Xu Ruyi and Meng Qiuci arrived at Huaiguang Pavilion in the afternoon, bringing some rather peculiar news. 

“Monkeys?”

“Yes,” Meng Qiuci replied. “I heard strange noises last night. This morning, senior brother and I went to check, and we found an iron cage in the backyard… filled with countless monkeys.”

Monkeys again. 

Monkeys. Monkey brains… 

Hua Zhuo’s expression darkened slightly. 

“So it seems the Liang family has a habit of eating monkey brains?” she murmured.

Ting Lan spoke up, “There are also noble families in Chang’an who believe that since monkeys are intelligent, eating monkey brains will make them smarter.”

Hua Zhuo thought for a moment. The young girl sat amidst the twilight, dressed in an autumn-colored gown, her flying fairy bun adorned with red tassels, resembling a jade maiden at the feet of an immortal.

“Brother, Ting Lan, and you…”

She spoke to Meng Qiuci in a rather stern tone, yet at the same time, she poured her a cup of tea. Meng Qiuci, somewhat puzzled, accepted the teacup, not even noticing the displeasure in Hua Zhuo’s voice.

Having mulled things over since last night, she was starting to feel that Hua Zhuo wasn’t as difficult to get along with as she had initially thought.

“What is it?” Xu Ruyi asked.

“If the Liang family serves us monkey brains later, I have a feeling it’s best not to eat them.” 

These monkey brains were clearly suspicious. Having watched at least a hundred or so horror films, Hua Zhuo firmly believed that avoiding trouble was the key to survival.

“Mm.” 

The three of them agreed. By evening, a servant from the Liang family came to summon them to the main hall for dinner. 

The Liang family resided in the Ningzhou region, in a rather remote area, yet they were considered a prestigious and influential household. The three masters of the family had divided their properties years ago, but they still lived close to one another.

The eldest master, Liang Changjun, passed the imperial examination in his thirties and was soon promoted to county magistrate of Liyang County. The second master, Liang Cigong, was in the textile business—most of Ningzhou’s fabrics came from the Liang family. The third master, Liang Molian, was incompetent and spent his days currying favor with his two older brothers. Even so, his life was quite comfortable.

The one who invited the exorcists was the household of the eldest master, Liang Changjun. 

And this Liang Changjun… 

The four of them carried simple lanterns. When they arrived at the brightly lit mourning hall, they saw it packed with people, leaving Hua Zhuo momentarily speechless.

Liang Changjun was notoriously lustful.

Hua Zhuo still remembered the plot from the book—Liang Changjun had taken thirteen concubines in total. This year alone, he had lost two children, yet he still had more than ten remaining…

The Liang Manor was packed—full of women and children, it was nearly bursting at the seams.

“Ah! Masters!” 

A middle-aged man in plain mourning clothes noticed them. Liang Changjun was extremely polite, standing up and signaling for the children to quiet down. He approached Hua Zhuo and the others with a forced smile.

“Thank goodness you’ve come! Otherwise, in this seventh lunar month, the children wouldn’t even dare to come out and eat! If you ask me, staying cooped up inside like this will only make them sicker, won’t it?”

A group of children gathered at the entrance of the mourning hall, playing near funeral wreaths and large paper effigies of horses. Even the paper figures of servant boys and girls had been set up. Inside the hall, incense burned steadily, but whenever a gust of wind blew through, the thick smoke swirled, making the white mourning lanterns hanging from the corridors sway unsteadily.

Outside the entrance, over a dozen tables had been arranged, where women dressed in white mourning clothes sat together, chatting. Every so often, they would call out to the similarly dressed children, warning them not to run too fast or be reckless.

Hua Zhuo spotted Liang Shanyuan. 

She was also clad in white mourning garments, which only made her long black hair appear even darker and her complexion eerily pale. Sitting among the living, she looked like a ghost that had mistakenly joined the crowd. Yet, she was calmly playing cat’s cradle with a little girl beside her.

