I Just Think Jusetsu is Neat

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The Turtle God split the sea and caused the waves to rise. Wulian Niangniang suffered from the raging waves.

“Raven Consort, my deepest gratitude for your help the other day.”

When Jusetsu headed toward the Kiou Gate to enter the outer court, a maid came running up to her and thanked her. Jusetsu had previously helped her find a lost item. After expressing her sincere gratitude many times, she returned to her palace.

This had been happening a lot lately. As she watched the maid leave, she noticed a decorative cord hanging from her sash. Its black color caught her eye.

“Black decorative cords are unusual,” she muttered casually.

“That’s the symbol of the Raven Consort’s followers,” Tan Kai said from behind her.

“Followers...? What do you mean?”

“As I said before, the number of visitors and tributes have been increasing. There are people who revere the Raven Consort.”

What’s with that, she thought.

“It’s the same as praying to a god. Just like the maids who pay their respects at the silkworm mound. Some ladies-in-waiting even wear fish-shaped ornaments instead of decorative cords to imitate you, Niangniang.”

Jusetsu knew about that. He was talking about a lady-in-waiting of Hakkaku Palace named Ki Senjo. She had stopped wearing the ornament of the Eight Truths sect and wore that instead.

But followers, huh.

This wasn’t something she could simply laugh off as ridiculous. Even if was just a passing fad, how many people were there really?

Reijou’s warning crossed her mind.

The Raven Consort is a solitary existence.

People shouldn’t gather around the Raven Consort. They would become her allies, form a faction, and eventually grow into a great force.

“They call Niangniang the ‘Sable-Clad Niangniang’ because you always wear black.”

Black wasn’t a taboo color, but since it was the color of ravens, it was avoided among the populace. Even without that, dyeing clothing a beautiful black color required both money and effort, so no one would go to the trouble of wearing black garments, a color considered unlucky.

“Don’t put unnecessary things in Niangniang’s ears, Tan Kai.” Onkei scolded the other eunuch, perhaps out of concern for Jusetsu’s silence.

“It’s not unnecessary. It doesn’t hurt to know.”

“Knowing everything isn’t always best. Stop bothering Niangniang needlessly.”

“You know—”

“Tan Kai, Onkei,” Jusetsu called their names while facing forward. The two closed their mouths.

“...I will not accept requests from anyone for a while. Even if someone comes, do not let them into Yamei Palace.”

With this order, Jusetsu hurried onward.

Jusetsu’s destination was the Winter Ministry. She was in a hurry because Senri had called for her.

When she entered the ministry, she found Koushun there first. He was sitting on the other side of a large folding screen, with Senri standing beside him. A paper scroll was unfurled on the table.

Pale sunlight streamed in through the lattice window, illuminating the room brightly. Yet, perhaps due to the different angle compared to summer, the light was faint and translucent, seeming at times as if it might shatter at any moment. Jusetsu imagined the thin wings of a mayfly.

“I copied as much as I could decipher and compiled it into a scroll. Where I couldn’t read the text, I left a blank space. Some of the stories on those thirty pages were continuous, while others told entirely different tales, but I didn’t want them to get scattered, so I compiled them into this one volume.”

As he spoke, Senri unrolled the scroll again next to Jusetsu.

“These are the mysterious tales that were passed down among the people at the time...so-called ghost stories, divination books, ancient songs, and myths. These myths haven’t been passed down to the present day. It is believed that many myths and legends have been lost as dynasties changed, so in that sense, these are extremely valuable records. And,” he continued. “The value of learning about Wulian Niangniang goes beyond that.”

Senri unrolled the scroll further and pointed to a line of characters.

“‘The Turtle God split the sea and caused the waves to rise. Wulian Niangniang suffered from the raging waves...’ ...It tells of the battle between the Turtle God and Wulian Niangniang.”

“Battle,” Jusetsu muttered.

“There isn’t much context to the story, so some parts are unclear, but this seems to have taken place during the reign of the Worm King—the early period of the Warring Era.”

After the Summer King killed the Winter King, the country fell into an era of war. Kings rose and fell, and were defeated again and again. The Worm King was one of them. To be honest, Jusetsu didn’t remember all the names of the kings from that era.

“In other words, it was about a thousand years ago.”

“A thousand years...”

Jusetsu felt like she’d heard that neat number somewhere before. But where?

“The details of the battle were recorded in detail here. The two gods fought at sea. It was an evenly matched battle. The Turtle God raised raging waves, while Wulian Niangniang raised violent winds. As the waves’ pebbles hit Wulian Niangniang, the winds turned into blades that sliced the Turtle God apart. The mountains erupted in fire, and arrows of lightning fell. Both gods exhausted their strength.”

“Both?”

“Yes. The Turtle God sank into the western sea, and Wulian Niangniang sank into the eastern sea. The fierce battle between the two gods caused Ikahi Island to sink as well.”

--Ikahi Island.

It was an island located between Shou and Kakami, and was said to have been an important hub for trade. At some point, it sank into the sea.

“It was mentioned earlier that the mountains erupted in flames. It is likely that the volcano on Ikahi Island erupted, causing it to sink. And there’s more,” Senri pointed to the passage and read aloud. “‘Wulian Niangniang then cut off half of her body and fled to the top of a mountain. That mountain is called the Prostrating Wings Mountain. The other half of her body became a black feather-cutting sword and sank to the ocean floor. That year, the Worm King was slain by his traitorous vassals and met his end.’ After running out of strength, Wulian Niangniang split herself into two before sinking deep into the sea... This is an extremely important statement that cannot be ignored. By splitting herself, she avoided sinking completely into the sea. Conversely, the current Wulian Niangniang only has half of her body. Could this be the reason why she became weaker?”

Senri’s voice was as calm as ever, but there was an undeniable passion in it. This was likely evidence supporting the theory he had been advocating.

The struggle for supremacy among the gods, the god’s weakening, and the war-torn world meant that the Winter King hadn’t appeared for a long time. Perhaps it was because Wulian Niangniang herself had fallen into peril.

“So that is why the Winter King did not appear until the first Raven Consort, Koushou, emerged...?” Jusetsu said, as if asking herself a question.

“I think so,” Senri nodded. “Raven Consort, you said before that Ui, the guard of the treasure storeroom, told you, ‘The Turtle God has gone into seclusion,’ did you not?”

“Ah.” Ui—a eunuch with a smooth, expressionless face who had been the guard of the treasure storehouse. His true identity was a servant created by the Turtle God. He had said that he became Wulian Niangniang’s servant when the Turtle God went into seclusion. Then, he disappeared when the Turtle God summoned him again.

“This passage must be describing it. The Turtle God sank into the western sea. Unlike Wulian Niangniang, it sank completely.”

“And he said it has been revived.”

“Whether it was triggered by something, or whether its power gradually recovered over a long period of time, I cannot say...”

“So, will the other half of Wulian Niangniang that sank into the eastern sea also be revived?”

“Yes, it will. The Turtle God is a precedent. That’s assuming this book is correct, of course.”

Koushun, who had been contemplating in silence, interjected. “If it isn’t correct, there’s no reason to conceal it even at the cost of sacrificing a life.”

Senri nodded. “I think so as well.”

“The emperor probably wanted to hide the fact that Wulian Niangniang was incomplete and that she only had half her power. It also seemed like the Owl seemed to have thought of something about her conflict with the Turtle God.”

The word “Owl” made Jusetsu think. She remembered.

“A thousand years.”

Both Koushun and Senri turned their attention to her after those words slipped out.

“When the Owl tried to kill me, he said, ‘I did pretty well, being so patient for a thousand years, didn’t I?’”

That meant it had been a thousand years since the Raven was injured in battle. Even if she had simply been banished for a crime, the Owl wouldn’t have tried to interfere. He would have simply kept an eye on her. But when he realized how badly injured she was—he endured a thousand years after that.

Jusetsu silently studied the words on the unfurled scrolls. She reached out and pointed to a word.

“‘The other half of her body became a black feather-cutting sword and sank to the ocean floor.’ …What does ‘black feather-cutting sword’ mean?”

“I’m not sure. Does it mean that the black sword is called ‘Feather Cutter,’ or is this itself a metaphor for something…”

“In any case, half of Wulian Niangniang’s body is submerged in the eastern sea.” Jusetsu looked at Senri. “Senri, what would happen if this other half were to be restored?”

Senri frowned. “I cannot say. If the restored Turtle God has regained enough power to reclaim his servants, then Wulian Niangniang…”

Jusetsu clutched her chest. Koushou had trapped Wulian Niangniang inside the Raven Consort. But how was that possible? How could a mere shamaness overpower someone strong enough to be called a god…?

What if it was because Wulian Niangniang was weak?

“—Will we no longer be able to lock her away?”

Once Wulian Niangniang regained her powers, she would surely not remain in a human body.

“The Raven may be freed…”

“However,” Senri’s expression grew even more pained. “That wouldn’t necessarily be the safest method for you.”

Jusetsu thought of Shougetsu, the Owl’s tsukaibe, who had scattered into feathers. That might be what the final moments of a vessel was like.

“But this is a ray of hope,” she said, lowering her eyes to the scroll.

Yes, a ray of hope. For us, who hadn’t found a single solution.

Senri looked at Koushun, as if hesitating, or as if seeking his judgment.

“…Indeed, it may be the only way to free the Raven and save the Raven Consort,” Koushun’s voice was quiet and matter-of-fact, his true thoughts unclear. “But we don’t know how she can be revived. If the Turtle God had regained its power through the passage of time, will Wulian Niangniang also be revived soon? Or will the same not happen? Or will she be unable to be revived without some kind of help…”

Koushun added that there was one thing bothering him. “The Owl said the Turtle God demands a sacrifice.”

“Sacrifice?” Jusetsu frowned. “Was he talking about a human sacrifice?”

“Since the Owl pointed out the Turtle God specifically, Wulian Niangniang…the Raven must be different. Perhaps the gods of the Palace of Seclusion are different from the gods born here.”

“There are certainly records of rituals in which human sacrifices were made to the Turtle God. These include bronze ritual implements and stone carvings unearthed beneath the remains of temples, and diaries written on bamboo and wooden strips excavated from tombs. These all seem to date back to the distant past, and there’s no indication that such practices are still being conducted at existing Turtle God temples. However, I am not sure about remote regions, though,” Senri, an expert on regional beliefs, explained. “Human sacrifices, or rituals offering livestock like cattle, aren’t exclusive to the Turtle God. They’re also common in offerings to river gods and rain gods like the River Lord and the Rain Master. These were ceremonies to quell floods and pray for rain. In the case of the Turtle God, human sacrifices were apparently offered to calm storms or pray for abundant catches. Depictions and tales of young maidens throwing themselves into the sea remain. There are no such traces at the temples of Wulian Niangniang, and this remains true to this day.”

“The Turtle God sunk into the sea. The sea is both the birthplace and graveyard of many forms of life. Souls wander there as well. Some perish in maritime disasters.”

Surely there was no shortage of sacrifices. What if its regained power was the result of feeding on them over the years?

“...If the revived Turtle God also requires human sacrifices...” Jusetsu muttered to herself as she pondered.

The Turtle God should have a priestess now.

Ki Senjo, a follower of the Eight Truths, had talked about it. The Turtle God—Hakumyoushi’s priestess, Injou. She was said to be a young girl.

Koushun spoke up in place of the silent Jusetsu. “I don’t know if Wulian Niangniang, who doesn’t require a sacrifice, can regain her power in the sea, but it’s certain that she’s sunk to the bottom. Can’t we find her?”

“Find her...Your Majesty?”

“If she became a large sword and sank to the bottom of the sea, then we just need to search for it.”

To this, Jusetsu retorted, “Even if we search, merely saying that it’s in the eastern sea won’t tell us where it is.”

“To the east of Shou is the nation of Ake. The range is smaller than the west. And since Ikahi Island was affected, it must be closer to the north.”

“But it would still be like finding a single grain of sand on a beach—if not even harder.”

“Let’s ask the Owl if there’s a way to find it. Or maybe that man knows.”

Jusetsu was about to ask who he was talking about, but then remembered.

“You mean Hou Ichigyou?”

Koushun nodded. “Perfect timing. Shall we go question him?”

“Right now?”

“That was my intention all along. –Over there.”

He pointed toward the lattice window.

“You see that building over there? Everyone in the Winter Ministry lives in this building, and that one is vacant, so I thought it would be convenient to move him there. After all, we can’t just keep tending to him in the inner court forever.”

After a pause, Jusetsu let out a small “eh” and then cleared her throat, embarrassed by the foolish sound she just made.

“Hou Ichigyou is here?”

“That’s right.”

“Are you planning to keep him here from now on?”

“He’s guarded. He probably won’t run away, but there’s no point in doing so either. Some of the Winter Ministry’s acolytes have medical knowledge, so we can rest easy on that front. Let’s go.”

After saying that in a matter-of-fact tone, Koushun quickly headed for the door. Senri hurriedly, but also carefully, began rolling up the scroll. “Please wait, Your Majesty. I’ll summon someone to guide you now.”

Koushun’s actions and words are calm and composed, and he maintained an unassuming demeanor, which sometimes caused those around him to react slowly.

“You should speak a little more pompously.”

“Pompously? How?”

“How... Hmm, perhaps you should act arrogant and prideful.”

“Like you?”

Senri burst into laughter. Jusetsu glared at him. “I’m sorry,” he said, but his shoulders were still shaking.

“Did I say something wrong?” Koushun asked expressionlessly.

“I don’t care anymore.” Jusetsu turned her face away and headed for the door.

Guided by the acolyte Senri summoned, they headed to the building at the back. The acolyte was wearing a robe as gray as the winter sky. It was a similar color to the robes of eunuchs.

They followed his gray back and crossed the corridor. It was quiet, and gentle sunlight was shining through. Though the corridors were similar in design, the ones in the inner palace had a more glamorous air with the lingering scent of cosmetics and flowers, while the ones at Koutou Hall was filled with the bright energy of the scholars. This corridor was enveloped in tranquility and cleanliness. And yet there was also a sense of warmth, perhaps reflecting the personality of Senri, the director of this place.

The courtyard, visible from the corridor, was lined with modestly planted plants, all of which were clearly well cared for. There were old maple trees, silverleafs, and saxifrages. It was a quiet, beautiful garden. Senri was pleased when she praised it.

The exterior of the building appeared to be in worse condition than the rest, with peeling mud walls in places and cracked roof tiles covered in moss and grass, but that wasn’t the case inside. The room was small and the furnishings modest, consisting of a wooden cabinet and table, a folding screen, and a bed. It was immaculately cleaned and not the slightest bit dusty. It certainly had the appearance of a Winter Ministry residence.

Inside the room, an elderly man was sitting up in bed.

“Your Majesty...”

Surprised by Koushun’s entrance, the old man tried to get off the bed, but Koushun stopped him.

“Stay as you were. I didn’t come here to ask for your gratitude. I simply want to ask you some questions.”

“Yes, Your Majesty...”

The old man was skinny and hunched over, looking remarkably small. Jusetsu was surprised to learn that this was Hou Ichigyou. The elderly people she knew were Reijou, Gyoei, and the old servant Keishi, all of whom possessed a dignified presence, so she had imagined Hou Ichigyou to be just that. She hadn’t expected to see such a shabby—that was the only way to put it—old man.

Hou Ichigyou wore a russet robe, and his limp white hair was tied into a small topknot. His head was bowed.

“Jusetsu.”

Jusetsu, who had stopped near the door, approached the bed at Koushun’s beckoning. It was then that Hou seemed to notice her. Seeing her in her black robes, he simply blinked, not particularly surprised.

“You are the Raven Consort?” Hou looked down, avoiding Jusetsu’s gaze. “Raven Consort, I truly did not know that Shougetsu intended to harm you.”

His voice was husky and weak.

“Truly—”

“That’s enough.” Jusetsu snapped. She was strangely irritated by the sight of this feeble old man. She would almost prefer it if he was hostile towards her. Seeing him like this made her feel as if she were the one mistreating him.

Hou gazed at her with bleary eyes. “You resemble the previous Raven Consort slightly... No, not in appearance, but her way of speaking.”

I see, this person frequented the inner palace, so perhaps he was acquainted with Reijou.

“Were you close with Reijou? She knew some sorcerous arts.”

“Yes, yes,” Hou nodded enthusiastically. “I was the one who taught her sorcery. Well, I wouldn’t say we were close, though.”

“...I see.”

“She was an unusual Raven Consort. She was likely the longest-lived among all her predecessors. Raven Consorts who lived long lives were exceedingly rare; most tended to die young.”

“Why? Koushun interjected.

“It’s because the nights of the new moon are far too harsh and cruel. It’s not something one could endure for decades...”

On nights of the new moon, the Raven trapped inside the Raven Consort’s body would escape and wander about, causing her excruciating pain as if her limbs were being torn off.”

“But the previous Raven Consort endured it, didn’t she?”

“She truly was a woman of strong will and courage. She tried to bear the Raven Consort’s suffering upon herself as much as possible.”

Reijou.

Jusetsu felt a tightness in her throat. She couldn’t breathe.

“She asked me to teach her sorcery as it was useful for small things. We were also the guards of the Raven Consort, so we couldn’t openly become friendly with her, but—”

 “Guards?” Jusetsu questioned.

“Hah...” Hou blinked.

“What do you mean, ‘guards’?”

“We sorcerers serving the emperor were his shield against Wulian Niangniang.”

“Shield.”

I’ve heard similar words before.

“‘A defense against Wulian Niangniang in case of an emergency’ ... ‘A wall.’” Those were Ui’s words. “The sorcerers and Goushi Hall—”

“That’s right. We existed in case Wulian Niangniang or the Raven Consort rose up in rebellion against the Summer King. At that time, we were to destroy both of them. That was why we were allowed to enter and leave the inner palace.”

Hou’s back had straightened and his tone became firmer. Jusetsu wondered if this was how he was like when he served the emperor.

“However, the Raven Consort was imprisoned in the inner palace, all alone. We were always monitoring her closely, so she couldn’t gather followers. Even the Raven Consort would find it difficult to accomplish anything alone. Even if she tried to escape the imperial palace, Koushou’s barrier is at the gates, so she would die if she leaves.”

“Koushou’s barrier?”

It was said that leaving the imperial palace meant death, but of course she never tried it. Jusetsu wondered if any Raven Consorts had tried it in the past. –Some probably had. That was why it became a legend.

“I only know this from stories passed down between shaman, but...” Hou frowned, looking a touch fearful. “It is said that Koushou used her own fingers to create the barrier.”

There was a moment of silence.

“...Fingers?” It was Jusetsu who asked again. Koushun and Senri listened in silence to their conversation.

“I don’t know if it was her fingers or toes. I’ve only heard that since there are nine gates, nine fingers were used.”

To think she would go that far.

A sudden chill ran down Jusetsu’s spine, making her shiver slightly. Was it Koushou’s love for Ran Yuu, the first emperor of the Ran dynasty, that drove her to this? Was it truly love?

“To be precise, it’s a zuhu created using nine fingers. A zuhu is a cursed object, so it’s closer to sorcery rather than barrier magic. It was a curse cast by Koushou. She was worried that after her death, the Raven Consort might defy the emperor. Though we are in the inner palaces, eunuchs are also present. The Winter Officials are also in the Winter Ministry. If they were so inclined—”

“Wait. Why are eunuchs a problem?”

Hou looked intently at Jusetsu. His eyes were gray with age.

“Have you not been told? You must not have eunuchs by your side.”

“I have been told that. The Raven Consort must be alone.”

Hou nodded. “Because she is not allowed to have followers. The Raven Consort has people who could become her followers. ‘The gray robe is a symbol of the Raven Consort’s servants.’ Are you familiar with that saying?”

“Yes, I know of it...”

Gray robes. That’s right, after she first encountered Ui, something had suddenly occurred to her.

Why are eunuchs’ robes gray?

“Eunuchs were originally the servants of Wulian Niangniang. Just as those of the Winter Ministry were. If we were the shields of the emperor, then they are the shields of the Raven Consort.”

“...But eunuchs...”

Weren’t they supposed to serve the emperor and his consorts?

“The treasure storeroom has a guard, does it not?”

“You mean Ui? He’s no longer there.”

“That is the true form of a eunuch. One without gender who serves the gods. I’ve heard there were others like that in the past. The eunuchs made from men today are mere counterfeits.”

Jusetsu couldn’t even blink. Her mouth was dry.

“...But if the eunuchs we have now are counterfeits, would there be any harm in keeping them by my side?”

“To be a counterfeit means to be similar. Having abandoned both their sex and the secular world, they are the closest to being a god’s servants. They essentially need a god. Haven’t you ever felt it? They lost their sex, are reviled, and will only be abandoned when they die. With no salvation anywhere to turn to, it becomes easy to cling to the existence of the Raven Consort. Of course, her own qualities are also a factor, but—” Hou gazed intently into Jusetsu’s eyes. “Perhaps you are capable of doing so. The Raven Consort can obtain anything she desires.”

“...Ran Hyougetsu said something similar.”

As soon as she mentioned his name, Hou’s expression fell. His eyes widened, and his lips trembled.

“I met the ghost of Hyougetsu,” she explained to the shaken Hou. He had been Hyougetsu’s teacher.

His once-erect back hunched again as he slumped down. Where had the dignity of the emperor’s sorcerer gone? His face once again resembled that of a pathetic old man.

“Did Hyougetsu become a restless ghost? How pitiful.”

“He has now crossed over to paradise. There is no need for sorrow,” she said, but Hou’s face wrinkled with grief. Tears welled up in his eyes.

“I...I abandoned him and ran away. I was afraid of dying... Even though he was my disciple.”

“Don’t cry for yourself. It’s unseemingly,” she snapped again, and Hou sniffled.

“You two really are alike...”

“Do you mean Reijou? I’ve already heard that.”

“No, you resemble the eunuch who came to arrest me.”

“Ei Sei?” It was Koushun who said that.

“I don’t know his name.”

“I’m nothing like him,” Jusetsu frowned, complaining. Hou let out a “Haa” and remained silent.

“You were talking about eunuchs. So?”

“Ah, where was I? Ah, yes, eunuchs are prone to becoming servants of the Raven Consort. In the previous dynasty, sorcerers prevented this, but now there are none.”

The previous emperor before the last despised sorcerers and either banished or executed them all.

“It’s too dangerous. In the future, Raven Consorts will not fare as they did during the previous dynasty.”

“Hou Ichigyou,” Koushun called his name in a serious tone.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Hou replied respectfully.

“There’s another reason why it won’t be the same.”

Hou looked dumbfounded, not understanding what Koushun meant. “Huh...”

“The situation is different from before. The Turtle God is regaining its power. Wulian Niangniang is getting weaker and weaker. –Do you know that half of her body is submerged in the eastern sea?”

Hou was shocked. “How did you know that?”

“I found a copy of an ancient document that hadn’t been completely disposed of. The emperor had it disposed of to hide the fact that Wulian Niangniang only had half her power.”

“...It was passed down to us orally. It must never be leaked to anyone else. The disposal of the documents was partly to conceal the fact that Wulian Niangniang had lost half her body, but there’s another reason.”

Hou turned to Jusetsu.

“We can’t have the Raven Consort thinking about searching for the other half.”

“Why is that?”

“It was thought that if Wulian Niangniang regained her other half, the Raven Consort will no longer be able to contain her.”

This line of thinking was shared by Jusetsu and the others.

“But is it even possible to find it?”

“The fact that they feared it suggests it must be possible. Probably, for the Raven Consort. Do you know why Wulian Niangniang slips breaks free from your body on nights of the new moon?”

Koushun looked at Jusetsu. She turned to Hou. “Isn’t it because she becomes free?”

“She is searching for her other half.”

Jusetsu exhaled. I see. So that is the truth. That is why she’s flying all over, causing the Raven Consort to feel like she’s being torn apart...

“...I see.”

Koushun crossed his arms and looked lost in thought. Jusetsu had no idea what he was thinking.

“What do you know about the Turtle God?”

“In a sense, the Turtle God is the ancestor of us sorcerers. It is said that it was the Turtle God who bestowed magic upon sorcerers. A young man who received the magic from the god systematized it as sorcery and taught it to the people, thus creating sorcerers... The first emperor is said to be a descendant of the Turtle God, and perhaps for this reason, sorcerers have served the dynasty since ancient times. Goushi Hall is under the protection of the Turtle God, and we are those who have received magic from the god, so we serve as a shield against Wulian Niangniang.”

The way Hou narrated was both calm and solemn, like an old man telling an ancient legend to a young child.

“The Turtle God is an ancient, primordial deity that has existed among humans since primitive, barbaric times. At first, it was worshipped as a deity for bountiful catches and safe voyages, but over time it also came to be revered as a god of longevity. This is probably evidence that the faith of fishermen migrated inland. It was likely spread by them as they migrated. Since inland people didn’t need bountiful catches or safe voyages, their beliefs likely became vague, focusing on things like living long lives. Because it is an ancient god, as time passes, people’s lives change, and so do the forms of worship, eventually leading to it being forgotten. There some interesting legends surrounding the Turtle God, preserved in the ritual texts of the wubangs...”

The wubangs were groups of entertainers, of which Onkei belonged. Jusetsu had heard that they were originally sorcerers who traveled around the coastal areas praying for a good catch.

Hou recited the ritual text. It was an ancient chant, sung in archaic words and mysterious melodies, recounting the nation’s origins and the emperor’s lineage.

As moonlight fell on the sea, two gods were born. The first was the god of shadows, the second the god of light

At the end of the sea, separated by eight thousand nights, the first god hid in his dark palace

The second god dance and sang in the palace of the moon. Thus, the first was called the Palace of Seclusion, and the second was called the Palace of Tranquility.

A god was born from the water gate of the Palace of Seclusion. Their name was the Great Turtle God

For its sins, it was cut into eight pieces and exiled from the Palace of Seclusion

Its head became Jie, its arms became Bahuang, and its legs became Gulu

Its shell became mountains and valleys, its blood became rivers

Its eyes became swamps, and its breath became whirlpools that give rise to ocean currents

From the rotten flesh, rice ripened and dropped seeds, mulberries and silkworms grew, and man was born

And from a single bone, a white turtle god was born, named the Turtle God

It calms the raging waves and protects ships

Eight generations later, the white king was born—that is, the beginning of the emperors…

After humming the chant, Hou began to cough. Senri brought an outer robe hanging on the chair and draped it over his shoulders.

“Try to keep your body warm. I’ll bring you some medicine.”

“I’m sorry,” Hou had another coughing fit. Senri was used to dealing with this, as he himself was prone to illness.

“That’s enough for today. I’ll come again,” Koushun said briefly and headed for the door. Jusetsu looked at Hou, who was hunched over.

“…Even an old man as wise and experienced as you is powerless to overcome the guilt of fleeing in fear of death.”

Just like Jusetsu when she was a child.

Hou looked up at her with a puzzled look. Did Jusetsu feel irritated by this withered old man because she saw her own weakness reflected in him?

“I know not by what twist of fate, but in any case, thanks to your survival, I now know many things. Who can say what was the best decision?”

Hou blinked.

“I have more questions to ask you later. Take care of yourself.”

Jusetsu left the room. Koushun, who had left earlier, was waiting in the corridor. As she walked over to him, she thought that one never knew what would be a blessing and what would be a curse. A blessing now might turn into a curse later. Nothing was certain.

In that case, there’s no certainty other than making your own choice. Even if it turns out to be a mistake.

If it were one's own decision, then the mere fact that one chose it would be certain, and it would just become another mark in the vast ocean.

Even after learning the truth about Wulian Niangniang, Jusetsu continued to pass her days as usual at Yamei Palace. Unlike before, she refrained from accepting requests from the people of the inner palace. She couldn’t allow such as strange belief as the “Sable-Clad Niangniang” continue to thrive. There seemed to be no end to the people who came every night, but they were all chased away by Onkei and Tan Kai.

...However.

“Raven Consort, I have a request—”

Though she kept turning away nighttime visitors, people would cling to Jusetsu as she walked through the inner palace, which troubled her. The number of believers was indeed increasing, but how could things suddenly become like this?

“Perhaps I should hole up in Yamei Palace for a while.”

As she was muttering this on her way back from visiting Kajou to return a borrowed book, yet another maid called out to her again. Onkei tried to block her, but the maid continued to plead regardless.

“If you cannot accept my request, may I at least have a talisman?”

“A talisman?” Jusetsu stopped and turned around.

“I’ve seen maids and eunuchs from my palace carry them. They say it’s a talisman to ward off misfortune.”

An evil-warding talisman?

Jusetsu did sometimes give out talismans, but she didn’t recall writing any recently.

What is happening here?

“I did not write those.”

“What...”

Jusetsu shook off the maid and hurried to Yamei Palace.

“That’s strange,” she muttered.

“What is?” Tan Kai asked.

“The talismans?” Onkei said.

“That as well, but...is this recent situation not strange? It feels as though so many people are suddenly relying on me.”

“Isn’t it how these things go? Just like a fever.”

Tan Kai didn’t seem to think anything was particularly strange. Onkei’s face remained serious, as though he was taking her words seriously.

“Do you think there are instigators?”

“I do not know if it is intentional or not.”

“I’m sure there are people spreading these rumors out of goodwill. If you want to call them instigators, then it wouldn’t be inaccurate. On the other hand, there are unscrupulous people selling fake talismans.”

“They must be fakes after all.”

“People who think up that kind of business are everywhere, you know.”

“But,” Onkei countered. “I don’t think someone without knowledge could make talismans.”

“If someone has a talisman they received from somewhere, they could just copy it and make more, right? But, you know, it would require a lot of paper, so it’s not something just anyone could do unless they got the money to spare.”

Onkei looked at Jusetsu. “Shall we investigate, Niangniang?”

“Hmm... I suppose so. We can’t just leave it be.”

“Then I’ll investigate whether there’s an instigator. –Tan Kai, you look into the false talismans.”

“I don’t like being ordered around by you.”

“Listen to Onkei, Tan Kai.”

When Jusetsu ordered him, Tan Kai’s face immediately changed into a bright smile. “Understood, Niangniang.”

Onkei let out a deep sigh.

When they returned to Yamei Palace, Jiujiu came running up to her. She seemed to have been waiting for her impatiently.

“Niangniang, a maid from Hakkaku Palace just came to deliver an invitation from the Crane Consort.”

“From Banka? What for?”

“She’s inviting you to tea. However, it’s not at Hakkaku Palace, but Samon Palace in the outer court.”

“To the outer court? Why?”

“Her father and other family members are currently staying there. The Crane Consort visits them frequently.”

Saname Chouyou, huh.

Why did Banka invite her to tea with them?

“Where is Samon Palace?”

“I don’t know much about the outer court either. A eunuch from Hakkaku Palace is waiting at the front to guide us there.”

Hmm, Jusetsu thought. Blast it. Onkei and Tan Kai are out investigating.

Perhaps an escort wasn’t needed. Banka had told her to be careful of Chouyou, but...

It can’t be helped.

“I see. I’ll be heading out, now.”

“Who will be accompanying you?”

“I’ll take Onkei,” Jusetsu lied and left the palace. Entering the woods surrounding Yamei Palace, she looked up. The evergreen leaves of the oak trees had grown thick enough to block out the sun. Since summer, the leaves’ green had dulled, and they appeared less moist.

“—Sumaru.”

Jusetsu called out the spotted nutcracker’s name. Her voice carried through the dark shadows of the forest, and soon the sound of wings echoed. A crackling cry came. A bird appeared with the sound of flapping wings. The woodpecker’s body seemed cut out of the star-studded night sky.

As she reached out, Sumaru flew down into her arms and cried out again, as if in longing.

“I shall take one of your feathers.”

Jusetsu put her fingers under its wing. The feather slipped smoothly into her hand without even having to pull it out. It was a delicate brown feather with white flecks.

“Go.”

With a wave of her arm, Sumaru took off. Jusetsu tucked the feather into her chest like a talisman and returned to the palace. Then, accompanied by her eunuch guide, they headed to Samon Palace.

Samon Palace was located southwest of the outer court. It was an impressive structure, likely intended for welcoming guests. The roofed walls were tall and tiled luxuriously, and the gate was imposing. The roof of the palace visible beyond was covered with shiny lapis-lazuli tiles and decorative tiles resembling fish fins and tails. The elaborate openwork lanterns hanging from the eaves swayed in the refreshing breeze. It was quite a difference from the Winter Ministry.

After passing through the gate, the eunuch guide led her up the steps to the main hall, but instead of going inside, he walked to the right along the outer corridor. Crossing a corridor to the east, Jusetsu was led further in. There, she was told, was a pavilion facing a scenic garden. After a while, a pond came into view. She stopped to gaze at it. Beyond the rippling pond were rows of green trees, resembling a lush mountain. Several unusually shaped rocks in the pond added to its charm. In front of the pond, a man stood with his back turned toward her.

Who’s that?

The man was dressed strangely. She could tell he was a man from his stature. His tall, slender though broad-shouldered body was dressed in a light-brown robe with a sleeveless flaxen jacket on top of it. The jacket was covered in intricate embroidery in various colored threads. The sash was similarly embroidered, with decorative trim draping from the edges. His face was obscured. It wasn’t because she was only seeing him from his back—there was a piece of cloth completely covering his head. It wasn’t the thin silk that high-ranking women wore when going out. How could he see with that? The cloth was also intricately embroidered with small beads and lapis lazuli ornaments hanging from the edges. Long, braided black hair flowed out from underneath the cloth. Cords were braided into the hair. Everything about his appearance was completely unfamiliar.

I don’t think this is Chouyou.

However, he didn’t look like a servant. Was he a foreigner?

“Please, come over here.”

The man called out to Jusetsu without turning around, startling her. It was the voice of a middle-aged man. Before she knew it, the eunuch guiding her had disappeared. Jusetsu descended the steps of the corridor and approached the pond. She kept her distance from the man.

The ornaments on the thin cloth the man was wearing swayed slightly. It took a moment for her to realize he was laughing.

“Haha... Don’t worry. You don’t need to be so wary. I’m not going to do anything. I simply called you here because I wanted to talk to you.”

Jusetsu felt a chill, a strange discomfort like goosebumps appearing on her skin. She felt a strong sense of caution and rejection toward this man. Had I met him before? No, that can’t be. But...

“...You called me? Then, what about Banka?”

“Lady Banka is at Hakkaku Palace. She does not know anything. I asked her lady-in-waiting to deliver the invitation.”

“Who are you? Are you one of Saname Chouyou’s aides?”

Unless he was close to Chouyou, he couldn’t easily ask a lady-in-waiting for a favor, nor would she grant such a request.

The man seemed to laugh again.

“No, I’m certainly not an aide...merely an acquaintance. I am a sousei—a fortune teller, you see—from Uka. My name is Gyokugan.”

