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No matter how loud Rong Jiu’s shouts were, they still weren’t enough to drown out the mocking laughter and the cajoling from the soldiers.
“Still talking about credits and rewards,” the guard on his right wheezed, kicking off another round of laughter.
Their squawking only came to an end when they came across a larger group of soldiers all rushing toward the main courtyard, the stone pavement cracking underneath their feet. Weapons in hand and faces in various states of distress, the group came to a stop when they spotted Rong Jiu and his captors. Just the sight of them was enough for every one of his captors to shut up.
“Where are you all headed?! Didn’t you hear about the emergency?” The one Rong Jiu recognized as some superior officer yelled. “Get to the Lord’s courtyard immediately.” His voice left no room for delay.
Without a second thought, the guards holding Rong Jiu up released their grips on him, causing him to drop down to his knees. And then, without a single glance in his direction, the soldiers all saluted their superior and fell in position behind him.
Before they continued on their way, the one in charge pushed one of the soldiers behind him toward Rong Jiu. “You— You deal with this one here.” Again, as though Rong Jiu was invisible, the superior led the rest of the soldiers away to deal with whatever havoc Mo Ran was wreaking to free his beloved shizun from the Fourth King’s servitude.
As the rest of his crew sprinted away, the remaining soldier hauled Rong Jiu back to his feet.
Faced with a change in his captors’ numbers, Rong Jiu sensed a fleeting chance. He did not continue walking. Instead, he threw himself back on his knees and clutched at the hems of the soldier’s robes.
“You can’t take me to the dungeons. You can’t! I haven’t done anything wrong. I’m begging you. What was my crime? Following the living person that appeared in my rooms? You know what they’ll do to me there. Please, please, please.” His cries were frantic and desperate. But Rong Jiu had enough awareness to make sure he still looked somewhat presentable. Desirable. If he couldn’t appeal to the soldier’s humanity, he could at least make the ghost think he had something to gain—a favor he could pay with his body.
The soldier, much to Rong Jiu’s relief, didn’t laugh him off or send him crashing into one of the walls so that he would shut his mouth. Instead of threatening or berating him, the ghost soldier sighed and regarded Rong Jiu with a severe look: “Where did you come from? What are you being jailed for?”
Rong Jiu blinked away the tears in his eyes, his lower lip wobbling as he spoke. “I— this servant doesn’t know where he’s from, but I spent the majority of my life near Sisheng and—”
The soldier cut him off before he could finish. “I meant which wing of the palace you reside in.”
Rong Jiu averted his eyes in embarrassment. “This one… doesn’t know. I was with the last lot brought here to serve the Fourth King in his chambers.”
The soldier did not need to hear more and seemed uninterested in why Rong Jiu was being persecuted. He leaned down to prop Rong Jiu up on his feet once again. His touch did not linger aside from making sure Rong Jiu wasn’t going to fall over or throw himself on the ground again. And after that, he simply led the way and motioned for Rong Jiu to follow him.
Rong Jiu’s mind raced, calculating his next move.
A part of him wanted to try his hand at escaping. Without anyone grabbing him, slipping away would be considerably easy. The palace was full of twists and turns, accidentally losing sight of the ghost and wandering away would not be unreasonable. The ghosts under the Fourth King’s service were stupid and easy enough to fool, sure, but Rong Jiu wasn’t sure if he could fool the guy twice in a row.
As they walked, the soldier turned around a few times to make sure Rong Jiu was still following him. Rong Jiu smiled at him shyly each time, hoping to garner more than just pity. But before they made it to their destination, they ran across another group of ghost soldiers running in the direction of the main courtyard. The ghost leading the charge shouted as he ran past. “Emergency! All hands on deck! Our Lord demands maximum security in the main courtyard’s perimeters.” He didn't wait for a response as he continued running full speed ahead.
The soldier Rong Jiu had been following thus far glanced back and forth between him and the group he was expected to follow. Seemingly concluding Rong Jiu couldn’t possibly be more trouble than whatever incident required this much manpower, he sighed.
“Concubines stay on the Eastern Wing of the palace. Follow this corridor without making any turns.” The soldier nodded to him one last time, bidding him goodbye, and followed his comrades to deal with Mo Ran and his beloved.
