Chapter 21 The Sky Has Already Brightened.

Chapter 21: Daybreak.

A rustling sound stirred the maid dozing in the outer chamber. Her eyes fluttered open as the door creaked, revealing a small figure emerging from within.

"Young master, what's wrong?" The maid fumbled for her flint striker, intending to light a candle.

The figure stood motionless. The maid approached with the lit candle, but before she could speak, she saw those eyes—black as pitch.

She barely registered Zhao Wenqi’s lips parting, exhaling a wisp of black smoke. Her scream died in her throat before it could escape.

The maid collapsed with a thud, the extinguished candle rolling beside her.

Zhao Wenqi stepped out of his room and headed toward the chambers of the old master and mistress. He pushed the door open with his small hands, finding the night-duty maid lying rigid on the bed, utterly unresponsive.

The inner door creaked open. The elderly slept lightly, and the sound woke Zhao Wenqi’s grandmother. "Who's there?" she called out.

Craning her neck, she squinted at the figure illuminated by the moonlight filtering through the window.

Who else could that small stature belong to but her darling grandson?

"Qi'er, is that you, Qi'er?"

No answer came. The old woman recalled tales from her hometown—some children sleepwalked, and waking them abruptly risked losing their souls.

Panicked, she shook her snoring husband. "Old man, wake up!"

"Hmm? What's wrong?" The old master grumbled as he woke.

"Qi'er is sleepwalking! Light the candle quickly—don't let him bump into anything!"

The old man hurried to light the candle while his wife swiftly got out of bed and rushed toward Zhao Wenqi.

The moment she grasped his hand, an icy chill shot up her arm.

She heard her grandson, whose hand she held, let out a laugh.

It was a strange, distinctly feminine laugh.

As the candle flickered to life, the old woman saw her grandson's face.

His head was tilted at an exaggerated angle, his eyes jet black, and his lips stretched into a wide, grotesque grin.

"Oh no—Qi'er’s been possessed!"

She’d heard of children with weak life forces being overtaken by spirits, their eyes turning black. They said willow branches could whip the ghost out.

Thinking fast, she urged her startled husband, "I'll hold him! Go get help—and fetch some willow branches!"

"Right!" The old man shuffled toward the door in his slippers. Before he could touch it, the open door slammed shut with a bang.

"Mother truly dotes on her grandson, doesn't she? When my son burned with fever at night, you slept soundly. Why the change now?"

The childish voice had transformed into a woman's—one eerily familiar. The old woman’s blood ran cold, and her scalp prickled.

"Y-You... who are you?" She yanked her hand away, stumbling back several steps.

Xiao Lin Shi moved closer, smiling. "I've only been dead a few days. Have you forgotten me so soon?"

"L-Lin Shi?"

"Heh heh, I knew it. Mother must remember me, just as I, even in death, remember Mother and Father."

"Lin Shi, l-let's talk this through." The old woman's gaze darted to her husband by the door.

Silently, the old man grabbed a vase from beside the door and crept toward Xiao Lin Shi.

"I've longed to speak properly with you both—" The vase smashed into her head before she could finish.

Yet Zhao Wenqi's body didn't even budge. His neck contorted backward unnaturally. "How cruel of you, Father."

A wooden stool flew across the room, slamming into the old man's legs—once, twice, thrice...

Amid his screams, his legs were crushed to pulp by the sturdy wooden stool.

Abandoning all hope, kneeling beside her screaming husband, the old woman begged, "Lin Shi, we wronged you! For Zhao Ming's sake—he treated you so well all these years—spare us! Tell us what you want—paper money, incense, anything! I promise to give it to you."

"Hah! He treated me well? If he treated me well, he wouldn't have killed me, nor would he have conspired with you to deceive me for all these years!"

The stool flew to Xiao Lin Shi's tiny hands. Gripping its leg, she towered over the pleading old woman.

"When you and your precious grandson laughed at my untimely death... did you ever imagine you'd die by his hands today?"

With that, the wooden stool crashed down on the old woman.

"Ah—" The old woman tried to dodge, but her limbs felt glued to the floor. She could only watch as the stool struck her.

The stool landed on her hands, then her legs. The excruciating pain left her speechless.

Kneeling before her, Xiao Lin Shi smiled with false innocence. In Zhao Wenqi's voice, she cooed, "Grandmother, you love me so much... You'll forgive me, won't you?"

