Their walk back to civilization drew stares. It was only to be expected, given their cargo. Even wrapped up in a sheet, its true nature was obvious to all. Most averted their gazes when Qian Shanyi met them - yet they gazed nonetheless.

She didn't enjoy having this much attention paid to her. It went contrary to what they came here to do - but it was also unavoidable. She talked to many of these men and women in their search for the ghost - and even if she remained evasive about her reasons, they would know what happened soon enough. Rumors spread quickly in these villages, and any death would be remarked on.

"At least handing off the body should go quickly," Qian Shanyi muttered, turning her head to address Linghui Mei. It was awkward to talk while carrying their makeshift gurney, but thankfully villagers gave them a large berth, and the road was quiet, so they could whisper to each other in relative privacy. "Though I am very much not looking forward to that painful conversion."

"Quickly?..." Linghui Mei's confused voice came from behind her. "You… won't stay for the vigil?"

"I have no desire to," Qian Shanyi said. "It always felt like a waste of time. Even more so now - we already know there is a ghost."

The tradition was ancient and refused to die off. There was no point in it, except sentimentality: the corpse's meridians became unsuitable for hosting a ghost only a few short hours after death. Spending a whole night alone with it was entirely unnecessary. But being an outer disciple of a sect came with some perks - and a cultivator vigil for your family was one of them.

It was an unwelcome obligation. She stood vigil fifteen times altogether, once for a friend of the family and the rest for the sect. The first time already bored her out of her mind. The second time she brought books to read, which made it far more tolerable.

It didn't miss her notice that, mysteriously, the schedules seemed to align such that it was a woman who was sent for the vigil four times out of five. The men were clearly far too busy to do their duty. That added an entirely separate dimension to her distaste.

"In this case, the circumstances play in my favor," Qian Shanyi continued. "It's expected that a cultivator would be paid handsomely for the service, and their family is poor. I doubt they will even ask."

"You won't even stay to console them?" Linghui Mei said. With her back turned, Qian Shanyi couldn't see her expression - but the tone of her voice sounded neutral and curious.

"Stay and console them how?" Qian Shanyi asked grimly. She shifted her hands on the handles of their makeshift gurney, adjusting for the slightly shifting weight of the corpse. "Their son is dead. Nothing I say will bring him back or make it better. This morning, they weren't even sure he was missing, and not simply out in some other village - and now I bring them his body? Whatever I say, their lives will be shattered."

They walked together quietly for a while, until the house of the Zhang family finally showed in the distance. They were poor enough they could not afford their own, isolated house - and instead lived together with two other families. Splitting the costs of repairing the roof must have made it easier.

"It's… not about fixing their lives, or bringing him back," Linghui Mei finally said. "It's about showing compassion. They are karmists - they would appreciate it."

Qian Shanyi didn't answer her right away. "I used to think that there was always some way to make it work, some argument I could make, no matter the circumstance," she finally admitted. "That if I was any better, any smarter, I would know the best words to choose. So that even if their lives would shatter, they could at least put them back together a little bit earlier. To soothe the pain somehow, to keep their hearts from tearing themselves to pieces. It's unpleasant to face the circumstances where I cannot."

Linghui Mei coughed awkwardly behind her. "You cannot actually believe that," she said. "To think that no matter what, there is always something you could say?"

"Why not? It fits my experience otherwise."

"Because it is insane. Nobody can hold themselves to such a standard."

"To cultivate is to rebel against the heavens. Who is to say what standards we can hold ourselves to except our own spirits?"

Once they came to the fence surrounding the house, Qian Shanyi unhooked a latch on the small gate with her foot, and gestured to the side with the same. "Let's set the body there, next to the gate," she said, "Bad luck to bring a body back through the house doors."

There really was no need to do it, either. It would only make her job harder.

"You spoke of how the Elders treated you in your own sect," Linghui Mei said, once the gurney was out of her hands. "If you truly believe this - why have you never managed to convince them otherwise?"

Qian Shanyi pursed her lips. "Who is to say? Perhaps I truly was inadequate. Inadequate at manipulation of fools, at least." She shook her head again, turning to head towards the house's doors. "I do not wish to speak of this any further. Guard the body until I can get this over with, and then we can at least have lunch."

Zhangs lived in Sorrowful Plum Orchard, another of the many villages that surrounded Sickle Springs. It was only half an hour away from Green Leaf - and so Qian Shanyi and Linghui Mei decided to return to their temporary home for a bath and lunch.

Linghui Mei stayed quiet all the way through, which left Qian Shanyi with nothing to do but mull over that earlier, absolutely miserable talk with the Zhangs. It went pretty much exactly as she expected it to - incomprehension followed by dead stares, gray faces of muted horror. Nobody cried, which somehow made it all the worse.

She was still thinking about it, when an unexpected presence drew her attention, just as she was crossing the gates of the Song estate.

Most curious. Why here?

She smiled slightly, making no other outward sign of having noticed. She could keep track of it from the kitchens just as easily, and if they got lucky…

Linghui Mei's hand barring her way snapped her out of her thoughts entirely. "Bath first," Linghui Mei said in a tone that brooked no argument. "I won't let you taint their kitchens."

Qian Shanyi rolled her eyes, but nodded. She felt quite filthy herself, after that crawl in the underground. "You need one yourself," she said, flicking Linghui Mei on the nose, and enjoying the horrified look she received back, Linghui Mei trying to scrub her nose off her face entirely with the back of her hand. "Help me get the water for it."

The Songs had a small bronze tub in a bathing house. Drawing water and heating it up took them most of an hour, especially since they had to do it twice. Qian Shanyi went first, and headed for the kitchens while Linghui Mei was busy with her own bath.

Qian Shanyi was surprised to find herself enjoying the cooking. There was little opportunity - or reason - to do so while they were on the move, and even if she wasn't making anything novel, something about the process felt peaceful, almost meditative. Perhaps the spirit of Three Obediences Four Virtues had started to rub off on her, or perhaps it was simply that with the weight of expectations taken off, she had little left to resent about the practice. She knew that she could make anything she wanted - or, indeed, nothing at all - and so even the simple routine of making some rice acquired the same charm as a good stretch before her daily cultivation.

That she could make every dish suit her tastes certainly helped.

