Chapter Seventeen: The Great Immortal

Perched in the tree, Jiang Lan gazed down at the noisy crowd below, glanced at the tearful ghost girl beside her, then back at the gaggle of young spirits peering on with curiosity.

“My surname is Jiang, the given name, Lan. What is yours?” she asked.

The ghost girl hovered in the air and bowed respectfully to Jiang Lan. “Let me think,” she said softly.

“Think? That’s quite a lovely name,” Jiang Lan replied, tucking the yellow talisman she’d picked up earlier back into the girl’s hand. “Do you have any family left?”

She seemed to be a rather young ghost—less than a hundred years old.

At the question, the girl’s shoulders trembled. “No one.”

Jiang Lan didn’t press further.

Watching as the unconscious man was carried away, Jiang Lan turned to Think. “Shall we go and have a look?”

Think nodded. “Alright.”

Jiang Lan glanced at the water ghosts nearby, who immediately shook their heads in panic. “No, no, Immortal, we have matters to attend to!”

With a nod from Jiang Lan, the water ghosts promptly fled back into the lake.

Xing Mo’s estate was vast. Jiang Lan and Think, one living, one dead, searched for quite a while before finally finding the master bedroom.

“So this is the Third Young Master Xing. It’s quite lively below,” Jiang Lan remarked, hiding with Think in the shadowed beams beneath the eaves, watching the commotion below.

A group of people clustered anxiously around the bed.

A haggard woman sat at the bedside, draped in an outer robe, her face heavy with worry.

“Why hasn’t the imperial physician arrived yet?” she asked, her voice soft but commanding, instantly causing the servants and maids to drop to their knees in fear.

A man of about forty stood nearby, tall and dignified, frowning slightly at the scene.

“Send someone to inquire again,” he ordered.

“Yes, Master,” a servant replied, hurrying out.

“The woman at the bedside is Madam Xing, Minglang’s current mother. The man who spoke just now is Minister Xing, Minglang’s father,” Think whispered.

Current? Jiang Lan glanced at Think, who pressed her lips together, a sign that much was left unsaid.

Before long, a servant and a well-dressed young man burst in, dragging the imperial physician behind them.

“Father, the physician is here!” the young man exclaimed.

“Xing Yuan?” Think looked at Jiang Lan. “Immortal, do you know him?”

Jiang Lan nodded. “Not well, I’ve only met him once.”

“Don’t be fooled by his looks, Immortal. He’s adept at winning favor with Minglang’s father, always playing to the gallery, but it never pleases Minglang.”

Jiang Lan only smiled. Love is blind, after all, and this Xing Mo didn’t seem the easiest to get along with either. When the original owner had her misfortune, Xing Mo had even tried to take over the Jiang family’s business—hardly the kind of person to treat kindly.

Below, as soon as Xing Yuan entered, Minister Xing’s expression softened.

“Father, I took your calling card to the palace without permission. Please forgive me,” Xing Yuan said, immediately dropping to his knees before his father.

“My son, your devotion is touching. Rise, quickly,” Minister Xing replied, his face lighting up.

Xing Yuan stood, his face composed, and then bowed politely to Madam Cui, who sat at the bed’s edge. “Mother.”

But Madam Cui’s thoughts were all for her ailing son on the bed, Xing Mo. She merely raised a hand in acknowledgment, leaving Xing Yuan awkwardly standing.

Minister Xing patted Xing Yuan’s shoulder. “You must be exhausted tonight. Why not go and rest? Your mother’s here with your brother.”

Xing Yuan shook his head. “Father, you should rest. You must attend court early tomorrow. Mother and I will watch over him.”

Hearing this, Minister Xing’s fatigue became apparent—he yawned repeatedly.

“If you’re tired, Master, go and rest with Lady Song. I’m too busy here to attend to you,” Madam Cui said flatly.

With that, the whole room fell silent. Minister Xing’s eyes widened, words caught in his throat.

Jiang Lan, puzzled, glanced at Think.

“Immortal, Lady Song is Xing Yuan’s birth mother,” Think explained.

Ah, so she truly was the favored concubine. Rumor had it, but it seemed true—few could bear the eldest son ahead of the principal wife without being formidable.

“Mo’er is still ill. Why air your grievances now and make us a laughingstock?” Minister Xing muttered to Madam Cui, tugging at her sleeve. At his whispered words, she finally calmed herself.

The imperial physician, having finished his examination, bowed to Minister Xing and Madam Cui.

“Physician, what is wrong with my son?” Madam Cui asked anxiously.

The physician stroked his white beard, brows knitted in concern, glancing around as if reluctant to speak.

Sensing this, Minister Xing promptly sent all the servants and even Xing Yuan out of the room. “Speak freely,” he urged.

The physician clutched his medicine box tightly. “The young master is not ill,” he finally said.

Before Minister Xing could react, Madam Cui’s anxiety flared. “How can he not be ill? He hasn’t woken, his lips are pale, and he’s breaking out in cold sweat!”

Minister Xing took her hand, signaling her to remain calm—he would handle it.

He bowed to the physician. “Please, save my son.”

The physician sighed. “It is not illness, but the work of evil spirits. I am powerless. You must seek a Celestial Master from the Astronomical Bureau.”

At these words, Madam Cui nearly collapsed. Minister Xing caught her. “Don’t be afraid. Tomorrow, I will personally invite a Celestial Master.”

“My lord—”

Jiang Lan shook her head and signaled for Think to take her down.

As soon as they left Xing Mo’s room, Jiang Lan caught sight of a silken hem disappearing around a corner.

Su embroidery? Curious, she followed, and, as expected, found Xing Yuan lurking in the shadows.

Before leaving the Xing estate, Jiang Lan repeatedly warned Think to be cautious and perhaps leave for a while. She’d never met a Celestial Master from the Astronomical Bureau, but they didn’t sound easy to deal with.

A powerful one might even recognize the curse placed on Xing Mo.

“If that happens, you’ll be in danger,” she warned.

But Think only looked delighted, so Jiang Lan couldn’t help but dampen her spirits. “But I don’t want to leave Minglang,” Think confessed.

Jiang Lan sighed, removing a jade Avalokitesvara pendant from her neck—a talisman the original owner had worn since youth.

The moment she took it off, a brilliant Buddha’s light exploded forth, rushing toward Think and frightening her to the ground.

Jiang Lan hurriedly covered the pendant and pricked her finger, letting a drop of blood fall on it. Then she helped Think up. “Don’t be afraid—it’s safe now.”

“Immortal, you truly have many treasures,” Think marveled.

Jiang Lan forced a bitter smile. “This is nothing. Once, I was—” She cut herself off. No use dwelling on the past.

“Keep this with you. If a priest comes after you, you can hide inside and escape disaster. If there’s no time, crush it—it will save your life.”

Think received it and immediately knelt. “Immortal, I am forever indebted. If ever you need me, I will risk life and limb for you.”

Jiang Lan considered for a moment, then whispered something in Think’s ear before leaving.