024. Trading
The weather was getting warmer, and Qingling had changed into lighter clothes. He had just turned 18 years old two years ago. The plain wide-sleeved green shirt embroidered with bamboo patterns made him look as handsome and tall as a green bamboo after the rain. Although he was a little thinner, he was not short. However, he still did not look as good as Shang Changheng, who was a head taller than him.
Three days had passed since he returned from the yamen, and Magistrate Luo seemed to really not dare to make any more moves. A lot of Qing's things were sold, and some shops that had no one to sell were rented out temporarily. Qingling, who had always lived in poverty, finally had a bulge in his pockets, but his life was still in the hands of that evil spirit, so he could not rest easy.
He simply began to study the techniques collected by the Qing family seriously, and in his spare time he tried to find some information about the royal family of the Shang family of the Zhou Dynasty. The former was so that he would not be helpless when the evil spirits tried to kill him, and the latter was actually meaningless in Qing Ling's view, but as the saying goes, knowing yourself and your enemy, you can fight a hundred battles with no danger of defeat.
He always wanted to know where this evil spirit came from.
However, Emperor Ling of Zhou often appears in unofficial histories. Apart from his romantic anecdotes, most of the stories are about the tragedy of this king who lost his country, and even the cause of his death.
After the fall of the Zhou Dynasty, the Central Plains was in chaos, foreign tribes invaded, natural disasters and wars continued year after year, the world was torn apart, and princes rose up everywhere. Emperor Ling of Zhou, as the last emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty, was in a very embarrassing situation at that time. There were no useful ministers in the court. In the end, he either died for the Great Zhou or died at the hands of the Qiang people in Mobei. In short, this emperor did not even have an imperial tomb.
In unofficial histories, most people evaluate Emperor Ling of Zhou as "born at the wrong time and accomplished little", but these are all words of later generations. For some reason, although the emperors of the Zhou Dynasty are clearly recorded in the history books, there are very few records about Emperor Ling, and even the records of his reign are blank.
Some information about the emperor before him also seemed to be deliberately erased, such as how many princes he had and which one Emperor Ling of Zhou was. There was no record of him at all, only the statement that he was the legitimate son of the empress.
Suddenly, a gust of wind blew the window shut. Qingling looked up due to the sound and realized that the room had become much darker.
He rubbed his sore eyes, stood up and walked out the door, stood under the eaves and looked around, only to find that the sky had been covered with dark clouds without him noticing, whereas it was still bright daylight when he woke up in the morning.
The four seasons have an order, with changes in weather, just like the misfortunes and blessings of a person from day to day.
In just a few breaths, lightning flashed through the clouds, followed by loud thunder in the dark clouds.
"What are you looking at?" Shang Changheng's voice sounded from the side.
He always appears suddenly and inexplicably like this.
Qing Ling was already used to it. He tilted his head to glance at Shang Changheng. He had a solid body, long black eyelashes, and eyebrows that reached his temples. His profile was so handsome that he looked like a piece of jade. He was just a little too pale, but otherwise there was no difference between him and a living person.
However, his expression was not very good at the moment. His eyes were looking solemnly at the sky, as if he was facing a powerful enemy.
"Nothing, just taking a break." Qing Ling said, and then asked: "How much do you remember?"
"A lot, but very messy." Shang Changheng looked into the distance at the sky, where dark clouds blocked the light and a sudden rain was about to fall. His chaotic and fragmented memories also had such scenes. Under the pouring rain, there were corpses all over the mountains, broken spears and swords, and rivers of blood. Some people were crying and howling, and some were screaming, which finally condensed into a desperate, black picture.
"My soul is trapped in the coffin. I only remember that the person who guarded my tomb was the one who cast the curse to prevent my reincarnation." Shang Changheng's tone was sinister and resentful, and his hatred was like an endless sea. "The Qing family relied on my luck to survive--"
He suddenly stopped, looking stunned.
Qing Ling thought for a moment before he said softly, "A thousand years. It has been a thousand years since the fall of the Zhou Dynasty. You remember your name, but you don't remember who you are?"
After a long while, Shang Changheng finally said "hmm", and then he murmured to himself, "A thousand years."
Times have changed and the world has changed dramatically.
This evil ghost from a thousand years ago remembered his name and remembered that the Qing family had trapped him in an ancient tomb. Apart from these, he probably didn't remember much else, otherwise he should have taken action long ago instead of staying in this small courtyard with him all day long.
"What are you going to do?" Qing Ling asked.
Another thunderclap sounded, and Shang Changheng's face became even worse. He was in a trance for a moment before he said, "I will remember it eventually. When I remember it..."
"Shang Changheng." Qing Ling whispered, "If, if I help you regain your memory, or... find out what happened a thousand years ago, can you let me go?"
Shang Changheng sneered, "I am an evil ghost. Your life is in my hands. If I trick you into helping me and then kill you, what can you do?"
Qing Ling thought for a moment before saying, "Do you agree to treat me as unlucky?"
Shang Changheng remained silent, and after a while he said, "You really dare to gamble."
"I can't help it." Qing Ling sighed, "Even if there is a glimmer of hope, I want to take a chance. Shang Changheng, I will do my best to help you. How about you spare my life?"
Shang Changheng finally turned his head, and just then there was a flash of lightning. His pale and handsome face, facing away from the light, looked gloomy and indifferent.
