Please, Don’t Die - Chapter 24

Ying Hongfeng, having been suddenly assigned to the old madam, took his leave first to prepare for the household arrangements.

He Qingsheng followed behind him with the little ghost, and seeing them depart, Ying Qujie also found an excuse to leave.

At the corner of the corridor.

“Cousin, hold on,” Ying Qujie called out to Ying Hongfeng.

Ying Hongfeng bowed in greeting, “Eldest Young Master.”

Ying Qujie glanced at He Qingsheng and reached out to pat Ying Hongfeng’s right shoulder.

“What instructions does the Eldest Young Master have?” Ying Hongfeng asked, puzzled, as he looked at Ying Qujie. This was his first time meeting the newly returned eldest son of the general’s residence, and they had no prior interactions.

“Nothing, just a stray wisp of fluff,” Ying Qujie calmly withdrew his hand, a hair-thin silver needle retracting into his sleeve, its tip stained with a trace of blood. “During my travels abroad, Cousin managed the household for Madam Su for years, laboring tirelessly. My gratitude is truly beyond words.”

“You flatter me, Eldest Young Master. Six years ago, when my family fell into hardship, it was only through the kindness of the old madam and Madam Su that I was taken in.”

This Ying Hongfeng was quite sharp.

From what Ying Qujie knew, not long after he left, the old madam had begun suffering from dementia.

Six years ago, judging by the timeline, Ying Hongfeng had been entirely cultivated by Madam Su. Yet in his words, he mentioned the old madam first. Regardless of Ying Qujie’s relationship with Madam Su or his stance toward the general’s residence, this phrasing was impeccable.

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, Ying Qujie returned to the side courtyard where he was temporarily staying.

“Speak. What’s going on?”

Ying Qujie looked at the little ghost, Ying Wen, who had been crying since they returned.

He Qingsheng had tried both threats and coaxing to no avail, so she resigned herself to softening her tone and began comforting the child. “Stop crying. Even if you’ve found your real father, there’s no need to get this emotional.”

Ying Qujie understood now, Ying Hongfeng and Ying Yuanqi bore some resemblance when standing together.

He had heard that some young masters in the capital took concubines or sought companionship as early as their teens. But to think that Ying Yuanqi, only nineteen this year, already had a five-year-old child was still rather hard to accept.

“Waaah… Sister, I… hic… I remembered who my father is,” Ying Wen sobbed, haltingly recounting his life as a ghost after his death to the two of them.

In summary, it was the mundane existence of a “bound spirit” with little awareness.

Ying Wen had died young, his mind not yet fully developed. Even with minimal lingering resentment, it was difficult for him to retain much consciousness. The places he could wander within the Ying residence were few, and it was sheer luck if he saw someone once every ten days or half a month.

This time in the Ying residence garden, had it not been for He Qingsheng, no one would have noticed his presence at all.

“Do you remember how you died?”

He Qingsheng recalled that ghosts with such limited mobility often repeated the events of their past lives.

She was an exception, but Ying Wen wasn’t.

Ying Wen sniffled and shook his head. When it came to his memories before death or the manner of his death, he knew nothing.

He Qingsheng pressed on, “How did you recognize just now that Ying Hongfeng was your father?”

Ying Wen shook his head again.

Ying Qujie carefully recalled the scene in the room and rephrased the question, “Wenwen, was it in the corridor, when I went to find Ying Hongfeng, that you confirmed he was your father?”

Ying Wen gave a small “Mm.” “In the room, both of them felt familiar. I couldn’t tell them apart.”

Two people, Ying Yuanqi and Ying Hongfeng. Though they looked alike, they weren’t so similar that a five-year-old child couldn’t distinguish between them.

He Qingsheng took over the conversation, guiding him patiently, “What’s the difference between inside and outside the house?”

Sisi stopped crying, and Ying Wen struggled to explain, “Outside… outside, outside I could smell Mother’s scent!”

“I remember Mother’s scent, sweet. Every time I smelled it, I’d wake up a little and come out to wander around.”

Who didn’t live in the Ying residence but frequently came and went?

Distant relatives!

He Qingsheng and Ying Qujie exchanged a glance, an idea forming in their minds.

“Where’s that needle of yours?”

Ying Qujie took out the silver needle and placed it on the table.

He Qingsheng handed him a talisman paper. “Use your blood to activate it, prick your finger with the needle.”

She couldn’t use spiritual energy now. The two magical artifacts, the golden bell and the trumpet, had been exhausted when dealing with the mountain god Wu Qilu. To use the talisman, she had to resort to the most primitive method, using blood as a medium to commune with heaven and earth.

Ying Qujie glanced at her, then took out a small knife and nicked his fingertip.

As the blood dripped onto the talisman, a dazzling burst of flames erupted from the paper in an instant.

He Qingsheng was inwardly shocked but kept a straight face.

Muttering incantations, she urged the talisman to take effect.

The flames burned out, scattering light in all directions.

Ying Qujie looked at her, puzzled by her sudden stillness. “What’s wrong?”

He Qingsheng beckoned to Ying Wen, and a surge of baleful energy immediately enveloped him, pulling him into the white jade pendant in Ying Qujie’s embrace.

Watching her actions, Ying Qujie feared she might devour the little ghost.

In the past, she had a habit of consuming malevolent things, and he hadn’t objected much, only making sure she didn’t make herself sick.

But now, faced with a child ghost, he worried she might find the kid troublesome.

Fortunately, the female ghost did nothing.

The white jade pendant flashed, absorbing all the baleful energy.

He Qingsheng’s expression turned grave. “The Ying residence… Ying Wen is everywhere.”

Ying Qujie frowned deeply. “What do you mean, everywhere?”