Linghui Mei came to find her just before she was done, and they headed out into the gardens - Qian Shanyi with a bowl of stir-fried chicken, and Linghui Mei with one of pickled plums. The midday sun shone brightly in the sky, and at the edge of the estate, one of the farmhands was busy renewing the roof on a chicken coop. After spending most of their morning dealing with death and corpses, seeing some life was a pleasant change.

"Shanyi," Linghui Mei began, once they were settled down in front of the pond to watch the shuyu flock splashing around in the water. "I have been thinking. About that vigil?"

"Yes?"

"Would it not help us in other ways? If the ghost learns of it, of us bringing its body back to be buried, it might become less aggressive."

Qian Shanyi grimaced. "In theory, yes, but… Feh." She shook her head. Even setting aside her own desire to avoid it, the conclusion was quite clear. "No, even if you are right, it's simply too much time spent for far too little benefit. We don't even know if it visits its former family. Even if it does, the only way it would learn of our help is if it visits the house on that exact same night - and even then, it might misconstrue our intentions. It's a waste."

"Perhaps it would still hear of it… somehow," Linghui Mei said, giving Qian Shanyi a meaningful look.

"Ghosts have no ears to hear with," Qian Shanyi said grimly. "You think a farmhand would have known how to read lips?"

Linghui Mei shrugged and quietly went back to her food. Qian Shanyi did as well, though some of her appetite had vanished.

"I gave the Zhangs the spirit stones we found in that inheritance," she said, picking at her rice. "Maybe I should have asked you first, but…"

Linghui Mei smiled. "It's a kind gesture, and we do not struggle for money yet. How many were there?"

"Twenty-three," Qian Shanyi said. "More than a year's worth for them, I think, assuming they get a good price. It should help them somewhat, until they can get back on their feet."

If they could get back on their feet at all. Both of them were old, and without any other children. Without their son working the nearby farms and bringing in the pay, struggle would come for them sooner or later - and with it, deprivation and hunger.

"So what now?" Linghui Mei asked, once they were finished with their food.

"I want to give the rumors a bit of time to circulate," Qian Shanyi said. "Another hour or two, at least. Plenty of people saw us come back from the forest - if we are lucky, news of Zhuangtian's death might make his friends more willing to share anything they might know."

Movement caught Qian Shanyi's eye, and she glanced up at the balcony facing the garden. It led to the room of Song Hexiang - who had now leaned over the railing, looking over the farmland beyond with a bored look on her face. She wore a loose blue skirt, with a lighter blue ru over it - and a wide purple belt, one that fit her rather well.

"And in the meantime," Qian Shanyi said with a light hum, her piercing eyes boring into the woman. "There is one suspect I'd like to question first…"

Qian Shanyi had no real plans to question Song Hexiang - up until she felt Zhang Zhuangtian's ghost hiding deep below the earth just as they returned to the estate. That had moved her firmly to the very top of the priority list.

"Miss Song?" Qian Shanyi said, knocking on the farm daughter's door. "Could I have a minute of your time?"

Her spiritual energy senses were muffled by the door, but she still felt Song Hexiang slowly come closer, before stopping right in front of the door. She could even hear her breathing, if she focused. Song Hexiang stayed there for a good minute, neither moving to open the door nor leaving - perhaps making sure she was presentable. Qian Shanyi could tell that her arms moved, though not precisely where.

Qian Shanyi had barely talked with the girl over the past weeks they'd spent on the estate, except when they occasionally crossed paths for breakfast or dinner. With most of their time spent out in the forest - and the rest, visiting herbalists in Sickle Springs - there were few opportunities for it. It didn't help that Song Hexiang herself seemed to keep her distance, ever since their first night - and Qian Shanyi saw no reason to push her. The girl clearly tensed up any time someone else came into the room.

When it came to her life, Qian Shanyi knew almost nothing. Song Hexiang held some interest in fashion - Song Bo had often complained of the expense, and Qian Shanyi saw her vary the dresses she wore every day. She also knew she had some friends among the other large landholder families. It made for a poor foundation to a conversation, but she had to work with less before.

Finally, the door creaked open, and Song Hexiang's worried face appeared in the crack. "Honorable immortal?" Song Hexiang said, seeming surprised to find Qian Shanyi alone. "What… what is it?"

"Oh, it's really nothing serious," Qian Shanyi said, waving her off. "I was just wondering if you knew anyone that might be interested in purchasing some flowers?"

Song Hexiang gave her a confused look. "Flowers? I don't… know anything about flowers, honorable immortal."

Qian Shanyi chuckled slightly. "Ah, I am afraid I am not explaining it very well," she said, feigning embarrassment. "Why don't you come to our rooms? It will be easier to show you."

Song Hexiang raised an eyebrow at her, but shrugged and followed after. Their rooms were just on the other side of the hallway.

"We've been gathering various herbs in the forests, but it's a little difficult to find those willing to buy some of them," Qian Shanyi explained on the way. "I heard that putting flowers in your hair is all the rage in the east right now - so perhaps some of your friends might be interested?"

She pushed the door to their room open and gestured towards the lines of drying flowers out by the window, stepping aside to let Song Hexiang enter. "We have helekithes, allum, sunscythes, olovia lillies…"

As she talked, Qian Shanyi watched Song Hexiang carefully out of the corner of her eye. She clearly seemed reluctant to follow along, entirely disinterested, merely humoring the powerful stranger in her house - but as soon as Qian Shanyi mentioned sunscythes, Song Hexiang's gaze whipped around, focusing on the drying lines.

"Ah?" Qian Shanyi said with mock curiosity, pausing with her hand in mid air. That reaction was so obvious she simply had to comment on it. "Is Miss Song perhaps interested in some herself?"

"Yes… These ones," Song Hexiang said, gesturing towards the lines. She finally came further into the room, instead of staying beyond the entrance, steps quick and self-assured. "What did you say they were called?"

"The yellow ones? Sunscythes. Please, feel free to take a closer look."

Qian Shanyi leaned against the wall right next to the door, closing it quietly behind Song Hexiang. The girl didn't even notice.

They made sure to move the freshest flowers to the front for just this demonstration, ones they managed to gather here and there while chasing down leads over the past few days. Frankly, even those were quite wilted - after all, they never intended to keep the flowers fresh in the first place. Sunscythes stood out among the rest, having been picked just today.

