Chapter 61: Awakening

Hiss… it hurts so much.

Her sluggish thoughts flowed slowly. After a burst of white light came several fragmented flashbacks. Soon the reel of memories burned away completely, leaving her mind utterly empty. Gu Xianwang struggled to open her eyes. Above her was an old carved wooden bed frame, its four corners draped with snow-white mosquito netting. The light all around was dim, as if it were night.

She turned her neck slightly. Her body felt numb and sore, impossibly heavy. The bedsheets and pillowcases gave off a familiar camphor scent. To her left stood a rosewood vanity; to her right, a painted curio cabinet. She reached out and touched the edge of the bedpost. Those three indentations were still there.

It was a place she knew well.

Master had truly come. It hadn’t been her hallucination after all.

But if Master was real, then what about all those black-clad people? She vaguely remembered them operating strange rope machines to pull them out of the cave. And after that… after that, what? Why did she have no memory of it at all?

Wait—

They had been rescued. What about Long Li? Had Long Li gotten out with the others?

Anxiety gripped her heart, making her restless. She struggled to sit up, and pain shot through every inch of her body. Gu Xianwang twisted open the enamel lamp on the bedside table. In the faint warm glow from its glass shade, she lifted her clothes to inspect herself. The bandages were freshly changed, still carrying the sharp tang of disinfectant. This nightgown was a remnant from the days when she had lived here before; now it felt a touch too small.

Nanny Chen must have come along with Master.

None of the old clothes she had worn upon her return were in the room—Nanny Chen had probably packed them away. With Master keeping watch, the Snake Spirit Pearl and the Gu Poison should be safe. But her phone was nowhere nearby, so she had no idea of the date or how long she had slept. What had become of Senior Brother and Ye Chan?

Her mind buzzed with questions, yet she didn’t dare go looking for Master rashly. She had slipped away into the deep mountains without a word this time, dragging Senior Brother into a place full of deadly perils. It went against every rule—a grave taboo of their sect.

Gu Xianwang rubbed her face with both palms and let out a long sigh. She might dodge the first day of the month, but not the fifteenth. She glanced at the clock. It was just a little past eight in the evening—not yet Master’s usual bedtime. Why not… just go now?

She was still hesitating when the door hinge gave a faint creak. Nanny Chen tiptoed into the room. Spotting the bedside lamp lit, she exclaimed with joy, “Oh! Wang’er, you’re awake. How are you feeling? Still running a fever?”

Nanny Chen was over sixty years old. She had been serving Shang Ruyun since her own early twenties and had never married. She treated Gu Xianwang like her own daughter.

A glass of fresh water sat by the bed at all times; Nanny Chen changed it every half day, so Gu Xianwang could drink whenever she woke. Master was particular about such things—the water in the residence was always that day’s mountain spring. Nanny Chen had picked up the habit and applied the same standard to Gu Xianwang.

She stood by the bed, a little at a loss for what to do, her wrinkled eyes faintly red. Gu Xianwang disliked being touched. Other than the unavoidable wiping down and changing of clothes when she had first been brought back, Nanny Chen never laid a hand on her.

Even that one time had broken Nanny Chen’s heart. Such a delicate girl, like fine porcelain, covered in wounds both new and old, large and small. It was enough to pierce one’s soul.

Gu Xianwang shook her head, her voice hoarse and low. “I’m all right, Nanny Chen. I just feel tired—no fever, I think. Please don’t worry.”

She was weak, yes, but more than that, she felt embarrassed. Master had often stayed in this old Western-style house on Tianjin Five Avenues in his younger days, but in recent years he had moved elsewhere. He rarely came here anymore, deeming the surroundings too noisy and unrestful. He only dropped by occasionally to meet special guests. His presence this time was surely tied to her own troubles.

“Ah, all right. Are you hungry? What would you like to eat? The kitchen got a fresh delivery of ingredients today, all prepared to Master’s tastes. Just name the dish, and I’ll make it for you.”

At the question, Gu Xianwang’s stomach let out a loud, timely growl. She had no idea how many days it had been since a proper meal, let alone one from Nanny Chen’s expert hands. Of course she wanted it—but now was not the time to think only of food.

