Chapter Forty: Watching from the Shadows

The bright moon hung in the sky, its reflection shimmering upon the water. Clear springs flowed over stones, and brocade-colored fish darted through the currents.

As the annual martial tournament approached, the night scene in Southern Prince City grew ever more lively, yet the Prince’s manor standing at the city’s heart remained quiet. The servants within had all retired for the evening; only the guards patrolled the winding corridors, lanterns in hand, their yawns and murmurs occasionally breaking the silence.

Dim yellow light seeped through the windows, casting a grid of illumination across the corridor floor. Amidst the light, a graceful shadow appeared, moving with the glow—its owner seemingly in the act of disrobing.

Xiao Mei slipped off her outer garments, leaving herself clad only in a pure white thin robe, her long, lustrous black hair cascading down her back like a waterfall. The delicate fabric hugged her slender figure, accentuating her graceful lines.

“Mmm—” She stretched deeply, a soft moan escaping her lips as she settled before a polished bronze mirror. In the mirror, her features carried a hint of spirited resolve; she smiled lightly, murmuring, “No matter how I look, I am always so beautiful…”

With that, she picked up a wooden comb and began to carefully groom her hair, her attentive manner showing how much she cherished it. The room was unusually quiet; her comb moved slowly through her locks as she hummed a gentle tune, seemingly unhurried.

The candle on the table flickered softly, threatening to extinguish at any moment, its light bathing Xiao Mei in a golden glow. As she combed, a sudden chill swept through her body, making her shiver as if a cold wind had passed—her skin prickled, but she paid it no mind.

Winter was drawing near, and Southern Prince City, nestled at the foot of the southernmost Zhongnan Mountain, always received cold air from the far south, descending early each year. Soon, snow would fall.

Thinking of this, she gazed into the bronze mirror.

“What is this…” She froze, for behind her reflected image, a shadow hovered in the mirror. Sensing her gaze, the shadow’s mouth curled into a silent smile. Stunned, she rubbed her eyes.

Looking again, only her own face was reflected—nothing else.

“Was it just my imagination?” she wondered, dismissing the thought as fatigue from several restless nights. With that, she quickened her pace, eager to finish and get to bed, for the night had grown much colder.

In the midst of combing, she paused and looked over her shoulder; everything was as it should be, the bright moon visible through the window. Puzzled, she returned to her mirror and continued with her hair.

Yet again, she glanced behind her—still nothing. Suspicion clouded her features as she resumed grooming.

Suddenly, she whipped her head around, as if hoping to catch something elusive, but the disappointment in her eyes revealed she found nothing. So, Xiao Mei continued combing, occasionally glancing back, as though searching for something, unable to shake the feeling that someone was watching her—quietly, intently, and unwaveringly.

The uncanny sensation unsettled her, making her skin crawl. This time, she stared hard into the bronze mirror.

She saw an eyeball peering through the crack of her door, fixed on her, and it seemed to mock her.

In a blink, she sprang to the door, flung it open, and with a swift motion, grabbed the intruder by the throat, pinning him against the wall.

“Who are you?” she demanded coldly. “Why were you spying on me from behind the door?”

The person wore the livery of a servant from the Prince’s manor. Gasping and coughing under Xiao Mei’s grip, his face turned crimson.

She loosened her hold slightly. “Speak!”

With a bitter expression, he pleaded, “Miss Xiao, I’m just a patrolling guard. I was passing by and didn’t even have a chance to react before you grabbed me. I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Nonsense!” she retorted. “I saw you peeking through the door in the mirror. Do you think you can fool me? If you don’t confess, I’ll hand you over to Uncle Liu for punishment—he’ll gouge out your eyes!”

The servant looked as if he might cry. “Miss Xiao, you must have misunderstood me. I was only passing by; I would never dare spy on you. For us servants, offending our betters is a grave crime—we wouldn’t dare!”

As he spoke, droplets fell from his trousers—he had wet himself in terror.

Xiao Mei frowned, seeing the man so frightened, his spirit shattered and bladder failed. He hardly seemed to be lying.

So who could it be? Could a thief have snuck into the manor? But the Prince’s manor was no ordinary place; what thief would have such nerve or skill to infiltrate its defenses? The guards weren’t mere decoration.

Was it truly just her eyes deceiving her?

Unable to make sense of it, she released the terrified servant, returned to her chamber, locked the door, and felt somewhat reassured. Abandoning her hair, she lay in bed, resting her head on her hands, staring at the ceiling, pondering who might have been watching her from behind the door.

Reflecting carefully, she was certain it wasn’t the servant—he simply lacked the courage.

Neither was it likely to be a thief; not only would it take extraordinary boldness, but breaching the manor’s defenses was no simple matter—the guards were formidable.

“Who could it be…” Xiao Mei muttered, unable to fathom it. Even if her eyes had played tricks, the sensation of being watched was unmistakable—a powerful feeling, as if someone truly stood behind her, staring intently.

Her heart skipped as she recalled the shadow in the mirror, its mouth twisted in a smile.

What was that shadow?

If she hadn’t been mistaken, the shadow was real, and so was the eye she saw in the crack of the door.

But what connection could there be between a shadow and an eyeball? Could the shadow have transformed into a human eye? That seemed far too real; she had never heard of such a bizarre occurrence.

Unable to unravel the mystery, she decided not to dwell on it, closed her eyes, and tried to sleep. Yet, as soon as she did, the sensation of unseen eyes watching her in the darkness grew stronger.

It was deeply unsettling.

No matter how she tried to clear her mind and calm her spirit, the feeling persisted—and intensified.

Suddenly, she felt as if someone was looming over her bed, grinning with a strange, twisted smile. She opened her eyes with a start, but found the room empty.

She scanned the space; all was normal.

She closed her eyes again.

Then, abruptly, she opened them.

Closed them.

Opened them again.

She looked around, then shut her eyes once more, but soon she sprang up, turning to peer beneath her bed.

Nothing but emptiness.

Slowly, she sat upright, arms crossed and leaning against the wall, her brows nearly knit into a frown.

After a long silence, she muttered,

“Damn it, am I seeing ghosts?”

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