Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I had become a wisp of a lonely ghost, following at Xie Zhixing’s side.

I watched him leave the Hanlin Academy after his shift at his new post and take a long detour to the apothecary to buy a packet of dried osmanthus.

Then, passing through the bustling streets and alleys, he couldn’t help buying more-sugar-roasted chestnuts I loved, velvet flowers I would surely like the moment I saw them, freshly bloomed early-summer lotus flowers I would place by the window once I received them…

Bit by bit, he ended up with a whole armful. He wouldn’t even let his pageboy touch any of it, only held it all himself with quiet satisfaction, his steps hurried as he rushed home to see me.

He had just reached our front gate and hadn’t yet pushed it open when someone stopped him. A soldier came to deliver a message, stammering, “Lord Xie, please hurry and take a look! Your wife… died at the east street entrance.”

The odds and ends in Xie Zhixing’s arms clattered to the ground.

He lifted his eyes and fixed them on the man. “What did you say?”

When the soldiers brought him to the east street entrance, a noisy crowd had already gathered there, pointing and whispering at the woman’s corpse lying on the ground.

Her eyes had not been closed. Those wide, staring eyes still seemed to hold traces of terror, agony, and pleading. Her face had been slashed apart, a bloody mess beyond recognition. Her body was filthy, her clothes barely covering her, and her fingernails had scraped against the ground until both hands were smeared with blood.

It was a death that left her not the slightest dignity.

The soldiers in charge of the area said she had been assaulted by bandits and died from it, while the people around them chattered over one another, disgusted by how wanton and shameless the woman must have been.

Xie Zhixing stood outside the crowd. No one else could see through his expression. Only I followed his gaze and saw it land on the ruined wrist of the dead woman.

After becoming a ghost, my memories had grown fragmented and blurred. I always needed some kind of trigger before I could recall certain things.

Now I remembered: there was a tiny mole on my wrist.

But there was none on that corpse’s wrist.

That was not me.

My Xie Zhixing would never mistake someone else for me.

Perhaps the soldiers had identified the wrong person. He should have breathed a sigh of relief, yet I could tell his expression had instead grown heavier.

Xie Zhixing turned to leave, only for a woman in white to block his path.

With pity on her face, she consoled him in a delicate voice, “Lord Xie, please restrain your grief. A woman so filthy and debauched in broad daylight is not worth mourning over.”

Xie Zhixing merely glanced at her. He looked at the hem of her white skirt, where it had been dirtied by a purple stain. It was a very small patch, hardly noticeable. His gaze paused there for a moment, then he walked directly around the woman and left.

He did not listen to a single word of her nonsense, nor did he waste time entangling himself with her. Before he left, he even took off his outer robe and covered the dead woman with it, shielding her from the malicious eyes of the gossiping crowd-even though he knew she was not me.

Everyone thought he had walked away because he could not accept that his wife had been assaulted to death and felt too humiliated to stay.

No one saw Xie Zhixing mount a swift horse and ride to a small mountain village on the outskirts of the capital.

After Xie Zhixing was granted his official position, we had moved together into the residence in the capital bestowed by His Majesty. But before that, we had spent many years in this row of earthen houses in the little mountain village.

This was our old house-our home in the truest sense.

Now, however, black smoke drifted above it. Only charred, broken walls and ruined remains were left. It had clearly just gone through a great fire.

Xie Zhixing fell from his horse. After he climbed back up, he staggered, then stumbled into the ruins and began searching through them frantically-a stark contrast to the calm, expressionless man from moments ago.

He had always buried his true joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness deep within himself. I had never seen him lose control like this.

In the ruins, Xie Zhixing found a charred corpse.

Then he froze.

I saw his pale fingers twitching and trembling uncontrollably.

“Sangsang…”

He called my name in a low voice.