From CEO to Concubine-Chapter 202: Vol 4: Three

There was a river in front of him.

It was nighttime—or at least he thought it was. He couldn’t tell; when he looked up, all he saw was infinite darkness, a yawning chasm that both expanded into the unimaginable distance and yet hovered on the cusp of his head like it was threatening to collapse upon him at any moment.

The ground was the same shade of black too but not in the same unending gradient as the sky above. Instead, shadowy blades of grass rustled in a phantom wind and growing right on the river bank were lush clusters of spidery flowers (1), their crimson petals so bright they made his eyes burn.

He couldn’t remember what they were called.

Red spider lilies. Bloom for a thousand years, wilt for a thousand years. The flowers and leaves are destined to never meet. (2)

He couldn’t remember what he was called. Why was he here and where was this?

"Poor child, you’ve come by so many times, it’s no wonder you’re a mess."

He whirled around. Who’d spoken? There was nothing behind him by a void and yet he felt for a fleeting instant an indescribable longing to plunge back into the depths of the unknown. He’d made a mistake and left something behind; he knew that it was immeasurably priceless even if he couldn’t recall what it was anymore—what was it? How could be forget?

"Old hag, what have you done? It isn’t his time yet, have you given him soup?! Do you know how much paperwork we’ll have to file to rectify a mistake like that?"

"Why, you miserable brat! This old lady has been working in this job for millennia upon millennia, do you think I’ll make such a rookie mistake like that?! The poor child is just disorientated, and rightly so! Thanks to your department’s repeated collection of his souls, he’s having a difficult time adjusting to the Ming Estate (3)’s environment now!"

"...Granny Meng, please forgive Little Brother Fan’s rudeness, we just came off an eighteen-hour shift, and he’s not in the best of moods now. Is this...the entity with the extreme yin bazi?"

The voices became more and more distinctive. When he turned around, the river, which had originally just been a sedate current of rippling onyx, was now alight with small lanterns afloat on paper boats. If he squinted, he could see that the flames within them were not flames at all, but flickering humanoid figures. Some were seated daintily inside, others lay down still and unmoving. There were even some that beat tiny fists against the side of their confinement, as though unwilling to be trapped inside and carried away by the steady current towards an unknown destination.

He didn’t know where they were going. But perhaps it was to the long bridge that had materialised in front of him.

By the side of the bridge, where there had only been the uncomfortable flowers before, there was now a beautiful ancient teahouse with jade roof tiles and lanterns hanging off the vermilion bannisters of its wide balconies. Much like the lanterns in the water, these also had an eerie glow that he couldn’t place.

He looked between the bridge and the courtyard of the teahouse, uncertain as to where he should go next.

"Come in, poor child, it’s been a long day for you, come in and rest your feet before you continue."

This was the voice of the first speaker, the one the others referred to as ’old hag’ and ’Granny Meng’. Her tone was warm and encouraging and he found himself wanting to obey her instructions even though he couldn’t explain just why it was so compelling. This uncertainty brought along with it a growing sense of trepidation and he stood right outside the threshold, unable to decide whether he should step in or not.

"See? He’s terrified of you, old lady. If this isn’t a good reason to reflect on your behaviour, I don’t know what else would be—ow! Big Brother Xie!"

There was a gentle sigh before a pale white hand reached past the doorway to guide him in.

"Little Brother Fan, please, stop scaring our guest. Come in, don’t linger outside, we mean you no harm."

The owner of this hand was a tall, thin man dressed all in white funeral garb. He gave the impression that he was in perpetual mourning, his expression gentle but with a soft sadness that tugged at the heartstrings of whoever looked at him. Much like the scholars who sat in the pavilions in the gardens of the capital, he carried with him a fan that bore a spiky, arrogant cursive that seemed out of sorts with his personality. The words on them read ’You Have Come Too’.

