“Why?”

Liang Shanyuan’s voice was calm. “Miss Hua Zhuo, you are innocent, so there is no need to lift your head. If you raise it now, your throat will be slit.”

Hua Zhuo quickly lowered her head, but through the gaps between Liang Shanyuan’s cold fingers, she caught sight of the stage.

It was packed with long-haired “people.” Some had bloodstained mouths, while others did not. They were dressed in human clothing, bright and colorful, standing rigidly on the stage, staring at Hua Zhuo and Liang Shanyuan with round, brown eyes.

Not a single “person” spoke.

They were monkeys.

All of them were monkeys.

Cold sweat trickled down Hua Zhuo’s forehead. The stage was ablaze with lantern light, illuminating the figures standing there. Suddenly, fresh blood began seeping from their heads, trickling down in vivid red streams, soaking their clothes, dripping onto the stage with a sickening patter. Their bulging eyes seemed on the verge of falling from their sockets.

One after another, they opened their mouths wide—

And let out the most chilling, bloodcurdling monkey screams.

Cold sweat drenched Hua Zhuo’s body. Her vision darkened, and she fainted on the spot.

As she lost consciousness, she slumped softly against Liang Shanyuan.

“…Miss Hua Zhuo?”

The stage had returned to normal.

This place was the abandoned backyard of the Liang Manor. No one had tended to it for a long time, and the only people living nearby were neglected concubines who had aged out of favor. The stage, once lively with performances, was now covered in dust and decay.

From a distance, the faint and indistinct sound of an opera singer’s voice drifted through the air.

Liang Shanyuan lowered his gaze. His pale fingers slowly pressed against the girl’s delicate wrist, as if kneading a piece of dough. The veins on the back of Hua Zhuo’s fair, jade-like hand soon bulged under his grip.

Yet, just as suddenly, Liang Shanyuan loosened his hold.

He picked up the white lantern at his feet and raised it above the unconscious girl’s head, studying her features carefully.

A soft, oval face still carrying traces of baby fat, delicately arched brows, lips like vermilion, and a straight, refined nose. Most striking of all was the crimson cinnabar mark at the center of her forehead, adding a touch of vivid beauty. Now, with fear lingering on her expression, she appeared even more fragile and pitiable.

But Liang Shanyuan didn’t think she was pitiful.

He had never once found the living to be pitiful.

Liang Shanyuan carefully examined the girl’s face; he gripped the back of Hua Zhuo’s head, turning it from side to side as he scrutinized her features.

There was something peculiar about this girl. If she were a spirit from the mountains that had taken a human form, she was likely a cat or a bird.

The problem was, he had no idea how to handle this so-called “antidote.” If he were to sever her limbs or poison her and keep her corpse by his side, the antidote might lose its vitality. If that happened, there would be nothing left in this world capable of easing his agonizing, bone-eroding pain.

Besides, the pain from harvesting human hearts was already unbearable. This girl was strange—immune to the lure of his sorcery. If he harmed her, who knew what further punishment the heavens might inflict upon him?

Cornered with no easy solution, it was better to observe for now. Keeping her close under the guise of friendship would allow him to uncover her weaknesses. Once he had her fully under his control, he could decide what to do with her.

A sinister shadow flickered across Liang Shanyuan’s gaze.

After a moment, he slung Hua Zhuo over his shoulder and left.

—

On the opera stage, a performance of ‘The Female Prince Consort’ was underway. Out of respect for a recent mourning in the family, the performers were dressed entirely in white. The only touch of color came from the small red flowers adorning the lead actress’s headpiece.

Bright lanterns illuminated the surroundings. White paper lanterns hung on all sides. The stage had been set up right next to the mourning hall, and below it, the seats were filled with members of the Liang family.

Tonight, even Liang Changjun’s two younger brothers had come, bringing along their wives and children. The children, having not been allowed out for some time, were particularly excited. Mimicking the opera performers on stage, they pranced around, singing in playful, exaggerated tones, completely unaware of the eerie chill that lurked beyond the lantern-lit stage.

