired, jade-clad immortal yawned and stood up. “Let’s go.”

Shen Fuxin watched Ji Ting rustle into her outer garment. “Where to?”

Ji Ting pushed open the door. The galaxy hung above her head, and the summer night breeze still carried the scorching residual heat of the day, fluttering her sleeves and long hair. “Didn’t you say we were going to find Immortal Guteng?”

At some point, Shen Fuxin had grown used to Ji Ting’s presence. For Shen Fuxin, this was perhaps not a good thing.

However, the wind carried the scent of plum candy from Ji Ting. This scent had followed her from the Immortal Realm all the way to the mortal world, soaking into the rooms, the bedding, and the robes, making it impossible for Shen Fuxin to ignore. Immersed in the breeze mixed with the other’s breath, she lowered her eyes and said coldly, “I didn’t say I’d look for him with you.”

Ji Ting said gently, “But I want to look for him with you.”

Shen Fuxin ignored her and stepped out, not caring that Ji Ting followed leisurely behind. If she wanted to follow, let her. Immortal Guteng’s position was still shifting, but the range wasn’t far; he seemed to be near the sleeping quarters where the Emperor rested at night.

She concealed her form and followed the direction of the spiritual energy along the palace paths for a while, only to run into two palace servants patrolling with lanterns. Shen Fuxin intended to brush past them, but Ji Ting grabbed her wrist from behind and gently pulled her back.

The two servants seemed to be nearing the end of their shift and had let down their guard. One turned her head and whispered to the other, “Make sure you don’t cross the Crown Prince these next two days.”

“I know. The commotion at Yueqian Palace today was quite loud,” the other lantern-bearing servant replied. “What happened to the Crown Prince?”

“It’s all because of the Divine Rite.”

Shen Fuxin listened so intently that she forgot to pull away from Ji Ting, letting her hold her wrist loosely.

The slightly older servant lowered her voice even further, whispering to her companion, “The Crown Prince proposed to remove the statue of the War God from the Divine Rite celebration. It displeased Her Majesty. After all, the War God has never been removed from the rite in over a thousand years. It’s a bit out of line.”

At the mention of such a sensitive topic, the two servants fell silent simultaneously and changed the subject. “That’s not all. This evening, the Fourth Prince was released from the Teaching Palace. He cried all the way along the palace path to the Crown Prince’s hall, begging for an audience.”

The Fourth Prince certainly has thick skin, Shen Fuxin thought. If she were the Crown Prince and he bothered her like this every other day, she would have had him locked up on his second visit. If he dared move again, she’d have him beaten to death with iron rods.

“So… did the Crown Prince agree to see him?”

“Of course not. That’s why I’m saying not to anger the Crown Prince these two days. Besides, the day after tomorrow is Her Majesty’s birthday. You haven’t been in the palace long; you must be careful on duty.”

The voices of the two passed by Shen Fuxin. Seeing no one around, their discussion turned even more private. “Hey, do you know Sister Li from the Crown Prince’s palace and Sister Zhu from the Third Prince’s palace? They told me yesterday they have three years left before they can collect their silver and petition to leave the palace.”

“They should be getting married after they leave,” the voices of the two servants faded into the distance. “They are both good people. We should send them a wedding gift when the time comes.”

Every story has an ending. Shen Fuxin looked down at the departing figures of the mortals. People here met, fell in love, spent their lives together, and returned to the dust. As an immortal who neither aged nor died, what would her ending be?

At that moment, rain began to fall in the wind. The strand of spiritual energy tied to Immortal Guteng wavered and vanished, making it difficult to pinpoint his location. Standing by the damp red palace wall, Shen Fuxin felt the sky above her darken. She looked up and saw a green umbrella fashioned from a leaf.

Ji Ting stood beside her holding the umbrella, whispering, “Still looking?”

They stood very close. This time, Shen Fuxin did not push her away.

“No,” Shen Fuxin shook her head. “We’ll try again tomorrow.”

They walked slowly along the palace path. The palace walls on either side felt like a surging, backwards-flowing red river. With every step, Shen Fuxin could hear the sound of her own heartbeat. She walked in silence for a while, suddenly realizing this was the first time someone had ever held an umbrella for her.

The two returned to the side hall without a word as the rain grew heavier. Looking at Ji Ting as she closed the umbrella, Shen Fuxin suddenly asked, “Once you regain your memories, where will you go?”

Ji Ting was a bit surprised. She looked at Shen Fuxin standing under the yellow palace lantern. The warm light softened the lines of her face. Ji Ting originally wanted to crack a joke as she usually did, but seeing Shen Fuxin’s eyes filled with light, her heart suddenly softened.

