Chapter Seventy-Seven: Your Seven-Day Rite, Too

The rain began suddenly, pouring down with such intensity that its clamor drowned out every sound Hua Rong made. Amid the endless mist and rain, an unexplainable chill crept over her, making her shudder involuntarily.

She stood dumbly in place, anxiously scanning her surroundings, but apart from the darkness before her, there was not a glimmer of light anywhere.

“What should I do? Where has His Majesty gone? No, I must go out and look for him!”

After a moment's hesitation, she cast a fearful glance at the deluge outside. Yet, precisely because the rain was so fierce, if Jun Yeli had gone out alone, wasn't he courting disaster?

Taking a deep breath, her gaze flickered with indecision. Hurriedly, she snatched a parasol hanging by the door, opened it, and dashed out in a panic.

She had barely stepped outside when a deafening peal of thunder and a flash of lightning swept across the sky, enveloping everything.

“Oh!” Hua Rong gasped so loudly it seemed to shake heaven and earth, her legs trembling in terror.

The slippery, treacherous path beneath her feet made it hard to keep her composure, and the endless night felt unfathomable. Hua Rong wandered through it, shivering as the cold wind sobered her.

“Your Majesty, where are you? I know I was wrong, I’ll never argue with you again, please come back quickly...”

Her call blended with the sound of thunder and rain; she had no idea if anyone could hear her. As she staggered forward, her foot suddenly slipped and she fell to the ground.

The umbrella flew from her grasp, fluttered a moment, and was instantly carried away by the wind.

“...”

“Must it be like this? I only wanted to live a good life, I never wished to bear the guilt of indirectly harming the Emperor!”

Whether from worry or fear, her heart simply could not settle.

A sharp pain shot through her hand, and she caught the tang of blood in the air. Though she could not see where the blood was, the indescribable pain sent shivers through her.

“No... I can’t give up now.”

Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to her feet, staggering through the downpour. Who cared about the umbrella? Her life was what truly mattered!

But she had not gone far when the sodden path gave way under her, and she stumbled yet again, falling heavily. The pain blurred her senses, and the rain on her body stung like a thousand needles.

Her vision grew hazy; all around her seemed to stand still, her hearing dulled as if age had overtaken her.

“What now? I really can't go on. Your Majesty, I know my sins are grave. If you truly have met with misfortune, let tonight be my atonement...”

She had always wanted to cling to life, but the heavens showed her no mercy—perhaps this was fate.

With her last lingering thought, Hua Rong closed her eyes at last, curling up small and helpless in the relentless rain, forgotten and alone.

It was not until the next morning, when the rain had ceased and the sun shone brightly, that the world changed. The sunlight, hot on her skin, stood in stark contrast to the night before.

Dazed and heavy-headed, Hua Rong’s first sensation was a sharp medicinal smell that invaded her nostrils.

She frowned unconsciously, forcing open eyelids that felt weighed down with lead.

Her dark eyes flickered around the room. Its furnishings were simple yet orderly, understated without losing a sense of luxury.

“This room... why does it feel so familiar?”

She stretched her aching arms and rubbed her head, forcing herself to sit up. Glancing around, she saw nothing unusual besides the empty room and that strange medicinal odor.

Memories of the previous night flooded back—good and bad, all jumbled together—leaving her trembling with fear.

“Wait, the Emperor... and me, what happened? Isn't it said that after death, a soul returns to the place it died on the seventh day, to revisit the old haunts? Could it be I've been dead seven days already?”

This was more than a return to familiar ground—she was even hallucinating about such absurd things.

Hua Rong swallowed hard, but the pain in her body felt oddly real. “What is this? So the books were lying—turns out, you can still feel pain after death!”

She knocked her head with her hand, giving up all fear—as if, in this state, nothing could frighten her now.

Getting out of bed, she began to pace the room, taking in every detail as though seeing the world for the last time, curious as a newborn child.

But before she could take more than a few steps, someone burst through the door, carrying a bowl exuding that familiar, unpleasant smell.

Seeing Hua Rong wandering about heedless of her condition, the newcomer hurried over in alarm, scolding, “You had a high fever yesterday! How can you be out of bed already? Get back at once!”

At the sound, Hua Rong’s heart gave a start. She turned to look and, as expected, it was Jun Yeli.

“Your Majesty, what a coincidence, you’re here for your seventh day too? You’re not here to settle scores with me, are you? I swear I never meant to hurt you!”

She hastened to explain herself. Even as a ghost, the man’s presence was so commanding it inspired fear in both the living and the dead.

He seemed baffled by her words, unable to respond. Holding the bowl in one hand, he reached out with the other to feel her forehead, testing her temperature.

A puzzled look crept onto his face. “It’s true you’re a bit feverish, but not enough to be so muddle-headed. Did the rain make you daft?”

“Your Majesty, what are you doing? Now that we're both ghosts, you can’t treat me so casually anymore!”

Clutching her resolve to remain virtuous even in death, Hua Rong took several wary steps back, eyeing him with suspicion.

Jun Yeli stood there, confused. “What nonsense are you spouting? Ghosts? Do you really think you’re dead?”

At that, Hua Rong understood at last—he didn’t even realize he was dead! No wonder he still wandered about with a bowl of medicine, treating her as if she were alive.

“All right then, I suppose it’s my fault after all. Since we’re both lonely souls now, why not form a little team?”

Alive, she had never dared covet the Emperor’s beauty for fear of death. Now that she was dead, surely she could finally be as bold as she wished.