The old woman stared in horror as her once beloved grandson stood, walked out, and even thoughtfully shut the door behind him.

Driven by vengeful energy, Zhao Wenqi's body floated toward Zhao Ming's study.

Tonight, Zhao Ming and Su Yao still slept together.

Su Yao dreamed of her first days in the capital, arriving to seek shelter with her aunt at the Zhao estate, and seeing Xiao Lin Shi there.

Her aunt had told Xiao Lin Shi to stay and become her cousin's concubine. Su Yao had been overjoyed.

But Xiao Lin Shi's disdainful look had swept over her as if she were dirt.

Not only had Xiao Lin Shi refused, she'd thrown Su Yao and her aunt and uncle out of the Zhao estate.

Her bundle had been tossed to the ground, intimate garments spilling out for all to mock.

As her aunt screamed curses outside the gates, Su Yao swore to herself: She wouldn't leave the capital. She'd stay!

Su Yao woke with a start, turning to the man beside her. Now, she had not only stayed in the capital but had also gained everything Xiao Lin Shi once possessed.

The man was hers now. The Zhao matriarch's position would soon be hers as well.

Her enemy's son was ruined, while her own son, in contrast, would become her cousin's favorite child.

Everything was perfect.

Then—tiny, ice-cold hands closed tight around her throat.

Gasping for air, Su Yao thrashed and scratched at the small but impossibly strong fingers.

Zhao Ming was startled awake, seeing his son choking his cousin, and hurriedly intervened.

His hand had barely grasped the slender little arm when the icy touch made him shudder.

Xiao Lin Shi didn’t strangle Su Yao to death but instead flung her to the ground just before she lost consciousness.

The candles in the room suddenly ignited, their flames glowing an eerie green.

Zhao Ming watched as his son stiffly climbed off the bed, his blood ran cold as he immediately realized something was wrong. Being worldly-wise, he remained calm and asked, "Who are you? Whatever you want, you can tell me."

"Of course, I want you all dead."

Xiao Lin Shi's soft voice spoke through Zhao Wenqi's mouth, and Zhao Ming's expression turned horrified. "Qiao Niang!"

Wasn't she supposed to be sealed in the coffin by Daoist Master Jingyun?

Daoist Master Jingyun had clearly said that once a soul was nailed down, it couldn’t break free, enduring daily torment as if burning in flames, and would disperse after a dozen years.

Had someone released her?

No, he had always sent people to guard Xiao Lin Shi’s grave. Before tonight, no one had approached the grave.

Then how had she escaped?

Su Yao also came to. Hearing their exchange, she lunged at the small figure stepping off the bed. "What have you done to my son? He’s just a child! Let him go! If you have any grievances, take them out on me!"

Xiao Lin Shi laughed. She loved scenes like this—watching the woman who had stolen everything from her, like some gutter rat, quiver in terror and despair. How delightful.

"Don’t worry. How could I harm such a small child? Of course, I won’t hurt him."

As she spoke, she reached out her hand, and a dagger flew to her hand.

"I’ve always had a question no one could answer. Today, you can answer it for me." Xiao Lin Shi approached Su Yao, staring at the woman whose face was full of panic yet still remained beautiful.

"You said I made you lose a baby. When did I ever do such a thing?"

Su Yao’s eyes flickered, involuntarily glancing at Zhao Ming, who sat paralyzed on the bed.

"I—"

Before she could think of an excuse, the dagger in Xiao Lin Shi’s hand suddenly reversed, slashing deeply across her face.

The deep wound looked like a grinning mouth.

"Ah—!" Su Yao screamed at the sight of the gash marring her son’s face.

"I’ll give you one more chance. Tell me the truth—when did I ever kill your child?"

"You didn’t! It wasn’t you! I lied to Cousin! I got rid of the baby deliberately, just to make him pity me!" Su Yao screamed.

Zhao Ming, who had been struggling, suddenly froze, staring in disbelief at the terrified, tear-streaked woman.

His resentment toward Xiao Lin Shi had begun with that aborted boy. Now, he was being told… she hadn’t done it?

"How clever. One unborn child got you everything you have today. No wonder the son you bore is so... special." Xiao Lin Shi praised mockingly.

"I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! I just didn’t want to be sent back to my hometown!"

