Ghostly Shadows Gather, the Banished Immortal Stands Apart

Once the Karma Master left, the other monks took their leave one after another.

The commotion roused Zhang Ju and Chen He.

Neither man knew anything of ghosts or spirits, but one look at Chen Cuo's bearing told them their lord was very different from before.

Chen He felt it most keenly. He had served Chen Cuo for years, since before Nankang's two sons had established separate households. He knew that the prince's second son had always appeared cautious and restrained, while harboring many worries. He often left things unsaid and his wishes unfulfilled. Alert and sensitive, he spoke little, buried himself in books, and disliked talking to others.

Yet the man before him now seemed like someone else entirely. At first glance, he even had an air of one who had left the dust of the world behind—far stronger than Daoist Zhou's when Chen He had seen him the other day!

Could a few days in a Buddhist temple bring about such a change?

Uneasy and uncertain, he stepped forward to greet Chen Cuo. Then, not daring to delay, he quickly explained why he had come: the old madam wanted the lord home.

"That can wait." Chen Cuo waved a hand, looking untroubled. He clearly took it to heart no more than a passing breeze. Turning to Zhang Ju, he asked, "Cousin, you must have come for a reason?"

As soon as the two men had arrived, he had seen the radiance of human thoughts coiling around Zhang Ju and connecting to himself. He had sensed something in the Netherworld, which was why he asked.

Chen He had meant to press the matter, but Chen Cuo's effortless composure inspired an inexplicable awe in him. For a moment, he could not speak.

Zhang Ju paused, then said, "I have. I've had quite a time finding you these past few days, only to discover you here enjoying yourself."

"Sit first," Chen Cuo said. "Cousin, how can you say that? I came to Guishan Temple to seek peace through the Buddha. It's been toil, if anything. How could you call it enjoyment?"

They both laughed. Zhang Ju took a seat and asked why the monks had treated Chen Cuo that way.

Chen Cuo only smiled.

Seeing that he would say no more, Zhang Ju stopped asking and finally came to the point. "I came to see you about that story of yours."

"The Painted Skin?" Chen Cuo narrowed his eyes and studied his cousin. Before long, he spotted a few wisps of black qi clinging to him and understood something of the situation.

Pressure suddenly bore down on Zhang Ju. It felt like standing before the powerful ministers and renowned scholars he had met in the past, when every step seemed to tread on thin ice. When he came to his senses, he could not help feeling startled.

Chen Cuo smiled. "Tell me first. What does this have to do with The Painted Skin?"

That smile put Zhang Ju at ease, and he began by telling him about his friend Jiang Yi.

"Jiang Yi invited me over recently. During the gathering, he spoke very highly of you. He's sent people to ask after you several times these past few days. He says he wants to pay you a visit."

At this, Zhang Ju lowered his voice. "Jiang Yi is no ordinary man. His father holds a high position and enjoys imperial favor. Jiang Yi himself has access to the Eastern Palace and is close to the Heir Apparent. The one nearest the water gets the moon first. If you can make a friend of him, you'll gain a great deal!" His tone was earnest. To him, this was an opportunity for his cousin—and for himself.

"I know Jiang Yi speaks up for what's right. I should meet him, but there's no need to rush. Something more pressing is at hand." Chen Cuo nodded, recalling the pieces Lu Le and Jiang Yi had written earlier.

Zhang Ju was taken aback, but then thought he understood. His cousin was a member of the Imperial Clan and held a title. With so few members in the imperial family, he would have a future even if he had lived cautiously in the Prince's Residence. He had no need to chase connections as Zhang Ju did.

But that was not the main reason Zhang Ju had come today.

"There's something else?"

"Yes," Zhang Ju said. "There's also an invitation to a Literary Gathering. It has to do with several friends of mine..."

Someone had proposed gathering people to appraise The Painted Skin.

"Gathering to discuss The Painted Skin?" Chen Cuo's eyelid twitched. An intuition stirred in him. "Who will be there? The Painted Skin is a tale of the strange. Literary Gatherings are usually for composing poetry and couplets, for talk of wind, flowers, snow, and moonlight. It hardly fits. Why would they discuss it?"

He no longer cared much about worldly affairs, and he could not compose poetry or couplets. He was bound to be out of place. But once The Painted Skin became involved, the matter changed. The Evil Ghost might be stirring things up from the shadows.

A Literary Gathering ought to bring together scholars and men of renown to do exactly what Chen Cuo had said: talk of wind, flowers, snow, and moonlight, and compose poetry and couplets. To suddenly appraise a popular tale of the strange was decidedly odd!

"They're all eminent men and leading lights." Zhang Ju looked excited as he listed several names, then added, "Quite a few have legions of admirers. If you earn their praise, your name will soar overnight!"

Chen Cuo grew grave. "Renowned scholars with reputations far and wide, carrying the hopes of many, are gathering to discuss The Painted Skin. They've all read or heard it, haven't they?"

"Of course." Zhang Ju took Chen Cuo's expression for astonished delight and smiled. "Even those who haven't read it will before the gathering. Failing that, they'll hear it discussed there."

Chen Cuo sighed. "I suppose the gathering can't be canceled."

"Why cancel it?" Zhang Ju looked puzzled. Then he remembered that his cousin was young and perhaps had never faced such an occasion. "Don't be nervous. It's perfectly ordinary. Besides, we've already made arrangements with everyone. We can't go back on our word."

Chen Cuo nodded and said no more. He beckoned Chen Hai over. "Have someone bring some fruit from the temple for my cousin." Then he told Zhang Ju, "Cousin, let Chen Hai take you to the room next door to rest. I've been taking a short nap around this time every day. We can talk about anything else when I wake."

"We were talking perfectly well. Why take a nap now?" Zhang Ju was bewildered, but when he met Chen Cuo's eyes, he agreed without thinking. By the time he wanted to ask more, Chen Hai was urging him along.

Chen He hesitated too. But recalling how calmly Chen Cuo had spoken and made his arrangements, he set aside his doubts and followed them out.

Once they were gone, Chen Cuo brought out several things, arranged them on the table, then turned and sat cross-legged on the bed.

"There's too much about this Literary Gathering that doesn't add up. The Evil Ghost must have tainted the scholars' thoughts to set it in motion. If they truly have so many admirers, and the Evil Ghost pollutes those admirers' minds as well, it could gather their thoughts and shape itself. It might even break free of its restraints. This is a danger, but within danger lies opportunity. It may be time for the final confrontation—provided I first establish the god within my heart!"

His gaze fell on the table.

Several things lay there: a blank scroll, the Little Incense Burner, a few sticks of incense, and the meal the Young Novice Monk had just brought him.

After a moment's hesitation, Chen Cuo took the Little Gourd from his robes and placed it on the table too.

"If I visualize and establish the god, the Evil Ghost will certainly sense it and try to interfere. Such a shadowy fiend, its evil thoughts in disarray, will be suppressed beneath the Blazing Sun. I can use that to hold it off. Noon today is my chance. For now, I need to order my thoughts and work out each step."

Two more people had arrived at the gates of Guishan Temple, one following the other. The man in front was Qiuyuzi, the Curly-Bearded Daoist. A second man followed him.

The man had handsome features and, most strikingly, a pair of dark, bright eyes. He stood straight in a moon-white robe, a jade pendant hanging at his waist. The white stone was carved with a Scarlet Divine Dragon.

As he walked up the stone steps, the wind caught his long hair and robes. He seemed untouched by the dust of the world.