Volume Six: Porcelain Blue Chapter Four: A Return to the Antique Shop

At nine o’clock the next morning, Yaoguang and her companions appeared on the pedestrian street of the financial district. She checked the time, glanced at the passersby, and said, “It’s about time. Kun, go knock.”

“Alright.” Huo Mingkun walked to the street corner, looked around, and tapped three times on the wall.

A door slowly appeared. Yaoguang pulled it open and stepped inside.

Everything was just as before. Jiang Yun recalled her first time entering this place, then thought of that day’s events, and finally looked at Yaoguang beside her; it all felt like a lifetime ago. The mysterious workings of fate in this world truly were strange.

“You’re here, top-grade Dahongpao tea, have a taste.” Biluo’s voice called from inside.

“Stolen from that tree again, I suppose.” Yaoguang sat down.

“Girl, it’s been a while. How have you been?” Biluo smiled at Jiang Yun.

“Thank you, boss, all is well.” Jiang Yun replied with a smile.

“The tea’s excellent. Yours is always the best.” Yaoguang said.

“Oh, please, is there anything your Ling Mountain doesn’t have? And yet you come here to curry favor.” Biluo sat as well.

“Let’s change the subject, then. Here, explain this.” Yaoguang placed a blue and white porcelain bottle on the table.

“I knew that’s why you came,” Biluo said.

“Then tell me, what’s the story?” Yaoguang asked.

“This item came from a tomb raider I once met. It was quite a coincidence—I happened to run into that group just as they emerged. One of them I knew; he had this bottle in hand, so I took it off him while it was still fresh. Not long after, when I opened for business, that Zhou Junbo came and took the bottle away.” Biluo sipped his tea as he spoke.

“That’s not what I’m asking. I could have guessed as much. I want to know the story behind this bottle,” Yaoguang pressed.

“Oh, that. It’s actually simple. The original owner was named Qinghan. He was responsible for firing blue and white porcelain for the imperial family. Qinghan had a companion named Taoyao, and this bottle was made for her. Later, a man named Zhu Guangxuan commissioned a batch of porcelain from Qinghan. When Zhu visited his home, he became enamored with Taoyao and plotted to murder Qinghan, seizing both Taoyao and the bottle. Taoyao was brought into the Zhu household, but Zhu Guangxuan abused her to death, and soon after, he fell gravely ill and died himself.” Biluo took another sip of tea.

“That’s it?” Yaoguang asked.

“That’s it.” Biluo nodded seriously.

“Are you joking? Give me the Dreamweaver Pearl.” Yaoguang shot him a look.

“I don’t have it,” Biluo replied.

“Don’t even try. Hand it over,” Yaoguang insisted.

“I really don’t have it,” Biluo feigned stubbornness.

“Don’t make me use force.” Yaoguang raised her hand.

“Alright, alright. I give up. This Dreamweaver would fetch a tidy sum at Granny Meng’s, you know,” Biluo grumbled as he reluctantly handed over a box.

Yaoguang opened it. Inside lay a pink pearl. She infused it with spiritual energy, and the pearl began to spin slowly. Images appeared, one after another:

That year, the peach blossoms were in full bloom. A gentle breeze stirred, scattering petals everywhere. Beneath a peach tree stood a young woman, serene and lovely, adorned in pink, her hair dark as night, skin fair as snow—a simple smile from her could topple cities and kingdoms.

Across from her, a man held a paintbrush, concentrating intently on his work. He painted with great care. The girl watched him from beneath the tree, happiness shining in her eyes.

After a while, the man looked up. “Ah, it’s finished. Come, have a look.” He beckoned to the girl.

“It’s beautiful, Qinghan. Your skills grow finer every day.” She praised him.

“When this batch of porcelain goes into the kiln, I’ll add this one as well. It’ll be even more beautiful when it’s done,” Qinghan replied with satisfaction.

“When will it be fired? The weather’s been clear lately,” the girl asked, glancing at the cloudless sky.

“We’ll wait a little longer. Don’t worry, Taoyao.” Qinghan comforted her.

“How can I not worry? The deadline for this batch is near. If we fail to deliver, we’ll pay dearly,” Taoyao said, pouting as she sat, staring at her toes.

“Don’t worry, I believe Heaven will help us,” Qinghan reassured her.

“Alright.” Taoyao smiled.

“When these are done, we’ll return home and get married,” Qinghan said, wrapping an arm around her.

“Yes, and I’ll bring the bottle you made for me,” Taoyao replied, leaning against him with a radiant smile.

