Five Years After My Death, the Mad Emperor Still Summons My Spirit

If Ming Lingyi were here, she would be astonished to find that after five years, the furnishings in Kunning Palace remained completely unchanged, just as they were when she had left.

In the embroidery room of the side hall, an unfinished baby’s bib, embroidered with a design of fish playing among lotus leaves, still sat on its frame. It must have been for their unborn child.

It was a pity that it was only half-done, and in the five years since, no one had ever come to complete the other half.

Even if it were finished now, the child would have no use for it.

After entering Kunning Palace, Li Yun went straight to what had once been Ming Lingyi’s living quarters.

No candles or oil lamps were lit in the room. Instead, the walls were embedded with countless Luminous Pearls, illuminating the interior in minute detail.

But what drew the eye most was not the chamber of magnificent and costly Luminous Pearls, but the Kunshan Cold Jade and the young woman lying upon it.

Kunshan Cold Jade was notoriously difficult to obtain. Legend said it could only be found in the icy caverns deep within the Kunlun Mountain Range.

Most who entered these caverns froze to death long before they could find the Cold Jade.

Years ago, Li Yun had dispatched men in search of the Kunshan Cold Jade, losing many in the process. In the end, he had led an expedition himself. He was frozen until his skin turned a ghastly blue-white, the blood in his chest nearly solidifying. He had all but stopped breathing when his personal guards carried him out. Only after being treated by the Imperial Physicians waiting at the entrance did he draw another breath, pulled back from death’s door.

Kunshan Cold Jade is found in the most frigid of lands, yet it is not cold to the touch. When one lays a hand on it, it feels only smooth and pleasant.

If one could obtain even a small piece and place it in a corpse’s mouth, then with the help of a formation array and a yin-aspected burial site, the body could be preserved from decay for years.

If one could find an entire slab of Kunshan Cold Jade, a body could be preserved even outside of a tomb.

Legend even spoke of how an entire Kunshan Cold Jade Bed could keep three of the deceased’s Seven Souls and Six Spirits within the body. If, by some twist of fate, the remaining four souls and five spirits could be summoned back from the Netherworld, the dead could be resurrected.

Li Yun gazed at the woman lying on the Cold Jade. The slab was just large enough for one person and had been placed upon what was once Ming Lingyi’s phoenix bed. He removed his shoes and socks and lay down, fully clothed, beside the corpse.

"Yuan Niang, the day after tomorrow is Huazhao’s birthday." Li Yun took the hand of the person beside him, whose chest showed no sign of rising or falling, and held it in his own. He murmured softly, as if they were having a casual chat.

"It’s been five years since you’ve seen him, hasn’t it? Would you like to see him this New Year’s Eve?"

As he said this, Li Yun seemed to lose control, letting out a series of low coughs.

For the past few days, he had not heated the floors nor used a charcoal brazier. He had eaten only vegetarian food, and on top of the daily bloodletting, even a body of iron would break. But Li Yun seemed to have grown accustomed to it all.

The old Taoist Fu Yunzi once said that to perform a Summoning Soul ritual, one must use the blood of a close relative to burn the Soul Reviving Incense.

The Soul Reviving Incense was not lit with an open flame, but with blood. Its fragrant mist did not scatter, but could instead pass between the realms of the living and the dead. Carrying the unique scent of the burner’s blood, it would seek out the desired person in the Netherworld and bring their soul back, piece by piece.

Five years ago, Li Yun had captured the old Taoist Fu Yunzi of Qingcheng Mountain and forcibly detained him in the palace to refine the Soul Reviving Incense.

Within Kunning Palace, the scent of the Soul Reviving Incense lingered nearly year-round, nourished daily by his blood.

Li Yun closed his eyes. ’One day,’ he thought, ’I will bring back all of Ming Lingyi’s Seven Souls and Six Spirits.’

Then, he would once again see the woman beside him open her eyes.

It had been so long since they had truly spoken.

Ming Lingyi had no idea that her body from her past life had never even made it to the Imperial Mausoleum. Even if she had known, she probably wouldn’t have cared much anymore.

When Ming Lingyi woke up the next morning, she was greeted by the rich aroma of lamb broth wafting from the courtyard.

The scent of meat was enough to leave her feeling refreshed and invigorated. It gave her a reason to live!