“Hold on a moment, Nanny Chen. Do you know how Senior Brother is doing? How long have I been asleep?”

At the mention of Yao Cuo, Nanny Chen’s expression grew somber. “Little Cuo… he’s still in the hospital. It’s been two days now. Wang’er, it’s not that I’m blaming you, but you were far too reckless this time. If Master had arrived just half a day later, what would have become of you all!”

Even though both had been injured, one could recuperate in a private courtyard residence while the other was stuck in a hospital—this was the stark difference between inner and outer disciples. Yao Cuo had only apprenticed himself to Shang Ruyun as an artisan, learning his craft alongside a troupe where the relationship hinged mainly on mutual benefit; once the profits were realized, either side could walk away at any time. But Gu Xianwang had formally presented her calling card, kowtowed in respect, and offered tea to Shang Ruyun. With the five cardinal relationships held supreme, one honored one’s master as one’s father—a duty that lasted a lifetime. So even though Yao Cuo had arrived earlier, the only one truly close to Shang Ruyun remained Gu Xianwang.

Gu Xianwang kept her head bowed low, adopting a posture of perfect deference. “Yes, I know I was wrong.”

She knew Nanny Chen responded well to this sort of thing. After agreeing, she followed up with another question. “Did you go to Guizhou with Master? Then… did you see anyone else? Um, a tall woman who came out of the cave with us?”

“You mean Xiao Ye?”

Gu Xianwang shook her head at once. “No, not Ye Chan. Taller than Ye Chan, with hair a bit shorter than mine, down to her shoulder blades. She has striking features—quite beautiful. If you’d seen her, you’d remember.”

Nanny Chen thought for a moment. “I didn’t go into the mountains with the gentlemen. I’m getting on in years and didn’t want to be a burden. I only saw you all after you’d been brought down the mountain. There was no one else then, and I didn’t hear Master mention anyone.”

Hearing this, Gu Xianwang’s thoughts grew even more disordered. Given the circumstances at the time, she and Senior Brother had passed out almost the moment they exited the cave. Long Li and the others must have inhaled even more of the smoke inside—there was no way they could have left the mountain on their own right after emerging. Could it be that in the end, they hadn’t made it out?

The very thought made it impossible for her to sit still any longer. She had to ask Master directly.

Gu Xianwang threw back the covers. Her feet had just touched the floor when she suddenly remembered that she hadn’t properly washed up in days. Master placed great importance on propriety, especially since she was going to him now to admit her faults and beg forgiveness. “Nanny Chen, are my old clothes still in the room?”

Nanny Chen pointed to the wardrobe. “They’re all there. I just cleaned them out yesterday—everything’s fresh.”

Realizing she intended to go see Master, Nanny Chen reminded her, “He’s in the hall right now. If you want to see him at once, be even more deferential. Don’t argue with him. These past couple of days, he’s barely closed his eyes over your matter. You know his temper—let him vent a bit to cool off, all right?”

Gu Xianwang nodded. “Yes. He has every right to scold me. How could I dare object? Could I trouble you to fetch me a basin of hot water? I want to freshen up.”

…

After hastily washing herself, Gu Xianwang changed into a silk short-sleeved jacket with a mandarin collar, paired with wide-legged Song-style trousers that reached her waist. She deliberately applied no powder, descending the stairs with her face pale and unadorned.

As she came down the staircase, the bright light from the hall spilled out from under the eaves. Before her foot even touched the ground, Gu Xianwang halted. She took two deep breaths, feeling the air in the room oppressively stuffy. Glancing out the window, she saw it was most inopportune timing—thick clouds had been brooding all day when a crack of thunder crashed down, and the rain began pouring in sheets outside.

This was hardly a good omen.

She gave a wry smile, then quickly composed herself. With a solemn expression, she took two proper steps forward and stood respectfully outside the hall, hands at her sides. “Master.”

Shang Ruyun wore a long robe in the deep green of mountain pines, a single-lens monocle perched on his nose. He sat in the elegant rosewood taishi chair, sipping pear soup while perusing the newspaper.