Rong Jiu smiled at the ghost and gave him a shallow bow. He turned around and headed the way he was instructed.
He took a few decisive steps, looked back, and met the soldier’s eyes. Giving him one last smile, Rong Jiu watched him and the rest of the group turn right and disappear from his sight.
Once he could no longer hear the soldiers’ footsteps, Rong Jiu turned back around and started sprinting.
He ran the way they had come from, toward where he was first captured after ratting Mo Ran out.
With Mo Ran drawing all of the Fourth King’s attention and manpower to himself, Rong Jiu had a better chance of escaping. Men like them tended to ignore men like Rong Jiu when they had something else occupying them.
He hid behind columns carved into snarling beasts and made sure hallways were deserted before making his turns. The dark marble floors reflected the soldiers passing by, each turn framed by archways made of lacquered wood. Rong Jiu held his breath instinctively when another group ran past him.
So much effort to escape a fate remarkably better than his living situation, he thought.
Rong Jiu had been content with his situation in the afterlife before Mo Ran showed up. He had a roof over his head. He had people he could talk to. He no longer needed to eat, so he didn’t feel tired the same way he did after a long night of work. He didn’t need to spend his income on perfumes and creams to make sure his skin stayed soft and supple. And most importantly, despite still being someone’s property, he didn’t need to earn his keep to survive. He was already dead, and the Fourth King had plenty of concubines to choose from.
But now— that didn’t feel like enough.
Seeing Mo Ran had ignited something within him. That idiot was still alive and kicking and, apparently, knew of a way to revive his shizun.
If Mo Ran could do that—if he was willing to go through all of that for someone else—why couldn’t Rong Jiu do it for himself?
Mo Ran had mentioned collecting fragments of his shizun’s soul. Though he hadn’t specified why, Rong Jiu had a few guesses. Rong Jiu, as a ghost himself, already had one of his soul fragments.
His understanding of cultivation was elementary, only somewhat vaster than the average civilian, and he knew not where to start, with finding the rest of his soul fragments—he didn't even know why his soul was fragmented, to begin with. But that didn’t matter in the face of the first tangible chance he had at freedom, since all of his savings had been stolen. Rong Jiu just had to find the rest of his soul.
Then, he could go back to his life as a man already declared dead. Far away from the grasp of the brothel, far away from Chang Da and his schemes. A fresh, clean scroll for him to fill from scratch. And with all of his memories intact, he could still be… himself, unlike what would happen if he were to reincarnate.
His mind fully made up, Rong Jiu finally reached the outskirts of the King’s courtyard. As he expected, no one paid any attention to a frail-looking ghost like Rong Jiu even when they caught sight of him.
And instead of barging in, Rong Jiu found the servant’s entrance. He found a hiding spot behind one of the pillars in the adjoining room to the main entrance hall. The room was small, a quaint little spot for servants to await their Lord’s orders. Unlike the main entrance hall and the rest of the palace, it wasn’t decorated ostensibly. There were only a few pieces of furniture and a landscape scroll depicting the gates of Nanke Town. Here, he could hear all of the shouts coming from the next room.
The commotion inside the main hall grew louder while Rong Jiu crouched down and bided his time. Once the opportunity presented itself, he would escape through the main exit.
All he could do now, though, was wait.
The walk back to the eastern wing was smooth. The commotion Mo Ran raised by simply being a living person was instead replaced by when he stole one of the king’s little darlings from right under his nose.
Rong Jiu made it back to his chambers in peace, without once raising suspicion that he was somewhere he wasn't supposed to.
The room he was given was luxurious and quite large, though sharing it with multiple other ghosts slightly diminished its grandeur.
He was provided with a bed, a chest to store his belongings—which he had none of—, and a nightstand for even more storage. Gauzy screens were placed between the beds to provide residents with an iota of privacy. And unlike the entertainment hall, the smell of incense didn’t assault and overpower one’s senses. It truly felt like a room built only for relaxation.
None of the other ghosts left their beds to greet Rong Jiu when he walked in. No one questioned his whereabouts—not that Rong Jiu would’ve done any of that himself.
His steps echoed in the silent room. He walked to his bed and threw himself on it without caring about the spectacle he was making of himself.
As he buried his head in his duvet, the Fourth King’s words reverberated in his mind.
