Chapter 22: The Long Letter

Wei Li slept soundly and comfortably, but suddenly sensed something was amiss. She awoke with a start to find the room empty. Slipping on her shoes and stockings, she prepared to head to the inn to listen to stories, when, without warning, a hand gripped her ankle tightly. Looking down, she could see clearly it was a woman’s hand—soft and delicate—but the face was a ghastly horror, with shreds of flesh dangling loosely from her cheeks, her nose twisted and broken, only her eyes intact and unblemished, while a rank stench, like from a cellar, wafted up.

Wei Li frowned at the grotesque heap before her. At last, the thing spoke: “Help… help me…”

“You’re already like this—can you even be saved?” Wei Li replied.

“No… no, it’s not like that… I wasn’t always… always this way…” The woman clung desperately to Wei Li’s ankle. “Help my sister. She’s dying…”

“If you have trouble, go to the police. If you’re sick, see a doctor. Why come to me?” Wei Li shook her off with a kick and made for the door.

“I am Zhou Ruo, once a famed singer, and I am very wealthy. If you save my sister, all my fortune will be yours!”

Zhou Ruo’s desperate cries halted Wei Li in her tracks. She tilted her head and asked, “Are you serious?”

Zhou Ruo led her to a dilapidated spot deep in the eastern hills of the city—a wasteland of rotting corpses and circling vultures. But amid the decay stood an ancient house. Wei Li pushed open the door; inside, the décor was unexpectedly exquisite. Zhou Ruo pointed to a vase on the bookshelf. When Wei Li touched it, a hidden passage opened.

Without hesitation, Wei Li descended into the passage. It was dark and reeked of blood, yet she pressed on unfazed. The tunnel seemed endless. Suddenly, she stepped on something. Pulling out her phone for light, she saw it was a shriveled female corpse, crawling with insects.

She ventured further to a large chamber smeared with dried blood, littered with seven or eight withered corpses—dead from massive blood loss, no doubt. The place had clearly been abandoned for some time. “Your sister is most likely dead,” Wei Li declared.

“No! It’s not possible!” Zhou Ruo began frantically searching the room.

Suddenly, Wei Li heard a slithering sound behind her. Turning, she saw a figure—shriveled, covered in dried blood, but the tangled hair suggested it was a girl. In her eyes, Wei Li glimpsed a flicker of hope; the girl’s blood-stained lips parted in a gruesome plea. “Help… help me…”

Zhou Ruo was overjoyed at the sight. “That’s my sister, Zhou Ran!”

Wei Li recoiled instinctively from the blood, filth, and maggots covering the girl, but this simple retreat was a cruel blow to Zhou Ran, who, having glimpsed salvation, crawled desperately toward Wei Li, muttering, “Help me, help me…”

“Zhou Ran?” Wei Li called.

Hearing her name, hope rekindled in Zhou Ran’s eyes. Hoarsely, she responded, “Yes!”

Wei Li frowned. “Can you stand?” Looking at her filthy, pitiful state, she truly wanted nothing to do with her.

“My leg is broken…”

Wei Li grimaced in frustration, but for the sake of money, she reached out and helped Zhou Ran up. The foul stench overwhelmed her, but with a grimace, she dragged Zhou Ran out of the passage. Fortunately, the well outside was not yet dry. Wei Li drew several buckets of water, not bothering to warm it, and poured it directly over Zhou Ran.

Gradually, the blood and filth washed away, the stench and maggots disappeared down the drain, and Zhou Ran’s snowy white skin emerged. She scrubbed her face vigorously until, soon enough, a fresh-faced girl of eighteen or nineteen stood before Wei Li.

“Thank you,” Zhou Ran said, looking up at her, gratitude shining in her dark eyes.

Suddenly, footsteps sounded closer and closer. Zhou Ruo’s face was instantly gripped by panic. “It’s bad—he’s back!”

Wei Li didn’t wait to find out who “he” was. She hurried Zhou Ran upstairs into a small room and closed the door behind them. The sound of footsteps ascending the stairs echoed in Wei Li’s ears. She covered Zhou Ran’s mouth to stifle any whimpers.

Through the crack beneath the door, Wei Li saw the man’s shoes splattered with blood. As she slowly raised her gaze, their eyes met by chance—Wen Bai. How could it be him?

Wen Bai had clearly seen her as well; his half-smiling, half-mocking expression made Wei Li’s heart sink. He strode over, opened the door, and said, “I don’t recall inviting you to this feast.” Though his face was spattered with blood, he wore a gentleman’s air.

“Is it not permitted to come uninvited?” Wei Li emerged from the room, her attitude arrogant, as if she hadn’t even noticed Zhou Shen.

Wen Bai rested his hands on her slender shoulders. “This time, you came looking for me.”

“My lord, I have brought her back. Now you can let my sister go, can’t you?” Zhou Ruo fell to her knees beside Wen Bai.

