Wax Goose Curse

"Don't look up!"

Zhu Yuanzhang spat out a charred fragment of his internal organs.

He felt a wave of comfort wash over his entire body.

He then casually pressed down on the head of that old rascal, Fu Qi.

He warned, "No matter which one it is, looking at them means death!"

"!"

Hearing this, Fu Qi immediately tucked his head in like a quail.

He asked, "With such a great omen of doom blocking our path, how does the Zen Master think we should proceed?"

"Wait!"

Zhu Yuanzhang dragged Fu Qi along with their heads bowed, heading toward a door on the side of the path.

Then, he delivered a fierce kick to the door!

Thud!

The door swung open in response!

The Embroiderer, who was busy sewing half of a young girl's facial skin onto her own face in front of a mirror, turned around at the sound.

Catching the scent of a living person, she was just about to let out a terrifying, ghostly laugh.

Instead, she was met head-on by a pair of iron fists as large as sand pots, reeking of the briny sea.

"BANG!!!"

The brains of the Embroiderer, draped in human skin, were instantly shattered into pieces.

Following this, a raging true fire swept over, burning the still-writhing blood clots and human skin on the floor into ash.

"Shut the doors and windows! Don't look at anything! Don't listen to anything!"

"Wait for those two monsters to decide the victor!"

Fu Qi glanced at the door that had been shattered to pieces by Zhu Yuanzhang's single kick.

The corners of his mouth twitched.

He really wanted to ask how he was supposed to close the door.

However, looking at Zhu Yuanzhang—whose hair was graying, whose body was half-covered in ugly black scales, and whose skin had turned the sickly, grayish-blue of a corpse—Fu Qi wisely kept his questions to himself.

After sealing the door with the room's vanity table and a few wooden planks, Fu Qi blew out the candle.

Instantly, the surroundings plunged into deep darkness.

The atmosphere became awkward for a moment.

Both men harbored their own secret agendas, each wary of the other.

It was only the circumstances that had forced them into a temporary alliance.

It was Zhu Yuanzhang who first broke the silence.

"How did you recognize that it was Consort Ding?"

"That matter is quite simple... Does the Zen Master know of the Wax Goose Curse?"

In the darkness, Fu Qi could not see Zhu Yuanzhang.

Feeling slightly more relaxed, he replied.

"What is that?" Zhu Yuanzhang asked.

The art of the curse originated from the folk beliefs of Jingchu.

It often used animals like pigs or dogs as sacrifices.

The objects of its rituals included deities from the polytheistic pantheon, such as the Imperial Invoker, Taiyi, and Houtu.

It was said to allow communication with ghosts and gods to cast curses upon one's enemies.

At this moment, in a corner where Fu Qi could not see, half of Zhu Yuanzhang's body had completely transformed into the form of a Deep One.

The Deep One's dark vision allowed him to see the scene inside the room as clearly as if it were daylight.

"Minghe's lifespan originally had less than twenty years remaining."

"But now... if no accidents occur, I fear that even for two hundred years, Minghe will be able to live on."

"Although the internal organs have regrown, they are completely different from what they once were."

Feeling the surging vitality within his body, Zhu Yuanzhang thought to himself.

"When Consort Ding was laid to rest, a sorcerer submitted a memorial to the Supreme Ruler, claiming the Crown Prince was using the funeral to conduct the Wax Goose Curse."

"Consequently, the Supreme Ruler ordered the palace overseer Bao Miaozhi to open the coffin and inspect the corpse, and sure enough, they found the wax goose and other cursed items inside."

"The Supreme Ruler was incensed and ordered a thorough investigation. Although the Chancellor Xu Mianzhi pleaded for mercy, the Supreme Ruler ultimately did not strip Xiao Tong of his position as Crown Prince."

"However, in the end, Noble Consort Ding was buried hastily, with rites befitting a commoner."

"Crown Prince Zhaoming fell into a deep depression over this affair and soon died of a broken heart."

"When Bao Miaozhi opened the coffin to inspect the body back then, I was at the scene, so naturally, I could recognize..."

"Consort Ding's... appearance..."

Fu Qi spoke slowly, his tone strained as if he were recalling the horrific scene of the coffin opening once more.

The entire "Wax Goose Curse" incident sounded like nothing more than a typical, unremarkable case of witchcraft within the palace walls.

Yet, Zhu Yuanzhang knew better.

The death of Xiao Tong was no accident.

It was one of the chips Xiao Yan had traded to secure the support of Tongtai Temple.