Against a skeletal tree behind him, slouched an even taller young man, attired most strangely in a black leather jacket that seemed very much at odds with the rest of the place. In sharp contrast to Big Brother Xie, Little Brother Fan was broader, tanner, and had a strong preference for a colour scheme that would have made him blend nicely into any goth concert. On his T-shirt, in a glossy black print that made it stand out, was an elegant calligraphic script that flowed more smoothly than the waters that ran just outside the teahouse. The words written on them were, however, a lot less...poetic as they were ’Arresting You Right Now’. 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

This Little Brother Fan had sunglasses on but it did nothing to hide the ferocious scowl on his face as he folded his arms gruffly. "Oh, stop dawdling and hurry on in, we don’t have all day to sort you out." Then, as if too impatient to even wait a second longer, he straightened up and strode over too.

Who were these people? They seemed familiar somehow. He—who was he again?—didn’t know why but he believed he should know them. Or at least, know of them.

The fragrant smell of tea and herbal soups infiltrated his senses as he drew closer. Seated at a square table near the entrance of the teahouse was a little old woman, hunched over a walking stick that looked like it was barely able to keep her propped up. She was wizened in a way that would put centenarians to shame.

"Here, have some bubble tea—that’s what all you youngsters enjoy these days, am I right?"

He looked down blankly at the plastic cup that was kindly handed to him, already conveniently equipped with a paper straw and all. It looked delicious—he couldn’t remember what his name was but for some bizarre reason could remember his favourite flavour...—and he knew without a doubt that it was the exact brew from that one store in the middle of the shopping district in SH City that his siblings always queued up for an hour to get because they’d been told that they weren’t allowed to make their poor elderly driver do it.

Wait, what? Siblings? SH City?

Some things were starting to come back to him.

He looked up at the granny hesitantly, feeling even more alarmed at her megawatt beam.

"Go ahead, it’s safe, I promise. This isn’t one of my usual soups, it’s just something that’ll help keep your souls stuck together this time." The old lady shook her head with a pained expression on her face and reached out to pat his arm sympathetically. "Poor dear, I’ve never met a mortal quite like you. Next time, try to keep yourself together, all right?"

Suffice it to say, he had no idea what she was talking about and it must have shown in his expression because Big Brother Xie started enlightening him.

"We don’t have enough time to go into the nitty-gritty details," he said with an apologetic smile. He reached into his long sweeping sleeves and pulled out a stack of papers and a pen. At some point, a set of dainty gold-rimmed glasses had materialised themselves upon his nose bridge and he pushed them up now and started to give a brief explanation.

"After the Goddess Nu Wa breathed life into the figures that she moulded out of clay, they developed three souls. The heavenly soul, which represents a mortal’s conscience, was bound by the laws of karma and unable to reenter the reincarnation wheel and imprisoned by guards in the heavenly prison until their next opportunity to return to the mortal realm. The mortal soul, which represents the manifestation of a person’s ancestral heritage, is bound to their tomb or grave upon death and remains in the mortal realm, destined to wander the paths they once passed through whilst alive. Finally, the earthly soul, which belongs to the underworld, carries with it a mortal’s karmic burden when it returns to the Ming Estate for judgment by the Lords of Hell. If they pass and are allowed to reincarnate, a destination will be determined based on a mortal’s merit and the three souls are permitted to reunite then before coming here to have their memories wiped (4)."

Little Brother Fan jabbed a thumb unceremoniously towards the old woman who glared at him before turning her head away with a snooty harrumph. "Those memories get wiped clean by this woman’s dark cuisine (5)."

"Hah, no one has ever said this old lady’s soups taste bad!"

"...it’s not like anyone can even remember enough to give you critique? And I’m not arguing about the taste, I’m just saying, not even the boss knows what the fuck you put in there."

Big Brother Xie ignored the ruckus behind him with an ease that gave away just how frequent an occurrence it must be in his life. "Yes, Granny Meng’s soups have the power to remove the memories of the previous lifetime and wipe the slate clean for a fresh start, so to speak."

He listened to all this information with interest. It was like hearing a storyteller describe the myths of gods and demons. But still, he didn’t know how this pertained to him. "Is that why I don’t remember anything?"