Seeing her so happy, Qinghan smiled too, though anxiety gnawed at him. The delivery was looming, the skies remained stubbornly clear—no sign of the rain needed to produce that famed post-rain sky blue the Emperor desired. Since childhood he’d trained in porcelain-making under his master. Seventeen years had passed, and now, with his master gone, the weight of firing porcelain for the imperial family fell to him. He never understood why the Emperor chose him among so many artisans—every day was lived on a knife’s edge. He’d had enough; once this batch was finished, he was done for good. There was no point earning money he’d never live to spend.

“Qinghan, look!” Taoyao pointed to the distant sky, where dark clouds began to gather.

“Taoyao, prepare the kiln!” Qinghan’s heart leaped with joy.

“On it!” Taoyao quickly changed clothes and got to work.

“Seal the kiln, light the fire!” As soon as Qinghan spoke, the flames roared to life, and rain began to fall.

“Qinghan, it’s a misty rain—perfect!” Taoyao beamed.

The rain fell gently, the fire blazed, and the young couple kept watch in quiet anticipation as time passed.

“Open the kiln!” At Qinghan’s call, a new batch of porcelain emerged. The clouds dispersed, revealing a sky of pure blue.

“Post-rain sky blue!” Taoyao leapt with excitement.

“This bottle is truly beautiful. I love it,” Taoyao said, admiring the vase inside.

“As long as you like it,” Qinghan replied, smiling.

“An imperial edict!” a shrill voice announced. “Qinghan, receive the decree!”

“Your humble servant receives the edict,” Qinghan and Taoyao hurriedly knelt.

“By the Emperor’s command, Qinghan is ordered to fire a batch of blue porcelain for Prince Ning’s heir. Thus decreed.” The eunuch handed over the edict.

Qinghan accepted it. “Sir, wasn’t it promised that I could return home after fulfilling the previous order?”

“Are you defying the Emperor?” the eunuch snapped, his voice even sharper.

“I wouldn’t dare,” Qinghan replied softly.

“Hmph, you don’t know what’s good for you.” The eunuch glared and left. Qinghan could only clutch the edict, speechless.

“Qinghan, get up. Don’t be upset, I’m here with you,” Taoyao encouraged, holding his hand.

Qinghan forced a smile at her.

“Let’s see how the porcelain is coming along!” Several days later, a loud, arrogant voice shattered the morning calm—it was Prince Ning’s heir, Zhu Guangxuan.

“Greetings, Your Highness. The porcelain is being fired,” Taoyao said, stepping out to greet him, as it happened Qinghan was out procuring supplies.

“Well, well, such a lovely girl,” Zhu Guangxuan’s eyes were glued to her. He reached out to touch Taoyao’s face.

“Spare me, Your Highness,” Taoyao dodged.

“Why not come with me? You’ll live in luxury,” Zhu Guangxuan leered, not blinking.

“I’m not worthy, Your Highness. Please, have mercy,” Taoyao continued to evade him.

“Hmph, don’t know what’s good for you. I hear Qinghan is reluctant to fire porcelain for me? No matter, I have my ways. I’ll let you go for now. We have plenty of time,” Zhu Guangxuan said, then signaled his men, “Keep an eye on this place. When the kiln is nearly sealed, you know what to do.”

“Yes, sir,” his attendant replied.

When Qinghan returned, Taoyao told him what happened. He was deeply troubled and determined to escape with her after this batch, no matter what. But they didn’t realize the devil’s hand was already reaching for them.

Back at his residence, Zhu Guangxuan was obsessed with Taoyao’s beauty, unable to eat or sleep. He waited several days until the time came to seal the kiln.

That morning, after preparing the firewood and placing the last piece inside, Qinghan was about to leave the kiln when a hand shoved him back in. In horror, he saw men sealing the exit.

“What are you doing?” Taoyao cried, rushing out to see men quickly bricking up the kiln. She tried to stop them but was thrown to the ground.

“Qinghan! Qinghan!” She realized what was happening.

“Light the fire!” With a roar, the flames surged.

“Qinghan! Qinghan!” Taoyao screamed, her voice raw, until someone knocked her out.

“Let me out! Let me out!” Qinghan’s voice grew ever fainter amid the flames, until it vanished.

When Taoyao awoke, she found herself lying disheveled on a large bed. “No, no…” She knew what had happened and wept, her heart broken.

“Why cry? Being with me is a blessing,” Zhu Guangxuan sneered, entering.

“You beast, I’ll kill you!” Taoyao seized a hairpin and lunged at him.

“Impudent! How dare you?” Zhu Guangxuan grabbed her wrist and slapped her hard. “Men! Take this woman away for the others.”

