Ye Qingshen lost his mother at birth. His father never remarried and raised him alone for more than ten years, acting as both father and mother—until he, too, passed away. In the end, in the vast Ye household, only Ye Qingshen was left.

 

His youth was lonely. But ever since he was young, his father had taught him that anyone destined to achieve great things must learn to endure solitude. So he had long since grown used to it.

 

He was the young Grand Chancellor of the Ye family. Watching the dynasty steadily decline, he still carried out his duties faithfully, even though the emperor remained immersed in his own world, casting aside every memorial and remonstrance, caring only for immediate pleasure and utterly indifferent to the lives of the people.

 

Ye Qingshen knew very well that everything was heading toward destruction. His existence merely slowed the inevitable. Out of duty, he gradually hollowed out the emperor’s power, so that he could actually govern. Otherwise, if the emperor refused to listen to anything he said, he would be completely powerless.

 

Then, however, the emperor discovered a seventeen-year-old performing girl among the common folk, and things seemed to change.

 

The emperor became obsessed with her to an unprecedented degree. After she entered the palace, he favored her alone. She had only an artistic name while in the streets, so the emperor personally bestowed upon her the name Lu Huaining, and even granted her the title “Ning.” From the moment she entered the palace, she became Consort Ning—more favored than any concubine before her.

 

Ye Qingshen felt little about it. After all, real power was in his hands. Even if Consort Ning demanded that the child in her womb inherit the throne, he could eliminate both mother and child together.

 

But he did not.

 

Controlling a concubine and an infant was no harder than controlling an aging emperor—just a different puppet. A younger life might even prolong this rotten dynasty a little longer.

 

What he did not expect was that, although he did not act, the emperor personally strangled the woman named Lu Huaining to death—killing both mother and unborn child.

 

The informants reported the news that very night. Ye Qingshen was surprised, but quickly put it aside.

 

So much for true love in old age. In the end, it was only a temporary amusement. Once he grew tired of her, he discarded her.

 

Yet the next day, Lu Huaining appeared in the palace again—completely unharmed. The emperor acted as if nothing had happened and even attended morning court for the first time in a long while, looking suddenly revitalized and youthful.

 

Ye Qingshen had no choice but to take notice.

 

Someone who had already died had returned alive, while the emperor behaved as if nothing had happened.

 

It was all too strange.

 

He even wondered whether the palace servants had made a mistake—but the blood-soaked corpse of the fetus revealed the truth. That night, Consort Ning really had died.

 

So who, then, was the Consort Ning now in the palace?

 

Fortunately, the emperor finally began to listen to advice again, and Ye Qingshen could once more submit his memorials. The trouble was that this “revived” Consort Ning was far more difficult to deal with than before. Even when the emperor discussed state affairs in the imperial study, she stayed constantly at his side.

 

The former Consort Ning, though spoiled and greedy, was an illiterate commoner. Even when she craved power and status, she could not judge the situation properly and often did foolish things—making her easy to control.

 

But the current Consort Ning was different.

 

She still bewitched and misled others, but she seemed to be deliberately steering the emperor toward his own destruction. She picked out memorials that could incite ministers and provoke unrest and urged the emperor to approve them. As for the reform proposals Ye Qingshen submitted—especially those beneficial to the State of Shen—she casually tore them up as if they were scraps of paper for practice.

 

Ye Qingshen was not anxious. Whoever sat on the throne, whoever held power—everyone would die eventually. He was merely carrying out his duty.

 

Now that Consort Ning stood in his way, he had to remove this obstacle for the sake of Great Shen—even if the woman before him had already died once.

 

“Grand Chancellor Ye, has anyone ever told you how handsome you are?”

 

Huai Ning smiled at him sweetly and lifted her hand as if to touch his face. Ye Qingshen frowned slightly and turned his head aside.

 

Yes. It was that feeling.

 

Looking at the familiar face before her, Huai Ning suddenly understood why the old emperor had sought out someone who resembled her so closely. Although she did not know when he had recognized her true identity, some people could tell the difference even when two faces were identical.

 

Just like Ye Qingshen.

 

She could clearly sense that although he looked exactly like Xie Qingchen, he was both similar—and different.

 

Of course, Xie Qingchen was not her lover—at most, half a benefactor. She had no romantic intentions toward Ye Qingshen either. She was simply curious.

 

Her curiosity clearly offended the usually cold and aloof Ye Qingshen. Huai Ning knew she was being intrusive, but she did not care. She even deliberately asked him when the emperor was absent:

 

“Are you truly unwilling to help me ascend the throne? If I became emperor, as long as you were willing to come with me, I would make you my empress. Don’t worry—I have no other candidate yet.”

 

Utterly outrageous.

 

Even Ye Qingshen, who only wished to do his job, was occasionally offended by her words. He could not understand where this Consort Ning had come from, why she could return from the dead, or why the emperor—who had personally killed her—had changed his heart and shown no fear at her revival.

 

If this continued, then even if she were a ghost, he would still have to destroy her.

 

And soon enough, he truly encountered a ghost.

 

A sheet of paper, blown by the wind, paused strangely in midair before the window, then drifted away as if released by an invisible hand. Ye Qingshen rose calmly and closed the window.

 

This had been happening for some time. He often felt that something unclean was following him in the residence, watching him read, write, and eat. Just now, he had deliberately pushed aside the paperweight and let the wind scatter his writing.

