Love breeds worry; love breeds fear; and love that cannot be had breeds a darkness all its own.
Qin Zheng had become a ghost—so his love could never be. Shen Ci had fallen one step short—so his love could never be either.
The story told, everyone must return to where they belonged.
Qin Zheng's words were not regret, nor a bid for lighter punishment. He only wanted Ling Wu to grant him a little more time—long enough to watch the woman he loved married off.
Ling Wu agreed.
Not because she was kind, but because Yunshu had knelt too. That cat demon fawned on Qin Zheng like a doting grandson; if begging was required, she begged right along.
As dawn whitened the sky, Ling Wu led one ghost and one demon back to the Shen residence.
Qingchen already knew the whole story from start to finish, and Ling Wu marveled inwardly: so the old gentleman was quite the gossip too.
If he hadn't secretly used the Mirror of Floating Life to watch the three of them's past, how would he know it in such detail? He even knew where Li Funing's rabbit lantern was kept.
"Ah-Wu, do not alter a mortal's fate again," he warned.
Ling Wu thought of the Shen Qingyu affair—had the Star of Destiny gone tattling to her master behind her back?
"Do this, and you will damage their next lives."
A cause sown in one life bears fruit in the next. The wheel of karma turns and never misses—that is Heaven's way.
Meddle too much, and the backlash would find her.
Mortals who suffered more than these three were beyond counting; he did not want her trapped by them.
Ling Wu understood quickly enough. She nodded, the picture of earnestness. "Your disciple understands."
Soon enough came the day of the Shen–Li wedding.
Yunshu had never seen such a festive spectacle and raised a racket to be allowed her human form.
Ling Wu dared not risk it. After a moment's thought, she hung the wooden carving from her waist. Without the demon-catching pouch in the way, Yunshu's view opened up wonderfully.
As for Qin Zheng, she stowed him inside an oil-paper umbrella.
So long as he stayed close to her and her master, nothing would harm him.
Red silk flowers hung everywhere in the Shen household; maids and servants dressed gaily. Laughter filled the compound—some carrying trays, some greeting guests, all bustle and cheer.
By contrast, Qin Zheng looked unbearably melancholy.
He stared at Shen Ci's room, red-eyed, lost in who knew what.
Honestly, with the murderous air gone, this evil ghost was rather easy on the eyes.
No wonder Li Funing had fallen for him at first sight—even if she had loved the wrong man.
Shen Ci had been up at dawn, surrounded by servants dressing him for the ceremony, without a trace of impatience. But one thing puzzled Ling Wu: on this day of great joy, having won the woman he loved, where was his happiness? Why did he sometimes wear a smile so bitter?
Ai. These mortals were simply too hard to read.
Not like her master, who wore his heart on his face. One glance and she could gauge his mood exactly.
Shen Ci rode a tall horse to the Li residence to claim his bride.
They followed unseen—not that they cared for the spectacle, but Qin Zheng's expression was too pleading. He watched the procession leave with naked longing, even stumbling a few steps after it, blind to the sun scorching him.
Hopeless lovesick fool!
The Li residence was red from gate to courtyard today. Ling Wu slipped in ahead of the Shen party and made her way to Li Funing's chambers.
A bride must rise early, it seemed; by the time she entered, Li Funing was already groomed and seated before her dressing mirror.
Phoenix crown, red bridal cape, rouge on her cheeks, a touch of red on her lips—she looked far grander than that night at the lantern festival.
At the sight of her, Qin Zheng lurched forward like a man possessed, staggering to reach her hand. "Funing..."
Ling Wu was speechless. The young master of the Shen family was getting married, and here was a ghost wailing and blubbering—not just inauspicious, but wasn't he afraid the wedding joy would burn him!
She had just managed to catch hold of him when she saw tears fall.
"Funing... Funing..."
In this life, the two of them would never meet again. A love gone into the marrow—how was he to let it go?
"Qin Zheng, do you blame me?" Li Funing's voice came soft.
At the words, his whole body shuddered, and the tears burst their banks.
Good heavens, what a scene! Ling Wu had never seen a man weep his heart out like this.
Li Funing was no better, tears dropping as she spoke: "In your next life, don't meet me. Had I known I would ruin you so, I would never have promised you my life. Without me, at least your life would have been safe..."
"I don't blame you. The fault is mine... Funing, all of it is mine..."
They took turns weeping, one rising as the other sank, and watching it all, Ling Wu felt her own chest go sour.
She wanted to comfort Qin Zheng, but no words would come. As she pressed her lips together, from the corner of her eye she caught Qingchen watching her.
Boldly she looked back—and found his expression shadowed too.
Was her master... moved by the sight?
In all her life she had never seen him wear such a face.
Li Funing reached up to wipe her tears; her bracelet slid down, baring an old scar across her wrist. "When the news first came, I wanted to follow you. My father pulled me back. He warned me that if I didn't learn my place, he would cast my mother's memorial tablet out of the ancestral hall and dump it in a mass grave..."
"He also said that even dead, I could still be married off in a ghost wedding. From beginning to end, he never loved me. What am I, in the end...?"
All she had ever wanted was to be loved wholeheartedly by someone.
But that someone was already dead.
Qin Zheng seemed never to have known this. His eyes flew wide, and he dragged himself forward on his knees, desperate to reach her side.
But he could not come near her at all.
Seeing the auspicious light scorch his face whiter and whiter, Ling Wu moved to pull him back—until Yunshu said quietly, "Let him. It's the last time."
Her master raised no objection either, so Ling Wu could only withdraw her hand.
Love truly was a poison that corroded the gut: one taste, and you endured its slow slicing forever.
At last his fingers brushed the hem of Li Funing's robe, and a satisfied smile crossed Qin Zheng's face.
Let her already be married to him, then.
The auspicious hour arrived. Drums and gongs shook the sky, firecrackers crackled, and Li Funing entered the bridal sedan.
At the sight of her, Shen Ci's bitter expression finally lifted.
He swung up into the saddle and rode his beloved home, so radiant that for a moment he was the young lord everyone had praised again.
The townsfolk along the route debated the match this way and that, but none of it touched Shen Ci's mood.
After the rites, maids led Li Funing to the bridal chamber.
Shen Ci stayed out to entertain the guests, his eyes brimming with smiles.
Old Master and Madam Shen beamed as well—their son's love was their love. Let people talk about her reputation; they couldn't have picked wrong.
At the banquet, Yunshu picked at her food listlessly, while Ling Wu ate with tremendous appetite.
All the maids today were busy serving the Shen family; no one fawned over her master. And—she got to sit next to him.
What a truly excellent thing!
Most of the guests had heard how the pair had cured Shen Ci, and they toasted Qingchen with new respect.
Worried her master's body couldn't take it, Ling Wu tactfully declined a few cups on his behalf.
The guests couldn't resist teasing: "So the young gentleman is henpecked!"
She wanted to argue—but the two of them were indeed presenting as husband and wife, so she let it go.
She whispered, "Master, don't be angry. Your disciple's reverence for you flows on like a surging river without end. Mortals don't understand—no need to stoop to them."
Qingchen smiled around the words: "No matter. This master can be."
Ling Wu grew only more certain the man was a glutton for punishment.
Whoever became his wife would be blessed indeed—free to trample him all she liked!