Please, Don’t Die - Chapter 28

Ying Wen was tightly bound by swirling red and black miasma, his mouth emitting low, guttural growls.

Ying Qujie stood to the side, urging He Qingsheng not to hit the child. The chaotic scene, like a chicken flapping and a dog jumping, resembled a strict mother and doting father disciplining their child.

Under questioning, Ying Qujie learned that after he had left earlier, Ying Wen had tried to follow him but was restrained the moment he stepped outside.

Ying Wen said he was too hungry and didn’t know where to go, so he decided to squat by the door and wait for Ying Qujie to return with offerings.

But when he saw Ying Qujie again, his hunger magnified endlessly, driving him into a ravenous frenzy. He lost all reason and couldn’t stop himself from trying to bite Ying Qujie.

If He Qingsheng hadn’t grabbed him in time, Ying Qujie would likely be severely injured and unconscious by now.

Thankfully, she hadn’t stayed at the Imperial Preceptor’s place tonight.

“You little rascal, no wonder I couldn’t find you when I came back!” He Qingsheng pinched Ying Wen’s cheek and dispelled the miasma clinging to him.

Ying Wen pouted. “Sister, I didn’t mean to hide from you.”

“Mm, I know. I’m not blaming you for that.” Ghosts affected by malevolent energy lose their senses, they attack people, but they also instinctively avoid stronger presences.

She hadn’t noticed anything unusual earlier, and calling for Ying Wen the usual way had indeed failed to find him.

“But you disobeyed me and ate those people’s offerings again. That deserves punishment.” He Qingsheng took Ying Wen’s small hand and gave it a light smack. “If I hadn’t returned in time, you really would’ve taken a bite out of your uncle.”

“Sorry, Uncle.” Ying Wen obediently apologized to Ying Qujie, then turned back to He Qingsheng with repeated promises.

His sweet, syrupy “Sister” this and “Sister” that made the twenty-year-old Ying Qujie and the five-hundred-year-old He Qingsheng sound like they were from different generations.

It was unbearably awkward.

Ying Qujie cut off Ying Wen’s flattery and motioned for He Qingsheng to bring him over.

He had taken some food from the old madam’s kitchen and laid it out on the table. Then he pulled out a bundle of incense from his sleeve, lit it, and stuck it into the rice.

The sandalwood smoke curled upward.

Ying Qujie hadn’t taken much, but the selection was varied.

The stir-fried spinach on the table was fresh and vibrant, the hairy crabs plump with rich roe. Even the radishes stewed in the lamb soup were translucent, as if saturated with savory richness, one could only imagine how tender and juicy they’d be with a single bite, let alone the melt-in-your-mouth lamb.

Just watching Ying Wen eat with such gusto was proof enough of the old madam’s exceptional culinary skills.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Ying Qujie had brought enough food for two, but He Qingsheng just stood there without moving. “If you’re not interested in these dishes, try this instead.”

Following his gesture, He Qingsheng noticed a plate of sugar-roasted chestnuts beside the dishes, their shells glossy and the flesh golden.

She sniffed but shook her head. “What a shame. I can’t eat it.”

“Why not? Ying Wen can.” Ying Qujie glanced at the boy happily devouring his meal, utterly confused.

He Qingsheng: “I don’t know either.”

For a ghost, He Qingsheng was truly unusual, her mind was clear, she wasn’t bound to any place, and she didn’t consume offerings.

In a way, she didn’t even belong to the cycle of reincarnation.

“What’s with that look? Pitying me?” He Qingsheng chuckled and playfully flicked Ying Qujie’s hair, then adopted an exaggeratedly coquettish tone:

“Oh dear, when you think about it, I really am quite pitiful. Physician, won’t you let me admire your handsome face to ease my tragic sorrows?”

Ying Qujie: “…” Couldn’t be bothered to reply.

He walked to the side and opened an exquisitely crafted mother-of-pearl box lined with soft silk, inside which lay two small wooden puppets.

One puppet had only a skeletal human frame, its finger joints densely articulated and nimble, while the other came pre-dressed in elaborate attire, its clothing meticulously detailed.

Neither puppet’s face was carved with the utmost precision, but both bore a clear resemblance to He Qingsheng.

“For me?”

“Mm.” Ying Qujie added, “They’re not very refined yet. Try them out first.”

“They look just like Sister! Uncle, I want one too, I want one too!” Ying Wen scurried over.

“Go finish your meal. The incense will fade soon, don’t waste it.” Ying Qujie dismissed Ying Wen, treating “don’t waste the incense” as casually as “don’t waste food.”

The little ghost reluctantly returned to the table, though his eyes kept darting back toward them.

He Qingsheng first tried the puppet with clothing. The sleeves were beautifully carved, but the garments covered the joints, making movement less fluid than the skeletal puppet’s, and it was also heavier.

Ying Qujie: “Which one do you prefer?”

He Qingsheng hesitated, feeling she ought to observe some social niceties.

“Since Physician Ying gave them to me, of course I like both.”

Ying Wen excitedly raised his hand nearby: “Uncle, when people say that, it usually means they don’t like either. Since Sister doesn’t like them, why don’t you carve her a new one and give these two to me?”

“Hey, don’t talk nonsense, you little brat.” He Qingsheng shot Ying Wen a glare before pointing at the skeletal puppet and saying to Ying Qujie, “This one, I prefer this one.”

Watching their antics, Ying Qujie smiled helplessly. Both puppets were meant for her anyway. He had asked which one she liked to get a clearer direction, intending to refine and carve another.

He Qingsheng merged into the skeletal puppet, standing on the table and testing its limbs.

As Ying Qujie watched her movements, he felt something was still missing.