Xu Ruyi sat on a wooden stool, using his own fingertip blood to draw talismans.

“Senior Brother,”

A small stack of talismans had already piled up. Meng Qiuci, looking worried, spoke up, “That should be enough, right? If you still need more, why don’t I help you draw some?”

Xu Ruyi hooked his blood-stained fingertip in the air and shook his head. The young man was cool and detached, as cold and slender as a bamboo shoot in winter. Today, he was dressed in white, his long hair tied high in a ponytail, with a red ribbon cascading down from his hair. His brows and eyes bore an uncanny resemblance to that girl, Hua Zhuo—about eighty percent alike, both having those clear, apricot-shaped eyes.

Even just glancing at him made Meng Qiuci feel a little flustered.

“My blood is closely related to Zhuo’er’s. Only if I draw the talismans myself will they be most effective. Zhuo’er has no means of protecting herself, and since she has come to rely on me, I must ensure everything is in order for her.”

“Senior Brother, you’re such a good brother.”

Meng Qiuci nodded, trying to think of ways to ease his burden. Seeing the blood staining the boy’s other hand, she gently took Xu Ruyi’s fingertips and wiped them with her handkerchief.

Xu Ruyi’s long lashes quivered slightly, and a faint pink tinge spread across his earlobes. His hand, which had been steadily drawing, noticeably slowed down.

“Masters.”

Just then, a young man dressed in rough mourning garments approached.

Xu Ruyi instinctively paused, hurriedly retracting his hand. Meng Qiuci also seemed a bit embarrassed as the two of them looked up at the newcomer.

“I am the sixth son of my family—Shiqi is my given name,”

Liang Shiqi bowed respectfully to them, holding two cups of wine in his hands. He handed one to Xu Ruyi.

“It’s already late, and I intend to retire soon. I wanted to greet you both before I left.”

“Ah! Sixth Brother!”

Xu Ruyi had just accepted the wine cup when another person approached. Unlike the refined and delicate-looking Liang Shiqi, this newcomer was tall and broad, with unremarkable features but thick brows and large eyes, exuding a strong masculine presence.

“I’ve been wanting to greet the two masters since earlier, but you got ahead of me!”

“Fifth Brother, I didn’t mean to. I was just about to head back to rest, so I thought I’d say hello first.”

Liang Shanren quickly took another wine cup and handed it to Meng Qiuci. He seemed to be the talkative and outgoing type, slapping Liang Shiqi on the shoulder as he spoke to Meng Qiuci and Xu Ruyi.

“Masters, do you know how to read palms? If you do, could you take a look at ours?”

Hearing this, a child nearby ran over excitedly. “Fifth Brother! I want my palm read too!”

“Go, go! Kids shouldn’t be running over and making trouble!”

Liang Shanren waved the child away toward the women’s section, then dragged Liang Shiqi forward.

Liang Shiqi smiled awkwardly but still followed along, his delicate features showing a hint of expectation.

“Master, take a look at my clever little brother here. Will he rise to greater heights in his scholarly pursuits?”

Xu Ruyi and Meng Qiuci exchanged glances. Meng Qiuci, skilled in fortune-telling and divination, set down her untouched wine cup and moved closer to Liang Shiqi, gently taking his hand.

Meng Qiuci’s beauty was simple yet comforting, like a handful of warm water gently seeping into one’s heart.

Liang Shiqi had clearly never been in close contact with such a delicate and gentle woman before. His fair face immediately flushed as he lowered his head, drawing a hearty laugh from Liang Shanren. The commotion attracted the attention of onlookers, some abandoning the play to come over and watch. Even Liang Shiqi’s mother, Madam Yang, approached curiously to see what was happening.

Meng Qiuci held his left hand carefully, examining it for a moment before nodding. “Your academic path is auspicious.”

“Auspicious?” Liang Shanren suppressed his laughter, keeping only a smile on his face as he pressed further. “Master, how auspicious are we talking about? This younger brother of mine is the pillar of our Liang family. Please, be a bit more specific.”