Liang Shanyuan’s slender fingers moved skillfully, weaving an intricate pattern with the string before turning slightly and passing the completed design to the young woman beside her—the one wearing a Buddhist pendant around her neck.

Xu Ruyi listened to Liang Changjun’s words but didn’t agree.

“Magistrate, during the seventh month of the lunar calendar, the Ghost Gate is open. Though ghosts are governed by the local earth deity and city god and further restrained by the laws of the Lady of Clear Skies, the younger members of your household are already unwell. Attending a mourning ceremony in such a state is unwise. It would be best if the servants ensured they returned to rest as soon as possible.” 

Liang Changjun hurriedly nodded in agreement and called for the servants to take the children back to their rooms.

Once the children left, the mourning hall quieted significantly. Xu Ruyi and the others took their seats. 

Finding no interest in sitting with Liang Changjun and his sons, Hua Zhuo picked a stool at the women’s table instead, bringing Ting Lan along. There, she watched as Liang Shanyuan and the kind-faced young woman wearing a Buddhist pendant continued their game of cat’s cradle.

Liang Nanyin glanced at her and offered a gentle smile.

Hua Zhuo found her truly adorable but still forced herself to glare at her, letting out a cold huff despite the pang of guilt in her chest.

Liang Nanyin frowned. She knew Hua Zhuo was arrogant, but she hadn’t expected it to this extent—she couldn’t even get a proper response from a polite greeting.

Just then, as if by coincidence, Liang Shanyuan flipped the string figure in her hands, then turned around and extended the string to Hua Zhuo instead.

“Fifth Sister—” 

Liang Nanyin spoke in a hushed voice.

Hua Zhuo, too, was momentarily stunned.

She saw the woman’s jet-black eyes curve into a smile.

Her stark white fingers, wrapped in red string, stood out sharply as she extended them toward her; her hands carried a faint, bitter scent of medicinal herbs.

The other women at the table noticed the movement. The first to speak was the matron, Madam Li. 

“Young lady, are you from Chang’an?” 

“Mm.” 

Hua Zhuo scratched her cheek. It had been a long time since she had played cat’s cradle. As her fingers hooked onto the red string, they accidentally brushed against Liang Shanyuan’s skin, immediately causing an icy sensation. 

She struggled clumsily to flip the string onto her own hands.

Hua Zhuo couldn’t help but smile as she looked up, revealing two small tiger teeth. She handed the string back over, only to notice that Liang Shanyuan was also smiling—though there was something strange about her smile.

“Chang’an is a fine place,” Madam Li remarked as she watched the two of them pass the string back and forth. “Shanyuan, do you get along well with this young lady?” 

“Yes, very well, Mother,” Liang Shanyuan replied. 

As her icy fingers flipped the string, they brushed lightly against Hua Zhuo’s warm hand.

So it was true.

He hadn’t been mistaken.

The pain that had been seeping through his entire being suddenly dissipated, as if, for a fleeting moment, he had climbed out of hell and returned to the human world—not a ghost, but a real person, just like everyone else.

Why?

Was this a trick?

Liang Shanyuan’s half-lidded, pitch-black eyes were filled with wary hostility, yet his hands still held the string, offering it to her.

But Hua Zhuo no longer reached out to take it.

The moment he lost contact with the girl’s warm fingertips, the pain that had just receded surged back like a tide, swallowing him whole. It was as if he had been abruptly shaken awake from a dream.

Liang Shanyuan couldn’t help but lift his gaze, only to see her handmaid picking up food and feeding it to her. The oil from the dish left a glistening sheen on the girl’s peach-colored lips.

“Get along? You and I could never get along.” 

Hua Zhuo chewed her food, eyes filled with arrogance.

She must not—under any circumstances—become close to Liang Shanyuan.

“You give me the feeling of someone with a heavy heart, someone complicated. I hate people like you the most. Stop coming near me. Just because we played a game of cat’s cradle, do you think that means anything?” 

