Chapter 46 “Wish You Well”

Chapter 46 "Wishing You Well"

Possessing a corpse to return to life?

That certainly sounds like something Xie Yan would do.

Years ago, I had heard of the formidable reputation of the Jiang State's Grand Preceptor. He was a master of sorcery and Gu magic, immensely learned in both astronomy and geography. Yet, he was known for his reclusive and eccentric nature, his whereabouts elusive, often wandering unpredictably and disappearing for years at a time. Not even the reigning Emperor could dictate his movements. How then did Xie Yan manage to summon him back so promptly from his distant travels?

Perhaps it was all just a coincidence. The Grand Preceptor's sudden appearance and Xie Yan's invitation might not harbor the sinister intentions Huai Xin suspected. I could only console myself with this thought.

Yet, a faint unease in my heart swirled like a massive whirlpool, expanding into boundless fear.

Back in Chou Yunqing's secret room, I hadn't thoroughly examined that ancient book of spells, a lapse I now regretted.

I wondered if the Grand Preceptor was truly as miraculous as the rumors claimed—whether he could discern that Chou Yunqing's body now housed Feng Jiuyue's consciousness, or if he possessed the heaven-defying ability to expel me from Chou Yunqing's form.

Though I resented the thought of all my efforts being in vain, if I didn't attend today's meeting, Xie Yan would never relent without achieving his desired outcome. Sooner or later, he would surely arrange for me to meet the Grand Preceptor.

I knew Xie Yan all too well: obstinate, self-important, and aloof.

Once he set his mind on something, no one could gainsay him.

"Young master, please take leave from the Crown Prince and tell him you have urgent business back in Yuanzhou," Huai Xin pleaded anxiously, his brow tightly furrowed with worry.

"I'm truly afraid His Highness might harm you. You have no idea how terrifying he can be when he flies into a rage. Huai Xin is genuinely scared. If anything happens to you, how could I ever face the master and mistress?"

I didn't want to go either—it was clearly a trap, a banquet from which I might not return intact.

I wanted to refuse, but would our esteemed Crown Prince permit it?

I knew Xie Yan's temperament too well: he did not take no for an answer. If I refused, he would only grow more suspicious of my connection to the deceased Feng Jiuyue, subjecting me to endless tests. It was better to go this once and put an end to his suspicions.

With that in mind, I reassured Huai Xin, "Though I bear a striking resemblance to the young master of the Feng family, I am three years his junior and have lived in Yuanzhou all my life. His Highness, with his extensive reach, can easily verify my background in Yuanzhou and differentiate me from Feng Jiuyue."

"Huai Xin, don't worry too much."

"As for something as absurd as corpse possession, it has never happened since ancient times. The Grand Preceptor may not possess such heaven-defying abilities. Rest assured, I'll return soon."

"No," Huai Xin insisted, still clutching my sleeve desperately. "Huai Xin cannot let you go alone. I must accompany you to protect you at all times."

He was resolute, refusing to let go unless I agreed. Reluctantly, I nodded. "Then come along."

In truth, if Xie Yan was determined to act against me, even ten Huai Xins would be no match for him. Despite his elegant appearance, his martial prowess was formidable. But Huai Xin's loyalty was sincere, and I couldn't bear to let him down or dampen his spirits.

I returned to my room and changed into a plain white robe. Staring into the mirror, I gazed intently at the reflection—pale face, dark hair, faint pink lips, and delicate eyebrows. Beneath the robe, my skin was pale and sickly, and hidden in my wide sleeves was a sharp blade, emitting a cold gleam.

If my identity was exposed tonight, this would be my last opportunity.

I had once planned to remain by Xie Yan's side as an attendant, meticulously plotting his downfall, carefully scheming to make him fall from grace, stripping him of everything he had painstakingly built over the years. Such well-planned revenge would have brought me immense satisfaction.

But today's events had upended all my plans.

If the Grand Preceptor revealed my identity, Xie Yan would not go easy on me. I still remembered the cool touch of his fingers on my back after our chess game, the intense desire burning in his eyes—like a starved lone wolf facing tempting prey.

Rather than being imprisoned under the guise of his affection, reduced to a highly favored plaything, I would take his life tonight.

"Sorry," I whispered, tracing the right corner of the reflection's eye as if reaching across time to touch that gentle, serene youth.

"Young master, His Highness's sedan chair has been waiting at the gate for some time," Huai Xin urged from outside. I hid the blade in my sleeve and stepped out calmly.

Xie Yan's sedan chair was just as it was three years ago—octagonal and exquisite, with bells tinkling softly in the night breeze. The bronze metal reflected the moonlight, its yellowish hue steeped in age.

I remembered crying here in anguish, hurling a porcelain cup at Xie Yan's cold, refined face. I also recalled him binding my hands behind my back to keep me from scratching an itchy wound.

Back then, I had wept and told him that if he didn't like me at all, he shouldn't take advantage of my feelings to bully me. He never gave a direct answer, instead diverting my attention.

Now, gazing at the frost-like moonlight on the palace path, I finally understood what he meant then.

Silence was an answer. Evasion was an answer.

All the betrayal and exploitation had been evident from the beginning—I just hadn't wanted to face it, lost in my own delusions.

How foolish I had been back then.

"Young Master Chou, we've arrived at the main hall."

The attendant's voice pulled me back from the memories of three years ago. The blade in my sleeve felt icy cold. I lowered my eyes and followed the attendant into the hall without showing any discomposure.

Xie Yan sat on the raised seat at the center of the hall. Tonight, he wore a dark brocade robe, his demeanor icy and imposing. One hand supported his forehead, eyes closed as if exhausted, his long lashes shading his cold gray pupils.

