That evening, aside from the guards and the inn waiter, no one else ventured out.
Tao Chuyi slipped past them, sneaking into the kitchen like a thief. She lifted the lids off the pots one by one, but found not a scrap of food. This place was no good, she thought—not even anything to eat.
When she lifted the fifth lid, she finally spotted the leftover xiaolong soup dumplings. Before she could even celebrate, she realized they were cold. How was she supposed to eat them like that?
Tao Chuyi poked around the kitchen, her keen instincts quickly drawing her gaze to the stove. She decided to fire it up herself and steam the dumplings fresh. Cold ones needed to be reheated properly, and she was determined to make sure her sister got them hot.
In no time at all, thick smoke billowed from the kitchen. No matter how she tried, Tao Chuyi couldn’t contain the flames. Choking and coughing, she stumbled back out—right into Yinghong.
“Ouch, my lord! What on earth are you doing?”
Yinghong caught a whiff of the smoke and rushed in to put out the fire. Fortunately, the dumplings were unharmed.
Tao Chuyi stood there looking utterly forlorn, wringing her fingers together. “Sister’s hungry. I wanted to make her something to eat.”
“Prince Consort, wait here. This servant will take care of it.”
With that, Yinghong set about relighting the stove.
Tao Chuyi watched closely. It looked exactly like what she’d tried to do—so why had hers caught fire?
After the better part of a quarter-hour of fussing, Tao Chuyi finally carried a steaming tray of xiaolongbao back to the room.
“Sister, Sister, dumplings!”
She set the tray down on the low table and perched on the edge of the bed, gazing at Nangong Yunshang with brimming anticipation.
Nangong Yunshang smiled gently. She couldn’t bear to disappoint Tao Chuyi, so she made a show of eating two. Her appetite was strange, though—famished just moments ago, now two bites had filled her up.
“They’re delicious.”
Tao Chuyi beamed with joy, grinning like a puppy eager for a pat.
Suddenly, Nangong Yunshang raised her hand. But instead of ruffling Tao Chuyi’s hair, she brushed her right cheek.
“What happened here?”
A smudge of soot still clung to the side of Tao Chuyi’s face from the earlier mishap with the fire. Only now did she notice, and she rubbed at it carelessly.
“It’s nothing.”
Nangong Yunshang could guess exactly what had happened. Her expression softened with emotion.
People were most vulnerable when ill, and having someone steadfastly by their side, caring for them without fail—how could that not touch their heart?
“Are you hungry?”
Nangong Yunshang slid the plate toward her. “Have some. I can’t finish them all by myself.”
Tao Chuyi nodded vigorously and dove in.
If Nangong Yunshang nibbled daintily, Tao Chuyi devoured them like a whirlwind—one dumpling per massive bite.
Watching her eat with such relish lifted Nangong Yunshang’s spirits as well.
“Slow down. There’s plenty more.”
Under Tao Chuyi’s round-the-clock care, Nangong Yunshang’s wind chill gradually faded. Over the past couple of days, the Emperor hadn’t even shown his face, too proud to bother with even the pretense of courtesy.
Tao Chuyi overheard Yinghong grumbling about it, but she thought those villains staying away was for the best. Her sister had her—that was enough.
“Your Highness, General Zhao is here to see you.”
At those words, Nangong Yunshang pushed herself upright, sitting a bit straighter. She had to receive a guest properly, after all—no lounging about crookedly.
Tao Chuyi planted herself firmly on the edge of the bed, refusing to give Zhao Linglong any room.
Yinghong fetched a chair, so Zhao Linglong sat down a short distance from the bed.
“Is the Princess feeling better? I didn’t dare disturb your rest the past couple of days, so I held off on visiting.”
Nangong Yunshang smiled. “It’s nothing serious. I’m almost fully recovered.”
Zhao Linglong nodded. “That’s a relief. Has the Prince Consort stayed out of trouble these past few days?”
Tao Chuyi bristled immediately, huffing indignantly. “I haven’t caused any trouble!”
Nangong Yunshang took her hand to soothe her. “I’ve recovered thanks to the Prince Consort’s care these past days. Chuyi has been an absolute angel—no trouble at all.”
Zhao Linglong shook her head with a wry smile. “My apologies. The Princess and Prince Consort share such a harmonious bond—it’s a blessing for your household. I overstepped.”
She lingered for quite a while, and Tao Chuyi stared at her the entire time.
When Zhao Linglong showed no sign of leaving, Tao Chuyi grew displeased.
“Sister needs to sleep. Good children don’t stay up.”
Zhao Linglong rose awkwardly amid a few more words of concern and well-wishes, then took her leave.
Tao Chuyi tucked Nangong Yunshang back into the bed and covered her eyes.
“Sleep.”
Nangong Yunshang pulled her hand away. “I’m not sleepy yet.”
“You have to sleep anyway.”
Tao Chuyi kicked off her shoes and climbed onto the bed, wrapping Nangong Yunshang in her arms and patting her gently.
“Baby, be good. Baby, time for sleepies.”
Nangong Yunshang had no choice but to close her eyes. To her surprise, sleep came swiftly and deeply.
The next morning, Tao Chuyi was jolted awake by the blare of horns and lively clamor outside. Groggy, she scrambled up and peered out the window. A bright red wedding sedan swayed into view before the inn, trailed by a few people blowing suona horns.
The noise roused Nangong Yunshang as well. Her eyes fluttered open, still hazy with sleep.
“Chuyi, what’s going on out there?”
Tao Chuyi dashed back to the bed. “A wedding procession outside. Yeah, they’re getting married.”
It was the bridal party.
