Chapter Twenty-Six: Zhu Yunwen

Being pregnant and resting at home was truly boring. On a whim, I went to visit the home of an antique dealer named Mr. Bei. Since he had no storefront, he sold all his antiques from his residence, operating primarily through referrals from regular clients.

His house was a vintage red mansion. Stepping into the courtyard, I walked upon Ming Dynasty bricks that Mr. Bei had specially sourced from the countryside. A row of elegant, slender bamboo was planted along the wall, and in the center of the yard, an antique stone table, rich with ancient charm, sat waiting quietly. Many people loved coming here to drink tea, as it provided a feeling of having returned to a life from the past.

I have always loved ancient objects; deep in my bones, I have an obsession with old things. By sheer chance, I entered the antique circle and discovered I had a staggering talent for it. At first, I thought it was just innate ability, but later I learned that in a past life during the Republic of China, I had been the leading authority of the entire antique trade in Hunan, only to be hounded to death after my family home was raided.

When I was a teenager, I traveled to the ancient city of Fenghuang. The soul of a person from a past life, who had lingered in that city due to an obsession with antiques that went down to their very marrow, found me and awakened my self-taught talent and fascination for antiques. Even after I reached a reconciliation with that soul and personally sent it off to board the underworld carriage to return to Fenghuang, every time my eyes touched an antique bearing the traces of time, an uncontrollable tremor would inevitably surge in my heart.

On the day I visited, it happened that one of Mr. Bei’s regular clients was there to purchase ancient porcelain. Mr. Bei brought down an exquisite brocade box from upstairs. As it was gently opened, a porcelain bowl rested snugly on the soft velvet lining. Mr. Bei introduced it to the client as a piece from the Hongwu period of the early Ming Dynasty.

In this trade, I dealt mostly with jade and jewelry, so I wasn't very familiar with porcelain. I just instinctively felt the bowl was beautiful—its glaze was warm and moist, its luster restrained, and its blue patterns exquisite. I couldn't help but look at it a few times more. Suddenly, a dim, obscure black light flashed at the bottom of the bowl, coalescing into the shape of a man in agony. A thought surged in my mind: there was a powerful, vengeful spirit inside this bowl.

Many antiques contain a remnant of consciousness from their past owners. If that person died with great resentment or held a certain obsession with the object, a fragment of their soul would become one with it.

Until I got home for dinner, I was still preoccupied with the Ming Dynasty porcelain bowl. Not long after I fell asleep that night, an inexplicable sense of unease quietly crept over me, forcing me to struggle to open my heavy eyelids. In the haze, a strange figure appeared—a young maid dressed in simple, ancient attire, her hair tied in two buns, stood quietly by the bed. Her face was delicate, and a gentle yet slightly eerie smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She held a porcelain bowl in her hands—it was the very same Ming Hongwu bowl I had seen that afternoon.

A strange light flickered in the maid's eyes as she made a silent mouth movement toward me. Only then did I realize that her tongue had been cut out. My heart tightened, and after staring for a long time, I finally understood: she was saying, "There is poison in the bowl."

Suddenly, it felt as if I had stepped into a void, falling into a dark, deep tunnel. I kept running through it—it seemed to be a tunnel of historical time. As I passed each section, a glowing white character appeared above: from the ancient times to Shang, Zhou, Spring and Autumn, Warring States, Qin, and Han. When I reached the character for Ming, a massive force pulled me in.

Inside the Chunhe Hall, a seventeen or eighteen-year-old youth wearing the crown prince's robes sat on a yellow rosewood chair. Although he had a youthful face and features as beautiful as a painting, the manners and cultivation instilled by the royal family were ingrained in his every movement. Even as he held a teacup and listened to the reports below, he carried an air of noble self-restraint.

"The Second Imperial Uncle suppressed the rebellion in the west just a few days ago. How is it that he has returned to his old ways so soon after receiving praise from the Imperial Grandfather?" The youth's voice was warm and resonant.