Hearing my footsteps, he slowly opened his eyes, his light-colored pupils first sparkling with surprise upon seeing me, then dimming like fireworks after they fade, vitality fading in an instant.

"This commoner, Chou Yunqing, pays respects to Your Highness."

"And to the Grand Preceptor."

I bowed according to etiquette, catching a glimpse of the Grand Preceptor in the guest seat. He was not as aged as I had imagined—instead, he was in the prime of life, tall and robust, but with hair and beard as white as an elderly man's.

Before Xie Yan could speak, the Grand Preceptor stared at me in astonishment, shaking his head as he approached. "So similar, so similar! I've never seen two people look so alike!"

"Wait," he scrutinized me closely, then frowned. "This one has no mole. The one from Moonlit Pavilion..."

He was cut off by Xie Yan, who seemed stirred by painful memories, his face turning grim. "Just determine whether this person is Feng Jiuyue."

"Very well," the Grand Preceptor said awkwardly, tucking his hands into his sleeves like a little old man. Stroking his long beard, he circled me, chanting under his breath. "Merely looking won't suffice. I must perform a ritual to see if this body is possessed by a stray soul."

My fingers curled nervously, but I met his gaze without showing fear. The outcome was still uncertain—I couldn't afford to panic and give Xie Yan any leverage.

The Grand Preceptor studied my expression carefully, searching for any flaw, but found nothing. He snorted coldly at me before turning to report to Xie Yan.

"Your Highness, visual inspection is insufficient. I must perform the ritual. If it is a stray soul, its true form will be revealed."

"Wait," Xie Yan said, uncharacteristically shedding his usual calm and indifference. "Will this ritual harm the spirit itself?"

A sly glint flashed in the Grand Preceptor's eyes. "If I said the ritual might cause slight harm to Young Master Feng's spirit, though not enough to dissipate it, would you still proceed, Your Highness?"

"No," Xie Yan decided instantly, his sword-shaped eyebrows furrowed deeply. "If it would cause him pain, then forget it."

Xie Yan looked utterly exhausted, dark circles under his eyes. The possibility of harm to the spirit seemed to weigh heavily on him, leaving a trace of lingering apprehension in his eyes.

It's all just an act, I thought, lowering my head and biting my lip hard to suppress a sob of fear.

The room fell into a dead silence, broken only by the Grand Preceptor's light chuckle.

Covering his mouth, he smiled like a cunning fox. "Alright, alright, why so serious? The ritual won't harm the spirit. You have nothing to worry about, Your Highness."

"Then proceed."

Assured, Xie Yan's worried expression vanished, replaced by his usual icy demeanor. His burning gaze lingered on the corner of my right eye, unwavering.

When the Grand Preceptor began his ritual, there was none of the playful mockery from his earlier jest—instead, an aura of sinister, almost demonic ruthlessness surrounded him.

He chanted unfamiliar incantations without pause, his fly-whisk tracing elegant, sword-like arcs in the air. With his eyes closed, he recited the spell intently, but then his murky dark eyes suddenly flew open, revealing a pair of unnatural, blood-red pupils.

In that instant, a fierce wind swept through the dense clouds outside, and a sudden storm broke out. A fierce whirlwind surged into the hall, instantly forming a massive vortex around me.

The Grand Preceptor truly had some skill—to summon such a sudden storm meant my doom was likely sealed. Slowly, I reached into my sleeve, my fingers brushing against the cold steel blade. Yet, instead of tensing, I relaxed, quietly waiting for the right moment and preparing myself for the exposure of my true identity.

The change came swiftly. The hurricane, which had lingered around me with destructive force, suddenly softened into a gentle breeze. It brushed past my fingertips, then wound its way to my ear, carrying with it the tender, whispered words of a youth: "I wish you well."

This—this was Chou Yunqing’s voice!

He even sounded so much like me, though he was three years younger, his voice still carrying the clear, boyish timbre of a boy.

The breeze gradually weakened after that, wrapping around me affectionately once more before taking the shape of a butterfly and flying out the window without a backward glance.

As the storm receded, everything returned to its initial deathly silence and chill stillness.

"Grand Preceptor, what is the result?"

Xie Yan’s voice held a barely noticeable tremble, and even his phoenix eyes seemed lit with a spark of hope, dotted with faint starlight, no longer dull and lifeless as before.

Knowing this was no time for jokes, the Grand Preceptor grew solemn and serious, his tone heavy with apology as he bowed slightly toward Xie Yan. "Your Highness, my apologies," he said regretfully.

He seemed about to offer some words of comfort, but Xie Yan cut him off. "No need to say more. You may leave."

The pressure around me lifted the moment the Grand Preceptor finished speaking. The nightmare that had plagued me for days had finally reached its perfect conclusion.

Not only had Chou Yunqing given me his most sincere blessing, but he had also quietly helped me defuse this sudden storm, allowing me to continue living as Chou Yunqing and giving me the chance to avenge my father.

From this day onward, Xie Yan would never again mistake me for Feng Jiuyue. He would know deeply that I am Chou Yunqing—and that Feng Jiuyue had died three years ago, reduced to a heap of cold bleached bones.

But I would appear before him day after day, relentlessly reminding him that Feng Jiuyue had once existed in his world—someone who had loved him deeply, only to be callously cast aside in the end.

If he truly loved me as much as he seemed to, he would surely be anguished by this.

At this thought, I couldn’t help but allow a faint, curling smile to touch my lips. Finally, I dared to lift my head and look directly at Xie Yan.

There he sat, alone on the high seat in the main hall, his brocade robes lavish and magnificent. The flickering candlelight in the hall fell only on him, illuminating the loneliness that clung to him—like a reclusive emperor in his twilight years, quietly awaiting the moment of his inevitable decline.

[Author's Note]

"I gained everything I once desired, but I lost my moonlight forever."