The Half-Spirit Princess - Chapter 3

Thanks to Mother’s preference for wealth over poverty, I was born a prince’s daughter, enjoying all the comforts the realm could offer and a most exalted status.

One day, the Marchioness of Wumu sent an invitation for Mother and me to admire the flowers at her residence.

Flowers were the excuse. There was another purpose entirely.

My imperial uncle wanted me to marry Qi Zhao, the legitimate son of a duke’s principal wife, and hoped we could meet beforehand.

It would be ideal if we liked each other. If we truly couldn’t stand one another, His Majesty wouldn’t force it. The world didn’t need another unhappy couple.

In the rear garden, I looked where the marchioness pointed. Qi Zhao was painting in a waterside pavilion.

My first impression was excellent. Tall and slender, he stood as gracefully as a fine tree. His face was sharply defined, with bright eyes, strong brows, and a straight, high nose.

Exactly my type.

He was concentrating on his painting, his brows slightly drawn together. His long fingers had distinct knuckles, and every sweep and lift of his brush was vigorous and assured.

Beside me, the marchioness said, “If you ask me, Xiaoya will be marrying an official anyway. A civil official is better than a military man.”

“Don’t take after your aunt here and marry some uncouth fellow who spends all day brandishing swords and spears. At his age, mine still has to go to war. Who knows how long he’ll live…”

“I’ve watched Qi Zhao grow up. His character and looks are beyond reproach. As for his prospects, he passed the highest imperial examinations at sixteen, and His Majesty thinks very highly of him. You can put your mind at ease, Sister-in-law.”

She gave me an expectant look.

I nodded. “I think he’s very good.”

Looking over again, I found Qi Zhao watching me too, a faint smile tugging at his mouth.

I smiled back and inclined my head.

We both knew that by this point the marriage was practically settled.

When we returned from the evening banquet, it was dusk. The sun had sunk, leaving only a thin strip of daylight.

Chuntao helped me out of my cumbersome finery and dismantled the heavy ornaments in my hair. Her little mouth never stopped as she reported everything happening in the city. “Nanny Liu from the Wumu residence told me the chancellor’s daughter eloped with her family’s groom. Remember him? You said he didn’t look like a servant, that he had something of a master’s air. Bet you didn’t think he’d turn out to be an abductor!”

“This morning I noticed Leyun, that lovely tofu seller in the west of the city, was gone. I asked the old man who fries dough sticks next door. Apparently she caught some strange illness and turned into a wrinkled, white-haired old woman overnight. She can’t even get out of bed. They say she hasn’t much time left…”

…

In the middle of the night, I quietly climbed out of bed.

I found my stealth clothes and changed into them, covered Chuntao—who was snoring loud enough to shake the sky—with a blanket, and climbed out through the window.

I was going to steal medicine.

The Wei clan of Tiandu was Dayin’s most renowned family of physicians. They were said to possess a medicinal treasure passed down through the generations, capable of bringing back the dead and restoring flesh to bare bone.

Its ingredients were extraordinarily rare. Even the Wei family had only one pill.

It was kept in their Lingji Pavilion in case the imperial family ever needed it.

The night was thick as ink. I slipped into the Wei residence, evaded trap after trap, and finally reached the room where the medicine was stored.

A red sandalwood box sat quietly before me.

But when I opened it, it was empty.

As I stared in surprise, I heard a faint noise overhead. I instinctively looked up—and met a hideous spirit’s face, blue-green and fanged.

He was hanging upside down from a beam, his body wrapped in black, bony wings, with only a furry head showing.

His features looked familiar. Wasn’t this the groom who’d run off with the chancellor’s daughter?

He was a bat spirit!

“What kind of bat gets that huge?” I blurted in disgust.

He looked offended. “Never seen anything, have you? I’m a fruit bat, damn it.”

He made to fly. I sprang up, caught his ankle, dragged him right off the beam, and slammed him to the floor.

Held fast and unable to move, he struggled without making a sound, afraid of alerting the guards. Through gritted teeth, I whispered each word: “Give. Me. The. Medicine.”

His venomous glare told me he wouldn’t. Two slaps made him behave, and I freed one hand to search him myself.

In that moment of distraction, the bat spirit spat a dark green cloud of foul vapor into my face.

I couldn’t dodge in time. Dizziness hit me instantly.

A moment later it worsened, and the whole world spun.

The bat spirit flipped me over, opened the window, and flew away.