Ignoring Zhou Ruo, Wen Bai walked behind Wei Li, opened the small room, and looked at Zhou Ran, who stared back in terror. “Humans,” he said indifferently, “are always so weak.” He slipped his arm around Wei Li’s shoulders, resting his chin atop her head and gently rubbing it. His eyes were devoid of affection—only cold indifference remained.

Wei Li swiftly produced a wrinkled yellow talisman and slapped it onto Wen Bai’s forehead, chanting a spell as quickly as she could. But Wen Bai tore off the talisman with ease, his lips curling. “Talisman spells? In this day and age?” He held it up, and it burst into flames. “Wasn’t this a gift from me? Tell me, are you trying to seal me—or destroy me?”

A chill ran down Wei Li’s spine at the glint in Wen Bai’s eyes. Was he still the Wen Bai she knew?

Wen Bai’s hand pressed against Wei Li’s heart. “Don’t forget who gave you immortality.” With a sudden force, his hand pierced her flesh, gripping her heart. Wei Li’s body turned icy cold. She shoved him away, blood streaming from her chest, gritting her teeth against the pain.

The wind howled outside, leaves falling from treetops and striking the ground in a cacophony. Regaining her composure, Wei Li said calmly, “Let’s talk.”

“About what?”

“You want an immortal body—a vessel for your soul. I can give it to you.” Wei Li smiled at him. “A new body every few decades, swapping when trouble arises, always able to feel your heart beating in your chest. I rather enjoy it.”

Wen Bai’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What do you want in return?”

“I want Ah Zhong dead—utterly annihilated, body and soul!” Wei Li’s gaze did not waver. “I know she’s Tang Ying. She works for you. This trade should be easy.”

“Is that how you killed Qiu Shui back then?”

“That’s none of your concern. As long as Tang Ying is destroyed, I can be myself again—not some pawn!”

“You hate her so much—did she steal your beloved?” Wen Bai lifted her chin with a finger. “Tell me…”

“I loved him once!” Wei Li stepped back, arching an eyebrow at Zhou Ran. “Remember to let her go. When Tang Ying is destroyed, come find me!”

With that, she left. Wen Bai watched her departing back, a subtle smile playing at his lips.

Wei Li stayed at the Mountain God Temple for over a month. At last, on a bright and sunny afternoon, the fox appeared. He gazed plaintively at Wei Li, but she, recalling his fawning over Ah Zhong, was still annoyed and ignored him, basking in the sun. The fox transformed back to his true form and rubbed against her legs, explaining that Guangzong had long suspected something was wrong with Ah Zhong. He hadn’t asked Wei Li to return because the temple was under divine protection—Ah Zhong couldn’t enter. He’d hoped to resolve things before bringing Wei Li home, but hadn’t expected Ah Zhong to vanish without a trace. With the farce over, there was no reason to continue.

Resigned, Wei Li gathered the fox into her arms. The warm sunlight bathed them both, and before long, they drifted off to sleep.

When the fox awoke again, he found Guangzong’s resentful face staring down at him. With a start, the fox leapt up.

“I told you to bring Wei Li home, yet here you are napping?” Guangzong scolded.

“It was the sunshine—it was too comfortable!” The fox hesitated, then grumbled, “Why am I explaining myself to you?”

Their voices woke Wei Li. Rubbing her sleepy eyes, she broke into a smile at the sight of Guangzong. “Monk, what brings you here?”

“There’s a haunting at a house in the west of the city. They asked me to exorcise the ghost,” Guangzong replied, stepping out of the temple.

Wei Li brushed the fox off her stomach and scampered after him. “Monk, which family is holding the ceremony?”

Guangzong ignored her, clearly still annoyed.

Wei Li slipped her hand into his arm, leaning against him. “Monk, I missed you.”

Guangzong paused, but said nothing, continuing forward. Yet the townsfolk shot them curious glances—a monk, arm in arm with a young maiden—how improper! Wei Li thought their whispers were not without reason and was about to release his arm. But Guangzong gripped her hand tighter, straight-faced. “One who has Buddha in his heart cares not for the world’s opinions.”

Wei Li blushed, smiling to herself.

They arrived at a stately residence, where a tall, elegant woman was waiting at the door. Seeing Guangzong’s hand tightly holding Wei Li’s, she frowned slightly, but quickly masked it with a smile. “Senior brother, you’re finally here.”

“Senior… brother?” Wei Li looked the woman up and down. She was strikingly beautiful, her figure curvaceous. Despite the heavy makeup and long hair, she didn’t resemble a nun at all. “Can nuns keep their hair?”

“She’s Chang Shu, not a nun. Her father was a close friend of the abbot, but was unfortunately killed. The abbot raised her at Baima Temple, so she calls me senior brother.”

Guangzong released Wei Li’s hand and followed Chang Shu inside. Watching their figures—his tall, her graceful—Wei Li thought they made a perfect pair. Suddenly, the fox’s voice sounded beside her, “What a strong scent of jealousy!”