Please, Don’t Die - Chapter 46

He Qingsheng tumbled a full circle on the ground before steadying herself.

Purple qi swirled along the palace walls, barring her from advancing any further. Turning around, she gazed into the distance, sinister energy scattered like ribbons, drifting into the ordinary streets and homes.

Judging by the density of that dark aura, the capital was on the brink of upheaval.

The carriage waiting at the palace gate had just begun to move. Through the lifted curtain, He Qingsheng caught a fleeting glimpse of Ying Qujie’s face. He looked back for a while, only lowering the curtain when the red walls had completely vanished from sight.

He Qingsheng did not chase after the carriage. Instead, she turned and sped straight toward the Tianqi Tower.

Along the way, she passed by homes where some were already plagued by vicious, malevolent spirits. Evil entities seized the opportunity to wreak havoc, inciting terrified screams from the common folk.

A child wailed in fright, while neighbors, oblivious to the cause, shouted curses in frustration. The scene was chaotic and deafening.

He Qingsheng spared only a brief glance downward, casting a wisp of baleful qi to shield the child from the encroaching evil before darting away. She did not pause for even a moment, no matter how desperate the cries.

The underground palace beneath the Tianqi Tower had collapsed, and the surrounding land had sunk unevenly. Compared to before, the guards here were far more numerous, layers upon layers, sealing off the tower completely.

This had to be Yan Xingyi’s doing.

From the outside, they blocked the cultivators; from within, they obstructed Emperor Zhao Wu’s Mianrihui. The palace servants had arranged everything meticulously. The so-called “mantis trying to stop a chariot” that Yu Fu had mentioned, Yan Xingyi’s actions suggested he was far from the incompetent, unreliable figure he appeared to be.

Delving into these intricacies could wait. Right now, she was desperate to verify whether the passage at the top of the Tianqi Tower, the one Yu Fu claimed led back to the Twelve Walls, was real.

She tossed aside a small wooden puppet, concealed her aura, and floated toward the tower’s summit.

Sure enough, amidst a coiled mass of turquoise snakes, an uneven breach leaked faint spiritual energy.

A deafening roar erupted as a ferocious beast leaped out from the breach. Before it could land, the snakes, like viscous slime, extended unsettling turquoise tendrils, striking straight at the beast’s neck.

Without hesitation, it was a single, lethal blow.

The beast’s massive body crashed to the ground. The snakes scattered briefly before swarming over the corpse once more. Twisting and writhing, the serpentine tide left behind only sparse traces of blood, the enormous beast had been utterly consumed, bones and all.

He Qingsheng didn’t have to wait long before witnessing the snakes devour several more beasts from the Twelve Walls.

This was undoubtedly a breach in the spirit realm.

The turquoise snakes were avatars of Lan Shanqing. Yu Fu knew Lan Shanqing couldn’t stop her, which was why he dared to reveal the existence of this breach.

Right now, Lan Shanqing’s true form was in the palace, this was He Qingsheng’s best chance to slay her avatars and return to the Twelve Walls.

But as she observed the number and rank of the beasts emerging from the spirit realm, doubts swirled in her mind.

The snakes devoured the low-tier, mindless beasts but left the high-tier, intelligent ones untouched. Yet, the Twelve Walls had no shortage of low-tier beasts, while the high-tier ones could command them.

Without Lan Shanqing standing guard, even a single high-tier beast could flatten half the capital.

Yu Fu had implied that her vengeance against the Zhenyuan Sect and the turmoil in the mortal realm were two entirely separate matters. To him, the Zhenyuan Sect was worthless, and killing Liang Qiuji seemed like a trivial affair.

But the Zhenyuan Sect’s talismans appearing in the mortal realm were no illusion. If the Zhenyuan Sect wasn’t the mastermind behind this, then whose “chariot” was the “mantis” trying to stop? If she wasn’t supposed to interfere, whose affairs had she meddled in?

He Qingsheng’s expression darkened. Against her will, her thoughts turned to Emperor Zhao Wu and the golden-robed man in the imperial gardens.

The ethereal gate of the spirit realm stood silently before her, and He Qingsheng felt as though she could glimpse the windswept petals and frost-laden landscapes of the Twelve Walls through its shimmering surface.

Should she enter?

To step through would mean returning to the Twelve Walls, to kill Liang Qiuji, to slaughter the Zhenyuan Sect, to begin everything anew from that origin.

