This dragon, coiled in the East, was wounded by a dagger while it dozed.

Afterward, the Ming Emperor Wuzong, enraged, personally led an expedition. He had already written his last edict, upholding the ancestral teaching that the Son of Heaven guards the nation’s gates and the monarch dies for the state. With the emperor leading the army himself, all of China was naturally stirred to wrath. United as one, they held out for years, developed rapidly, and finally, by the East Sea, at all costs, crushed many allied forces, letting the world hear the dragon’s roar.

But such things were still yet to come.

That year, the Japanese pirates took advantage of the Ming’s unguarded borders and drove straight in, with one force even entering Jiangnan.

They were full of themselves, thinking they were about to defeat the former overlord. After entering the prosperous Jiangnan, they indulged in pleasure, demanding the best wine, the best food, the best women for company, and the finest music. Nancy King, though young, was fiercely principled and would rather die.

But that day, more than thirty people from Chunxiao Brothel knelt at her door, even the mother who had brought her back begged her bitterly.

In the end, she still went to accompany those pirates.

No one from Chunxiao Brothel died.

After the Ming tiger soldiers swept away those pirates and peace returned to Jiangnan, rumors and gossip began to spread. Everyone knew that forcing someone else to sacrifice for you was hard to bear on one’s face, so they had to smear that person to claim the moral high ground for themselves.

So, news spread from who knows where, saying that Nancy King had volunteered to accompany the pirates.

And then the whole city was abuzz with gossip.

After intense tension, people needed an outlet. Rational voices were drowned out by this venting.

People began to throw rotten eggs and vegetable leaves at Nancy King’s door.

Many started cursing her as a shameless prostitute with no integrity.

But Nancy King was still waiting, waiting for the man who had promised her a future, who was now studying away from home.

She waited and waited, until no one listened to her sing anymore, until the red silk on the wooden building faded.

That man never returned.

Nancy King, wearing the wedding dress she had sewn herself, threw herself into a well.

That autumn, a vast, white snow fell.

The already faded red silk was as white as funeral banners, fluttering on the wooden building.

……

The story finished, the old man poured himself another cup of tea, already more than half drunk.

Evan Wade hadn’t touched his tea at all.

“So…”

He rubbed the teacup and said, “That man let her down?”

The old man wiped away tears that had appeared at some point and said:

“He did let her down, but also didn’t.”

“He joined the army, as a student soldier.”

“In those days, he helped resist the main force of the crazed pirates. He wrote letters to Nancy King, many of them.”

Evan Wade asked, “Why didn’t he come back?”

The old man fell silent, then said, “…Because he died, killed in battle.”

“If it had been just three days sooner, the compensation report and those letters would have reached Jiangnan, and Nancy King wouldn’t have had to die.”

Evan Wade was silent. He put down his teacup and said, “May I see those letters?”

The old man nodded, staggered to his feet, and slowly walked back into the house. From the most conspicuous place, he took out a small box. Inside was a grayish photo, a stack of letters written in a strong hand, the last few stained with deep marks.

The old man handed the items to Evan Wade: “Take a look, take a look. These stories mustn’t be forgotten.”

“When I die, someone still needs to know.”

“I still owe Nancy King three kowtows, want to say sorry. Back then, I was afraid to die and couldn’t speak up for her…”

Evan Wade took the box, looking at the photo from that era pasted on top—gray and white, a young scholar smiling brightly, and a shy young girl. That was their past, the last knot in the vengeful ghost’s heart.

If burned and turned into talisman water, it would cause great harm to the vengeful ghost.

And if burned in front of the ghost, it could even cause her to break down on the spot.

In Evan Wade’s ears, the soul of the Qi family army echoed, and he hesitated, pleading:

“Sir…”

Evan Wade looked at the words on the letter, full of passionate longing, hopes for the future, and love for the land beneath his feet. He nodded slightly, gave a soft “mm,” and had no intention of burning the letters. Instead, he carefully put the box away, adjusted the qin case and sword box on his back to a ready position, then looked at the old man who had sat back under the tree and said:

“Sir, can you still walk? I’d like to go see that Chunxiao Brothel.”

“This isn’t Chunxiao Brothel, is it?”

The old man’s cloudy eyes looked at his own hands and murmured:

“This isn’t.”

“I want to go see it too, one last look.”

“But the sunlight outside is too harsh, and my body can’t move anymore. I’ve tried many times, but I can never leave this courtyard.”

Evan Wade said, “Let me help you.”

He went out for a while, found a black cloth umbrella at an old shop, came back, opened the umbrella, and supported the old man with one hand. The old man also mustered his strength, once, twice, and suddenly stood up. Evan Wade quietly watched the old tree behind the old man, withdrew his left hand, drew the broken sword that held the soul of the Qi family army from his waist, held it in reverse like a dagger, and cut off a thin branch.

The branch trembled.

Evan Wade sheathed the broken sword and supported the old man as they walked forward.

They opened the door.