Hua Zhuo heard the notification in her mind: Yin Merit +15.

She grew a little anxious, wondering what she should give Liang Shanyuan in return—something to ease her own conscience a little.

Who even talked like this?

The chatter among the women paused for a moment.

After all, Liang Shanyuan was adopted by the matron, Madam Li. Madam Li originally had a son and a daughter—Liang Shanren and Liang Shanyuan. However, years ago, her daughter went missing. When she later adopted this girl, she gave her the same name: Liang Shanyuan.

Though adopted, she was considered a lost daughter returned, and the household treated her with respect. 

Concubine Yang, a sycophant, was just about to speak up when a line of servants carrying dishes filed in, conveniently preventing an argument from breaking out.

Meng Qiuci arrived as well. The first dishes served were all vegetarian, arranged in a neat circle around the table. Then, the meat dishes started coming in.

At last, the centerpiece dish was brought out—a large porcelain plate filled with a thick, milky-white broth. Within the pale soup, the delicate lines of brain matter were faintly visible, their shapes distorted under the flickering lantern light.

“Everyone, have a taste,” Madam Li gently smiled at the three of them. “This is one of Liang Manor’s finest dishes—lotus root stew with monkey brain. Anyone who’s ever tried it never forgets the taste.” 

The aroma was rich and enticing, though it was unclear how the monkey brain had been prepared.

Ting Lan, who had always been a bit of a glutton, instinctively swallowed. But the moment she caught sight of her lady’s gaze, she quickly put down her chopsticks.

Madam Li seemed worried that they might feel too reserved, so she instructed the servants to serve each of them a bowl. 

“Go on, try it—it truly is delicious—” 

Before she could finish her sentence, the muffled sound of a woman holding back sobs echoed through the room.

It was Qin Shi, the birth mother of the Ninth Son. 

“What’s wrong, dear sister?” Madam Li comforted her, sitting close and gently patting her back.

“It’s nothing, madam,” Qin Shi replied, her voice trembling.

She was strikingly beautiful—Hua Zhuo remembered that she had once been an opera singer before being bought into the manor by Liang Changjun, a man more than thirty years her senior. Standing next to Madam Li, who looked old enough to be her mother, the contrast was stark.

“I just can’t help but remember… back then, he also refused to eat monkey brains. Madam, you comforted him the same way, and after that, he grew to love it. Now, whenever I think of him, my heart aches so much, madam…” 

“Sigh, you must try to let go, dear sister. Ninth son’s spirit in heaven surely wouldn’t want to see you crying like this.” 

Qin Shi wiped her tears, her sorrow evident.

Nuo Zhuo continued eating her vegetarian dishes, watching the scene unfold like a play. But just then, Qin Shi, who had been sobbing under Madam Li’s comfort, suddenly lifted her head. 

Her tear-filled eyes turned sharp, filled with venom, as she glared across the room at someone.

Hua Zhuo was startled by the look in Qin Shi’s eyes and instinctively followed her gaze. She was stunned.

She found herself locking eyes with someone who was staring directly at her.

It was Liang Mengshi—the woman with a few loose screws whom she had encountered on her first night here. 

Liang Mengshi was fiddling with the silver bells on her clothing, grinning foolishly at Hua Zhuo.

“You still dare to smile…” 

Qin Shi, still crying, spoke in a resentful, eerie tone, loud enough for those nearby to hear.

“You went mad, desperate for a son. Your worthless daughter died last year, and come the Ghost Festival, my son went too… Don’t think I don’t know what you did!” 

“Ah, sister, don’t speak nonsense,” Madam Li quickly interjected.

Madam Li glanced at Liang Changjun across the table. “If the master hears you say such things—” 

“Let him hear!” 

Though Qin Shi spoke defiantly, her voice quietened but was still laced with barely suppressed fury, her entire being seething with resentment toward Liang Mengshi, as if she wished to peel her skin off and devour her alive.

