At the stroke of midnight, Ye Yunniang, accompanied by Dongqing and Nanny Shi, made her way to the garden crossroads. Dongqing and Nanny Shi were the ones chosen by Blind Zhang, whose astrological readings deemed their birthdates compatible with Ye Yunniang’s, making them suitable companions for burning incense pouches and clothing.

Nanny Shi led the way, carrying a basin in one hand and a lantern in the other. Ye Yunniang and Dongqing followed closely behind, huddled together—unable to help their fear.

The dead of night was so silent that only their footsteps echoed. And the task they were undertaking was hardly ordinary. How could they not be terrified?

Meow~

“Ah!”

“Ah!”

Dongqing and Ye Yunniang shrieked in unison.

Nanny Shi raised her lantern to investigate. “Just a cat,” she scoffed. “No need for such hysterics.”

“B-but… no one in the estate keeps cats,” Dongqing stammered, her voice trembling. Having worked under Zijuan, she knew the household rules well. Old Madam Jiang despised furry creatures like cats and dogs and forbade them from entering the estate. Even stray cats were chased away.

“Then… what was that?” Ye Yunniang’s voice quivered just as much. If not a cat or dog, then what?

Could it be…?

Her steps faltered.

“Listen, I’m an old woman—I can’t outrun either of you. If something wicked lurks here, I’ll be the first to suffer. If I’m not afraid, why should you be?” Nanny Shi’s firm voice steadied Ye Yunniang’s nerves somewhat.

Silently reciting prayers for divine protection, Ye Yunniang whispered, “Let’s go. The sooner we finish, the better.”

Dongqing nodded, and the two mustered their courage, trailing behind Nanny Shi until they reached the garden crossroads.

To the east lay Qu Shui Courtyard, to the west was Fanghua Courtyard, and to the south stood Zhenxia Courtyard.

Following Blind Zhang’s instructions, they placed the basin facing east.

Ye Yunniang knelt, struck a flame, and lit the paper offerings. From her robes, she retrieved an incense pouch containing Jiang Tingjun’s hair, followed by his personal garments, and tossed them into the basin.

The fire devoured the fabric, reducing it to ashes.

Meow~

The sound came again.

A cold breeze brushed the back of Ye Yunniang’s neck, and tiny, icy hands wrapped around her throat—just as Jiang Tingjun used to embrace her.

Her body stiffened. She dared not move, only flicking her eyes toward Nanny Shi and Dongqing.

Someone… help me…

Nanny Shi stood silently by, lantern in hand.

Dongqing kept her head bowed, feeding more paper into the flames.

In the darkness, neither noticed the terror in Ye Yunniang’s eyes.

The chill around her neck deepened. Her heart sank. Will I die here?

Her mother and Pan’er were waiting for her at home. She couldn’t afford to perish now. Regret gnawed at her—had she been too reckless?

“Hold… hold me,” a baby’s voice whispered in her ear, carrying a desperate longing for a mother’s love.

For some reason, Ye Yunniang recalled her own pregnancy—how she would caress her belly daily, whispering to her unborn child, praying for its health. Whenever she mentioned birth, the baby would press a tiny fist against her palm from within.

The grip around her neck tightened, snapping her back to the present.

“Hold me.”

This was a pitiful soul, robbed of the chance to be born.

With a sigh, Ye Yunniang slowly raised her arms and cradled the invisible child.

“Little one, I know you’re resentful. You never got to see the world, to meet your parents, to play under the sun with other children…” Her words stirred the spirit in her arms.

Ye Yunniang soothed it with gentle pats.

“But if you keep haunting your sixth brother, you’ll never move on. You still have a chance—to be reborn, to have everything you desire. Loving parents, siblings…”

The infant clung tighter.

Ye Yunniang gasped for air. Just as she thought she’d suffocate, the tiny hands released her.

Her arms fell empty. She looked down—no shadow remained.

“Ye Yunniang! What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Wake up!” Dongqing frantically waved a hand before her face, panic rising in her voice.

Ye Yunniang had frozen mid-motion while burning the clothes, unresponsive to calls.

“Dongqing, did you see—” Ye Yunniang’s words died as her gaze locked onto the eastern path. There, in the void, a baby tilted its head and grinned at her.

Giggle, giggle.

The same child who had clung to her.

“Ma… bye-bye.”

With those words, it vanished.

“Why are you staring like that? What did you see?” Dongqing followed Ye Yunniang’s fixed gaze eastward but saw nothing. “Ye Yunniang, don’t scare me like this. I’m easily frightened!”

Dongqing had no shame admitting her cowardice.

“It’s gone,” Nanny Shi suddenly remarked.

“Gone…” Ye Yunniang touched her neck.

“Ah—!” Dongqing screamed, staring at Ye Yunniang’s throat.

Under the lantern’s glow, tiny handprints marred her skin.

Before coming to the garden, Dongqing distinctly remembered—Ye Yunniang’s neck had been unmarked.

Recalling how Ye Yunniang had stood motionless earlier, Dongqing collapsed onto the ground, scrambling backward on her hands until she seized Nanny Shi’s hem.

“Are—are you human? Or a ghost?” she shrieked at Ye Yunniang.

Ye Yunniang stood.

“Stay back! I’m not afraid! Don’t come closer! Goddess of Mercy, save me! Nanny Shi, help—!” Dongqing wrapped herself around the old woman’s legs, wailing.

“I’m human. I’m Ye Yunniang,” she insisted, stepping forward.

Dongqing only shrank further away, regretting her greed for the promised reward.

“Dongqing—” Ye Yunniang tried to explain, but the maid’s screams drowned her out.

She turned to Nanny Shi.

The old woman studied her with the lantern’s light, suspicion clouding her eyes.

“I really am Ye Yunniang. I’m not—”

“Who’s there?”

The trio’s commotion—burning paper, shouting—had drawn the attention of the Jiang estate’s night patrol.

They were hauled to Zhuyun Pavilion, the household’s disciplinary quarters.

“Inside.”

Shoved into a windowless, candleless room, the door slammed shut behind them, plunging them into darkness.

After the garden ordeal, Dongqing trembled violently, clinging to Nanny Shi.

“Stay away! Ye Yunniang, whatever you are, let’s talk in daylight!” Ghosts fear the sun, she reasoned. Surely by morning, this nightmare will end.

Understanding her fear, Ye Yunniang retreated to a corner, sitting against the wall.

Her mind replayed the garden’s horrors.

And Jiang Tingjun—how was he now?

Her thoughts spiraled until dawn.

The door creaked open. A burly woman stood at the threshold, glowering.

“Out.”

Ye Yunniang trailed Nanny Shi and Dongqing out of the cell and into Zhuyun Pavilion’s main hall.

At the head of the room sat a stern-faced matron, her expression unyielding.

The burly woman bowed. “Nanny Kong, they’re here.”

Nanny Kong’s gaze swept over the three. “House rules dictate that no one—master or servant—may burn paper offerings without permission. The penalty is three months’ wages and thirty strikes to the palms.”

As attendants moved to enforce the punishment, a voice cut in.

“Wait.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep