Xiang Yun sat alone on the elevated stage, bathed in the glow of soul lanterns, a seven-string qin resting across her lap. Her fingers moved with graceful precision, coaxing music from the instrument that shimmered like moonlight rippling over still water.
She looked as breathtaking as ever, but none of the ghostly patrons below spared a glance at her face.
Their eyes were closed, expressions dazed. Every ghost in the room was lost in the melody, hearts drifting along its rise and fall. The haunting notes wrapped around them like mist, piercing deeper than words ever could.
By the time the final note faded into silence and the last chord stopped reverberating through the beams, Xiang Yun was already gone.
She'd left as quietly as she'd come.
When Song Miaozhu stepped into the warm chamber beside the music tower, she found Xiang Yun seated comfortably by a lacquered table, the qin now resting in its case. Steam curled from a porcelain teacup near her hand.
"Well?" Xiang Yun asked, tilting her head with a hint of mischief. "How did my performance compare to the rowdy bump-and-grind across the street?"
Song Miaozhu didn't answer immediately. She was still half-floating in that final echo, the way the last note had clung to the rafters, unwilling to leave.
"Only after hearing you play," she said at last, "did I understand what the ancients meant by 'a melody that lingers in the rafters for three days.' Turns out, that wasn't just poetic exaggeration."
Xiang Yun's eyes crinkled with delight as she laughed behind her sleeve. "The melody lingers for three days? Now that's high praise! But come now—I'm no Han E."
"Han E?" Song Miaozhu blinked. "You mean the Han E?"
"If you'd arrived a decade or two earlier, I could've taken you to Echoing Melody Pavilion myself." Xiang Yun sighed with theatrical wistfulness. "Back when Han E still performed there. Her voice… that was true lingering resonance. Even ghosts who'd gone deaf in life could hear her sing."
"Han E once ran a business here in Fengdu?" Song Miaozhu asked in surprise.
If she hadn't, a ghost from the Warring States period wouldn't have lasted in Fengdu until now.
"That's right. Back then, she lamented being born before the era of spiritual energy. She finally got her wish this time. Of course, now that she's reincarnated, she's left her past behind. Whether she'll sing like she once did? Who knows. As for me—I'm not ready to part with my skills just yet.
"Not everyone's lucky enough to be born with talent or find the right opportunities. I lived through that age, toiled my whole life, and was nothing more than an ordinary woman. Might as well enjoy a carefree afterlife in the underworld."
"Sister Xiang Yun, were you… from before the Han Dynasty?" Song Miaozhu asked, her curiosity piqued. She'd never found anyone in the living world who truly understood cultivation or spiritual energy, let alone someone who'd lived through the age itself.
"I am," Xiang Yun replied with an elegant nod, as if discussing the weather.
"Then, Sister Xiang Yun, do you know what spiritual energy was like during the resurgence? How can one absorb and harness it?"
"Though I lived in the last age of cultivation, I had no talent for it. All I know is that cultivators sought the Dao, exploring the fundamental truths of heaven and earth to channel spiritual energy and refine themselves. The living world's tales of mountain spirits, demons, and exorcisms all draw inspiration from that time.
Back then, spiritual energy favored nature—the closer one was to the natural world, the easier it was to attract its power and undergo transformation. Now, it's a new era, and new rules will emerge. But I suspect one thing remains unchanged: spiritual energy is still drawn to what it loves. I once dreamed of immortality too and collected some cultivation manuals. They weren't valuable then, let alone now. Take them."
Xiang Yun produced a dark wooden chest filled to the brim with books.
Song Miaozhu accepted them like treasures. "Thank you, Sister Xiang Yun! If I ever master my ancestors' craft, I'll give you a ten percent discount on all paper craft!"
Her ancestor had pioneered the art of paper crafting but hadn't left much in the way of cultivation knowledge—just the basics of the paper craft method. Only through generations of refinements did it become what was now known as the Secret Art of Paper Crafting.
As Xiang Yun said, these old texts might be outdated, but even a little insight could inspire new research into today's cultivation methods.
"I'll hold you to that," Xiang Yun said with a teasing smile. "If you ever change your mind and get stingy on me, I won't let it slide!"
"Don't worry, I won't back out," Song Miaozhu promised.
A mere ten percent discount wouldn't hurt her profits. She'd never operate on such razor-thin margins anyway—she could easily afford it.
After packing the ancient texts into a spare chest, Song Miaozhu, now too eager to stay longer, bid Xiang Yun farewell. Remembering Xiang Yun's lingering resentment toward the strip club, she added:
"The audiences of Fragrant Cloud Pavilion and that bar aren't even comparable. Even if some ghosts stray there out of novelty, in the long run, your music will win out. Even in Fengdu, where novelty is scarce, gimmicks without substance don't last. And honestly, that bar's patrons probably lack enough virtue to stay here long anyway."
"You're right. Many regulars who went there eventually returned to the qin," Xiang Yun admitted. "I'm not worried about losing business anymore—I just hate how their presence lowers the prestige of my pavilion. No matter how many times I see it, I can't accept such vulgarity. A place like that belongs in Cuiliu Alley! Though, with those looks, they'd barely rank there. The only thing they have going for them is the novelty of their dance."
Song Miaozhu: "???"
"Wait—did that mean Cuiliu Alley was full of stunning beauties?"
Now she was curious.
"Don't get any ideas," Xiang Yun said, narrowing her eyes. "Cuiliu Alley ghosts are respectable! They just earn their keep with their looks. If you're that eager to admire someone, go find a handsome living man! Don't waste time getting tangled in ghostly affairs."
Song Miaozhu: "..."
What an outrageous misunderstanding! Who was the one overthinking here?
She just liked looking at pretty faces. That was all. Admiration didn't mean interest. And she certainly wouldn't spend money on it.
No matter how charming the view, nothing was more prettier than money!
To prove her innocence, Song Miaozhu left Fragrant Cloud Pavilion without so much as a glance at the bar's dancers. After floating a few dozen meters, she suddenly vanished. She'd been an idiot, walking like a normal ghost when she could've teleported back to the shop anytime with her owner's token!
Back in the store, just as she opened the chest of books, a message arrived on the GhostLink app:
[Qin Master Xiang Yun]: The bar owner followed you. I doubt we can hide it much longer. If they want to buy that sound system—go ahead and sell it. I'm not afraid of them anymore.
[Proprietor Song of Anshou Hall]: I'm not planning to sell large sound systems anymore. Too much hassle to install. Of course, your pavilion is the exception. But I've got a shipment of loudspeakers arriving soon. The underworld might not be so quiet for much longer.
[Qin Master Xiang Yun]: Nicely done! Oh, and if you get the chance, drop by Tiandi Bank. I remember your ancestors used to love that place!
[Proprietor Song of Anshou Hall]: Got it.
Song Miaozhu smiled and closed the GhostLink.
She hadn't considered the hassle of installation before. After learning how to set up speakers and generators, she'd regretted selling them. If not for Xiang Yun's gift and their shared history, she wouldn't have even made an exception for her.
She loved money, but she also knew when to compromise.
Goods from the living world were a temporary venture—paper craft were her real path to profit!