"Reporting to Your Highness the Imperial Grandson, it is said that this time in the campaign, the Prince of Qin abducted many beautiful women, even taking away pregnant women," the subordinate’s voice paused, seemingly unable to bear speaking the rest. "He also... also abducted hundreds of young girls aged seven or eight to be child prostitutes, and abducted over a hundred and fifty young boys, castrating them to bring back to the Prince of Qin’s mansion as little eunuchs. I heard many boys died from the pain of castration. Not to mention the commoners in Xi’an and the servants in the Prince of Qin’s mansion—beheadings, killings, dismemberment, and slaughter were everyday occurrences."

Hearing this, the Imperial Grandson, Zhu Yunwen, felt a fire of extreme rage flash in his eyes. He slammed his teacup onto the tea table with a loud bang.

After a long while, he tried to calm himself and asked, "What does the Imperial Grandfather say?"

"The memorial submitted was suppressed by the Emperor, and... there has been no word of any punishment."

The Second Imperial Uncle, Prince of Qin Zhu Shuang, was the second son of Empress Ma, the wife the Imperial Grandfather had loved with all his heart. The Crown Prince, Zhu Biao, was already dead, and the Imperial Grandfather was suffering the agony of a white-haired man burying his child. It was understandable that he did not want to lose the second son born to Empress Ma. If the Second Uncle’s affairs were not investigated, it would be fine, but every single item unearthed was a capital crime punishable by the execution of his entire clan. The Imperial Grandfather knew this well.

Zhu Yunwen closed his eyes and made a silent decision. "You go and do one thing for me."

Half a month later, shocking news reached Yingtian Prefecture from Xi’an: the Prince of Qin, Zhu Shuang, had been poisoned to death in his own mansion by three maids. It was rumored that all three maids had previously had their tongues cut out by the Prince and, harboring deep hatred, had joined forces to seek revenge.

On the night the news arrived, Zhu Yunwen, without any attendants, knelt alone outside the Imperial Grandfather's sleeping quarters for an entire night. The candles in Zhu Yuanzhang's chambers also remained lit throughout the night.

At the break of dawn the next day, Zhu Yuanzhang stepped out of his palace wearing his dragon robes. The majesty of a ruler was unmistakable. In a low, heavy voice, he said, "If I were to strip you of your title as Imperial Grandson now, would you regret it?"

Zhu Yunwen replied with poise, "If the death of the Second Imperial Uncle alone can save the lives and safety of all the people of Xi’an, then it is worth it. Yunwen does not regret it!" Having said this, he kowtowed deeply.

Even though the entire court of civil and military officials knew of Zhu Shuang’s heinous crimes, who dared to suggest punishing the Emperor’s own son? The Imperial Grandfather could not bear to lay a hand on his own flesh and blood—that was fine, he would be the one to do it! That year, Zhu Yunwen was eighteen, and the first person he killed was his own uncle.

Lightning flashed outside the window, and rain poured down in torrents. I heard my mother in the next room cursing the weather while slamming the glass window shut. In the pitch-black night, I slowly opened my eyes. "Second Imperial Uncle, you have finally come for me."

"Zhu Yunwen—" A man dressed in the Ming Dynasty four-clawed dragon robes of a prince, his figure imposing and his hair disheveled, radiated a cold, evil aura. "Back then, you sent your subordinates to bribe the maids in my mansion to poison me. Today, I shall claim the life of your reincarnation."

I climbed out of bed, furious, and cursed, "So what if I killed you? You committed countless evils, slaughtered innocent commoners, and didn't even spare children. You pedophilic pervert, didn't you deserve to die?"

"Ah—" The Prince of Qin, Zhu Shuang, had not expected me to have the guts to confront him. "I want your life!"

As he lunged forward to strangle me, a young monk in a grey cassock suddenly blocked my path. The young monk was beautiful, not like a person of this mortal world. With his hands pressed together in prayer, his eyes held a compassion that saw through the ways of the world. "Second Imperial Uncle, it was I who took your life back then. You and I are nothing more than remnants of souls left behind from that lifetime. You have long since been reincarnated into the human world; why hold a grudge against her?"