One leg crossed over the other, his right elbow resting on the armrest, his posture straight as a pine tree. He looked hale and vigorous, with sharp, piercing eyes. He didn’t acknowledge Gu Xianwang’s voice. Only after reading every word of the passage in the paper did he fold it shut, lift his white porcelain bowl for a sip, set it down with a crisp clink, and raise his eyes.

“Come in.”

Just one word, clear and resonant, ringing with authority.

Gu Xianwang bent slightly at the waist and entered the hall lightly. Her gaze never left the floor tiles. She walked in and stood beside the huanghuali armchair at the far end, awaiting permission to sit.

Shang Ruyun eyed her demeanor, his expression impassive, betraying no emotion. After a long pause, he finally spoke again. “Sit.”

Only then did Gu Xianwang take her seat, posture impeccably upright. Before coming downstairs, she had specifically instructed Nanny Chen not to come down just yet. Nanny Chen knew she was thin-skinned and going to take her scolding, so she tactfully stayed away.

Her attitude of contrition was even more proper than her posture. “Master, I know I was wrong. Please calm your anger—don’t harm your health on my account.”

Shang Ruyun showed no reaction. He removed the rare agarwood bracelet from his wrist and began rolling it between his fingers with a soft clacking sound. In a flat tone, he asked, “Where did you go wrong?”

Gu Xianwang’s seat had barely warmed before she shot back to her feet and bowed deeply. “I was wrong to act on my own without authorization, causing you worry.”

“Oh? And?”

“And wrong to drag Senior Brother down with me.”

She kept her head bowed, listening as Shang Ruyun let out a low hum. After a moment of silence, he asked “Is that all?”

“Of course there’s more. A thousand mistakes, ten thousand wrongs—it’s all Xianwang’s fault. If Master wishes to punish someone, then punish me alone.”

“Heh, lift your head.” Shang Ruyun removed his glasses and lightly rubbed his brow. “Do I not know you by now? So obedient on the surface, yet bold and reckless to a fault, born with a rebellious bone in your body. Your Senior Brother has followed your lead since you were children—point where you will, and he strikes. I have nothing to say about his actions. Right now, we’re only discussing yours.”

With that, he plucked a slip of paper from beneath the newspaper and tossed it beside the porcelain bowl. “A short note, staking your life on the line. Excellent, simply splendid. This is Shang Jiu’s disciple for you. If Boss Ye’s grandson hadn’t come looking for me, I never would have found you in this vast world. Just you wait until I—a white-haired parent—have to send you off!”

“How could I dare?” Gu Xianwang hurried forward to soothe him. She carefully lifted the bowl of pear soup and offered it with both hands, saying softly, “I failed to consider Master’s feelings. It was all my lack of foresight. This trip to Guizhou—”

“It was for your mother.” He cut her off. “I’ve already made the arrangements there. Whatever medicines or treatments can be used, the very best will be employed for her care.”

“Master has gone to such trouble.” Gu Xianwang took a step back and replied honestly, “I did go to Guizhou for that reason, but not entirely. Master, this curse afflicting me harms both others and myself. Putting it off any longer isn’t a solution. If I just hide away, I might end up harming even more people.”

In a subdued voice, Shang Ruyun asked, “Who told you that’s a curse? And how can you be so certain your mother’s illness is definitely connected to you?”

From the very day Shang Ruyun had brought her back, he had told her that the so-called Forbidden Witch Bone was nothing but slander invented by those people. What evil curse? What she suffered from was mere hysteria—hallucinations and visions brought on by an unsettled mind. As long as she took good care of herself, it would naturally fade away. These many years at Shang Ruyun’s side had proven that true enough. If one chalked up her father’s accident and her mother’s illness to mere coincidence, then aside from a faint otherworldliness that set her apart from others, she appeared utterly ordinary on the surface.

Perhaps now there was one more what-if: if she hadn’t endured all of this, she might have returned and put her suspicions of bearing an evil curse to rest. She would have obeyed her master’s command and lived out her days as an ordinary person.

“Master, this time I saw it with my own eyes. Forbidden Witches truly exist in this world.”