Chapter 65: The Spirit of Flora

Bai Xian reached out her slender, jade-like fingers and took a single copper coin from the wooden box, slipping it into her sleeve. Her smile was as radiant as a painting.

“Mere minor spirits can be dispelled without the slightest effort. There’s no need for so much silver; a copper coin will suffice.”

It had been nearly half a month since she entered this otherworld.

Following the guidance of the Azure Book, she had left Jinjiang County and arrived at Changlong Prefecture. Yet, as soon as she crossed into Changlong’s borders, the book’s guidance grew muddled—pointing east one moment, west the next. Bai Xian could only follow its shifting directions, never quite catching up to her target.

In this time, she had also encountered many demons and monsters, all of whom she dispatched effortlessly. If she saved the wealthy or powerful, she would demand a handsome sum in return. But if it was an ordinary villager, not only did she refuse payment, sometimes she would even slip a few coins into their possession.

Aunt Wang, upon hearing this, knew at once that Bai Xian pitied the poor. Overcome with emotion, she fell to her knees, weeping in gratitude.

...

Though his father died young, Qian Jian never wallowed in self-pity. Instead, he worked hard at his studies, passing the county and prefectural examinations while still in his teens, becoming the only scholar in the village. He was only waiting for the following year’s imperial exam to earn the title of licentiate and perhaps a local magistracy, bringing honor to his ancestors and comfort to his late father’s spirit.

But then, that day arrived.

Qian Jian and several friends from the academy went on a spring outing. Passing by a grove of plantains, he felt a sudden urge to relieve himself and stepped into the woods. When he emerged, he found his friends had moved on, but a young woman in a green dress awaited him at the edge of the grove.

She was enchantingly beautiful, her skin fair, her features delicate and alluring. Her name was Mei Niang.

At first sight, Mei Niang was seared into Qian Jian’s heart.

From that day forth, Qian Jian lost all appetite for food, drink, or study. He spent his days wandering hills and streams with Mei Niang, and at night, they met in secret, sharing stolen moments of intimacy.

Once he tasted such pleasures, he could not stop.

After half a month, the once-handsome young scholar had grown so gaunt he was scarcely recognizable.

...

The sun sank behind the western hills.

“Tonight, at the hour of the Boar, I’ll open my window for you,” Qian Jian promised Mei Niang as they parted, his steps light as he returned to his small courtyard.

He pushed open his door.

Unusually, a lamp burned inside, its faint flame flickering gently. Seated on a chair in the main room was not his elderly mother, but the delicate silhouette of a young woman.

What guest could be in his home at this hour?

Qian Jian wondered, but his feet carried him forward of their own accord.

At that moment, the young woman seemed to hear his approach and turned abruptly.

In the lamplight, her skin gleamed like flawless jade, lips red as cherry, brows arched like willows, eyes deep and luminous—phoenix eyes that seemed to speak, though she sat perfectly still.

A beauty fit for the heavens, seldom seen in the world of men.

“This humble student, Qian Jian, pays his respects.”

In that instant, he forgot all about Mei Niang, with whom he’d spent the past fortnight in passion; his mind and heart were filled only with the gray-robed maiden by candlelight.

Compared to her, Mei Niang’s charms suddenly seemed vulgar and contrived.

Just then, Aunt Wang hurried out from the kitchen, forcing a smile.

“Jian’er, this is Miss Bai Xian—a distant relative of ours. She’ll be staying the night. Don’t neglect her.”

Qian Jian’s eyes brightened, his composure returning somewhat. “So you’re Sister Bai.”

Bai Xian cast a sidelong glance at this hopeless romantic, who fell for every woman he met, and didn’t even bother with a greeting. She closed her eyes and settled into quiet repose, as if she hadn’t heard him at all.

Left awkward and rebuffed, Qian Jian was saved by his mother, who gently coaxed him off to bathe.

“Please forgive him, Miss Bai,” Aunt Wang apologized, bowing deeply when she returned to the hall.

Bai Xian waved off her apologies, unwilling to argue further.

Meanwhile, after his bath, Qian Jian lay flat on his bed, staring into space—the image of Miss Bai in candlelight haunting his mind, so much so that he forgot the time he had agreed to meet Mei Niang.

Until—

Knock, knock, knock.

Three soft taps sounded at the window. Qian Jian started, realizing he was late for their rendezvous. He opened the window, letting the green-clad Mei Niang slip inside.

“Dearest Qian,” she murmured, moving close.

On any other night, Qian Jian would have responded eagerly. But tonight, for some reason, he stepped back.

“Mei Niang, is it really right for us to meet like this every night? We’re not married—what we’re doing is forbidden…”

Mei Niang was stunned, unable to believe what she was hearing.

Tonight, his failure to open the window at the appointed time had already unnerved her, and now his words were nothing like the passion of the last two weeks.

“Why are you so cold to me tonight?” she whispered, secretly intensifying her bewitching aura, her body swaying more seductively. “If you say such things, then what were these past weeks between us?”

Qian Jian, feeling guilty, blushed fiercely, but the thought of Bai Xian’s voice steeled his resolve.

“This can’t go on, Mei Niang. How about this: when I pass the exams and start my household, I’ll bring you into the Qian family. What do you think?”

In his heart, if he were to take a wife, it would be someone like the celestial Miss Bai Xian. As for Mei Niang… perhaps she could be a concubine.

Upon hearing this, Mei Niang’s face twisted with disbelief.

“So that’s why you’ve suddenly grown cold—you’ve found someone new and forgotten the old! I’d like to see which girl has captured your fancy!”

“Don’t harm Miss Bai!” Qian Jian cried, alarmed, and moved to block the door.

But how could he stop a being that was not even human?

With a wave of her hand, Mei Niang sent Qian Jian crashing into the wall.

“Miss Bai, run!” he shouted with all his strength, unable to move.

“Run? There’s nowhere to run!”

In a flash, the furious Mei Niang transformed into a swirl of green mist, floating toward the main hall.

She had barely crossed the threshold when someone appeared before her.

Before she could react, a hand seized her by the throat.

The hand was soft and fair as white jade, yet possessed astonishing strength. Power radiated from that palm, burning with such terrifying force that Mei Niang shrieked in pain.

Alarmed by the commotion, Aunt Wang hurried out, lighting the oil lamp to see Bai Xian holding a woman in a green dress. Under the searing force of Bai Xian’s magic, the woman’s form flickered and shimmered, revealing the shadowy outline of a plantain leaf.

“So that’s what you are—a mere tree spirit,” Bai Xian remarked.

Spirits and demons were not the same. The latter were animals, but spirits were mostly plants, and for one to gain sentience was a hundred or thousand times more difficult. Most plant spirits were pure-minded and rarely harmed humans.

“Spare me! Please, spare me!” Mei Niang finally begged for mercy, enduring the agony that burned at her neck.

“Spirits are few and far between and most dwell deep in the mountains. Why did you come among men to do harm?”

“I meant no harm,” Mei Niang cried. “I only wished to spend my life with Qian.”

“If you truly wished to be together, why did you drain his life essence every day?” Bai Xian replied coldly. “Had I not appeared, in a few more days he would have been nothing but a shriveled corpse.”