Two pyres were swiftly built, with a platform erected between them, supporting a cross-shaped wooden frame. Wuji and QingWu were both bound to the frames, the wood beneath them soaked in oil. Flames roared to life, crackling ferociously as the fire spread. Wuji muttered incantations under his breath, his fingers moving rapidly in intricate gestures.
As the fire ignited fully, he opened his eyes and cast a defiant gaze over the assembled crowd. His eyes lingered briefly on Xiao Chenyuan's face before finally settling on QingWu. Mere ghost. Mere mortals. Did they truly believe that a simple fire could claim his life? So what if the Living Curse Ritual had failed? Today, he would turn their plan against them and use this inferno to burn Dread King's Manor to the ground! Just like the late Crown Prince, the Dread King would also meet his end in flames.
"Boundless Celestial Master, grant me fire from Zhu Rong!" Wuji chanted loudly, and in the next instant, the flames on QingWu's side surged upward in a violent wave. The fiery tongues lashed out, curling dangerously toward her gown, threatening to engulf her.
Suddenly, a loud crackle resounded as sparks exploded into the air. But instead of spreading wildly, the flames seemed to gather around QingWu, forming a vortex that spiraled outward. The fire coiled like a sentient serpent, slithering through the courtyard as though it had a will of its own. Then, without warning, it surged toward Xiao Chenyuan.
"Protect the King!" the guards shouted, dousing the advancing flames with buckets of water to block its path.
Xiao Chenyuan remained composed, though his eyes darkened with a fury that sent chills through the onlookers. His gaze was fixed on the predatory fire, and his thoughts turned to the infernal blaze that had mysteriously erupted in the Eastern Palace ten years ago. That fire, too, had hunted its victims with relentless malice, consuming everyone in the palace until nothing but ash remained.
Wuji's smug grin grew wider as he shouted, "Your Majesty, beware! This vile ghost possesses extraordinary power—she intends to drag everyone here to their graves!"
QingWu stared at Wuji with an unflinching gaze, fully aware of his underhanded schemes. "You certainly have a penchant for playing with fire."
The Pen of Judgment bellowed in her mind, That damned Daoist plans to burn everyone alive and pin the blame on you!
QingWu smirked faintly. She was no stranger to fire. In the Underworld, she too was a master of the flames.
"The flames of Zhu Rong are righteous and impartial, meant to vanquish evil and punish wrongdoers." Her voice turned cold and commanding, echoing with an unearthly authority. "By the will of the Fire God, those who abuse his power shall face divine wrath and be consumed by their own misdeeds!"
Wuji's smug expression froze. The fiery serpents slithering around the courtyard halted abruptly. In a flash, the flames that had barely touched QingWu's pyre converged onto Wuji's. The blaze erupted violently, spiraling into the sky and enveloping his entire stake in a roaring inferno.
"Ahhh! What is happening?!" Wuji screamed, abandoning his composure as he frantically gestured with trembling hands. "Boundless Celestial Master, extinguish the fire! Please—"
Who dares misuse the name of the Fire God for wickedness? A thunderous voice reverberated through everyone's mind, carrying an overwhelming pressure that left them paralyzed.
The flames danced and flickered, coalescing into the towering figure of a fire deity. Gasps of disbelief filled the courtyard. Wuji's knees buckled as he trembled uncontrollably. "F-Fire God? Impossible! My skills—my master—none of us could ever summon you!"
Impudent Daoist! To invoke my name for evil deeds—unforgivable! Your life ends here!
"No! Forgive me, Fire God! I was wrong! Please spare me—AHHH!"
The flames surged mercilessly, engulfing Wuji entirely. His agonized screams pierced the air, but they soon faded into silence. Within moments, he was reduced to nothing more than charred remains.
The remaining embers floated weightlessly, drifting toward QingWu. They circled her once before landing on the ropes binding her hands, burning them away effortlessly. She stretched her wrists, rolled her neck, and said coldly, "Playing with fire will only get you burned."
Lifting her gaze, she met Xiao Chenyuan's penetrating stare. In his eyes, she saw something—an inferno blazing intensely, radiating an aura of danger that could swallow anyone whole. QingWu's lips curved into a sly smile. "Your Majesty, the demon has faced divine retribution. Does this prove my innocence?"