Rong Jiu could not leave unless he had been married during his lifetime.
It was too late to obsess over what-ifs and could’ve-beens when Rong Jiu was already dead. When he had already died at the hands of the man he once thought would be his savior. He didn’t want to think about what might have happened had he thrown in his lot with Mo Ran—or any other client, really. He bottled up his sadness, and the deep sense of injustice, somewhere toward the back of his mind, and instead thought about how angry he was at Mo Ran.
How dare Mo Ran? Who did he think he was? Waltzing into the Underworld, into one of the kings’ palaces just because he was, what, in love?
Rong Jiu had spent the better half of his life servicing young masters like him. He had spent countless nights with Mo Ran himself only to end up as a victim of some stupid fucking murder he couldn’t even make sense of. Rong Jiu had warmed Mo Ran’s bed, alleviating his nerves whenever he came down that lofty peak he lived on, just to be stolen from. It was just so, so—
Everything was so unfair.
Before he died, Rong Jiu had been willing to throw his life away and live as a runaway for Chang Da and what had he gained from that entanglement? Ah, yes, dying in a random shack where his body would never be found.
Why couldn’t it have been him?
Why couldn’t Chang Da care for him the way Mo Ran cared for his shizun?
Why couldn’t Mo Ran?
Rong Jiu had been kind to him since the beginning and treated him more cordially than anyone. A part of that was to gain his trust, sure. But what was Rong Jiu lacking that he was unable to conjure genuine affection in any of the men in his life?
The world—especially the jianghu—didn’t lack for vengeful people with blood on their hands, so why did people resent Rong Jiu so much for being crafty and trying to live? Did his attempts at survival mark him as unworthy of compassion?
Rong Jiu’s train of thought shattered when the door slammed open, startling him and the rest of the concubines. Heavy footsteps echoed throughout the room.
A soldier is here to drag an unfortunate soul to the Fourth King’s chambers, Rong Jiu concluded.
The stomping wandered around the room for a moment before it stopped at the end of Rong Jiu’s bed. Then, the soldier cleared his throat. “You’ve made it back safely,” he stated.
Jumping upright, Rong Jiu wiped his face before turning around and offering the ghost a genial smile. He had recognized him almost immediately.
Despite the disruption the soldier caused, Rong Jiu adjusted quickly, his demeanor calm and practiced.
“Ah,” Rong Jiu said smoothly. “Mister is here to make use of his favor, I see. Let me freshen up first.” He reached toward the rouge on his nightstand but was stopped by the soldier frantically shaking his head.
“No. I just wanted to talk,” the soldier said. “Follow me.”
Rong Jiu stood up and did as he was told. He couldn’t help but straighten out the creases in his robes, and widen his collars a little. He felt the eyes of the concubines following them as they left the room. The soldier led him a bit further down the hallway so that they weren’t standing in the doorway and turned around to face Rong Jiu.
His eyes moved over Rong Jiu’s silhouette, looking him up and down. Then, he nodded to himself as if satisfied with what he’d seen.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you why you were jailed.”
Rong Jiu shrugged. “For attempting to escape.” It was not the whole truth, but neither was it a lie.
The soldier nodded again in satisfaction. Seemingly done with his inquiries, the soldier gave Rong Jiu a shallow bow and left.
Their conversation ended abruptly, leaving Rong Jiu with unspoken words lingering in the air.
Then, he too turned around and returned to his chambers.
The soldier kept visiting Rong Jiu after the incident.
Every few nights the soldier came by the concubines’ chamber, pulled him outside, asked him about how he was doing, and left once he got a satisfying answer.
He asked about Rong Jiu’s spiritual health and whether he felt as if he was fading away.
He asked about how long he’d been a concubine, what he did when he was still alive, and if he was content with his circumstances in the underworld.
He never once asked to spend the night together.
Rong Jiu, at first tentatively, answered each question with uncharacteristic honesty. Sharing the burdens of his mind with a wholly uninvolved party, getting his advice on situations long resolved, and never being asked to do anything in return, felt better than anything Rong Jiu had experienced before.
Each time they shared more and more with each other; from mundane things, like what incense they liked the most, to how they had died.