He Qingsheng adapted quickly to maneuvering the puppet, and the joints Ying Qujie had crafted were exceptionally flexible.

It was quite fun.

She twisted left and right, feeling as if she were playing with a modern Barbie doll.

Ah! clothes!

“Right, clothes.” Ying Qujie suddenly spoke up, realizing what was missing.

He would need to prepare some small outfits. Clothes of this size certainly wouldn’t be sold in markets, it seemed he’d have to sew them himself.

The tailoring probably wouldn’t be too difficult.

Ying Qujie: “What color do you want for the clothes? Moon-white?”

He Qingsheng glanced down at the white robes her soul was wearing, the hem still stained with blood.

This was actually the “uniform” Fuliu sect had adopted in imitation of the First Great Sect. She hadn’t had time to change after leaving seclusion before beginning her life on the run.

He Qingsheng wasn’t particularly fond of white.

“Not white.”

She thought for a moment, scanning her surroundings before her gaze settled on Ying Qujie. Inspiration struck: “The same watery green as what you’re wearing.”

“Alright.”

The idea of dressing the skeletal puppet now felt a little odd, so He Qingsheng hopped into the other puppet, the one with pre-carved clothing.

With a physical medium, He Qingsheng felt grounded, no longer adrift in the mortal world.

In high spirits, she swaggered over to Ying Wen, putting on an exaggerated show.

How childish.

Under Ying Wen’s resentful stare, Ying Qujie explained, “Both of these are for your sister.”

“Uncle, I’m angry.” Ying Wen accused, “This is favoritism!”

What a choice of words.

Ying Qujie pointed at the little puppet and chuckled helplessly, “This is all your sister’s doing.”

Ying Wen watched as He Qingsheng spun around in front of him, pouting, “Hmph, I don’t care.”

“Alright, fine. I’ll carve one that looks just like you later,” Ying Qujie picked up the still-smug He Qingsheng and placed her in his hand. “And you, settle down a bit.”

“That’s more like it,” Ying Wen beamed with joy.

…

After seeing Ying Wen off, the room fell silent once more.

Ying Qujie: “Why did you suddenly come back tonight?”

He Qingsheng: “If I hadn’t come back, wouldn’t you have been in trouble? This just shows we’re on the same wavelength!”

No matter what Ying Qujie asked afterward, He Qingsheng managed to dodge the questions.

“Full of nonsense.”

“Of course, ghosts are full of nonsense,” He Qingsheng said, not ashamed but rather proud. “But if you don’t sleep soon, it’ll be dawn.”

Ying Qujie lay back down on the bed.

For a moment, both of them were lost in their own thoughts.

The night passed without dreams.

Early the next morning, as soon as Ying Qujie woke up, he saw the little puppet climbing out the window.

Ying Qujie: “…”

She could have just used the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Oh, you’re awake. I’m heading to the Imperial Preceptor’s residence,” her voice trailed off in the wind.

Still groggy, Ying Qujie stood by the window and noticed a note left by He Qingsheng on the sill.

It was clearly a notice of her departure.

Oh, wonderful. Using the puppet he gave her to run off to the Imperial Preceptor’s place.

Ying Qujie sneered, tossed the note onto the table, and went to wash up before heading out.

For several days in a row, He Qingsheng was nowhere to be seen during the day.

Only at night would she return, climbing through the window under the moonlight.

The wear and tear on the puppet’s body might as well have been emblazoned with the words, “I’ve been out causing trouble.”

Moreover, the Imperial Preceptor’s residence had sent over various toys and supplies multiple times, among which were even items and paintings from Prince Liang.

Even the elderly lady had asked him several times why the Imperial Preceptor and Prince Liang were sending these things.

Oddly shaped sugar figurines, scandalous storybooks, dolls dressed in bizarre clothing, though each had its own charm, they could easily be custom-ordered at the market.

If He Qingsheng liked these things, she could have just told him directly.

Why involve the Imperial Preceptor?

Sending them was one thing, but He Qingsheng completely ignored them, leaving Ying Qujie to sort everything out dutifully.

Finally, one morning, Ying Qujie had had enough.

“Are you going to see the Imperial Preceptor again today?”

“Yeah,” He Qingsheng looked at Ying Qujie, who stood with his arms crossed, and asked, puzzled, “What’s wrong?”

Ying Qujie: “Wait a moment. I need to see the Imperial Preceptor about something. I’ll go with you.”

He Qingsheng: “Huh? Then maybe I won’t go.”

Ying Qujie: “?”

Taking a deep breath, Ying Qujie pulled out a small outfit from the box, dressed the skeletal puppet in it, and handed it to He Qingsheng.

He decided not to adorn the outfit with gemstones after all.

Never mind.

“Since you’re not going to the Imperial Preceptor’s residence today, come with me to pick out some accessories for the outfit.”

“Didn’t you say you needed to see the Imperial Preceptor?”

Ying Qujie gave her a long look: “Not anymore.”

Under his gaze, He Qingsheng felt a pang of guilt and rubbed her nose. “Oh.”

She looked at the skeletal puppet dressed in a pale green outfit, the patterns meticulously scaled down, the embroidery exquisite. She wanted to say that accessories weren’t really necessary.

But judging by the serious expression on Ying Qujie’s face when he presented the puppet, she suddenly realized this was his version of playing a dress-up game.

If you put it that way, the lack of accessories really could trigger someone’s OCD.

He Qingsheng agreed to Ying Qujie’s suggestion.

The marketplace bustled with activity, crowded with people and bustling with traffic.

Ying Qujie placed the little wooden puppet on his shoulder, a convenient spot where He Qingsheng’s words could easily reach his ear.

Yet neither of them spoke, the atmosphere between them so tense it could almost be described as stagnant.