Uka. A small country across the sea to the south. Jusetsu knew little more than the name. Was he really from that country? She doubted it.

“Why is someone like you here? What do you want from me?”

“I told you, I wanted to talk to you—”

“What about?” Jusetsu said in a cutting tone. She felt like she had to, lest she be ensnared. Why did she despise this man so much? Surely she must have met him somewhere...

“About curses.”

His voice was so low that it felt as though it was crawling along the ground at their feet. By the time Jusetsu realized what was happening, it was too late.

A curse!

Something wrapped around Jusetsu’s ankle. It felt like a cold, bony hand. She tried to move, but it wouldn’t budge. Instead, the fingers dug in tightly, making her groan in pain. Its grip was so strong it felt like her bones would break. Looking more closely, she saw traces of the ground dug up around her. Gardeners didn’t do things like that. She had been careless, distracted by the man’s strange appearance.

“What did you bury here?”

“You have to ask to know? It’s obvious. A curse is buried there.” The man’s tone changed. “I borrowed it from a corpse I came across on my way here.”

A corpse’s nails, hair, teeth, or something like that. Burying a cursed object and having the target step on it was a common tactic in sorcery.

“You are...”

The presence of a sinister curse crawled up Jusetsu’s spine. A chilling hatred. She remembered it now.

She hadn’t met the man before her, but she knew the presence of this curse.

The toad spell cast on Banka.

“You’re Hakurai.”

“You’re slow to catch on. I thought you’d recognize me just by meeting me.”

Hakurai slowly approached her. How could he move forward so confidently with a cloth covering his face? Were there small peepholes somewhere. The cloth was covered in embroidery, making it difficult to tell. Hakurai stopped just before Jusetsu, seeming to gaze intently at her.

“I really didn’t think the Raven Consort would be such a young girl.”

Hakurai clasped his fingers before his chest. The grip on Jusetsu’s ankle tightened, and she grimaced.

“What is it... What exactly do you want? You don’t even know me, yet you still hold a grudge against me?”

“I don’t hold a grudge, but I do think you should die.”

His words were spoken so casually and without any hint of pretense that Jusetsu was taken aback.

“Is that not to say you do hold a grudge?”

“I bear you no grudge. But the Raven Consort is an unneeded existence. What use is a weak Raven Consort? Why are you at the center of the nation and worshipped when you don’t even have enough strength? If you’re to stand above others, you must possess the most power.”

There was no sign of anger in Hakurai’s voice, and his tone was flat and bored. Jusetsu couldn’t fathom his intentions. He told her to die even though he bore no grudge, and despite casting a hateful curse on her, he didn’t express any emotion.

“...You want to hand me over to the Turtle God?”

Hakurai snorted. “That’s not important. That’s for later. I simply can’t stand the Raven Consort. Nor can I stand those who worship Wulian Niangniang. Don’t you think you’re deceiving the people? Making them worship a weakened god is far worse than the Eight Truths. Am I wrong?”

Jusetsu swallowed hard. She was unsure what to say. She knew that this was exactly what Hakurai wanted. As the leader who had grown the Eight Truths with his silver tongue, he would strike at her weak points to shut down any counterargument.

I have to stay focused.

Her ankle ached. It didn’t take much effort to shake off a petty curse like this, but she couldn’t predict what Hakurai would do next.

Is he planning to kill me right here? Or...

“So, why did you call me here?”

Hakurai was silent. Perhaps he was disappointed that Jusetsu hadn’t taken the bait. She understood a little now. Hakurai used his eloquence to lure his opponent into his territory. She couldn’t let him take the lead in the conversation.

“…As I said at the beginning, I’m here to talk.”

“Talk… So, you are asking for something?”

Surely this wasn’t just casual conversation. A “talk” in this case was an imposition of a demand. Or perhaps a threat.

“This is a warning. Stay quietly in Yamei Palace. If you value your life.”

“Is this a message from Saname Chouyou?”

Hakurai didn’t answer. She must have hit the nail on the head.

“Stay quietly in the palace? You’re the one who summoned me here just now. Don’t speak nonsense.” She deliberately made light of his words.

“What a horrid little brat you are. You should be cowering and begging for your life,” Hakurai said with displeasure. At last, a crack in his composure.

“Beg for my life?” Jusetsu laughed. “You’ll be the one doing that.”

She quickly reached into her pocket for Sumaru’s feather. As she pulled it out, it transformed into a brown sword. She thrust the sword into the ground.

A gurgling groan like mud being spat out rose from the ground, and the curse binding her ankle vanished. As Jusetsu pulled her sword from the earth, she stepped forward and swung it upward, aiming for Hakurai’s face.

Hakurai leapt back, landing on one knee. The cloth covering his face was sliced by the sword and fell to the ground. At last, his true face was revealed.

“If you wish to speak to me, why don’t you at least show your face first? How rude.”

One slanted eye glared at her. The other was covered by cloth. His features were sharply defined, but his lips were thin and bloodless. At first glance, his face radiated coldness.

“Is that eye like that because of that curse reversal the other day? How dare you call me weak after I defeated you? You insolent fool.”

As she spoke coldly, Hakurai’s eye grew even fiercer. Yes, this hatred. This hatred was what was contained in the curse.

“A little brat who could only barely reverse the curse.” His voice sent a chill deeper than the groans of corpses straight to the pit of her stomach.

“You should be ashamed that you only took away one of my eyes. Wulian Niangniang will only grow weaker from now on. Die and lose everything along with her.”

Jusetsu examined Hakurai’s face. Though his face had grown paler, his eye burned like an icy flame. She had seen that before. Perhaps all those who harbored hatred had eyes like him.

“...Do you hate Wulian Nianginiang?”

“I hate all of you,” Hakurai spat. “I want to burn and kill Wulian Niangniang, her followers, the Raven Consort, and all the people of this country.”

Jusetsu felt a twinge of unease at those words.

“Are you a foreigner?”

“No. I’m not from any country—I’m from the Ani tribe of the haiyenzi.”

“Haiyenzi...?”

When Jusetsu asked that question, Hakurai’s expression suddenly relaxed. His expression seemed to be a mixture of resignation and dejection.

“Do those who live inland not know? I see...Of course you wouldn’t. My tribe perished unnoticed. No different from a roadside stone or sea form.”

“Your entire tribe perished?”

“It wasn’t a punishment. There was no law—they were simply slaughtered. By you, the people of Shou.”

The intense hatred from earlier had been wiped away from Hakurai’s face and voice. Only a quiet anger and sorrow hung beneath the surface.

“The haiyenzi are a seafaring people. We have no permanent settlements and live on the sea. We fish, trade, practice sorcery and medicine, and sometimes sell information. We move from beach to beach, building huts offshore to interact with the people on the shore. They desire rare exotic goods, precious coral, pearls, green turban shells, and medicine. Medicine and sorcery go hand-in-hand with each other. They feared us, who practiced strange sorcery, but they coveted our medicines. Some even asked for curses—I specialized in them. Just like now,” Hakurai said. He glanced at her.

“Raven Consort, have you ever regretted something so bitterly it made you spit blood?”

Jusetsu stared back at him. “Yes,” she replied simply.

Hakurai turned toward the pond. Jusetsu could only see his profile—his left eye covered by a cloth.

“I often think about it. I shouldn’t have reversed that curse back then. I was twelve, I reversed the curse put on a young girl, and the one who cast it died. The one who died was the woman who became the girl’s father’s second wife. Her brothers flew into a rage. They incited the other villagers, lured my clan out to the beach, and attacked us...and that was the end of it.”

Hakurai smiled faintly, the corners of his mouth twisting.

“One shouldn’t help people with the shallow wisdom of a child. I felt sorry for the girl and reversed the curse, but if I hadn’t done that, only the girl would have died. The girl’s father was a fisherman, and their home had a magnificent shrine dedicated to Wulian Niangniang. The villagers’ homes also had Wulian Niangniang’s talismans pasted on their walls to pray for a good catch. On the beach at night, a bonfire was lit, and the dark shadows of the villagers attacking my tribe resembled sinister ravens. The flames and dancing shadows were seared into my eyes and never fade. In the light of the bonfire, a hatchet swung down again and again, a woman was being grabbed by her hair and dragged off, a baby was thrown into the fire, heads were being raised up, blood splattered...everything was a black shadow. I was watching a shadow puppet show. I watched alone from the sea as my entire tribe was hacked to pieces, raped, and burned alive. I was the only one left on a boat offshore. They invited me to a banquet to thank me for saving the girl, but I didn’t go. It wasn’t as if I had a premonition, but perhaps that’s what happened after all. Under cover of darkness, I escaped by rowing. Rowing with only the clothes on my back and barely any food, I finally reached a small island where, by sheer luck, I was taken in by a wubang.”

“A wubang...”

“They had a sorcerer. He was practically a swindler, nothing more than a street fortune teller, but he was useful because he taught me sorcery from the ground up. My magic is a mixture of my clan’s spells and sorcery. Sorcery originates with the Turtle God, but the Ani’s magic begins with the Star God, the god of navigation. The Star God is born from the sea, circles the sky, and returns to the sea. The first is Akaru, and the second is Kakari. The fins of the twin fish ebb and fill the tide, shake and cut the waves, let the moon sink into the Palace of Tranquility, and let the shadow sink into the Palace of Seclusion—”

While Hakurai was speaking, Jusetsu pulled out a flower from her hair and blew on it before he finished. The words, beginning with the phrase “The first is Akaru,” were a curse. She had no knowledge of Ani magic, but stringing together words that opposed each other was bound to be a curse incantation.

As she blew on it, the flower broke apart from the middle, scattering its petals which undulated like waves and attacked Hakurai. The petals turned into thin blades that sliced his cheeks and cut his hands. The curse was not completed. She realized that the wave of curse aimed at her had been broken up mid-way.

Hakurai took out a small bottle from his pocket and spilled its contents towards her. Just as it seemed that black liquid was going to splatter, it transformed into a snake. It had an unpleasant smell. It must have been a mixture of blood and something else. A venomous animal, perhaps? Jusetsu stepped back and chopped off the snake’s head with a flick of her feather sword. The snake disappeared in a black mist, and a fresh, crisp breeze blew though.

“You are no match for me,” Jusetsu told him, but he showed no particular emotion.

“It doesn’t matter if I don’t win. The Turtle God is here.”

As soon as he spoke, a column of water rose from the pond. Several more rose one after another, the spray splashing all the way to where they were standing.

Jusetsu wasn’t the only one looking up at the columns of water in shock. This wasn’t Hakurai’s doing.

Hakurai looked back to the other side of the pond. That was the side where the palace was located. A girl was standing on the terrace jutting out over the pond. She was about ten years old and wore a white silk ruqun. Her skin was deeply tanned, and her eyes, framed by thick eyelashes, shone like jewels. Her loose hair was being blown up by the wind caused by the water pillars. The spray that fell on her looked like pearl ornaments.

The girl’s eyes were fixed directly on Jusetsu.

“—Injou, stop!” Hakurai tried to stop her, sounding irritated, but the girl’s expression remained unchanged. Hakurai clicked his tongue. After he called out to her several times, she finally blinked. The water columns subsided.

That’s Injou.

“Such a young child?” Jusetsu frowned, but Hakurai snorted.

“I learned sorcery when I was five. You were brought to the inner palace around the same age, weren’t you?”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. Are you planning to sacrifice a child so young?”

Hakurai narrowed his eyes in confusion. “What?”

“I’m asking if you plan to sacrifice her to the Turtle God.”

“Sacrifice—”

“The Turtle God requires a sacrifice of a young girl. Don’t you know?”

Hakurai fell silent. Just as he was about to speak again, another voice and the sound of footsteps interrupted him noisily.

“Hey, what was that sound just now?”

Figures appeared in the corridor. They were two young men. The younger man at the front had loud footsteps and his clothes rustled noisily, while the older-looking man behind him was quiet. In the two men, especially the younger one, Jusetsu sensed the traces of a familiar girl. It was Banka.

Are those the brothers Banka was talking about?

“I knew it, it’s you. What are you doing?”

The young man at the front seemed to dislike Hakurai, as he charged at him with a stern expression. His navy blue robes suited him well. The man at the back pursed his lips, but his furrowed brows made it clear that he also disliked Hakurai. He had an elegant demeanor and his dark brown robes, the kind worn by the elderly, somehow looked good on him, but there was something a little haughty about his gaze. Perhaps it could be described as noble.

“What is Father thinking...huh?”

Hakurai turned his eyes to Jusetsu, and following his gaze, the young man suddenly stopped talking. It seemed that he finally saw her.

“W-Who are you?” He was taken aback by the sight of a woman dressed in black and holding a brown sword in one hand.

What a bother.

Jusetsu dropped the sword and spun around. The sword returned to its feather form as it left her hand.

“Hey, wait!”

She ignored the voice and ran past. She didn’t enter the corridor where the two men were and ran alongside it instead. Glancing at them, she caught the older one’s eye and saw him gape at her blankly.

With no sign of pursuit, Jusetsu passed through the gate. It seemed they had no intention of chasing her. She stopped to catch her breath. She looked up at Samon Palace and gazed at the roof tiles for a moment, then quickly left.

“That girl couldn’t have been one of our servants. A palace lady? No, it couldn’t be...”

Ryou muttered to himself as he looked in the direction the girl in black had run off. Then he turned back to the pond and let out a cry. Hakurai had disappeared. “That bastard,” he cursed, but as Hakurai was a guest invited by his father, he couldn’t go any further than that. Shin silently descended the steps of the corridor.

Both Shin and Ryou had guessed that the foreign-looking man with his face hidden who had suddenly appeared a while ago was Hakurai, but they pretended not to know out of respect for their father. To be honest, they didn’t understand what he was thinking. What was he planning to achieve by inviting a man like that? They sensed nothing but danger.

Shin stood by the pond and bent down. There was a bird feather lying there. It had been dropped by the girl in black earlier. It was brown with white spots. What kind of bird did it belong to?

She must be a consort.

The girl had been wearing garments adorned with gold and silver threads, and wore numerous hairpins and ornaments. Judging by her attire, she wasn’t a palace lady.

But even so, it was strange. Why she facing Hakurai without even a single lady-in-waiting around her. Dressed in jet black, her crimson lips shining against her pale skin reminded Shin of camellia flowers blooming majestically in the snow. And above all, those eyes. Their intense gaze, black like damp obsidian, pierced through him. They made him feel as though he was peering into the depths of the night, almost to the point of forgetting to breathe.

Even though she was standing in the pale sunlight, she alone seemed shrouded in darkness. Yet, she shone with a lustrous glow, like dewdrops at night or roof tiles shining in moonlight. In that moment, all the surrounding sounds and colors faded away, and only she remained.

If someone called her a female immortal or a demon, I would believe it... I’ve never seen a woman like that before.

After picking up the feather and gazing at it for a long time, Shin tucked it away in his breast pocket.

The day after Jusetsu’s visit to Samon Palace, Kajou came to Yamei Palace. Jusetsu assumed she had brought another book, but it turned out she wanted to discuss something with her.

“I truly don’t know what to do. I was hoping to get some advice from you, A-mei,” Kajou sighed, her usually bright and clear face clouded with worry.

“What is the matter?”

“Do you know of the ‘Sable-Clad Niangniang’?”

Jusetsu’s eyes widened. “Ah.” Of course she knew—that was Jusetsu herself, after all. Kajou had assumed she didn’t know, but that apparently wasn’t the case. Kajou smiled wryly.

“I believe that she is something separate from you. They’ve elevated the Raven Consort to something more mystical and sacred than necessary, using her as an outlet for their suffering and prayers. One wrong step and it could become something very dangerous.”

Kajou, who learned the horrors of worship from her experience with the Moon Truth Sect, looked even more melancholic.

 “Among those who devote themselves to the ‘Sable-Clad Niangniang,’ there are some who have never actually met you. Their idol has taken on a life of its own, becoming like a god...and even worse, some use it to commit fraud.”

“You refer to the counterfeit talismans?”

“Yes. You knew about that too?”

“We have our eye on the person selling them and the mastermind behind them.”

The one making the fake talismans was Hakurai. Tan Kai managed to get hold of one of the talismans that was in circulation. The handwriting was the same as a talisman written by Hakurai that he had seen before.

Hakurai’s accomplice was at Hakkaku Palace. According to Jiujiu, the lady-in-waiting who asked Jusetsu to go to Samon Palace was probably from Hakkaku Palace, but her identity remained unclear.

According to Tan Kai’s investigation, the source of the fake talismans was also Hakkaku Palace. It would have been easy to trace it if they had questioned someone who had one, but apparently it was difficult because no one would divulge. It seemed that they had been told to keep it a secret. The person had told them that they had specially asked the Raven Consort to write it for them, so if the source were to be revealed, she would be in trouble, or something like that. They didn’t believe Tan Kai when he told them that the talismans were fake. Still, he somehow managed to extract the information—he wouldn’t give any details about that “somehow”—and discovered that the talismans had been purchased from a eunuch at Hakkaku Palace. The identity of that eunuch was currently under investigation.

Onkei’s investigation into the instigator of this commotion had also led him to Hakkaku Palace. All the palace ladies and eunuchs had their own connections with the other palaces, and Onkei had painstakingly traced all of those relationships.

“My eunuch looked into this,” Jusetsu said and spread the paper out on the table. “I never knew this, but palace ladies and eunuchs do have connections among themselves.”

The paper listed the names of palace ladies and eunuchs of each palace, with lines drawn between those who shared friendships. Looking at them, it became clear that there were connections within the inner palace that were separate from those of the palace itself.

“First, there are connections based on background, such as coming from merchant families or being the daughters of wealthy farmers. Then there’s birthplace. Most are from the capital, but even among them, connections are divided based on whether they’re from the east or west, or the proximity of their homes from the palace. The daughters of officials tend to keep to their own circles and not socialize much with the other girls. Eunuchs come from all walks of life, so the ties between those from the same hometown are stronger. For instance...” Jusetsu pointed to the name of a certain eunuch from Hakkaku Palace. “This person is from Yoku Province, but there is also a eunuch from Yoku Province at Hien Palace. So, despite being from different palaces, the two of them are friends. Additionally, each has close colleagues in their own palaces. Therefore, there are indirect connections there. And so, the belief in the ‘Sable-Clad Niangniang’ spread from the eunuchs at Hakkaku Palace.”

That was how the “Sable-Clad Niangniang” spread so rapidly.

“It must have been...a lot of work to research all of this,” Kajou exclaimed in admiration at the diagram. “He’s an excellent eunuch.”

“Yes.” Jusetsu felt a mix of pride and a tingling sensation. She had never felt this way even when she herself was praised.

“Looking at this diagram, it seems that Hakkaku Palace is the center of it all.”

“It may have all started when I helped Banka...the Crane Consort.”

No, if they were talking about the origin, then it must be even earlier. After leaving Yamei Palace, she began taking on requests from many people... Perhaps it all started with Koushun’s request.

“And who is the mastermind?”

“That would be—”

One of the ladies-in-waiting must be leading the charge at Hakkaku Palace. The one pulling the strings behind the scenes was Hakurai. And behind him, there was Chouyou. It had become clear that the two men were connected. Revealing this was probably deemed the best course of action. To intimidate her.

Stay quietly in Yamei Palace. If you value your life.

That was the threat. If this commotion got any bigger and a riot broke out, it would be just like the Moon Truth Sect. Jusetsu would have to face punishment.

Hakurai hated Uren Niangniang. But what about Chouyou?

Was Jusetsu—or perhaps the Raven Consort—in his way? As the father of the Crane Consort?

“...”

“A-mei?” Kajou called out to her, and Jusetsu snapped back to reality.

“Ah…We’re looking into the ladies-of-waiting of Hakkaku Palace. It should be one of them.”

“I see. In any case, it’s Hakkaku Palace, so I would have to ask the Crane Consort to settle this matter,” Kajou sighed gloomily.

“You have to worry about things like that as well, I see.”

“I can’t allow His Majesty to trouble himself with this matter.”

Matters within the inner palace were generally handled by the highest-ranking consort. Despite the issue of the fake talismans, it wasn’t yet an incident that warranted the involvement of the Bridles. It was merely an obscure religious turmoil. Kajou, as the mistress of the inner palace, had a duty to put an end to it before it became a major commotion.

“I’ll talk to the Crane Consort. She may be young, but she has a great understanding of the ways of the world. She does not often show it outwardly, though.”

“That’s true…”

When Jusetsu first met Banka, she seemed elusive and detached. But in reality, she was a girl who was deeply thoughtful, introspective, considerate of others, and well-versed in things like social standing and appearances. She was no ignorant little girl.

Banka might know something about the situation.

But she most likely wasn’t one with Chouyou. She detested Hakurai from the bottom of her heart. Even in the throes of her cursed suffering, she muttered that in her delirium. There was no pretense in that.

Little by little, Jusetsu felt as though the shapes of Banka, Hakurai, and Chouyou were beginning to appear.

“A-mei, I’m so glad I asked you for advice. Thank you very much.”

The gloominess of Kajou’s face was now somewhat lifted, and she smiled brightly as she left.

That evening, Koushun paid a visit.

“Is it true that you went to Samon Palace?” he spoke in a somewhat pressing tone upon arriving, taking Jusetsu by surprise.

“I did...it was yesterday.”

“Why did you go off on your own? No, first of all, are you all right? I haven’t received any reports that you aren’t.”

He seemed flustered. His appearance remained calm and expressionless, but his words were uncharacteristically incoherent.

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say. Calm down. Have some tea.”

Jusetsu never thought the time would come when she would have to tell Koushun to calm down. He obediently drank his tea as he was told.

“...Apologies. I was just worried.”

“I see.” His frank words left Jusetsu unsure of how to respond.

“I should have warned you. Be careful of Saname Chouyou. I never thought he’d summon you to Samon Palace.”

Be careful of Father.

“I’ve received the warning from another source. Do not worry."

“Another source?”

“It’s Banka.”

“...The Crane Consort...?”

“I have been meaning to tell you this. While Chouyou and Hakurai are connected, I don’t know to what extent Banka is involved. She hates Hakurai, and her feelings towards her father are a mix of respect and fear.”

Jusetsu disliked Chouyou. Though she had never met him, a father who forced his daughter to make such a cruel choice couldn’t be a decent man, no matter how much Banka might love him.

“...Chouyou knows your secret. He most likely knows the secret of the Raven Consort as well.”

Jusetsu frowned at the quiet words.

“I don’t know how it got out, but they view you as an enemy. I should have told you sooner to be careful. They didn’t seem about to harm you immediately, though.”

“No harm was done. As it turned out. It was a retaliation.”

“A retaliation, huh,” Koushun smiled softly. Jusetsu felt a little relieved. It was better than him worrying about her.

“I was only threatened. I was told to stay quiet and confine myself through Hakurai. I have no intention of meeting Chouyou.” Then, she remembered. “Oh, I also ran into people who seemed to be Banka’s brothers.”

“Chouyou’s eldest and third sons are here with him. They must be them.”

“What about the second son?”

“I’m told that he was left behind in Ga Province. It seems that Chouyou trusts his second son the most.”

“That must be complicated for the eldest son.”

“Well, I suppose the eldest son will become head... But putting aside the Saname family’s circumstances, did those people say or do anything to you?”

“No, not at all. We only had a brief exchange. They didn’t seem to know who I was, and they certainly despised Hakurai.”

“That’s good.”

“From the looks of it, Chouyou hadn’t involved his sons in this. He’s working alone with Hakurai to stir up trouble.”

“Hmm...” Koushun folded his arms and pondered. “I see, he’s working alone...”

“It sometimes gets on my nerves when you brood alone,” she muttered. Koushun suddenly looked up.

“What?”

“—I won’t say it twice.”

“Yes, I heard you. Is that what you think? I personally don’t think everything should be thought out loud.”

“I didn’t say you should say anything. It depends on the situation.”

“...Should I say it now?”

Jusetsu nodded.

“Very well. I was thinking about the characteristics of the Saname clan. In that clan, the head’s opinion is absolute. I think I’ve said this before, but it’s customary for them to respect their elders. Conversely, this means the head of the clan bears a great deal of responsibility. He must not make any mistakes and must not betray the trust of his clan. He will never consult with those below him. I’m sure Chouyou’s father was the same. That’s why he doesn’t tell his sons anything. He makes decisions on his own. That must be it.”

“I see...”

“He acts for Saname. He’d probably betray me too if he thought something wasn’t in the best interest of the clan. For now, he says he’ll serve me for the peace of the clan.”

“Serve you?”

“In other words, it could mean eliminating you.”

Is that so?

It all made sense now.

“So, I’m supposed to keep quiet, huh.”

“That man’s behavior is unpredictable, like this time. It’s best not to draw too much attention.”

“Are you telling me to keep quiet too?” Jusetsu was a little annoyed.

“That’s not what I mean. I think it would be best to avoid doing anything that would catch Chouyou’s eye.”

“Why must I go to such lengths to please Chouyou?” Jusetsu turned away. She understood what Koushun was saying. She truly did, but it made her angry. She understood the logic, but her emotions wouldn’t settle. No matter how much logic there was, emotions would easily twist it.

“...I’m worried about you.” Koushun’s voice was a mixture of irritation and bafflement. It was unclear whether he was baffled by Jusetsu’s words or his own irritation.

Jusetsu returned her gaze to Koushun. Seeing his expression, she knew it was the latter. He didn’t look angry at her. He looked troubled, at a loss. It wasn’t because of her, but rather at a loss as to what to do with his own feelings. She understood that very well—because she was the same. She didn’t understand why she was so overwhelmed by her emotions. No one other than Koushun would ever make her feel this mixture of frustration and confusion.

“...I understand. It’s my duty to keep quiet, after all.”

“No, I—” Koushun started to speak, but stopped himself. “...I will keep a close eye on the movements of Samon Palace. They will be leaving the capital in about two weeks. Once Chouyou returns to Ga Province, he won’t be able to take such forceful measures.”

With that, Koushun left Yamei Palace in more of a hurry than usual. Jusetsu had forgotten to tell him about the “Sable-Clad Niangniang,” but the report had likely already been received by now. And, she felt awkward about telling him about it without Kajou’s permission. I’ll talk to him if anything comes up, she decided.

Jusetsu would soon realize that this was a mistake.

Accompanied by ladies-in-waiting and eunuchs, Kajou headed for Hakkaku Palace. A hedge of oaks and junipers encircled the palace like a protective barrier. Tiny berries hung among the needle-like leaves. Beyond it, the palace gleamed as though its lapis-lazuli tiles were damp. The decorative tiles depicted cranes spreading their wings, and beneath them, the openwork lanterns also bore crane patterns. The earthen walls encircling the palace were lacquered with mica, giving them a shimmering white glow. As they passed through the gate, a line of palace ladies and eunuchs greeted Kajou with bows. Meanwhile, the Crane Consort was waiting, accompanied by her ladies. The young face of the Crane Consort, kneeling in reverence, appeared slightly pale. Perhaps to conceal it, her cheeks and lips were heavily painted with vermillion, yet this only served to make her poor complexion stand out all the more.

Kajou was led into the spacious main hall. The open door offered a clear view of the garden. It was a garden of gardenias that Koushun had ordered replanted. The plump, oval fruits were beginning to turn a faint crimson. As Kajou gazed at the swelling fruits, she was overcome with the realization that she would never give birth to a child and felt a chilly wind blow through her chest. It wasn’t unhappiness or despair, just the quiet autumn breeze seeping into her body.

A lady-in-waiting brought tea. The fragrant aroma wafted through the air, indicating that Kajou had been served the same top-quality tea as the emperor. The lady-in-waiting’s movements and manners were refined and polite, and there was nothing to complain about. However, she had a black decorative cord hanging from her waist. Kajou glanced at it, then observed the other ladies standing at the edge of the room. Each one had a black cord hanging from their sashes. Some even wore fish-shaped ornaments like Jusetsu’s. The sash of the Crane Consort, Banka, before her only had silver ornaments hanging from it, no black cord. She wore a deep green robe woven with a pattern of birds facing each other, and a striped skirt of blue-green and dark purple. Both garments were likely made from Saname silk. Their soft, lustrous sheen was beautiful.

Banka remained silent. It was customary for the higher-ranking consort to speak first.

“This tea is delicious. Is it from Bu Province?” Kajou played it safe.

“Yes, Elder Sister,” Banka replied simply. “Elder Sister” was a title used for a higher-ranking consort. Banka herself was drinking hot water because she wasn’t feeling well.

“You’ve lost weight, haven’t you?”

“Yes, a little... Perhaps it’s because I’m a bit tired from the summer, so I don’t have much of an appetite.”

Banka cupped the bowl of hot water in her hands peered into it. What was reflected there? Despite her slim figure, her face and fingers were swollen and puffy.

“Are you friends with the Raven Consort? You’re close in age, aren’t you?”

At the sudden question, Banka looked up, confused. With that expression, she looked younger than her years.

“Um... no, we aren’t close.”

“You two should get along well. She’s a very kind girl.”

“...I know.”

“I see. In that case, we must make sure not to cause any trouble for the Raven Consort.”

Banka gazed intently at her face. “Has something happened to her?”

“I’m talking about making sure nothing happens.”

Banka’s eyes shook with confusion, but she seemed to understand what Kajou was trying to say.

“What are you asking of me?”

“You are the supervisor of the people at Hakkaku Palace. Please keep a close eye on them so they don’t slip out of line. That is the role of the consort in charge of a palace.”

Banka listened intently to her words. She nodded slightly. “I understand. –I see, I’ve been aware of the situation at this palace, but since I rarely go out, I didn’t know about the other palaces. Has it spread there?”

“It’s spreading within the inner palace.”

Banka remained silent. Kajou couldn’t tell if she was truly unaware, or whether she knew but ignored it.

“My deepest apologies. I shall have a talk with everyone here.”

“I’m glad you understand. Thank you for your help.”

It was a roundabout exchange, but as long as Kajou got through to Banka, that was fine. Kajou rose to her feet.

“Please wait, Duck Consort.”

It wasn’t Banka who called out, but one of the ladies-in-waiting in the corner of the room. She was probably around twenty years old. She was a young lady-in-waiting of modest bearing who had skin as pale and smooth as an egg and a face shaped like one, as well as refined features.

The girl stepped forward and spoke pleadingly. “Duck Consort, have you come to reproach us for our reverence of the ‘Sable-Clad Niangniang’?” A black decorative cord hung from her sash. “Even if you are the Duck Consort, is it not going too far to reproach us for the thoughts within our hearts? Surely we are free to believe and worship as we choose.”

The girl’s crystal-clear eyes and single-minded determination made Kajou flinch and take a step back.

She was horrified. She hadn’t imagined that the situation had progressed this far.

“How rude. Step aside,” Kajou’s lady-in-waiting stepped forward, eyes narrowed. “Do you still not understand despite how perfectly reasonable the Duck Consort has explained it? You are disrupting the inner palace. What kind of freedom allows you to scatter fake talismans?”

“The false talismans are just a misunderstanding. Are you trying to suppress our faith with such a lie?”

“What a foolish—”

“Foolish?” an older lady-in-waiting chimed in. “That’s no different from mocking the Sable-Clad As Niangniang. The rude one here is you.”

“That’s right, you’re terrible,” the other lady chimed in. Her voice gradually rose, and the other ladies became more and more agitated. Kajou’s lady-in-waiting, also sensing that something strange was happening, stepped back.

This is...

This was bad. Kajou looked towards Banka. She had also stood up and was gazing blankly at her ladies. Even she could no longer control them.

Kajou stepped back, but then was startled by a shadow behind her. Turning around, she saw palace ladies and eunuchs peering into the room from the outer corridor. They all had black decorative cords hanging from their waists.

“L-Lady Kajou.”

Behind them, the eunuchs that Kajou had brought with her looked bewildered. The ladies-in-waiting, their faces twisted, gathered around Kajou.

“Duck Consort, please take back what you just said.”

The Crane Consort’s ladies slowly approached her.

Kajou’s heart began to race.

As Jusetsu was teaching Ishiha how to read and write at Yamei Palace, someone rushed into the palace in a panic.

“R-Raven Consort!”

It was Ki Senjo, a lady-in-waiting of Hakkaku Palace. Onkei and Tan Kai were accompanying her. Sensing something strange, Jusetsu stood up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Niangniang, it seems something’s wrong at Hakkaku Palace,” Onkei said. “Something seems to have happened to the Duck Consort, but this person’s words are unclear.”

“To Kajou? –Ki Senjo, what happened?”

“Haa…” Senjo was panting heavily. Jiujiu gave her some water to drink. Jusetsu recalled that something like this had happened before. That time, it was Banka.

“It is not Banka, but Kajou who is in danger? Is Kajou at Hakkaku Palace?” Jusetsu asked, and Senjo nodded. Kajou and Hakkaku Palace—could it be? She thought. “Kajou went to Hakkaku Palace to talk to Banka about the matter of the ‘Sable-Clad Niangniang,’ yes?”

“Yes… and then the ladies-in-waiting of Hakkaku Palace started to get angry,” Senjo said while wiping the sweat from her brow.

“They started to get angry…at the Duck Consort?”

“Yes. It was strange. I got scared too, so I quickly snuck out and came here. I was worried something might happen to the Duck Consort… I’m sure only you can help her, Raven Consort.”

“Isn’t Banka there?”

Senjo shook her head sadly. “No one listens to Lady Banka anymore, not even Lady Kitsu Rokujo.”

Kitsu Rokujo was a veteran lady-in-waiting. Once a devout follower of the Eight Truths, she was the one who was most distraught when Banka succumbed to the curse. She was also the one who thanked Jusetsu the most profusely for saving Banka.

“…I understand. I’ll go. Let’s hurry.”

Leaving a worried Jiujiu and Ishiha behind, Jusetsu left Yamei Palace with Onkei and Tan Kai.

When Jusetsu arrived at Hakkaku Palace, she found eunuchs scuffling outside. They seemed to be eunuchs from Hakkaku Palace and Enou Palace, respectively. Leaving them alone for the time being as they grappled and argued, Jusetsu headed up the stairs. She quickly rushed inside when she heard the sound of shattering vessels.

A table had been knocked over, and tea utensils were scattered everywhere. Nearby, ladies-in-waiting were tugging at each other’s hair and clothes. Their buns were disheveled, and even their dresses were torn. They didn’t even notice Jusetsu’s arrival.

Hearing a sob from below, Jusetsu looked down. Kajou had collapsed on the floor near the door, and a lady-in-waiting was crying beside her.

“Kajou!” Jusetsu hastily knelt down beside her.

“A-mei?” Kajou raised her head. Jusetsu helped her up.

“Are you injured?”

“No, I just accidentally fell. It’s nothing…” Kajou said, but she grimaced as she moved her foot. Perhaps she had sprained it.

