Li Qingquan, still living at the marquis’s residence, was nearby along with Ah Da, Wang Yong, and Wu Shunzi. All four surrounded Xing Muzheng, worried that the commander’s desperate slamming would cause serious injury. They discussed restraining him together, but Dingxi Marquis suddenly swung his arms, knocking one man aside and kicking another. Only Wu Shunzi managed to cling clumsily to the Marquis’s waist. Xing Muzheng grabbed his arm, twisted, and flung him forcefully to the ground.
“My god!” Wang Yong cried out in terror. He feared that the Marquis had regained his martial strength—if he went berserk and used it, how could they possibly stop him?
Dingxi Marquis once again rammed his tall body into the door. With each impact, it seemed as if he were throwing his life into it. The once-sturdy door and thick bolts shuddered violently under the strain.
“What do we do? Is the commander trying to get out?” Ah Da scrambled up, rubbing his chest. The Marquis had struck with terrifying force—if Ah Da hadn’t dodged in time, he might have fainted.
“If he’s like this inside, won’t it be even more dangerous if he gets out?”
“But what can we do? If we don’t let him out, will he just keep…?”
Before they could come to a decision, a loud crash echoed—the double doors collapsed with a bang. Dingxi Marquis lay sprawled on one of the fallen panels, but quickly scrambled up, cradling his right arm and bolting outside.
“Commander!” The four of them gave chase.
Under the moonlight, the Marquis sprinted like a madman, long hair veiling his face, loose robes trailing behind, bare feet flying over the ground—he looked like a ghost roaming the mortal realm. Along the way, night maids and old servants shrieked at the sight. Soldiers on patrol rushed over, drawing their swords—only to be shouted back by Li Qingquan: “Put those d*mn blades away—stand down!”
Xing Muzheng didn’t know why the ghost-thing had suddenly gone into such a frenzy, but he recognized the direction he was running—the western side of the estate. Jiaoniang’s courtyard was there.
Impossible. The ghost-thing was neither clever nor aware—how could he possibly know the way to Jiaoniang’s courtyard? And yet, he was indeed running straight toward it. He even turned into a side path, passed through a half-moon gate, and arrived directly at her courtyard door.
Wu Jiang, on night duty, had been yawning when he suddenly saw the approaching figure. He stared in disbelief. “C-Commander?”
Dingxi Marquis ignored him and strode up the steps, pushing the courtyard gate open with one hand. Wu Jiang was too stunned to react—by the time he came to his senses, the Marquis had already rushed into the courtyard.
“Commander!”
“Commander!”
Wu Jiang and the others—Ah Da and the rest—shouted in alarm, all trying to push into the courtyard. The large men got stuck in the narrow entryway.
“What’s going on? Why did the commander come here?”
“How should we know? He ran here on his own!”
Dingxi Marquis charged into the main room and immediately heard a child crying. Xing Muzheng’s heart clenched—it was Chou’er’s voice.
Qingya came out, eyes red, holding a basin of warm water. When she looked up and saw the wild-eyed Xing Muzheng, she let out a scream and dropped the basin. The Marquis bared his teeth and lunged toward her. Qingya covered her head in terror. “Don’t come any closer!”
He stormed past her like a whirlwind. Qingya’s heart leapt to her throat, but the violence she expected never came. She cautiously opened her eyes—only to see the curtain swinging wildly and a thunderous crash follow.
Inside the room, Xing Pingchun was kneeling by Qian Jiaoniang’s bedside, crying. Hearing the noise, he turned abruptly to see his crazed father storm in and crash through the screen. He let out a wail and threw himself into Xing Muzheng’s arms.
“Daddy, Daddy! Where have you been? Mama—Mama’s been sleeping for three days and hasn’t woken up! Sister Qingya won’t tell me what’s wrong with her! Daddy, Mama won’t wake up!”
“Chou’er, get away from him!” Qingya was terrified. If the Marquis struck Chou’er like he had Jiaoniang, how would she explain that? Clenching her teeth, she rushed forward, only for Ah Da to grab her from behind.
“Miss Qingya, don’t go in. We’ll handle this!”
“Then hurry! Chou’er’s hugging the Marquis!”
Li Qingquan’s soul nearly flew out of his body. The young master was the commander’s only son—nothing could happen to him!
