Chapter 59: the quarrel of the dead
The sun had already vanished behind the high vermilion walls of Duke Lian’s estate, leaving behind streaks of rose and violet that faded into the hush of night.
Soft laughter floated from the garden where maids were lighting oil lamps, their warm glow spilling over the carved railings. The air slled faintly of incense and blooming jasmine.
Inside her chamber, Empress Lian An sat by the window, chin propped on her palm, a half-finished embroidery fra before her.
The golden thread hung loose from the needle, forming a crooked phoenix tail — the image of a bird that looked more like a dying chicken than a royal emblem.
She frowned at it.
Then sighed.
The palace might have been peaceful, but her mind wasn’t.
It had been three whole days since she last saw them — her ghostly trio of chaos. The once ever-present laughter, the teasing comnts, the ghostly hands tugging her sleeves — all gone.
Silence.
It was almost suspiciously quiet.
Her lips pursed. "They better not have gotten themselves exorcised," she muttered. "Or worse... maybe so wandering witch trapped them in a spirit jar for extra pocket money."
Then she shook her head. "No, that’s impossible. They’d haunt the witch within five minutes and steal her broomstick for fun."
Still, a part of her couldn’t help but wonder where her ridiculous spirit companions had gone.
"Honestly," she said to the empty room, poking at the embroidery with a sigh. "If they’ve gone to terrorize the kitchens again, I’m not saving them this ti."
---
A Sudden Crash
Her musings were cut short by a bang — loud enough to make her embroidery fra jump.
The chamber door rattled violently as if sothing invisible had slamd into it.
And then —
"You two-faced cheating scholar!"
The voice was shrill, furious, and painfully familiar.
Lian An blinked once, expression flat. "...Found them."
Before she could rise, the door flew open of its own accord — a gust of cold air swirling inside like a miniature storm. Her candle flas flickered wildly, and the temperature dropped several degrees.
Then ca the chaos.
"Your Majesty!" Fen Yu, the fiery female ghost, burst through the wall instead of the doorway, her long sleeves in tatters, her translucent hair floating like wild silk. "You won’t believe what that rotten scholar did!"
Hot on her tail ca Wei Rong, the old general ghost, floating in behind her with an exasperated scowl. His armor shimred faintly, though one shoulder plate appeared dented. "Oh, we’re telling her now? Fine! Then tell her how you started a war in a tea shop!"
Finally — floating in with the guilty calm of a cat that just destroyed an altar — was Li Shen, the scholar ghost. His usually neat robes were covered in ash, his ink-stained hands raised in surrender.
"I didn’t start anything!" he cried. "I was having tea — just tea! — with a friend."
Fen Yu shrieked, "A friend?! You call that spirit-leeching temptress from the East Cetery a friend?!"
Lian An pinched the bridge of her nose. "Here we go again..."
---
The Accusation
Wei Rong, ever the dramatic old soldier, slamd his phantom spear butt on the floor — purely for effect, since it passed through the tiles harmlessly. "Allow
to report, Your Majesty. Li Shen here decided to go on a ’literary outing’ with a female ghost!"
"It was a scholarly discussion!" Li Shen interjected.
"Over tea," Fen Yu spat. "At night! Under the moon!"
The scholar ghost groaned. "Because ghosts can’t go out in daylight, Fen Yu!"
"Oh really?" she sneered. "Then why did she call you ’sweet quill’ and feed you lotus cakes?!"
Lian An’s brows rose. "She called you what now?"
Li Shen turned the color of mist. "It’s— it’s a term of poetic endearnt."
Fen Yu scoffed. "Poetic, my foot! She’s a spirit-sucking banshee with too much rouge!"
Wei Rong folded his arms. "And naturally, we went to defend his honor."
"Defend?" Lian An echoed, crossing her arms. "That never ends well with you three."
---
The "Battle"
Fen Yu jabbed a finger toward Wei Rong. "He brought his spear and broke their tea table!"
"It was an accident!" Wei Rong bellowed. "I was gesturing!"
"With your weapon?!" Li Shen exclaid.
"She threw a teapot first!" Wei Rong protested.
Fen Yu huffed. "She did, after I called her a spirit leech and told her her hair looked like a burnt broom."
Lian An groaned into her hand. "Of course you did."
The general puffed his chest. "We fought bravely! Three versus four, Your Majesty!"
"Three?"
"Yes," Fen Yu said proudly.
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