Please, Don’t Die - Chapter 44

Not a single divination slip in the cylinder foretold good fortune.

He Qingsheng quietly replaced all the slips. Satisfied with the cylinder now filled with only the most auspicious omens, she placed it back in its original position.

In the front hall, the capping ceremony proceeded step by step.

After Ying Qujie had toasted General Ying and the matriarch, Chancellor Chu, acting as the honored guest alongside Lady Han Yu, led Ying Qujie to pay respects before the memorial tablet of Lady Ling Yu.

Following the ceremonial capping, the young man was to bow to his mother.

By convention, Lady Su, now the mistress of the general’s household, was nominally Ying Qujie’s mother and should have participated in the ceremony.

Yet the brilliance of the matriarch’s arrangements lay in her choice of Chancellor Chu as the principal officiant for the coming-of-age ceremony. Chancellor Chu’s wife, Lady Han Yu, was the elder sister of Ying Qujie’s birth mother, Lady Ling Yu.

Outsiders could hardly discern the truth behind the rumors of discord between the sisters.

But Lady Su knew all too well, because of Ling Yu’s death, she had truly earned Han Yu’s enmity. Naturally, it would be awkward for her to receive Ying Qujie’s ceremonial bow as his mother during the capping ritual.

The small puppet, hidden by He Qingsheng in a corner, floated beside Ying Qujie, watching as he drew a divination slip.

“Three supremely auspicious omens, Physician Ying. Your future is smooth sailing,” He Qingsheng said with a smile, pointing at the slips.

Ying Qujie met her gaze briefly before handing the slip to Chancellor Chu. “Your Excellency, my lady, your esteemed presence at this humble one’s capping ceremony is an honor beyond measure…”

The ceremonial words were much the same as usual, but Ying Qujie’s dignified bearing lent them an air of sincerity and grace.

He Qingsheng drifted among the crowd, taking in the emotion in Lady Han Yu’s eyes, and not missing the fleeting malice in Lady Su’s gaze.

Congratulatory praises and interpretations of the divination slips filled the air.

Lady Su twisted her handkerchief tightly but made no other move, her gaze fixed intently on the scene.

Following her line of sight, He Qingsheng saw Lady Han Yu retrieve an ornate box from the table, an heirloom of Ling Yu.

Lady Han Yu opened the box using a specific symbol, but after barely glancing at the note inside, she swiftly tucked it into her sleeve and said gently to Ying Qujie:

“My dear child, ‘Qujie’ signifies the passing of calamities, and ‘Lin’an’ means peace is near. Your mother named you ‘Lin’an,’ wishing you a lifetime of tranquility.”

“Lin’an thanks the Chancellor and my lady,” Ying Qujie replied with a bow, and the ceremony continued.

Lady Han Yu’s actions were swift. Only He Qingsheng caught a glimpse of the true eight-character prophecy on the note, Calamities remain, peace is yet to come.

It was no auspicious omen, and whether it was truly left by Ling Yu remained unverified.

Moreover, He Qingsheng recognized the invisible curse script on it, a spell imperceptible to mortals.

In essence, it was a curse.

It wouldn’t alter the victim’s fate but could bring misfortune for days or months.

A petty trick often used by novice cultivators of the Twelve Walls sect.

Fortunately, Lady Han Yu improvised deftly, avoiding the original text and interpreting the name “Lin’an” with grace.

A wisp of baleful energy consumed the note.

The replaced divination slips, the drugged toast, the mended ceremonial robes, the filled-in pits…

He Qingsheng tallied them, none of the “surprises” Lady Su had prepared for the capping ceremony had succeeded. She truly had outdone herself.

Just as Lady Su, seething with frustration, was about to disrupt the proceedings, a flash of blue light sealed her voice.

Horrified, Lady Su found herself stripped of control over her body, forced to stand motionless as a mere backdrop. A chilling wind whispered in her ears, and cold sweat broke out in waves.

He Qingsheng pinched Lady Su’s chin, forcing her face toward the memorial tablet of Lady Ling Yu.

Lady Su couldn’t see He Qingsheng, only feeling an invisible force controlling her. The next moment, her gaze locked onto the characters “Ling Yu.”

Unable to scream or flee, she was so terrified that tears and snot streamed down her face, convinced that Ling Yu’s spirit had returned and uncovered her schemes. She nearly dropped to her knees on the spot, her arrogance vanishing instantly as her eyes turned meek and fearful.