He rushed in with all his might, barely catching his footing before being stunned by the deafening sound of weeping. He stood frozen. Ah Da and the others who followed were also dumbfounded. They saw Dingxi Marquis sitting on the floor, arms limp at his sides, bawling like a child. Beside him, Xing Pingchun wept even harder, his heart breaking.
The sight of father and son weeping together—no one had ever witnessed such a scene. Li Qingquan and the others were completely at a loss.
On the bed, Qian Jiaoniang lay still, her head wrapped in gauze. Eyes closed, she slept quietly. She had been floating in a haze for days, her limbs feeling shackled, every step a burden as if she were weighed down by a thousand pounds.
She was exhausted—she needed rest. But someone kept crying by her ear, noisy and incessant, preventing her from truly sleeping. Who was disturbing her peace? Qian Jiaoniang wanted to drive them away, but she couldn’t lift a finger, couldn’t speak, couldn’t open her eyes. The louder the crying became, the more her head throbbed.
Qian Jiaoniang’s eyelashes, as delicate as thin wings, trembled lightly. At last, she opened her eyes. Her dry lips parted slightly—she wanted to ask for quiet—but in her peripheral vision, she saw one large and one small figure sitting on the ground. She turned her head slightly, and a sharp pain twisted through her temple like a pulled tendon. She let out a faint hiss, then saw clearly the two messy, tear-streaked faces crying on the floor. She stared at the two faces—so similar in their dumb expressions, one big and one small—for a long time, then actually smiled.
“Idiots… what are you crying for?”
Xing Pingchun leapt up and rushed to her bedside, clumsily wiping his tears with his sleeve. “Mother, Mother!”
The moment Xing Pingchun’s figure blocked the view, Xing Muzheng caught sight of Jiaoniang’s curved brows and eyes—it was like clouds parting to reveal the sun. The ghost-thing laughed and cried, stomping his bare feet on the ground.
“Madam!”
“Jiaoniang!”
Li Qingquan and the others at the doorway, along with Qingya, were all overjoyed. Qingya no longer cared about anything else and rushed to the bed, grabbing Qian Jiaoniang’s hand and sobbing uncontrollably. “You’ve finally woken up—you’ve been asleep for three whole days!”
Qian Jiaoniang’s clear eyes showed a hint of surprise. She had been asleep for three days? Why… ah, yes, she seemed to have been flung away by Xing Muzheng’s arm.
Wu Shunzi ran off to fetch Doctor Bai, who was temporarily residing in the courtyard. After taking her pulse, Doctor Bai smiled. “Madam has survived the worst. But she must remain bedridden and rest quietly for the next few days—no walking. I’ll adjust the prescription slightly; continue decocting the medicine according to this new formula.”
Ah Da and Wang Yong exchanged glances and couldn’t help but high-five. They had been in this courtyard the longest and knew best that the one person who truly understood the commander was Madam. Now that Madam was awake, surely the commander wouldn’t go into wild rages like he had in his own courtyard.
Li Qingquan and Ah Da carefully escorted Dingxi Marquis back to the west wing. This time, the Marquis let them support him. He obediently let them wipe his hands and feet, change his clothes, and even let out silly giggles now and then.
“At last, the commander is smiling,” Ah Da said with a grin. “He hadn’t smiled once these past days in his own courtyard!”
“Could it be he’s happy because he knows Madam woke up?” Wang Yong added. “Isn’t it strange? The commander ran to Madam’s place all on his own—he found the way!”
Xing Muzheng was also reflecting on the ghost-thing’s behavior. It was true—the creature had gone directly to Jiaoniang’s courtyard, something that had never happened before. Could it be that his yearning to see her had somehow driven the ghost-thing? Of all the thoughts and emotions running through him, why had only that one been followed?
He decided to test it again—he ordered the ghost-thing to walk to the east wing. The ghost-thing didn’t budge. Perhaps it was because his longing had been especially intense at that moment?
Xing Muzheng fell into deep thought again. He had grasped a thread of hope. No matter what, tonight the ghost-thing had acted according to his will. Though he didn’t yet understand the trigger, if he could uncover the flaw in the possession, perhaps he could reclaim control of his body. And—Jiaoniang was no longer in danger. That was good.