“Lady Kajou tripped while trying to leave,” the young lady-in-waiting sobbed. “Those ladies were advancing on us in such a terrifying manner—”

“I misspoke. I handled it wrong. I never expected the situation to get this bad.”

“Lady Kajou, that isn’t—”

“We can save that for later. Anyway, let’s get out of here. Tan Kai,” Jusetsu called, turning around. The two eunuchs were standing behind her. “Take Kajou to Enou Palace.”

“Yes. Duck Consort, please excuse me.” Tan Kai effortlessly picked up Kajou and left the room. After watching them go, Jusetsu continued inside.

“Cease this, everyone!” she called out, but her voice was drowned out by the shrill cries of the ladies-in-waiting and the sounds of them fighting. This was getting nowhere. There were only about ten people fighting. Deciding to deal with the ones nearby first, Jusetsu began prying apart the two ladies wrestling nearby. She called for Onkei, and they each restrained a lady.

“Ah, Raven Consort...”

Seemingly coming to their senses after being separated, the two ladies looked at Jusetsu in shock and bowed. Just as she thought the situation would be resolved if they continued at this rate, a particularly loud, shrill scream rang out. It was a cry of something that sound like, “Let go!" When she turned in that direction, a shadow appeared.

There was a dull thud. It was an unpleasant sound, like something hard had hit something. Jusetsu wasn’t the one hit—someone was crouching next to her. Drops of blood fell to the floor.

A vessel thrown by one of the fighting ladies was sent flying towards Jusetsu. Onkei had instantly let go of the lady he had been restraining and rushed to Jusetsu’s side, but someone else was able to shield her before him.

“—Attendant Ei!” Onkei let out a stunned cry. He sounded like he couldn’t believe his eyes. Ei Sei was on his knees, clutching his forehead. Jusetsu couldn’t move, unable to comprehend the situation.

Did he protect me?

Ei Sei did? Why?

“Everyone, remain where you are.”

A quiet yet solemn and resonant voice sounded. Koushun was standing at the door. The ladies-in-waiting, their faces frozen in shock, scrambled about in panic and prostrated themselves on the floor. With just a few words, the commotion ceased.

Koushun walked over slowly and stopped next to Ei Sei. He took out a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to him. There was a brief exchange where Ei Sei assured him that the wound wasn’t deep. Ei Sei pressed the handkerchief to his forehead and stood up. He didn’t give Jusetsu a single glance.

Koushun looked around the room. It was a terrible sight. The furniture was damaged and broken, and the ladies-in-waiting were in a sorry state.

“Crane Consort,” Koushun called out to Banka. Come to think of it, Jusetsu hadn’t seen her anywhere. She searched the room again. Suddenly, a girl who had been cowering in the corner of the room rose slowly. It was Banka, her face pale and head downcast. “Are you injured?”

“...No, Your Majesty.”

“Do you have an explanation for this?”

Banka looked up listlessly and weakly shook her head. “No, Your Majesty. It was my own fault.”

“Wait—” Jusetsu tried to interrupt, but Koushun turned around and stopped her with a look.

“I heard the story from the Duck Consort’s eunuch. It’s fortunate that she wasn’t seriously injured.”

Koushun quietly looked around at the ladies-in-waiting in the room. In that stillness, they sensed a chilling fury that made them shrink inwardly. The atmosphere around him was as cold and taut as winter, stinging their skin and weighing heavily upon them. Jusetsu remembered that he was also a warrior, having led the imperial army to subjugate the empress dowager’s faction. The ladies-in-waiting were trembling, unable to even lift their heads.

“All of you, lift your heads and looked around.”

The ladies timidly raised their heads and looked around. Groans could be heard as they saw the horrible state of the room and their own appearances.

“Be ashamed of your actions.”

Koushun’s words were brief. The ladies hung their heads.

“I will announce your punishments later,” Koushun said, then turned on his heel. He glanced at Jusetsu. A dark, troubled look flashed across his face, then vanished.

“Raven Consort, you too must bear the blame,” he spoke softly in a sighing tone. “As with the others, I will inform you of your punishment later.”

With this, Koushun left the palace. Ei Sei followed him like a shadow. Jusetsu simply stared blankly at his figure. It was a stark difference from the mood she usually had when seeing him off at Yamei Palace.

From then on, wearing black accessories or clothing was forbidden in the inner palace. The sole exception to the rule was the Raven Consort.

A few days later, Ei Sei visited Yamei Palace alone at night. Jusetsu was the only one in the room. Ei Sei’s forehead was wrapped in a white, bleached cloth. Even in the dark, it looked painful.

“...How fares your injury?” Jusetsu asked.

“It wasn’t serious. I was merely saved you on Dajia’s orders, so there is no need to worry about it,” he replied coldly. Was it true, or was he saying that out of consideration for Jusetsu? No, that wouldn’t be like him, she thought. “I’ve come to deliver a message from Dajia.”

Ei Sei’s voice was colder than the night air.

“A message—”

“It has been decreed that, for the time being, you are forbidden to leave Yamei Palace without permission.”

Jusetsu swallowed her words. He had come to announce her punishment.

“Of course, as the Raven Consort, you are outside the laws of the inner palace and therefore have no obligation to obey the orders of Dajia. However—”

“I understand. This incident was a seed I sowed. I should have dealt with it sooner, and I should have informed Koushun as well. No, I had overstepped my bounds as the Raven Consort from the very beginning.”

She got carried away by the pleasure of being relied upon. She was drowning in the joy of being needed, justifying it as not wanting to leave someone in need, even though she was aware of the danger.

“...This is something I’ve been fearing for a long time,” Ei Sei’s voice resounded in her ears. Rather than cold, he sounded depressed. Jusetsu raised her head.

“Please try not to draw attention to yourself. It’s for your own good.”

Ei Sei turned away from Jusetsu and left the room as quietly as he had arrived. She didn’t go outside to see him off.

Koushun most likely won’t come here again, like he had before, she thought.

While the sun was still high in the sky, Koushun visited Kajou. A few days had passed since the turmoil, and things had already calmed down in the inner palace.

When he visited Enou Palace, he found her reclining on a sedan.

“Oh my, Your Majesty.”

Koushun stopped Kajou from getting up. “Stay as you are. How’s your foot?”

“It doesn’t hurt anymore. Everyone’s worried about me, so I’m just lying here, but I am quite bored.” Kajou slowly raised herself up with the help of her lady-in-waiting and faced Koushun. “I made a poor move this time. I had hoped to prevent such a disturbance, but instead became the very catalyst. I am utterly ashamed of myself. I should have instructed my ladies to remain calm beforehand.”

“You’ve been taken advantage of. The culprit was waiting for an opportunity. She took advantage of one of the ladies protesting to you and instigated everything.”

“By culprit...”

“There was an older lady-in-waiting there, right? A veteran. Her name was Kitsu Rokujo.”

“Ah,” Kajou said, looking into space as if recalling. “I do remember that it was a younger woman who first raised her voice, but then an older lady accused me of mocking the Sable-Clad Niangniang, and the other ladies joined in.”

“Kitsu Rokujo was the head lady-in-waiting, and among them, her words seemed to carry more weight than even those of the young Crane Consort. While Kitsu Rokujo could have calmed them down, she instead incited them and made the commotion worse.”

“That person is now...”

“Before the Bridles’ investigation led to her, she committed suicide by drinking poison. She wrote a letter saying that all the blame was hers.”

Kajou frowned in sorrow. “So, was she also responsible for the fake talismans?”

“That’s what she wrote. However, the reason given was that she wanted to increase the number of believers of the Sable-Clad Niangniang, and had no intention of enriching or causing chaos. She copied a talisman that one of the ladies-in-waiting had and ordered the eunuchs to sell them to those in the inner palace.”

But, according to Jusetsu’s reponse to the Bridles’ investigation, the handwriting on the fake talismans belonged to Hakurai, which she had seen before. The fake talismans originated from him. Kitsu Rokujo received them and spread them throughout the inner palace. It was also she who had a lady-in-waiting send a messenger to summon Jusetsu to Samon Palace.

In both cases, it was clear that Chouyou was at the center of it all. But, Kitsu Rokujo took all the blame for herself and died. Now that she was dead, it was difficult to trace her connection to Chouyou.

It was obvious that if a commotion broke out, someone would inevitably be punished as the mastermind, so this was probably planned in advance. The skill with which the poison and letter were prepared spoke for itself.

“How is the Raven Consort doing?”

“She is quietly staying in Yamei Palace.”

“Oh dear...” Kajou looked sympathetic. “It’s not her fault.”

She was right. And Jusetsu didn’t need to listen to Koushun’s orders. Yet, she claimed that “this incident was a seed I sowed” and shut herself in Yamei Palace.

What should I have done?

Even though it was Kitsu Rokujo who was the instigator, that alone wouldn’t have caused such a commotion. The existence of the Raven Consort was the root cause. What exacerbated it was Jusetsu’s inability to turn away those who approached the Raven Consort with requests.

Chouyou’s remonstrance pierced his heart. Even without his intervention, something like this would have happened sooner or later. He was simply demonstrating that fact. The entire incident was Chouyou’s warning.

This was the end of it this time, but what if Jusetsu’s status as the Raven Consort and an orphan of the previous dynasty were exploited? If he didn’t take action now, something even more serious could occur—this was the fear Chouyou was implicitly conveying.

“How is the Crane Consort? How is she feeling?”

“I don’t believe she was injured.”

“Isn’t she feeling unwell?”

“Yes... that has been the case for a while. She still isn’t feeling well. It’s probably because of the loss of Kitsu Rokujo.”

“What will happen to the people of Hakkaku Palace?”

“I haven’t decided yet. Because Kitsu Rokujo died as a result of her actions, we are discussing what to do with the ladies-in-waiting and the Crane Consort.”

“It may be best to wait a little longer before deciding on the punishment.”

“Why?”

“Because you may have to issue a pardon.”

Koushun was puzzled, but Kajou merely smiled faintly.

Indeed, just as she had predicted, the ladies-in-waiting would be pardoned on the grounds of a certain auspicious occasion.

Banka stood on the terrace of Samon Palace, gazing out at the pond. The sunlight glinted dazzlingly on the still water.

“Has Hakurai fled yet?” Her father, Chouyou, asked. He was sitting in a chair behind her, sipping tea.

“...There was no man named Hakurai here to begin with. A fortune teller from Uka named Gyoukukan stayed here for a while, though.” Banka clasped her hands and turned to her father. “Kitsu Rokujo is dead. Please at least return her body to Ga Province. She had children.”

“A criminal can’t be brought back to their home. In accordance with the rules of the inner palace, she will be buried here.”

“Wasn’t it you who made her a criminal, Father?”

Chouyou’s expression didn’t change in the slightest. “...Kitsu Rokujo understood. Don’t you realize that your outburst now tramples upon her resolution?”

“I do not understand. It wasn’t a crime worthy of death. She had to die to protect you, didn’t she?”

“Not for me. It was for Saname.”

Something inside Banka broke.

“Every time you open your mouth, it’s for Saname, for Saname. Is there nothing more important to you than that, Father?”

For the first time, Chouyou looked at Banka with a puzzled frown. “I’m the head of the Saname clan. That goes without saying.”

“You’re going to let someone from Saname die for Saname’s sake? That’s ridiculous.”

The furrow between Chouyou’s brows deepened. He was clearly displeased.

“Sometimes, one person must die for the sake of the family. That’s how the Saname clan has endured all these years.”

“That’s right. The Saname clan has always been like that from the very beginning. We never hesitated to sacrifice our youngest daughter for the sake of the clan.”

Chouyou’s face grew grim. It was the first time she had seen such an expression on her father’s face. Banka had never seen her father’s emotions before.

“Of course we wouldn’t have hesitated. That’s why—”

“And so, we learned to sacrifice other women in our place. Is it for the sake of the clan?”

“I let you choose.” Chouyou’s voice was cold and low. “If you didn’t approve of sacrificing another man’s daughter, you should have chosen death back then.”

Banka gasped. Her lips trembled. This man.

“I curse from the bottom of my heart that I was born a daughter of Saname.” Her eyes welled up. She couldn’t stop her voice from shaking. “I will never listen to anything you say again, Father. This will be the last time we see each other.”

Chouyou spoke a name. It was Banka’s real name, known only to the two of them.

“You are a Saname. There’s no escaping that. Not for you or me.”

“No, I’ve had enough. I don’t want to be a Saname—”

“...” Chouyou muttered something, but Banka couldn’t hear it.

“What did you say, Father?”

“So you’re different too, after all.”

His voice was dark and shadowed, as if echoing from somewhere far away.

“What?”

“No one knows. No one understands. My sins.”

Banka suddenly couldn’t make out her father’s face, as though it were lit from the back. She could see him, but also couldn’t—no, he seemed like a complete stranger.

She wondered again how much she really knew about her father. Perhaps she knew nothing. What path had he walked up until now? What had he given up, what had he let go?

“Father—”

Suddenly, Banka felt dizzy. Her feet grew cold and the blood drained from her body. She felt sick. Oh no, she thought, trying to put strength into her legs, but her body shook.

She collapsed to the ground.

She quickly curled herself up, but then lost consciousness as if sucked into the darkness.

Banka woke up to someone calling her name.

“Xiaomei, ah, you’re awake.” (1)

“Idiot...the doctor told you to let her sleep, didn’t he?”

She could hear her brothers’ voices. Turning her head, she saw Shin and Ryou beside her. Banka was lying on a bed in an unfamiliar room.

“This is Samon Palace. Do you remember? You fainted.” Her eldest brother, Shin, spoke. His brows furrowed, a serious expression on his face. This was how he always looked.

“I do... Sorry, I just suddenly felt sick.”

Ryou glanced at Shin as if he wanted to say something. Shin completely ignored him.

“Hey, don’t tell me you haven’t even realized it yet?”

“Stop it. Save it for later,” Shin scolded him, but this time Ryou ignored him.

“After we had a doctor examine you—”

“You learned that I was pregnant?” Banka beat him to the chase.

“Oh,” Ryou replied, looking half let-down and half relieved. “You knew?

“I wasn’t sure...I haven’t had a doctor examine me yet. I had a feeling that was the case.”

“Father said there hadn’t been any news,” Shin replied.

“I told you, I haven’t even seen a doctor yet. I’ve only discussed it with one of my ladies.”

“Kitsu Rokujo?”

“No. Everything I tell her gets leaked to Father—got leaked, I mean.”

“...So that’s why Father didn’t know.”

“I won’t listen to him anymore.” Somehow, Banka’s mood had brightened. “I told Father the same thing.”

Both of her brothers looked stunned. They looked exactly alike when they made that expression.

“There’s no way Father would allow something like that.”

“...Father wouldn’t care.”

Shin and Ryou had differing opinions.

“You’ll just be abandoned. Are you okay with that?”

“Abandoned? Brother, she’s pregnant with His Majesty’s child. He won’t abandon her, right?”

“I mean, from an emotional standpoint.”

Banka clasped her hands together on her chest. “I shall try casting him aside once as well. After that, I’d like to see Father in a new light.”

Shin and Ryou looked at each other.

“I only know Father as he is now—no, I don’t even know much about him at all. Hey, Eldest Brother, Father must have had a younger sister too, right?”

“Ah...yes, I suppose so. I don’t really know either,” Shin answered, sounding perplexed.

“I want to know what Father has gone through until now. I’m sure he...”

He’s suffering.

Banka closed her eyes, then opened them again.

I want to know what that is.

She narrowed her eyes. The room was filled with bright sunlight.

She thought she would just rot away inside her cocoon.

Just now, Banka broke free from her chrysalis and crawled out of her cocoon, finally feeling the light outside.

Dressed as a eunuch, Jusetsu secretly left Yamei Palace, accompanied only by Onkei. She had received a summons from Koushun.

Await me at the Winter Ministry.

That was all it said.

At the Winter Ministry, they were greeted by the acolytes. Koushun was waiting for them. They were shown to a room where Ei Sei was standing in front of the door. Ei Sei didn’t even glance at her and simply bowed as per the custom.

Leaving Onkei behind, Jusetsu entered the room. Not only Koushun was there, but also Senri and Hou Ichigyou.

Jusetsu joined them where they sat around a table. Koushun was sitting across from her. It had been a while since the recent incident that she had last seen him face to face.

She kept her eyes downcast for some moments. She wondered what kind of expression he had on his face and was somehow afraid to look. She recalled that cold heavy feeling she had felt when he entered Hakkaku Palace. Still, she couldn’t keep her head down forever. Jusetsu slowly raised her head.

Koushun was looking straight at her. His gaze was calm and composed, not the least bit different from the first time they met.

Why doesn’t it change?

It upset her so much that she didn’t know what to do. But she couldn’t look away.

This incident made Jusetsu keenly aware of the precariousness of her own existence. The terrifying realization that her existence could expand far beyond her control. This time, it was merely a minor skirmish within the inner palace, should something similar happen again, who knows what might unfold?

And so, Koushun, too, probably couldn’t treat Jusetsu the same way as before. Precisely because he was the one who reached out to her, he must be feeling the weight of that action.

But his gaze didn’t change.

“—I’ve been thinking for a while now about what the best thing to do would be,” Koushun began quietly. “I don’t regret my decision to save you, nor will I change my mind. I know full well that the Raven Consort is a dangerous existence. It’s only natural that the Winter King, the king of rituals, commands devotion. Confining such a being to the inner palace is itself a mistake. It’s not a simple matter of eliminating you if you’re dangerous. Nor is it a matter of simply concealing you and pretending there is no problem, as is currently being done. We must untangle the knotted threads from their very roots. Neither forcing a break nor abandoning thought will suffice. In the end, that will not solve anything.”

Jusetsu never once took her eyes off Koushun’s. he couldn’t possibly be without doubt. The less he regretted, the more his suffering grew. Even so, Koushun chose to seek a path together rather than pretending not to see anything.

But they didn’t know how difficult the path would be.

“First, we need to correct Koushou’s mistake,” Koushun continued calmly. He always spoke as if nothing was of concern, no matter what it was.

Koushou’s mistake. Namely, imprisoning Uren Niangniang.

“To do this, we must find Uren Niangniang’s other half. The only one who can do this is the Raven Consort, which is why Koushou created a barrier to prevent her from going outside. Therefore, we must break that barrier. I was asking Hou Ichigyou whether it was possible to break it.”

Koushun turned his attention to Hou. “Yes, Your Majesty,” he said respectfully.

“In sorcerer theory, there is no barrier that cannot be broken. That is because a barrier is created by ‘binding.’ For instance, we bind threads together to create a barrier. Or we tie ivy into a ring. Once it’s knotted, it can come undone. Unravelling is inevitable. Koushou—” Hou clasped his fingers together. “—created a barrier with her fingers. This, too, can be undone. Her fingers are buried at nine gates, meaning there are nine knots.” (2)

“Do you mean that we need to untie them one by one?” Senri asked.

“No,” Hou shook his head. “If they were untied one by one, the previously untied knot would return to its original state when the next one was untied. That’s why the barrier cannot be broken by one person. It was designed so that the Raven Consort could not break it alone.”

“In other words,” Koushun said. “It can be done with more than one person?”

“This is what is called a mending art. Though the knots may return to their original state, they are not infinite. When one is undone, another must mend. It is an art where they compensate for each other to prevent the destruction of the barrier. There are nine, so three pairs mutually repair each other. Therefore, three must be undone simultaneously. In other words, to break this barrier—”

“Three people,” Jusetsu said. “So, three people are needed?”

“Yes. And they need to be powerful enough to break Koushou’s arts. Until now, even if the Raven Consort had wanted to dispel this barrier, it would have been exceedingly difficult for her to gather three people together. She’d have to recruit a collaborator powerful enough, and work under the supervision of a sorcerer.”

“That makes three people, including the Raven Consort, yes?” Senri said. “In that case, we’ll include you, leaving just one.”

“One...” Jusetsu muttered.

“There are no more sorcerers in the capital,” Hou said with a grim expression. “They all fled during the reign of the emperor before the last. How should we search for them...?”

“I doubt they would come back even if we send out an official notice. They’d probably assume it’s a trap,” Koushun crossed his arms. “I suppose we’ll just have to search the countryside.”

Jusetsu fell silent. A powerful sorcerer. One person immediately came to mind when she heard that, but he was no good. He would never cooperate with her. He might cast curses, but he wouldn’t lift them.

The one-eyed sorcerer, Hakurai.

An image of the indigo ocean and crashing white waves flashed through her mind, then disappeared.

Lying at the bottom of the deep, deep sea, in the silence of the night, I wait endlessly. For the day I return to myself.

Previous || Index || Next

Koushun quietly placed his finger on the Go board.

“If you don’t play here right now, this stone cannot be saved.”

Jusetsu pointed to another spot on the board. “But if I play here…”

“You’ll lose even more stones. Your territory will only get smaller and smaller. Since you’re trying to take territory, you need to think ahead and play steadily, without making impulsive moves.”

“Hmm,” Jusetsu frowned. Playing Go was difficult.

“I don’t know how far ahead I should think.”

“It’s all about practice and intuition. Once you get familiar with it, you’ll understand.”

Jusetsu slumped back in her chair. “By the time I get familiar with it, I’ll most likely be elderly.”

Koushun laughed a little. “We can keep playing even when we’re both old.”

“…You believe I won’t be able to win until I reach that age, don’t you.”

“No—well, who can say.”

Jusetsu was sure that he was about to say she wouldn’t be able to win even when she was old. Koushun seemed to be surprisingly competitive. He always kept a calm composure because he was convinced that she couldn’t beat him.

Even when we’re old, huh?

Before, she had never even thought about what it would be like to grow old. She hated thinking about it. Even if she lived to reach that age, suffering was the only thing awaiting her.

“I’ve brought tea.”

Jiujiu arrived, bringing the aroma of tea with her. Jusetsu and Koushun moved from the windowsill where the Go board was placed and moved to the table. The fish-shaped ornaments swayed from both of their sashes.

“This is tea from Bu Province, given to us by Your Majesty. It has a wonderful aroma.”

The aroma that spread with the gentle steam was truly clear and exceptional. As the night air chilled her skin, the warmth of the tea was comforting. There were also roasted rice cakes with jujube bean paste on the table. Koushun had brought them. As always, he hadn’t gotten rid of his propensity to bring food.

“You seem to like lotus seeds, so I couldn’t choose between that and jujubes for the filling. Would you have preferred lotus seeds?”

“I do like lotus seeds, but these are delicious in their own way.”

Lotus seed paste was soft and fluffy, and jujube paste was sweet and sour. Both were delicious. Koushun looked satisfied as Jusetsu devoured the cakes enthusiastically. It annoyed her that she acted the way he wanted, but good food was good, so there was nothing she could do about it.

“I’ll give the rest to Jiujiu and the others. Ishiha is already asleep, so tomorrow.”

As Jusetsu was about to have the tray removed, Koushun said, “I’ve already delivered enough for them to the kitchen.”　

“You’re well prepared.”

“There’s more people here, after all.”

Koushun looked around the room. Right now, he and Jusetsu were alone together, but this place would become quite lively in the daytime.

“It is your fault that the number of people here increased. You kept insisting upon it.”

“It’s still not many people for a palace, but...do you have enough staff?”

“I do. Tan Kai keeps complaining about needing more guards, but I think he just wants to laze around. Onkei said that the two of them are enough. More guards aren’t necessarily better.”

“Is that so?” Koushun looked at her with some surprise.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, really...its’s just that you’re getting along surprisingly well with the guards. You were reluctant to increase your numbers, so this was unexpected.”

Jusetsu averted her gaze. Reijou had ordered her not to add any more palace ladies or eunuchs. The Raven Consort was meant to be a solitary existence. Having violated that order, Jusetsu felt somewhat guilty.　

...But.　

“...Now that you’ve placed them by my side, I have decided to protect them as their master. You’ve said it as well—that once you’ve extended a hand to someone, you must see it through until the end.”

Koushun had once said this to Jusetsu when she was unsure whether or not to bring Ishiha into Yamei Palace.　

You, too, should have someone to pour your love into. Whether it’s one, two, or any number of people.

She was slowly beginning to understand the meaning of his words.　

“I used to believe that placing people around me would make me weaker, but that is not the case.”

A retainer didn’t protect their master—they made them stronger. In order to protect them, Jusetsu must become stronger. She must become like a mighty tree that will never fall.　

Koushun narrowed his eyes, as though he was looking at something dazzling.　

“If you’ve come to feel that way, I’m glad. It does feel a little lonely, though.”

“Lonely? Why do you feel that way?”

“Well...” Koushun tilted his head, expressionless. “I suppose it feels like I’m watching a chick leave its nest.”

“Who is the chick here?”

“Or maybe that’s not quite right. Hmm...” Koushin pondered seriously. “Maybe I feel a little disappointed that you’re gaining more and more people close to you besides me...”

Jusetsu stared his face fixedly. “Disappointed?”

“I feel as though you’ve been stolen from me.”

“I am no object.”

“I know. But honestly, I can’t help feeling this way. Have you ever felt this way?”

“N—” Jusetsu was about to answer “no,” but stopped. No, wait. A lonely, gloomy feeling... Suddenly, a face appeared in her mind.

It was Reiko Shiki.　

“...”

“No,  I said something that didn’t make sense. I apologize,” Koushun said when Jusetsu remained silent.　

“I don’t truly understand it myself. Forget it.”

Before Jusetsu could put into words the vague feelings she had towards Koushun and Shiki, Koushun quickly ended the topic.　

Silence fell. It felt strangely long. A drum sounded in the distance, signaling the hour.　

“...I’m going to be heading back soon. Is there anything you’d like to bring you next time?” Koushun stood up from his chair.

“No.”

“As the number of people increases, there will be more things you’ll need. If anything comes up, just send a letter.”

“Kajou brings almost everything. Books, brushes, inkstones, everything, before I even have a chance to say anything.”

“Ah, I see... She’s gotten ahead of me. I can’t hold a candle to Kajou when it comes to that kind of perceptiveness. What am I to do?”

 “It is not a competition.”

 “In the end, it looks like there’s nothing I can do other than bringing delicious food,” he said, expressionless, with just a hint of regret. What a strange man, Jusetsu thought. Instead of worrying about her, he should just brought even just a single flower to the other consorts.

“Food is the best thing to bring,” Jusetsu said, and Koushun smiled. “Is that so?”

When he opened the door, Ei Sei was waiting outside. He hadn’t been coming inside lately, but instead often waited just outside the door. Jusetsu didn’t know why. Without even glancing at her, Ei Sei knelt down in front of Koushun. “I’m returning to Gyoukou Hall,” Koushun said. Ei Sei lit a candle and walked ahead of him. Jusetsu stood there, absentmindedly watching the two of them. It had somehow become a habit of hers to watch the light recede into the distance when Koushun left her palace.　

We can still play together even when we’re both old, right?　

As she gazed at the flickering light, Jusetsu ruminated on Koushun’s words.　

Even when we become an old woman and an old man, we will still be together.　

Koushun’s words, woven together so naturally, illuminated the path under Jusetsu’s feet. It had always been that way. And so, little by little, a path began to appear beyond the darkness that she thought was impossible to see through.　

The light that had faintly illuminated the figures of Koushun and Ei Sei gradually faded away.　

As the lingering heat faded and the coolness deepened night after night, the darkness seemed to grow transparent and sharp. Gone was summer’s thick, viscous, stagnant darkness. Though it was now clear, darkness still lay beyond darkness. Its clarity only heightened its purity. Mixed with the night air, it seemed to seep into her chest with every breath.

By the time the light faded from view, her clothes had absorbed the darkness and grown heavy and cold.　

The candle’s flame wavered, illuminating the way ahead, but Ei Sei’s heart was also wavering.　

“Ei Sei, there’s no need to wait outside. We’re not having a secret meeting or anything.”

“Hah...”

Koushun said that, but Ei Sei didn’t know how to view Jusetsu, and he felt uncomfortable. He never thought he would feel this way. Just because she might be his half-sister. As more time passed, the thought weighed heavily on his heart.　

Are blood ties truly that strong?

It was probably because Ei Sei was a eunuch. He no longer had a father or mother, and no blood relative would be born to him henceforth. He had always believed he would remain forever disconnected from the bonds of blood. Though Ei Sei had a master worthy of devotion in Koushun, once he stepped away from his role as a retainer, he could not shake the feeling that he was utterly alone in this world.

A younger sister.

Like a stormy sea, Ei Sei’s heart was tossed about in turmoil.

That girl is nothing but a danger to Dajia.

She wasn’t just the Raven Consort—she was the sole survivor of the previous dynasty.

Koushun shouldn’t get too close to her. Ei Sei wasn’t even too sure about their friendship, but what if...? That fear never left his mind.

Ei Sei glanced behind him. He wondered if Koushun knew that he was showing Jusetsu an expression he had never shown to anyone else. Ei Sei felt that something immense, something neither friendship nor romantic love, was there, and it terrified him.

The moldy smell of ink was strangely calming. Shiki slowly inhaled the scent as he took a scroll of bamboo strips from the shelf.

The history library in Koutou Academy consisted of a large hall and several small rooms, all of which were used as archives. There were also other history libraries within the palace complex, so the number of classic works collected was enormous. Some libraries focused on compiling historical works, others collected family histories, local histories, and geography from all over the nation, and still others stored old official documents. Though originally gathered for the purpose of compiling historical works, the principle that books were precious assets had remained unchanged since the previous dynasty. To this day, they continued to be collected indiscriminately, both domestic and foreign works.

The collecting of classics seemed to have begun when the first emperor of the previous dynasty issued a decree requiring the submission of geographical treatises and works of fiction from across the land. Since those who submitted them were rewarded with silk, it seemed that the collection was undertaken with considerable enthusiasm and on a grand scale.

This archive housed a wide variety of books, from ancient decrees to colorful exotic manuscripts. Paper books, of course, but also bamboo strips, wooden scrolls, and silk scrolls, were all sorted by type and stored in their respective repositories. Particularly valuable for understanding ancient customs were the collections of old manuscripts—once gathering dust and decaying in the corners of the repository—which had been meticulously transcribed and edited under the personal direction of several emperors during the preceding dynasty.

“Master Reiko, the chancellor asked you to bring something extra.”

A student apprentice arrived and handed Shiki a slip of paper. The new chancellor, Ka Meiin, was notoriously demanding. Since Shiki knew best which books were stored in which archives, he was usually summoned like this. It was Meiin who recommended Shiki as a scholar and was currently letting him stay at his estate, so Shiki dared not refuse. He had intended to move out once things settled, but since a room was available anyway, he was told to stay put and remained lodged at Meiin’s residence.

He's probably keeping me close by to make sure I don’t do anything strange.

Shiki was most likely still not fully trusted. People suspected his connection to Saname Chouyou.

In reality, he was merely used by them.

Shiki was poisoned by Chouyou’s uncle, causing him to flee Ga Province. If Chouyou had wanted to, Shiki would not have left the province alive. Shiki’s escape was permitted so that his suspicions about Saname could be reported to the central government. It was better for the misdeeds to be known, as it made it easier to deal with the uncle later. The emperor also knew of the attempt to poison the deputy inspector.

 What an irritating man, Shiki thought. Not only did he nearly die, but he was under suspicion. It was adding insult to injury. Was Chouyou connected to the Eight Truths too? Or was it only his uncle who had ties to them?

Hakurai of the Eight Truths.

Whenever he thought of that sect leader, his heart chilled, as if a shadow had fallen over it. A dark hatred welled up within him. His sister, Shoumei, was dead because of that man.

The predecessor to the Eight Truths was the Moon’s Truth Sect. Shoumei’s in-laws were followers of that sect. Shoumei was beaten to death by them. It was Hakurai who instigated them. Everyone in her husband’s family was executed, but Hakurai was still alive and well. Every time the image of Shoumei’s battered corpse came to mind, he felt a rage that made his body tremble. Shiki could never hate him enough.

Suddenly, he looked at his right arm. There was a white hand grasping his sleeve. A slender, frail woman’s hand. It belonged to Shoumei. Shiki closed his eyes, exhaled, and looked at his sleeve again. The hand had disappeared.

The white hand had appeared as if to admonish Shiki for his hatred. As long as he hated Hakurai, his sister’s soul would not be able to cross over to paradise. He wanted to allow his sister to rest in peace, but he couldn’t erase his hatred.

Why won’t you let me hate him?

Shiki leaned against the shelf. The path seemed blocked both ahead and behind.

“…Pardon me, good sir. Are you feeling well?”

Hearing a clear female voice, Shiki turned around. A beautiful woman stood there, clad in a jade-colored underrobe and a celadon skirt. She was the Duck Consort, Un Kajou, accompanied by her ladies and eunuchs. She occasionally came here to borrow books. Shiki had met her here once before.

“—My apologies, Duck Consort.” Shiki knelt down and bowed.

“Please stand up. I’m sure you aren’t feeling well,” Kajou replied, concerned.

“No, I’m fine. I’m only a little sleep-deprived.”

“Oh my, but a lack of sleep is bad for the body. It’s going to make you sick, so don’t underestimate it. Drinking some medicinal decoctions will help.”

“Yes… Thank you, my lady.”

He bowed and waited for Kajou to leave. However, the celadon skirt filling his vision didn’t move. He could clearly make out the pearl patterns embroidered in silver thread. Despite being the foremost consort, her understated elegance, free from ostentation, spoke of her intellect. But why is she not leaving? Is there a book she wants me to fetch?

“You’re originally from Reki Province, yes? How long did you live there?”

“I stayed there until I was about ten years old. After that, I was posted in various places as a regional official,” Shiki answered, wondering why she asked such a question.

“I see…”

Kajou seemed to swallow back her words. Shiki recalled what Koushun said before. She had lost an acquaintance in Reki Province.

Was it during the Moon’s Truth riots?

Shiki couldn’t bring himself to ask, so he remained silent. The Moon’s Truth, which had spread throughout Reki Province, was eventually destroyed by a riot among its followers. A few years later, the Eight Truths spread mainly in Ga Province, but its leader, Hakurai, was exiled from the province, causing the sect to collapse. However, Shiki suspected that Hakurai would create a similar organization again.

“I’d like to borrow the Sea Corner Divine Mysteries Record. Where can I find it?” Kajou asked as if the earlier question had never been asked.

“I believe that is a collection of legends compiled during the previous dynasty, is it not? It’s this way,” Shiki said, feigning nonchalance as well.

He led her to the back of the archives. The smell of ink hung in the air in the silence, and Kajou’s hair ornaments rustled as they swayed. Shiki thought of her as a cool and refreshing person, just like that sound. And yet, he also sensed a certain sadness about her and couldn’t quite put his finger as to why.

“Ah...”

A faint cry came from behind him. “Is something the matter?” Shiki asked, turning around to find that Kajou had stopped and was staring at the back of the shelf next to her.

“What’s wrong, my lady?” Shiki repeated.

