Chapter Thirty-Eight: Song of the Western Isles

After several more rounds of heavy drinking, Yu Erlang’s face grew redder with each cup. Staggering slightly, he raised his glass and shuffled over to Zhou Hongxian with a teasing grin. “My dear, it was fate that brought us together. Come, let’s share another drink!”

Zhou Hongxian maintained her gentle smile, saying nothing superfluous. She picked up her cup and once again put on a convincing act, draining it in one bold gulp.

Yu Erlang clapped his hands and laughed heartily. “Splendid, my dear! This is exactly how we demons ought to behave. You are far superior to those ordinary mortal women—I much prefer your kind!” As he spoke so brazenly, his gaze shamelessly dropped to Zhou Hongxian’s chest, lingering there before sliding slowly up to her face. Suddenly, as if possessed by some wild impulse, he reached out a hand toward her. “Ah, my dear, your lips are still wet—let me wipe them dry for you, won’t you?”

Though Zhou Hongxian had been on her guard, she hadn’t expected Yu Erlang to be quite so forward. Startled, she quickly shifted aside, evading his unwelcome touch.

Old Ghost Songpo, watching from the side, burst out laughing. “Second Brother, how can you be so reckless?”

The upper chamber was filled with maids who, witnessing this scene, tittered among themselves. They were all Old Ghost Songpo’s ghostly slaves—spirits of women he had forcibly taken by virtue of his cultivation. Most had once been ladies of good families, but under his corrupting influence, they had lost their original natures and now drifted about in a haze, their manner seductive and wanton—true spirits of beauty and desire.

Surrounded by these fawning maids, Old Ghost Songpo grew even more licentious, and Yu Erlang was not to be outdone. As a rat demon, he and Old Ghost Songpo were kindred spirits; though his cultivation was somewhat inferior, it was not by much. The main reason he willingly played the subordinate was precisely for these alluring ghostly slaves.

Yu Erlang spoke bluntly, “Big Brother, if Fox Lady keeps refusing me like this, even the wine loses its flavor! Didn’t you acquire a new beauty today? Why not bring her out to entertain us all?”

Old Ghost Songpo chuckled. “That won’t do, Second Brother. The new girl’s soul isn’t whole yet, and she hasn’t been properly trained—she’s not fit for company. If you want to see her, you’ll have to wait a few more days.”

Zhou Hongxian’s thoughts surged at this remark.

“Then let Qian Niang come out and perform for us, shall we?”

Old Ghost Songpo nodded slightly and whispered a few words to one of the maids in his arms. The maid got up and left, returning after a while with a voluptuous beauty trailing behind.

At first glance, Zhou Hongxian saw a woman of about twenty, her complexion as pale as the other maids, yet far surpassing them in beauty. Her hair was as black as ink, with a prominent widow’s peak, her face lightly dusted with rouge, lips a soft red—not garish, but pure, giving her an air of refined innocence.

The beauty approached Old Ghost Songpo and bowed deeply. “What do you require of me, sir?”

Old Ghost Songpo’s face lit up with delight. “Qian Niang, Second Brother was just asking after you. Would you perform for us?”

“Yes, sir.” Qian Niang lowered her head gracefully.

Zhou Hongxian noticed that Old Ghost Songpo treated this Qian Niang with a certain tenderness, speaking to her in gentle tones. And though Qian Niang was obedient, there was not a trace of coquettishness on her face—a detail that surprised Zhou Hongxian.

A maid beside them began to play the zither. As the music rose, Qian Niang glided into the rhythm and danced. Her movements were elegant, her flowing sleeves and gauzy robes barely concealing her graceful figure, her snow-white skin glimpsed in flashes—enough to tempt any soul.

Zhou Hongxian had never seen such a classically alluring dance; she found herself gradually entranced. Yet, sharp-eyed as ever, she soon noticed a deep, unspoken sorrow in Qian Niang’s eyes, hidden beneath the beauty of her movements.

Compared to the other maids’ overt seduction, Qian Niang’s melancholy left Zhou Hongxian puzzled. She had no time to ponder further, for Qian Niang, mid-dance, began to sing:

“Remembering plucking plums beneath the western isles,
Sending their fragrance across the northern river.
A crimson robe upon slender form,
Locks dark as fledgling crows.
Where lies the western isles?
Where two paddles cross by the bridge.
At dusk, the shrike flies home,
Wind stirs the black laurel tree.
Below the tree is the gateway,
Within the gate, jade ornaments gleam.
I open the gate—my love has not come.
I leave to gather red lotuses.
Lotus blooms taller than I in southern ponds in autumn,
I lower my head, playing with the seeds,
Clear as water, I cradle them in my sleeve,
Their hearts flushed deep red.
Longing for my love who does not arrive,
I gaze upward at the wild geese in flight.
Wild geese fill the western isles,
I seek my love in the distant tower.
From its lofty height I cannot see him,
All day I lean upon the balcony.
Twelve curves the balustrade,
Where my hand, pale as jade, hangs low.
Rolling up the curtain, the sky seems higher,
Green waves shimmer in the empty sea.
Dreams drift upon the endless sea,
If you are troubled, I too am troubled.
May the southern wind know my longing,
And carry my dreams to the western isles.”

