Witchcraft
The next day, Liang Hongyu asked Qiu Feng to investigate the matter of the drug.
Her guess was correct. The person who drugged her was indeed Concubine Pan. She never thought that Concubine Pan would use such a despicable method to target her.
"Your Majesty, you must be careful to guard against Concubine Pan in the future. If she fails to harm you this time, she must have a backup plan." Qiu Feng reminded.
"Send someone to keep an eye on Concubine Pan. If she makes any unusual movements, report to me immediately."
"Yes." Qiu Feng took the order and left.
Liang Hongyu felt her head spinning. She had originally planned to accept life in the palace and stay by Zhao Gou's side, perhaps even inspiring his resolve to fight the Jin army. But now it seemed the palace was fraught with danger, and the dangers she faced were no less than those on the battlefield.
At that moment, she looked out the window and saw two birds flying through the air, leaving behind a clear, low cry. When would she be able to fly out of the palace walls like the birds and regain her freedom? Perhaps she would remain here for the rest of her life, even if she was favored by the emperor. She was now a target of public criticism, coveted by the other concubines, who constantly wanted her life. She couldn't understand why so many beautiful women would fight and bleed for a single man. Was such a life really worth it?
For Concubine Pan, her son is gone and she has fallen out of favor. Her life no longer has any meaning. How can she survive within this huge palace? Perhaps only a life of fighting and competing can make her feel that she is still alive, rather than being abandoned.
When her first plan failed, she devised another. Even before she entered the palace, she had heard of a kind of witchcraft that could easily take someone's life without getting close. So she sent her personal maid, Chenxiang, to inquire outside the palace about someone who could perform this technique.
Chenxiang learned about a secret place outside the capital where a woman named Cao Po practiced this kind of witchcraft, so Concubine Pan followed Chenxiang to this place.
This place looked like any other courtyard. They walked into the house, which was dimly lit. A woman sat with her back to the room, wearing a crown covered in raven feathers. She was mumbling something. When she heard someone come in, she asked, "Is this a concubine from the palace?"
Upon hearing this, Concubine Pan turned around and angrily scolded Chenxiang, "Who told you to tell others about my identity?"
Chenxiang's face paled upon hearing the rebuke, and even in the darkness of the room, her paling could be seen. Concubine Pan was usually a bit arrogant and domineering, and she didn't criticize her servants. But since the Crown Prince's death, she had become like someone possessed by a demon. Sometimes she appeared to be smiling and talking, but her methods were extremely cruel.
That day, because a maidservant broke a vase in the house, Concubine Pan ordered her to be beaten to death and her body buried in the garden, saying it would be used as fertilizer for the flowers. Even now, she shudders when she thinks of Concubine Pan's expression that day.
Chen Xiang's voice trembled because he was afraid of being punished by Concubine Pan, "My Lady, I didn't."
At this time, Cao Po turned around, and her face was painted with various colors, so her appearance could not be seen clearly.
I only heard her say slowly: "I guessed."
Chenxiang breathed a sigh of relief after hearing this.
The grass lady continued, "The person you want to cast the poison on is another lady in the palace."
"How do you know?" Pan Fei stared at her warily.
Cao Po couldn't help laughing and said, "It's not uncommon for the women in this palace to be jealous of each other for the same man and fight to the death." When she laughed, the wrinkles on her face squeezed together, making her look even more mysterious and terrifying in this dark and deep room.
Concubine Pan mustered up her courage and asked, "Would Cao Po be willing to help me get rid of her?"
The old lady laughed heartily and said, "As long as you give me enough silver, I can fulfill your wish."
Concubine Pan gestured for Chenxiang to present the silver she had prepared long ago, saying, "This is just a deposit. There will be other rewards after the matter is completed."
The old lady weighed the silver in the bag and felt it was enough, so she put it in her arms and said, "When using witchcraft, if you encounter someone with a strong fate and can't kill them with one blow, the person who casts the spell will definitely suffer a backlash. Are you still willing to take the risk?"
Concubine Pan said, "If I can't get rid of her, then my life in the palace will be worse than death. I am willing to bear any consequences."
Concubine Pan emerged from the dimly lit room, suddenly feeling a sense of clarity. Liang Hongyu, the bitch, was doomed. The old lady had given her a paulownia wood doll, inscribed with Liang Hongyu's name and birth date, and pierced with silver needles. She only had to bury the doll, curse it daily, and Liang Hongyu would die without a trace.
Every night, Pan would wear white clothes and kneel in front of the Bodhisattva's shrine, muttering to herself and devoutly cursing Liang Hongyu. This went on for several days until Liang Hongyu finally fell ill and no medicine could cure her.
Inside Qingyi Palace, Zhao Gou looked at Liang Hongyu lying on the bed and said to the group of imperial doctors kneeling on the ground: "Is there really no way? What use do I have for you?"