As far as deceptions went, her words couldn't hold up to even a bit of scrutiny - but she only needed to get Song Hexiang in the room, to confirm her suspicions. The farmgirl's own tunnel vision would do the rest.

"Yes, this would be perfect," Song Hexiang said, taking one of the sunscythes off the line, and putting it into her hair. She was so absorbed in her work that all her previous wariness was gone entirely. "It - works well with my ru, don't you think?"

The door opened just as Qian Shanyi was about to respond, Linghui Mei entering with a tray stacked with a sweet-smelling teapot and a set of cups.

"I do like the color contrast," Qian Shanyi replied to Song Hexiang honestly. She reached over, and once again closed the door behind her disciple. "Yellow on black, over blue. Almost like a sun rising above an ocean."

It wasn't the best improvisation she had ever seen, but Qian Shanyi could tell that Song Hexiang had some acting talent. Her eyes gave her away - they burned with a deep, overwhelming need that simply didn't fit with her casual words.

Song Hexiang smiled, gave Linghui Mei an acknowledging nod, and turned back to the drying line, quickly gathering up all the sunscythes. "How much did you say these would cost me?"

She tried to sound casual, but that hidden tension in her tone came through far too clearly.

"Take as many as you'd like. Consider this as a free sample - they really aren't that hard to get, for a cultivator," Qian Shanyi said, gesturing to Linghui Mei, who was setting the tea set up on a small table. "Please, enjoy the tea as well."

"I will, thank you," Song Hexiang said, looking around the room, holding the thick bundle of flowers against her chest. "Is there… somewhere I can put these?"

"You can take one of our bags. Do you think your friends would like them as well?"

"Hm? Oh, yes, I guess," Song Hexiang said distractedly, putting the flowers away. "I'll…ask around. After the ghost festival."

"Hmm. Was this what you were searching for in our rooms four days ago?"

Song Hexiang's false mask of cheer and excitement shattered like so much cheap china. Her furious glare buried itself into Qian Shanyi like a dagger into an enemy's throat. "What?"

Qian Shanyi met it with a polite smile. "I know you came into our rooms, miss Song," she said, keeping her tone light. "The only question is - why?"

It seemed that the Song temper ran in the family, for Song Hexiang's fingers clenched so tight around the bag that they went white. She hefted it, as if considering tossing it directly at Qian Shanyi's face. "Are you accusing me of being a thief?" she said, her face contorting into a furious grimace. "In my father's house?!"

"No, I don't believe I ever said that," Qian Shanyi said, inclining her head curiously. "I merely said you entered our room."

Linghui Mei glanced at Qian Shanyi, but she made a concealed gesture telling her disciple to stay quiet for now. Everything was still going more or less exactly as she expected it.

"And what if I did?!" Song Hexiang said, her tone rising higher. She stomped on the ground, and the floorboards squeaked slightly. "This was my mother's room - who are you to bar me from entering it?!"

Qian Shanyi blinked twice. Getting caught up in all these accusations was entirely the wrong move. In fact, making them belayed Song Hexiang's own inexperience - it made it hard to argue with her, but it also made her far too predictable, and thus easy to manipulate. An easy trap to fall into.

"Bar you?" Qian Shanyi said calmly. "Oh no, I was merely curious. You've done nothing wrong, at least as far as I know."

Song Hexiang glared at her some more, but anger without a compliant target was very difficult to sustain. "Fine, yes, I was here," she said with a dismissive snort, and crossed her hands on her chest. "A friend of mine told me about these beautiful flowers. I just wanted to see if you had any, but until today, you had none. What is the problem with that?"

"Hmm. I thought you said you didn't know anything about flowers?"

"How should I know what I did or didn't say?!" Song Hexiang burst out, stomping her foot again. "My friend only told me that these ones are pretty. That's all I know."

"And does that friend's name happen to be Zhang Zhuangtian?"

As soon as that name left Qian Shanyi's lips, Song Hexiang gasped, her face going white as a sheet of paper, and backed up against the opposite wall.

"How… How do you know about Ah Zhuangtian?" she said, her breath catching. The bag of flowers she had been holding until now had slipped out of her fingers, falling on the ground with a dull creak of cloth and leather.

Ah Zhuangtian, huh. Girl, how transparent could you be?

Qian Shanyi shook her head in dismay. She wanted to provoke a reaction, but the eyes staring back at her were full of nothing but blind, unproductive terror.

"I am a cultivator, miss Song," she said, shrugging. "How could I ever hope to reach the Heavens if I didn't know a thing or two? But you have no need to worry. Everything we say will stay strictly between us."

Linghui Mei took that moment to pour two cups of tea, rising to hand one over to Qian Shanyi. Song Hexiang's gaze snapped to her, merely reacting to the movement.

"You don't have to worry about my assistant either," Qian Shanyi said, catching the farm daughter's eyes, even as she accepted her cup with a grateful nod. "I swear on her behalf."

Linghui Mei sat down on the edge of the bed, rolling her eyes at Qian Shanyi as she took a sip from her cup. They discussed this little scheme before they went through with it, of course - and Linghui Mei thought the simplest thing to do was to take a little peek through her memories when she went to sleep.

Thankfully, she didn't insist on that horrible idea when Qian Shanyi rejected it out of hand.

<Just ask her,> Linghui Mei signed, giving Qian Shanyi a miffed look.

With her back turned to Song Hexiang, Linghui Mei could sign as much as she liked without being seen - but Qian Shanyi had no such luxury. <Shush,> she signed back, concealing the motions by pretending to work some tension out of her wrists. <Let me work.>

There was a process to these things. If she simply confronted Song Hexiang directly, she would simply deny everything - and then getting any information out of her would be all but impossible.

Song Hexiang's gaze darkened, flickering between Qian Shanyi, Linghui Mei, and the closed door. A bird backed into the corner of its cage - paranoid and tense, yet nonetheless striking, some hidden cunning shining deep within her eyes.

In some ways, Qian Shanyi felt a certain sense of sisterhood with the girl. She could almost imagine herself stuck in the same cage - a house controlled by her father, safe, yet also stifling - no place to go and no one to freely meet, no way to sharpen her skills without cutting her tongue on the blades of conversation. Was it any wonder that Song Hexiang was so transparent? Without the harsh rays of the sun, why would her soul develop any color? If things were different, would Qian Shanyi not have been much the same?