“Exactly what you’re thinking.”

Flesh, blood, bones, meticulously crushed and scattered in every corner of the Ying residence.

Such a cruel, inhuman method, inflicted on a child barely five years old.

For a moment, neither spoke.

He Qingsheng asked, “Does Ying Hongfeng have any enemies in the Ying residence?”

“I’ll investigate.” Perhaps too shaken, Ying Qujie didn’t bother hiding from He Qingsheng. He tapped the windowsill in an odd rhythm, and a pitch-black bird flew in from outside.

Ying Qujie muttered something unintelligible, and the bird nodded almost humanly before flapping its wings and flying out of the Ying residence.

The two lost interest in conversation, and the room fell silent.

…

Late at night.

While Ying Qujie slept soundly, He Qingsheng took the little ghost Ying Wen out of the courtyard.

Guided by Ying Wen, she dug out half of his spine.

The moment Ying Wen saw the bone, his resentment surged violently.

He Qingsheng didn’t stop him.

If unborn infants were the easiest to turn into vengeful spirits, then children of four or five were the hardest. The former resented never seeing the world, while the latter, dying young, often knew too little of life to harbor resentment.

Ying Wen had no memories yet was filled with hatred, proof of the unspeakable torment he must have endured before death.

“Ying Wen, remember this feeling. You must hate, and never stop.”

He Qingsheng patted his head, sending a wisp of baleful energy to keep his mind clear.

“Now I’ve given you the means to protect yourself. Stay here and watch for something for me.”

Her voice was gentle. “I’ll help you get your revenge.”

She would repay every grievance tooth for tooth, eye for eye, until the sinners paid their debts in blood.

She caressed that segment of spine, committing the familiar incantations upon it to memory.

He Qingsheng’s eyes burned crimson as she spat out the words through clenched teeth, Zhenyuan Sect!

…

The old madam’s homecoming banquet was in full swing.

The chosen day was clear and bright, without a cloud in the sky.

Court officials, whether acquainted with General Ying or not, all brought their families to attend with pleasure.

Of course, most came for the spectacle.

After all, every court official had their own sources of information and knew the Ying household had recently held a funeral.

Each was a shrewd observer, eager to meet the Ying family’s eldest son.

General Ying and Madam Su were stationed by the old madam at the front hall to receive guests. The general endured several veiled taunts from rival colleagues, nearly storming off multiple times before Madam Su stopped him.

“Madam Zhang, you jest. The delay in our eldest son’s return led to some minor misunderstandings between the general and me regarding the news we received. Today’s banquet is in his honor, and we thank all the lords and ladies for gracing us with your presence.”

“Word has it the old madam herself arranged this. What a privilege for us.”

Another official’s wife chimed in, “The old madam has lived in seclusion for years. For her to emerge now, she must be exceedingly pleased with your eldest son.”

“I recall Young General Ying will soon celebrate his coming-of-age ceremony. We’ll likely attend several more of your banquets in the coming days, what a treat for the eyes.”

“Naturally.”

Madam Su’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. The words of officials’ wives were like velvet daggers, every interaction required caution to avoid giving them ammunition. Never before had she made such a glaring misstep, leaving herself open to ridicule.

Madam Su made no attempt to hide her barbs, subtly smearing Ying Qujie’s name before the guests.

A few wives particularly close to Madam Su even began to believe Ying Qujie was some unfilial rogue. Word spread, and soon his reputation was colored by these preconceived notions.

“She actually said that?” The old madam’s face darkened as she listened to Su Lan’s report, slapping the table in anger.

“Don’t be upset, madam. This works in our favor,” Su Lan added. “The eldest son’s bearing and reputation as a divine physician will stun everyone when he appears. Why not…”

The old madam pondered, then nodded. “Proceed as you suggest.”

“If Grandmother wants me to wait here, then I shall.” Ying Qujie lifted his teacup, taking a leisurely sip.

He Qingsheng excitedly summarized the brewing storm in the front hall, only to find Ying Qujie utterly unfazed.

Frustrated, she said, “Your stepmother’s poisoning everyone against you. What if she arranges for some girl to trap you into marriage during the banquet?”

Ying Qujie raised an eyebrow. “Where did you pick up such absurd ideas?”

“From… storybooks. They’re full of plots like this.”

Though such schemes usually appeared in tales of women’s inner-household strife, witnessing the front hall’s hypocrisy made He Qingsheng feel Ying Qujie was practically the male version of a harem drama protagonist.

His mother died young, his father showed no affection, he had a favored younger brother, and he’d spent years away, only returning now, just before his coming-of-age ceremony to fulfill some grand narrative.

Then, through this ceremony, he’d rise to fame, catching the attention of some mysterious figure who lounged in trees and declared, “Man, you’ve piqued my interest.”

Even his identity as a physician fit the trope perfectly.

What a damned, delightful coincidence.

He Qingsheng couldn’t control her thoughts, and her gaze toward Ying Qujie softened with affection.

“I’ll be careful. You don’t need to worry,” Ying Qujie said, rubbing his temples. He had no idea what the female ghost was thinking, but his instincts told him it was nothing good.

“I’m not worried.”

“Oh? Then cut back on reading those romance novels.”

“None of your business.”

“Where’s Ying Wen?” Ying Qujie decided to change the subject.

Lately, He Qingsheng had been wandering off unpredictably. The original wooden puppet was half-broken, and since she refused to stay in it, tracking her movements had become even harder.

Ying Qujie took the opportunity to practice his carving skills and made a few new puppets. He’d give them to her after the banquet.

At least with a medium to interact with the outside world, the female ghost might behave a little better.

“I had him run an errand for me.”