Rong Jiu learned that the man’s name was Hu Xing. Hu Xing was very matter-of-fact, quite stoic, and didn’t share Rong Jiu’s sense of humor. He learned that he had had an older sister and that he was sticking around until he could find his sister’s soul. He had died before her and refused to reenter the reincarnation cycle without seeing her one more time. Of course, serving the Fourth King had never been his plan but once he had been selected—thus indebted to the lord—, there wasn’t much else he could do.
Although Rong Jiu now had someone he could call a friend, the hope for freedom in his heart never once evaporated. He was content, yes. He had everything he could wish for—had once wished for - in his life, but this wasn’t what he wanted. This wasn’t what Rong Jiu needed or deserved.
On their fifth meeting, Hu Xing—like any other day—barged into the concubines’ chambers with little to no decorum and had Rong Jiu follow him to a deserted hallway. This time, however, instead of starting their conversation with a light-hearted topic like he usually did, Hu Xing handed Rong Jiu a scroll.
“What is this for?” Rong Jiu asked, unfurling the scroll. The contents revealed a map, drawn with unsteady, inexperienced strokes.
“Rong Jiu,” Hu Xing began. “The Lord is taking down the barriers for reinforcement tonight. This is your chance!” He exclaimed with an amount of enthusiasm Rong Jiu hadn’t seen before.
Rong Jiu’s breath hitched as he traced the lines of the map, heart pounding with a hope he refused to acknowledge. “What—what do you mean?”
“He’s replacing them so that fiasco with that living boy does not happen again. If you wait here—” he explained, pointing to one of the marks on the map, “you should see the moment the barrier goes down. Climb down one of the windows and follow the map to Tailwind Hall. They will be willing to help you with whatever you need—especially the man in charge.” Hu Xing explained in a single breath, words practically rushing out of him.
Rong Jiu listened to him, soaking up every one of his words in complete silence. The plan—the opportunity, seemed almost too good to be true. Mo Ran, despite being a pain in the ass, truly had provided him with an opportunity to escape the servitude of the Fourth King.
Thinking through the plan, Rong Jiu’s grip on the scroll tightened. “But what about you?”
Hu Xing flashed him a rare smile. “We both know my presence won’t be enough to keep you here. Once I pay my debts to the Lord, I’ll leave. You don’t need to concern yourself with me,” He said. “If you don’t hurry, you might not make it on time.”
As Hu Xing ushered him away, Rong Jiu placed the scroll in his sleeve. He clutched his friend’s hand and squeezed tightly. “Thank you. I will not forget everything you’ve done for me.”
Finding Tailwind Hall was not easy.
Hu Xing’s map was rudimentary at best and downright unintelligible in some parts. He had described when to turn and what roads to avoid but aside from those there weren’t any roadmarks Rong Jiu could make sense of.
Asking others was also out of the question. He didn’t trust the residents of the town enough to go seek out help in his state, all flowy robes made of silk and jewelry he hadn’t the time to take off before leaving the palace.
So, Rong Jiu followed Hu Xing’s instruction to the best of his abilities and hoped that even if the map didn’t lead him right to the front gates of Tailwind Hall, he would end up near his destination.
Though the map was unreliable, Rong Jiu relied on more than just Hu Xing's vague directions. There were plenty of ghosts pattering around in the residential area he was now in. He studied the shifting of the crowd, seeing where the majority of the people were headed. The wind began to carry hints of incense, loud chatter, and surprisingly, food. The scent grew stronger the farther he walked.
The part of the town he ended up in was one Rong Jiu was familiar with.
When he’d first crossed the river and entered Nanke Town, Rong Jiu had spent some of his time walking through the bustling streets lined with all sorts of vendors imitating human cuisine, drawing portraits, and selling all sorts of burial items they didn’t need anymore. The breeze carried with it the smell of fried food, and the lanterns floating above gave the impression that the street was just another night market in a busy city. The time he’d spent at the Fourth King’s palace wasn’t nearly long enough for the streets of Nanke Town to change.
Now that he was somewhere recognizable, and almost ordinary, filled with newer ghosts asking for directions, Rong Jiu approached a stout, friendly-looking merchant. The man looked short from where he was sitting. He had a round face with freckles, high cheekbones, and just a hint of facial hair around his sideburns.
