They sat down at the table, and Yun Chun cut straight to the chase. She crossed her legs and slapped the marriage certificate down in front of Xu Lanmeng. “You wrote this, didn’t you?”
Xu Lanmeng picked up the marriage certificate and glanced over it. “Yes.”
A hint of distant amusement flickered in Yun Chun’s eyes and brows, her tone light and breezy. “First, you arranged this ghost marriage for me. Then you turned around and told me I was haunted by a ghost. And finally, you said you could help sever the connection.”
“After the whole chain of events, I’d bet you’ve made a killing, haven’t you?”
Xu Lanmeng paused for a moment before responding directly. “You think I’m scamming you?”
Yun Chun shrugged.
Xu Lanmeng chuckled. “I pride myself on my integrity.”
She placed the marriage certificate on the table, rested her hands together on the edge, and smiled at Yun Chun.
“First off, when they came to me to write up the marriage certificate and arrange your engagement, I didn’t know you at all. I had no idea who Yun Chun was—you were just a name.”
Yun Chun had already considered that possibility.
“Second, the day I ran into you by chance and told you a ghost had latched onto you, I just thought you seemed likable. I wanted to help out, like any good Samaritan.”
Xu Lanmeng continued, “Third…”
Yun Chun jumped in. “Third, you had no idea the ghost marriage was with that very family you’d divined for. And you didn’t know the ghost haunting me was from the same household whose marriage you’d arranged, right?”
Xu Lanmeng nodded. “Exactly.”
The corner of Yun Chun’s mouth curved slightly. “Isn’t that all a bit too convenient?”
Xu Lanmeng brushed it off. “Life is made up of coincidences like that. That’s what brings the surprises and twists.”
That wasn’t what concerned Yun Chun, though. “So, doesn’t that mean you owe me some free services? All of this traces back to you.”
Xu Lanmeng: “…”
What a crafty little kid.
So stingy, not letting a single chance to haggle slip by.
The smile faded from Xu Lanmeng’s face as she asked, “Do you really believe that?”
“What else am I supposed to think? You admitted it yourself.”
Xu Lanmeng’s expression grew neutral. She tapped her finger on Lu Qingxue’s name in the marriage certificate and countered, “What if it’s this young lady who’s really to blame?”
She had died, after all, which led to the ghost marriage—and everything that followed.
Xu Lanmeng kept going. “And this young lady happens to be connected to you, doesn’t she?”
Yun Chun froze.
Xu Lanmeng even knew they were acquainted? Or was it something else?
“What… do you mean by that?”
“You’ll have to figure that out for yourself. I can’t say more.” Xu Lanmeng put on an air of profound mystery.
“In any case, no freebies.”
Yun Chun: “…”
Fine, keep your secrets—she’d just ask Lu Qingxue.
Her gaze fell on the marriage certificate, and she asked, “Is there any way I can see her, even without the ghost marriage tying us together?”
“Why do you want to see her?”
Rather than answering Yun Chun’s question, Xu Lanmeng turned it back on her, zeroing in on what she was really thinking.
Yun Chun summed it up simply. “We hit it off. I’d like to talk more.”
She had no intention of hiding it from Xu Lanmeng, since she still needed the woman’s advice on a method.
But Yun Chun hadn’t expected Xu Lanmeng to ask outright, “Are you in love with her?”
Yun Chun stared at her in stunned disbelief as Xu Lanmeng added flatly, “Then why bother severing the connection? You’d skip the whole marriage process and go straight to living happily ever after.”
Yun Chun couldn’t help laughing wryly. “Could it be… we’re just kindred spirits, good friends?”
“No.”
Xu Lanmeng’s immediate denial left Yun Chun exasperated.
Seeing Yun Chun’s eyelids droop wearily, Xu Lanmeng smiled. “I mean, once your connection is severed, I won’t be able to help you see her anymore.”
Yun Chun didn’t buy it. She stared at Xu Lanmeng wordlessly, her instincts telling her the woman definitely had a way.
That piercing gaze pinned Xu Lanmeng in place, sending a tingling shiver through her body like an electric jolt. Feeling unnerved, Xu Lanmeng twisted the ring on her finger, leaned back in her chair, and finally relented with a helpless sigh. “You don’t seriously expect me to open your ghost eyes, do you?”
Yun Chun’s eyes curved in a smile, and she agreed without hesitation. “Sure.”
Anything to see Lu Qingxue.
Xu Lanmeng shot her a disparaging look and said coolly, “Then you won’t just see her—you’ll see all the ghosts out there.”
“…”
So, that meant she’d see the ghosts in the mirror from yesterday too?
Not just in the mirror, but every lurking ghost in the corners? What if they were the kind with sharp fangs, eyes oozing bloody tears, mouths split into grotesque grins? Or ones with tongues dangling grotesquely…
That would be way too terrifying.
Not every ghost was as pleasant to look at as Lu Qingxue, easing the mind and soothing the soul.