He Qingsheng was quite satisfied with Lady Su’s reaction.

Ying Qujie coughed lightly and shot a glance at He Qingsheng.

Only then did she release her grip and drift back to his side, patting his shoulder reassuringly.

“Physician Ying, you’d never guess, I made a decisive contribution to preventing you from getting dragged into a harem drama.”

Truly, this poor, unloved child, without her, he wouldn’t stand a chance.

Ying Qujie, the delicate white flower and Cinderella of the household, was utterly baffled by He Qingsheng’s pitying gaze.

But with so many people around, he couldn’t ask.

Finally, once the capping ceremony concluded, an imperial decree summoning Ying Qujie to the palace arrived.

The crowd knelt in reverence to receive the edict, their hearts abuzz with shock.

Since the late emperor abolished the tradition of paying respects to the sovereign after the capping ceremony, no noble or official family in Great Su Dynasty had ever received such an honor.

Though Ying Qujie held no official position in court, no one dared to look down on the eldest son of the Ying household anymore.

Zhuang Zhixing knelt among the crowd, immensely relieved he hadn’t completely offended Ying Qujie.

Just as he was feeling smug, amid the chorus of “Gratitude for His Majesty’s grace,” two icy slaps seemed to strike his face, leaving a stinging pain.

Zhuang Zhixing jolted in shock, suddenly recalling that eerie wooden puppet. Trembling, he tore the note Ying Hongfeng had given him into shreds.

…

Only after boarding the carriage upon receiving the decree did Ying Qujie finally get a moment of respite.

The little wooden doll, now dressed in finely carved clothes, had somehow hidden itself in his sleeve, solid and reassuringly heavy.

His eyelids drooped as the carriage moved steadily, the curtains swaying, occasionally letting in a sliver of light that made him drowsy. His thoughts grew sluggish.

He had been on the move these past few days. The custom jewelry he had ordered earlier should be ready by now.

Holding the doll in his palm, Ying Qujie frowned slightly, his earlier craftsmanship had been far too crude.

“Why the frown, Physician Ying?”

Ying Qujie hesitated, swallowing back the word “nothing,” and instead said, “We still have some time before reaching the palace. Come out for a while.”

He Qingsheng chuckled. “What’s the matter? Suddenly realized how stunning this ghostly lady is?”

Her tone was teasing, but Ying Qujie neither blushed nor took offense. He simply smiled gently. “Just come out.”

A chill drew near.

He Qingsheng leaned in close. “Oh no, Physician Ying, you’ve improved. You’re not as easily flustered anymore.”

“Is that so? I have you to thank for that.” Ying Qujie gazed directly at her, his expression earnest and focused. Though he made no other movement, it was as if he were measuring her inch by inch.

He Qingsheng thought Ying Qujie must be drunk, how else could he say “Indeed, you are beautiful” without batting an eye?

She abruptly straightened, avoiding his gaze, and muttered, “You drunkard. Don’t say the wrong thing in front of the emperor later.”

Ying Qujie laughed softly.

The scant sips of wine during the ceremony weren’t enough to intoxicate him, he didn’t even need his sobering pills.

The carriage rocked gently, the curtains fluttering.

He Qingsheng pressed a hand against the window, changing the subject. “Rest for a bit. You’ll need to be sharp once we reach the palace.”

The excuse wasn’t entirely unconvincing.

Ever since their nighttime investigation at the Imperial Preceptor’s residence a few days ago, Ying Qujie had been following her through case-solving, descending into secret tunnels, entering illusions, and now attending the coming-of-age ceremony, hardly stopping for a moment. Over these days, he hadn’t had the chance to get a proper night’s sleep.

He Qingsheng thought back to when she had chased after her junior disciple Yu Fu but failed to enter the imperial palace.

The magical artifacts she had taken from the Imperial Preceptor’s residence were originally prepared for stepping into the forbidden depths of the palace. Now, having absorbed ample spiritual energy in the illusion, she knew she would have to make this trip sooner or later.

With Ying Qujie suddenly summoned to the palace, it only accelerated her plans.

This journey was no simple matter either, Ying Qujie really needed to stay sharp.

Watching him doze lightly against the carriage, his long, thick lashes trembling like the wings of a vigilant butterfly, she could tell his rest was uneasy.