Nangong Yunshang started to get up, but Tao Chuyi blocked her.
“Rest.”
Nangong Yunshang sighed. “I’ve been lying down for days now—any longer and my bones will turn to jelly. See? I’m much better. I want to have breakfast in the front hall today.”
The moment she heard her sister wanted to eat, Tao Chuyi stopped objecting. She immediately crouched down to help her with her shoes.
They descended the stairs just as the bridal procession was heading up. The bride peeked out from under her veil, her eyes locking with Nangong Yunshang’s. A flash of awe crossed her face, but her maid hurried her along into a room.
According to Yinghong, the procession had come from out of town, delivering the bride to a local family. With every other inn full, they’d come here to stay the night.
For the sake of it being a joyous occasion, the Emperor permitted them the empty upstairs rooms for one night.
Tao Chuyi sat with Nangong Yunshang in the main hall. They hadn’t ordered yet, simply watching the wedding sedan outside.
Then the inn waiter sighed. “An out-of-town bride… she won’t last long. What a tragedy.”
Nangong Yunshang looked up. “What do you mean by that?”
Glancing to ensure the boss wasn’t around, the inn waiter leaned in and whispered the tale. Three years ago, another bride from out of town had stayed at the inn on her way to Hangzhou—and died under mysterious circumstances.
“All her flesh stripped away, leaving nothing but bleached bones. Terrifying stuff.”
He recounted it with vivid detail, as if he’d seen it himself.
“They say there’s a Ghost Bride here. Jealous of prettier newcomers, she devours them. One comes, one goes down the hatch. Two come, she eats the pair. Feasts on beautiful brides to keep her own skin intact, or so the story goes.”
Tao Chuyi tilted her head, staring at him. “Waiter…”
The inn waiter hurried over. “What can I get for you, young master?”
Her big eyes bored into him as she dropped the bombshell. “Did the bride die at this inn?”
The inn waiter’s face drained of color. He denied it in a panic, but his expression had already betrayed him.
Nangong Yunshang slammed the table. He dropped to his knees with a thud.
“Why didn’t you mention this was a haunted inn before? Tricking customers like this—what’s the penalty for that?”
Prostrated on the floor, the waiter trembled. “Mercy, miss! I was just following the boss’s orders. He forbade us from saying anything—bad for business, you see. I let it slip this time. Please don’t tell anyone I said anything!”
Nangong Yunshang was only scaring him. She didn’t believe in ghosts, so it didn’t faze her. But a bride’s gruesome death suggested human malice lurking behind the tale.
The thought flitted by. They were just here on a pleasure trip—no need to overthink it.
After lunch, as Tao Chuyi held Nangong Yunshang for a nap, hurried footsteps echoed outside. She bolted upright.
“What is it?”
Nangong Yunshang stirred languidly, still half-asleep.
Tao Chuyi pointed outside. “Someone’s running.”
By the time they’d dressed and left the room, word had spread: the out-of-town bride was dead. Under mysterious circumstances.
The crowd buzzed with horror. The corpse matched the legend—nothing but a skeleton left. Her flesh had vanished into thin air, leaving only a puddle of congealing blood that reeked foully.
Dead in the span of an afternoon nap, in such a grisly state—it sowed panic everywhere. Whispers of the Ghost Bride reignited like wildfire.
No one from the Dali Temple or Ministry of Punishment had accompanied them, so they sent for the local prefect to take charge.
The bride’s attendants were terrified out of their wits, babbling incoherently and desperate to flee. The guards herded them into one room to await the prefect.
Glancing at the skeletal remains, Tao Chuyi sneaked forward when no one was looking and touched it. Still warm.
Nangong Yunshang spotted her inside and beckoned urgently. “Chuyi, come back here.”
Only then did Tao Chuyi withdraw from the scene and return to the room with Nangong Yunshang.
Tales of the Ghost Bride swept through the streets, and even that night as they lay down to sleep, faint wails seemed to drift on the air.
Tao Chuyi covered Nangong Yunshang’s ears as they lay together in bed.
“I’ll protect Sister. Don’t be scared.”
Man or ghost, if it dared frighten her sister, she’d beat it to a pulp.
The prefect rushed over in a frenzy—not so much for the death itself, but because the imperial retinue was here unannounced, catching the local officials flat-footed.
As the son of the Jiangnan Prefect, it naturally fell to the Eldest Princess Consort to receive them. With the case now in the prefect’s hands, who knew when it might be resolved.
But Tao Chuyi paid none of it any mind. Her sole focus was protecting her sister.
While the others scrambled to investigate, she stayed in the room, legs crossed on the bed, facing the door.
“Demons and ghouls, begone! Begone!”
She muttered softly to herself, recalling how those wandering fortune tellers in the jianghu worked their arts, along with the tales in those storybooks. An old Daoist’s methods were probably much the same. In any case, just keep chanting at the ghost, and that ought to do the trick.
Nangong Yunshang turned her head and saw that she was still sitting there. She tugged at the corner of her garment. “Why aren’t you sleeping yet?”
Tao Chuyi felt not the slightest trace of sleepiness. Her spirits were high.
“Sister, you sleep. I’ll keep watch tonight.”
Nangong Yunshang couldn’t help laughing. “No need for that. There are so many people outside—even if there were a ghost, it wouldn’t dare show up. Besides, how could ghosts even exist in this world?”
No sooner had the words left her lips than the window creaked open a crack. A black shadow flashed past outside, accompanied by faint, ghostly sobs.
Nangong Yunshang: “…”
Speak of the devil?
Tao Chuyi moved to block her path, eyes fixed intently on the doors and windows.
“Sister, don’t be scared.”
