Lighting a Lantern at Your Brow - Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Both Yun Xi and Zhang Huailu froze.

“Came back to life?”

The junior attendant caught his breath, still stammering as he described what had happened.

After Cheng Chang’s body was carried into the back hall, the coroner arrived to examine it. After a careful inspection, he confirmed that the eyes, ears, mouth, and nose showed no abnormalities—this was, without a doubt, a drowning case. He then prepared to insert a silver needle into the abdomen to check for signs of poisoning.

But this was the Third Young Master’s body. Sticking a needle into him was one thing, but what if the needle turned black? Should they cut him open for an autopsy? Prince Cong adored his son—if they dissected the body, wouldn’t that mean Cheng Chang would die without an intact corpse? What if that caused more trouble?

While the men debated what to do, one of them happened to glance toward the long table—only to see that Cheng Chang had opened his eyes and was staring straight at them.

The entire room went numb with fear.

But that wasn’t even the most terrifying part. The next moment, Cheng Chang spoke.

“He spoke?” Zhang Huailu found it utterly incomprehensible. He had heard of corpses suddenly opening their eyes, but talking? Was this really happening?

“Yes! The Third Young Master, he… he actually spoke!” The junior attendant’s face turned red as he mimicked Cheng Chang’s bewildered tone, “He said, ‘What’s going on here?’”

Three parts confusion, three parts disbelief, three parts dazed—it was an uncanny impression.

Zhang Huailu exchanged glances with Yun Xi. “Go take a look.”

In the small courtyard behind the hall, the officers on duty had all huddled into a corner, staring at the doorway in a mixture of terror and awe. Meanwhile, Cheng Chang was leaning against the doorframe, throwing up.

Truth be told, this wasn’t the first time Cheng Chang had woken up.

The first time he regained consciousness was when someone dragged him from the river, floating him toward the shore. His head had been pounding unbearably, and before he could make sense of anything, darkness swallowed him again.

The second time was when he was being carried onto the cart. He was briefly jolted awake by a sudden bump, forcing his eyes open just long enough to glimpse ancient-style buildings and streets. He thought he was dreaming, closed his eyes, and passed out once more.

And now, this was the third time he had regained consciousness. Wooden beams overhead. Half-opened lattice windows. The unmistakable atmosphere of an ancient setting. And someone standing nearby, discussing calling for a coroner.

A coroner? As in a forensic examiner?

Cheng Chang finally forced his eyes open. He had just wanted to ask what the hell was going on. But the moment he spoke, the people around him screamed and ran for their lives.

His body had just been pulled from the river, his stomach still full of water. The moment he moved, it churned inside him. He barely made it to the doorway before he started vomiting uncontrollably.

When he was finally done, he wiped his mouth and took another look around. Curved alleyways. Covered corridors. Arched stone paths. Even the most elaborate film set wouldn’t be this detailed, and there wasn’t a single camera in sight.

Alright. So this was that transmi… what was it called again?

Unbelievable as it was, he was starting to get the picture.

Last night, he had been working overtime until late at night. Right before his heart gave out, he had been doing an asset evaluation for a client. A deal worth millions. Well. That was definitely off the table now.

From outside the courtyard, another commotion could be heard. Cheng Chang looked up and saw a group of people approaching. Among them was a woman holding a sword—a very beautiful woman.

Zhang Huailu, along with everyone else, stood there staring, dumbfounded. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, someone murmured, “He has a shadow.”

A shadow. That meant he wasn’t a ghost.

There had been stories of people coming back from the dead, but seeing it happen with their own eyes was something else entirely. When Cheng Chang’s body had been brought in, he had clearly been dead.

Zhang Huailu was the first to recover from the shock. Seeing that Cheng Chang had finally stopped throwing up, he quickly ordered, “Water! Bring the Third Young Master some water!”

One of the attendants hurriedly poured a cup of tea, his hands trembling as he stepped forward and stammered, “T-Third Young Master…”

Cheng Chang was still bent over, unable to straighten up from all the vomiting. He braced himself against the doorframe, raising a hand to take the tea.

He had just come back from the dead, so his entire hand was pale, carrying the coldness of a corpse. Unaware, he accidentally brushed against the attendant passing him the cup. The attendant was already timid by nature. Feeling the icy touch, his fingers trembled, and he lost his grip on the teacup. It slipped from his hands, smacking Cheng Chang right on the forehead before shattering on the ground, drenching his face in hot tea.

The entire courtyard fell silent.

Tea streamed down Cheng Chang’s face in thin rivulets, leaving faint traces of red where the heat stung his skin.

Cheng Chang was also a little dazed.

The attendant collapsed to his knees, forehead knocking against the ground as he pleaded, “Spare me, Third Young Master! Spare me!”