’Could you even call it living if you didn’t eat meat? That’s just being a breathing corpse!’

Ming Lingyi decided to make hand-pulled lamb noodles for breakfast!

The lamb broth in the iron pot on the stove was bubbling softly, shimmering with golden droplets of fat.

Ming Lingyi grabbed a long-handled iron ladle and stirred the heart of the broth. The milky-white base immediately released clouds of fragrance—the essence of lamb leg bones and spine, simmered for a full six hours. The fat from the marrow had been rendered out by chopped ginger, while Sichuan peppercorns had stripped away any gaminess, creating the perfect stock after a long night of cooking.

Skin-on lamb, marbled with fat, trembled in a slotted spoon before sliding into the broth. After a couple of tumbles in the roiling liquid, it turned an inviting light brown.

The milky-white broth looked like fresh milk, only even richer and thicker.

The dough on the cutting board had, of course, been kneaded by Xiao Chun and had been left to rest until it was perfectly pliable.

Ming Lingyi held the ends of the dough, flicking her wrists gently. She let the dough’s own weight stretch it downward to about an arm’s length. Then, she quickly grabbed the middle, shaking it out with one hand and using the elasticity of the well-rested gluten to stretch it again. After repeating this several times, long, thin noodles appeared in her hands.

When the pulled noodles were dropped into the pot, they maintained a slight curve even in the boiling water.

Timing it perfectly, Ming Lingyi flicked and twisted her bamboo chopsticks. The noodles leaped from the water’s surface like live fish, splashing her face with steam that carried the fragrance of wheat.

Half a bowl of the scalding, milky-white lamb broth had already been ladled into a bowl. The incredibly resilient noodles soaked up the soup without losing their structure. When lifted with the tip of a chopstick, their quivering elasticity was plain to see.

Xiao Chun had already taken her seat, waiting eagerly for the meal.

’It’s just too fragrant,’ she thought, taking back everything she had said the previous night.

’The Emperor’s orders can be what they may. Compared to cold food, a bowl of hand-pulled lamb noodles like this is enough to make my soul tremble.’

The first taste was a sip of the broth. It was hot enough to numb the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t bear to stop. The savory flavor shot from the root of her tongue straight to her temples. Next, a bite of lamb: the fatty parts trembled and melted like nectar, while the lean meat shredded into fine, tender strands that weren’t the least bit dry. The noodles made a WHOOSH as they were slurped, their chewy texture making her chew faster. The aroma of wheat mingled with the rich lamb broth, exploding between her teeth. In the end, she used her chopsticks to chase down and scrape up the very last noodle at the bottom of the bowl.

After several loud SLURPS, Xiao Chun, holding a bowl bigger than her face, had eaten every last bit.

There were still extra noodles on the board, so Xiao Chun cooked herself another large bowl.

By the time Xiao Chun had eaten until her belly was full, Ming Lingyi, sitting across from her, had just finished her own small half-bowl of noodles.

Xiao Chun cleared the table and went to the back kitchen to wash the dishes.

Ming Lingyi went to the backyard and picked some more plum blossoms.

The last batch of plum blossom jam was enough to make two more batches of plum blossom cakes. She calculated the time; it would be just enough to sell before New Year’s Day.

She would candy some more petals now. After the new year began, the plum blossoms would be close to withering, and she could still make a few more batches of plum blossom cakes to sell to the neighbors.

In a single morning, Ming Lingyi finished a jar of plum blossom jam and also placed the dough for the plum blossom cakes, which she planned to sell at the Imperial College that afternoon, into the small oven.

This time, Ming Lingyi made a large batch. She counted them—about a hundred in total.

After finishing her work, Ming Lingyi moved a bamboo chair under the long corridor, placed a fire-starter by her feet, and began embroidering a small pouch.

When Xiao Chun finished her chores, she came over. She had seen her lady embroidering the pouch the night before, and now, looking closely, she saw it was decorated with a little chubby baby flying a kite.

"My lady, this pouch..." Xiao Chun scratched her head. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but she felt the pouch didn’t suit her lady at all. Her lady wasn’t even married yet, so what was the meaning of embroidering a chubby baby on a pouch to wear at her waist? "Didn’t you used to prefer flowers and plants, my lady? Why are you embroidering a chubby little boy?"

Ming Lingyi chuckled. "This isn’t for me."