 

Now he was certain.

 

Ghosts really did exist.

 

Huai Ning, seeing him walk away as if unaware, hesitated briefly, then followed quietly.

 

It was not her fault. She had been away from the human world for far too long. As an outsider, she did not consider this spying. She preferred to call it observation.

 

She studied the elegant courtyard. Though lanterns glowed brightly, there was little warmth of life. It felt cold. She hugged her arms and sighed at how exhausting this man’s life seemed.

 

If it were her, she would have guests constantly coming and going. Friends, subordinates—everyone mingling. She certainly would not waste such a fine residence. That main hall would make a perfect meeting room.

 

Ye Qingshen suddenly stopped.

 

Although she had concealed all her presence and, in theory, a mortal should not be able to sense her, Huai Ning still slipped behind a pillar. He merely glanced thoughtfully at the pond and moved on.

 

Ye Qingshen knew his courtyard was haunted. He had considered inviting Taoist priests to exorcise it, but quickly dismissed the idea.

 

The ghost did nothing except follow him. Since it did not affect him, he could ignore it.

 

Sometimes, however, he wondered what kind of world this ghost belonged to. Was it, like the mortal realm, endlessly eroded by struggle? Or was it a world where one could simply live freely?

 

Autumn rain fell. The weather turned cold and warm by turns. On a chilly rainy night, a gust of wind struck his throat through the open window. He coughed twice.

 

The window slammed shut by itself.

 

That night, he fell ill.

 

Huai Ning touched his burning cheek, summoned a damp cloth, and placed it on his forehead.

 

Through the haze, Ye Qingshen felt a gentle, cool presence accompany him through the night.

 

After that, he fully accepted that his residence was haunted.

 

Whether ghost or demon did not matter. As long as it did not harm him, he would not act.

 

Meanwhile, the emperor’s condition worsened. Consort Ning’s revival seemed to mark a brief resurgence before his collapse. The longer she stayed by his side, the weaker he became. Even without Ye Qingshen’s intervention, the emperor would not survive the year.

 

Eventually, the day arrived.

 

Ye Qingshen had not intended to dirty his hands, but somehow the sword was placed in them. Seeing the emperor in agony, he ended his life.

 

Outside the hall, Consort Ning leapt into the lotus pond.

 

He stepped out—only to realize she was not drowning at all.

 

She smiled at him, her bare feet touching the water’s surface, sending ripples across the pond.

 

“He’s gone?” she asked.

 

“Before he died, he called your name,” Ye Qingshen replied.

 

Huai Ning laughed softly.

 

“So it’s my turn next?” she asked.

 

“In theory,” Ye Qingshen thought.

 

“Before you send me away,” she said, “may I enjoy the human world for just a moment longer?”

 

She slipped into the water and soon resurfaced holding lotus roots.

 

“Before I die, I want a bowl of lotus-root starch. If you agree, I’ll tell you a secret.”

 

“No need,” Ye Qingshen said calmly. “Many would rather see the demon consort silenced forever.”

 

Huai Ning studied him.

 

“You’re in such a hurry. You can have both my life and my secret. It’s only a matter of order.”

 

She leaned closer.

 

“Could it be… you’re afraid that, given time, you might become reluctant to kill me?”

 

“I am not the emperor,” Ye Qingshen said. “Your methods need not be used on me.”

 

She laughed.

 

“This dynasty rotted to the core long before I arrived.”

 

In the end, Consort Ning never tasted her bowl of lotus-root starch.

 

She died before him.

 

Later, Ye Qingshen began seeing her again—only he could.

 

That night, in the bathhouse, she appeared beside him.

 

The tip of his sword pressed against her throat.

 

“I am already dead,” she said softly. “A sword cannot kill me again.”

 

“You and Consort Ning were never the same person,” he replied. “She can die once. So can you.”

 

She traced the blade with her fingers.

 

“You look at me the same way the emperor did. Why pretend to despise me?”

 

“You could spare me,” she whispered. “Enjoy yourself with someone who does not exist in this world.”

 

Blood trickled from her fingers as she seized the blade. She stepped closer.

 

“If I die one more time, will you wonder whether I will come back again?”

 

Then she suddenly snatched the sword away and threw it aside, both hands closing around his throat.

 

“Consider my proposal,” she murmured by his ear. “Leave this world with me—and share eternal pleasure.”

 

Ye Qingshen closed his eyes and pulled her hands away.

 

“Please show some restraint. I have no such inclination.”

 

She laughed lightly.

 

“I am a wandering ghost bound to this world. Only by finding a substitute to die in my place can I be reborn. Otherwise, whoever I attach myself to can never escape.”

 

Before she could see his reaction, she suddenly lost balance—falling into the pool.

 

Ye Qingshen seized her arm.

 

“So even a ghost can have such warmth,” he said calmly.
“You are no ordinary being. But you are not invulnerable. If you stop now, I will not pursue you. I am, in fact, interested in your origins. If your secret were uncovered… perhaps anyone could revive. Perhaps anyone could become immortal.”

 

She wiped the water from her face and laughed bitterly.

 

“Even if you dissect me alive, you will still die when your time comes.”

 

“Then why toy with me again and again?” he asked quietly. “The haunting of my residence was also your doing.”

 

“It was not a joke.”

 

She stepped closer, looking at him earnestly.

 

“I truly care for you. Would you be willing to leave with me?”