chapter 3
I swallowed, my heart racing wildly.
Rip.
The doors and windows tore open at once. A sinister wind rushed inside, and the room quickly filled with the stench of putrefaction.
“Hold your breath.”
His cool breath once again brushed my lips. My ears grew hot, and I hastily obeyed.
The foul odor intensified. A black shadow slowly appeared beyond the bed curtain—a newly rotted corpse, a thick, dark mass oozing pus from every inch. It raised both arms stiffly, empty sockets staring ahead.
I gripped the front of Zhenguan’s robe, accidentally pulling him closer. His long leg came down heavily against me. I glanced down. We fit far too closely. Between nerves and terror, my cheeks felt near boiling.
He looked down at me. Something shifted in his eyes, and he leaned back slightly to put some space between us.
Another rip.
The pair of rigid, rotting hands slashed forward, tearing through the blue bed curtains. They stopped a mere palm’s breadth from him.
Zhenguan went still. From where I lay, I saw his Adam’s apple move. A clear bead of sweat fell onto my cheek, slid along my jaw, and rolled inside my collar, tracing every inch of hidden skin. I shuddered and met his gaze.
His eyes were cool, lucid, utterly pure. In their clarity, I saw my own eyes clouded with desire. Shame flooded me. I looked away and up at the corpse.
It cocked its head and swept its hands from side to side, searching. Its nostrils flared as if scenting something. My heart pounded. The breath I had taken amid the panic was nowhere near enough.
“Hah…” I could not hold it any longer.
The withered hands slashed down like iron blades. Two broad palms seized my waist and rolled me inward. A pair of cool, soft clouds pressed over my lips. A hand covered my eyes, plunging me into darkness, while a rich current of pure spiritual breath surged forcefully into my mouth and flooded my chest…
Like a drowning woman, I drank greedily of that fresh breath. Subtle sandalwood overwhelmed my senses. His cool palm lay against my waist; the cloud-soft lips rested upon mine and pressed gently, gradually filling them. A tingling languor spread like ink dropped in water, racing through every limb and bone.
I suddenly realized what was happening. In the darkness, my mind rang blankly.
Another strange vision flashed before me: a toppled bookcase, scrolls and paintings strewn everywhere, prayer beads torn loose, bells chiming. “Zhenguan…” Panting breaths mingled with soft moans…
White robes repeatedly sinking into abandon, black prayer beads sliding through long fingers.
Through the haze, I heard that cool, low chant once more.
“All appearances are illusory.”
An eerie groan came from above.
“All conditioned phenomena are like dreams, illusions, bubbles, and shadows; like dew and lightning…”
The visions burst one by one like bubbles. My thoughts were dragged back to the present. Another violent commotion sounded as several more corpses arrived. They conversed in low, mournful moans. Something scraped away from one side of the bed, and the overpowering stench gradually receded. Doors and windows rattled, then slammed shut again.
Silence reigned for a long while.
The softness abruptly left my lips, and the hand over my eyes withdrew at the same instant.
The first glimmer of light seemed blurred. I rubbed my eyes. Zhenguan’s vivid carmine lips hovered close, made all the brighter by his snowy skin. The lingering tingle still burned through me.
All at once, I understood that woman painter driven mad by obsession. It was very difficult not to lose one’s heart to a monk like this…
“Zhenguan…” I tipped my face up and called him softly.
Crack.
The bed collapsed.
The chaos tossed us around, and I landed on the floor without the slightest pain. Looking down, I discovered that the man beneath me had one hand braced on the broken planks and the other wrapped around me. I lay sprawled across his body, face tilted upward…
He looked down at me. I looked up at him. We stared at each other in silence.
“Zhenguan…” My lips moved. I no longer wanted to call him Master. Zhenguan came much more naturally.
He frowned, his hoarse voice tightly controlled. “Move aside first.”
“What?” My face flamed all over again. I scrambled off him, propped myself on both hands, and slowly sat up. “Well… Zhenguan, just now, you…” I licked my lips. That softness had branded itself into me; once tasted, it could not be forgotten. It was a little addictive.
I hesitated over how to ask. He had kissed me…
He pushed himself upright with one hand. As he watched me, shadows surged in his eyes and the cinnabar between his brows flickered like flame. He seemed to understand my unfinished question and parted his lips.
“…”
His black prayer beads suddenly gave off a faint golden glow. The red flame between his brows went out at once, and his eyes cleared.
“I was passing you breath,” he explained in a deep voice.
I bit my lip. His clean, cool taste remained painfully distinct.
“But aren’t you very powerful? Couldn’t you defeat them? What were you afraid of…”
He held my gaze and answered calmly, “Those walking corpses are not like the ghosts in the painted walls. Evil sorcery drove their transformation. Once we locate their graves and perform the proper rites, they will be at peace. This humble monk did not wish to harm them.”
He paused, brows drawing faintly together. His eyes moved downward. His expression abruptly changed.
“Benefactress, you may get up now.”
My ears burned again. “Oh. I forgot.” I climbed off him slowly and pointed at the shattered bed boards, yawning despite myself. “Zhenguan, what now? There’s no bed left.”
“It will be dawn soon…” He rose as well and answered quietly. Then his brow furrowed. Turning his back, he gave a low cough.
“I haven’t slept enough…” I darted around to face him—and saw that his face had gone deathly pale, bright blood welling at the corner of his lips.
“Zhenguan, what’s wrong?” I hurried closer and reached to wipe it away. He stepped back to avoid me and cleaned it himself. Then he gave me a cool, distant look.
“Nothing.”
Something was plainly wrong. Who spat blood for no reason? Why did he avoid me as though I were a serpent? I withdrew my hand with an awkward little smile, straightened my skirt, and ignored him. I carried a stool to the window to wait for daylight.
It was so quiet.
Wretched monk. Couldn’t he tell I was angry? When I ignored him, he truly did ignore me.
The North Star shimmered faintly on the horizon. I swung my legs, snapped off a sprig of winter plum outside the window, and twirled it in my fingers.
How boring…
After resisting the impulse countless times, I finally struck up a conversation.
“Zhenguan, I’m actually quite important.”
A soft questioning sound came from behind me. “Hm?”
I turned, smoothed my wrinkled red skirts, cleared my throat, and met his eyes.
“I am the Seventh Princess, Xing Zhizhi.”
“Mm.” His response remained utterly unruffled.
That single sound silenced me. Very well. All beings were equal in the eyes of a monk.
After a pause, I continued. “Zhenguan, do you have some incurable illness? I can take you to the finest imperial physicians and give you the best medicines. We will certainly cure you.”
He lowered his gaze and said nothing. A moment later, he picked up his traveling bundle and approached the window.
“Little Highness, are you still tired?”
Confused, I nodded.
He stood beside me, bent, and rested his arm on the windowsill. Pointing to it, he watched me. “Would you like to lean here and sleep a little longer?”
My face reddened in spite of me, and the corners of my lips insisted on rising. I nodded eagerly and was about to lay my cheek on his arm when he placed his bundle over it, creating a barrier between us.
“Oh?”
He gazed at me, his lovely brows relaxing like white clouds unfurling atop a mountain. His lips remained pressed together without the trace of a smile, yet somehow—by some miracle—he looked very gentle.
“Sleep, Little Highness.” His voice was soft, its final note lingering.
My heartstrings quivered again. The subtle sandalwood scent drifted from him. It smelled unbearably good.
I could not refuse. I rested against his arm with the traveling bundle between us. My taut nerves loosened at once. In the sweetness of sleep, the dark night, the ruined temple, and the hundred ghosts in the painted walls all dissolved into endless moonlight.