Should she go back?

To return would mean leaving behind the trivialities of the mortal world, no longer scheming to lure enemies, no longer inviting unnecessary complications.

She hovered soundlessly in the void, so still she might as well have already faded from existence.

…

After Prince Liang’s condition stabilized, Ying Qujie prepared a restorative prescription at the Imperial Hospital, enough to sustain him until his journey to Mount Tianyu.

The Emperor and Empress were overwhelmed with gratitude, showering the Ying residence with endless rewards.

By the time Ying Qujie left the palace, the sun had already begun its descent, staining the sky a deep crimson, its fading light pure and clear.

Though He Qingsheng had told him not to wait, Ying Qujie’s carriage lingered at the palace gates for a long while, after all, the route home would pass this way regardless.

He lifted the carriage curtain more times than he could count. The palace guards changed shifts, and the sky darkened steadily.

A commotion arose outside the carriage as a servant from the Ying residence hurried over, urging him to return home, something had happened, and the Old Madam had been frightened.

He Qingsheng still hadn’t appeared. With a flick of his sleeve, Ying Qujie signaled for the carriage to depart. The driver gave a sharp shout, and the rhythmic clatter of hooves quickened.

Ying Qujie raised his arm slightly, his sleeve swaying gracefully with the motion. He pressed a hand to his forehead and let out a quiet, resigned laugh.

The Great Su Dynasty did not prohibit night markets, and the air was alive with the sounds of strings and flutes, the shouts of food vendors, the clamor of the bustling main streets. The carriage moved swiftly, jostling enough to make even resting one’s eyes an uneasy endeavor.

The more urgent one’s business, the more likely they were to encounter interruptions.

A squad of imperial guards was clearing the crowd, sealing off a remote shop. Ying Qujie’s carriage was briefly halted as they passed, so he disembarked and continued the rest of the way on foot.

By this hour, the guests from the coming-of-age ceremony had long since dispersed. When Ying Qujie entered the residence, he noticed the absence of guards and servants, lending the estate an abrupt, eerie stillness.

Something was amiss.

He hurried toward the Old Madam’s courtyard, only to find the entire household gathered in the garden.

Servants armed with long staves and spears formed concentric rings of encirclement.

Ying Yuanqi and Ying Hongfeng stood in the inner circle, seemingly attempting to reason with someone, while General Ying and Lady Su watched from a distance.

As Ying Qujie approached, he realized the servants were holding their weapons backward, unable to release the woman trapped within, yet unwilling to harm her.

Her eyes were unfocused, her expression deranged as she brandished a sharp sword wildly, straining to break through any gap in the defenses.

Perched on her shoulders, grinning maliciously as he covered her eyes with his hands, was none other than Ying Wen.

This was not the obedient, gentle Ying Wen of usual. Ying Qujie could clearly see the violent surge of malice in him, the undisguised murderous intent in his gaze, all directed squarely at Ying Yuanqi.

In the blink of an eye, the woman feinted toward Lady Su, then abruptly twisted and hurled her sword straight at Ying Yuanqi’s face.

Ying Hongfeng reacted swiftly, yanking Ying Yuanqi aside. The blade whistled past, grazing only his cheek and ear, leaving behind a vicious streak of blood.

“Qi’er!” Lady Su’s eyes nearly burst from their sockets. “How dare she harm my son! Guards, kill her! Why are you still holding back? Strike her down!”

General Ying remained silent, tacitly approving Lady Su’s command. Ying Yuanqi, clutching his bleeding wound in shock, retreated from the inner circle without a word.

The guards exchanged uneasy glances. Those wielding long sticks stepped forward protectively, while those with spears took a synchronized step back, leveling their sharpened tips toward the woman at the center of the encirclement.

The woman had already dropped her sword. With just a bit of force, the deadly spears could easily pierce her body and end her life.

Ying Hongfeng’s face paled instantly. “No!”

“General, Madam, I beg you, Taotao didn’t mean to harm anyone! Please show mercy!”

“Hongfeng, you’re still young. You can always take another concubine or remarry,” Lady Su said dismissively, her attention fixed on Ying Yuanqi’s injury. Though she couldn’t outright dismiss Ying Hongfeng, who had served her faithfully for years, her tone made it clear she saw no reason for leniency.

After all, men were fickle creatures, always chasing the new and discarding the old.

She was just a servant.