"Fine! Since you dare to appear, I will first eradicate your soul, then kill this reincarnation."

Zhu Yunwen floated cross-legged in mid-air, holding Buddhist beads, and closed his eyes to chant scriptures. Waves of golden light radiated from his body. The Buddhist light shone upon the Prince of Qin, Zhu Shuang, as if scorching his skin; one could even hear the sizzling sound of skin being burned. Unable to withstand the Buddhist light, the Prince of Qin’s expression turned hideous and painful, yet he continued to spit out threats. "Zhu Yunwen, you just wait... I will bite your heart, liver, and intestines out piece by piece." Finally, he could only struggle through gritted teeth and lunge at the wall, disappearing through it.

After the Second Imperial Uncle vanished, Zhu Yunwen slowly stopped chanting. I looked at him with curiosity and voiced my thoughts, "I thought you would let him kill you to repay the debt of that life and appease his resentment." Isn't that how it’s written in dramas? The monk is merciful and willing to sacrifice himself to resolve the grudges of his enemies.

Zhu Yunwen smiled gently and shook his head. "If he killed me, he would surely kill you next. Why allow him to commit more sins? Besides, the karmic ties between him and me were already settled in that Ming Dynasty life. He is unwilling to accept his death at my hands; stopping killing with killing would only lead to an endless cycle of slaughter. You should go find Teacher Xing; he will tell you the cause and effect."

Zhu Yunwen recited a Buddhist phrase, and his figure dissolved into specks of golden light, dissipating into the air.

The next day, I went to the Taoist temple. Teacher Xing was brewing tea. I told him about what happened last night. Just as I finished, I felt a gust of cold wind behind me and saw Teacher Xing set down his tea cup with a dark expression, scolding in a sharp, stern voice, "Stop!"

I instinctively looked back and saw the Prince of Qin, Zhu Shuang, holding a cold long saber exuding thick, black, ominous energy. He had intended to strike me, but the moment his gaze met Teacher Xing's, he seemed terrified. The heavy saber slipped from his hand and clattered to the floor. He stumbled backward, retreating over a dozen steps, his eyes filled with unspeakable dread and fear. He mumbled, "Father... Father Emperor..."

What? Father Emperor?!

Just then, Teacher Yang happened to be finishing up her chores and walked over from the next room. Seeing this scene, she looked stunned and confused. "What is going on?"

The Prince of Qin, Zhu Shuang, looked at Teacher Yang, his eyes showing a glimmer of joy as if he had seen a savior. "Mother Empress, Mother Empress, save your son."

Teacher Xing ignored his pleas, coldly summoning the Black and White Impermanence. These two envoys from the underworld appeared silently beside the Prince of Qin, quickly shackling his wrists with cold chains and dragging him away without a word. Before he was hauled off, he still called out desperately, "Father Emperor, spare me! I will never dare to commit such wrongs again! Mother Empress, please save me..."

It took me a long time to come to my senses. It turned out that Teacher Xing’s past life was none other than Zhu Yuanzhang, the founding emperor of the Ming Dynasty who started with nothing but a bowl, and Teacher Yang was the legendary Empress Ma with the "big feet."

Teacher Xing told me that the Prince of Qin, Zhu Shuang’s past life, was Hu Hai of the Qin Dynasty. In that life, Hu Hai used Meng Tian to poison Fu Su. In the Ming Dynasty, Zhu Yunwen had likewise secretly instructed his confidants to end Zhu Shuang’s life with poison.

This is the cycle of karma. The killer will eventually, in some lifetime, use themselves as the catalyst to experience the pain of being killed. There are two ways to repay a debt: one is to be reincarnated as a loved one or partner, using endless warmth and companionship to make up for the debts of a past life. The other is to pay with one's life, using the cost of existence to balance the sins and punishments of the past.

That is why Zhu Yunwen said the karmic ties had already been settled in that Ming Dynasty life.