"No, I think that’s just a temporary backlash from getting pulled down to the underworld for no good reason...since you’re not dead yet." Big Brother Xie had the decency to look embarrassed. "Little Brother Fan and I are tasked with the job of collecting and escorting souls to the underworld, we’re just one of many pairs of Black and White Impermanences (6). But you’re a bit of a special case, I’m afraid. You see, perhaps due to your bazi containing too much Yin energy, the underworld clung too strongly to your souls when you entered the reincarnation wheel and, well, suffice it to say, they ripped apart at the seams when we tried to send you back to the mortal realm."

"..."

That sounded painful.

"Born on the exact day and hour that the gates of hell opened," Little Brother Fan quipped. "Could you have chosen a more auspicious date of birth?"

He didn’t know what to say to that.

"...I assume steps have been taken to prevent this from happening again?" he asked at last.

"Oh, yes," Big Brother Xie replied eagerly. "As a result of that mistake, the Lords of Hell convened with some of the relevant deities up in Heaven. The number of case conferences they held debating how to reinforce the safety features of the reincarnation wheel was astounding, to say the least. We still have no idea how your soul managed to transverse across realities. It took a while to relocate you and bring you back."

"..." He looked down at himself. He wasn’t sure what he was wearing before showing up here but he was certain it wasn’t meant to be a three-piece suit.

Black and gold flashed in the corner of his mind, along with someone’s gorgeous smile. It made his heart ache fiercely and he found his gaze flitting back to the entrance of the teahouse.

As though sensing his mounting impatience, Little Brother Fan waved a hand impatiently at the contract that Big Brother Xie had set out on the table. "Whatever is in the old hag’s brew is supposed to stop you from going to pieces so literally again. If you stop asking so many questions and just sign this damn paper, you’ll be out of here in no time. They’ve already been waiting for you for ages."

"Wujiu, mind your manners," Big Brother Xie chided. "It’s normal for Young Master Yan here to have concerns, remember your basics from that Contracting with Mortals workshop we just attended not too many centuries ago? A contract formed under coercion is null and void..."

He—Young Master Yan...his name was Yan?—knew that he shouldn’t just sign documents without reading them through thoroughly and checking with his legal team for advice on how to proceed. But this time around, the urge to just be reckless, to jot down his name and flee towards where his heart was calling was too much to resist.

Without another word, he scribbled something down on the sheet of paper before him without even reading its contents and rushed out of the teahouse. He didn’t look back but if he did, he would have seen it fade slowly into a mist that soon evaporated into nothingness once more.

"What in the eighteen hells? He didn’t even bother reading it? How did he make it to CEO?"

"I’m sure he’s a lot more careful when not disorientated. Anyway, we’re not here to harm him, we’re here to help, so it’s all good, isn’t it?"

"Ahahahaha, this old lady is going to tell everyone that I had the honour of glueing together the brightest souls ever born under the Tianfu Star!"

"Hah? What did you even do?! You’re going to poison him again once he finishes living out this life and comes back to drink your stupid soup—"

Yan soon left the voices behind him. The bridge was still there and he had an inkling that it wouldn’t go anywhere until he completed his journey across it. Without further ado, he took a step onto the bony white stone and came face to face with two young men, one standing tall and graceful, the other perched upon the railing and swinging his feet with youthful vibrancy.

They greeted him like old friends when he walked up to them. And they were old friends to him, in many ways, they were more. One had his phoenix eyes, another his idealistic dreams. One shared his ambitious nature, the other his undying love for his family.

The more boyish of the two jumped off his seat and presented him with a deep scholarly bow.

"This lowly one greets and thanks Big Brother Yan for everything that you’ve done for me so far."

Yan reached out and brushed the hair out of the youth’s eyes. "You’ve suffered," he said. "It’s all right now, I’ll take care of you."

The taller of the two laughed. In contrast to the rich beauty of the other, his allure was colder, sharper, more difficult to meet the eye of, but the pride and gratitude in the depths of his gaze were unmistakable, as was the nostalgia.

"You’ve taken such good care of him," he said. "Thank you."

Yan took both their hands in his own. "Let’s go home," he said. "We’ve kept him waiting for too long."

They walked onward into the darkness.