Chapter (6): Going to the Imperial City

Madam Yu caught the scent of liquor on Scholar Yu and immediately knew he had failed the examinations again. She and Scholar Yu had grown up together as childhood sweethearts, and when the time came, it was only natural that they married. She had never imagined that the man who once treated her so well would, after a few years of marriage, turn into what he was now.

He left all the household affairs to her; she no longer felt like the scholar's wife, but rather his servant. The more Madam Yu thought about it, the colder her heart grew. Still, there was some bond between husband and wife, and with a child already, she hadn't chosen to leave.

Composing herself, she picked up Yu Huan and set him on the small bed. Then she turned to fetch the family’s spare medicinal ointment. When she looked back, she saw Yu Huan staring blankly ahead, his eyes vacant. Madam Yu’s heart ached terribly, filling her with even deeper guilt toward her son.

With tightly pressed lips, she gently applied the ointment to Yu Huan’s bruised face and softly murmured, “Be good, Yu Huan. Your father…” Seeing Yu Huan flinch at the mention, she paused for a moment before continuing, “Your father didn’t mean it.”

No matter what she thought of Scholar Yu in her heart, Madam Yu hoped Yu Huan wouldn’t come to hate his father. She wished for them to maintain a good father-son relationship. Just as she was about to continue defending Scholar Yu, Yu Huan’s words brought her to tears.

Yu Huan gazed quietly at his mother for a long time. As though he could no longer hold back, he reached up with a trembling hand to touch his burning cheek and, with a sob in his voice, whispered, “Mother, it hurts…”

Madam Yu parted her lips, but no words came. Eyes reddening, she applied the ointment and soothed him to sleep.

The next day, Scholar Yu awoke in a daze, his head splitting and his hand aching badly. As his vision cleared, he looked at his frostbitten right hand—anger flared in his chest and, scowling, he set off to discipline Yu Huan.

By then, the sun was high in the sky. After searching the house and finding no one, he gave a cold snort, took some silver from its usual place, and went out drinking again.

Madam Yu, fearing a repeat of the previous night, had taken Yu Huan with her to work in the fields. Watching her son quietly read under a tree, Madam Yu smiled gently. She herself had chosen the name “Yu Huan”—not hoping for his wealth or rank, but simply wishing he might have joy all his life.

In the five years that followed, Yu Huan and Madam Yu continued living under the same roof as Scholar Yu, but mostly kept their distance. Nonetheless, they could not avoid his drunken beatings. Scholar Yu had sunk fully into alcoholism, spending at least three or four days out of every seven drunk, sometimes to the point of unconsciousness. Finally, when Yu Huan was eleven, someone found Scholar Yu’s lifeless body in a ditch—he had met an unfortunate end.

Though Scholar Yu had often beaten him, Yu Huan still felt grief at his father’s passing. After all, the man had once treated him well in childhood. Compared to Yu Huan, Madam Yu was more detached; after burying her husband, she simply returned to her daily life.

Yu Huan and Madam Yu depended on each other. Yu Huan loved to study and read all the books Scholar Yu had left behind. He proved himself worthy, passing the local and provincial exams. He had intended to travel to the capital for the imperial examination at sixteen, but when Madam Yu fell ill, he postponed his plans for three years.

When Yu Huan turned nineteen, Madam Yu passed away, leaving her dying wish: that Yu Huan might fulfill his father’s long-cherished dream and attain high honors.

After arranging his mother’s funeral, Yu Huan packed his things and prepared to leave for the capital. But as he set out from the village, the other villagers began to point and whisper.

Yu Huan had striking good looks; even in a patched coarse shirt, his remarkable bearing could not be concealed.

“Hey, see him over there? That’s the cursed child of the Yu family…”

“Him? Are you sure? He seems like a good boy.”

“Don’t be fooled by appearances—he’s much more terrifying than his drunkard father. A lone star of misfortune! He brought death to his drunkard father, and now to his mother as well…”

At these words, Yu Huan stopped. The people around him started, unconsciously stepping back. With his cold, indifferent expression, Yu Huan turned his head and glanced carelessly at those speaking. For some reason, those under his gaze felt a strange chill crawl up their spines and collapsed in fright. The others, seeing this, looked at Yu Huan as though he were a bringer of calamity, retreating several steps and opening a path for him.

Yu Huan walked away slowly, saying nothing, the bitterness in his eyes sinking deep into his heart. Now that his mother was gone, there was likely no one left in the world willing to draw near to him. Perhaps it was just as well—he would not bring harm to anyone else.

Seeing Yu Huan leave, the villagers breathed a collective sigh of relief, thinking their village would finally know peace.