Then again, Qian Shanyi had never been this oblivious, her parents loved her dearly, and she never had such a temper. Perhaps this feeling was nothing more than her own run-away imagination.

"What do you want?" Song Hexiang said after a tense, silent minute. Her terror started to slowly fade, that earlier anger beginning to creep back into her voice. "To blackmail me? Is this it?"

"I have no interest in blackmail. I was merely curious why you visited our rooms." Qian Shanyi reached over, opened the door, and pushed it away from her with one finger, letting it swing freely until it clacked against the wall. "If you do not trust me, you are always free to leave."

There was no danger of their conversation being overheard, door or no door - aside from them, the house was entirely empty. Even the grandmother had left - according to the farmhands, to play mahjong with her friends in the village. They could have even had this same conversation in Song Hexiang's own rooms - but luring her here, outside of her element, and then offering her a way to leave was all part of the plan. A good manipulation always relied on a few props. If she chose to stay anyways - then psychologically, it would be her own decision, which should make her more willing to talk.

Song Hexiang stayed in place for a moment longer, before bending down, her posture completely stiff. She grabbed her bag of flowers off the floor, and silently headed for the door. Her steps grew more and more confident with every passing moment, back straightening out - until she could have passed for a princess taking a stroll through her very own kingdom.

"Of course -" Qian Shanyi said, just as Song Hexiang was about to pass by her. "- if you need them because of pregnancy, then perhaps I could offer a far simpler solution - one that would solve your problem by this very evening."

That halted Song Hexiang in her tracks. "What are you implying?" she hissed through her teeth, refusing to even look at Qian Shanyi. Her cheeks, so white but mere moments before, started to blush.

"I have implied very little so far, honorable Miss Song," Qian Shanyi continued, not moving away from her spot. "I merely made an offer - one you can accept freely, with no strings attached." She shrugged with one shoulder. "Of course, perhaps I am wrong, and such an offer is unwelcome. If I have spoken rashly, then I did not mean to offend."

"Why would you even help me?" Song Hexiang said bitterly, finally looking Qian Shanyi directly in the eyes. "I've seen how you talk to my father."

Qian Shanyi couldn't help but laugh. Was that why she always seemed so tense? "Honorable miss Song, I must admit, I do not like your father very much at all," she said, shaking her head. "I was merely being polite for the sake of not offending my host. I understand how you could confuse the two."

"She told me he is a worthless piece of dung," Linghui Mei chimed in from her spot on the bed.

Qian Shanyi frowned, softly glaring at her disciple, only to receive a dismissive shrug in return. "I do not believe I ever said those exact words, no."

The assistance was well-timed, so really, she would have liked to congratulate her, but that would ruin some of the image she was trying to sell.

Song Hexiang bit her lip, then stepped closer to Qian Shanyi, grabbing her by the shoulder. "You will never tell him anything about this," she said, staring directly into her eyes. "Swear this."

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. "Of course."

Song Hexiang closed her eyes, her hand trembling where it held onto the bag of sunscythes - before she spun around, tossing it away into a corner with the full force of her delicate hands. The bag slammed into a wall with a soft thud.

"Fine," she said, throwing her hands up in the air. "Speak."

"There is a simple medical technique," Qian Shanyi explained. "I can use my spiritual energy to force your body into contractions, which will expel the fetus. This will be somewhat painful, as your body will try to reject the foreign spiritual energy, but it isn't in itself dangerous."

Frankly, it barely even deserved being called a technique. It was merely a very simple injection of spiritual energy through several acupoints, though one that required some degree of precision to execute. It was the only medical technique that Qian Shanyi was ever taught, mostly because Lu Anren, their sect's healer, didn't want to bother with outer disciples getting pregnant at inconvenient times. Midwife work, he said.

Lu Anren called the technique "Life Severing Blade", which she always felt sounded far too intimidating. She never bothered mentioning that name when she assisted their sect's actual midwife. "A medical technique" was more than enough.

Song Hexiang crossed her arms on her chest, waiting for Qian Shanyi to finish her explanation. "Will it work?"

"I haven't heard of it ever failing."

Song Hexiang looked away. "What do I have to do?" she said quietly.

Qian Shanyi nodded respectfully and reached over to close the door again. Even if the house was empty now, best not to take easily avoidable risks. "Lie down on the bed, and take off your clothes," she said, gesturing to Linghui Mei to pour another cup of tea.

"My clothes?" Song Hexiang said, blushing.

Linghui Mei got up off the bed, her lips twitching in annoyance. "Just do what you are told," she said, "Or we'll leave."

"Mei!" Qian Shanyi snapped at her, before hurriedly turning back to Song Hexiang. "My apprentice speaks nonsense. I simply need to see your stomach, nothing more. If you aren't comfortable, or want to take time to consider it -"

Song Hexiang glared at Linghui Mei, ignoring Qian Shanyi's words entirely. "I don't want to consider anything," she growled, and tore at her belt, quickly unbuckling it and tossing it aside. "I want to get this over with."

Her ru followed after the belt, tossed casually alongside the bed, and soon Song Hexiang flopped down on their bed, her dress hiked up to her chin.

Qian Shanyi sighed, approaching her. She'd have words with Linghui Mei later, but in the moment, if anger helped Song Hexiang get past shame and humiliation, then all the better.

"How far along are you?" Qian Shanyi said, placing her palm on her stomach.

Her spiritual energy spilled forth, dancing across the skin, searching for the acupoints. Their positions tended to be consistent, but there were still individual variations. Qian Shanyi was confident in her skills, even if she had only actually used the technique a couple times before - but it was best to go slow.

"I don't know," Song Hexiang muttered, looking away. Blush started to quickly come back to her cheeks. "Five months, I think."

By the size of her stomach, Qian Shanyi would never have guessed that. She could barely see the bulge, and Song Hexiang was quite thin otherwise - but she supposed everyone was different. Some people simply didn't show.

While she was busy with her examination, Linghui Mei came around the side of the bed, offering Song Hexiang her cup. "Your tea," she said bluntly.

"I am not thirsty," Song Hexiang muttered.

"The herbs will help you relax and numb the pain," Qian Shanyi explained. "Please drink it."

They brewed it light, suited for an ordinary person. For Qian Shanyi and Linghui Mei, it would have almost no effect.