“Excuse me, do you know where Tailwind Hall is?” He asked, keeping his voice melodic and easy on the ears.
The merchant raised his head and scrutinized Rong Jiu before giving a reply. His eyes stayed staring at his necklace for a moment too long. Then, he said, “I do. For the right price that is.”
Rong Jiu shook his head. His earrings clacked against each other, reminiscent of the chiming of bells. His ever-silky hair swooshed behind him as he clutched his necklace to his chest with a pained expression. “I’m afraid I cannot give away this necklace. But if Mister is amenable, maybe this ring will do,” he said, taking off the jade finger fitted around his pinky finger. If the merchant wanted compensation, Rong Jiu wasn’t naive enough to pay without some haggling.
The merchant, duly captivated, swallowed before speaking again. “Of course, of course!” he exclaimed with large hand motions. “Here, hand me that map. This gege will draw you a better one!”
“Many thanks, gege.”
When the ghost was done giving Rong Jiu detailed instructions and directions to finding Tailwind Hall, his face was flushed pink and pupils dilated. “If—if the little darling needs help again, don’t bother with these other mongrels and come straight to me, alright? Gege will help you with whatever you need,” he said, holding the little jade ring Rong Jiu had given like some kind of rare treasure and not something the Fourth King had told him to put on, on a whim.
Rong Jiu smiled and bowed to the man. “I will be imposing on you in the future, then,” He said and left without waiting for the merchant to come up with a stuttered response.
His new and improved map was much easier to follow and Rong Jiu found himself in front of the gates of Tailwind Hall in less than a quarter of a shichen.
Outside the hall, a banner with a black serpent fluttered in the wind. A large counter that spanned the whole hall greeted Rong Jiu as he pushed the doors open and walked in. Behind it sat a dozen or more ghosts all wearing grotesque wooden masks, hiding their real faces from view. Before each ghost was a long line of spirits waiting for their turn to make a request from the hall’s employees.
Rong Jiu joined the shortest line and waited with the hundreds of the deceased.
“Sir, I need help finding my son. He died a few months back be-because of the famine. He is… was sixteen when he—”
“Do you have a portrait?”
“Yes. Yes, I do.”
“Alright, here’s our price list for investigations.”
Rong Jiu's mind started racing when he heard the word ‘price’. Did Tailwind Hall only deal in coin? Could he barter? Offer something else in exchange for information? His gaze darted to the other masked ghosts, their expressions unreadable behind carved wooden masks. His fingers clenched in frustration. He’d been able to pay with only his ring using his charm with the merchant but he doubted that would work in an establishment specialized in these sorts of deals.
In front of him, the line moved fast. The ghosts working the counter were efficient and swift, and before Rong Jiu could calculate the value of all his jewelry, it was his turn.
The masked ghost did not give him an opportunity to state his case and possibly bargain before they started speaking. “You are in the Fourth King’s employment, yes?”
Rong Jiu froze for only a moment before composing himself. “Indeed,” he replied, his back straight and tone confident.
The masked ghost lightly shook their head. “You needn’t wait in line concerning these matters.” They pointed toward the staircase behind the counter. “Sir Chu is currently available. Please head upstairs. His office is at the end of the hallway.”
Without missing a beat, Rong Jiu thanked the worker and headed upstairs, not a clue as to what was happening or who he was about face. He stopped before a half-moon-shaped door at the end of the corridor. It was slightly ajar and Rong Jiu could hear the sounds of an abacus moving and the scrapings of a brush against paper. He knocked before pushing the door open.
“What is it?” A man’s voice greeted him, soft and gentle.
Rong Jiu did not know how to reply. The ghost before him, Mo Ran’s shizun, raised his head and glanced at his visitor when he didn’t receive a response. Whatever he saw—or sensed—made him groan. “Please tell the Fourth King that I am not interested in any of his beauties.” Then, with an apologetic tone, “Sorry to have made you travel all this way. The second Palace is quite a long distance from here.”
Rong Jiu shook his head. “I—I am not here to offer you my services. But… you? Shizun?”
The man before him was Mo Ran’s shizun without a doubt. But he stood there, talking to Rong Jiu without a trace of recognition, in a voice so gentle, so unlike the man he had been introduced to.