After a long journey, Yu Huan finally arrived at the capital. It was late by the time he entered the city, too late to take in the bustling streets; his first task was to find an inexpensive inn. After much searching, he found a spot run by an elderly man with snow-white hair tucked away in a quiet corner.

Yu Huan inquired about the cheapest room, frowning as he realized his remaining silver would only cover four or five days’ lodging—and that only if he survived on porridge alone. He would need to find a way to earn money, or he’d be driven mad by the daily struggle for food before the exams even began.

With a sigh, Yu Huan settled his bill for the coming days and went upstairs to rest.

The first day, after breakfast, Yu Huan set out to find work, but returned empty-handed. The second day was no better. The old innkeeper, noticing something amiss, greeted Yu Huan as he returned, “Young man, you’re back. Where have you been in the city today?”

Caught off guard by the old man’s friendliness, Yu Huan stammered a reply, “Mm.”

Smiling kindly, the old man set aside his broom. “If you’re not busy, come with me for a moment.”

Without waiting for a response, he led Yu Huan to the kitchen, opened the steamer, and handed him several steaming buns. “Here, take these.”

Yu Huan looked embarrassed and shook his head. “I haven’t done anything for you. How could I accept?”

The elder chuckled softly. “Just take them. You can owe me for now—pay me back when you’re able. If I’m not mistaken, you’ve come to the capital for the imperial exams, haven’t you?”

Yu Huan nodded. The old man continued, “You seem well-read. Why not set up a stall selling your calligraphy and paintings, or offer to write letters for others? That would suit you perfectly. You can borrow tables and chairs from the inn for now. What do you think?”

Yu Huan’s hands trembled slightly as he bowed deeply in gratitude. The old man sighed, wrapped the buns in oil paper, and pressed them into Yu Huan’s hands. “There’s no need for thanks. I’m just giving you an idea. You’re young—the good days are yet to come.”

He patted Yu Huan on the shoulder and left. Yu Huan stood for a long time, clutching the warm buns—he would remember this kindness.

On the third day, following the old man’s advice, Yu Huan set up a stall on the street. Passersby couldn’t help casting sidelong glances, marveling at his handsome appearance.

Thanks to his striking looks, business soon came his way—Yu Huan’s stall had its first customers.

Meanwhile, at the Prince Shen’s Manor:

Shen Xunqing sat alone in the courtyard, everything already prepared. Having taken over the body of the Shen family’s son, there were some matters he naturally had to see through. It would be a way to pass the time while he waited.

There was not much he wished to do—nor was it little. He intended to restore the Shen family to its former glory as the wealthiest house in the land; to uncover the cause of their massacre; to live peacefully with his beloved Little Yama.

In recent years, due to that ugly woman’s interference, Shen Xunqing had been forced to enter the palace every so often—a tiresome affair. At last, unable to endure it, he created a puppet to take his place. Unexpectedly, the woman even came to the manor, forcing Shen Xunqing to have his shadow servant set up an enchantment, which finally kept her at bay for a time.

Using aliases, the shadow servant had quietly rebuilt the Shen family’s business and moved the assets bit by bit. Now, it seemed, everything was in place—the wealthiest family in Yan Kingdom had changed hands overnight.

As for the massacre, Shen Xunqing had cast wide nets both in and outside the palace, and at court. Now, it was time to draw them in.

But to Shen Xunqing, these were not the most important matters. This year, he was sixteen—old enough to try that method of seeking out Little Yama. He had sealed the entire manor with enchantments, set the little celestial fox, Bai Lian, to keep watch at the gate, and called his shadow servant inside.

Standing before the shadow servant, Shen Xunqing’s right hand glowed with faint white light. The servant promptly took out the young master, who was kept at his vital point. Shen Xunqing carefully received the tiny ball of light, now faint enough to reveal the outline of a small child.

He felt his heart soften. Hovering his glowing right hand above the ball of light, the servant saw a wisp of white thread emerge from it. Shen Xunqing gently wound it around the Soul-Chasing Tassel.

The little ball of light still slumbered. After watching for a while, Shen Xunqing had the servant return it to its place. His child was still taking shape—nothing must go wrong in this period. With the shadow servant, it was safest.

The shadow servant was his own creation, and few in this world could match its cultivation—if any.

What Shen Xunqing had just drawn from the ball of light was the only trace of Little Yama’s aura upon it. With that essence woven into the Soul-Chasing Tassel, finding Little Yama would be much easier.

As the white thread entwined the tassel, it slowly faded. Shen Xunqing watched intently. Suddenly, the tassel trembled. Startled, Shen Xunqing saw it dart out of the room. He hurried after it.