“...I thought I saw a scholar there,” Kajou tilted her head. Her hair ornaments jingled. “I suppose it was merely my imagination.”

“Ah,” Shiki also looked towards the back of the shelf. “Have you seen it? Most scholars do.”

Kajou fixed her gaze on his face. “What do you mean?”

“It’s a ghost. It appears from time to time.”

Kajou was surprised by his calm response. “It never caused any harm,” Shiki added. “They say that he’s looking for his own writings. I don’t know if that’s true, though. I’ve only heard it from other scholars.”

“His writings...?”

“He is said to be a scribe from the previous dynasty. Ancient texts like the Sea Corner Divine Mysteries Record that had been neglected were recopied by imperial decree during that era. Those who performed the copying were called scribes. That ghost was also a scribe, but it’s said he embezzled the brushes and paper provided to him and was executed. Since they couldn’t leave behind anything transcribed by a criminal, everything he copied was destroyed. Supposedly, he was so frustrated by this that he is searching the archives for even just one of his writings.”

Shiki first saw the ghost about a month ago. He was working in the archives when he turned around and saw him. With his back to Shiki, he was pressed against the shelves, staring intently at the scrolls. It was immediately clear that he was no ordinary person. Not only was his clothing a lighter color than the scholars’ blue-green robes, but he clearly didn’t give off the air of a living person.

Perhaps Shiki felt that way because his sleeve was still being tugged at by his sister. In any case, he had watched, holding his breath, as the ghost turned around with his head bowed and trudged toward him. His face was obscured by shadows. Even in the dark, at this close distance, one should be able to see something, yet Shiki couldn’t see anything. The ghost’s clothes were terribly soiled. Ink stained his chest, the hem of his robe, and his sleeves. It was immediately clear that he had been someone engaged in some kind of writing work. The ghost walked with his head bowed, listlessly, and then simply faded away.

Shiki had seen that ghost about three times already. Since he spent a lot of time in the archives, he had many opportunities to run into the ghost. Some of the other scholars hadn’t seen him yet.

“That poor ghost,” Kajou said with pity. Without replying, Shiki continued walking through the stacks. He found the scroll Kajou wanted and returned with it. Kajou was still staring at the back of the shelf where the ghost had been.

“Perhaps I should discuss this with the Raven Consort,” she muttered to herself.

“Pardon?”

“Oh, no, I was thinking that perhaps we should ask the Raven Consort to help. It isn’t a matter relating to the inner palace, so maybe I shouldn’t go ahead and do whatever I want, but I don’t want to cause His Majesty any trouble, right?”

“Well...”

“I think I should talk to her first.” Having reached her own conclusion, Kajou nodded to herself in satisfaction. “It would be good for the ghost as well if the Raven Consort helped him.”

“I...am not so sure about that.”

Shiki felt the urge to argue back. Kajou’s eyes widened, as if she hadn’t expected him to object.

“Why, what do you mean?”

“Why not just let that ghost search until he’s satisfied? There’s no need to force him to cross over.”

“Force him...? No matter how much he searches, nothing written by him remains, does it not?”

“We can’t say for sure that there’s nothing left. We weren’t there at the time. There might be something left after all.”

“I see,” Kajou tilted her head, as if pondering something. Her hair ornaments clinked together once again. The sound lingered in Shiki’s ears. “You don’t want the ghost to cross over to paradise, do you?”

Shiki glanced at his right sleeve. “...That isn’t the case.”

If I could send him to paradise, I would. But—

“There are some things beyond our control, my lady. Not everyone can pass smoothly into paradise.”

I see. I guess I feel guilty.

Because of him, Shoumei couldn’t pass on.

“...My apologies. I’m a bit uneasy around the Raven Consort.”

“Oh my,” Kajou seemed quite shocked. “You are? Have you met her?”

“I have. It was a personal matter.”

“Ah,” Kajou said, deflecting the “personal matter” part as if she understood. She correctly sensed the unspoken meaning: “Don’t ask.” “I see. She’s a kind, lovely girl.”

“I know she is kind. That’s why...” Shiki closed his mouth. That’s why I feel like I’m being censured.

She asked him why did he hate. Why couldn’t he let go of his hatred, if it came at the cost of keeping Shoumei in this world?

Jusetsu didn’t understand Shiki’s feelings. They couldn’t understand each other.

He knew very well that he was in the wrong. Jusetsu was right. He should let Shoumei go.

But—

“I understand what you wish to say. But that and the ghost here are separate issues,” Kajou said softly, yet there was a firmness in her voice. “I’ll consult with the Raven Consort. She won’t do anything unreasonable, so don’t worry.”

She took the scroll that Shiki was holding. “Is this the Sea Corner Divine Mysteries Record? Thank you very much for finding it for me.” After handing the scroll to the eunuch standing behind her, she smiled at him.

“Please take care of yourself. You look like you’re in pain.”

Kajou turned on her heel. Her hair ornaments swayed once more, clinking coolly together. The sound lingered in Shiki’s ears for a long time.

“A-mei, do you know of the ghost at Koutou Academy?”

That was what Kajou asked Jusetsu when she visited Yamei Palace at night, a scroll in hand. “A-mei” was her affectionate nickname for Jusetsu.

“Koutou Academy...? No, I know nothing of it.”

“There’s a ghost wandering archives. I saw it myself earlier,” Kajou said calmly. She showed no sign of fear. As one would expect of the highest-ranking consort.

“They not only populate the inner palace, but are scattered throughout the imperial palace. There is no end to them.”

“Since this palace was built during the previous dynasty, there must be a lot of ghosts living here.”

“There has been too much bloodshed.”

Executions, purges, assassinations, curses... Just how many people have died within this palace? Entire families were often slaughtered as punishment, so the accumulated resentment must be staggering.

“So, who is this ghost of Koutou Academy?”

“He is from the previous dynasty. Do you know a scholar of the academy by the name of Reiko Shiki?”

Jusetsu stopped sipping her tea.

“...I do. He is a new scholar, is he not? He used to be the deputy inspector of Ga Province.”

“He is the one who told me about the ghost. ...He seems lonely, doesn’t he.”

Jusetsu recalled Shiki’s appearance. He seemed like a young man who came from a wealthy merchant family, and despite his gentle features, his eyes were dark and shadowed. She remembered thinking they resembled the shade of early spring. Like feeling warmth only to be startled by a sudden chill.

“...He had a troubled past.” Shiki was a man who seemed precariously close to falling into a dark abyss at any moment. “That Reiko Shiki told you the story of the ghost?”

She assumed they had spoken about it when Kajou went to borrow the scroll, and sure enough, that was the case. Kajou told her the story of the ghost wandering around looking for his writings. After listening to the whole thing, Jusetsu became lost in thought.

“Looking for something he wrote himself? If he has continued to look for it until now and still can’t find it, it most likely doesn’t exist.”

But he still kept on searching. What a pitiful ghost.

“If the story is true, I feel sorry for him, but...Koutou Academy, is it? It would be problematic for Koushun if I were to do as I please.”

Matters within the inner palace might be one thing, but acting too freely outside without permission wouldn’t reflect well on the emperor.

“Hoho,” Kajou laughed in amusement. “I never thought you would be worried about His Majesty. I’ll let him know next time.”

Jusetsu frowned. “He has his dignity as well. I will show him that much consideration.”

“Hoho... A-mei, why don’t you write a letter to get His Majesty’s permission? That way, you won’t have any problems even if you do as you please.”

Jusetsu thought that doing as she pleased even with permission might be troublesome as well, but she accepted Kajou’s suggestion.

“Do you and His Majesty exchange letters regularly?”

“On occasion.”

“How wonderful.”

“He gave me paper, and I thought it would be a waste not to use it, so I’m merely writing for the sake of it.”

“I see,” Kajou nodded, smiling. “Please continue to do so. I’m sure His Majesty would be pleased as well.”

She spoke like a concerned older sister. It seemed that she and Koushun had always been like this.

“A-mei, I’m planning to transcribe this scroll and give it to you. It may still be difficult for Ishiha, but I’m sure he’ll be able to read it eventually.”

Kajou was always so considerate of Ishiha. “Thank you,” Jusetsu said. Kajou smiled happily.

“I, for one, am truly grateful to you for giving me this drive. Teaching children is such a joyful thing, you know.”

Before leaving, Kajou told her to let her know if she needed any more waste paper. Her earlier words were probably sincere. Kajou lived her life in memory of her late lover—but would she continue living like this forever? Of course, it wasn’t for Jusetsu to judge whether that’s right or wrong.

If this had become a drive for Kajou, then perhaps she could talk to her about Ishiha’s education for a little bit. As she was thinking this, she went to the cupboard where she kept the paper and inkstone to write.

The letter from Jusetsu spoke of a ghost in Koutou Academy. She asked two things: whether or not it was possible to investigate whether the executed scribe actually existed, and if it was okay for her to go the palace to see the ghost. It was a curt message that only stated only the purpose, but Koushun smiled faintly as he read it in his private room in the inner court.　

It was unusual for Jusetsu to make such a formal inquiry. It was probably because it wasn’t a matter related to the inner palace. Until now, whenever it concerned something outside the inner palace, she had sent a letter. It was just like her to show such thoughtful consideration.　

“Ei Sei, send messengers to Yamei Palace and Koutou Academy.”

“Yes, sir,” Ei Sei bowed.

“Tell Jusetsu to do as she pleases. That should suffice. Then instruct Reiko Shiki to investigate. Check the records to see if the ghost of the scribe actually existed as the rumors say.”

If he was executed, it would have been recorded officially. Official records from the previous dynasty were preserved as they were useful. If they looked into them, they were sure to find something.　

Ei Sei left the room to send the messengers. Before he returned, an errand eunuch arrived in some haste.

“Your Majesty, Lord Saname Chouyou wishes to meet with you.”

“--Does he now,” Koushun paused for a moment, then instructed, “Take me to Koshi Palace.”

What could Chouyou possibly want?

Koshi Palace was located on the outskirts of the inner court. As a secluded retreat for the emperor to relax in peace and quiet, not a place to receive guests, its construction was exceedingly simple. Nevertheless, it was encircled by an earthen wall, and a heavily guarded gate with a tiled roof stood at its entrance. Smooth polished cobblestones paved the way to the sole building, and ornamental tiles on the edge of the roof featured the figure of an old man riding a large turtle. Lanterns hanging from the eaves were carved with fretwork of waves. There was no garden, and all that surrounded the small building was a blanket of white sand. The white sand was likely meant to resemble the sea.　

The palanquin carrying Koushun passed through the gate and was lowered in front of the steps of the palace. Koushun climbed the steps after stepping out of the palanquin and found Chouyou kneeling inside. A cool breeze blew through, causing the copper banners around the room to rustle and sway. Star designs were inlaid into the stone floor. They were clearly related to sorcery and divination, but their significance was unknown. Koushun sat in a chair and looked at the kneeling Chouyou.

“I often come here to discuss confidential matters.”

The corner of Chouyou’s mouth twitched.

“No need for preamble. What is your business?”

“--Yes,” Chouyou raised his head, eyes slightly downcast, and spoke. “Then I shall be blunt. “Then I shall get straight to the point. Your Majesty, why do you keep the Raven Consort alive?”

Koushun was a little slow to react to those unexpected words. “...It is not for you to ask why.”　

His voice, lower and colder than even he expected, dropped to the floor.　

“I am well aware that I am overstepping my bounds. But as I stated before, I intend to serve Your Majesty faithfully. Therefore, even if it earns your displeasure, I must offer my counsel. An orphan of the previous dynasty will only bring calamity.”

He held his breath. He had expected it when Chouyou had asked that question.

Where did it leak?　

The presence of a spy was within expectations...Were they at Hakkaku Palace?

“This is not something for you to interfere in. Know your place.”

Koushun’s cold voice silenced Chouyou for a moment, but then he spoke again. His voice was restrained and low.　

“May I explain myself a little, Your Majesty?”

“...What is it?”

“I do not know what manner of being the Raven Consort is. A consort skilled in sorcery seems rather dubious, but since it is the inner palace, there must be some sort of ancient custom to observe. I shall say no more on that matter. However, the current Raven Consort is too dangerous.”

Chouyou’s gaze was sharp. Not like a thin blade, but rather the intimidating sharpness of a spear.　

“Not only is she descended from the previous dynasty, but I hear she has many followers, perhaps due to the influence of the Raven Consort. Is she not an exceedingly dangerous existence? I cannot imagine that Your Majesty is unaware of this. The wisest course would be to imprison her or dispose of her, before it’s too late.”

“...”

Is he telling the truth when he claimed he doesn’t know what the Raven Consort is?　

He didn’t know that much, did he? He couldn’t know that the Raven Consort was the Winter King, and that without her, the Summer King—the emperor—could never truly reign.　

Or perhaps he knows and is pretending not to. If I were Chouyou, Koushun thought. I wouldn’t reveal how far my information network extends. I’d only disclose information that’s effective to reveal now and remain silent about the rest.　

Either way...　

Since Chouyou wouldn’t reveal anything, he must speak in the same manner.　

“You speak so lightly about disposing of her, but it cannot be done. There is a reason for that. And I cannot tell you what it is. In your words, it is an ‘ancient custom.’”

Chouyou was silent, staring intently at the space around Koushun’s knees as though in deep thought.　

“So you are keeping her alive because of a custom...”

“That’s not quite right either.” Even without a custom, Koushun would not kill Jusetsu. And, he was attempting to overturn that custom itself. “But that is something you don’t need to know.”

Chouyou’s expression gave nothing away. He looked up at Koushun.　

“Does that custom outweigh the risk of chaos that an orphan of the previous dynasty might cause?”

“--That’s right.”

That momentary pause was, frankly, because he had never weighed it against anything else. Being a descendant of the previous dynasty couldn’t compare to the weight of losing the Winter King. --But in a way, that was just an excuse. It was a shield to protect Jusetsu’s life.　

And Koushun was trying to break that shield. He was trying to break it to save Jusetsu from her role as the Raven Consort.　

The path to saving Jusetsu leads to a path that threatens her life.

A lump formed in the back of the throat, as if a stone had lodged there.

“Understood,” Chouyou bowed deeply. “I spoke rashly. My apologies.”

“No...”

This man is...　

After dismissing Chouyou, Koushun leaned back in his chair. He gazed at the copper banners encircling the room. A wind blew, making them ring out with a high-pitched sound.　

Koushun had been unconsciously averting his gaze from the very vulnerability he knew existed all along—until Choyou pierced through it.　

The precariousness inherent in the existence of Jusetsu.

No, I understand perfectly well.　

Even while knowing it was dangerous, Koushun reached out his hand to her and asked her to be friends. He couldn’t help but reach out. Even as he thought it might be a mistake.　

That evening, Banka visited Samon Palace, the villa where the Saname entourage were staying, to wait for her father. Although she was still within palace grounds, this was her first time leaving the inner palace since entering it.

There was a pond on the southwest side of the villa, with a stone terrace jutting out over it. A round rosewood table and chairs had been set up there, and tea had been prepared. The tea had long since cooled before Banka had even touched it. The ladies-in-waiting and servants had left, so no one came to change the tea. She didn’t even notice the blue sky reflected in the pond’s water, or the pine branches in the garden.

Just as she was quietly taking a breath, she heard the sound of footsteps and the rustling of clothing from the outer corridor and gasped. The pace was brisk yet efficient, without any sense of haste, and the rustling of clothing was kept to a minimum.

She knew it from the footsteps. It was her father.

Banka stood up. Her father, Chouyou, appeared from the outer corridor. He glanced at her and said simply, “You should have waited inside.” It was a rather cold response to his youngest daughter, whom he was meeting for the first time in years.

“It’s been a long time, Father.”

“Why didn’t you follow my orders?”

Chouyou hated waste. That was why the closer someone was to him, the more he cut out unnecessary words. Even the most basic greetings and conversations. He saw no value in them. Not even a single “How have you been?”

I know that, but...

Banka gently bit her lower lip.

“What orders do you mean, Father?”

Chouyou frowned. “Do not give me these pointless excuses. It’s a waste of time. I told you not to get involved with the Raven Consort.”

“...I’m not involved with her.”

“And yet you snuck out of Hakkaku Palace to visit her?”

“...”

The one who told him must have been Banka’s lady-in-waiting. Banka’s every move was being reported.

“Why do you say I shouldn’t get involved with her?”

“Because that girl is an orphan of the previous dynasty.”

Banka was taken aback by how casually he said those words. An orphan of the previous dynasty? Jusetsu?

Wasn’t it that anyone with blood from the previous dynasty was captured and beheaded?

“His Majesty recently abolished the order to capture and kill members of the previous royal family, deeming it unnecessary. It must be for the Raven Consort’s sake. His Majesty favors her excessively.” A look of sadness crossed Chouyou’s face. “It’s unbecoming of His Majesty, who is so upright and just. No matter how you look at it, it’s a source of trouble. If left unchecked, it will crumble from within before long. Should a rebellion break out because of the Raven Consort, the blame will extend to those closest to her. That is why I’m telling you not to get involved.”

“...I can’t believe she’s an orphan of the previous dynasty...”

“You wrote to me and told me that the Raven Consort dyed her hair, though you weren’t sure if it was white or silver. So, I had my connections look into it. Focusing on her hair from the start made it easy to confirm. All I needed was a strand of fallen hair. The Raven Consort’s hair is silver. Silver hair is proof of descent of the previous dynasty,” Chouyou said.

Banka paled. Living in Ga Province, so far from the capital, and rarely leaving the estate, she felt that the previous dynasty was like a tale from a foreign land. And so, she had no idea that silver hair was proof of their blood.

If I had known, would I have told Father?

Banka stared at her tea, which had long since cooled. Nothing was reflected in it. There was no answer anywhere.

“I say this again: stay away from the Raven Consort. It’s for your own good, and ultimately for Saname’s good.”

With that. Chouyou left the terrace. Banka continued to stare at the tea as she listened to his footsteps.

“What’s going on? Have you been summoned by Father?”

Banka looked up at those blunt words and saw her third brother standing near the outer corridor. She could also see her eldest brother behind him. Her third brother, Ryou, approached with long strides. Unlike their father, his footsteps and the rustling of his clothes were loud. In contrast, her eldest brother, Shin, walked with a leisurely, quiet gait. His shuffling gait spoke of his cautious nature.

“It’s been a long time. Father should have told us that you were here. Where is he?”

“…He’s already gone inside.”

“What? He didn’t even bother paying you much attention. The tea is wasted.”

Ryou had that kind of personality. Banka glared at her brother.

“Father is busy.”

“Father still makes time for guests even if he’s busy. He just doesn’t think you’re worth his time.”

Banka poured tea over Ryou.

“That’s cold! You idiot, you never change—”

“Stop it, you two. You’re not children, how pathetic.” Shin told them coldly. “Don’t get so excited just because you haven’t seen each other in a while.” He scolded Ryou, then turned to Banka. “Is that how a consort behaves?” Banka thought he had become more arrogant than he was a few years ago. Because Chouyou rarely spoke much to his children, the eldest brother had always been the one to discipline his younger siblings. In a way, he had a hard life. But because he spoke down to them, they inevitably rebelled.

Ryou turned away. Banka sulked. Shin looked at her face, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

“You look a little pale. Are you feeling unwell?”

“It’s nothing.”

“No, you do. Lie down for a bit,” Ryou said.

“I have to return now,” Banka stood up. “Already?” Ryou was surprised.

“I can’t leave the inner palace for long.”

The palanquin was waiting. Since her father’s business was finished, there was no reason to linger.

“Come again. We’ll be here for a while longer.”

“I’ll come when Father summons me.”

“You…”

Ignoring Ryou’s muttering, Banka left the terrace.

What can I do?

Should she tell her father that the Raven Consort wasn’t a dangerous person?

But I don’t think Father would listen to anything I have to say…

After receiving Koushun’s assurance she could do as she pleased, Jusetsu headed for Koutou Academy. She disguised herself as a eunuch so as not to shock the scholars, which would happen if she dressed as the Raven Consort. Accompanied by Onkei and Tan Kai, to an onlooker they would look like a visiting trio of eunuchs.

Shiki was waiting for Jusetsu in front of the palace. He seemed somewhat surprised to see her in eunuch attire. Jusetsu glanced at his right sleeve. The pale hand was still clutching it.

“There’s always a need to copy foreign encyclopedias, statutes, imperial edicts, calendars, and other government-related documents, so the copying process itself continues here at Koutou Academy. Would you like to take a look?”

Jusetsu nodded in agreement. She didn’t know how the copying process actually worked.

“Please, this way.”

Shiki opened the door to a room. The walls of the not-so-large room were lined with shelves and piles of scrolls. A row of long tables was lined up in the center, and young men with ink-stained robes were concentrating on copying with brushes in hand. They didn’t even look up when Jusetsu and the others entered the room, probably because they were worried that their handwriting would become messy if they moved around too much.

“There are three types of copying work: binding, transcribing, and proofreading, all of which are tasks for apprentice scholars. Apparently, in the past, they would bring in people from government offices who had good handwriting, or hire people on a temporary basis. The transcribers perform their work in this room. The process begins with the binder preparing the paper to be used for the transcribing. Depending on the format of the text being transcribed, it is bound either as a scroll or a bound book, though scrolls are still more common. To make a scroll, each piece of paper is joined together—roughly twenty sheets make up one scroll—and the paper is smoothed by beating it to prevent the brush from catching, and lines are drawn for aligning the characters. The transcribers use this paper to copy the text, and the proofreaders check what they had copied to make sure it is correct. This is the process, in simple terms.”

The ghost in question was a transcriber, which meant he was in charge of copying.

“Since payment is based on output, any mistakes or omissions in the characters will be deducted from your pay. That’s why everyone transcribes with such intense focus.”

Deciding not to disturb them in that case, Jusetsu quickly left the room. It wasn’t just a matter of copying the characters. Merely copying the characters—that is, copying them correctly—was an intensely nerve-wracking task.

“It must be difficult,” Jusetsu said, to which Shiki simply replied, “Yes.” It was as if he was satisfied she understood that. When meeting the transcriber ghost, he had anticipated that Jusetsu wouldn’t know anything of actual copying work, so he first showed her the actual process. He was a man who understood the order of things.

“This is the archive that the ghost haunts.”

Shiki opened the door to a room. A smell that she couldn’t quite place—it was either mold or old ink—hit her.

“By His Majesty’s orders, I investigated whether that transcriber was actually executed.”

“What did you find?” Jusetsu asked as she looked around the archives.

“He was,” Shiki answered simply. “It was during the reign of the fifth emperor of the previous dynasty. This emperor was the one who ordered the copying and compilating of ancient documents. The transcriber in question, called Keichuu, was executed for embezzling the jute paper used for copying.”

“Merely stealing paper was punishable by death?”

“Jute paper is paper dyed with cork, used to prevent insect damage, and is extremely expensive. Furthermore, copying ancient documents is an imperial project, so stealing its materials is tantamount to stealing the emperor’s property. Therefore, it is punishable by death. The provided paper is strictly managed in a paper allotment ledger, so any embezzlement would have been immediately detected.”

“I see,” Jusetsu replied, walking slowly between the shelves. Suddenly, a figure caught her eye at the edge of her vision. Turning her gaze, she saw a young man in yellow robes, his back to her as he clung to a shelf. He seemed to be staring intently at the scrolls, starting from the edge.

Jusetsu walked towards him.

“Have you found your writings?”

The young man stopped moving and turned around slowly. His pale, wan face was covered in dark circles. He seemed to be in his mid-twenties. The cuffs and lower chest of his robe were stained with ink. It was quite dirty. Even Ishiha never got this dirty when he was practicing his writing. The apprentice scholars she had seen earlier were also stained with ink, but this young man was even worse, making her wonder if the young man had been copying texts with extraordinary fervor.

The young man’s gaze wavered unsteadily, seemingly searching for the owner of the voice. “Keichuu,” Jusetsu called out. His gaze suddenly focused on her face.

“Have you found your writings?” Jusetsu repeated the question. Keichuu shook his head slowly, a blank expression on his face.

“I can’t find it.”

His voice was dry. Keichuu hung his head and let out a deep sigh.

Seeing that this ghost seemed able to converse with her, Jusetsu continued to question him.

“Why are you searching for them?”

“It’s awful. They burned every scroll I’ve copied…”

Their conversation didn’t quite make sense. Jusetsu waited for the ghost to say more.

“What did I do? Day after day, all I do is copying. Staring at the bamboo slips, rotting or with the ink fading, I sweated profusely, not even taking time to wash my clothes... And now they’re saying I stole jute paper? Far from stealing, I made very few errors and wasted not a single sheet of paper. And yet, and yet...”

He didn’t steal the paper?

Jusetsu exchanged glances with Shiki. This ghost was claiming to be innocent. He frowned and gave her a slight nod. She took it to mean that he would investigate.

“Were you executed for a crime you didn’t commit?”

“It’s unfair. I poured my heart and soul into copying day after day,” Keichuu’s face twisted in frustration. It seemed that he was more upset about the disposal of his copies than his own execution. “I collected the many scrolls scattered and buried in dust in the storehouses of the history bureaus throughout the palace, carefully cleaned them, and copied them... The scrolls were filled with precious ancient traditions that are now lost. It was an incredible honor to be involved in the meaningful task of preserving them for future generations. It’s unfair.”

Keichuu buried his face in his hands and burst into tears. His fingers and nails were smeared black with ink. He must have been working diligently.

But then he was executed on false charges, and all his work was burned...

It was baffling. What happened?

“Why did it happen? Do you have any idea?”

“It’s unfair. All I did was copy texts every single day. I would never steal paper...”

As expected, their conversation drifted slightly off track. But it seemed he didn’t know the reason.

“My transcriptions must still be here. They’re here. I can smell my ink. They must still be here... They must be here...”

Keichuu began to walk unsteadily. Clinging to the shelves, he muttered, “Ah...no...not this one...” as he stared intently at the scrolls as if licking them. Moaning, Keichuu made his way between the shelves. As he did so, he faded away. When he went around behind the shelf, he had completely disappeared. He must have been wandering between the shelves like that for a long time.

Jusetsu looked around the room. Rows of shelves were piled with stacks of scrolls and books, from bamboo and wooden strips to paper scrolls. A long table stood at the back, and a folding screen separated it from the front. The library wasn’t as spacious as the great hall, but it still contained a vast number of scrolls.

“...Keichuu said his writings should be here.”

“I don’t know. In that case, it seems he should have found them,” Shiki replied.

“But Keichuu is certain. Are the books he transcribed in this archive?”

“The manuscripts copied by imperial decree during the reign of the fifth emperor of the previous dynasty. Yes, they’re here. The Duck Consort borrowed one of them just the other day.”

“Oh, that one.”

“There are more too. About a whole shelf’s worth.”

“So many?”

“There must have been many more ancient documents to begin with, so transcribing and compiling them must have been an enormous undertaking. After all, these were books gathered from across the entire country by the first emperor.”

“From all over the country?”

“Yes. Citizens were told to donate any books they had at home to the palace historical repositories. Those who donated were even given prize silk as a reward. Apparently, geographies and records of unconventional legends yielded the most rewards. Over time, these works were gradually buried in the corners of the library, gathering dust. The fifth emperor reevaluated their value and resolved to preserve them for posterity.”

Shiki led Jusetsu to the shelves. They were packed with paper scrolls. Shiki picked up the closest one and handed it to her. The mounting and the scroll rod weren’t particularly expensive, but they were solidly and carefully made. Perhaps they prioritized substance over appearance.

Jusetsu gazed at the shelves. “If everything’s here, Keichuu should have found it.”

“That should be the case...”

But there was nothing there. Not a single one of his copies.

So, did that mean there truly wasn’t anything left? Keichuu had insisted otherwise.

“...Let us believe his claims. We shall assume that his copies are here and search for them.”

“But even if we do that...” Shiki was perplexed. There was no way to search for them. After all, he didn’t even know Keichuu’s handwriting.

“If Keichuu hadn’t found them even after searching for so long, then they must be in a state that makes them difficult to find. Do you have any idea?”

“Difficult to find... One possibility is that they were reused as scrap paper.”

“You mean...”

“We use the back of paper that’s no longer needed or has typos.”

“Ah.” The paper Ishiha used for writing was also scraps of paper received from other palaces.

“In that case, it would mean there is another text on the reverse side...but that practice isn’t used for the books kept in this repository. What we have here are reading materials like fictions. Scrap paper is used for ledgers and such—where it’s acceptable if the writing on the reverse side shows through, as long as it’s legible. Ledgers and other similar documents aren’t kept in the Koutou Palace’s library, but the government offices’ archives. The oldest and largest collection is the Secretariat’s history bureau, so they might have them there. In any case, they aren’t in this library.”

“They shouldn’t be any, but maybe there are.”

“Are you planning to check each one?” Shiki looked back at the shelves, stacked with a vast number of scrolls.

“About half of them are bamboo or wooden strips. We can also exclude books from before Keichuu’s time. What do you think?”

“Hmm,” Shiki was thinking. “If we use that criteria...about a third.”

“Let us search for ones with text on the back within that third. –Onkei, Tan Kai.”

“Yes,” Onkei responded, but Tan Kai said, “Huh? We’re going to help too?”

Shiki raised his hand as if to stop them. “The scrolls must be treated with care, so we will handle it. I will let you know if anything is found.”

It would be unacceptable for them to be torn or defaced. Jusetsu decided to leave it to him.

“Raven Consort.” As Jusetsu was about to leave the archives, Shiki called out to her. She stopped, but he seemed to be struggling to find the words. He was rubbing his right arm.

“...Raven Consort, are you angry?”

“Angry? What for?”

“That I cannot free Shoumei... That I cannot send her to paradise.” Shiki lowered his eyes. His face was awash with anguish. “You must be reproaching me, even if you do not say it aloud. If only I would give in, Shoumei would be free from suffering....”

Jusetsu frowned.

“If you feel guilty, then send Shoumei onto paradise as soon as possible. Do not shift the cause of your guilt onto me,” she snapped, then left the archives. A gritty feeling lingered in her chest.

“It’s rare for you to be so harsh,” Tan Kai said. Jusetsu didn’t answer him.

Even she realized how cold she sounded. When she looked at Shiki, she felt the lingering taste of bitter medicine on her tongue. The unmelted bitterness scraped against her tongue. She almost said, “Why not consult Koushun?” Why did he come to her mind?　

Frowning in annoyance, Jusetsu quickly left the palace.

“There certainly are suspicions regarding the embezzlement of the transcriber Keichuu.”

Koushun was receiving a report from Shiki in one of Koutou Palace’s rooms. This small room had no shelves, only a red-lacquered cabinet. It contained the most important texts, including ancient chronicles and divination books, which were only accessible to a select few. Rarely did anyone enter this room.　

“He was arrested for stealing jute paper and executed on the same time. It is uncertain if he admitted to his guilt. There was no investigation into what he did with the stolen paper, and no record that he was ever tried at the Autumn Ministry. The paper allotment ledger from that time hadn’t survived, so we cannot accurately determine the number of sheets... But there is something else that concerns me.”

“What is it?”

“The behavior of the emperor at that time was recorded in the Diaries of Activity and Repose--”

The Diaries of Activty and Repose were a record of the emperor’s words and actions in government affairs. It was recorded by the diarist of the Palace Secretariat and the imperial diarist of the Chancellery.

“There is a record of the emperor visiting the copying studio. It seemed he went there to check on the work of Keichuu and the others. Keichuu was arrested and executed the very next day.”

“Huh...”

“Furthermore, when the emperor heard of Keichuu’s crimes, he became enraged and ordered his immediate beheading, as well as the burning of all his writings. It was he who executed Keichuu and had his writings destroyed.”

Koushun stroked his chin.　

The emperor had Keichuu killed. But why...?　

Was there a reason why Keichuu had to be killed? However, executing him by framing him for a crime seemed a very roundabout way of doing it. Personally, Koushun thought that the quickest way would be to execute him for incurring his wrath.

Well, maybe if he were a tyrant, that would be one thing.　

In reality, that wasn’t an easy thing to do. For instance, if Koushun were to randomly kill anyone who annoyed him, it would cause a huge uproar. There was no record of the fifth emperor of the Ran dynasty being a tyrant. If an emperor who normally didn’t kill his subjects in a fit of anger were to do something like that, it would surely attract attention.

He didn’t want to draw attention to it.

He wanted to settle it solely as a punishment for a crime.　

“He ordered all his copied texts to be burned...”

That’s it.

“Have you found any copies of Keichuu’s writings? I heard you were checking for writing on the reverse side.”

Shiki shook his head. “No, Your Majesty. We’ve even checked the books from before Keichuu’s time, but we have not found anything.”

“But it must be somewhere, right?”

“That’s what the ghost insists... the Raven Consort also believes it to be so.”

“I see. Then it must exist.”

Shiki blinked, taken aback. “But—”

“Perhaps we can use Jusetsu’s lost item finding skills this time. Though, she’s dealing with someone from the previous dynasty. I wonder what will happen.”

Even so, he had a feeling that Jusetsu could do something about it.

Shiki gazed upon the smiling Koushun with a somewhat confused look on his face.

When Shiki informed her that there were no books with writing on the back, Jusetsu’s hopes were dashed. What would they do now?

In times like these, it’s best to ask for advice.

“I’m going to the Winter Ministry.”

She declined Jiujiu’s eager entreaty to dress up and instead went in her usual eunuch attire. “It might be less troublesome if you dress as a consort,” Tan Kai said.

“It’s easier to move around in eunuch guise.”

“Unlike Koutou Palace, the Winter Ministry is far away. It’d be troublesome if we got hassled by officials on the way there.”

“Hassled?”

“There are some people like that, especially when it comes to eunuchs. No one would be so reckless as to mess with a consort.”

“I see.”

While it was natural for eunuchs to be present in the inner palace, that wasn’t the case in the outer court. She wondered if the two eunuchs had a bad experience serving as guards in the outer court before. Maybe it would be best not to bring them there.

“Niangniang, don’t worry about us,” Onkei quietly interjected, perhaps sensing Jusetsu’s concern. “Tan Kai, you talk too much.”

“Well, you need a plan to avoid danger beforehand, right?”

“Even if they bother us, government officials are no match for me.”

“The aftermath will be a pain if we beat them up.”

“Those who pick on people they see as weak will back off if we threaten them a little.”

“...Oh...”

When Onkei said it, it didn’t sound like a joke. Or was it a joke in the first place?

“Well then, Niangniang, let’s get you changed.”

Jiujiu ran out the other side of the curtain in high spirits. Jusetsu decided to follow Tan Kai’s advice. Jiujiu chose a burgundy robe embroidered with flowers and birds, and a deep green skirt printed with a double fish pattern. The bellflower-colored sash was chosen by Jusetsu. “You have to look like a consort,” Jiujiu said as she added an abundance of hairpins and ornaments to her hair. She even tried to add a jade-studded comb, but Jusetsu stopped her. Her head felt so heavy that she feared she couldn’t raise it.