“Zhu Guangxuan, you’ll die a miserable death!” Taoyao’s cries were soon drowned in the men’s vile laughter.

Night fell. Taoyao lay on straw, her eyes dry, her body numb with pain.

“Zhu Guangxuan, you’ll die a miserable death.” She forced herself up, used her hairpin to cut her own skin, letting blood stain her clothes. She bit her tongue, pressing a drop of blood to her forehead. Step by step, she walked to Prince Ning’s main hall, tied her sash to the beam, slipped her head through, and kicked away the stool.

“Aaah!” A scream at dawn startled the entire household.

The steward nearly fainted at the sight of the woman hanging from the main beam. “Wicked son!”

Zhu Guangxuan, seeing Taoyao’s corpse, collapsed in terror and fainted.

“Don’t haunt me! Leave me alone!” From then on, Zhu Guangxuan went mad, hiding inside, afraid to go out.

“Zhu Guangxuan, give me back my life…” Every night, he saw the ghost of a woman in red crawling onto him. At last, weakened and dying, he roused for a final moment: “You wretch, even in death you won’t let me go. I won’t let you go either.” He dressed in red, pressed blood to his own forehead, and crawled back to bed, laughing.

By morning, Zhu Guangxuan was dead, eyes wide open, staring at the canopy, refusing to close.

The entire Prince Ning household was draped in mourning. It was Zhu Guangxuan’s funeral.

“My lord, the young master died in red with blood at his brow—his soul will never rest. He must be buried upright,” the geomancer said, consulting his compass.

“Do as you must,” Prince Ning said, waving him away.

Years later, Prince Ning was implicated in treason; his entire family was executed…

“Truly, those who bring disaster upon themselves cannot live,” Yaoguang said, putting the Dreamweaver Pearl back in its box.

“Taoyao and Qinghan’s fate is tragic. Master, don’t you think Professor Zhou resembles Qinghan? And the attendant maiden on the vase—Zhou’s painting looks exactly like Taoyao,” Jiang Yun said, coming back to herself.

“You’re right. Professor Zhou is Qinghan reborn, or that vase would never have ended up in his hands. I think you all understand the rest,” Biluo said, putting the box away.

“Died in red, blood at the brow—the makings of a vengeful spirit. No wonder there are two ghosts at Professor Zhou’s house. The male ghost must be Zhu Guangxuan, the female Taoyao. That explains everything,” Yaoguang said.

“But, Sister Phoenix, Zhu Guangxuan killed Qinghan in his past life—why would he want to kill Professor Zhou now? It doesn’t make sense,” Huo Mingkun wondered aloud.

“That’s easy. Zhu Guangxuan was frightened to death by Taoyao, who refused him because he killed Qinghan. Seeing Professor Zhou, he thinks it’s Qinghan again and wants to kill him,” Yaoguang explained.

“Zhu Guangxuan is truly unreasonable,” Huo Mingkun said with contempt.

“He was no good in life; how could he be better in death? Especially now, as a vengeful spirit. What a mess.” Yaoguang sighed. “And that geomancer was an idiot—died in red, blood at the brow, and so full of resentment, yet still buried upright. After so many years, Zhu Guangxuan has probably… Ah…” Yaoguang shook her head helplessly, feeling more than a little overwhelmed.

“Sister Phoenix, what do you mean?” Huo Mingkun asked, seeing her troubled face.

“I fear Zhu Guangxuan has become a corpse fiend,” Xuan Chen snapped at him.

“A corpse fiend…” Huo Mingkun was stunned. “Is it hard to deal with?”

“It’s not just hard—it’s extremely difficult,” Xuan Chen replied, twisting the knife further.

“So what do we do?” Huo Mingkun asked.

“What else? Difficult or not, we have to handle it. If I’m right, Zhu Guangxuan’s body has become a corpse fiend, while the ghost in Professor Zhou’s house is his soul. We must take care of the corpse first, or the ghost will never dissipate. Looks like I’ll have to visit the Ghost Market. Biluo, give me the location of the tomb.” Yaoguang took the box with the Dreamweaver Pearl.

“Are you sure?” Biluo asked.

“I’m not sure. You brought this bottle back and caused all this trouble,” Yaoguang grumbled.

“Such are the workings of fate,” Biluo said, unconcerned.

“Whatever.” Yaoguang rolled her eyes and left the antique shop.

“Sister Phoenix, what’s our next move?” Huo Mingkun asked as they stood on the pedestrian street.

“Tonight we split up. Xuan Chen, Tianyou, Jiang Yun—you three go get what I asked for. Kun, you’re coming with me to the Ghost Market. For now, let’s go back to my place.” Yaoguang started the car.