He said, “You can try.”
Qing Ling replied: "Okay."
He was willing to take a gamble this time. Judging from what Shang Changheng had done to the Qing family, this evil ghost was very vengeful. He didn't even know the whole story. He only remembered that the tomb keeper had cursed him and that it was related to his fate. Relying on the cause and effect he could sense, he wiped out the Qing family. It can be seen that this evil ghost must not be able to let go of what happened in his previous life.
It's just that he can't remember, so he hasn't taken the next step, but he must still have obsessions in the human world.
Qing Ling only hoped to get rid of this terrible evil ghost as soon as possible. Although people will die one day, even ants try to survive, and he just wanted to live.
Another bolt of thunder struck.
Shang Changheng became visibly agitated. He turned around and was about to go back to his room, but after taking a few steps, he returned and took Qingling away by the waist. As soon as he entered the room, the door closed, and he stood there hugging Qingling tightly.
Qingling naturally felt puzzled. Weren’t they talking fine just now?
Qingling was still reluctant to have sex with this evil ghost. He could enjoy it by indulging in it, but the person beside him was an evil ghost who wanted to kill him. Just for this reason, Qingling would subconsciously refuse out of fear.
"Don't move." Shang Changheng's voice was low and hoarse, as if he was holding back something, "I just... hug you."
Qingling finally realized that something seemed to be wrong with him. After hesitating for a while, he wanted to ask him what was wrong. It happened that it was raining outside, accompanied by bursts of thunder and lightning. There were thunder and lightning outside the window, and Qingling seemed to understand something.
The last time there was such a thunderstorm was at Zhanlong Mountain. The mountain was covered with thick fog and he had nowhere to escape. But that day, a loud thunder struck and Shang Changheng disappeared. The fog also dissipated, and he was able to find a chance to escape.
"Are you...afraid of thunder?" Qingling asked in a low voice.
Shang Changheng's voice was filled with repression as he said in a low voice, "Thunder is like a strong energy, it is the most yang, and it naturally overcomes yin things."
It made sense. Qingling always felt that it was weird to stand together and hug each other, but sitting and hugging each other was not much better. As for going to the couch... that was too ambiguous. After thinking about it, he asked in a low voice: "I met Yuan's ghost on the mountain road that day. He must be a newly dead ghost. Master Miaoyuan said that it was not even the seventh day after the death. How could he come out?"
"It's the same as a big tree attracts the wind." Shang Changheng said, "The heavenly thunder won't pay too much attention to evil creatures that are too weak."
In other words, he, a ghost who was forced to stay in the world of the living for a thousand years, was too strong and was affected even more. But Qingling still didn't understand. If the soul of a person stayed in the world of the living for too long after death, it would dissipate regardless of whether it could become a ghost or not. Shang Changheng was sealed in a coffin for a thousand years. It would be fine if he was not so weak that his soul flew away after he came out, but how could he be so strong that he could have such unpredictable means?
There must be something special about him.
Qing Ling was hugged for a long time. Shang Changheng was too tall. He was not very comfortable being hugged like this. His neck was almost stiff. Qing Ling couldn't help but whispered, "Can you... hold me in a different position? Like sitting down?"
Shang Changheng lowered his eyes and looked at the person in his arms who was looking at him seriously. That was his fragile and beautiful wife. Holding him like this, she could feel his vibrant body temperature, the pulsation on the side of his neck, the flowing blood, and even the heartbeat in his chest. He was alive.
It made him envious and jealous to the point of going crazy.
The nature of evil ghosts is evil. No matter how Shang Changheng regains his sanity, he is still a thousand-year-old evil ghost. He thinks darkly and madly that as long as he wants, he can easily get this body, live again like the person in his arms, and feel the warmth of sunlight and the taste of food again.
But he didn't want to, and his wife was reserved and shy on the couch, occasionally she would show a pitiful and fragile expression because she didn't want to. Maybe it was a cold and stubborn resistance, but the difference was not big. He possessed this body in another way.
Not bad either.
"Shang Changheng." Qing Ling felt uneasy when he saw his deep eyes, so he reminded him.
Shang Changheng didn't say anything, but picked him up and carried him sideways, sitting back in front of the desk where Qingling had just sat, and put Qingling on his lap. He just happened to see the unofficial history book that Qingling closed before leaving, which was called "Biographies of Zhou Emperors".
Qing Ling explained: "There is no record in the official history, we can only look at this..."
Before he could utter these words, a loud thunder suddenly struck in front of the door, and the wooden door was charred black. The sparks were quickly extinguished by the heavy rain, and Qingling trembled with fear. The power of heaven and earth was truly terrifying.
However, the next bolt of lightning struck the door again, and Qingling felt that something was not right.
Shang Changheng was already irritable, and now his face became completely gloomy. He whispered, "Someone is taking advantage of the weather to attract thunder."
Qing Ling was horrified and subconsciously shrank closer to Shang Changheng's arms. Could it be that this corpse-born son of his, whose eight characters and ten gods were all yin and not even yang fire, would also be mistaken for an evil spirit and struck by the thunder?
The wooden door that was broken open slowly by itself. Qingling looked out and saw the door being forcibly broken open. Miaoyuan, wearing a gray monk's robe, stood in front of the door and shouted coldly, "Death, evil spirit!"
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