Song Hexiang frowned, but accepted the cup, propping herself on one hand to do so. She watched Qian Shanyi cautiously - not that there was much to see. Without spiritual energy senses, the process was almost entirely invisible.

"Lie back, and try to relax," Qian Shanyi said after a good five minutes. "I am just about ready."

"How long will this take -" Song Hexiang began, but Qian Shanyi did not give her time to finish. Her spiritual energy spiked, burrowing through the acupoints and spiritual energy pores, and Song Hexiang spasmed, curling up on herself as if Qian Shanyi had just kicked her directly in the stomach. A pained gasp escaped her mouth, tears beginning to well up in her eyes.

"There we go," Qian Shanyi said, stepping away from the bed. She picked up a thin blanket off one of the side cupboards and laid it on top of her, to give her back a measure of modesty. "Contractions should begin within the next hour or two. I would advise you to stay in our rooms until then, so that we could monitor you just in case something goes wrong. It's unlikely, but we have pills for most side effects."

She only had general healing pills - nothing specific, but in a way, that was for the best. With the right dosage, the body would know how to fix itself.

"That's it?" Song Hexiang gasped, wiping the tears from her eyes. The pain should have been already fading - without any actual injury, there was no reason for it to persist. Merely minor meridians temporarily overstrained by the overwhelming flow of foreign spiritual energy.

"Pretty much," Qian Shanyi said, "Mei, find us some towels, some water… More tea wouldn't hurt either."

"Of course, master."

"No towels," Song Hexiang said, grimacing. She tried to sit up, but with the nerves in her body still rocked by spasms, all she could do was futilely reach out towards Linghui Mei, even as the jiuweihu turned around and left the room. "It will leave - evidence -"

"I'll say I cut myself during training," Qian Shanyi said, gently pushing Song Hexiang back, so that she would lie down. "There is no need for you to worry about such small things."

Song Hexiang collapsed down on her back. Her face relaxed, some tension leaking out of her shoulders. "So… it's all over?" she said, as if she could not believe the words that were coming out of her own mouth.

"In a few hours," Qian Shanyi confirmed. "Though you might have some pain for another month."

More tears welled up in Song Hexiang's eyes - but these ones came from a pain of a different kind. She rolled on her side, and began to cry. It was eerily silent - the tears rolled, soaking the blanket beneath her, and her chest shook, yet not even a single whine had left her throat.

Qian Shanyi gave her space. They weren't friends - if she tried to comfort her directly, she was worried it would do more harm than good. Linghui Mei came by, bringing some towels with her - before Qian Shanyi dismissed her as well. They didn't need two people to watch over Song Hexiang, and Linghui Mei still hadn't had anything more to eat than desert.

While she waited, Qian Shanyi amused herself by keeping track of Zhang Zhuangtian's ghost. It still hadn't left - though it moved around, yet never rising above the ground. It almost seemed like a newlywed, far too nervous to come meet his wife - though that was probably nothing more than humanising projection. After multiple days of starvation, it was hard to imagine the ghost still being driven by such delicate emotions.

Then again, the man did manage to drag himself with broken legs. Perhaps he stood above the norms.

Eventually even Song Hexiang ran out of tears. She sniffled, wiping her face with the corner of her blanket. "Thank you," she muttered quietly.

"It's really nothing," Qian Shanyi said. She had been expecting Song Hexiang to speak up eventually - those tears seemed to come more out of fear and anger long bottled up, than any acute problem.

In fact, she had been counting on it. "Though… If you'd like to talk, I do believe that it helps," Qian Shanyi continued innocently.

Perhaps it was a little mercenary to exploit the feelings of a vulnerable woman to fish for information. But the ghost was still right there, and would wait for nobody.

"I was so scared," Song Hexiang continued after a momentary silence, still sniffling. "If my father ever found out, I don't know what he would do."

"I could imagine."

Song Hexiang slowly rolled onto her other side, coming to face Qian Shanyi. Her face was still flushed, eyes red and puffy after her crying. "Is this how it always is?" she said, and gestured vaguely with one corner of the blanket. "The - you know."

That could have meant any of a dozen different things. "From what I've heard from others, it's different for different people," Qian Shanyi said, deciding to say nothing of substance instead of having to guess. "Though I've only ever assisted other midwives - so my experience is somewhat shallow."

Song Hexiang sniffled again. "I thought I was dying," she said, her face grimacing as if tears threatened to well up again - if there were any left. "I just…got sicker, and sicker, and there was no reason for it. Everything hurt. Some days it hurt so badly I couldn't even walk. My father sent me to that worthless Tang Jisheng, but he knew nothing at all."

No wonder she stayed up in her rooms so much.

"Your mother never told you how it would go?" Qian Shanyi said, trying to keep her tone as neutral as possible. She wasn't being judgemental, merely curious - but with someone in a state like this, even the smallest things could be misconstrued.

"She died when I was eight," Song Hexiang said. "I barely even remember her. It's been only my father since then."

"I'm sorry," Qian Shanyi said, and picked up the small tea kettle Linghui Mei left on the table. "More tea?"

Song Hexiang nodded, and sat up, hugging her knees. She had to adjust the blanket covering her. For a minute, they stayed silent, simply enjoying their tea.

"I take it that Zhang Zhuangtian was the father?" Qian Shanyi said finally, deciding to turn the conversation back to the topic at hand.

A shy smile came over Song Hexiang, seeming entirely out of place on the face that so often was filled with rage. "Yeah," she said.

"Would you like to talk about him? If you don't mind me asking, of course."

"You swear you won't tell my father?"

"Of course."

"Ah Zhuangtian is…" Song Hexiang continued. Her smile only grew as she talked. "He's the love of my life. I know I must sound like a foolish girl, but he truly is. He is smart, and so kind, and so, so talented… He even taught himself to read, all on his own. And the way he can sing…"

Qian Shanyi put a smile on her face as well. This happiness would never last - so just keep pushing forwards. "How did you two meet?"

"I heard him sing when I visited my friend in his village."

Qian Shanyi nodded again. Another piece of the puzzle slotting into place - Zhang Zhuangtian often worked as a farmhand for the Hans, the family friends of the Songs.

Suddenly, Song Hexiang's demeanor darkened. "We fell in love straight away, but of course my father would never approve," she said bitterly. "So we met in secret. And then… And then…" She sniffled again, burying her face in the crook of her elbow. "We… We simply didn't know. How was I supposed to know?!"