“Back to the Immortal Realm to do what needs to be done,” Ji Ting shook the water droplets from the umbrella and looked at Shen Fuxin. “After that, there will be many, many long and lonely days. So, when I’m bored in the future, may I come to your home for a drink?”

Shen Fuxin turned back toward the hall. “A thousand spirit stones for a jar of wine. If you can afford it, come.”

Ji Ting chuckled softly under the eaves. The night was long and restless. Shen Fuxin tossed and turned on the bed, but she never heard the sound of Ji Ting returning to her room. Just as she was about to fall asleep, she heard the sound of someone playing the flute outside in the rain.

For some reason, Shen Fuxin knew intuitively it was Ji Ting.

She didn’t push open the window to look. She simply rolled over, closed her eyes, and wove her dreams to sleep like an ordinary mortal living there.

The rain continued the next day, evolving from a poetic drizzle into a storm of thunder and lightning. In such weather, few people were willing to step outside.

Tomorrow was Emperor Ruwen’s birthday. The rare peonies in the imperial garden had all been battered. Fearing the roots of these delicate things would rot in the rainwater, the servants had moved them outside the halls while the rain was still manageable, lining them up in a row.

Shen Fuxin looked at Ji Ting and Shen Sha sitting at the table. She had expected a quiet day, but someone arrived just after the hour of the Snake. Flipping through the alchemy book given by the Great Goddess Yandan, she glanced up. The visitor was not the Third Prince, Chu Huailing, who had brought them in, nor was it the Second Prince, Chu Huaizhuang, who had visited the previous evening.

She clearly looked more composed than her two younger sisters. Chu Huaijing shook a few drops of rain from her clothes, standing as straight as bamboo. “Are you immortals accustomed to living here?”

“It’s fine,” Shen Fuxin put down her book. “Presumably, you are the Crown Prince.”

Chu Huaijing smiled at them. She seemed weighed down by official duties and only stood by the open door to chat briefly. She asked small questions about whether any preparations were needed for the immortals’ magic tomorrow, then stepped back into the rain under the service of her attendants.

Shen Sha was puzzled. “She asked only about trivialities. Why come personally in the rain?”

“To keep an eye on things for her sisters, I suppose,” Ji Ting said, watching her hem disappear into the torrential rain with a smile. “She’s afraid we’ll trick her sisters and run off with them.”

Chu Huaijing, hurrying to and fro, did not know they were discussing her. She led a group of umbrella-bearing guards along the long palace path, intending to go to the hall once more to persuade her Imperial Mother to remove the War God’s statue. She had gone once yesterday, but as she was not particularly eloquent, she had failed to convince her. Now, she had to brace herself and try again.

As she passed a certain spot, an earnest cry of “Crown Prince” came from a corner. Chu Huaijing turned and saw the person was the personal servant of her third sister.

Chu Huailing stood under the eaves with a faint expression. She had originally intended to go to the Treasure Pavilion in the inner palace to look for that statue, but the heavy rain had stopped her, trapping her there. Coincidentally, she had run into her elder sister, the Crown Prince.

Recalling the message from the servants yesterday, Chu Huailing turned her head slightly and said softly, “Sister, what a coincidence.”

Her coldness didn’t last long before it was covered by the straw raincoat Chu Huaijing had taken off.

Chu Huaijing gave the raincoat to Chu Huailing and took a sturdy umbrella from a guard to hold over both of them. Seeing her elder sister instantly soaked, Chu Huailing had no choice but to follow her lead.

The two walked side-by-side along the palace path that so many sisters of the Taiyin royal family had walked before. As they neared Chu Huailing’s quarters, Chu Huaijing struggled inwardly. She wanted to mention the proposal to remove the War God’s statue, but when the words reached her lips, they turned into something else.

“Chu Tian came to see me yesterday.”

Upon hearing this, Chu Huailing looked silently from under the umbrella at her sister’s normal expression. She knew her sister advocated for tolerance and benevolent rule, but what she could least stand was her sister’s habit of tolerating everything for the sake of the big picture.

The more it was like this, the more she wanted to sting her. Like when they were children and she would hug her sister so tightly that her sharp nails dug into her skin; the more it hurt, the less she wanted to let go.

“Does Sister just want to tell me these things on purpose?” Chu Huailing said mildly. “I know he looked for you. I don’t care.”

Chu Huaijing paused for a moment and said, “I didn’t open the door for him.”

Chu Huailing was stunned. She looked at Chu Huaijing. A look of helplessness appeared on a face that looked less and less like her own. Chu Huailing said nothing more, pulling back her sharp, stinging nails. The more silent they became, the more they looked like each other in the reflections of their pupils, like a shadow cast on the water.

After escorting her to the palace gates, Chu Huaijing didn’t linger and walked back into the umbrella-filled rain. She left only Chu Huailing and the still-warm raincoat in her hands.