“Now then, I’m off.”

With that, she left the palace. Such words had become commonplace recently.

Jiujiu stood in front of the door, seeing her and the others off. Ishiha was having Kougyou help him with his writing. The two looked like mother and son as they did so.

“We should just add more eunuchs and maids and move around in a procession, Niangniang,” Tan Kai said, walking behind her.

“There’s no room for that many people to live in Yamei Palace.”

“I think there are many who would like to serve Niangniang.”

“Certainly not,” Jusetsu laughed.

“I’m not joking. The number of visitors to Yamei Palace has increased, and so has the number of tributes,” Tan Kai said with a surprisingly serious expression. Come to think of it, lately, people had been bringing fruit and silk without any particular requests for her. She had been telling them that she didn’t need them and turning them away.

That’s something to think about.

Perhaps she was taking on too many requests. But she couldn’t bring herself to turn away those who came to her for help.

As she pondered what to do, she headed towards the Winter Ministry.

The Winter Ministry, on the outskirts of the imperial palace, was as deserted and desolate as ever. The cobblestones were cracked and chipped in places, and the copper lanterns were stained with blue rust. But the flags hanging from Sei’u Temple had been replaced with new ones, and the lanterns hanging from the eaves were similarly new. Incense smoke was rising from a large incense burner. It seemed that some funds had been allocated for repairs. Every corner had been swept clean, just as before, and the dust-free interior of the temple glowed refreshingly in the autumn sunlight.

 “I’m amazed that the Ministry of Revenue, rumored to be reluctant to even spend a single coin on paper, managed to come up with the money for the repairs,” she joked with Tou Senri, the Winter Minister who came out to receive her. A gentle smile graced his thin cheeks.

“It didn’t come from the ministry. His Majesty made a personal donation. We plan to repair it little by little here and there.”

I see, that’s one way to go about it, Jusetsu thought. Going through bureaucracy made everything complicated and slow. A donation would be hassle-free and quick. Koushun was still as sharp as ever when it came to these things. Maybe it was because he was so diligent. Even though he was clueless about women’s feelings.

“Please come this way.”

Senri personally invited them into the palace. His dark brown robe suited his slender, tall frame. The tail feathers of the pintail duck—also known as the white smoke—tucked into his futou hat swayed. Senri had been prone to illness, but he’d been looking healthier lately. It wasn’t because of the donation, but rather because the heat had subsided. He also seemed to be in good health. His eyes, which had looked sharp because of his frail body, had softened somewhat.

“You seem to be doing well.”

“Yes. Right now is the best time of the year,” Senri answered in a mellow voice. Despite his appearance as a shrewd and bad-tempered government official, he was actually gentle and amiable.

They were ushered into a room, where a Go board was placed on a small screen by the window. Jusetsu turned to look in that direction. “Would you like to play a game?” Senri asked.

“Well, today—” Jusetsu started to say, but changed her mind. “...I played against Koushun the other day. I’d like to hear what moves you would have made. He said that every move I thought of was no good.”

With that, Jusetsu began laying out the opening moves from the previous game on the Go board.

“So, if I play this here...”

“Wouldn’t this be better?”

“...Then what about this next move? If I play here...”

“No, you should play here.”

“...” Jusetsu put the piece down sulkily. “You’re saying the same things as Koushun.”

“Haha, how could I possibly come up with a better move than His Majesty’s? If His Majesty says so, then it’s the best move.”

“I want to come up with a move that even he wouldn’t think of.”

“Are you asking me?”

“A little bit of cheating is permitted, is it not?”

Senri laughed cheerfully. “Understood. I’ll keep it a secret from His Majesty.”

It was only natural, considering Senri was in his forties, but when they were together, Jusetsu felt quite young. And perhaps Senri was the one making her feel that way. He didn’t treat her as specially as his words might suggest. Though he called her the Raven Consort, it felt like he was treating her more like a young girl than the Raven Consort.

“I assume you had something else you wanted to ask me today?” Senri said, offering the tea that had been brought to Jusetsu. “Yes,” Jusetsu nodded and drank it. The tea served here was made with healthy ingredients for Senri’s sake. Today’s tea was fragrant and sweet. She learned that it was a mix of roasted barely, pine nuts, and jujubes.

As Jusetsu savored the unusual-flavored tea, she told him about the ghost in the library.

“So the ghost claimed that one of his copies must exist?” Senri took a sip of tea and stroked his thin chin, as if thinking.

“But when I asked the scholars at Koutou Palace to look into it, they couldn’t find any books with writing on the back. So, where else should we look? I can’t think of anything. You’re very knowledgeable, so I thought you might be able to tell me something.”

“I don’t want you to overestimate me,” Senri smiled wryly. “Though, I can think of a few possibilities. I think it was quite perceptive of you to focus on the back writing. It’s likely that even the transcriber himself couldn’t find it because it wasn’t in the form of a normal book.”

“Is there anything else?”

“There are other ways to reuse waste paper besides using it as backing paper. Scholars may not use paper for anything other than writing, but... For example, they use it as wrapping paper when storing fragile items in boxes, or as cushioning material. Or they use it to wrap medicinal ingredients. They also use it to wrap pigments for paintings.”

“I see. But that archive only contains books.”

“Is that so? In the case...” Senri thought for a moment, then looked up. ‘Perhaps it’s underlay.”

“Underlay?”

“When making a folding screen, you put paper underneath the painting to reinforce it. That’s what waste paper is used for.”

“I see. So it’s used for that too.”

Jusetsu rested her fingers on the tip of her chin. She was recalling the appearance of the archives.

“...I’m glad I came to ask you,” she smiled.

“Was I of any help?”

“Very much so.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Senri said with a smile. Talking with Senri somehow calmed her down. He was someone she could face without feeling tense.

“Raven Consort, you don’t seem to be very interested in it,” Senri said after they’d both taken a breather from drinking tea. “But there’s one thing that’s been bothering me.”

“What is it?”

“I want to know why this transcriber Keichuu was executed.”

“Yes…that’s certainly true.”

Since Jusetsu’s plan was more focused on the whereabouts of the transcript than on the reason for the false accusation, she didn’t bother to look into that. Her interest was solely in sending the ghost to paradise.

“There must have been some reason they wanted to get rid of him so quickly…”

Senri gazed out the lattice window, lost in thought. Jusetsu sipped her tea in silence.

“By the way,” he said, turning back to her. “Have you met with Hou Ichigyou?”

“No, not yet. He seems to be feeling better, though.”

Due to the matter with the golden cup and other unsettling events, she had yet to arrange a meeting.

“In that case, might I request to be present when you do meet?”

“Of course, that’s fine, but…”

“I’ve heard a little about the previous dynasty from my predecessor, Lord Gyoei, but there’s still a lot I don’t know. It was a terrible loss when the sorcerers were driven out of the castle. They had access to the inner palace, so I’m sure they know a lot of things the Winter Minister doesn’t know.”

“I thought the same.”

“I’m currently conducting my own investigation, so please wait for me.”

Senri was researching the Raven Consort, focusing on the writings of Gyoei. Jusetsu hoped he wasn’t pushing himself to work despite his frail health.

In reality, neither Senri nor Koushun had any need to make any effort for Jusetsu.

And yet...

“Thank you. ...You must take care of yourself.”

“Raven Consort, there is no need to worry. I’m not investigating this solely for your sake. Nor is it out of a sense of duty as the Winter Minister.”

“Then why?”

Senri smiled brightly. “It’s out of intellectual curiosity.”

Jusetsu found his smile infectious.

“I see. That sounds just like you.”

After returning to Yamei Palace from Senri’s place, Jusetsu wrote a letter to Koushun. She asked for a favor.

Koushun provided his response a few days later. Upon receiving the news, Jusetsu headed to Koutou Academy.

When she entered the archives, she found Koushun near the back, with Ei Sei beside him.

“You’re here.”

“Have you found it?” Jusetsu quickly approached Koushun. The folding screen that had been in the back was gone, and there was paper laid out on the table.

“These are the underlay for the folding screen that was here. I asked the artisans to remove it. They were very skilled, but because the papers were used as underlay, they were inevitably very damaged. There are some parts that are hard to read.”

“It needn’t matter if it’s illegible. The mere fact that something written has been discovered is enough.”

When Senri told her that scrap paper would be used as the underlay for folding screens, she recalled the folding screen that was here.

I hope these are Keichuu’s copies.

There were about thirty sheets of paper in total. They were yellowed and browned in places. Indeed, some of the writing had peeled off, making them illegible.

“The screen has six panels, each made of five pieces of paper joined vertically. A layer of white clay was applied as a base. That’s why they are so worn. Looking at the legible parts, the handwriting seems to be the same on all of them. They were all written by the same person.”

Jusetsu took a step back from the table and looked back. Without even needing to use a spell, a ghost suddenly appeared from behind the shelves.

It was Keichuu.

He staggered over, his head bowed. After stopping, he raised his head. A puzzled look crossed his pale face, dark circles under his eyes, before he widened his eyes. They nearly popped out of his head.

“Oh...oh...”

Groaning, Keichuu limped towards the table. He peered down at the papers, practically devouring each character. Tears gradually welled up in his eyes.

“Yes...there’s no doubt...it’s my handwriting...” a faint murmur could be heard. “So they were here.”

 Tears spilled one by one, but vanished without wetting the paper. They seemed to be absorbed into the writing. As the tears fell, Keichuu’s figure faded. Slowly, like bleeding ink, his form wavered and unraveled. Keichuu’s fingers traced the ink characters. A sigh of pleasure signalled his vanishing.

“...He seemed satisfied.”

Jusetsu walked towards the table and picked up a piece of paper. The characters were uniform in size and thickness, indicating that the brush must have been moved carefully; even the fine lines of ink could be seen between the strokes. One could even call it fussy, but the writing was neat and precise. It showed Keichuu’s determination to proceed with his work carefully and reliably.

“His calligraphy is beautiful,” Jusetsu praised sincerely. They were also words of condolence for Keichuu.

“—But Keichuu was killed because he copied this manuscript,” Koushun said, slowly gathering up the papers one by one from the table.

“What do you mean?”

“The day before Keichuu was arrested and executed, the emperor visited the studio. It was likely during that time that he noticed that Keichuu was copying texts that shouldn’t have been copied.”

“Something that shouldn’t be copied...?”

Koushun nodded. “The purpose of framing and executing Keichuu wasn’t to kill him. It was to dispose of his manuscripts.”

The emperor had all of Keichuu’s manuscripts burned...

“The emperor collected ancient documents that had lain dormant in the castle’s library and had them copied for posterity. But I believe it was the opposite.”

“What do you mean?”

“It was to dispose of anything that should not be passed down to future generations. That’s why they collected them. To begin with, those books were presented to the first emperor from all over the country. He even offered them a reward. I believe this was also to hide within the castle anything that shouldn’t be revealed to the public. There was no paper back then, and not many households owned scrolls. Whether he intended to collect them and dispose of the relevant books, or whether he failed to carry out the disposal, remains unknown. In any case, they were stored in the archives. Then, the fifth emperor resolved to dispose of them. They should have been successfully sorted out, but somehow they got mixed in with the manuscripts being copied...”

And so, they were accidentally copied.

“...If that’s the case, would it not be enough to simply dispose of the mixed-in ancient documents and their copies? There was no need for execution.”

“That would only draw attention. People would wonder what ancient texts were forbidden to copy. That was why the emperor hid the truth behind the execution. Even in the Diaries of Activity and Repose, the emperor took great care to make the sequence of events look natural. They probably mixed the copies in with the originals and burned them all together.”

Jusetsu frowned, examining the paper in her hand. Was Keichuu killed for something like this? What book is worth more than a human life?

“Even though they executed the innocent Keichuu on false charges, these scrap papers remained. They were destined to be left behind.”

Koushun placed the collected papers back on the table and pointed to the words on them. Jusetsu gasped as she looked at them.

“The Sea Turtle”

“Wulian Niangniang”

The papers were dirty and most of the writing was illegible, but two words popped out. “Sea Turtle”—perhaps referring to the Sea Turtle God. Widely worshipped in ancient times, it fell into decline, but has now regained power. This god was also worshipped by the Eight Truths.

“I will have this thoroughly investigated. I don’t know how much we can learn from these thirty pages, but we have no choice but to proceed. –For Keichuu’s sake.”

Jusetsu closed her eyes, then opened them again. “In that case, we cannot simply let others investigate it. Ask Senri.”

“The Winter Minister?”

“Like you, Senri also suspected the reasoning for Keichuu’s execution. As for Wulian Niangniang, it would be best to have the Winter Minister investigate.”

Koushun nodded slightly and made his decision. “I will do so.” Jusetsu looked at the papers again.

What on earth was written there?

Leaving Jusetsu to deliver the papers to Senri, Koushun returned to the inner court.

He entered a room in Gyokou Hall, sat down in a chair, and exhaled. Ei Sei prepared tea for him. He closed his eyes and waited as the water began to boil and the aroma of tea wafted through the air.

Suddenly, he thought he heard the sound of waves, so he opened his eyes.

“…Sei, the shell.”

“Yes, sir.”

Ei Sei reverently brought a giant conch shell on a brocade from the cupboard and placed it on a tray.

The shell was a deep dark color. It shimmered with iridescent hues depending on the angle, and its rarity led to it being presented to the emperor from Rouko in Gei Province. The giant sea conch was said to be a divine messenger that created the Sea Mirages—the mists at the edges of the sea.

It is, in fact, a divine messenger.

Koushun listened carefully. He called out a name.

“Owl.”

“The Summer King. Well, well, it seems my voice finally reached you.”

“That’s what I wanted to say. Why aren’t you communicating with me more?”

“Because I’m a prisoner. Don’t be ridiculous. And the situation is complicated. Was there something you needed?”

“Of course. There’s a lot we don’t understand.”

“There’s only so much I can say at one time. There are prison guards here. Keep it brief.”

Half-amused at his presumptuousness, Koushun pondered his words. What should he ask first?

“Who is the Great Sea Turtle God?”

“Great Sea Turtle?” The answer came in a puzzled tone, followed by a short pause. “Sea Turtle…is that the one who was torn apart and cast away from the Palace of Seclusion?”

That was the god who became the land of Shou.

“No. It’s a god said to have been born from that god.”

The Turtle God was said to have been formed from the dismembered and washed-up corpse of the Great Sea Turtle God.

“You mean the White Turtle? I don’t know much about it.”

“Why don’t you know?”

“Because I’m not from the Palace of Seclusion. I don’t know anything about those born there.”

“What… But the Great Sea Turtle God…”

“I can’t do everything, and I don’t know everything. I believe I’ve said that before. When I sent my tsukaibe, just like this sea conch, there were waves when interfering with your side. Sometimes things are crystal clear, other times they don’t go smoothly. I know the White Turtle and the Raven didn’t get along. But honestly, there’s no one over there we get along with. Everyone’s at each other’s throats—”

There was another long pause.

“No…wait. Right, that’s…”

Koushun could hear the sound of waves. The Owl’s voice sounded distant.

“Owl?”

“Beware the White Turtle. It demands a sacrifice.”

“A sacrifice?”

“A young girl… So…”

The Owl’s voice grew distant like the ebbing tide. It faded away.

It demands a sacrifice.

Despite the Owl’s fading voice, those words, like a faint prophecy, never left Koushun’s ears.

Hakurai stepped onto shore and sat on a piece of driftwood. Then, he unfolded a letter. It was from the capital—from Chouyou.

Just as Chouyou had said, life on Bahuang Island was comfortable, with delicious seafood and an abundance of fruit. Being one-eyed didn’t pose much of a problem. He did have trouble judging the distance of objects for a while, though.

Not only was Chouyou’s reward far greater than Hakurai had expected, but he had even provided him with a place to hide, which was quite generous. Of course, it was also a subtle hint that Chouyou expected his continued assistance.

Chouyou had set his sights on Hakurai, the leader of the Eight Truths, which was based in Ga Province, and sent Hakurai to his uncle’s side. His aim was to lure his uncle into self-destruction. The easily-persuaded uncle followed Hakurai’s advice and fell into ruin.

Hakurai didn’t know much about Chouyou, and Chouyou didn’t know everything about Hakurai. They were both convenient allies.

Wulian Niangniang is weakening.

Through Injou, he heard many things about Wulian Niangniang and the Raven Consort from Hakumyoushi—the Great Sea Turtle God. If Wulian Niangniang was weak, then surely the Raven Consort had no further value. That was what Hakurai assumed. He didn’t know what Chouyou thought when he heard that.

However...

Hakurai pressed his left eyelid. It was covered with cloth. It was an injury he received after the Raven Consort reversed his curse upon him. He never expected that to happen, but since he was still alive after being sent a curse meant to take a life, perhaps it was a sign that the Raven Consort’s power was indeed waning.

Hakurai read the letter with his remaining right eye. He knew that Chouyou had gone to the capital, but he hadn’t been told his purpose. He had thought it was more than just to present silkworm eggs. It seemed that was the case.

Come to the capital, the letter said. It wasn’t an order. But Chouyou knew Hakurai wouldn’t refuse. This island hideout was prepared by him, after all.

If it were just me, I could handle being kicked out of here, but...

Hakurai glanced at the shore. Injou was tirelessly picking up shells. The ones she had collected had already piled up around the house.

He exhaled and tucked the letter back into his pocket. Other than a request to come to the capital, Chouyou hadn’t written anything else.

He stood up and approached the water’s edge.

“It’s time to head home.”

Injou turned to face him. She was squatting, washing the shells in seawater.

“There weren’t many good ones today.”

With a disappointed look on her face, Injou showed him the shells in her palms.

“Aren’t all the good ones gone because you pick them up every day?”

“Shells wash up every day. They never run out,” Injou’s cheeks puffed out in displeasure. What a child, Hakurai thought.

In Rouko, Injou’s hometown, children made a living by selling seashells in the inn towns. Though Injou was told she didn’t need to pick shells any more, perhaps because it was a habit, she refused to stop.

“Well, maybe some good shells will wash up tomorrow.”

With this, Injou smiled with satisfaction.

Ah, that’s right. I have to go to the capital.

He couldn’t leave Injou alone. But travelling with a child would be a hassle.

“In...”

Just as Hakurai was about to explain that they were going to the capital, he heard the loud, excited shouting of children coming from the pier to the left. He turned in that direction and saw boys between the ages of ten to twelve or thirteen running around.

The pier was a crude structure made of pieces of wood tied together with cords. It had a small boat tied to it. Boys were running on the sandy beach before it. No, that wasn’t accurate. It seemed that the other boys had stolen one boy’s pouch and were making fun of him. The pouch appeared to contain coins. The sound of their jingling could be heard every time the pouch was tossed into the air.

The boy was about twelve years old, tanned and thin but strong-looking. He glared angrily at the boy holding his pouch. His clothes and hairstyle were different from the other boys. He wasn’t a child from this island.

A sea nomad, perhaps?

Hakurai turned his gaze out to sea. Several huts had been built on the sea, and small boats rocked on the waves. These were sea nomads, with no permanent settlement, moving from shore to shore. Fishing and sorcery were their livelihoods, and they were feared and shunned by those on land. But in this remote area, where there were hardly any doctors, their sorcery was a reliable tool. Although they called it sorcery, what they mostly used was knowledge of medicine and treatment—in other words, medical science. Since ancient times, doctors were called shamans, and sorcery and medicine were on the same path. In remote areas, this distinction still didn’t exist. These shamans told fortunes, administered medicine along with spells, and performed secret rituals.

Of course, there were many tribes among the sea nomads, and some of them truly practiced sorcery alone, and there were powerful sorcerers among them. Such people could sometimes bring misfortune...

With an animalistic growl, the sea nomad boy leapt at the boy holding his pouch. He quickly grabbed it and, with his other hand, punched the boy’s face with all his might. A cry rang out. The other boys rushed over, punching and kicking him, but the sea nomad boy didn’t stop.

When it’s one against many, the standard rule is to inflict pain on the strongest opponent quickly and thoroughly.

One should not pay attention to the others. If the strongest among them was defeated, they would lose their will to fight.

“That kid’s strong, huh?”

Injou watched the fight blankly. The girl generally didn’t seem to care about her surroundings. All she cared about were shells and her hometown.

Hakurai walked towards the boys. Though the sea nomad boy was strong, he was outnumbered and was running out of strength. The children, lacking restraint, might well beat him to death if they weren’t careful.

It’s a pain, but I’d hate to leave him to die.

“Stop it.”

With those few words, Hakurai grabbed the young sea nomad’s arm and pulled him out of the crowd. The boys, alarmed by the presence of an adult, drew their fists back. “It’s the sorcerer from the cape!” they exclaimed when they looked up at his face and stepped back.

“Misfortune will befall you if you bother with strangers. Didn’t your parents tell you that?”

Hakurai glared at the boys’ faces one by one. All of them paled. The youngest-looking boy at the back jumped up and ran away, and the others also ran in a panic.

Hakurai looked down at the sea nomad boy. He clutched his drawstring pouch and glared up at Hakurai. His hair, browned by the sea breeze and sunlight, was tied loosely in the back. He was wearing a linen upper garment with tight sleeves, and the cuffs of his short loose trousers were rolled up. He was barefoot. Around his ankles were thin cords with ornaments made from carved shells attached to loops. These were accessories commonly worn by sea nomads. The shape of the shells varied depending on the tribe, and the way the cords were tied also differed. The tribal chief often wore bracelets made from large conches and necklaces made from luminescent shells.

Suddenly, the boy’s gaze softened. His eyes were fixed on Hakurai’s wrist, which was gripping his arm.

“You’re also a haiyenzi, aren’t you? What tribe? I’m from the Dako tribe.”

The sea nomads called themselves “haiyenzi.” They were swallows that travelled freely across the sea.

Around Hakurai’s wrist was a cord decorated with diamond-shaped shells. He let go of the boy and lowered the sleeve of his jacket.

“My tribe is long gone. You wouldn’t know it even if you heard its name.”

Why did he answer that way? Hakurai had never revealed his personal circumstances to anyone. And why had he intervened in the boys’ quarrel, even though it was such a hassle? Normally, he would have just left them alone.

Maybe it was because they were compatriots. As fellow haiyenzi...

Hakurai jerked his chin toward the boat. “Hurry back to the others. You’d be better off moving to another shore.”

Coming into conflict with landfolk would only lead to trouble. The boy nodded and ran towards the boat. He skillfully maneuvered the oars, and before one knew it, the boat was heading out to sea. As Hakurai watched, he unconsciously touched his wrist. He gently stroked the shell ornaments there with his fingertips.

Previous || Index || Next

A man was kneeling in front of the throne. He was a man in his forties, with a well-trained body and a solemn look. One would think at first glance that he was a military commander. 

He was the head of the Saname clan, Chouyou. 

After permission was granted for him to raise his head, Chouyou spoke his greetings in a clear, sonorous voice. Koushun observed him as he listened from his throne. 

His gaze was as sharp as a sword that could cut bone in two with a single swing. His demeanor was solemn, and there was not the slightest hint of friendliness in his stern appearance. However, it seemed that if he smiled even slightly, he would be able to captivate people to an astonishing degree. 

Two young men were behind Chouyou. They were his sons. One was around Koushun’s age, and the other was just shy of his twentieth birthday. They both resembled Chouyou, but the older son lacked the sternness of his father and rather had the appearance of a sophisticated writer or artist, and the younger son had an unruly, strong-willed look in his eyes. 

“This time, I have brought you the finest silkworm eggs of our stock.” 

At Chouyou’s words, his servant respectfully held up a tray. It held a piece of paper that had what looked like plant seeds stuck to it. Those were silkworm eggs. They were sticky like glue, so if they were laid on paper, they would naturally stick to it. 

The eggs placed on the tray were only a part of the offering, and the rest were taken to the imperial silkworm room. When the eggs hatched in spring after hibernating during winter there, the selective breeding trials would begin. 

If they could breed silkworms that spouted stronger, more beautiful thread, they would be invaluable assets to Shou. Though it would be a blow to the Sanames, who had made their fortune from these silkworms. 

Koushun wondered what Chouyou thought about having his silkworms that he worked hard to improve over so many years snatched away from him. Did he expect that things would go this far when he drove his uncle to self-destruction? 

He probably did. 

Koushun was still unable to gauge the true intentions of the man named Saname Chouyou, who distanced himself from court and didn’t take part in politics, yet exerted a hidden power over Ga Province. 

Koushun kept observing Chouyou’s expression, but couldn’t see his true feelings. 

“…You’ve undertaken a long journey to arrive here. You may ease your fatigue at Samon Palace.” 

After speaking those formal words, Koushun left the room. Thinking that his old-fashioned wording was just like how Jusetsu would speak, he felt a little amused. 

It was settled that Chouyou’s group would stay at Samon Palace, a villa located inside the imperial palace. During their stay, Koushun intended to listen to him talk about silkworm raising and Ga Province. If they exchanged opinions, Chouyou’s true feelings would become clear to some extent. 

As Koushun was being swayed inside the palanquin that took him back to the inner court, he wondered if he had to go visit the Crane Consort to tell her of Chouyou’s arrival. 

On a certain day, when the morning mist was thick, one of the eunuchs of the Interior Ministry hadn’t arrived at his post on time, so a fellow eunuch went to his dormitory room to get him. 

The colleague, who opened the door and stepped into the room, screamed and stumbled out as soon as he looked inside. 

Inside the room, the eunuch was lying on the floor, bleeding from his head, his eyes wide open. He was dead. 

“Niangniang, the rice cakes are ready.” 

Jiujiu brought over a plate of rice cakes. They were homemade by her, thinly baked with green onions. Jiujiu was the daughter of a rice cake shop, so she was a master at making them. She could make a lot at once and they were perfect for snacks, so after the Yamei Palace began to attract more people—such as Ishiha and Tan Kai—she started making them more often together with Kougyou and the old maid Keishi. 

After they sent Ishiha to fetch Onkei and Tan Kai, they all gathered in the room to eat. Keishi was the only one who refused to set foot in this room. It had been that way ever since she served Reijou, and it seemed she had no intention of changing that now. The sullen old woman always kept her lips tightly pressed together, but she was neither angry nor in a bad mood—so she told Ishiha, who looked terrified and wondered if he had done something to upset her. Keishi was considerate of him in that way. Perhaps he made her recall when Jusetsu first came to Yamei Palace. She gave Ishiha extra meat because of his skinniness. 

Previously, there had only been two chairs in the room, but now they brought in more from the other rooms. Sometimes, Jusetsu even used the stool in her bedroom, something that would have been unthinkable when she was living with Reijou. 

The door facing the outer corridor was open, filling the room with bright sunlight. When they were all gathered together, Tan Kai was the loudest, often getting into arguments with Jiujiu. Onkei tried to mediate between them at first, but lately he grew tired of it and just left them alone. 

“I want rice cakes with meat in it. The kind with ground meat.” 

“You don’t have to eat it if you’re going to complain.” 

“I’m not complaining, I’m requesting. Some meat is better than none, obviously. Right, Niangniang?” 

“I like these rice cakes better.” 

The perfectly toasted rice cakes were crispy and fragrant on the outside, but chewy inside with a nice green onion flavor. The minced meat rice cakes were also delicious, though a bit heavy on the stomach. 

“Mister Tan Kai, you’re so underhanded, always trying to get Niangniang on your side like that. Right, Niangniang?” 

“You’re doing it too!” 

Jusetsu, taking bites of her rice cake, watched the two of them quietly. At some point, Onkei would drag Tan Kai outside without a word. 

--Or so she thought. 

Just when the last of the rice cakes disappeared from the plate, Xingxing suddenly started to rampage. At first, Jusetsu thought it was throwing a fit because it hadn’t been given any cakes, but that didn’t seem to be the case. There was a presence outside the palace. It wasn’t like the usual people that visited Yamei Palace—it was a crowd. At the sound of footsteps, Onkei and Tan Kai’s expressions stiffened. Without either of them saying anything, they quickly headed out the door. 

The two stopped short as soon as they stepped outside. Bewilderment radiated from their backs. 

“What is the matter?” 

Jusetsu approached them. Onkei stepped aside to make way for her. Looking ahead, she saw a group of people walking along the cobblestones that had been laid out all the way to the steps. 

There were about ten of them. They were all eunuchs, wearing blue-gray robes and carrying swords at their hips. 

They were the Bridles. (1) They were allowed to carry swords and were part of an organization directly under the emperor that cracked down on crimes within the inner palace. 

Fundamentally, the inner palace was under the jurisdiction of the empress, and as there wasn’t one currently, it was left in the care of the highest-ranking consort, the Duck Consort Kajou. However, she didn’t have the authority to investigate and prosecute serious crimes. In light of the example of the former empress dowager, who had seized all power and abused it to the fullest, her authority was reduced. The Bridles were created in its place, and they reported directly to the emperor. 

In other words, some of the empress’s powers were given to the emperor. 

What could the Bridles possibly be here for? 

The group stopped just before the stairs and looked up at Jusetsu. A eunuch, likely their superior, stepped forward. He was handsome, but possessed the sharpness typical of a strong Bridle officer. His complexion was poor, perhaps from fatigue, and his eyes were bloodshot. He got onto his knees and bowed. The eunuchs behind him followed suit. 

“We ask you to pardon our rudeness, Raven Consort.” 

He was apologizing for their rudeness in arriving without any prior notice. Visiting a consort’s palace required prior notice. However, as an organization directly under the emperor, they were permitted to bypass this formality. It was merely a formality. 

“What business do the Bridles have here?” 

“Yes,” the eunuch raised his head and stood up. “Raven Consort, are you aware that a eunuch from the Ministry of Internal Affairs was found murdered in his lodgings this morning?”  

He asked Jusetsu that question in a firm tone. 

A eunuch from the Ministry of Internal Affairs was murdered? 

There was no way Jusetsu could know. She didn’t know about the other consorts, but the ministry was far from Yamei Palace and had no connection to it. Behind Jusetsu, Jiujiu and the others were watching the situation with bated breath, wondering what was going. 

“I knew not,” Jusetsu answered simply. The eunuch who had asked her didn’t move an inch. 

“Tan Kai, a eunuch attached to Yamei Palace, is suspected of murder in this incident. Therefore, we request that you hand him over to us.” 

Did he say Tan Kai? 

“Huh?” The person in question, Tan Kai, exclaimed.  

For a moment, Jusetsu didn’t know how to respond. This was completely unexpected. 

“...I do not understand what you are saying. How did you come to this conclusion?” 

“The murdered eunuch was named Bokuken. –I believe you recognize this name, Tan Kai.”  

The Bridle eunuch fixed his eyes sharply on Tan Kai, whose usually carefree expression suddenly hardened. 

“You know this person?” Jusetsu asked him, but he pursed his lips and refused to answer. The answer came from the Bridle eunuch. 

“He was the former steward who served Tan Kai’s family.” 

“Steward...” 

“It means the head servant who manages the household.” 

So, Tan Kai’s household was large enough to employ a head servant. 

“You don’t know anything about Tan Kai, do you, Raven Consort?” The Bridle eunuch smiled with pity, Tan Kai had been a member of the Bridles until recently, but this eunuch harbored no sympathy for him. 

Jusetsu glared at him coldly. “I don’t even know your name.” 

“Pardon me. I am the vice commander of the Bridles. My family name is Shicchou, and my given name is Kon.” 

“Shicchou Kon. Even if the murdered eunuch was a servant in Tan Kai’s household, that alone wouldn’t be reason enough for Tan Kai to kill him.” 

“You are correct, Raven Consort,” he replied curtly. “You may not know this, but Tan Kai’s family was a distinguished and prestigious family with a long history and lands in U Province since ancient times. The family began to decline gradually during his grandfather’s generation and fell into ruin by his father’s time. The main reason was that his father repeatedly failed the court examinations, blocking his path to becoming a high-ranking official. Their fortunes dwindled day by day, and the number of servants decreased one by one... Even a distinguished old family faces such hardships these days. Tan Kai was a capable man, so if only his family had last that long. But his father dabbled in unfamiliar business dealings and ended up bankrupt.” 

Shicchou Kon spoke at length. He was quite knowledgeable about this. Whether he noticed Jusetsu’s frown or not, he continued. 

“In situations like these, servants are supposed to support their master, but the servants of the Tan household were not so loyal. They took all their valuables and abandoned their master. Not a single one of them remained. Terrible, isn’t it?” Shicchou Kon said, glancing at Tan Kai. Tan Kai’s face was void of expression. He simply gazed calmly ahead. 

“Among them, it was the steward, Bokuken, who stole the family heirloom—a golden cup. It was said to be priceless. Losing it was the greatest blow to the Tan family. Tan Kai’s father died of illness in his despair, his mother hanged herself, and their only son, Tan Kai, was sold into slavery. It wasn’t only his household, but his entire clan who was scattered in a similar state. The noble family ceased to exist after that. I don’t know what path Tan Kai took after being sold, but he eventually became part of a band of thieves.”  

Shicchou Kon let out a sigh.  

“Well, Raven Consort? The person who stole his family heirloom is in the very same inner palace as him. It’s an ironic twist of fate, but the only destinations for dregs are the executioner’s block or eunuchhood. After all, if it weren’t so, no one would ever choose to become a eunuch.” 

Despite being a eunuch himself, Shicchou Kon had a deep disdain for them. It was true that most eunuchs were desperate men or those whose death sentences were reduced by one degree. Without beauty or talent, they would spend their entire life as low-ranking eunuchs. 

“It wouldn’t be strange for Tan Kai to seek revenge against Bokuken.” 

Jusetsu snorted.  

“It is strange. You said earlier that Tan Kai is a capable man. If so, he would not make any foolish moves that would arouse suspicion. Are you planning to arrest my eunuch on such flimsy grounds?” She glared at Kon head-on. “Leave. I won’t hand over Tan Kai.” 

Kon’s brow furrowed slightly. His face was smooth and possessed well-defined features. His pale skin still looked wan. Was it from the fatigue of this case, or was it simply his constitution? 

“...I will report this matter to Attendant Ei. It will surely reach Dajia as well.” 

That was a parting shot. Kon turned on his heel and walked away. Or so they thought, as he stopped and turned back as though he had remembered something. 

“Raven Consort. You don’t seem to know what kind of person Tan Kai is. He was arrested for breaking into an estate and killing a female slave. He is, at the end of the day, a murderer. If you’re going to be around him, I’d advise you to be very careful.” 

Murder? 

Seeming satisfied that a flicker of surprise had spread among Jusetsu and the others, Kon finally departed from the Yamei Palace, this time accompanied by his eunuchs. 

As soon as they left, Jiujiu let out a deep exhale. 

“That was so scary...! Those Bridles are really terrifying, aren’t they?” 