Qian Shanyi sighed, and sat down next to Song Hexiang, patting her on the shoulder. "It's quite alright," she said quietly. "It will be over soon anyways. Did he knew you were pregnant?"

Song Hexiang nodded, taking a sip of her tea. "Of course. I can't move much, not with father's eyes always on me. So Zhuangtian… He did what he could." Her lips twisted in an ugly grimace. "More than that worthless creep Tang Jisheng ever did."

Qian Shanyi tapped her cheek in contemplation. She had to tread very carefully - she doubted that she would get very much else out of the girl once she told her that Zhang Zhuangtian was dead. Concealing the truth was one thing, but to lie outright... The rumors would spread quickly, and once Song Hexiang realised it, it would take weeks before she could ever warm up enough to Qian Shanyi to share crucial information. Weeks they frankly didn't have.

That meant that directly asking about what Zhang Zhuangtian did recently was dangerous.

"You said Tang Jisheng could not diagnose you?" she said, deciding to go for a safer topic for now.

"For months. I had figured it out first, and then he still could not help me. Said he didn't have the pills," Song Hexiang said, before her lips split in a snarl. "Why didn't he know this technique of yours?!"

"I really couldn't say," Qian Shanyi said neutrally. "But tell me more about how it happened."

She had some guesses, none of which meant much good. But knowing them would not help Song Hexiang in any way.

"I… I kept going to him, and we thought it was some disease, but none of his healing pills worked," Song Hexiang said. "And then… Well. It doesn't matter anymore."

"Miss Song," Qian Shanyi said, raising an eyebrow. "I feel like you aren't telling me the whole story. What happened?"

"Look, it - it just doesn't matter," Song Hexiang said, looking away uncomfortably.

"It's often the smallest things that matter in situations like these. If Tang Jisheng hurt you -"

Unexpectedly, Song Hexiang actually let out a chuckle at that. "He didn't. It's just…" She licked her lips nervously. "When I realised I must be carrying a child, I panicked, okay? I had told Tang Jisheng, but then I thought that he might tell my father, and I couldn't have that. So I… threatened him."

Qian Shanyi's eyebrow arched yet further. "You threatened a cultivator?"

Song Hexiang hugged her knees tighter, letting her chin rest on top. "You must think me foolish."

"Some would say that."

"I told him that if he ever told my father I would say the child was his," Song Hexiang said with a sigh. "It was… stupid, really. But I guess it worked, because he never told anyone."

Qian Shanyi frowned deeply. That… certainly changed things. "I see. And Zhang Zhuangtian knew of this?"

"Of course," Song Hexiang replied, her eyes full of unrestrained innocence. "We have no secrets from each other."

Qian Shanyi nodded, then patted Song Hexiang on the arm again. "Well, take some rest," she said, getting up and heading for the doors. "At least until your contractions start. Then we'll take care of the rest."

"Wait," Song Hexiang called after her just as she was about to close the door. Her face looked pained, a drop of blood welling up on her lip where she must have bit it. "I… I have to ask. When you spoke of Zhuangtian… Why did you speak as if…?"

Song Hexiang broke off, covering her mouth with one hand. Whatever courage she had just gathered, it had failed her.

"I am sorry for misleading you," Qian Shanyi said. There was only one thing she could have meant here - this cat was already out of the bag. "In your condition, I did not want to tell you right away. I am afraid that I am investigating his death."

"W-what?" Song Hexiang said, her eyes growing to the size of saucers. "Ah Zhuangtian is d-dead?"

Qian Shanyi nodded. "I am sorry that you had to find out this way."

"Are you sure?"

"I am afraid so. I am the one who found him this morning."

Tears started to well up in Song Hexiang's eyes again. "How did he die?" she said, choking up.

"An unfortunate fall while gathering sunscythes out in the forest," Qian Shanyi lied. "Best as we can tell, he didn't suffer."

He almost certainly did. Having your soul tear itself out of your own body had to be one of the most excruciating ways to die imaginable - but there was no need to trouble Song Hexiang with that knowledge.

"I should have known. No wonder he didn't show…" Song Hexiang muttered, starting to shake. "That fool… That absolute fool!" She suddenly screamed, and threw her cup of tea against the wall. It shattered into fragments, and Qian Shanyi caught the porcelain handle just in front of her nose. "How did he dare die?!"

"I am truly sorry," Qian Shanyi said again, bowing slightly to Song Hexiang.

She really should have put up a sound muffling formation right away. It was fortunate that the house was empty - otherwise, that scream was loud enough someone was sure to have overheard them.

"What does it even matter anymore?" Song Hexiang muttered, her face turning gray. "He is dead. He was… and now he isn't."

Qian Shanyi stepped back into the room and quickly gathered up the fragments of the cup. Best not leave them where someone could cut their feet.

"We were going to run away together," Song Hexiang continued, her voice turning into a wail. "Get out of this damnable backwater, once he passed imperial exams. And now I will die here, all alone!"

Song Hexiang wavered, and suddenly collapsed back down on the bed, her body going slack. Qian Shanyi frowned, coming closer - but best as she could tell, the girl had simply passed out. Her breathing was even, and even the color of her face had started to stabilise. Perhaps all the stress had finally been too much for her.

Qian Shanyi left her to sleep for now. She had already gotten most of what she needed, and the contractions would wake her up soon enough.

Until then, the poor girl had suffered quite enough already.

The contractions took three hours to resolve, but passed without any further incident. In many ways, Qian Shanyi found this to be disappointing.

She kept track of Zhang Zhuangtian's ghost all throughout their little operation - and two hours in, it had finally left for good.

Qian Shanyi kept expecting it to make a move, to come into contact with its past lover - but it seemed those expectations were misplaced. She even left the manor several times, going all the way out to the water cistern - on the surface of it, to fetch some water, and in actuality to bait the spirit. She was confident that it underestimated the range of her spiritual energy senses by more than half - likely based on its experience with Tang Jisheng.

If it had ever come out of the earth, Qian Shanyi would have slain it on the spot - yet it never did.

Once they finished helping Song Hexiang, Qian Shanyi and Linghui Mei had reconvened in the kitchen, to discuss what Song Hexiang had told them, and talk over their next steps. But before then, there was something she simply had to address.

"So," Qian Shanyi said, setting a small pot of rice to boil in the fireplace. "You do not approve."

