Chapter Twenty-Three: A Scarlet Sleeve Adds Fragrance

Bang! The window flew open though there was no wind, and the hag outside the door suddenly opened her mouth wide—her lips instantly stretching all the way back to her ears, revealing rows upon rows of jagged teeth.

With a splattering sound, a surge of murky water rushed toward Liu Ping.

“Fengchang! Watch out!” Zhu Yingtai, collapsed on the ground, saw the water hurtling toward them and felt an inexpressible sense of impending danger. Unable to contain the alarm in her heart, she let out a piercing scream, not even noticing her voice had become that of a clear young woman.

The unfamiliar female voice caught Liu Ping off guard for a moment, but he quickly dismissed any further thought. Though this was but a common ghost, it possessed some measure of cultivation. Even if he could subdue it, he would not dare be careless.

With a sudden sweep of his hand, spiritual energy burst forth like a rainbow, clashing with the foul water. With several sharp hisses, all of it evaporated into steam.

Sensing Liu Ping’s prowess, the hag turned to flee.

“Think you can escape?” Liu Ping sneered, formed a seal with his hands, and chanted, “By the Supreme One’s decree, release your lonely soul!”

A mass of white light shot toward the hag, who screeched shrilly before instantly dissolving into a cloud of black smoke. When the smoke dispersed, she had vanished from sight.

Liu Ping narrowed his eyes, humming softly. The realm of Ghost Immortal was no empty boast—though called a ghost, the title of immortal was not unearned. Such ordinary specters were no match for him.

Turning back, bathed in moonlight, he gazed at the beautiful woman collapsed on the ground. Though her features were pale, she was clearly a peerless beauty. Surprised, he could not help but ask, “Who are you?”

“I am… Zhu Yingtai’s cousin!” Zhu Yingtai’s heart raced with panic. Her eyes darted about, but she quickly found an excuse and repeated it nervously.

“Nonsense, you’re Zhu Yingtai yourself, aren’t you?” Liu Ping pierced through her lie at once.

“If you knew, why did you ask?” Zhu Yingtai snapped, embarrassment and anger mingling in her voice.

“Jie Zhi… Ah, I didn’t expect you to have such hobbies, or to know such arts. Is it truly so amusing to change from male to female?” Liu Ping helped Zhu Yingtai up as he spoke, his mouth uttering a guess while his eyes closely observed her expression.

As expected, Zhu Yingtai froze for a moment, then nodded, forcing a reply. “Yes, I simply enjoy it.”

“Nonsense, you were born a woman, weren’t you?” Liu Ping scoffed, once again exposing her attempt to hide the truth.

“If you know, why keep asking? Is teasing me really so fun?” Zhu Yingtai, red-faced and mortified, dared not meet his gaze.

Liu Ping said nothing more, instead studying Zhu Yingtai’s features carefully. He couldn’t help but marvel—in truth, she was a rare beauty. Yet it struck him as odd: why didn’t Zhu Yingtai know Liang Shanbo? Thinking back, he recalled that in his previous life, the historical Zhu Yingtai was from the Ming dynasty, while Liang Shanbo was from the Qing. Could that be the reason? That seemed far-fetched.

He decided not to dwell on it and simply admired the portrait-like beauty before him.

The silent atmosphere made Zhu Yingtai uncomfortable. After a while, she spoke with a trace of guilt, “Fengchang, are you angry with me?”

“Why would I be angry?” Liu Ping asked, puzzled.

“Because I lied to you,” Zhu Yingtai replied. She knew this had to be addressed and, after hesitating, lifted her head solemnly. “I’m very sorry, but I must ask—can you keep this secret for me?”

Liu Ping couldn’t help but laugh. “Keep your secret? Of course.”

Zhu Yingtai breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you so—”

Her words caught in her throat as Liu Ping went on, “I’ll keep your secret, but you must agree to a condition.”

Zhu Yingtai’s heart leapt in her chest. She looked at Liu Ping, mortified and wary, then took a deep breath. “You’re taking advantage… Fine, name your condition.”

Liu Ping saw that she misunderstood, but didn’t explain. “Do you remember, when we went to the old quarters earlier, you stood there in a daze? What exactly happened, and what did you see? Tell me everything honestly.”

Zhu Yingtai blinked, surprised by the question. “Is that all?”

Liu Ping smiled. “What did you think I was going to say?”

Her cheeks flushed red as she realized her mistake. Feeling a little embarrassed, she shook her head. “Nothing. But, just a moment.”

She bowed her head and chanted a few incantations. About five minutes later, when she looked up, the enchanting expression had vanished, replaced by the male appearance of Zhu Yingtai.

Looking at the refined face, devoid of the earlier allure, Liu Ping couldn’t help but feel he still seemed a bit like a girl—perhaps out of habit or subconscious bias—but he was certainly less attractive than before. He felt a faint sense of regret.

“What kind of incantation is that?” Liu Ping asked with interest. “To have such an effect?”

Zhu Yingtai replied, “The Invisible Yin-Yang Incantation. It can change physical characteristics, but if you sneeze and lose the stored yin-yang energy, the effect wears off.”

Liu Ping’s eyes lit up. Suddenly, an idea came to him. “Is your Daoist name Drunken Worldly Dust?”

Zhu Yingtai shook his head. “Drunken Worldly Dust? No. I don’t really have a Daoist name. I just picked up a few spells here and there…”

“So it’s not you. Never mind. Tell me what happened just now.”

“Alright.”

After she finished recounting the events, Liu Ping stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Do you remember where that puddle was?”