Mo Ran’s shizun, Sir Chu, gave him a small smile and chuckled. “I think gongzi might have the wrong person. No matter, you aren’t the first one to make that mistake.”
Rong Jiu had a hard time believing the man. “Sir Chu isn’t Mo Ran’s shizun, then? We met a little over a week ago?”
Sir Chu shook his head. “A young master came by here sometime ago. Mo Ran, you said his nae was? He had been looking for a man that bore a striking resemblance to me. Perhaps that is who you are looking for?”
Rong Jiu did not know enough about souls, or their appearances in the afterlife, to pinpoint why there were two souls with the same likeness. And frankly, he did not care.
“I am not here to look for him.”
“If gongzi isn’t here on the Fourth King’s orders or to look for a lost soul, what might you need from me?”
“Mo Ran, the person that was looking for his shizun, was here to revive him?” Rong Jiu said. It was more of a question than a statement.
Sir Chu hummed in acknowledgment.
“Is there a way I could do that for myself?”
Sir Chu’s gentle smile quivered. “I’m afraid not. Rebirth… is a forbidden technique that can be performed only by a few select cultivators.”
Rong Jiu let the shock of that answer wash over him but did not let it snuff out his hope.
Thinking about it over time—and with the help of Hu Xing’s straightforward advice—Rong Jiu had realized it wasn’t a return to the living world that he was craving.
It was freedom.
He wanted to experience life without being under somebody's thumb the entire time. He wanted to lead a life where he wasn’t being used and discarded on a whim, by the men around him. Mo Ran’s shizun’s had made a jab at the nature of his soul; forever scheming and vengeful. That might’ve been true, yes, but it didn’t mean Rong Jiu had deserved the hand he was dealt. Even so, Rong Jiu wanted to live a life where his schemes weren’t his only tool for survival. Plenty of bad people were born into power and lived lavish lives. If Rong Jiu wanted to live a peaceful life but be vindictive on the side as a hobby, that was nobody’s business but his.
Sir Chu, taking his silence as defeat, stood up from his chair and walked to where Rong Jiu was standing. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” He said and patted Rong Jiu’s shoulder.
Rong Jiu did not shy away from the contact. Instead, he grabbed Sir Chu’s wrists and stared him straight in the eye. “I want a job.”
Stunned, Sir Chu parroted, “A job?”
“Yes, a job,” Rong Jiu clarified. “I’ve escaped the Fourth King’s harem. I was a courtesan in my last life, so I cannot continue with my regular trade without risking recapture. Sir Chu, please help me find a way to sustain a life here in Nanke Town.”
Sir Chu was taken aback by his sudden outburst. But he didn’t push Rong Jiu away. “Gongzi escaped the Palace alone? How did you manage such a feat?”
“One of the guards helped me secure an escape route.” He explained the matter of the barrier and how Hu Xing provided him with the map and an opportunity to escape without being caught or having his soul destroyed. “The incident Mo Ran and his shizun caused was particularly useful,” he concluded with a sardonic smile.
Sir Chu was silent for a moment as he thought over the information Rong Jiu had provided him. “You… are certain that what you want is a job and not perhaps reincarnation.”
“No, I am not ready to let go of everything yet.” Rong Jiu replied without a hint of reluctance. “I refuse to pass on without ever having experienced the comfortable life I was denied.”
Sir Chu appraised him once more, looking over the state of his clothes, the expensive jewelry he was forced to put on, and the manic look in his eyes.
“Well,” He started. “The only job I could give you is one here at Tailwind Hall. What do you think of working the counter here?”
Rong Jiu pondered the offer. He had always been good at dealing with people, talking them down when they were at their angriest, and providing comfort when they needed it. Rong Jiu imagined himself working at Tailwind Hall, donned in modest crimson robes and a mask to hide his features.
Then, with newfound determination in his heart, Rong Jiu nodded at Sir Chu and let go of the iron grip he had on the man's wrists. “I would love to.”
Resolved, Rong Jiu took his very first step toward a future he could finally control. A new profession, in a new town, in a completely different realm from the one he inhabited before.
Rong Jiu was going to make Chang Da, Mo Ran, his master at the brothel, and the slave owner who had sold him off roll in their graves, for never giving him the chance to make something of himself.