“In the next twenty years, he will become a jinshi.”

The moment Meng Qiuci’s words fell, the crowd erupted in astonishment. Madam Yang was visibly overwhelmed with joy, her eyes shining as she looked at her son. She hurriedly asked, “And beyond jinshi? Is there still a chance for further advancement?”

“There is.”

Gasps of admiration rippled through the crowd again.

“But—”

Meng Qiuci slightly furrowed her brows before raising her gaze to Liang Shiqi. “Your fate is filled with obstacles. Beware of those close to you.”

Liang Shiqi froze momentarily, but before he could react, Liang Shanren had already stepped forward, pushing him aside.

Liang Shanren, tall and imposing, extended his palm toward Meng Qiuci with a broad grin. “Master, please take a look at mine as well!”

Meng Qiuci took his hand and examined it carefully before asking, “Academics?”

“Yes.”

“You have no aptitude for academics. If you abandon scholarly pursuits and go into business, you will find your own path to success.”

Her words were light and casual, yet at that moment, hurried footsteps approached from the other side—it was Tinglan, running toward them.

The moment Xu Ruyi saw Tinglan’s expression, he knew something was wrong. Without hesitation, he quickly gathered his freshly drawn talismans and prepared to leave. Seeing this, Meng Qiuci immediately followed.

“Hey! Master! Are you saying there’s truly no chance for me to turn this around?” Liang Shanren was unwilling to accept it.

“If you give up studying and pursue commerce or military service, you will certainly achieve great success. I have not asked for your birth chart, but I fear that your Fate Palace is aligned with Sha, Po, and Lang —a formation that thrives on adversity and ambition. The world offers more than just one path to success. Finding what suits you best is the most important thing.”

Meng Qiuci gave a polite bow. “I must take my leave now.”

The woman in white departed.

Liang Shiqi, still held excitedly by his mother, Yang Shi, couldn’t help but feel joy. These two masters were from a royal sect specializing in ghost taming and fortune-telling—their readings were known to be extremely accurate. He was just about to speak to his mother about this when a forceful impact suddenly knocked him aside.

Pain shot through his shoulder as he looked up—Liang Shanren had slammed into him and left without a word.

“It seems your fifth brother has had too much to drink,” Yang Shi sighed, patting her son’s shoulder.

“I’m fine, Mother,” Liang Shiqi reassured her with a gentle smile, his temperament as mild as ever.

Yang Shi was already of a certain age, but with her face dusted in powder and rouge, her charm still lingered. She spoke in a warm tone,

“When we get home, I’ll have the small kitchen prepare monkey brains for you. I specifically asked your father for the freshest ones. Your third uncle just sent them over this morning. Tonight, once they’re cooked, you must eat the whole thing, understand?”

Liang Shiqi, having just finished his meal, visibly winced at her words. Yang Shi patted his shoulder reassuringly.

“The master said you will pass the imperial examination within the next twenty years. We must put in even more effort! Eat more monkey brains—diligence can make up for shortcomings. If you work hard enough, you could aim for second place, or even the top scholar. You are the pillar of our Liang family. I am not favored by your father, so I can only rely on you. Do you understand, Shiqi?”

“Yes, Mother. I will listen to everything you say,” Liang Shiqi pursed his lips and nodded. Only then did Yang Shi reveal a satisfied expression.

*

“It’s all my fault! All my fault!”

Tinglan knelt on the ground, continuously kowtowing, her face streaked with tears. “I hadn’t listened to an opera in a long time, and the young lady was kind enough to allow me to go. But I was careless—utterly careless! I should never have left the young lady alone in her room without informing you! Every mistake is mine alone! Please, young master, punish me!”

Xu Ruyi glanced at Hua Zhuo, who was lying on the bed, and furrowed his brows slightly. “Enough. Get up.”

Tinglan continued to sob, her forehead knocking against the ground with a dull thud, thud sound. Meng Qiuci’s heart twisted at the sight, and she hurriedly helped Tinglan up.

