Chapter 6: Miss, This Poem Won’t Do

“Miss Buyu!”

The third ghost warden fell to his knees with a heavy thud. “Please, I beg you, save our Zhao Wuchang! There are elders and children waiting for him at home—his youngest daughter is barely a month old. He cannot die!”

As he kowtowed and pleaded with Lin Buyu, even the other ghost wardens nearby found it hard to believe that this usually boisterous man could be brought so low.

“Miss Buyu, doesn’t the Sacred Healer’s Office have a Life Exchange Technique? How about you trade my life for Wuchang’s? I, Liu Laosan, am just a worthless soul, with not a single family member. If I die, so be it!”

His face streaked with tears and dust, Liu Laosan looked up at Lin Buyu.

“Mind your words! Our medical house has no such thing as a Life Exchange!” At the mention of that forbidden art, Lin Buyu’s face turned grim, her anger barely concealed.

Yet when she saw the terror and desperation in his eyes, her heart softened. She sighed, then said, “Take this seal of mine. Send your fastest runner to the Sacred Healer’s Office to request a third-rank sacred artifact known as the Wild Goose and Fish Lantern. I’ll do what I can to delay the spread of the ghostly aura here. But whether I can hold on until you return with the artifact—I cannot promise.”

As she spoke, she unfastened a seal from her waist and handed it to Liu Laosan.

“Alright, alright! With your word, Miss Lin, I am relieved!” With her promise, Liu Laosan sprang to his feet, took the seal, and beckoned to two ghost wardens at his side. “Stone Monkey, Sun Youfu—come with me to fetch the sacred artifact from the Sacred Healer’s Office!”

…

After Liu Laosan and his men left, Lin Buyu quickly dismissed the remaining wardens from the room, locked the door, chained Wuchang to the bed, and drew open all the crystal window curtains.

She then retrieved a set of silver needles from an ornate brocade box.

“Are those silver needles sacred artifacts as well? Of what grade?” Just as Lin Buyu prepared to begin the acupuncture, Xu Ye’s voice sounded from the side.

“Why are you still here?” Startled, Lin Buyu frowned.

“You never told me to leave,” Xu Ye replied matter-of-factly.

“Fine, there’s no time. Stay here, but don’t speak.” She didn’t wish to argue, and after this brief warning, Lin Buyu returned her focus to Wuchang.

With a deep breath, she finally placed the first needle into Wuchang’s abdomen.

Xu Ye watched, utterly absorbed. He knew nothing of acupuncture, much less the art in this world. What held his attention was his curiosity to see how Lin Buyu wielded sacred artifacts.

It was a rare opportunity to learn.

“Yin and yang can be counted as ten, extended to a hundred, counted as a thousand… Isn’t that from the Yellow Emperor’s Canon of Medicine?”

His new body had keen eyesight. Though he stood more than a meter away, Xu Ye could just make out tiny seal script characters carved into each needle.

“So it seems, in this world, the sacred artifacts used by doctors don’t have to be inscribed with Confucian classics—medical classics work, too,” he mused silently.

By now, Lin Buyu had inserted all nine silver needles into Wuchang’s body. The black ghostly aura that had been writhing beneath his skin now surged toward the needles. In the blink of an eye, the needles turned from silver to jet black.

Lin Buyu appeared entirely composed, as though she had expected this outcome.

Just as the ghostly aura on one needle was about to overflow, Lin Buyu reached out and began to roll the blackened needle between her fingers.

A simple acupuncture technique—but Xu Ye noticed that as Lin Buyu manipulated the needle, golden mist began to rise from her, mingling with the “sunlight” streaming through the windows.

Golden light flowed from her fingertips like grains of shining sand, washing the ghostly aura clean from the needles, then channeling it back into Wuchang’s body, suppressing what once surged uncontrollably.

“Is this how a scholar’s righteous energy is used in the hands of a healer?” Xu Ye was astonished.

He had witnessed a disaster where an evil spirit devoured people, and had even slain a ghost with a sacred artifact. Yet seeing righteous energy pour forth from a living person left his worldview shaken.

Suddenly, a chill wind swept through the room without warning, scattering papers across the floor.

But Xu Ye had no time to care about the mess—for at that moment, thick, smoky ghostly aura began to pour from the officer’s body on the bed.

The officer, whose eyes had been tightly shut, suddenly opened them wide, veins bulging, thrashing and roaring in an attempt to break free of his chains.

Yet Lin Buyu showed not the slightest trace of fear.

One hand continued to manipulate the needle, while the other pressed firmly on Wuchang’s chest. Then, with resolute conviction, she began to recite in a clear, ringing voice:

“Heaven shines bright above,
Its gaze falls upon the earth below.
I march westward, to the wild frontier.
In early spring, I depart, braving frost and heat…”

Almost as soon as her voice filled the room, golden radiance spread from her like a delicate mist, driving away the surrounding ghostly aura.

“My heart is laden with sorrow, its pain is deep.
Thinking of my kin, tears fall like rain.
How can I not wish to return home,
Yet I fear the net of guilt that ensnares…”

A fierce struggle ensued between Lin Buyu’s righteous energy and the ghostly aura within Wuchang, as she drove it back with the power of her recited verses.

“So, people in this world truly use poetry and prose to strengthen their righteous energy and suppress the spirits,” Xu Ye thought, marveling at the sight—and feeling grateful that his accidental recitation yesterday had worked.

“But this situation isn’t favorable for Miss Buyu—does she lack the righteous energy she needs?”

From the beads of sweat rolling down Lin Buyu’s brow, Xu Ye could tell she was barely holding her ground, struggling to maintain control.

“I think that poem she’s reciting is ‘Minor Brilliance’ from the Book of Songs… I wonder if switching poems would work better.”

Seeing Lin Buyu begin to falter, Xu Ye grew anxious.

“Miss Buyu, it seems that poem isn’t effective anymore. Why not try another?” he couldn’t help but suggest.

“It’s… it’s useless… At my level… the poems and essays I can access… have been recited countless times… They… they no longer have much effect on spirits…”

Lin Buyu stopped reciting, relying instead on her own dwindling righteous energy to withstand the ghostly aura pouring from Wuchang.

“Miss Buyu, among all the passages you’ve studied from the Six Classics, have you ever read the poem ‘Big Rat’?” Xu Ye moved closer to her side and asked, carefully probing.