The imperial doctors kneeling on the ground stood there trembling with fear, saying, "Your Majesty's illness came on very suddenly. Forgive our ignorance, as we have never seen such a strange disease before."
"Get out!" Zhao Gou said angrily.
Upon hearing this, the imperial doctors quickly retreated, fearing that Zhao Gou would punish them in a rage.
After the imperial physician left, Zhao Gou sat dejectedly on the stool, closed his eyes and held his forehead, feeling terrified.
Seeing this, Eunuch Rong, who was standing beside Zhao Gou, advised, "Since the imperial physicians are unable to cure the Empress's strange illness, the emperor should post a notice outside the city walls, inviting some talented people among the people to cure the Empress's illness."
Zhao Gou heard this and said, "This is a very good idea. You should start implementing it immediately."
"I will do it right away." After saying this, Eunuch Rong left the hall and ordered people to post a yellow notice to find a folk doctor.
As the midnight drum shattered the palace wall and cast a shadow in the moonlight, Asen stared at the mottled imperial edict on the vermilion palace gate. The newly formed scab on his knuckles was still oozing blood - the knife wound from robbing the Lingnan tribute ship to steal ambergris three days ago had not yet healed.
"Boss, are you really going to get involved in this mess?" Wu Xun opened the medicine chest's compartment, revealing half a golden toad. "Even the Imperial Hospital can't diagnose this illness. I'm afraid it's witchcraft."
Wu Xun was a miraculous doctor under Asen's command, known throughout Jiangnan. He was rescued by Asen while shipping cargo when a group of pirates attempted to kill him and rob him. In gratitude, Wu Xun joined the Qingcheng Gang and became their physician.
As Asen tore down the imperial edict, veins bulged on the back of his hand. The image of Liang Hongyu dancing with a sword beneath the cherry blossoms in Jingkou that year resurfaced in his mind. That night, she was dressed in a fluttering crimson robe, her eyes cold and clear. Blood-red petals fluttered down from the sky like snowflakes, staining her peach-like face red and adding a touch of allure and beauty. From that moment on, his heart no longer belonged to him; it beat only for her. Since he assumed the leadership of the Qinglong Gang, he had been surrounded by countless beautiful women, but none as stunning as she had been that day beneath the cherry blossoms.
At three quarters past the hour of Yin, the sound of a dripping copper kettle echoed from outside the palace walls. Wu Xun stood at the foot of the nine-tiered steps of Qingyi Hall, his azure Taoist robe rustling in the night breeze. He stared at the yellow edict in his hand. The words "imperial decree" written in cinnabar shone blood-red in the moonlight.
Wu Xun led Asen, who was dressed as a little Taoist priest, into the Qingyi Hall. The smell of ambergris mixed with medicine hit his face. Behind the gauze curtain on the gilded bed, he could vaguely see Liang Hongyu lying motionless on it, as if she was asleep, but her face was paler than usual. He could only stand by the bed and look at the person he had been thinking about day and night.
Wu Xun's whisk swept across Liang Hongyu's wrist. A three-inch-long golden thread suddenly emerged from beneath the brocade quilt, tangling around his fingertips. "Golden thread hanging pulse?" He glanced at the faint Sanskrit inscription on the gilded bedpost. "No wonder the imperial physician couldn't diagnose the pulse."
Zhao Gou stood up suddenly, the jade pendant jingling against the rosewood table. "Master, have you figured out what's going on?"
"The Empress has been struck by a Yunnan witchcraft." Wu Xun pulled an ancient bronze mirror from his sleeve. He passed the mirror across Liang Hongyu's pale face, revealing a small, green-scaled snake slithering across her heart. "It's called the 'Concentric Snake Curse.' It requires the victim's birth date and eight characters, then the incantation is written in blood and ink. Then, place it before a Buddha and chant sutras for forty-nine days."
Before he could finish his words, the scene in the mirror suddenly changed. A green snake suddenly raised its head and spit out its tongue, and a cinnabar talisman appeared on Liang Hongyu's neck. Wu Xun quickly drew the Big Dipper on the mirror with his fingers and shouted, "Break!" The bronze mirror hummed and trembled, and Liang Hongyu suddenly doubled over and vomited a mouthful of black blood.
"Your Majesty, please look." Wu Xun dipped his fingertips into the black blood, which spread across the rice paper, transforming into dense, tiny calligraphy. It was the text of the Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva Sutra. However, the ink had a strange, dark green tint. "The curse caster sewed the blood sutra into the lining of his white robe, and kneeling in worship every night was actually feeding the Gu with resentment."
At that moment, Pan was in the Buddhist temple, biting her fingertip to insert a newly written blood sutra into the base of a jade statue of a bodhisattva. Suddenly, the candlelight on the altar suddenly grew larger, and the smoke formed the face of Zhang Qingyuan. Just as she was about to strike with the silver scissors in her sleeve, the jade bodhisattva in the shrine cracked open with its right eye, and two streams of blood and tears streamed down its compassionate face.