“Alright, go now. Hua Zhuo is still unconscious. Quickly, fetch a physician.”

Only then did Tinglan seem to realize what she should do. She nodded hurriedly and ran out to find a doctor.

Xu Ruyi approached the bedside, looking at his younger sister lying there, her breathing even. Seeing that she had no external injuries, he finally let out a breath of relief. But then, his gaze landed on the edge of the bed—where two hands were tightly clasped together. He froze slightly before bowing to Liang Shanyuan.

“Many thanks to Fifth Young Lady for bringing my sister back tonight. But may I ask what exactly happened? How did Hua Zhuo suddenly end up outside? If you know, I would be grateful if you could tell me.”

Liang Shanyuan was sitting on a carved wooden chair, her black hair cascaded down; she was dressed in pure white with white jade earrings dangling from her ears. She looked up upon hearing the question, her cold and beautiful face unchanged.

“Tonight, I had planned to go into the woods to feed the fish. I hesitated for a while, wondering whether I should head to the lakeside before nightfall. That was when I saw Miss Hua Zhuo…” Liang Shanyuan lifted her gaze, her pupils dark like obsidian. “With you, on the way to the forest.”

Xu Ruyi stiffened as if struck by lightning.

Meng Qiuci’s eyes widened. “Fifth Young Lady, may I ask—what time was this?”

“Around the hour of You —just as the sky was beginning to darken.”

“At that time… my senior brother and I were watching the opera in the front courtyard of the mourning hall… How is that possible…”

Xu Ruyi shook his head at Meng Qiuci, signaling Liang Shanyuan to continue.

“I saw you and Miss Hua Zhuo heading toward the forest together. I called out, but that ‘you’ immediately turned into a paper effigy and fluttered to the ground. It startled me terribly, and Miss Hua Zhuo was clearly frightened as well. She fainted on the spot. I forced myself to remain calm and brought her back.”

“This… actually happened…” Xu Ruyi’s forehead was instantly covered in cold sweat, and he collapsed onto a chair.

If Fifth Young Lady hadn’t thought to go to the forest to feed the fish tonight, Hua Zhuo would have already been lured into the lake and drowned by the ghost impersonating him!

The sheer danger of it sent chills down his spine!

Meng Qiuci, still holding onto some sense of composure, hurriedly expressed gratitude to Liang Shanyuan. As they were speaking, Tinglan returned with a physician, who turned out to be none other than the dust-covered Eighth Young Lady, Liang Nanyin.

She moved swiftly, nodding briefly to Liang Shanyuan as she set down her medical kit. “Rest assured, everyone. I have studied medicine under my master for six years and have traveled extensively to practice. If anyone in the manor falls ill, I am always the first to tend to them.”

Liang Nanyin pulled down the bed curtain, picked up her medical box, and turned her head. “Fifth Sister, please step aside with the others.”

Her words also hinted at the hands that were still intertwined.

Liang Shanyuan lowered her gaze slightly. After a brief pause, she finally let go of Hua Zhuo’s fingers and withdrew with the others.

“Fifth Young Lady,” Xu Ruyi cupped his hands toward Liang Shanyuan. “I hope you can tell us how many people in the manor have died in the river or ponds over the past few years. As long as it’s related to water, please list them all.”

Liang Shanyuan rested her fingertips on her chin, humming softly as she thought.

“I haven’t been adopted by the Liang family for long, so I can only tell you what I know.”

“We’d be deeply grateful.”

“Do you have paper and ink? My memory isn’t very good.”

Meng Qiuci took out the brush, ink, and inkstone she carried with her. Tinglan, still crying, was of no use. She searched herself and only found a piece of yellow talisman paper.

This…

However, Liang Shanyuan didn’t seem to mind the inauspiciousness. She took the hesitantly offered yellow paper, ground the ink herself, and wrote while thinking.

“In past years, most of the Liang family members died of illness, mostly daughters. Before I arrived, only one drowned—Liang Baijing, the daughter of Ninth Concubine Yang. She was very young at the time. After that, as for deaths related to water…”