Linghui Mei had seemed far too grumpy ever since Qian Shanyi had told her what they would do.

"I do not approve of many things you do," Linghui Mei said, sitting down on the edge of the table to watch her cook.

"Hmmm."

Linghui Mei sighed in annoyance. "Shanyi, if I truly disapproved, I would have stopped you. I am just disappointed in that girl."

Qian Shanyi threw a glare at Linghui Mei, closing the lid on the pot. "You didn't seem to like her from the start."

"I didn't. So what?"

"So you could have been kinder to her. She deserves better."

Linghui Mei shrugged, unrepentant. "And you could have told her Zhang Zhuangtian died before going through with it."

Qian Shanyi turned around, leaning against the counter. "I could have," she admitted quietly, inclining her head.

"So why didn't you?"

It took Qian Shanyi a while to answer. Much of it she hadn't thought through explicitly - just as a loose feeling, deep beneath her surface thoughts. Part of it was that she wanted to question her - but it was far from the entirety of her reasons.

"Frankly, I did not want sentimentality to cloud her mind," she finally said, crossing her arms on her chest. "She might have kept the child, or she might not have - it's hard for me to say. But we'd leave this town in less than a week, and then she would truly be without any good options. Like it or not, life didn't offer her much time to come to grips with her situation."

That explanation didn't seem to mollify Linghui Mei any. She still had her lips pursed, though without any real glare. "Sentimentality? It would have been her choice."

"It would have," Qian Shanyi admitted again. "I suppose I've made it for her, in some sense. I'm comfortable with that - now tell me why you have found her so despicable."

"Because it's her duty as a mother to raise children," Linghui Mei said as if it was self-evident. "She is abandoning her responsibility. Why should I like her?"

Qian Shanyi gave Linghui Mei a strange look, trying to decide how to phrase it most delicately. "Mei," she said, "A child out of wedlock? I think her father might actually kill her if he ever found out about it."

"Fearing death is no excuse," Linghui Mei sneered. "It never stopped me, nor any other jiuweihu."

Qian Shanyi rolled her eyes. "Please," she said, "Don't even try to pretend. I don't believe for a second that you only raised your children merely out of a sense of responsibility. I've seen how you react to their every mention."

Linghui Mei looked away. Qian Shanyi knew that she couldn't deny her words, and yet… "I did my first one," Linghui Mei said quietly. "If we didn't have children when we could, even when it's hard, we would already have died out."

"Hm. One notes Song Hexiang doesn't normally have to fear spirit hunters."

"So?"

"So if her father doesn't kill her now, she might very well have a child later, when she is ready for it," Qian Shanyi explained. "Ideally with a living spouse to help her. It's not at all similar to a jiuweihu who might be killed at any moment."

Linghui Mei frowned, muling over her words. "Maybe," she grumbled, "I am still disappointed in her."

"Hmmm. Very well. Stay disappointed, disciple."

Qian Shanyi turned back to the pot, checking the water. It had been boiling too fast, and she raised the pot higher, where the heat was lesser. "In all honesty, this has been most frustrating," she continued, "we've stumbled on the one person who could seemingly give us all the answers we needed - and yet, we still know so little."

"What do you mean?"

Qian Shanyi turned back to her disciple, gesturing with a spatula. "Answer me this: why did Tang Jisheng want to hide the ghost?"

"Because he is guilty," Linghui Mei said immediately.

"Of what? Most likely, he simply told Zhang Zhuangtian where to find the sunscythes," Qian Shanyi said, rubbing her forehead with the back of her hand. "Telling an ordinary person about plants they might find deep in the dangerous swamp - well. It's certainly negligent, but it's simply… too small. Hiding the ghost is a major crime, before you even consider the personal risk of it ripping his own soul out. You do not conceal a minor theft by committing a murder - we are still missing the most crucial piece of this puzzle."

She turned back to the pot. Plain rice seemed far too little for a good meal - perhaps she should add some vegetables.

"There is an easy way to find out," Linghui Mei suggested behind her.

"Are you still talking about that?" Qian Shanyi turned around, grimacing. "Absolutely not."

"Shanyi, please," Linghui Mei sighed, before raising her hands placatingly. "I accept your point about the ordinary people - but Tang Jisheng is a cultivator. He is fair game, right? Just let me drain him, and I'll tell you what he saw from his own memories."

"And what if he is innocent?"

"What if he isn't?"

"All we have are suspicions, nothing concrete. I will not have us risk the soul of a fellow cultivator on conjecture alone."

"There is no risk -"

"Oh for the love of mercy, we've talked about this," Qian Shanyi snapped. "Just because my and Yonghao's souls seem to recover fine from your feasts, it means nothing. Yonghao cannot be used as evidence of anything in the first place, and my soul might simply be a fluke. We have no true proof your feasts are safe - if we had any, I'd have sent it to the empire already! And until we have such proof - I won't have you risk a fellow cultivator's soul based on a guess!"

Linghui Mei crossed her arms on her chest, and huffed defiantly. "I don't have to guess. He is a cultivator. He is guilty of something."

"Not this again," Qian Shanyi said, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

"What?" Linghui Mei scoffed. "You've seen how much the people trust him. Is he a saint, to never abuse his power?"

"Perhaps not. But that is still conjecture. Besides, how do you imagine it working?"

"The same way as it always did."

"No, really, walk me through this," Qian Shanyi said, letting her annoyance leak into her voice, "You get the jump on him - presumably while he sleeps - you drain him. Then he wakes up just as you are walking away. What now? Will you fight him? Try to flee? He will report a jiuweihu for certain. Or will you simply kill him?" She shook her head, and cut through the air with one hand. "No. It's a needless danger, especially since we have no way of knowing if you can even learn anything conclusive from his memories."

"So what is your alternative?" Linghui Mei said sarcastically. "Do you think we can simply ask him if he is a criminal?"

"No," Qian Shanyi breathed out. "But there is a better way. We'll just have to make Tang Jisheng himself tell us."

In the past few days, they had spent very little time with Tang Jisheng. After all, they had to find the ghost - and it was doubtful that he would simply let the name slip from his lips. But now they knew - and so it was time to apply a little pressure.

For the next two days, Qian Shanyi had turned into Tang Jisheng's shadow. She was at his door before he woke and left when he went to bed, and throughout the entire day, helped him with his clients. She told him it was to guard him against the ghost - and it was, but it also gave Linghui Mei some time to sneak around his house and try to find something from papers and documents.