"You won’t return to your hometown. Your dream will come true—you’ll stay in the capital until death." Xiao Lin Shi cooed softly before driving the dagger into her belly and twisting it.

The wound wasn’t fatal, just excruciating for a woman who had lived in comfort all these years.

Losing interest in Su Yao, Xiao Lin Shi turned to Zhao Ming, held by vengeful energy.

"Husband, what did I ever do to wrong you that you would seek my life?"

Zhao Ming denied desperately. "Qiao Niang, it was that scheming bitch who misled me! I was deceived!"

Xiao Lin Shi ignored his excuses, moving to the bedside. "No, you weren’t deceived. You couldn’t wait for me to disappear. You even used our own son—didn’t you say so yourself?"

"No! I had no choice! Let me explain!"

"Fine. Speak. I’m listening." Xiao Lin Shi sat beside Zhao Ming, the dagger trailing along his neck. "If you lie, I’ll cut off a piece of your flesh. Like this."

She sheared off a strip of flesh from his neck.

Zhao Ming endured the pain, sweat beading on his brow. "I was forced! It was Xue Mingtang who wanted you dead!"

"Why?"

Zhao Ming swallowed hard, suddenly realizing the truth might not save him either.

But Xiao Lin Shi gave him no chance to reconsider—another piece of flesh was hacked off.

Zhao Ming suddenly understood: tonight would be his last.

"Qiao Niang, for all our years together, I’ll tell you everything. Just give me a quick death."

"Of course…"

"Because your elder brother was killed by Xue Mingtang. He wanted access to the forbidden vault, so he used me to get close to your brother. Then he controlled him, forcing him to open the vault, which led to the Lin family’s exile."

"So it was to root out the family."

"Yes… But I was forced!"

Xiao Lin Shi reached out, stroking Zhao Ming’s cheek. "How could you have been forced? You’re so clever. When you introduced my brother to Xue Mingtang, you must have foreseen this. He must have promised you great rewards—promotions, wealth, and freedom from our marriage."

Though she had never truly understood her husband, they had spent nearly twenty years together. She knew him well.

"Please, my dear wife."

Xiao Lin Shi sighed. "Husband, do you know? On the day you sealed me in that coffin, I was in so much pain. I begged you over and over for mercy, but you didn’t. You forced me, step by step, into becoming a wrathful spirit. Everything tonight is the retribution you asked for."

She set down the dagger, but the resentment around her transformed into countless blades, stripping Zhao Ming’s flesh. Amid his screams, she laughed hysterically.

By near dawn, Xiao Lin Shi finally stopped. She lay on the bed, leaving Zhao Wenqi’s body. The boy’s breathing returned to normal, still deep in sleep.

She smiled at the child before floating through the door.

Tendrils of green mist rose from her feet. Before vanishing from the Zhao residence, Xiao Lin Shi stared toward Zhao Wenyue’s courtyard.

Pulled by the smoke, she returned to the place she had visited before. The fox still sat on the stool, a yellow talisman inscribed with characters clutched in its paw over three burning incense sticks.

A Chan looked at Xiao Lin Shi, now completely transformed into a vengeful ghost, her voice calm and gentle. "Auntie, have you had your vengeance?"

"Aunt? You’re Ah Chan… No—who are you?"

Ah Chan answered, "The Ah Chan you knew is gone forever. Before she died, she lent me her name and body."

Xiao Lin Shi murmured, "So that's how it was."

"Daybreak is coming. Auntie, it's time for your journey to the underworld."

"Wait." Xiao Lin Shi suddenly called out to Ah Chan.

Ah Chan tilted her head and looked at her.

"Zhao Ming told me that Xue Mingtang controlled my elder brother, used him to open the forbidden vault, and destroyed the Lin family. You... must be careful in the future."

"Understood. Travel safely, Auntie." Ah Chan lit the paper inscribed with Xiao Lin Shi's birth date and time with incense. The green smoke that had confined Xiao Lin Shi's ghost condensed into a vortex, devouring her vengeful spirit completely until she vanished without a trace.

The yellow paper turned to ash in Ah Chan's hand, the flames licking her claws without any sensation of burning.

She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, the three incense sticks before her were still burning. The yellow paper pressed beneath the bowl had turned to ashes, scattered on the ground.

She stepped on the ashes, grinding them underfoot until nothing remained.

Daybreak.