“They were carrying swords, after all.” Even Jusetsu would be wary of people like that. 

“But you were amazing, Niangniang. To think they’d try to drag away mister Tan Kai like that—it’s outrageous. And that Shicchou fellow was so unpleasant.” 

Jiujiu was furious. Even though she and Tan Kai were usually at odds, Jusetsu thought that it was just like her to angry at Shicchou Kon’s behavior rather than being afraid of Tan Kai’s alleged crimes as reported by others. 

“I’ve heard that Vice Commander Shicchou is extremely strict and merciless,” Onkei said. “He is very serious and would never do anything reckless, but he seems a bit too eager in this case. Tan Kai, you must have annoyed that vice commander, didn’t you?” 

Tan Kai frowned, looking displeased. It was rare to see him make such a face. “Who knows,” he said in a dismissive tone. 

“Tan--” Onkei said reproachfully, but Tan Kai ignored him and went to stand in front of Jusetsu. 

“Niangniang. Why did you defend me? It’ll only cause trouble for you.” 

“This is Yamei Palace. What displeases shall not be permitted. The rules and customs of the inner palace hold no sway here.” 

“That’s not what I mean. I—if I truly killed Bokuken, what would you do? Don’t you doubt me even a little?” 

“I do not.” 

Tan Kai looked at her in utter disbelief. “That’s because you don’t know me.” 

“Whether I know you or not, it matters not. How I judge you is my own business. And I have no desire to hand you over to them.” 

He stared at her fixedly for a moment.  

“Even if I’m a murderer?” 

“Yes.” Jusetsu answered reflexively. Shicchou Kon claimed that Tan Kai killed a female slave. Whether that was true or not, Jusetsu couldn’t determine. What she knew was only the Tan Kai before her eyes at this moment. 

Tan Kai looked as if he were clenching his back teeth. He turned around and walked down the steps. Even when Onkei called his name, he didn’t look back. 

When night fell, someone visited Yamei Palace. It wasn’t someone with a request for the Raven Consort, nor was it Koushun. 

“I heard you sent the Bridles away.” 

It was Ei Sei. 

“...So what if I did?” Jusetsu turned her face away. “Did you come all this way just to complain? On your own?” 

Ei Sei glared at her with his beautiful eyes.  “Dajia is lenient with you, so I came alone. The Bridles receive their orders directly from Dajia. You cannot disregard them. If there is anything you disagree with, use the proper channels to protest. What do you think you’re doing, sending them away without cause?” 

His nagging was unbearable. He was the only one who scolded Jusetsu like this. As he said, Koushun was too lenient with her. 

“It was not without cause. That vice commander of the Bridles...Shicchou Kon was acting tyrannically. He tried to arrest Tan Kai on flimsy grounds.” 

“He wasn’t trying to arrest him—he was just trying to talk to him.” 

“How do you know? Once they drag someone away, they’ll torture him into confessing, won’t they?” 

“They won’t do such a thing. Although. I also think it’s premature to question Tan Kai at this point. I already told Shicchou that. Unless new evidence surfaces, Tan Kai will not be taken in.” 

“Oh, is that so.” 

Jusetsu thought that he should have said that first. Ei Sei’s face turned sour, perhaps sensing her thoughts. 

“That matter and your insistence on getting your way are separate issues. Reflect on your actions.” 

Jusetsu was annoyed. “Why should I be the one to reflect?” 

“Don’t sulk. Acting out of sentiment is unwise. It won’t serve you well.” Ei Sei narrowed his eyes slightly as he looked at her. “Compassion can sometimes cloud one’s judgment.” 

“...I have no desire to be righteous. The righteousness of the outside world, in particular, has nothing to do with me. It does not benefit me in any way.” 

Ei Sei’s brow furrowed. 

“You’ll destroy yourself.” 

The voice that spoke those words sounded as though it truly cared Jusetsu. 

Ei Sei let out a sigh and left the palace. Jusetsu went to the top of the steps and watched the light fade into the distance. 

“Niangniang.” 

A voice called from the darkness, and Jusetsu turned towards it. It was Onkei’s voice. 

“Why did Attendant Ei...” 

It was rare for Onkei to ask about these matters. He seemed to be also concerned about the Bridles. 

“He only gave me a nagging. Even Ei Sei said it’s too early to interrogate Tan Kai now. Besides, the Bridles most likely won't come again. --But that man truly is a pain in the neck.” 

The last part was more like a muttered complaint. Onkei merely responded with a faint smile. Looking at him, Jusetsu recalled Ei Sei’s admonition. 

“You’ll destroy yourself.” 

“...For example, even if you killed someone and fled this place, I will not hand you over to the Bridles.” When she blurted out the thoughts floating in her mind, Onkei’s eyes widened in shock. 

“I...don’t care about righteousness.” 

Jusetsu had gained something far more important than that. She understood now. One shouldn’t create anything precious, because then one would lose the ability to choose the right path. 

Then, there was no point to righteousness, wasn’t there? 

“Will I destroy myself?” 

Her murmur faded into the darkness of the night. 

“Niangniang.” Onkei called to her in a hushed voice and knelt down. He took her hand, as though offering a prayer, and lowered his face. 

“When you perish, I shall accompany you.” 

Jusetsu looked down at him and let out a soft laugh. 

“Don’t say foolish things.” 

She grasped Onkei’s hand and helped him stand. She could feel the warmth in his hand. I have to protect them, she thought. Jusetsu was the master of Onkei and the others. As their master, she must protect them. 

She realized one thing. 

In order to avoid destruction, all you had to do was turn your wrong path into the correct one. 

“I will evoke the murdered Bokuken.” 

Jusetsu declared as soon as breakfast was over the next morning. 

“Evoke?” Jiujiu asked in confusion. 

“Summoning his soul. I can only do it once.” 

“Oh--is that the same thing you did for Hua-niangniang?” 

She was referring to the time she tried to summon Kajou’s deceased lover. In the end, she couldn’t do it. 

Jusetsu nodded. 

“If we ask him directly, we will immediately know who killed him.” 

I should have done that from the beginning, when the Bridles came. 

Jusetsu told Jiujiu to get Tan Kai. While she waited, she got out the inkstone and brush from the cupboard and got them ready. The inkstone was set on a rosewood base inlaid with ivory and jade, the sparrow-head brush was given to her by Koushun, and the boat-shaped inkstick was of good-quality. 

Sometimes, Jusetsu felt the urge to summon Reijou’s soul. However, knowing she could only do it once, she couldn’t do it. Reijou had also warned her not to do so unless it was absolutely necessary. Though Jusetsu had already gone against every single one of her warnings. 

Tan Kai arrived immediately. His expression had been stiff since yesterday. 

Jusetsu had Jiujiu leave, leaving only Tan Kai in the room. She told him that she would be performing an evocation. After confirming Bokuken’s name, she began grinding ink on the inkstone. 

“Why are you going that far...” Tan Kai was confused.  

Jusetsu picked up her brush and dipped it in ink. 

“It’s so that my actions will be proven correct.” 

She was going to prove that Tan Kai wasn’t guilty. It was Jusetsu who chased away the Bridles. Bearing that much responsibility, she had no room for complaint. 

Jusetsu wrote Bokuken’s name on a piece of paper shaped like a lotus flower and placed it on a silver plate. She pulled a flower from her tied-up hair and blew on it. 

The flower dissolved like smoke and drifted onto the plate. When it touched the paper, it burst into pale pink flames. The paper burned up in an instant, but instead of turning into ashes, it merged with the flames and quickly turned into smoke. The smoke hung in the air like mist, obscuring their vision. Jusetsu reached into the mist. 

She moved her fingers as though reeling in a thread and searched for the whereabouts of the soul. Suddenly, her fingertips came into contact with something cold. It was soft, but gradually began to take on a firm shape. Jusetsu gripped the hand tightly. The cold hand gripped hers in return. 

Jusetsu let out a breath. She stood up and slowly stepped back. At the same time, she pulled the soul out of the mist with her hand. 

A person appeared. It was a eunuch in his forties, perhaps fifties, wearing a light gray robe. He had a pale face with prominent cheekbones and dry skin. He lowered his sunken eyes, and his back was stooped limply. Jusetsu heard Tan Kai gasp. 

“--Bokuken.” Jusetsu called his name. The eunuch looked up, startled. 

“Who is calling me?” he asked in a hoarse voice. 

“I am the Raven Consort. Look this way.” 

Bokuken’s vacant eyes wandered for a moment before fixing their gaze on Jusetsu. “Ah...” he let out what sounded like a sigh.  

“I summoned your spirit. Do you understand that you are dead?” 

Bokuken hung his head. “Yes,” he answered faintly. 

“Were you murdered?” 

“I remember being hit...” Bokuken spoke slowly. “I fell down and couldn’t move... It was so cold, I felt like I was freezing to death... I suppose that’s how I died.” 

He let out another deep sigh of sadness. 

“The curse of the golden cup was real after all.” 

“What?” Jusetsu reacted to the word “curse.” 

“The golden cup... When I laid my eyes upon it at my master’s house, I desperately wanted to have it. It was surprisingly thin and felt as light as a feather in my hand, with intricate floral patterns carved all over it. Before I knew it, I had it tucked away in my pocket. I then ran away from my master’s house. I knew it was a family heirloom...and that it was cursed.” 

“What is this curse?” 

“It is said that it brings misfortune to its owner. That is how it changed hands many times. In the end, my master’s family fell into ruin, and I died. Even after I was reduced to being a eunuch, I couldn’t let it go. I gazed at it every night. That night as well--” 

“The night you were killed?” 

“I had hidden the golden cup under my bed. Every night, I would take it out and stare at it, feeling a mixture of regret for stealing it from my master’s home and still being captivated by its beauty... That night, as I was staring at it, I was suddenly struck on the head from behind. I was so mesmerized by the cup that I didn’t hear the door opening. The person who hit me picked up the cup and ran away...” 

“Wait,” Jusetsu said. “You were hit from behind. Does that mean you don’t know who hit you?” 

“I do not. As I lay there, all I could vaguely make out was the fluttering robes of my assailant as they ran away. They were wearing pale gray robes like me.” 

Pale gray robes were worn by low-ranking eunuchs. The higher the rank, the darker the gray. Tan Kai still wore his Bridle robes, which were a greyish-blue. Onkei’s were dull lead, and Ei Sei wore iron gray robes. 

If they were pale gray, then the murderer wasn’t Tan Kai. But she had no way of refuting it if they say he snuck in disguised as a low-ranking eunuch. 

I was too naive, thinking everything will be revealed if I questioned the victim.  

No, wait, she thought. The murderer stole the golden cup. Then—. 

“My punishment has been meted out,” Bokuken continued. “My sin was betraying my master and stealing his golden cup. I am deeply sorry to Master Tan, as well as to the mistress and the young master.” 

I’m sorry, I’m sorry... As he repeated these words, Bokuken wept bitterly. Sensing this was the end, Jusetsu let go of his hand. His figure grew hazy, drawn into the mist. Jusetsu blew softly into it, and it dispersed, melting away as it vanished. 

“...A master can only be a master by fulfilling his duties. Bokuken didn’t betray my father. My father abandoned his duties as master. He threw everything away and ruined our household. He was the one who betrayed us. That golden cup wasn’t stolen—it was given to Bokuken in place of his unpaid wages.” 

Tan Kai stared blankly at the spot where Bokuken had stood. 

“I don’t hate Bokuken. He often played with me when I was a child. He was the one servant who stayed until the very end. If I hate anyone, it’s my father—and myself. I escaped from the fate of being sold and bought, destined to become some depraved rich man’s plaything. Then, a bandit leader took me in... Haha, looking back now, it was a wonder I survived.” 

He let out a dry laugh. Then, he pressed his hand against his forehead. 

“Niangniang... Because of my father’s debts, my entire clan was left destitute. It wasn’t just me. I spent nearly three years as a bandit, and the last place I broke into was the mansion of a wealthy farmer. We tied up everyone in the mansion, searched the storehouse, and took only the valuable items. We never lingered. Speed was our selling point. That night, I was about to make a quick getaway as well. My downfall was peeking into the barn. I thought...I heard a voice. In a corner of the barn, piled with farm tools and straw, a woman was crouching there. It was a moonlit night, and the light of the moon illuminated her. As I approached, I saw her crouching on a straw mat. Her left leg was shackled and chained to something. She was a slave—a house slave. She was only wearing a single, filthy linen robe, and her body was covered in wounds. Not the kind from farm labor. They were old wounds, festering and reeking. Just imagining what that young woman had endured made me sick to my stomach. I broke the chain with my sword scabbard and told her to run and escape in the midst of the chaos of bandits breaking in. Then, the woman looked up and stared at me.” 

Tan Kai’s voice shook. His face was pale. Jusetsu hesitated to speak, but then he opened his mouth again. 

“The woman’s face was emaciated and swollen from being beaten, and only a shadow of her face remained. It was my cousin. My cousin...two years older than me.” Tan Kai covered his eyes with his hands. “I was speechless. It probably lasted only a moment. My cousin drew my sword and slid the blade across her own throat. A tremendous amount of blood spurted out, and she collapsed like a stick.” 

Jusetsu furrowed her brows, feeling as though the blood was spurting right before her eyes. She noticed that Tan Kai was trembling slightly and helped him sit in a chair. 

“Chained up in that place, my cousin couldn’t even die. I don’t know how long she suffered pain worse than death. If she hadn’t been a member of the Tan clan, it wouldn’t have happened. There wasn’t anything I could do.” 

Tan Kai was trembling. A deep rage and sorrow that had no outlet were engulfing him. Jusetsu stroked his back. She understood the pain he felt as he confessed that he couldn’t do anything. Jusetsu felt the same way. She couldn’t do anything for her mother. 

“...So, you were arrested and now burdened with the crime of murder you didn’t commit?” 

“I didn’t care.” 

“You considered it punishment, then?” 

Tan Kai raised his head and looked at her. He looked confused as to how she could have known. 

“I’ve felt the same way as you for a long time...though I feel a little differently now.” 

She thought her suffering as the Raven Consort was punishment for abandoning her mother to her death. But that would be disregarding her mother’s feelings. 

It’s much easier to blame yourself. 

Because that was where injustice ended. 

“Is that why you were so apathetic this time? Did you think you deserved to be punished for a false accusation?” 

“...Yes.” 

“You idiot.” Jusetsu slapped him on the back. Tan Kai’s eyes widened in surprise. “I won’t forgive you.” 

She quickly headed for the door. Once outside, she called out to Onkei. He immediately arrived from behind the palace. 

“I want to go to Bokuken’s lodgings. Show me the way.” 

“Yes.” 

Onkei started walking ahead of her. Tan Kai emerged from the palace, flustered. 

“Niangniang—” 

Jusetsu stopped in her tracks and turned around. Words suddenly crossed her mind. 

Save yourself, who was cherished by Reijou, with your own hands. 

Those were Koushun’s words. They seeped into Jusetsu’s heart like warm water and stayed there for a long time. 

“I don’t want you to be punished for a crime you didn’t commit. I will help you, so you should ask for my help as well. You may ask for it, Tan Kai.” 

Tan Kai made a choked sound and stood frozen in place. 

She didn’t know that words connected. 

The Ministry of Internal Affairs and the lodgings for the low-ranking eunuchs were located at the south of the inner palace. Accompanied by Onkei and Tan Kai, Jusetsu headed to the lodgings. 

“Whoever killed Bokuken also stole the golden cup. That simplifies this case. We only have to follow where it went.” 

The golden cup had belonged to Bokuken. The Raven Consort’s specialty was finding lost items. 

Bokuken’s room was at the corner of the dormitory. It was small and humble, but neat and tidy. Perhaps it was a reflection of the resident’s personality. The place where Bokuken most likely collapsed was smeared with dark red blood. 

Jusetsu looked around the room. It was well-organized, but sparse. She placed the clothes that were left in the chest and the hair that had fallen on the bed onto the desk. Then, she took out a wooden figure from her pocket. Using the brush she had brought with her, she wrote Bokuken’s name on the figure with ink. She wrapped the hair around it and placed it on top of the clothes. Jusetsu removed a peony flower from her hair and blew on it. The petals shattered like glass, raining down on the figure. 

The figure began to tremble faintly. Its contours slowly melted and expanded. Its shape twisted as the air was absorbed into it. Eventually, it transformed into a black mist, donned the clothes, and lightly stepped down from the desk. It began to walk like a living person. Jusetsu and others followed it as it left through the open door. 

The robed mist stopped in front of a nearby room. It must have been the room of a low-ranking eunuch. 

“Whose room is this?” 

“I’ll go and ask,” Onkei said, but Tan Kai said, “It’ll be quicker if we just open it,” and reached for the door. Jusetsu blew a breath at the figure. The mist dispersed, and the clothes fell to the floor. 

No one was in the room. 

“—Niangniang.” Tan Kai pointed to a table in the middle of the room. A golden cup sat atop it. 

Onkei went to the Ministry of Internal Affairs to find out who the occupant of the room was. Jusetsu picked up the golden cup. She had wondered about its appearance, and indeed, it was magnificent. Made from hammered gold, it was so delicate and light that it looked as if it would shatter if one gripped it too hard. The exterior was intricately carved with motifs of lotus flowers, peonies, and vines. 

It is not possessed by an evil spirit. 

Bokuken had said it was cursed, but such conceptions were often the product of coincidence and delusion. 

But she couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the beauty of the craftsmanship. It was undoubtedly a work of supreme skill, a vessel with a powerful allure. She could understand that feeling of wanting it so badly one couldn’t bear it. 

Footsteps approached. They didn’t only belong to Onkei...there were many people coming. Jusetsu stepped out into the hallway and saw Onkei accompanied by five eunuchs. They were carrying swords—Bridles. She was momentarily wary, wondering if they had come to capture Tan Kai, but judging from their expressions, that didn’t seem to be the case. All the Bridles wore a look of confusion. 

“Niangniang, something strange is going on.” 

“What is the matter?” The usually calm and collected Onkei looked unusually anxious. 

“The owner of that room is a eunuch named Shicchou Hou.” 

“Shicchou?” 

“He is the younger brother of Shicchou Kon, the vice-commander of the Bridles.” 

His younger brother? 

“They are brothers and eunuchs?” 

“Yes. I don’t know the details, but... Shicchou Hou works in the Ministry of Internal Affairs, just like Bokuken. When I went to ask about this room, I was told he hasn’t been seen for a while.” 

“What?” 

“Vice Commander Shiccou is also missing,” a Bridle, standing behind Onkei, interrupted. “He hasn’t shown up at Bridles’ office since this morning, and he isn’t in his room either. We were searching the inner palace, and then...” 

And that was when they ran into Onkei. 

“What is going on?” The Bridles were standing there, bewildered. Jusetsu showed them the golden cup. 

“The golden cup stolen from Bokuken was in Shicchou Hou’s room.” 

Shock and confusion spread among the Bridles. “What does that mean—” 

Jusetsu ignored their questions and returned to the room. She searched the floor and bed, picking up any fallen hairs. There was no human being who didn’t lose hair. It was easiest for other people to obtain it, which was why it was used as a tool for sorcery. 

“Chase after Shicchou Hou.” 

Jusetsu took out a human figurine from her pocket. 

The figurine turned into a bird, and Jusetsu chased after it. The bird flew to the north. Onkei, Tan Kai, and the Bridles also chased after it. 

Passing through the grounds of the ministry, through the plum grove, and along the waterway, they ran straight ahead. 

Why had the brothers Shicchou Kon and Hou disappeared? Did they try to escape from the inner palace? Or--. 

Shicchou Kon was said to be a very serious and earnest person. 

I hope this ill premonition I have doesn’t come true. 

The bird was circling overhead. They were below. A row of willow trees and a red arched bridge came into view. They could hear the sound of rushing water as they approached. It was the stream flowing within the inner palace. 

Suddenly, Jusetsu noticed a thin crimson cloth floating down the stream. 

No, that is not a cloth. 

“Ah...” a Bridle shouted. He quickly ran upstream. 

Jusetsu stood there, watching the commotion from the sidelines. There was nothing she could do. 

Two eunuchs were lying on the ground, bleeding. One lay dead by the stream, his chest stained crimson, while the other was gripping a sword, half-submerged in the water. Blood flowed into the stream from his torn neck. 

The man holding the sword was Shicchou Kon. Then, the one who was stabbed in the chest was most likely Hou. 

The Bridles pulled Kon from the stream and laid him down next to Hou. It was unclear how long they had been dead. One of the eunuchs stepped away and came over to Jusetsu, his face pale. 

“I’ll go get the commander.” And with that, he rushed off. 

“...Shicchou Kon seemed to have killed his brother, and then committed suicide,” Tan Kai, who was watching the situation with pursed lips, muttered to himself. “I wondered why that upright and cautious vice-commander would be so anxious to arrest me. He must have been trying to cover for his brother, who killed Bokuken. He was going to frame me for the crime.” 

Jusetsu looked at the bodies. “I suppose he couldn’t do it.” 

“Given his personality, that was simply impossible. He was serious, inflexible, and felt overly responsible for everything. That was why we didn’t get along. The Shicchous were also a noble family that fell into decline. If his family hadn’t fallen into ruin, he would have become an excellent official. But his brother inherently lazy and seemed to have thought that becoming a eunuch might give him an east path to success. That’s the rumor that goes around town. Though, there aren’t many who take it serious and want to become a eunuch.” 

Of course, if one was well-liked by the consorts or emperor, one had the chance to become a high-ranking eunuch. 

“Apparently, Kon became a eunuch with his brother after he insisted on becoming one. He just couldn’t abandon his brother. I guess that’s what being an older brother is...” 

A chill rose up from the river surface. What had Shicchou Kon been thinking as he stabbed his brother in the chest? What were the last words they exchanged? Jusetsu couldn’t imagine it. But she did understand a few things. 

Jusetsu walked over to the two bodies. The eunuchs remained silent as they wiped Kon’s wet face. That alone showed who he was to the Bridles. 

There was no bitterness or anguish on his face. 

He tried to twist a wrong path to make it right. 

For the sake of someone he wanted to protect. 

He was the same as Jusetsu. 

Jusetsu turned around and looked at the faces of Onkei and Tan Kai. 

She realized that once you decided to protect something, there was no going back. Even if you stood in one place, the path to return no longer existed. 

Jusetsu took out a hankerchief from her pocket and gave it to the eunuch wiping Kon’s face. He looked up at Jusetsu in shock and confusion, but bowed and accepted it. He began wiping again with the handkerchief. 

“...I will burn a silk feather so that their souls will cross the sea without getting lost. If I burn one, they will not get lost.” 

It was a memorial ceremony. The guiding bird would lead the poor souls. 

“Lady Raven Consort.” 

Someone sobbed. The Bridles knelt in front of Jusetsu and didn’t raise their faces for a long time. 

Tan Kai watched from afar as the thin smoke of the burning silk feather lit by Jusetsu had drifted upward. 

A letter addressed to the commander of the Bridles was found in Shicchou Kon’s room. His younger brother, Hou, had discovered that Bokuken owned a golden cup and desperately wanted it. And so, that night, he hit Bokuken and stole the cup. Kon wrote in his letter that his brother came crying to him, insisting that he never thought Bokuken would die from that. Murder was punishable by death. Kon didn’t want his only brother to die. So, he investigated Bokuken’s background and framed Tan Kai. He knew what he was doing was wrong, but he couldn’t resist the urge to help his brother. And yet, in the end, Kon was overcome with guilt and destroyed everything. After he killed his brother with his own hands, he slit his own throat, bringing this story to a close. 

No matter how you look at it, his brother was beyond help. He should have just abandoned him, Tan Kai thought, but if Kon had been able to do that, he wouldn’t have become a eunuch in the first place. Tan Kai had no siblings, but he wondered what he would have done if someone like his cousin asked for his help. He would have helped her, even if it made everyone else his enemy. After all, he loved his cousin. 

What if it was Niangniang? 

What if he had to protect Jusetsu and ended up making everyone his enemy? 

“Onkei.” Tan Kai called out to his unseen associate, who was surely somewhere nearby.  

“From now on, I’m going to protect Niangniang no matter what.” 

Onkei appeared between the trees. 

“You’re the same, right?” 

“Of course.” Onkei’s answers were always short and decisive. Tan Kai’s eyes narrowed. 

“Then, we need to pull ourselves together.” 

“You’re the only one who’s slacking off.” 

“Niangniang is in a dangerous position,” Tan Kai continued, ignoring Onkei’s words. “If she sees someone in trouble, she’ll try to help them, whether they’re a human or ghost. Among commoners, she might simply be considered a virtuous person, but this is the inner palace.” 

“...” Onkei’s eyes sharpened, realizing what Tan Kai was implying. 

“There will always be those who see her as a danger. Especially since Niangniang is no ordinary consort...” 

It might have been better if she were just an ordinary consort. Tan Kai didn’t know what the Raven Consort actually was. But he could tell that if something went wrong, she would be a consort with terrifying power. The Raven Consort’s mysterious power, and Jusetsu’s personality. 

“Niangniang can rule the inner palace if she wants to.” 

The indications were already showing. 

“The Bridles are very grateful to her for this. When a eunuch dies, they’re simply abandoned on the riverbank. There’s no funeral or anything. And they’re criminals, to boot. But Niangniang felt pity for them and performed a funeral.” 

Funerals were the final salvation one could receive. And it wasn’t just the souls of the dead that were saved. 

Whether they were a palace lady or a eunuch, Jusetsu reached out to them, and her following grew without her even realizing it. 

“Niangniang is in a dangerous position,” Tan Kai repeated. 

“...I know.” Onkei turned his head to the palace. “That’s why we must protect her.” 

Tan Kai nodded. The two of them were Jusetsu’s guardian blades. 

The smoke could no longer be seen. Tan Kai was about to go to the palace when he suddenly stopped. He took out the cup from his pocket. It was the golden cup. Jusetsu had given it to him, saying that it originally belonged to him. 

Tan Kai carelessly it threw it to the ground. He removed the sword from its sheath hanging from his hip and struck the cup with the pommel. With a dry sound, the cup shattered instantly. 

The pleasant creaking and clacking of weaving looms echoed through the air. 

“The craftsmanship of the imperial court is truly magnificent,” Saname Chouyou said as he observed the three-layered silk brocade weave laid out on the table.  

“This was made with raw silk from Ga Province. It takes dye well, it’s sturdy, and it doesn’t tear easily, which is why such intricate patterns can be woven.” 

Koushun pointed to the woven pattern of birds holding strands of beads in their beaks and six-petaled flowers. They were in the Directorate of Imperial Manufactories—in other words, the imperial workshops. The weaving hall, to be exact. Around ten looms were lined up in the room, which was filled with the gentle sounds of weaving. What was it about the sounds that was so soothing? The sounds of the treadle being stepped on, the sound of shuttle passing through, the sound of the reed being drawn together...they reminded one of the seaside, like the rippling sounds of the waves. 

Koushun showed Chouyou around, from the cocoonery to the weaving hall. He kept guides and attendants at a distance and exchanged words directly with Chouyou. 

“We are grateful for the silkworm eggs you’ve presented to us.” 

“It is an honor to receive such words,” Chouyou clasped his hands together and bowed his head in solemnity.  “We, on the other hand, have no words to express our gratitude for your generous treatment of the Sanames.” 

Is he being magnanimous, Koushun thought to himself wryly. Or being sarcastic? 

“I will not allow the silkworms you raised so lovingly to go to waste. I want to further improve them and spread sericulture to regions unsuitable for cultivation.” 

Chouyou narrowed his eyes slightly. He nodded slowly, seemingly convinced by something. 

“It was truly a blessing to be able to present silkworms during Your Majesty’s reign. I placed my bets on you.” 

Koushun looked at Chouyou’s face. “What did you bet?” 

“The silkworms, as well as my youngest daughter.” 

“Do you desire a seat in the court?” 

Koushun wondered if he was planning to enter the court as a consort’s father. Right now, he was peering into Chouyou’s mind. 

“Not at all,” Chouyou laughed softly. As expected, he had a captivating smile. ”I have no such ambitions. Ambition is the beginning of ruin. Not just mine, but my entire clan. In order for we, who hail from Kakami, to survive, we must never covet political power.” 

Chouyou spoke slowly, in a subdued tone. His low voice could be heard beneath the steady sound of weaving. 

“Do you understand, Your Majesty? The fate of my clan depends on my decisions. If I make the wrong move, they will perish. I desire neither glory nor honor; I simply desire the peace and prosperity of Saname.” 

“The peace of Saname…” 

“I have deep confidence in your wisdom. I believe that serving you will benefit my clan. That is my duty as the head of Saname.” 

How can I ensure the survival of my family in a foreign land? Without attracting attention, without diminishing… 

Koushun finally understood the quandary of Chouyou, who had distanced himself from the court and shown no interest in politics despite making his daughter Koushun’s consort. 

The world of politics was one of constant rise and fall. Throughout history, how many have reached the height of glory only to be brought down? They oust others and were ousted themselves; a clan at the pinnacle yesterday might be destroyed today. Given this, the safest course was to avoid power struggles altogether from the start. 

It was all for the sake of his clan. 

Koushun felt like laughing. 

He might seem unambitious, but he was incredibly selfish. 

“Your Majesty, you must establish a stable reign. I will spare no effort to make that happen. If there is anything that threatens your position, I will remove it myself.” 

Chouyou’s voice was stern and solemn, but it sounded chillingly cold. 

“Niangniang, let’s go with this golden brown skirt. It goes perfectly with the golden floral pattern of the red underrobe. The sash will be this russet color, for a more subdued look…” 

Jiujiu pulled out colorful garments from the chest and excitedly held them against Jusetsu’s body. 

“What kind of shawl do you prefer? I like the light brown one sewn with amber, but this bright scarlet is also lovely.” 

“Either is fine.” 

“Oh, that’s not good, Niangniang. You need to tell me a little about your preferences.” 

Jusetsu always wore black, so she didn’t have any preferences. But knowing that Jiujiu wouldn’t back down, Jusetsu compared the shawls and agonized over them before choosing scarlet. 

“Niangniang, you like this color, huh,” Jiujiu looked pleased. 

“I picked it at random… What are you so happy about?” 

“I’m just happy to know what you like, Niangniang.” 

Is that all, Jusetsu thought. 

“Niangniang, you must be wondering what His Majesty likes, right?” 

“I am not.” 

“Oh, don’t say that. His Majesty is always bringing you your favorite foods.” 

“He merely believes that all he has to do is give me food.” 

“He isn’t wrong, is he?” 

“…” 

While Jusetsu remained silent with a bitter look on her face, Jiujiu quickly got her changed. Beside her, the palace lady Kougyou carefully folded the clothes at Jiujiu had pulled out. Since she couldn’t talk, she watched the exchange between Jusetsu and Jiujiu with a smile. She was like an older sister or a mother. 

After tying the sash, Jiujiu looked in the mirror as she put hairpins and ornaments in Jusetsu’s hair. Jusetsu gazed at her intently in the mirror. 

“Oh, is there anything you’d like to wear? Maybe the comb His Majesty gave you?” 

“No. …Do you like that kind of clothing?” 

Jiujiu was wearing a pale plum-colored robe and a pale tangerine skirt. She often wore these light colors. 

“Mm, I haven’t really thought about it, but I think I prefer light colors to dark ones. Maybe it’s because they’re spring-like. I love spring more than anything. I don’t like the heat or the cold, but I also hate the time of year when the weather gradually gets colder. It makes me feel lonely. I get the most excited when the weather slowly gets warmer.” 

“Excited, huh. I see.” 

Asking about people’s preferences is interesting, Jusetsu thought. You never knew unless you asked. 

“I understand a little of what you were saying.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“It’s interesting to learn what people like.” 

“Oh,” Jiujiu laughed brightly. It was like spring sunshine. “Is that so?” 

“And it makes me feel like I’ve gained something.” 

“Gained?” 

“I feel like I understand you better than before.” 

Jiujiu blinked her dark, bird-like eyes. “Do you feel happy too, Niangniang?” 

“Happy? ...I see. I suppose so. I might be feeling happy.” 

“Heehee,” Jiujiu laughed, covering her mouth with her sleeve. “I’m also happy that you feel that way, Niangniang.” 

Jiujiu always had a clear understanding of her own feelings, unlike Jusetsu., who was always confused by her own feelings, groping around in the dark. 

Seeing Jiujiu’s delighted smile, Jusetsu’s heart warmed. She wasn’t sure if she should call this feeling happiness or something else. 

“It’s all finished. Let’s go.” 

Jiujiu seemed satisfied as she looked at Jusetsu, all dressed-up. She urged Jusetsu towards the door. She had gotten changed to go out. Their destination was Hakkaku Palace, where they intended to pay a visit to Banka. 

However... 

“Um, Niangniang,” Ishiha, who had been taking Xingxing on a walk outside, opened the door and peeked in, a confused look on his face. He was holding Xingxing to his chest. “There’s a guest...” 

“A guest?” 

A eunuch entered the room from behind Ishiha. –No, not a eunuch. 

“I snuck out of Hakkaku Palace. I wanted to see you.” It was Banka, dressed as a eunuch. “If I were to make an official visit, I’d have to bring along all my ladies-in-waiting and eunuchs, and that would be too ostentatious, wouldn’t it?” 

Banka smiled mischievously. Jusetsu had heard from Koushun that she was in a depressive state, but she seemed surprisingly cheerful. Her cheeks did seem a little thinner, though. 

Though taken aback, Jusetsu had Jiujiu and the others prepare tea. She pulled out a chair for Banka and sat opposite. 

“I was planning to visit.” 

“Oh, truly? But I’ve always wanted to try sneaking out. Say, do you think this suits me? I heard you go out pretending to be a eunuch sometimes, and I wanted to do the same.” 

“Well...I suppose it does suit you.” 

“I’m so happy to hear that.” 

Banka’s voice was bright. Almost too bright. It made Jusetsu worry. 

“Are you feeling well? Are you pushing yourself too hard?” 

“I’m fine. I’m healthy. It’s just that I feel down sometimes.” 

“...That is good to hear. You are better off eating something warm and recuperating.” 

“Yes, I will. Thank you so much for the other day. For the cocoons.” She was talking about the cocoon theft. “Because of your intervention, the situation didn’t get any worse. If the Bridles had showed up and made a big arrest, we wouldn’t have been able to keep it a secret. Father might not have been able to present the silkworm eggs so easily.” 

The matter was quietly resolved and not made public. This was due to concerns about worsening relations with Saname. Chouyou likely heard about it, though. 

“Hey, as a token of my gratitude, I’ll give you a bolt of silk woven from this time’s raw silk. It’s being woven right now.” 

“Is that not something that should be presented to Kou...the emperor?” 

“I’ll present one to him as well, but I’m also weaving one bolt of silk myself.” 

“You’re weaving it yourself?” 