"This evil Taoist has ruined my plans!" Pan tore her white hair loose and threw the entire Blood Sutra onto the candlestick. As the flames erupted, the bronze mirror in Qingyi Hall suddenly reflected a surging sea of blood, and the golden threads on Liang Hongyu's wrists snapped. Wu Xun placed the ancient mirror between Liang Hongyu's eyebrows and turned to Zhao Gou, shouting, "Please pierce my middle finger!"
Zhao Gou drew the Longquan sword from the wall, and blood dripped onto the mirror as the blade passed. The bronze mirror suddenly glowed with golden light. A sea of blood surged ten feet high in the mirror, and Pan's frantic figure could be vaguely seen in the flames. Wu Xun bit his tongue and spat out a mouthful of blood. The ancient mirror cracked with a spiderweb-like crack. Liang Hongyu suddenly coughed violently, spitting out a ball of stained blood coated with green scales. After vomiting blood, she regained consciousness instantly.
Zhao Gou immediately went to support her and asked with concern, "My beloved, are you okay?"
Liang Hongyu asked suspiciously, "Sir, what's wrong with me?"
Before Zhao Gou could reply, Asen stepped forward and said, "Your Majesty, you were cursed by Concubine Pan with witchcraft, and you fell into a coma. It was this Taoist Wu who saved you."
Liang Hongyu recognized the handsome young man in the green Taoist robe and called out softly, "Asen, is that you?"
When Zhao Gou arrived at Concubine Pan's palace, Concubine Pan was dressed in white and kneeling on a cushion with her hands clasped together, devoutly cursing Liang Hongyu in front of the Bodhisattva's shrine.
Zhao Gou drew his guard's long sword and chopped down the Buddhist shrine on the table. He angrily said, "Princess Pan, you actually did such a despicable thing and harmed others in the palace."
When Princess Pan saw that the truth was revealed, she collapsed to the ground.
A eunuch found a paulownia wood doll covered with silver needles in the garden outside the palace. Liang Hongyu's birth date was written on it. He gave the doll to Zhao Gou.
Zhao Gou was furious after seeing this and ordered his accompanying guards, "Banish Concubine Pan to the cold palace."
After receiving the order, the two guards pulled up Concubine Pan, who was still stunned on the ground, from the left and right, and walked towards the cold palace.
The glass lanterns cast a cold, faint blue light on the mottled palace walls. Concubine Pan walked barefoot over the mildew growing in the cracks between the blue bricks. Her embroidered shoes, adorned with oriental pearls yesterday, had long since been stripped away by the eunuchs. Now she wore only her plain white undergarment. Every step felt like treading on a cold blade. The icy autumn rain seeped between her toes, and ten dark red plum blossoms blossomed on the blue brick ground.
Suddenly, she stumbled over a threshold, and the jade bracelet on her wrist shattered. This bracelet had been given to her by the emperor on his birthday three years ago. The emperor had personally placed it on her fair wrist, saying that the emerald hue complemented her complexion perfectly. The shattered jade scattered across the floor, reflecting the waning moonlight from the eaves, looked as if someone had frozen a pool of spring water into shards. She had imagined the cold palace might be very cold, but she hadn't imagined it would be this cold.
Pan Fei huddled in the cold corner of the bed, suddenly remembering the ghostly words of the grass lady: "When using witchcraft, if you encounter someone with a strong fate, if you can't kill them with one blow, the person who casts the spell will definitely suffer backlash."
Could that unforgiving individual be Liang Hongyu? Her journey from courtesan to imperial concubine must have been fraught with hardships and dangers. How could she possibly rival a woman who had emerged from hell? It was laughable that her self-righteousness had led her to such a tragic end. Perhaps her fate was sealed from the moment she lost her son. Regardless, life was meaningless to her; death was perhaps the only escape.
Concubine Pan tiptoed and tossed the white silk over the beam, determined to die, without a trace of fear. Seeing her son in the afterlife was far preferable to enduring such torture and humiliation in the cold palace. She recalled the spring equinox of the year she had received the emperor's favor, when twelve palace maids knelt, clutching black ink and gold-flowered paper, to paint her eyebrows like distant mountains. Now, half a dried peony petal was stuck in the intertwined grapevine pattern on the edge of the bronze mirror—clearly the Luoyang Wei Zi that His Majesty had personally pinned to her temples.
All the prosperity seems like a dream, and it’s time to wake up now.
With a "clang", the round stool kicked over by his feet fell on the blue brick floor. In the middle of the night, the sound of wood breaking could be heard from the beams, like the wailing of ghosts in hell.
At dawn, the patrolling eunuch spotted a white figure hanging under the beam, her skirt, covered with frost, swaying gently in the breeze.
When Liang Hongyu heard the news that Concubine Pan committed suicide in the cold palace, her expression was indifferent and there was no ripple in her heart. Perhaps most of the women in the deep palace had such a tragic ending.
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