But when Ying Hongfeng saw no room for negotiation, he gritted his teeth and rushed to the woman’s side, shielding her with outstretched arms as he stood firm against Lady Su. “Madam, the ledgers from the shops haven’t been reported to you yet. The detailed accounts are still at my home. You’ll have to retrieve them yourself.”

Was he threatening her?

Lady Su scoffed. “Hongfeng, the general’s manor has treated you well all these years. Even if you have talent in management, you’re not irreplaceable.”

“Hongfeng, don’t disappoint me.”

Ying Hongfeng was prepared to fight to the bitter end, but Lady Su’s words carried a warning of her own.

“I beg you, Madam, and General, spare Taotao’s life. I’ll repay your kindness with a lifetime of servitude.” Ying Hongfeng’s fists clenched tightly, but his back remained straight, unwavering as he shielded the woman.

“Cousin, why go to such lengths?” Ying Yuanqi hissed through gritted teeth, his earlier righteous solidarity with Ying Hongfeng now entirely absent.

“Look out!” Ying Qujie lunged forward like a blade of wind, his figure flashing through the air before pinning the knife-wielding woman to the ground.

With a clang, the cleaver fell.

Cold sweat beaded on Ying Hongfeng’s forehead. Had Ying Qujie been even a second slower, his own wife would have slit his throat.

The woman thrashed wildly on the ground, clawing and scratching. Even after Ying Qujie knocked her unconscious, her limbs still twitched under Ying Wen’s control, her strength unnatural.

Up close, Ying Qujie could hear Ying Wen’s murmurs clearly:

“Kill Father… kill Father…”

A wave of sinister energy surged from Ying Wen, crashing toward Ying Qujie’s face, only to be devoured by an even more ferocious force.

Sensing imminent danger, the red bracelet on his wrist flashed. A dark crimson aura erupted violently, its clawed tendrils snatching the little ghost from the woman’s back and binding it into a writhing mass in an instant.

Ying Wen shrieked in agony as the malevolent energy tore into him.

This was no playful tussle like before, when He Qingsheng was present. Perhaps provoked by the attack, the aura from the bracelet was now intent on destroying Ying Wen completely.

Ying Qujie remembered He Qingsheng’s warning, ghosts devoured by her would never reincarnate.

Panicked, he pressed his hand against the bracelet. “Stop! Don’t hurt Ying Wen, I’m fine! Leave him be!”

“What do you mean, Ying Wen? Eldest Young Master, what are you talking about?” Ying Hongfeng’s face twisted in disbelief at the mention of his deceased child’s name.

By the time He Qingsheng returned to the Ying residence, chaos had already erupted.

She hastily withdrew the baleful aura from Ying Wen’s body, but having already cleansed him once before, he was now too weak, barely clinging to life.

The once lively little boy was now severely diminished. His eyes struggled to focus several times before he finally managed to see the figures before him clearly.

“Ah, Father, Mother,” he called softly. But Ying Hongfeng, who was holding Taotao, was merely mortal and couldn’t hear his voice.

Taotao, however, unconscious as she was, seemed to sense something, a single clear tear slipped from the corner of her eye.

Ying Wen gazed deeply at the two of them, his eyes filled with longing.

But now he understood his own condition. He stretched out his nearly transparent little hands, at a loss.

His lips trembled as if he were about to cry, but then, as if remembering something, he swallowed his tears and forced a sweet smile for Ying Qujie and He Qingsheng. “Uncle, don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault, and it’s not Sister He’s either. Wenwen was just too happy to see Mother and didn’t listen to Sister He about not running off.”

“But Wenwen got to see Mother and remember Father again. And Father wasn’t hurt by Wenwen. That’s already really good. It’s okay if Wenwen has to go now.”

His voice grew fainter, heartbreakingly mature for his age. “I’m sorry, Sister He. I didn’t get to see what you wanted to show me.”

“What do we do?” Ying Qujie looked desperately at He Qingsheng, his expression almost helpless.

Ying Wen’s spirit continued to fade. Instinctively, he curled into a tiny ball, pressing closer to Taotao.

“Mother, it hurts.”

Perhaps the pain was too much. He curled up tighter, his pleading eyes turning to He Qingsheng and Ying Qujie, his voice choked with sobs. “I’m sorry, Uncle and Sister He. I lied to you. I don’t want to die yet.”

He Qingsheng’s heart ached with a dull, heavy pain.