“Yes. I’m not very good at weaving, but I’d like you to accept it. Will you?” 

Banka said this pleadingly, so Jusetsu had no choice but to nod and say, “Yes...” 

“I’m so happy. I’ll do my best.” 

As always, this girl seemed innocent, yet exuded a sense of emptiness. Jusetsu wondered if she was okay. 

“...Is there something troubling you?” 

Banka closed her mouth and blinked. Jusetsu thought she might burst into tears, but she didn’t. She did look like she was about to cry, though. 

“Oh, no,” Banka laughed. “But, you see—my father is here in the palace right now. Did you know?” 

“Ah, I’ve heard about that.” 

“We’re going to be meeting soon, but I’m feeling a bit uneasy. Father is so strict.” 

“Then you should not meet.” 

When Jusetsu said that, Banka laughed as though she had said something funny. 

“But I want to see him. He’s my father, after all. I wonder if he’ll praise me...or scold me,” she lowered her eyes, as if talking to herself. Then she suddenly looked up. “Ah, that reminds me. My brothers came with him.” 

“Oh, your brothers?” 

Jusetsu felt like she heard about them before. 

“My oldest brother and my third brother—he’s the one closest to me in age. I told you about them before, hehe. My oldest brother is arrogant, and my third brother is mean. They’d be furious if they knew I said this. You know, my second brother is the best. He’s the most like Father. He’s not arrogant, and he’s not mean, but you never know what he’s thinking. I’m sure he was left behind in Ga Province because Father trusted him the most. There’s even a rumor that he might be the heir.” 

Jusetsu briefly wondered if it was okay for Banka to tell her such private information, but she simply said, “I see.” 

“Hey, Jusetsu.” Banka’s smile faded as she lowered her voice to a whisper. “Be careful of my father, okay?” 

Jusetsu frowned. Before she could ask what she meant, Banka stood up. 

“I’ll be heading back now, before my ladies-in-waiting notice my absence.” 

Banka spun around and nimbly exited the palace. Her steps were so light Jusetsu wondered if she even had any weight. 

A young man entered the room, his footsteps echoing down the hallway. His handsome features complemented his long, blue robes. The fierce combativeness in his eyes was both a flaw and a charm. His eyes always sparkled like stars. 

“Brother, where is Father?” 

“He’s in the back room. It looks like he’s writing a letter.” 

Shin, who was sipping tea in the room, answered calmly. He was Saname Shin—Chouyou’s oldest son. He was dressed in subdued, willow-green robes, favored by men of refined taste. His gaze held none of his younger brother’s fierceness nor his father’s sharpness. These eyes conveyed the dignity befitting the heir of a distinguished noble house, while his tightly drawn mouth revealed the sternness he inherited from his father. 

“A letter? To who at a time like this?” 

“I don’t know. Don’t pry into every single thing our father does, xiao didi.”(2)

Ryou, Chouyou’s third son, frowned and gave him a sharp glare. It was a bad habit of his to show his emotions so easily. His older brother, Shin, found his childish behavior at his age to be annoying, while Ryou, for his part, thought his eldest brother was “pompous.” 

“I wish I’d stay in Ga Province. It’s so boring here.” 

Ryou slumped into a chair. Shin didn’t feel the same way. Samon Palace, the villa given to the Saname entourage, was a magnificent palace. Its vibrant crimson-lacquered pillars, intricately crafted hanging lanterns, and the fretwork on the transoms. The furnishings, all black lacquered, featured beautiful mother-of-pearl inlays, and every single item, from the silver trays to the glass drinking cups were exquisitely crafted. Shin had heard that the palace workshops housed the finest artisans in the nation, and this felt like a glimpse into that world. 

“I told you not to come, but you were the one who insisted. Don’t complain like a child now.” 

“Hmph,” Ryou turned away, irritated. “Brother, aren’t you frustrated? We’ve given so much rice and silk as tribute, and now they’ve confiscated our silkworm eggs.” 

“They weren’t confiscated. They were also tribute. We were fortunate that’s how it ended. Had the emperor been a harsh ruler, our entire clan and retainers might well have been executed.” 

Cheating on the tax payments to the imperial court would mean defying the emperor. It wouldn’t have been surprising if they were charged with treason. Their great-uncle was the one to blame. 

“We have no army. Wealth and wisdom are our weapons. The silkworm eggs cannot be kept secret forever. If the opportunity had been missed, they could have been seized by force. Father seized the perfect chance to compromise and repay the emperor’s compassion.” 

Ryou fell silent, dissatisfied. “Good grief,” Shin sighed. The third son had inherited most of their late mother’s beauty, but he also shared her strong will. 

“...Do you think everything Father does is right, Brother?” 

“That’s not quite right. Father would never do anything that would harm Saname.” 

“In the end, doesn’t that mean obeying him in everything?” 

“Of course.” 

Saname had a particularly strong respect for their elders. Their father’s word was absolute. This was a rule ingrained in them. 

“So, if Father tells you that he wants Second Brother to succeed him, you’ll obey?” 

Second Brother—the second son. 

Shin glared at Ryou. He looked away. “...I’m worried, Brother. What is Father planning to do here?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“He isn’t just going to present the silkworm eggs, go on a leisurely stroll around the capital and return home. He must have some other plan.” 

Ryou had always been strangely sensitive and had a keen intuition. This had caused his wet nurse a lot of trouble. 

The image of their father’s back as he wrote his letter suddenly came to Shin’s mind. Their father never did anything pointless. Who was that letter addressed to? 

“...I don’t know, but Father is always thinking about Saname. There’s no need to worry.” 

“He never consults us about anything,” Ryou muttered. “Not a single thing.” 

Shin knew it as well. 

Father doesn’t rely on us at all. 

So the gist of the series ending is: Jusetsu is no longer the Raven Consort and decides to travel the world along with Jiujiu, Onkei, and Tan Kai as sea merchants.

It was said that those islands were created from the husk of a serpent.

“The sea god went to the deep, deep bottom of the sea. The only one who can see him and hear his voice is the shaman queen.”

The old man, who was completely drunk, slurred his words, a cup of alcohol in hand. Next to him, Tan Kai had his chin in his hands and was listening with an interested smile, while opposite him, Onkei had a sour look on his face. He hated drunks. Jusetsu looked between the two of them as she bit into the pork on the bone. It was gently simmered and had a sweet and spicy flavor. Apparently, it was a specialty of this restaurant, and the old man, seeing that Jusetsu and her friends were travelling merchants, generously treated them to a meal.

The old man was a fisherman who lived in this port town on Kada, and his arms were covered in scaly tattoos. It appeared that few people on Kada or Karoku had tattoos like that anymore, but the old man proudly rolled up his sleeves to show them off, calling them the pride of a fisherman.

“But putting that aside, you have beautiful silver hair.”

The old man gazed at Jusetsu’s hair with drowsy eyes. Her shining silver hair was tied back, and she was dressed in black robes. Jusetsu, who was in her twenties, attracted attention even when she was wearing unrefined men’s clothing.

“I heard that in the country of Shou, the silver-haired bloodline had died out. You’d better be careful not to catch the eye of strange folk. Around here, silver hair means slaves.”

Jusetsu nodded. This was what her merchant master, Un Chitoku, had told her when she first came to Kada. In Kada, those with silver hair, whether they were men or women, were slaves and bought and sold by slavers. She was to be extremely careful as to avoid being misunderstood or kidnapped.

She had assumed that having silver hair wouldn’t be a problem in a foreign country, but it seemed that wasn’t the case. Despite her caution, she had run into trouble many times in Kada. She had considered dyeing it, but that would be a waste of water, and Tan Kai claimed that it would be better if people remembered her face and name instead. If she became famous as a silver-haired merchant, she wouldn’t be mistaken for someone else or get kidnapped. Jiujiu agreed, saying, “It would be such a shame to dye that beautiful silver hair. Niangniang has done nothing wrong, so there is no need to dye it.” That was just like her. Onkei was worried, but also agreed that it was a good idea when thinking about the future. And so, Jusetsu kept her silver hair. In other words, she must become a great sea merchant.

“Shall we return to the ship now?” Onkei asked, looking at the plate that now held only bones. The old man had already fallen into a drunken doze. After finishing their business in Kada, they planned to return to Shou via Ake. Jiujiu had already returned to the ship and was preparing for the voyage.

“Did you two forget to buy anything?” Jusetsu checked with them as they left the restaurant and headed for the port. Tan Kai and Onkei responded in the negative.

“What about you, Niangniang?” Tan Kai asked. “You didn’t forget to buy a present for Dajia like last time, did you?”

“I didn’t forget that time. I only assumed he didn’t want anything. And then…”

He had been very disappointed. Even though as the emperor, he would have been presented with a countless number of precious and expensive items.

Tan Kai chuckled. Onkei glared at him, but seemed to agree, judging by his silence.

“I bought something for him this time, so don’t worry,” Jusetsu said, even as she began to worry that she might have forgotten something.

“Gold hair accessories for Kajou…a jade paperweight for Koushun…” Jusetsu counted the people she had prepared gifts for on her fingers. “Senri…Ishiha…Kougyou, Keishi…and then…ah,” she muttered and stopped walking.

“Oh no, I forgot about Ei Sei.” She turned around hastily. “He doesn’t look like it, but he holds deep grudges, so he’d surely keep nagging me if I were to forget his present. Maybe I should buy him some tea utensils, but if I buy something half-hearted, that would make him even angrier…”

Previous || Index || Next

After a while, Shuuji arrived, looking fearful of her surroundings. Her face was pale.

“La…Lady Raven Consort, I told you to forget about the ghost…”

“Were you threatened by the ghost?”

Shuuji’s eyes widened. “You know?”

“Did it tell you that you’re cursed? Don’t worry, it was lying.”

“Is…is that true, Lady Raven Consort?”

Shuuji, looking like she was about to burst into tears, tried to cling to Jusetsu. Onkei stopped her. “No need,” Jusetsu told him, then took Shuuji’s hand. When Onkei let go of her, she crumpled down on the spot. She cried as she squeezed Jusetsu’s hand.

“Lady Raven Consort, I’m scared.”

“What scared you?” Jusetsu asked, soothing a sobbing Shuuji.

“Yesterday…it happened yesterday evening. After finishing work, I was walking in the outer corridor when something rolled down at my feet. When I stopped and looked, I saw that it was a cocoon. And then, more cocoons fell down, and just when I was wondering what was going on, I saw a shadow on the nearby lattice window…” Shuuji trembled. “It was dark inside, so I couldn’t see them very well, but they seemed to be a palace lady. She was standing beside me, facing me. Then, she spoke. If you continue to meddle in my business, I’ll put a curse on you. It was a terrifying voice. I lost my nerve and ran into the room where everyone else was. When I told them that I saw a ghost, they said that we had to investigate, so I went back with them even though I didn’t want to. As might be expected, the ghost was nowhere to be found, nor the cocoons. I was just so scared and didn’t know what to do…”

So, she went to Yamei Palace again and told Jusetsu to leave the ghost alone.

“Hmm,” Jusetsu, who was listening with her head tilted slightly, nodded.

“By ‘terrifying voice,’ what kind of voice was it specifically? A high voice or a low voice? A thin voice or a thick voice?”

 “Specifically…? Well…” Shuuji closed her eyes, as though to remember.

“It wasn’t a high-pitched voice. It wasn’t deep either…yes, it wasn’t a young voice. It was hoarse, like there was something wrong with their throat, and that might have been why I was so frightened. Because it wasn’t the voice of a young palace lady at all.”

“Do you recall hearing that voice before?”

“No, I haven’t—oh, but…” Shuuji put her hand to her mouth. “Now that I think about it, I feel like I’ve heard it… No, but I’m not very sure.”

“You said you ran into the room where everyone else was. Who is ‘everyone’?”

“The palace ladies… I think they were all there, but I was also upset and don’t remember clearly.”

“Hmm, I see,” Jusetsu peered into Shuuji’s face. “Listen, that was not a ghost. The reason is that my barrier extends here. Ghosts won’t appear within it. It’s impossible.”

Shuuji was staring intently into Jusetsu’s eyes, as though drawn into them.

“Y-Yes…, Lady Raven Consort!” Shuuji nodded vigorously, her cheeks flushing. “Ah, then someone did something like that…? Who is it?”

“Most likely someone who doesn’t want to be investigated.”

The ghost that threatened Shuuji and the ghost that stole the cocoons were probably the same person.

Jusetsu had said that there were two ghosts, but one of them was fake.

“May I look inside the room?”

Before she heard a reply, Jusetsu went up the stairs and entered the room where the palace ladies were working. There was a fishy smell and steam enshrouded everything. Large cauldrons with boiling water were placed in two kilns. The cocoons were being boiled inside them. Palace ladies standing next to them were picking up boiled cocoons, quickly finding the thread end, and pulling out the thread. They were incredibly fast. The pulled-out threads were winded around thread reels.

After removing the material that would become silk thread, there was another palace lady who removed the cocoons with transparent larvae from the cauldrons, another who changed the water, and another who removed the thread from the reel. The palace ladies’ cheeks and hands were red from the heat, and sweat was beading on their foreheads and necks.

They were all silently engrossed in their work and didn’t even notice Jusetsu’s entrance. Jusetsu’s eyes landed on the kiln containing cocoons at the edge of the room. Even to an untrained eye, she could tell that there were some dirty cocoons mixed in. These were probably the bad cocoons that had been sorted out. Jusetsu immediately left the room so as to not disturb the palace ladies’ work. “Are those the bad cocoons you have at the edge of the room?” she asked Shuuji, who was waiting in the outer corridor. “Yes,” Shuuji answered.

“Are you going to throw them away?”

“No, we can’t present them to the emperor, but we take the thread and make them into palace lady uniforms or cotton.”

“Have they been kept there since yesterday?”

“Yes. The good cocoons are kept under strict guard in a separate room, but the bad ones are…”

“Then those must be the cocoons used to threaten you yesterday.”

Anyone who knew where they were could easily take them out.

“Then, who was the palace lady who pretended to be a ghost and threatened me?”

It’s not them, Shuuji said, looking towards the room where steam was leaking.

“If it was one of my friends, I would know who it was even in the dark. Even their voice…”

Jusetsu watched as the steam unraveled and disappeared.

“I think it would be quicker to have them come out before us than to find out who they are.”

As the evening approached, Jusetsu changed from her eunuch uniform to her usual black robes and headed to the mound with Onkei. She walked around the old moss-covered mound and looked up at the trees.

She had known that someone had been visiting this place from the last time she came here. She knew because the undergrowth had been trodden on.

“Niangniang, they’re here.”

At Onkei’s whisper, Jusetsu hid behind the mound. Onkei hid among the trees.

Under the dim shade of the trees, there was the sound of someone’s footsteps approaching. They were light. They were probably a slender person, not very tall. The person seemed to stop in front of the mound, but then slowly approached a tree, making sure that their footsteps were concealed. It was a large old tree with hollows everywhere. When he put his hand there, Jusetsu called out to him.

“The cocoons are no longer there.”

The man jumped and turned around, his hand still reaching inside the hollow. Jusetsu stood up, and Onkei also appeared from the trees.

“Do you remember my face? We talked behind the mulberry storage room today.”

He stared at Jusetsu’s face and let out a small “Ah.”

“You’re not a eu…”

The man who said this with a pale face was the young eunuch who had told Jusetsu about how they used mulberry branches to make dyes and firewood as he tied them together.

“I hear your name is Rijou.”

She had Tan Kai look into the eunuchs who worked at the cocoonery. Everything from their identities to finances.

“I know exactly what you did. You pretended to be the ghost of a palace lady, sneaked into the cocoonery, and stole the cocoons.”

When it became clear that someone had pretended to be a ghost, it became obvious that the palace ladies had nothing to do with the matter. If it had been a palace lady who stole the cocoons, they wouldn’t have needed to pretend to be a ghost. Just as Jusetsu had once suspected, one only had snatch some cocoons while working and claim that a ghost had appeared.

Rijou had a small stature and wide eyes. He could easily transform into a palace lady by putting on makeup. If he made himself look like a woman, it would be difficult for even those who knew him to notice. Just like how at first, even Shuuji didn’t recognize Jusetsu when she was dressed as a eunuch.

“Ah…ugh…”

Rijou’s face was pale, and he was trembling. He didn’t seem to be the most daring person. He backed away a step, then suddenly tried to run. Onkei moved quickly, but before he could do anything, Rijou tripped on grass and fell. Onkei grabbed his arms and pinned him down. Rijou struggled, but Onkei’s arms didn’t budge.

“N-No…I…”

Rijou began to cry. He was not yet twenty, a young man who seemed able to do both good and bad things with ease.

“I know this wasn’t your plan alone. You were probably instigated by the eunuchs in charge of taking the pupae outside. Did they tell you that you would make money?”

She asked him this, thinking that he would confess if she asked in this way. Rijou nodded readily.

“Yes…that’s right. But it wasn’t for money. At first, it was just a game between friends.”

“A game?”

“I would disguise myself as a palace lady and see if I get found out or not. It was…a bet.”

Jusetsu had heard that many eunuchs indulged in gambling. This was because there was hardly any entertainment here.

“So, have you been sneaking into the cocoonery since before?”

“No, at first I just wandered outside and bet on whether other eunuchs or palace ladies would recognize me, but it went so well that I was told that it wasn’t a bet anymore, so they told me to pretend to be the rumored cocoonery ghost. But doing only that would be boring, so we bet whether or not I can take a cocoon…”

Perhaps the prank went too far.

“I was planning to return the cocoons right away, because there was no point in keeping them. I thought I should drop them in a corner of the room and return them that way. But when Mr. Sekian learned about my plan…”

“He’s the eunuch in charge of transporting pupae. Is he not your friend?”

“He is my superior. Mr. Sekian told me that I should sell the cocoons to a silkworm farmer. That was scary, so of course I told him no, but then he said he’ll reveal that I stole the cocoons…he threatened me by saying that it was a serious crime…”

Rijou started sniffling. He looked very much like a child when he did that.

“Mr. Sekian said that because of his job, he was acquainted with carp merchants and knew of silkworm farmers who might be willing to buy cocoons. He said he would talk to them and sell the cocoons the next time he brought the pupae outside, so I should hide them until then.”

“So, you hid them in a tree hollow until the time came to go outside to deliver the pupae?”

“I knew this place because I come here to get firewood to use in the cocoonery. I thought that this tree hollow would be perfect.”

Keeping them close at hand could be dangerous in case someone investigates. Therefore, Jusetsu had the idea that the cocoons were probably hidden somewhere else, and this was the place that came to mind. It was supposed to be a place that no one went near, but there were signs that someone had been here. After looking around, she found a cloth bundle that had been pushed into a tree hollow, containing the two cocoons.

The thread was retrieved from the cocoons today, and the pupae would be delivered to the carp merchants tomorrow. So, Jusetsu deduced that he would be coming here today.

“You were the ones who threatened the palace lady, Nen Shuuji, yesterday.”

“I was told to pretend to be a palace lady again and to just stand there, so that’s all I did. He said that we were just going to scare the palace ladies a little. I thought it was just a prank. It was Mr. Sekian, not me, who dropped the cocoons and threatened her with a fake voice.”

As for Sekian, Tan Kai should have had him tied up right now.

In any case, it was good that the cocoons hadn’t been taken outside, but there was the danger that the Saname silkworms leaking out into the world. After informing Banka and Koushun, she had to leave the handling of the matter to them.

Jusetsu left the mound with Rijou tied up by Onkei. It was already completely dark. She suddenly stopped and turned around. The area in front of the mound became slightly brighter. There was a palace lady standing there. She turned towards Jusetsu and bowed once. Then just like that, she faded away and disappeared. Jusetsu stared at the mound, which had sunk into darkness once again.

She probably wasn’t a palace lady who died from the silkworms’ curse.

In fact, it seemed like she even loved silkworms.

Jusetsu wondered if she showed up in the cocoonery because she truly just wanted to take care of the silkworms.

After that, Jusetsu lifted the barrier around the cocoonery, but the ghost didn’t appear again, perhaps because this year’s silkworm cultivation was over.

“In a book written in the previous dynasty, there is a story about a woman who loved the silkworms so much that she refused to marry and was executed,” Koushun said. “It’s written as a story that circulated throughout the public, but it might have been something that actually occurred in the inner palace.”

“Then, by refusing to marry, do you mean that she rejected the emperor’s advances?”

That would probably be why she was executed.

“The fact that you knew such a book existed is astonishing,” Jusetsu said with some admiration.

After a moment’s silence, Koushun answered, “I learned about it from Shiki.” He was an honest man.

“Shiki knows most of the books in Koutou Academy.”

Reiko Shiki was a scholar of Koutou Academy. Before that, he was a deputy inspector in Ga Province.

Jusetsu had visited Koutou Academy before. It held a large number of books, from bamboo strips to paper scrolls. If he already grasped them all, then he truly was a talented man.

Jusetsu stared at the surface of the pond that spread out in front of him. A distorted moon was reflected on the rippled surface of the water.

The two of them were standing by the pond at Yamei Palace. Ei Sei was standing a little distance away, so no one could hear their conversation.

“You’re friendly with Shiki, aren’t you.”

Her murmured voice seemed to glide over the ripples.

“I wouldn’t call it friendly,” Koushun’s voice was tinged with perplexity. “He is my vassal, after all.”

He wasn’t just a vassal either. Shiki was probably the one person who could understand Koushun’s darkest depths. They both kept the cold flame of revenge burning in their hearts. It was something Jusetsu simply couldn’t understand.

Every time she thought about it, Jusetsu felt a feeling like smoldering embers. It was like she was being enveloped in fog or sinking into the deep sea. She felt insecure and restless.

“…What’s wrong?”

Koushun’s hand reached out and touched her cheek, then immediately pulled away. She looked up at him. He said that he would find a way to save her. Find a way to free her from Wulian Niangniang. If there was such a path, he wanted to choose it.

He heard Jusetsu’s silent cries for help.

When she heard that, Jusetsu had unexpectedly burst into tears. Koushun wiped them for her. Since then, she no longer put herself on guard when he touched her. And he also touched her naturally, without hesitation or indecision.

Some kind of barrier had been removed—completely removed.

Jusetsu wanted to ask Reijou, the previous Raven Consort who raised her, this question.

Is this okay?

Of course, I won’t get a “yes.”

The water's surface swayed. The distorted moon was hidden by thin clouds.

After a while, Jusetsu heard a new rumor from Jiujiu. It was said that the palace ladies of the cocoonery had begun visiting the mound. It was now a common rumor that the ghost of the palace lady was a guardian deity of silkworms.

This seems to be how gods are created, Jusetsu thought.

Previous || Index || Next

That night, there was an unusual preliminary announcement.

“Dajia will be arriving here shortly.”

A boy eunuch came to Yamei Palace to inform them. It was still the first watch of the night (seven to nine pm).

Jusetsu found it bothersome that Koushun would be go out of his way to send her a message beforehand, but since there was no point in telling the messenger that, Jusetsu simply replied, “I see.” The boy eunuch noticed Ishiha, who was feeding Xingxing in a corner of the room, and had an “Ah” look on his face. Ishiha made a similar face. “Do you know each other?” Jusetsu asked Ishiha. “We were together at Gyokou Hall,” he said. For a time, Ishiha worked as a servant at Koushun’s residence.

The two were smiling. They were probably good friends. It was adorable. Seemingly remembering his position, the boy eunuch hurriedly bowed and said, “Excuse me.” He was about to leave when Jusetsu took some boiled chestnuts on the tray and put them in his small hands. If he made Ishiha happy, then it might be a good idea to have him serve as the messenger in the future, she thought. At the same time, she asked herself if that was what a Raven Consort would do. Her heart was uncertain.

Jiujiu ran to the kitchen to prepare tea, and Ishiha retreated to his room. Koushun must have waited for the right time to come, since the tea was just ready when he arrived at Yamei Palace.

“There are no changes?” Koushun asked quietly, taking a sip of the gently steaming tea. His voice was quiet but held a hint of warmth, like the winter sun.

“Nothing has changed.”

Koushun’s expression remained unchanged by Jusetsu’s curt reply, and Ei Sei, standing behind him, only frowned. When she turned to look at him, he suddenly turned his head away. Normally, he would stare at her with a biting gaze. She was fine with it as long as he didn’t scowl at her.

On the table, there were the lotus seeds preserved in sugar brought by Koushun. They were Jusetsu’s favorites, which he often brought. After popping a seed coated in white sugar into her mouth, she looked at him.

“…What about you?” she asked quietly.

“Me?” Koushun looked back at her in surprise.

“You asked me, so I’ll ask you too.”

“I see. Well, as for me…”

He looked down a little thoughtfully. It was just like him to seriously think about his answer.

“I’m having a difficult time talking to the Owl.”

The Owl.

The executioner from Kakurenomiya who tried to kill Jusetsu. He was also the Raven’s brother. The Raven imprisoned within Jusetsu—

“…What do you mean by difficult time?”

The Owl said that he was currently imprisoned in Kakurenomiya. Apparently, it was because he had broken a prohibition against interfering with them. In prison, the Owl used a large conch shell as a messenger to deliver his voice. Only Koushun, who was injured by him, could hear him.

“It seems to depend on the tides and waves. It’s not a guarantee that his voice can reach me when I’m near the shell. But I can’t carry it around with me either.”

It would be acceptable if it was a small shell, but it was a large conch shell. It would raise questions if people saw him walking around with it, and moreover, talking to it. They might suspect him of being insane.

“…In the first place, the Owl approached us to find a solution, so there may not be a need to inquire further.”

Display your wisdom, the Owl had said. He told them to think of a way to save the Raven without killing Jusetsu.

“I don’t think so. There must be things that he knows that we don’t know. I would like to have more conversations to confirm that, but…”

“You ask me, but I wouldn’t know such things.”

“You were the one who asked, so I answered.”

“That’s not what I asked you about.”

 “Then what is it?”

Jusetsu was at a loss for an answer. What is it? What answer did I wish to hear?

“…I asked about you, so your answer should be about yourself.”

“I believe I did do so.”

“I didn’t ask about the Owl.”

“How particular you are,” Koushun replied dispassionately, but spoke after thinking it over in silence for a little bit. “I am the same as you. There hasn’t been anything unusual. I’ve been sleeping well lately, and I am in good health.”

“I see.”

Jusetsu didn’t really know what she wanted to ask, so that was all she said. However, after hearing his words just now, she felt relieved. Perhaps that was what she wanted to hear from the start. Koushun didn’t talk about himself voluntarily.

“The head of the Saname clan will be arriving here from Ga Province soon, so there are many things to worry about, though.”

“Saname Chouyou is coming here?”

“Yes. He is presenting silkworm eggs.”

“Silkworms from Ga Province? He’s presenting eggs instead of raw silk?”

“It’s part of his compensation for the previous incident.”

He was referring to the incident in which the uncle of the family head, who had been living under house arrest, had plotted to regain his interests. In the end, his past injustices and murders were soon exposed, and it was said that Chouyou himself beheaded his uncle. Because they had doctored the rice taxes that they were supposed to pay to the central government, the Saname clan had to receive a very severe punishment.

“I desperately wanted the Saname silkworm eggs, but they are never taken out of the province. I couldn’t forcibly take them away. I’m glad I was able to unexpectedly obtain them due to this incident.”

That meant that he used this incident as a pretext to make the request. Koushun’s expression remained cool, though.

“Is it because the raw silk from Ga Province is such high quality?”

“The quality of the luster is excellent, and it is durable. The cocoonery in the imperial court have been conducting research on it for a long time, but we just can’t get that luster with other silkworms. The silkworm eggs presented by Saname are the highest quality among their silkworms. I want to use them as a base to make further improvements and eventually standardize the silkworm varieties of Shou.”

His tone was calm, but he seemed to be extremely ambitious and motivated. It’s unusual for him to talk for so long, Jusetsu thought. At the same time, what caught her attention was the fact that he desperately wanted the Saname silkworm eggs.

The Saname silkworms are worth more than I expected.

“There’s a cocoonery in the inner palace as well.”

Jusetsu was inwardly startled at Koushun’s words. Of course, the cocoonery ghost and the loss of the cocoons were a secret from him. Especially if the cocoons were worth that much.

“The silkworms currently being raised there are Saname silkworms. The Crane Consort is in charge of it.”

“Huh,” Jusetsu didn’t say anything more and simply made a sound of acknowledgement.

“Apparently, the Crane Consort also took care of silkworms when she lived in Ga Province. She is also very knowledgeable about their ecology.”

“Huh…” She remembered that Jiujiu had also said something about that. “Is that so?”

“You didn’t know? I thought you two were close.”

“We haven’t seen each other lately.”

Jusetsu didn’t go to other palaces unless invited. Before, she often received invitations from Banka, but recently they had stopped coming.

“I see. It seems like she hasn’t been feeling well for a while now. I should go visit her.”

“Is she sick?”

The curse incident crossed her mind. Was that still having a lasting effect? However, Koushun denied it.

“She appears to be depressed. It’s suddenly getting colder. It might be because of that.”

“You didn’t go to visit her?”

“I have. We’re exchanging letters as well.”

That was right, Koushun was a conscientious person.

“I’m about to go there today as well.”

“Then you should go quickly. You need not visit me.”

“I didn’t mean to stay too long, but I wanted to see your face.”

Sometimes, Jusetsu felt as though she was standing there motionless at Koushun’s words. In such cases, she couldn’t respond.

Koushun stood up. Even when she looked at his face, it was as expressionless as ever, and she couldn’t read his emotions. When he was about to go to the doors, he turned around.

“I just remembered something. About Hou Ichigyou…”

He was an old man who was an imperial sorcerer in the previous dynasty. He was being pursued on the charges of sending the Owl’s tsukaibe, Shougetsu, into the inner palace, and was arrested in the entertainment district recently.

“His fever has subsided and he’s on the mend. You’ll be able to see him soon.”

Perhaps it was because he had got caught in the rain for a little bit when he was arrested, or perhaps it was due to stress, but Hou became bedridden with illness. Due to his old age, he couldn’t brush off even a minor sickness. He was moved to the inner court for monitoring and nursing.

Jusetsu was relieved to hear that he was on his way to recovery. She had so many things she wanted to ask about sorcerers and the Raven Consort.

“I’ll come again.”

After saying that, Koushun left through the doors. Jusetsu stood up, opened the doors slightly, and watched him and the eunuchs as they left. The sun set, and the lanterns held by the eunuchs were flickering dimly in the darkness.

Jusetsu stood there for a while, watching the lights becoming more and more distant. Suddenly, she noticed a light approaching from a different direction and stared at it. It was the figure of a palace lady that stood out against the light.

Shuuji.

Jusetsu descended the steps and went to her. Shuuji hurriedly knelt when she spotted her.

“L…Lady Raven Consort.”

“What’s wrong? Did the ghost appear?”

“No, that’s not it. Um…”

Shuuji’s face was so pale that it could be seen even in the dim light, and her voice was trembling. Something strange had clearly happened. However, the words that came out of her mouth were completely unexpected.

“Please just forget about what I requested of you.”

“What?”

“Please leave that ghost be. Please—”

Jusetsu frowned. “What exactly is going on? Tell me what happened.”

“No, nothing happened. Please forgive me.”

After repeating “Please forgive me” over and over again, Shuuji finally ran away. Jusetsu silently watched her receding figure. It couldn’t have been nothing.

What happened?

The next morning, Jusetsu once again dressed in a eunuch’s uniform and headed to the cocoonery. Even if Shuuji asked her to leave it be, with that frightened appearance, there was no way she would withdraw herself.

Before she headed to the cocoonery, she had some trouble deciding who to accompany her.

“Yesterday was Onkei, so please take me with you today.”

It was because Tan Kai had said that. Jiujiu couldn’t stay silent when she heard that.

“If you’re willing to take someone like Tan Kai with you, then take me as well.”

“What do you mean, someone like me? You can’t be a bodyguard.”

“I’m worried about you because you’re lazy.”

It seemed that Jiujiu didn’t get along very well with Tan Kai. Since they were arguing, it didn’t look like they would be able to go out. “I’ll bring Onkei with me,” Jusetsu decided. “If it’s Onkei, then it’s fine,” Jiujiu immediately backed down. Tan Kai complained until the end.

“My apologies. I will scold Tan Kai later,” Onkei apologized as they went to the cocoonery.

“I don’t mind adding him, but three strangers would be too conspicuous, wouldn’t they?”

“I’ll try not to stand out, then.”

A voice suddenly came from nearby, and Jusetsu stopped. Tan Kai appeared from between the trees.

“Did you follow us?” Jusetsu asked, somewhat taken aback.

“Tan Kai,” Onkei called out to him in a subdued voice. Jusetsu could tell that his reprimand was strong enough to be held back so much. If Ishiha was called in the same way, he would probably cry.

“My role is to protect you, Niangniang. But there’s no point in leaving me behind so many times. It’s lonely to be left alone.”

When Tan Kai said he was lonely, Jusetsu felt like she had done something bad.

“…As long as you don’t attract attention, I don’t mind if you follow me.”

“Of course, Niangniang. I can be useful.”

“Tan Kai…”

Onkei’s stifled voice turned colder. However, Tan Kai walked alongside them with an expression of feigned ignorance.

Tan Kai was faithful to his own desires. This was all the more so because Onkei was a self-restrained and overly modest servant. He was the type of person who had never been around Jusetsu before. Tan Kai was clearly aware of his desires to do this and want that. That was something Jusetsu didn’t have. She wasn’t used to it, so she had a hard time dealing with him, but at the same time, her interest was piqued. She thought that Koushun and the others should imitate Tan Kai’s free-spiritedness to some extent.

“Onkei, what have you found out about that mound?” Jusetsu asked him as they walked.

“A veteran eunuch knew what it was. It’s a silkworm mound.”

“A silkworm mound?”

“It used to be a place to discard the silkworms that died during the rearing process and the carcasses of pupae created during silk production. However, it seemed to have turned into a mound where the silkworms are enshrined.”

“So it was a grave for silkworms?”

“Yes. Now, we sell the pupae to carp breeders, so there is no need for a place to discard them.”

“Carp breeders?”

“They say they make for good bait. Every time, the pupae carcasses are stuffed into bags and taken outside by the cocoonery eunuchs.”

She didn’t know silkworm carcasses could be used for fish food. It was much better than just throwing them away.

“The ghost of the silkworm mound, huh,” Jusetsu murmured to herself. She dwelled in the mound and took care of the silkworms in the cocoonery. Was she cursed by the silkworms even after death?

All things considered, she was a tranquil ghost.

She was a ghost with no stagnation, resentment, or bitterness within her body. She simply took care of the silkworms silently and returned to the mound once she finished. A quiet ghost.

“…What about the other matter?” Jusetsu asked Onkei to investigate one more thing in addition to the mound.