“Roughly…” Zhu Yingtai was puzzled. “Why do you ask?”

“We should go there and solve the hag’s problem for good,” Liu Ping replied matter-of-factly.

Zhu Yingtai cried out, “She’s not dead?!”

“Of course not.”

“Do I really have to go?”

“If you don’t, she’ll be back…”

A shiver ran down Zhu Yingtai’s spine. She clenched her teeth and said, “I’ll go!”

Liu Ping grinned. “That’s the spirit. I’ll protect you, after all.”

“Then you must protect me well, Fengchang…” Zhu Yingtai insisted.

Liu Ping teased, “You’re not very convincing in your current form… You’d be more persuasive as a girl.”

“Get lost.” Zhu Yingtai cut off his greedy suggestion with a single word.

“Alright, alright, I’ll protect you. Can’t even joke around… Really,” Liu Ping shrugged, clearly a bit disappointed.

The two took their swords and left the room.

The journey was silent, the atmosphere awkward. Only the corners of Zhu Yingtai’s lips curved with a subtle, fleeting smile. Eventually, she couldn’t help but chuckle aloud.

“What are you laughing about?”

“Who’s laughing foolishly…” Zhu Yingtai huffed. “I was just thinking, I had so many worries—if my secret was exposed, it would cause such a stir. But in the end, nothing happened at all.”

“That’s because I’m open-minded. If it were someone else, they might have cut ties with you or used it as leverage…”

Zhu Yingtai said, “That’s why meeting you, Fengchang, is truly my good fortune!”

“As long as you know.” Liu Ping grunted. Soon, they arrived beside the old quarters.

By now it was the dead of night, a faint mist shrouding the surroundings, the air heavy with dampness.

“I think I know where she is,” Liu Ping said, eyes fixed on the nearby marsh. “She’s beneath that marsh. Come on, let’s dig her out.”

“Dig her out?!” Zhu Yingtai jumped in fright. “Can’t you just use a spell to get rid of her? Why dig?”

“Of course to help her pass on… If we can’t destroy her, what if she escapes?”

Zhu Yingtai gave in. “Alright…”

They found a couple of shovels and began to dig. Before long, the corpse of the hag was unearthed, identical to the one before.

Zhu Yingtai’s scalp tingled at the sight. Instinctively, she shrank behind Liu Ping and clung to his sleeve, though her eyes never left the corpse.

With a squelch, Liu Ping plunged his sword directly into the hag’s body.

It was as if a waterskin had been pierced; clear water gushed from the wound—not the foul, murky water from before, but pure, clean water from within.

Closing his eyes, Liu Ping recited, “By the Supreme One’s decree, release your lonely soul. All spirits, all beings, may you find solace. Those with heads may pass on; those without may be reborn. Slain by spear or blade, drowned or hanged…”

As the incantation continued, the clear water from the corpse began to evaporate, forming a figure of mist—a shape resembling an old woman, floating in the air, bowing slowly to Liu Ping.

Behind him, Zhu Yingtai stared wide-eyed in shock.

With his eyes closed, Liu Ping seemed to know exactly what was unfolding before him, and nodded in return to the old woman. His chanting continued, “Died openly or in secret, wronged or resentful, creditors and foes, the souls whose lives you claimed, all kneel before my altar. The eight trigrams shine forth, guiding you to depart, to be reborn elsewhere…”

The hag’s spirit began to dissolve, scattering points of light into the night.

“…Be you man or woman, your destiny you must bear; wealth or poverty, as you invite it. By this decree, all spirits, pass swiftly to rebirth!” As he finished, Liu Ping’s eyes snapped open. “By this decree, all spirits, pass swiftly to rebirth!”

With a rush, the hag vanished completely.

“All done,” Liu Ping said, swiftly filling in the hole. He looked at the still-stunned Zhu Yingtai. “Let’s go back and sleep.”

“It’s… over?” Zhu Yingtai finally recovered and left with Liu Ping.

On the way back, she asked, “Fengchang, are you a Daoist priest?”

Liu Ping nodded. “Mm, when I was young, I apprenticed under a scruffy Daoist who taught me a few spells…”

“Is it alright that I know this?”

“It’s a secret, I suppose. You know mine, and I know yours—fair, isn’t it?”

“Mm…” Zhu Yingtai nodded, clearly pleased. She said earnestly, “Thank you, Fengchang. You’re truly a good man.”

Why do I always get friendzoned? Liu Ping thought, speechless. He returned to the dormitory and fell asleep at once. As for the fact that Zhu Yingtai was truly a woman, he found himself quite content—wasn’t this what people called “keeping a beauty hidden in a golden house”? Or perhaps “poetry and incense in the study” was more fitting?

Lying nearby, Zhu Yingtai couldn’t help but smile softly. As a child, she had always hoped she could live as freely as a boy—laughing, adventuring, not confined to the home, not forced to dress in red silks. Though she was blessed with the beauty that other women envied, she cared little for such things.

All she wished was to live as her heart desired, to find a true kindred spirit—a friend with whom she could share warmth and trust, confide joys and sorrows without restraint.

Despite many days spent with Zhou Yu, their friendship never brought that sense of ease, nor could she reveal her secret. There was always an invisible barrier between them, as if they lived in different worlds, leaving her with a deep sense of disappointment.

But perhaps, through this unexpected adventure, she had found a confidant at last?

In a daze, she seemed to recall the weathered face of the adept who had taught her spells, smiling faintly, saying something she could not quite remember. Try as she might, the memory faded. Too tired to ponder further, her thoughts slowed, and with a gentle smile, she drifted off to sleep.