"It does," Xiao Chenyuan replied, his voice low and steady. His fingers tightened around the prayer beads in his hand. Ten years ago, the Eastern Palace was consumed by a mysterious fire. Now, for the first time, a thread of clarity emerged.
He rose abruptly and strode toward QingWu, his eyes fixed on her as though she held the key to unraveling a decade-old mystery. QingWu tilted her head slightly, and as he approached, she suddenly called out, "Xiao Chenyuan, catch me."
For a split second, Xiao Chenyuan froze. Memories surged unbidden—a young girl standing high above, saying the exact same words before leaping fearlessly into his arms. Time blurred, the past and the present overlapped.
Without thinking, he caught QingWu, his large hands closing securely around her. His grip tightened instinctively as his dark eyes locked onto hers, filled with a complex mix of emotions that neither could fully decipher.
"Who are you?"
"Your Queen," QingWu replied with a playful blink.
Xiao Chenyuan's expression turned icy. He stepped back, his hand releasing her as the distance between them grew. His sharp, penetrating gaze locked onto her, shadows flickering within his eyes. At that moment, Yun Houxing was brought forward by two royal guards, trembling as the blades at his neck glinted coldly.
"Your Majesty, I'm innocent! I had no idea—" Yun Houxing stammered, his words tripping over each other.
The dignified Minister of Revenue, a second-ranked official, was reduced to a shivering wreck, the sharp edge of a blade forcing his head upright. Xiao Chenyuan stepped forward, accepting the sword handed to him by a guard. He raised the blade slowly, its tip pressing against Yun Houxing's chest before tilting up to lift his chin.
"First, you wed a corpse into my manor. Then, you brought a Daoist to commit atrocities here," Xiao Chenyuan said, his voice laced with frost. "Minister Yun, plotting against the royal family is treason—punishable by death."
Yun Houxing fell to his knees, his face pale as ash. "Misunderstanding! It's all a misunderstanding! I was deceived—I didn't know he was a Daoist. I came out of concern for Your Majesty's safety."
"Concern?" QingWu's silvery laughter cut through the air, freezing Yun Houxing in place. Her eyes glinted coldly as she stepped closer. "Father, were you here to pay your respects or to collect the corpse?"
Her words made Yun Houxing's face twist in terror. QingWu's gaze bore into him, unrelenting. "Let me jog your memory, Father. Which daughter was it that you married off to the Dread King's Manor?"
"It was… Yu Jiao…" Yun Houxing stammered. "It was her—she died, not you. QingWu, forgive your father. I was deceived—I didn't know—"
"Father and daughter, bound by blood. I care about you deeply…" QingWu sneered, the sarcasm in her tone unmistakable. The pathetic sight of him only deepened her contempt. If she truly were Yun QingWu, she'd have already torn him to shreds.
"Indeed, who can hold grudges between family?" QingWu said softly, a faint smile playing on her lips. "Besides, you're now the Dread King's father-in-law. His Majesty is benevolent; surely he wouldn't truly take your life. Isn't that right, Your Majesty?" She glanced at Xiao Chenyuan, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Xiao Chenyuan studied her intently. He doubted that this so-called "Yun QingWu" wouldn't let Yun Houxing off so easily. "For the sake of the Queen, I can forgive Minister Yun this once," he said coolly.
Before Yun Houxing could sigh in relief, QingWu added with a sweet tone, "Thank you, Your Majesty, on behalf of my father. But since this is a joyous newlywed occasion, corpses and coffins in the manor are hardly auspicious. Considering Yu Jiao died before her marriage, she isn't truly part of the royal family."
A sudden gust of wind swept through the courtyard. A shadow emerged from beneath QingWu's feet—it was the vengeful spirit of Yun QingWu. Her hollow eyes glared venomously at Yun Houxing before she drifted silently into the coffin.
Xiao Chenyuan's prayer beads grew hot in his hand, prompting him to glance at QingWu with narrowed eyes. Yet, he said nothing.
QingWu's smile deepened, laced with mockery. "As for the corpse and coffin, Father, however they were carried out from the Yun residence, they should be returned the same way. Oh, and one more thing—" She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper, "Yu Jiao's grievance is heavy. Make sure you prepare a proper funeral, Father. After all, spirits of wrongful deaths always return for vengeance on the seventh night."
Yun Houxing's face turned deathly pale, his lips quivering as QingWu stepped back, her laughter carrying a chilling finality.