The last time Prince Cong hosted a banquet at their manor, one of the kitchen servants had mistakenly added two extra spoonfuls of sugar to Cheng Chang’s pastries. He had ordered the man dragged out and beaten without a second thought.

And now…

The onlookers glanced between the Third Young Master’s bruised forehead and his soaked face. This was far worse than two spoonfuls of sugar.

They then turned their eyes to the attendant, who seemed doomed beyond saving. Feeling pity for him, the entire courtyard collectively dropped to their knees alongside him.

Zhang Huailu stepped forward cautiously, voice trembling with apprehension. “Third Young Master, are you injured? The physician will be here any moment now, any moment now.”

His tone was a mix of fear and careful flattery.

Cheng Chang wiped his face and exhaled, “Give me a moment.”

“Yes, yes.” Zhang Huailu nodded quickly, then turned to the attendant, his expression immediately darkening. “How can you be so careless? You can’t even pour a simple cup of tea properly? If it weren’t for your diligence in serving, I would have already had you beaten and thrown out of here!” Then, shifting his tone to appeasement, he looked back at Cheng Chang. “Third Young Master, this attendant is young and clumsy, but his mistake was made out of concern for your well-being. He was too anxious and slipped up. I will dismiss him from his post today—please, have mercy and let him go.”

Cheng Chang simply replied, “That’s unnecessary.”

Once again, the courtyard fell silent. For a moment, they weren’t sure if they had misheard. Unnecessary… what? Unnecessary to dismiss him?

Just then, the physician they had called for in the morning had arrived.

A separate room was prepared, and two servants helped Cheng Chang into a chair while the physician checked his pulse.

His pulse was steady and strong—certainly not that of someone who had just died.

The physician gave him a long, assessing look before asking, “Third Young Master, may I check your other wrist?”

Cheng Chang held out his other hand.

That pulse was just as lively as the first.

The physician straightened up and cupped his hands in a bow. “Congratulations, Third Young Master. To die and return to life—you are truly blessed. Great fortune awaits you, great fortune indeed!”

Though the words sounded like a blessing, the physician’s drooping brows made it seem as though he was mourning some great calamity instead.

Cheng Chang was even more confused now. He had no idea how to respond. Was he supposed to say “Same to you”?

Yun Xi, standing to the side, asked, “Physician Qi, could you examine him more thoroughly? The Third Young Master was submerged in water for nearly half an hour—please make sure there are no lasting ailments.”

Hearing this, Cheng Chang turned to look at Yun Xi.

Perhaps it was just his imagination, but in this entire room full of people, she seemed to be the only one who genuinely wanted him to live.

Physician Qi checked his pulse again and asked, “Does the Third Young Master feel any discomfort?”

Cheng Chang took a moment to assess himself. Hmm. Well, he was a little dizzy from throwing up, and everyone looked slightly blurry… “I think… I’m hungry?”

The room fell silent for a moment.

Normally, the Third Young Master only dined on the finest delicacies, served in jade dishes and gold platters. The Magistrate’s Office’s food was coarse and simple—how could it possibly be to his liking?

Zhang Huailu hesitated before suggesting, “Why don’t I arrange for someone to accompany the Third Young Master to Drunken Fragrance Pavilion for some refreshments?”

However, Cheng Chang’s gaze had already drifted toward the small table beside him, where a plate of flaky pastries sat untouched. For some reason, this official wasn’t offering him any.

Fine, then. He had no idea what kind of place Drunken Fragrance Pavilion was, but since he had just arrived in this world, it wouldn’t hurt to look around.

An attendant brought over a clean set of robes. Zhang Huailu quickly explained, “Third Young Master, your clothes were soaked. Though they may seem dry now, they still carry dampness, which could lead to illness. It’s best to change into fresh garments before heading out.” Then, as if afraid Cheng Chang might take offense, he hurriedly added, “The Magistrate’s Office is humble, but this is the finest set of robes we could find. If they don’t suit your taste, feel free to discard them once you return home—yes, discard them!”

Without waiting for Cheng Chang’s response, he quickly led everyone out, leaving only two servants behind to assist with changing.

Cheng Chang had always dressed in luxurious silks, his robes embroidered in bold colors—flashy and extravagant, never subtle. Today, however, he changed into a simple, plain white robe. The moment he stepped outside, the sunlight streamed down upon him, casting a warm glow over his form. Perhaps it was the brightness of the daylight, but suddenly, the arrogance and flamboyance that had always clung to him seemed to fade, revealing a quiet elegance beneath. Strangely, he looked even more striking than before.

The gathered officials and attendants all stared in stunned silence.

Dear heavens… how was it possible for a man to look like this?

Dying once had somehow made him even more handsome.