After all, in this lifetime, he himself had just consumed a precious elixir refined from the essence and blood of Xiao Tong.

And judging by the way Consort Ding had just acted.

She was also well aware that Xiao Yan was the mastermind behind it all.

Therefore, regarding the curse.

It was hard to say whether it was a baseless accusation that Xiao Yan had simply gone along with to frame the Crown Prince, or if Xiao Tong and the factions behind him had long been wary of Emperor Wu of Liang, Xiao Yan.

Perhaps they had truly intended to use the witchcraft of the Chu Region to curse Xiao Yan to death.

Only for the plot to be leaked, allowing Xiao Yan to strike back.

In short, the conclusion—

None of these people are simple!

Zhu Yuanzhang sighed inwardly.

He closed his eyes and began to chant the Sangqiwo Jataka Sutra.

Utilizing the cover of the Tiger-Skin Kasaya, he entered a state of suspended breath.

As for Fu Qi, Zhu Yuanzhang did not know what method the old man had used.

He lay stiffly on the ground, eyes wide open, his breathing ceased.

His blood temperature dropped, and his heart stopped beating.

If Zhu Yuanzhang hadn't watched him lie down voluntarily, sprinkle a handful of incense ash over his own head, and then transform into this state, he would have truly believed the old fellow was dead.

At least in this regard, he didn't lie.

Those aristocratic clans that migrated south during the Yongjia Southern Migration.

To have escaped the pursuing armies of the Five Barbarians and suppressed the "Witch Cults," the remnants of the Way of the Five Pecks of Rice, and smaller "folk sects," "local powerhouses," and "local factions" like the "Kitchen God Sect," "Ghost Abode," "Mountain Lord," "Five Poisons," "Spirit Shrine," and "Water Caller" in the regions south of the Yangtze River, Jingchu, and Bashu.

Considering the prevailing trend of aristocratic metaphysics that spanned the entire Northern and Southern Dynasties since the Wei and Jin periods.

These great clans that migrated south likely truly possess some formidable secrets.

Transformed into a magnificent tiger, Zhu Yuanzhang watched Fu Qi lying on the ground without blinking, his expression dark as he pondered.

Outside the door, accompanied by the clash of two behemoths within Hualin Garden.

The entire imperial garden had now completely transformed into a ghostly underworld.

Thousands of ghosts pushed through the doors, running rampant.

Refining the living, devouring one another.

It was a scene of hell on earth.

Within Hualin Garden, shadows of ghosts were everywhere, filled with wandering corpses and evil spirits.

Some had human heads and beast bodies.

Some were wreathed in sinister yin energy.

Some appeared like embroiderers or Dan actors, yet possessed sharp fangs and wore human skin.

Others sang nursery rhymes or performed plays, yet were so grotesque and bizarre that they felt like needles pricking one's back.

But in the face of true, absolute terror.

These minor imps of Yama were, in the end, nothing more than fodder for the battle of magic.

A shrill, mournful song drifted through the air.

Consort Ding hung suspended in the void, a thousand jade arms flanking her sides, stacking into a mountain of white jade that reached down with heavy, grasping limbs.

In an instant, she seized a hundred ghosts, devouring them as if drinking sweet nectar.

"Since you have died for me, for whom should I live on alone?"

"If you still cherish me, open the coffin for me!"

This was a plea, and yet it was also a curse!

"Since you have died for me, for whom should I live on alone?"

I am already dead! Why are you still allowed to live!

The sorrowful, winding melody poured out the singer's desperate attachment to her living lover in her final moments.

"If you still cherish me, open the coffin for me!"

She would demand that even in death, the coffin be pried open, so that her lover might be buried alongside her.

"!!!"

The black shadow drifting above the Hualin Garden offices shuddered violently.

Within the giant eye, now two-thirds reconstructed, the pitch-black pupil trembled uncontrollably.

It was forced to siphon power from Hualin Garden.

It used this to stabilize the giant eye and accelerate its construction.

The darkness within Hualin Garden is fading.

The fierce tiger raised its head, staring at the faint, cold light of the lanterns hanging from the branches outside the window.

The giant eye stabilized its form, narrowly avoiding the fate of being torn apart by those thousands of pale jade arms.

However—

It was not over yet!

"Carving arms to drink fresh blood, offering cattle and sheep to the heavens."

"Even when life turns to dust and ash, this love shall never cease."

Before the giant eye could complete its reconstruction, the shrill song rang out once more across the entirety of Hualin Garden.