“There are fifteen palace ladies working in the cocoonery, and five more are added during the busiest periods. All of them are ladies of Hakkaku Palace, and when they aren’t looking after the silkworms, they return there.”

“They aren’t from Ga Province, are they?”

“No, they are all daughters of imperial capital merchants, wealthy farmers from neighboring villages, and scholar bureaucrats. The main caretakers are the daughters of farmers. Many of the farmers also raise silkworms, after all. Apparently, they learned how to raise Ga Province silkworms directly from the Crane Consort.”

“I see. You did a good job, researching all of that in only half a day.”

She thanked him. Onkei smiled slightly.

“Haha. Niangniang, are you thinking that the palace ladies are suspicious?” Tan Kai interjected. “The loss of the cocoons was the work of a palace lady, not a ghost. Isn’t that right?”

He was perceptive. Jusetsu had Onkei investigate the backgrounds of the palace ladies who worked at the cocoonery.

“If that ghost had been stealing cocoons, then the rumors should have been about that in the first place. However, that wasn’t the case. The ghost only appears to take care of the silkworms. Also…the silkworms of Ga Province are of high value. It would be reasonable to assume that someone took advantage of the rumors of the ghost to steal the cocoons.”

“You’re saying that it was a palace lady taking care of the silkworms who was able to do that?”

“The cocoons disappeared while the palace ladies were taking care of them. It would be difficult for anyone else to do it. They said that the room and clothes of the ladies were searched at the time of the loss, but there must have been some way to hide the cocoons. It is more reasonable than thinking that an outsider did it.”

“So, you’re going to go cross examine the palace ladies now?”

“I won’t do something like that. There is a palace lady I must question first.”

“That Nen Shuuji girl?”

“No. –Onkei.”

Onkei nodded as though he knew what she was thinking. “I know who the palace lady was who said she saw a ghost on the day the cocoons were lost.”

Jusetsu smiled. Onkei understood very well.

“That palace lady stole the cocoons?” Tan Kai asked.

“If it was the palace lady who stole the cocoons, we can blame it on the ghost who appeared,” Jusetsu replied.

“But the ghost does exist, so it wouldn’t be strange for it to appear that day. It’s also possible that another palace lady took advantage of the ghost commotion to steal them—oh, did that palace lady say that there was a ghost because she knew that the cocoons went missing?”

That doesn’t make any sense, Tan Kai answered his own question.

“Precisely. If one were to take advantage of a commotion, one would make a scene at the moment the ghost appeared in order to divert everyone’s attention. However, in reality, such a commotion didn’t occur. It was only after the loss was discovered that she claimed to have seen the ghost.”

“Then, they were trying to steal the cocoons and pass it off as the work of the ghost?” Tan Kai said.

“Perhaps,” Jusetsu replied. She then asked Onkei, “What is the background of that lady?”

“She is the daughter of a wealthy farmer.”

“Then, she must also have connections to sericulture farmers.”

If she didn’t, then there was no point in getting her hands on one or two cocoons. She wouldn’t be able to make them emerge or breed.

“We don’t know the sexes of the lost cocoons, but if they crossbreed them with the silkworms from the sericulture farmers, they could create a silkworm breed that is descended from the Saname silkworms. Or, if the cocoons are a male and female pair, then the breed will be pure Saname. The closely guarded Saname silkworms will be leaked out into the outside world.”

“…It’s become serious, isn’t it?” Tan Kai scratched his head.

“It’s very serious. We’re preparing for the visit of Saname Chouyou. It would be very bad if the cocoons have already been taken outside.”

But this was the inner palace. There weren’t many opportunities to have contact with the outside world. The cocoons were probably still hidden somewhere.

“I think it would be better to inform Dajia—no, the Crane Consort first.”

“I’ll do it once we find out if it is the work of the palace lady. I’m also concerned about Shuuji.”

“She suddenly told you to stop investigating the ghost incident.”

“Yes. What do you think?”

“Yeah, that’s how it always goes,” Tan Kai said with a faint smile. “She must have been threatened.”

In front of the cocoonery, Jusetsu and the two eunuchs split into two groups. In order to avoid Shuuji’s notice, they had Onkei first ask for that aforementioned palace lady. Jusetsu and Tan Kai decided to wait for her behind an inconspicuous building.

Unlike yesterday, they went around the back gate and entered where no one could see them. Eunuchs were still working in the back building as seen from the front gate. They seemed to be cleaning with all the doors open. Some were carrying mulberry branches outside, while others were sweeping the floors with brooms.

“Was this the mulberry storage room?”

“Yes it was. They’ve finished taking care of the silkworms, so I guess they’re cleaning up.”

Jusetsu called out to one of the eunuchs who was tying mulberry branches together with a string. He was a small-framed, young, and quite good-looking eunuch. The eunuchs who worked at the consorts’ palaces were usually chosen for their looks. He seemed to think that Jusetsu was a fellow eunuch, as he wiped his sweat and casually replied with “What?”

“Are you going to throw away those branches?”

“Of course not,” the eunuch said with wide eyes. “You can’t waste even one thing in the inner palace. Everything belongs to Dajia. These can be used for dye or firewood.”

“I see. The pupae are also used as carp bait, yes?”

“Yep.”

The eunuch carried the bundle of branches and moved them next to the gate. There was a pile of branches there. While thinking about how these branches could be used for many purposes, Jusetsu went towards the cocoonery building. There was no one around the room where the silkworms were raised, because there were no more silkworms. On the other hand, she could hear the sounds of people working from another room.

“Now that the cocoon selection is over, the next task is to retrieve the threads.”

Hearing Tan Kai’s words, Jusetsu stopped. “Do you know much about silkworms?”

“I wouldn’t say I know much, but the family I was born into also raised them. It’s common for large mansions to build their own cocooneries and procure silk, in our dom…I mean, region.”

He was about to say “our domain.”

Jusetsu stared at Tan Kai’s face. She heard that before becoming a eunuch, he had been a bandit. But she didn’t know who he was before becoming a bandit. When he was captured by the constables, he was made to become a eunuch because of his good looks. Not only that, but there was an elegance to his features.

He might have come from some prestigious family. She wouldn’t pry into it unless he himself said anything, though.

“…When you say retrieving the threads, do you mean taking the threads from the cocoons?”

Jusetsu went to the back of the building.

“They boil the cocoons in hot water and look for the thread end. Then, they pull out the thread. I watched them do it when I was a child, and it’s really an expert skill. They boil the pupae inside to kill it. There is another way to kill the pupae by drying the cocoon, but that doesn’t produce the unique luster, apparently.”

Indeed, steam was coming out from the lattice windows of the room. As she peeked into it, a voice called out to her.

“Niangniang,” It was Onkei. There was a palace lady standing behind him. She must be the one.

“This is the palace lady who saw the ghost on the day the cocoons disappeared, but…” Onkei said, but he looked a little confused. Jusetsu wondered why. “She says that she wants to tell you about the ghost.”

Hmm? Jusetsu tilted her head. What is the meaning of this?

“My name is Man Jakusui,” the palace lady introduced herself and bowed. Jusetsu had seen her in the cocoonery yesterday. She was an unassuming-looking girl with slanted eyebrows. Her cheeks were as white and smooth as a cocoon.

“You want to talk to me about the ghost?”

“Yes,” Jakusui straightened herself. “Um…yesterday, I was hesitating over whether or not I should tell you right away.”

“What is it?”

“It was different.”

“What’s different?” Jakusui wasn’t getting to her point.

“So, um…” The reason Jakusui was stumbling over her words so much was because she didn’t know how to put it into words. Jakusui gestured frustratedly and repeated her words.

“It’s the ghost.”

Jusetsu was silent for a minute.

“The ghost was different. In other words, are you trying to say that the ghost you saw and the ghost from yesterday are different people?”

“Yes, yes,” Jakusui nodded several times.

What does that mean?

“When the cocoons disappeared, we were in the process of checking the conditions of the cocoons. We observed the progress of each cocoon on the holders and recorded it down. These records are important at every stage of rearing. They will be used as reference for producing more good-quality cocoons during subsequent rearings. As we were concentrating on this task, I suddenly noticed that the palace lady across from me was different from the one I was used to seeing, so I looked up. Then…”

It was a face I had never seen before.

“I heard that the cocoonery is haunted, so I thought, Oh, this is the ghost. I don’t even remember the details of her outfit or hair, but the ghost from yesterday had a completely different face. It’s more, well…childish, I feel. She had a cute round face and wide eyes.”

Also, she added. “Although it was faint, it looked like she was wearing makeup. We don’t wear makeup. This is to avoid accidentally contaminating the room and the silkworms, especially when the cocoons are formed. If the cocoons get dirty with white powder or rouge, they will be ruined.”

“But the ghost was wearing makeup.”

“Yes. I was busy, so I can’t stop working even when I think I see a ghost. Also, I was so scared and surprised that I couldn’t even make a sound. I guess you could say that I was afraid of raising my voice and being noticed… That was how I felt at the time. I tried not to look at her too much, but I tried to catch it out of the corner of my eye, and the ghost quickly moved from its spot.”

“Moved? It didn’t disappear?”

“She disappeared from my sight. She didn’t vanish into mist. Everyone around me was working busily, so once it disappeared from sight, it could get lost in the shuffle. But then, once we found out that some cocoons went missing, there was a big panic.”

Jusetsu pondered. If this palace lady is the one who stole cocoons, there would be no need to talk about this. All she had to do was to say that she saw a ghost, and that it was definitely that ghost. Because Jusetsu had no way of determining whether or not that was a lie. All Jakusui needed was to have the guts to stick with her lie, and if she didn’t, she would be coming clean. She didn’t need to talk about this unnecessary stuff.

“…Why didn’t you tell me right away yesterday?”

“I was wondering if I was imagining things, and what if the ghost cursed me too for telling someone about—”

“Cursed? What do you mean, you too?”

“Oh, um, there was a ghost commotion last night.”

“A ghost commotion…”

She suddenly had a realization. So that’s what that was about?

Jusetsu turned to Jakusui. “Can you call Nen Shuuji over here?”

“Yes, it’s no problem.”

Jakusui jogged back to the cocoonery.

“Are you letting that palace lady go?” Tan Kai asked doubtfully.

“Yes” was all Jusetsu said.

“Then, Niangniang, you think her story was true. That means…”

“There are two ghosts.”

Previous || Index || Next

The moon sank into the sea and became two gods:

One the god of shadow, one the god of light

Eight thousand nights they spent at the sea.

The first god secluding in the black palace

The second god cavorting in the palace of the moon

And thus, one became Kakurenomiya

And the other became Sasaranomiya

Another god became the port of Kakurenomiya

This was the Great Sea Turtle God

The god had sinned, and was thus rent into eight parts

The flowing water carried them away from the palace

Its head was Jie, its arms were Bahuang, its legs were Gulu

Its carapace became canyons, its blood transformed into rivers

Its eyes became swamps, its breath became a maelstrom that called the tide

Ears of rice ripened in its rotting flesh and degenerated into seeds

The mulberry tree grows, the silkworm grows, and mankind grows

Its bones were made one once again, and the white turtle god was formed

His name was Gou-no-Kami

This god calmed the violent seas to protect ships

The descendants of these gods began

The bloodline of the white king, the emperor—

――From a ritual song of wubangs

There were bundles of raw silk packed in a wooden box in front of Banka. The milk-colored raw silk, resembling morning mist, had a moist luster. Her father, Chouyou, had sent her some of the finest raw silk from Ga Province.

Ga Province’s raw silk was considered to be of the highest quality in the nation of Shou. The province’s sericulture industry began with the silkworms brought by the Saname clan when they migrated here from Kakami, and it had the reputation it developed today after Chouyou devoted himself to selectively breeding the silkworms. Banka had been taking care of the silkworms since childhood under his orders. Spring silkworms, summer silkworms, autumn silkworms, late-autumn silkworms…everyday, she picked mulberry leaves, fed them to the silkworms, cleaned, moved the place where they made their cocoons during their maturing period, sorted them based on their shells after they became cocoons, and repeated that year after year.

Banka liked listening to the sound of the silkworms eating mulberry leaves. When she sat in a corner of the cocoonery and listened closely to the sound of silkworms feasting on the leaves, she felt calm as if being enveloped in gentle rain. It was the sound of life itself.

That was why, when she watched the sorted cocoons being boiled in hot water and their threads taken out, she felt a cold shadow in her heart. The sound of boiling water was the sound of life being torn away. However, the threads spun in this way shined coldly and was above all beautiful.

Whenever the silk slid over her skin, there was always a blue-black chill, like a winter shade.

Banka picked up a bundle of raw silk from the box.

The bundle was tied with paper. Banka stuck her finger in there. Unscrupulous merchants would cheat the weight by rolling in lead or scrap iron into the bundles. Of course, there were no such tricks in packages from her father, but there were other tricks. Banka’s finger felt for the paper string pasted to the back of the paper. Unlike ordinary letters, letters he didn’t want other people seeing were always delivered in this way. She removed the paper string and opened it carefully. A short sentence written in her father’s handwriting was on the thin strip of paper.

“Don’t get involved with the Raven Consort.”

Banka’s breath caught.

Why?

Her father’s written orders never contained reasons. Banka simply obeyed his words. That was why she informed him about everything that happened in the inner palace, and let him know how the emperor looked whenever she was near him. She could do these things only because she thought it was for the best interests of her father, and by extension, the Saname clan.

That was why she wrote about Jusetsu’s secret in her letter. The fact that she hid the color of her hair.

She told him the secret of Jusetsu, who saved her life, who she even wanted to be friends with.

After much hesitation, she weighed Jusetsu and her father, and in the end, Banka chose her father.

She didn’t know why her father, who knew Jusetsu’s secret, ordered her “not to get involved with her.”

However, she didn’t need to be ordered to do that. She didn’t know what kind of face she should make when she saw Jusetsu from now on. They could no longer be friends.

Banka stroked the raw silk. It was cool, but she felt a heat that bounced off her hand as she stroked it. It was the heat of life. Of harvested life.

I’m sure I don’t hold a heat like this.

Banka recalled the sorting of cocoons. It was the work of sorting the good cocoons from the bad ones. Among the bad ones, there was the so-called dead cocoons. The moth had died inside the cocoon and it rotted. A rotten, mushy cocoon.

I’m the same as them.

Unbeknownst to anyone, I rotted on the inside, and now I’m dead on the inside…

“I heard that there’s a ghost in the cocoonery.”

Jiujiu didn’t talk about that rumor until nightfall. As the weather got cooler day by day, the sun set earlier. As usual, Yamei Palace was quietly plunged into darkness without any of the lanterns lit. The sound of insects could be heard in the distance. The only people in the room were Jusetsu and her attendant, Jiujiu. Even though Jusetsu told her it was fine, Jiujiu stayed up with her until late at night. This was because of the guests who visited the Raven Consort at night. They relied on the black-clad consort would accept any request from searching for lost items to curse killings, so the people of the inner palace hid away from prying eyes in the darkness of the night and came here.

“Where?” Jusetsu asked back at the unfamiliar words.

“The cocoonery. It’s the place where the silkworms are raised.”

“There was something like that in the inner palace?”

“Apparently, there is a mulberry grove north of Hakkaku Palace. It’s located there. It was also there during the previous dynasty and the reign of the emperor before the last. The previous emperor’s wife disliked silkworms, so the cocoonery was demolished, but His Majesty built a new one. You see, the Crane Consort’s family runs a thriving sericulture business.”

“Banka’s family…the Saname clan?”

“Yes. The cocoonery was built for the Crane Consort. Apparently, she also helped raise silkworms back home. It’s the palace ladies of the Hakkaku Palace who work in this cocoonery, though.”

This is where we come to the main topic, Jiujiu said.

“People are saying that it’s haunted.”

“Oh? Is it a silkworm ghost?”

“No, it’s the ghost of a palace lady.”

According to Jiujiu, this was the story.

During the previous dynasty, there was a palace lady who worked in the cocoonery. One time, she accidentally stepped on a silkworm and killed it. But she kept silent without confessing her crime. After all, she would be punished if she did. That night, however, she suddenly began to suffer in pain and started to vomit silk from her mouth. The raw silk kept coming out without ever ending. Her body wasted away as more silk came out. When one of the palace ladies hurriedly cut the silk with a pair of scissors, she collapsed and died. Her hair had become white like raw silk.

“It’s the silkworm’s curse,” Jiujiu said fearfully and pressed her hand to her cheek. Jusetsu tilted her head to the side.

“Then is that not a story about a palace lady who was cursed and killed? I don’t believe it has to do with the ghost.”

“That’s where the story begins, Niangniang. The ghost of the palace lady who died from this curse is said to haunt the cocoonery. It’s said that she would appear there from time to time and take care of the silkworms while mixed in with the other palace ladies. She blends into the group while no one is paying attention, and once someone realizes that she’s there, she disappears. They say that she also showed up during the reign of the emperor before the last. The cocoonery didn’t exist during the previous reign, so it seemed that she never appeared, but—”

“After the cocoonery was rebuilt, the ghost appeared again.”

“That’s right, Niangniang,” Jiujiu nodded deeply.

“She didn’t seem to have harmed or cursed the other palace ladies, but the Hakkaku Palace palace ladies are terrified.”

“Did you hear that from them?”

“No, from a palace lady at Enou Palace. I heard it when I went there to get scrap paper for Ishiha’s writing practice.”

Yamei Palace’s boy eunuch, Ishiha, was currently learning to read and write, and he needed all the paper that he could get. That was why they asked for scrap paper from many people.

Every palace had chatty palace ladies, and Jiujiu gathered gossip whenever she went on such errands. She got useful information, as well as trivial ghost stories.

“If it didn’t come from the people involved, then there is no way to know how true it is.”

“Shall I ask a palace lady from Hakkaku Palace, then?”

“You need not go that—” Jusetsu stopped and looked at the doors. Xingxing the golden bird was flapping its wings. They had a visitor.

“Niangniang,” the voice that came from the other side of the door belonged to her bodyguard eunuch, Onkei. “I’ve brought a palace lady who got lost in the woods.”

Yamei Palace was surrounded by a lush forest of laurels and rhododendrons. The forest, which was dim even during the day, was even darker at night when the moon was covered with clouds like today. One could lose their way if one wasn’t careful.

When the doors opened, Onkei brought with him a petite palace lady who had an anxious expression on her face. She knelt in front of Jusetsu and bowed. Onkei went back outside after saying, “Tan Kai will slack off immediately if you take your eyes off him.” Tan Kai was her other bodyguard eunuch. Contrary to the taciturn and austere Onkei, he was chatty and often lazy.

“Lady Raven Consort, I have come to ask you for a favor.”

After saying that, the palace lady prostrated herself in front of Jusetsu as kowtowing towards her. Her feeble voice sounded strained. She seemed to have an urgent request.

“I cannot hear you very well from there. Come here and sit down.”

Jusetsu pointed to the chair across from her. The palace lady stood up, looking somewhat puzzled, and hesitantly walked over.

“Your name?” Jusetsu asked bluntly.

“My family name is Nen, and my given name is Shuuji. I belong to Hakkaku Palace, but I mainly work in the cocoonery.”

Jusetsu met eyes with Jiujiu, who was standing next to her. She knew that even without going to Hakkaku Palace, if something really happened, someone would come here. But she never expected them to show up at such a convenient time.

“Is there a ghost haunting the cocoonery?”

“You knew about that, Lady Raven Consort?”

As expected of the Raven Consort, Shuuji said in awe, but Jusetsu corrected her. “No, I merely overheard the rumors.” It would be troublesome if people thought she could read minds.

“I heard that it’s the ghost of a palace lady.”

“Yes. Apparently, it’s the ghost of a palace lady who died from the silkworm’s curse in the previous dynasty.”

Shuuji’s story about the ghost was the same as the rumors Jusetsu heard from Jiujiu.

“Before I knew it, that ghost was in the cocoonery. When I was carrying the mulberry leaves and feeding the silkworms, I was so busy that I barely even glanced at all the palace ladies’ faces. Then, when I suddenly looked up, I saw an unfamiliar palace lady giving mulberry leaves to the silkworms. I cried out in surprise, and she suddenly disappeared. There are others who had seen her besides me.”

Shuuji said that since, the ghost had often appeared in the cocoonery.

“But if that was all, I wouldn’t have come here to consult you, Lady Raven Consort. Taking care of the silkworms is a busy job, so we honestly don’t have time to worry about one or two ghosts. She appears suddenly and disappears just as suddenly, and she’s harmless, so everyone soon got used to her. We were more focused on successfully raising the silkworms and making them into good cocoons.”

But then…Shuuji’s face clouded over.

“Someone has been harmed?”

Shuuji nodded. “Yes. But no one has been sick or injured. No, it’s more worrisome than that.”

With a pale face, she lowered her head.

“Worrisome?”

“Cocoons have gone missing.”

Jusetsu was somewhat disappointed. “That’s worrisome?”

“It’s very important to us. The silkworms raised in that house belong to the Crane Consort, and by extension, His Majesty. We must not let even a single one die in vain, much less letting them go missing.”

“How many are missing?”

“Two as of now.”

“How do you know that only a few have been lost? You must be raising a lot of silkworms in the cocoonery.”

“It would be almost impossible to tell when they are larvae, but when they are matured silkworms, that is, ready to make cocoons, they are moved to a cocoon-making area made of straw called the cocoon holders. We put one silkworm in there each morning, so we would know if the cocoons that have formed there are missing. The missing cocoons were the ones that had been completed and all that remained was to remove the fluff, but yesterday, when we suddenly took our eyes off them, they were gone…”

“Are you saying that’s the work of the ghost?”

“Of course, at first, we thought that maybe they had fallen out of the cocoon holders for some reason, so we searched not only the floor, but also the entire room. We even searched the palace ladies’ clothing. But we couldn’t find them. In the midst of all this, one palace lady mentioned something. She said that the ghost had appeared right before the cocoons went missing. She thought it was the aforementioned ghost, so she let her be, just like everyone else… I have never seen the ghost take a cocoon, but there is no other way. After we entered the house, no one left until the loss was discovered. Even so, the cocoons weren’t found in the room or the clothing. So it cannot be that one of us took them. In the first place, we are the ones who will be punished if a cocoon goes missing, so there is no way one of us would do something like that.”

“Indeed, your logic is sound,” Jusetsu nodded.

“Because the cocoons have yet to be collected, the cocoon numbers haven’t been reported to the Crane Consort yet. So, we all decided to claim that the cocoons died. …Um…”

Shuuji glanced at Jusetsu.

“I won’t tell the Crane Consort.”

After Jusetsu said that, Shuuji looked relieved and continued talking.

“However, if the ghost appears again and takes more cocoons…starting tomorrow, we will have to collect the finished cocoons. After collecting them and sorting them into good cocoons and bad, if some of the good ones disappear, it will all be over. They are counted, so we can’t cover it up.”

Punishment would then await them. That was why Shuuji called it worrisome.

“The ghost of a palace lady who died after being cursed by the silkworms is now taking their cocoons…” Jusetsu murmured.

“Even if you cover up the loss this time, it would difficult to do it again in the future.”

“Yes. In the Crane Consort’s cocoonery, we raise silkworms three times in spring, summer, and autumn. I feel my body wasting away when I think of the possibility of this happening again.”

Shuuji covered her face with her sleeve. Hmm, Jusetsu pondered.

“If it really is the work of ghosts, then we would be one step behind if we take our time investigating the ghost’s circumstances. For the time being, I can create a barrier in the cocoonery to prevent the ghost from appearing…”

“Can you really do that?” Shuuji raised her head.

“I cannot say anything unless I see the ghost.”

“Yes, by all means, please go ahead.”

Shuuji looked overjoyed enough to clasp Jusetsu’s hands, but her expression immediately darkened again.

“Lady Raven Consort, I have another problem.”

“What is it?”

“It’s the missing cocoons. If it’s true that they are completely gone, then it’s fine, but if the ghost took them somewhere else, that would be a problem.”

“Why?”

“The silkworms in that house are Ga Province silkworms. They are not local. In the event that those silkworms emerge and cross-breed with wild or domestic silkworms in this area, that will cause great problems. It will ruin their breed.”

“Ah…I see.”

Problems like that exist? She thought

“Then, do you want me to find the location of the cocoons?”

“The moths emerge from their cocoons after about ten days. We have to find them before that…”

Shuuji covered her face. She seemed overwhelmed by this sudden disaster.

“I think it would be a good idea to explain the situation to Banka—the Crane Consort. I don’t think she would give you a severe punishment.”

“…That may be true for the Crane Consort, but…” Shuuji trailed off and looked down. “Her father…”

“Banka’s father? The head of the Saname clan?”

“Yes…” Shuuji’s gaze wandered. “The Crane Consort’s father is very strict, and she cannot go against him. If he tells her to hand down a strict punishment, she will obey him.”

He’s the man who told Banka to choose between her own life or the life of her adopted sister.

The Saname clan was cursed by a god to have the youngest daughter of the clan head to die at fifteen. In order to circumvent that, a girl younger than Banka was adopted into the clan. Banka begged her father to save her sister, but he told her that she herself should choose to die instead if that was the case. As a result, the adopted daughter died, and Banka lived. Jusetsu wondered what kind of man Saname Chouyou was for forcing his daughter to make such a choice.

Shuuji covered her mouth with her sleeve.

“I’ve said too much. Please forget it.”

Jusetsu promised to go to the cocoonery tomorrow, and then Shuuji left.

“The Crane Consort seems to be an easygoing person, but her father is very strict. Even the palace ladies are afraid of him,” Jiujiu, who had been standing by in silence, opened her mouth like she couldn’t wait to speak. “The behavior of a consort will probably reflect the inclinations of her family to some extent…”

Jusetsu turned her face to the window. She couldn’t see Hakkaku Palace from here.

If Banka—Hakkaku Palace was at the will of Saname Chouyou, that was something to think about.

Koushun probably already knows about it.

The face of the inscrutable young emperor appeared in her mind. Neither his consorts nor their families were something for Jusetsu to worry about. From the start, the Raven Consort had nothing to do with the outside.

“…”

Jusetsu narrowed her eyes at the melting darkness of the night outside the window.

A lush green mulberry grove could be seen on the other side of Hakkaku Palace.

“Is that it?” Jusetsu muttered. “Yes, niangniang,” Onkei answered from behind her. He was accompanying her to the cocoonery this morning.

“The mulberry grove has been around since the previous dynasty, and it was still maintained even when there was no cocoonery.”

“Why are silkworms raised in the inner palace?”

“It’s more the imperial palace rather than the inner palace. There is also a cocoonery in the outer court. They say that breed improvement and research are being conducted there. Originally, raw silk for the emperor and imperial family were produced there.”

“So, the cocoonery in the inner palace is for the consorts?”

“Yes. I heard it used to be quite large.”

Since Onkei said that, Jusetsu imagined a small hut. However, the cocoonery that appeared before her was quite a respectable building. It certainly didn’t have the magnificence of a consort’s palace, but it had three buildings roofed with blue-glazed roof tiles, and it was encircled with mud roof walls. From the front building, they could hear the sounds and voices of the palace ladies busy at work, and in the back building, they could see eunuchs coming and going with bundles of firewood.

“The mulberry storehouse is in the back, and the cocoonery is in the front.”

Onkei explained. He was sent here as a spy on Ei Sei’s orders, so he knew most of the things here, which was helpful. He was a beautiful eunuch with cool eyes and a single scar running across his cheek. He was a skillful guard, but he was also a very capable servant, with his attention to small details, a shadow-like unassumingness in all things, and his efficiency in carrying out tasks.

Jusetsu headed for the building in front. Before she could climb the steps, the doors opened and a palace lady hurried out. It was Shuuji.

“My deepest apologies for not noticing your arrival, Lady Raven Consort. I was watching the outside, but I thought you were a eunuch…”

“That’s fine. It would be unfavorable to me if I were recognized from a distance.”

In order to not be recognized by Hakkaku Palace, Jusetsu came here dressed as a eunuch. It really was convenient. Although Jiujiu, who wanted to dress her up, complained about it.

Jusetsu peered into the cocoonery and saw that the palace ladies seemed to be collecting cocoons. When they heard that the Raven Consort was here, they stopped what they were doing, got onto their knees and bowed.

“Continue your work. Other people will suspect something.”

The palace ladies obediently returned to work. There were rows of shelves and long tables, and on top of the tables, there were bellows-shaped objects woven from straw. When she saw the cocoons hanging from them, she thought that they must be the tools called cocoon holders that Shuuji talked about last night. The palace ladies removed the cocoons and placed them on trays.

“Right now, we’re collecting cocoons. After this, we will remove the fluff stuck to them and separate them into good ones and bad ones. The difference is whether or not they are suitable for turning into thread or not. Double cocoons consisting of two silkworms becoming one cocoon, thin cocoons, cocoons with holes, cocoons with rotting dead moths inside, cocoons soiled with urine and other bodily fluids, cocoons with marks left from the holders…they will all be removed,” Shuuji explained. “Furthermore, the good cocoons are divided into those that will be used to make thread, and those that will be made to emerge to lay eggs. The thread will be offered to the Crane Consort, and after that, she will present them to His Majesty.”

“Once the good cocoons are selected, not a single one of them will be lost, right?”

Yes, Shuuji lowered her eyes. In other words, there could be no deferment. Jusetsu put her hand to her hair and realized that she didn’t have her usual flowers there. Even though she dressed as a eunuch often, she kept forgetting about it.

She held her hand out forward and gathered heat in her palm. A light crimson haze flickered, tangled, and intertwined. The haze transformed into petals, one by one, and formed a peony flower. Jusetsu blew on it.

The flower turned into smoke and scattered. It floated around, swimming between the palace ladies.

The pale red smoke gradually gathered in one place and began to take the form of a person. It was the figure of a woman. A simple hairpin was tucked into her chignon, and her pale, slender face had well-shaped eyebrows that looked as if they were drawn with a brush and thin-lidded eyes. The long robes that enveloped her thin body weren’t in the current fashion, but her modest yet elegant appearance gave her the look of a court servant.

Shuuji let out a small cry and covered her mouth with her sleeve.

“T-That’s the ghost of the palace lady I saw!”

The other palace ladies had also stopped what they were doing and stared wide-eyed at the ghost.

The ghost suddenly moved amidst those stares. She soundlessly went towards the door. Jusetsu leaned back halfway and made way for the ghost. The ghost disappeared as though sucked into the door.

She went outside.

“L-Lady Raven Consort—”

“We’re going after her,” Jusetsu interrupted Shuuji and called out to Onkei. He quickly opened the door.

When they went outside, they saw the ghost from behind about to leave through the gate. Jusetsu followed her. There were no sounds of foodsteps or rustling of clothes, but the ghost’s gait was similar to that of the living. What was different was that the hem of her robes didn’t flutter and her sleeves didn’t sway. If such ghosts were to simply stand still among the palace ladies, even the people next to them wouldn’t realize that they were ghosts. Among the many courtiers in the inner palace, there might be ghosts mingled in with them, pretending to be the living.

The ghost left the cocoonery and headed further north. That was the outskirts of the inner palace. It was a neglected area with unkempt, overgrown trees, and there was no one in sight.

Jusetsu, who had been chasing the ghost, came to a slightly open space and stopped. There was something like a small burial mound covered in dense moss and grass there. The ghost had stopped in front of it. The sun shined down on the mound, and the moss glistened faintly. As they watched, the ghost seemed to melt into the mound and disappeared.

What is this mound?

It couldn’t belong to the ghost. It was difficult to imagine that a mere palace lady’s burial mound would be located inside the inner palace.

“Whose mound is this?”

She turned back to Onkei, but even he had a rare unknowing look on his face.

“I shall look into it.”

“Please do so.”

After that brief exchange, Jusetsu looked around. The area was surrounded by trees. There were old trees with ivy entwined around them, young trees lush with leaves, and trees that had already rotted and fallen. It was quiet. Judging by the trampled undergrowth, it seemed that it wasn’t completely unvisited by people. Did they come here to visit the mound? After checking the surroundings, Jusetsu returned to the cocoonery.

Shuuji was standing alone in front of the room from earlier, looking like she had nothing to do. Apparently, the other palace ladies moved to another room to remove the fuzz from the cocoons.

Jusetsu told her about the ghost disappearing into the mound, but Shuuji didn’t know anything about the mound either. In fact, this was the first time she heard about it.

“The outskirts of the inner palace are frightening, and as a woman, I can’t go there unless I have serious business…”

That did seem to be true.

“It would be easy to keep that ghost out of the cocoonery, but…” Jusetsu cut herself off there and pondered for a bit. That wasn’t enough. The cocoons must be found.

“I ask for your assistance,” Shuuji bowed to her. Jusetsu wasn’t a god, so being begged like this made her extremely uncomfortable.

“…Very well. I’ll create a barrier for now. Then I’ll see what I can find out about the mound.”

She took out a spindle wound with thread from her breast pocket. She went out to the outer corridor and asked Onkei to hold the end of the thread, then ran it along the floor, making a circle around the cocoonery. Finally, the barrier was created once she tied the ends together. It was a spell she used many times before. It wasn’t the Raven Consort’s spell, but a sorcerer’s spell.

She had learned it from Reijou, the previous Raven Consort, but in the previous dynasty, when sorcerers were able to frequent the inner palace, this kind of work was probably their job. They must have been valued.

No, it probably went beyond that.

She recalled the words of Ui, the keeper of the treasure room.

It was for protection against Wulian Niangniang, just in case

He told me that he couldn’t feel safe without the power to fight back…

There was probably a good reason why sorcerers were so highly regarded during the previous dynasty.

“Avoid stepping on the thread as much as possible. Though, as long as it doesn’t break when you step on it, it doesn’t matter.”

After giving Shuuji those warnings, Jusetsu left the room. The palace ladies were waiting outside, and they all knelt upon seeing her. Jusetsu was perplexed.

“Thank you very much, Lady Raven Consort.”

“I didn’t do much. Don’t make it to be more than it is. You were the ones who said that it would be all of you in trouble if outsiders learn about it.”

Even so, the palace ladies didn’t rise until Jusetsu passed through the gate. It seemed that the palace ladies of Hakkaku Palace held the Raven Consort in particular reverence, especially after the incident in which she saved Banka. Despite the fact that she really hadn’t done much.

 “And there’s also the cocoons…”

After leaving the cocoonery, Jusetsu stopped once and looked back. The gentle green of the mulberry trees shone in the morning sun. Here and there, there were sections where branches had been cut, probably for feeding the silkworms.

I’m good at looking for lost items, but…

It was different when it came to cocoons. Because they had no owner. Tracing lost items from their owners wasn’t difficult. However, cocoons were…

“Onkei,” Jusetsu called out to him while still looking at the mulberry grove. “In addition to the mound, there is something I want you to investigate.”

Yes, came his short reply.