“From the look of your aura, she’s not a threat to you right now. You can’t have it both ways. Rather than worry about it now, why not set it aside? When you no longer want to see her—when that ‘kindred spirit’ feeling fades—you can sever the bond then. No need to agonize over it.”
Xu Lanmeng offered her advice, then added, “At that point, you won’t even need to come to me. Just burn this marriage certificate, and… there’ll be no connection left between you.”
Burning it would suffice?
Yun Chun gave up on the ghost eyes idea for now and decided to go along with Xu Lanmeng’s suggestion, putting things with Lu Qingxue on hold temporarily.
“Think of some other options for me,” Yun Chun pressed, refusing to let it go.
Xu Lanmeng didn’t respond this time. There were plenty of methods, but she couldn’t reveal them to Yun Chun just yet.
~~~
With most of their chat wrapped up, Yun Chun remembered one last thing before leaving. “My mom… did you find her?”
At the mention of Yun Yueqin, Xu Lanmeng’s smile didn’t falter, though her finger paused mid-twirl on the ring beneath the table—perhaps out of frustration at failing her client’s task.
She straightened in her seat, rested her hands on the table again, and said with mild regret, “No.”
She explained, “After so many years, a soul wandering the mortal world isn’t easy to track down.” Looking at Yun Chun, she added, “She might have even reincarnated by now, for all we know.”
Reincarnated…
Yun Chun’s thick lashes trembled unnaturally, like treetops under the moonlight on a summer night.
Had her mother gone off to become someone else’s mother?
It was a good thing.
So why did her nose sting like this?
Were they truly destined never to meet again, not even one last glimpse?
If Xu Lanmeng said she couldn’t find her, where had she even looked? Surely no need to go out—summoning from home should suffice.
Clinging to a final shred of hope, Yun Chun asked, “Did you try summoning toward my hometown? Southwest direction.”
“I did.”
Xu Lanmeng replied, “But you could describe the places she frequented back home, sketch out the scenes for me. I can visualize them tonight and try again. That might improve the odds.”
“Okay.”
Xu Lanmeng’s words reignited Yun Chun’s hope. After a moment’s thought, she said, “Aside from the spots she had to go for work, there was only one place my mom visited often.”
She began to recount slowly: “It was a little hillside…”
Yun Chun’s village was ringed by mountains, and Yun Yueqin used to take her there when she was little, where they’d sit for ages. From that spot, you could see not just their village but villages for miles around—dozens of them. Turn around, and you could even glimpse the ones on the far side of the mountain.
She had once asked Yun Yueqin what she was looking at from up there. Her mother had smiled and said the scenery was beautiful, once carpeted with wild little yellow flowers across the hills. When the wind blew, they’d sway gently—such a lovely sight. Standing on that hillside opened up your view. The world seemed bigger, and maybe you’d spot someone you hadn’t seen in ages. Or perhaps, sitting there, you could wait for a long-lost loved one to return.
Back then, Yun Chun hadn’t understood. But as she grew older, Yun Yueqin stopped going to that little hillside altogether.
As if the old scenery was gone for good—and so was any hope of her loved one returning.
“…”
As Yun Chun spoke, her gaze dropped, lost in memories of her mother.
She didn’t notice the inscrutable shift in Xu Lanmeng’s eyes.
By the time Yun Chun finished, the ripples in Xu Lanmeng’s gaze had subsided. Calmly, she promised once more to try summoning again and to let Yun Chun know if anything came of it.
Yun Chun stood, thanked her, collected Merry from the study, and left.
Xu Lanmeng saw her to the door, listening as Yun Chun’s footsteps faded down the stairs. She flipped the sign on the wall to the other side, changing it to “Out.”
No one would disturb her now.
With that, Xu Lanmeng closed the door and headed into the bedroom.
The curtains were drawn, leaving the room dim and shadowy.
Xu Lanmeng approached the wardrobe and opened its doors. Inside the spacious closet sat a single item.
If Yun Chun had been there, she would have instantly recognized the bracelet on the central stand—the fake one she’d given Xu Lanmeng that day.
The very one Yun Yueqin had always worn on her wrist.
A strip of yellow talisman paper was affixed to it, sealing away whatever lay within.
As Xu Lanmeng gazed at the bracelet, a flicker of softness entered her eyes. She stared at it for two seconds before peeling off the talisman and stepping back.
Between the open wardrobe doors, a gentle figure faintly materialized.
When people died and became ghosts, their appearance usually shifted to the age they regretted leaving behind—or the one they cherished most in their hearts.
After her death, Yun Yueqin had manifested in the form of her sixteen-year-old self.
Her hair was tied into two thick, long braids, with naturally curly bangs forming soft arcs across her forehead. Thick brows framed big eyes, her face brimming with youthful innocence.
Yet the maturity in those eyes far surpassed that of a sixteen-year-old.
Seeing Xu Lanmeng, Yun Yueqin curved her lips into a gentle smile and softly called out, “A Lan.”