The song and dance ended at the perfect moment, and both Old Ghost Songpo and Yu Erlang applauded enthusiastically; Zhou Hongxian also offered her applause without reservation.

Old Ghost Songpo then asked with a smile, “Qian Niang, what song did you just sing?”

“Sir, it is the Song of the Western Isles.”

“I thought so! The words ‘western isles’ were repeated often enough—how could I not know? But I also heard mention of a ‘tower of pleasure,’ and I’m curious what the song is truly about.”

Qian Niang was silent. Old Ghost Songpo chuckled and turned to Yu Erlang. “Second Brother, do you know what this song is about?”

Yu Erlang grinned, “Big Brother, I heard something about the sky and the sea—must be a scenic description!”

“So that’s it? How dull, how dull indeed!”

Zhou Hongxian nearly burst out laughing at their conversation. Though unfamiliar with the song’s title, she found the lyrics plain enough; a careful ear revealed the yearning of a woman for her beloved. These demon ghosts, playing at sophistication, couldn’t even grasp the meaning and simply made things up—truly comical.

But as this thought crossed her mind, inspiration suddenly struck Zhou Hongxian. She gazed intently at Qian Niang, feeling as though she had caught a fleeting truth.

After her performance, Qian Niang was kept by Old Ghost Songpo’s side, nestled in his arms and pouring his wine. She remained utterly obedient, though a flicker of helplessness and sorrow would occasionally surface in her eyes—details Zhou Hongxian, ever watchful, did not miss.

Yu Erlang, sitting nearby, burned with envy. He wanted a woman in his arms, but none of the maids appealed to him anymore—only Zhou Hongxian caught his eye. At first, out of camaraderie with another demon, he was polite, but after repeated refusals, his patience wore thin. Zhou Hongxian, sensing her situation becoming precarious and weary of fending him off, resorted to her trump card—escaping under the pretext of needing the restroom.

She delicately explained her urgent need, and both Old Ghost Songpo and Yu Erlang smiled knowingly, their grins tinged with lechery. Zhou Hongxian, however, pointed to Qian Niang and said, “I’m not familiar with the residence—could Sister Qian Niang accompany me? I loved her performance just now and would love to ask her for some advice!”

Old Ghost Songpo nodded to Qian Niang. “Since Fox Lady requests it, go with her.”

“Yes, sir.” Qian Niang rose obediently and accompanied Zhou Hongxian out of the chamber.

No sooner had they disappeared than Yu Erlang hurried to Old Ghost Songpo’s side. “Big Brother, you must help me!”

Old Ghost Songpo toyed with his wine cup, smiling. “What’s wrong, Second Brother? Did you hit a wall with the Fox Lady?”

“Big Brother, I always thought all foxes were wanton, but this little fox is so fussy she won’t even let me touch her! But I want her so badly—you have to help your little brother get what he wants!”

Old Ghost Songpo smiled faintly and drew a small vial from his sleeve. “Here, take this.”

Yu Erlang blinked. “What is it?”

“This is corpse oil of my own making. Put a drop in the Fox Lady’s cup—no matter if she’s human, demon, or ghost, if her cultivation is lacking, she’ll be poisoned with desire. Then, with just a touch, she’ll be unable to resist you.”

Yu Erlang’s eyes gleamed with excitement.

Outside the chamber, Zhou Hongxian followed closely behind Qian Niang. The two walked in silence for a long while before stopping, and Qian Niang said, “Fox Lady, this is the place. I’ll wait for you outside.”

Zhou Hongxian saw Qian Niang glance back at her, but instead of hurrying, she said leisurely, “Qian Niang, your dance today was truly delightful.”

“You flatter me,” Qian Niang replied coolly.

“But I liked your song even more—it was full of twists and turns, so beautifully expressing the pain of longing for one’s beloved.”

At these words, Qian Niang’s face faltered slightly.

Seeing this, Zhou Hongxian felt even more certain of her suspicions. She couldn’t help but put on a sly smile, her tone mocking. “You’re Old Ghost’s slave, but you still pine for another man? Aren’t you putting horns on his head?”

Qian Niang wasn’t familiar with the phrase “putting horns on his head,” but she caught Zhou Hongxian’s meaning. She bit her lip, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

Moved by her pitiful appearance, Zhou Hongxian found herself unable to utter the biting words she had rehearsed so many times.

Just when she was about to lose her chance, Qian Niang suddenly spoke. “Fox Lady, I know foxes are clever—there must be some purpose behind your questions. Tell me, what do you want from me?”

“Uh—I—I want to ask a favor.”

“What favor?”

Zhou Hongxian took a deep breath to steady her nerves and explained her purpose in detail.

As Qian Niang listened, surprise gradually dawned in her eyes. “You say you’re looking for someone named Cui Yu, and you’re her friend?”

“That’s right! I know Old Ghost favors you a bit—if you help me use that to rescue my friend, I will never trouble you again!”

An odd little smile appeared on Qian Niang’s lips. She nodded. “I know where Cui Yu is. If you want to save her, follow me.”

Watching Qian Niang’s retreating figure, Zhou Hongxian’s apprehension only grew. She muttered under her breath, “How could this go so smoothly? It feels almost unreal…”