Unfortunately, the man did not keep a diary, so this had brought them little.

Qian Shanyi had also told him about finding Zhang Zhuangtian - though she said that the ghost itself had led her to the corpse, to conceal Linghui Mei's involvement. She saw how it affected him. He tried to keep a brave, confident face - but even that was starting to crack. He was already stressed beyond all reason. Qian Shanyi's presence only accelerated the inevitable.

Soon, his secrets would spill forth, like money out of a clay pot filled to bursting.

"This wine is truly amazing," Qian Shanyi mused on the very evening of the ghost festival. "As is this house. Building it all must have cost you greatly, fellow cultivator Tang - I am quite jealous."

They were planning to head out into the masquerade later, together with Tang Jisheng. They could already faintly hear the celebration out in the distance - music and that usual rumble of revelry and drinking. They gathered in his tower for drink and conversation - with Linghui Mei serving them wine. Even though Tang Jisheng had reluctantly offered, she had refused to drink any.

Today, the ghost's powers would be strongest. It was a perfect time for it to strike, and Qian Shanyi did not completely trust Tang Jisheng. At least one of them should have remained completely sober.

"Well, it was really not too bad," Tang Jisheng said, laughing freely and more than a little drunkenly. He leaned forwards conspiratorially, over the small table in between them. "One of my customers had actually offered me a loan. With the way the business is going, it will be all paid out within another three, maybe five years."

With the thick bags under his eyes and the nervous glances he still threw towards every corner of the room, he presented a truly miserable image. Even his hair, ordinarily well-kept, was getting frazzled.

Linghui Mei had already told her about that loan, and Tang Jisheng's finances. Three years was a blatant lie - ten was far more likely, if not longer. Apparently, he was new in this town, having only worked here for two years, and even though his clients were quite wealthy, he was living beyond his means.

"I see," Qian Shanyi said, faking interest with the ease of long practice. She fluttered her eyelashes some, to best sell the image of an innocent, oblivious jade beauty. "So it is going well then?"

Tang Jisheng nodded, before wilting slightly. "Aside from this problem with the ghost, yes."

"The ghost is troubling, that is true," Qian Shanyi said. She leaned back, gesturing with her own wine glass. "I can't help but wonder what this young man had been doing so far out in the forest. What did you say those flowers were called?"

"Sunscythes?"

"Sunscythes!" Qian Shanyi snapped her fingers. "That's right. I hardly know anything about flowers, but I am sure the great doctor Tang would be the one to ask about it."

She leaned forwards, shifting her robes around a bit to expose more of her cleavage. Lust and pride - this man was almost comically easy to manipulate.

"Oh, you flatter me too much!" Tang Jisheng laughed, too busy staring to meet her gaze. "I am hardly a herbalist. The only use for them I know is in case of an unwanted pregnancy. So perhaps mister Zhang had a bit of a tryst."

"Hm. That's curious," Qian Shanyi said, inclining her head. "Fellow cultivator Tang, I thought you said that you didn't know our ghost? So how is it that you know his name?"

Tang Jisheng froze, staring directly in her face. "Ah, fellow cultivator Xing, I must have heard it somewhere," he said, laughing awkwardly. "Maybe you've mentioned it?"

"Of course, of course," Qian Shanyi smiled. She fluttered her eyelashes a bit more. "That explains it. Only… I don't think I said it, and I've been with you these past two days. So where else have you heard it?"

A drop of sweat came out on Tang Jisheng's forehead, but he swiped it away quickly. Qian Shanyi pretended not to notice. "Well… now that you mention it, I think I remember him coming to me once," he said, putting on a very serious face. "With this stress, I must have forgotten all about it until now."

Qian Shanyi shook her head tragically. "The stress is a dangerous thing, fellow cultivator Tang. You need to take care of yourself better. Please, drink some more of this wine."

She reached out over the table and refilled his glass from the bottle they shared so far - only to find it run out in her hands. Her own glass was starting to look a little shy, and she gestured to Linghui Mei to bring her another bottle.

"Still, what is it you said? Pregnancy?" she continued, while Linghui Mei had headed off into a corner. "You must deal with it a lot."

Tang Jisheng laughed, shaking his head. "Hardly! Fellow cultivator Qian, I am a doctor, not a midwife. If people thought I dealt with such things would I not lose far too much face? I barely even know anything about it."

"That's interesting."

"Is it?"

"Of course," Qian Shanyi said, smiling brightly. She finally got him exactly where she wanted him. "You see, one Song Hexiang had told us you have been treating her for months. So how is it that you don't know anything, when one of your valuable clients is pregnant?"

Tang Jisheng swallowed, his face going blank. "Ah… That is…"

His eyes flickered all around the room, but Qian Shanyi had sat between him and the staircase. Cornered him, like a little rat.

Come on, you fool. Give me something I can use. You must feel a need to justify yourself, don't you?

"Well?" Qian Shanyi prompted. "Surely the great doctor knows how to treat his clients."

More sweat appeared on Tang Jisheng's forehead, but he was far too unnerved to deal with it. He looked Qian Shanyi in the eyes, and something within him cracked. His hand fell on the pommel of his sword.

Oh? Well, well, well. I must have stumbled on something massive if that's how you want to do it. I won't stop you from seeking your own death. A low refinement stage cultivator is no challenge to me.

"Well, that's all to say -" he continued, still trying to find his words.

Qian Shanyi's grin stretched wider still. "Hmm?"

Suddenly, Tang Jisheng sprung up - but not towards Qian Shanyi. He grabbed Linghui Mei by the hair, his sword pressing up against her throat. Linghui Mei screamed, the bottle of wine she had been bringing back to them shattering all across the floor.

"Stay back!" Tang Jisheng screamed at Qian Shanyi, a wild, terrified look in his exhausted eyes. He backed away from the tea table and towards the corner, pulling struggling Linghui Mei along with him. "Don't summon any of your spiritual energy! Don't even stand up! Because if you do -"

He pushed his sword a little closer to Linghui Mei's throat. A single drop of blood welled up on the edge, and Linghui Mei jerked back, held securely by her hair. From that close, she couldn't have any hope to transform before he killed her.

"If you do, I will cut your servant open like a pig!"

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