For once, He Qingsheng felt a twinge of guilt.

The vermilion palace walls came into view.

The barrier of imperial aura did not block them.

He Qingsheng exhaled softly. Her instincts told her that the closer they got to the palace, the closer they were to uncovering Yu Fu’s secrets, whether it was the life-exchange ritual or the spirit realm.

…

“Divine Physician Ying, we’ve arrived.” The voice of a young eunuch sounded from outside.

He Qingsheng retracted her aquatic wood essence, shrinking back into the wooden puppet, and gently roused Ying Qujie.

The winding corridors were solemn and imposing.

Ying Qujie followed the eunuch for a long stretch until they arrived at a palace hall, not the Xuan Chamber where the emperor received his ministers, but the empress’s quarters.

He Qingsheng stole a glance at the emperor of Great Su Dynasty. His brows were wreathed in purple aura, a sign of heavenly recognition as the rightful ruler. His gaze was sharp and clear, devoid of any sinister air.

After Ying Qujie bowed with neither humility nor arrogance, the empress beckoned him closer.

On the sickbed, Prince Liang lay pale and weak, his breath faint.

“If not for the Imperial Preceptor’s report, His Majesty and I would have remained in the dark about this foolish child’s condition,” the empress said tearfully, stroking Prince Liang’s cheek with maternal affection. “Divine Physician Ying, thank you for extending my son’s life.”

Extending his life, the empress’s words carried heavy weight.

“Your Majesty flatters me,” Ying Qujie replied, not claiming the credit. “To fully cure His Highness’s condition, he must recuperate at Tianyu Mountain for a complete recovery.”

“Yes, the Imperial Preceptor has already informed me,” the empress said, pausing briefly. “But today, I summoned you not for this matter.”

She briefly recounted her past friendship with Ling Yu, who had once gifted her an immortal elixir. However, as the empress and emperor shared a deep bond and the emperor believed in the Daoist principle of natural harmony, they had never intended to use it.

Ling Yu had then entrusted the empress to pass the elixir to Ying Qujie during his coming-of-age ceremony.

“Today, I should have returned this elixir to you,” the empress continued. “But the journey to Tianyu Mountain is long, and I cannot bear to see my son in such a state…”

An immortal elixir, if nothing else, would at least strengthen the body and prolong life.

Perhaps out of genuine maternal concern, the empress made no attempt to veil her request, she wanted the elixir for her son.

“If my mother originally gifted it to Your Majesty, then it is naturally yours to use,” Ying Qujie replied without hesitation.

Tianyu Mountain was remote, and if they delayed, heavy snow might block the roads. If Prince Liang’s condition could be sustained by the elixir, it would indeed provide some security.

Grateful, the empress repeatedly thanked him, then retrieved the elixir box and fed it to Prince Liang in Ying Qujie’s presence.

The emperor watched nervously as the prince swallowed the pill, his concern undisguised. Only when Prince Liang’s breathing steadied did he finally relax, as if a weight had been lifted.

He Qingsheng recognized the pill at a glance, it was a Foundation Establishment Pill.

If an ordinary mortal possessed the spiritual roots for cultivation, they wouldn’t need to arduously comprehend the workings of heaven and earth, a single Foundation Establishment Pill could set them on the path to immortality. Even without such roots, one pill could cleanse the marrow and tendons, extending one’s lifespan.

To common mortals, it was indeed an elixir of the gods.

Yet within the Twelve Walls, the Foundation Establishment Pill was something of a white elephant, neither particularly useful nor easy to obtain.

This heaven-defying pill, which cheated fate itself, required rare materials unique to the Twelve Walls and was difficult to refine, serving more as a display of alchemical mastery than a practical necessity.

However, the major sects of the Twelve Walls had no shortage of cultivators capable of refining such pills, while the disciples who truly needed them rarely gained entry into these prestigious institutions.

Thus, in truth, very few Foundation Establishment Pills circulated within the Twelve Walls.

The Empress mentioned that someone had once gifted Ling Yu a Foundation Establishment Pill.

Calculating the timeline, it meant that at least twenty years ago, a breach had already appeared in the Spirit Realm.

Suppressing her doubts, He Qingsheng turned to Ying Qujie and said, “I’ll take a stroll around the palace. Don’t wait for me.”