The Spirit Maiden's Soul Transmigrates into Emperor Ling

As the stench of rotting mud crept into her nostrils, Ling Gu’s fingertips were still tightly wound around the pair of red hair ties. The faded silk chafed her fingers raw, but she no longer had the strength to curl them.

Blood streamed from her seven orifices, blurring her vision until all she could see was a thick, clinging red. She watched her blood seep into the cracks between the green bricks, as vivid and messy as the rouge she used to sneak from her mother’s box as a child.

“W-why…” It felt as if a red-hot iron rod were lodged in her throat; every word came with a spray of blood.

Blurry figures swayed before her, dressed in fine silks and brocade. They were the very people she had once risked her life to protect with her spirit-medium arts. Their faces were hidden in shadow, but their voices were icy: “Ling Gu can communicate with the dead and glimpse the secrets of heaven. Leaving her alive will always be a danger.”

So that was it. She could see ghosts wailing and hear mountains and rivers whisper, yet she had never foreseen that the people she trusted most would kill her.

In the final second before her consciousness sank into darkness, she clenched the pair of red hair ties. When she had first joined the Spirit Medium Sect, her master had tied them in her hair, saying they would contain her overly powerful spiritual energy and keep her safe.

Safe… What a cruel joke.

On the third night after her burial, the moonlight was as cool as water.