“Don’t think I don’t know! I lived in the same courtyard as her. Yes, I used to run my mouth and say a few things about her, and she was jealous of me for it. But if she had a grudge, she should’ve taken it out on me! Ninth Son was just a child… How could this venomous woman have the heart to do such a thing?!” 

“Sister, she’s a fool,” Madam Li coaxed. “How could she possibly be capable of something like that? You said a few things back then, but she’s probably long forgotten. Let it go.”

Tears streamed down Qin Shi’s face like a river.

“Madam, you should understand me! Even if she truly couldn’t have done it, in my heart, it still has something to do with her! I know I’m mad, but how can a mother not go insane after losing her child—her son?! Ninth Son was no worse than Shiqi; he was such a bright and promising boy. And think about back then—when Shanyuan disappeared, wasn’t she just as outstanding? She was even better than a son! Didn’t Nanyin adore her sister Shanyuan back then? Madam, you should understand the pain of losing a child—it’s like having your heart carved out, your bones hollowed…” 

As Qin Shi’s sobs filled the air, the women at the table fell into silence.

Especially Yang Shi, who had given birth to the Sixth son, Liang Shiqi—she lowered her head and said nothing, shifting her seat further away, as if the conversation itself carried ill fortune.

Hua Zhuo stole a glance at Liang Shanyuan beside her. She thought there would be some kind of reaction, but the ghost-like woman remained expressionless, quietly playing cat’s cradle.

Madam Li dabbed at her tears with a handkerchief, joining Qin Shi in mutual consolation.

Fortunately, with all the commotion, no one paid attention to them, allowing Hua Zhuo and the others to avoid the monkey brain dish entirely. By the time the meal was nearing its end, not a single bite had been eaten.

Seeing Xu Ruyi motioning to them, the three of them rose, paid their respects at the memorial tablet, and prepared to leave.

Madam Li wiped her tears with a handkerchief, sobbing uncontrollably as she spoke about her outstanding daughter. “Masters, tomorrow marks the Ninth Son’s first seven-day memorial. Our family has arranged for an opera troupe to perform in the residence. The burial will take place the day after.” 

Seeing Hua Zhuo’s slightly surprised expression, Madam Li smiled at her. “Liyang County is not like Chang’an—we don’t have so many rigid customs. Ninth Son loved lively occasions in life; it’s only right to let the child watch one last performance.” 

Upon hearing this, Qin Shi wept even harder, drawing an annoyed glance from Liang Changjun at the other table. Startled, Qin Shi immediately stifled her sobs, not daring to cry out loud.

“Alright,” Xu Ruyi agreed first, leading the four of them as they prepared to leave. 

Just then, the crisp sound of silver bells rang out. 

Hua Zhuo turned back—Liang Mengshi was still staring at her.

Liang Mengshi smiled and, in a voice neither too loud nor too soft, said, “Good child, you’re still so afraid to eat monkey brains.” 

The surroundings fell into silence. 

Liang Shanyuan’s hands, which had been flipping the string figures, paused. “Seventh Aunt, you’ve mistaken her. That is not Liang Hai.”

Liang Mengshi, however, paid no mind and just kept staring at Hua Zhuo with an eager look.

Ting Lan, displeased, quickly led her princess away.

“I asked around—ever since her daughter accidentally drowned in the lake at the beginning of the year, that Seventh Concubine has been acting strange. Third Miss, don’t mind her. These lunatics always try to scare people.” 

“Wasn’t it said she accidentally fell into the water?” 

Meng Qiuci froze.

“What accidental drowning?” Ting Lan, being a servant, had already connected with the other servants in the Liang household while helping Hua Zhuo in the kitchen. She had heard plenty of gossip about the Liang family. 

“She jumped in herself right after finishing her New Year’s Eve dinner!”

---

TN:

i wonder if seventh aunt is faking her craziness 🤔