The hall was unusually quiet.
Zhu Changluo’s face was half-lit by the incense, half-shadowed as he looked at Ji Xiang.
To his surprise, Ji Xiang showed no abnormality, responding directly:
“Yes.”
This answer seemed to greatly surprise Zhu Changluo.
Ji Xiang continued to speak:
“However, I wonder what kind of resurrection the First Prince is referring to?”
“In my Daoist sect, there are techniques to reanimate the dead from bone, to refine the spirit with the Moon, to disentangle spirit and form, to return life by holding Yang, and the Five Unions of the Three Yangs. Different methods of resurrection correspond to different states of death.”
As Ji Xiang spoke, a hint of confusion and curiosity flickered in Zhu Changluo’s eyes. He paused for a moment, then asked with great interest:
“You… can you really bring the dead back to life so casually?”
A eunuch by Zhu Changluo’s side leaned in and whispered:
“The dead are guided by the gods of the Underworld. This Taoist priest is likely speaking nonsense, Your Highness should not believe him.”
“Your Highness is here to pray for Consort Gong, you should not dally.”
The First Prince was not favored by Emperor Wanli. Having lived fifteen years in constant fear, he dared not make any mistakes in his life. If he were to become infatuated with alchemy and resurrection spells now, he would undoubtedly be held accountable. The consequences of such accountability at this time were self-evident. Emperor Wanli was already looking for an excuse to cast aside his eldest son.
Furthermore, under Emperor Wanli’s control, Zhu Changluo did not even have serving palace maids. The eunuchs around him were either spies or his true attendants, mostly young and insignificant.
“Just asking, no need to rush.”
However, Zhu Changluo seemed intrigued. He ignored the earnest look in the eunuch’s eyes and turned to Ji Xiang, nodding:
“Speaking of which, you mentioned five resurrection techniques. Outside this capital, there is the Dongyue Temple, where all the lords of the Underworld obey the command of our Great Ming Dynasty. If the dead are not guided by the Underworld… do you cultivators dare to snatch the dead from the hands of the Underworld?”
His tone was peculiar, carrying a hint of threat beyond mere curiosity.
Ji Xiang was now completely certain that the fire curse that had emerged from the incense last night was undoubtedly linked to this First Prince. He suspected he was the “master” they were referring to.
His visit this morning to offer prayers for his mother, Consort Wang Gong, was merely an excuse to see if he was dead.
As Ji Xiang pondered, he responded to Zhu Changluo:
“Does Your Highness know what credentials the Underworld requires for soul-snatching?”
Zhu Changluo’s gaze flickered, but he still shook his head and smiled:
“I only began my studies outside my chambers two years ago, and my studies have been intermittent… not very good…”
Zhu Changluo’s voice changed at this point, and the gloom in his brows deepened.
The reason his studies were intermittent was due to the obstruction of Emperor Wanli and Noble Consort Zheng.
Zhu Changluo’s expression soured.
Ji Xiang did not play coy, holding up three fingers:
“In the Underworld, there are three冥簿, known to the world as the Books of Life and Death, called the Yellow Book, the Taishan Book, and the Inner Record Book.”
“The Yellow Book governs life, the Taishan Book governs death, and the Inner Record Book governs destiny. If a person is destined to die, all three books must have their names blackened before the Underworld can claim them, and this person is beyond saving.”
“If a name in the Yellow Book is only half-blackened, even if the names in the other two books are fully black, this person still has a chance to live, a possibility for change.”
Zhu Changluo said curiously, “Is there such a saying? I have seen the Underworld capture ghosts before; they were locked up and taken away. I have never seen these three Books of Life and Death.”
“And according to you, if the names in the latter two books are blackened, but the name in the Yellow Book is not, then what is the use of those latter two books?”
Ji Xiang replied, “The reason for three books is that when a person is alive, their life is truly in their own hands. Whether they die of old age or an untimely death is determined by the actions of the living.”
“The Taishan Book only records the lifespan allotted to you in this life, which is predetermined by heaven; the destiny recorded in the Inner Record Book is the innate destiny given to you by heaven, which is also fixed.”
“Only the Yellow Book can be altered by one’s own choices.”
“Thus, some people die untimely deaths, yet their allotted lifespan has not ended; some cultivate the Dao and become earth immortals residing in the world, their lifespans increase, and their destiny also increases.”
“The Books of Life and Death have limited vision. Practitioners of the Underworld cannot predict the changes in the Yellow Book. Therefore, the many resurrection techniques of my Daoist sect do not conflict with the path of the Underworld. If the name in the Yellow Book is not blackened, how can one be called dead?”
Zhu Changluo showed a look of sudden realization and then stared at Ji Xiang:
“So, the Underworld’s capture of people relies on this Yellow Book, and the changes in the Yellow Book depend on one’s own choices.”
“Then it would be better for people to pass judgment.”
“After all, officials can simply declare you guilty, and you are guilty. If they want you dead, you must die, leaving no room for choice. What need is there for this Yellow Book?”
His words were strange, yet true. However, the First Prince said this with a smile, causing Ji Xiang to inwardly lament that the common people in this feudal society were truly not considered citizens in the eyes of the powerful.
Zhu Changluo nodded, “Daoist priest, you must be a great cultivator.”
Ji Xiang shook his head, “This humble one is young and cannot claim to be a cultivator. I am only fifteen this year.”
Zhu Changluo’s eyes flickered, and he pondered for a moment, looking again at the three incense sticks, then staring at the ground.
At this moment, Ji Xiang could feel that the yellow aura on Zhu Changluo’s body was subtly restless.
The incense was restless, but the person’s aura was stable, with no abnormalities.
This indicated that the cluster of incense and aura on him did not belong to him.
Ji Xiang also glanced at Zhu Changluo. Within his inner vision, the blank divine tablet did not react, indicating that the other party was indeed a person, not a god or a monster, nor was he receiving any blessings.
Ji Xiang was still pondering. He had no enmity with Zhu Changluo and did not know him. This First Prince had first sent people to kill him, and seeing him alive and well, he was now repeatedly asking about life and death. Was he truly destined to “die” in some “plan” of his?
Really, don’t underestimate the sweepers!
Just then, a hint of impatience appeared on Zhu Changluo’s face. However, this impatience was not directed at Ji Xiang but at the yellow aura of incense he carried. He slightly turned his head, and the yellow aura of incense coiled on his shoulder immediately quieted down.
Then, he turned back:
“Daoist priest, after death, is there truly reincarnation?”
Ji Xiang could naturally discern the meaning behind the prince’s words. He saw Zhu Changluo narrow his eyes and put one hand behind his back. An indescribable oppressive aura emanated from this young man.
However, these methods were useless against Ji Xiang. Moreover, Ji Xiang attempted to end the conversation, as Zhu Changluo’s persistent questions about life and death undoubtedly had a reason.
Thus, meeting Zhu Changluo’s gaze, he replied:
“Your Highness… If one does not know life, how can one know death?”