Three

The howling of the wind and the beating of a drum could be heard. The wind was strong and the drum beats became louder as Zhao Ling struggled to open his eyes. When another strong gust of wind blew, he sat up and gasped for air.

Panic shot through him when he remembered that he had been killed, making him wrap his hands around his throat before pulling them away to look at them. His hands were clean and barely had any blood on them. He blinked hard and looked around him. Fear coursed through his body when he saw nothing but heavy dew all around him.

Zhao Ling inhaled and got a whiff of cold air and a wood-like incense. He looked down at his body and saw he was dressed in a white hanfu with a blood-red sash. Knowing that it wasn't what he had been wearing, he rose and looked around him.

"Where am I?" He whispered and another wind blew, rustling his clothes and hair.

The wind blew harder a few feet away from him, forming a spiral shape for a few seconds before dispersing. He furrowed his eyebrows when he saw a little girl sitting on the floor with her hands fisted together and legs crossed against each other with her head bowed.

"Hello?" He said cautiously and she raised her head with glowing white eyes.

Zhao Ling staggered backward and fell. He stiffened when the girl rose and his eyed widened when he saw her face. It was the girl from the crowd before his death.

"You remember me?" She asked in a soft voice and he simply nodded. "Do not be scared, I am only here to help you."

"Help me?" He repeated. "What are you here to help me with?"

"Your death."

At her words, Zhao Ling began to remember everything that happened. Anger filled his core, followed by hatred. When he saw Zhao Feng, Lui Mei, and his people's faces, he got angry, making the red sash around his waist glow a bright red. He eyed the sash until the glow stopped.

"My death? You want to help me? Why did you not help me before I died if you claim you can help me?" Zhao Ling asked and rose to his feet.

The girl shrugged. "I must do this and not help you in the mortal world."

Zhao Ling scoffed. "Where am I?"

"You are between the afterlife and the mortal world," she replied and pointed behind him.

Zhao Ling turned around and was met with two mirror-like doors that showed his reflection. A second later, the mirror on the left showed him a celebration in the palace. Zhao Feng and Lui Mei were both in royal dresses, sitting on the throne with a happy crowd. On the other mirror was a green landscape with the sun shining brightly.

"Who are you?"

The girl stood beside him and he looked down at her.

"I am only a guardian. I was sent to keep an eye on you the moment we suspected what was going to happen."

"And you did not stop it?"

The girl grimaced. "Sadly, we do not have the power to do such. I wish I could have helped but things are complicated."

Zhao Ling heard his brother's laughter and looked in the mirror. He was in his bedroom with Lui Mei, acting like two couples in love. A few seconds after, a child ran into the room. The boy laughed with them before they cuddled the child on the bed. The sight made him shocked yet confused.

"They have a child?"

"You have been sleeping since your death, for over ten years, Zhao Ling."

Zhao Ling spun around in shock at the revelation. His eyes were wide as he made sense of what she had said.

"What?"

"Yes, Zhao Ling. You have been sleeping here since your death. Your soul needed cleansing before you are met with the choices you have been blessed with."

"Go straight to the point!" He barked. "I died just a few minutes ago and you tell me that I have been dead for ten years? Meanwhile, the people responsible for my death live without any problems?! How is this fair to my soul?!"

"Death respects no man," she said. "Whether you are good or bad. Once it is your time, you will meet your end. Anyway, your reason for being here isn't for this. While you slept, the god of rage felt the strongest force for the first time in a million years. The goddess of revenge and the army of anger pitied you and kept your soul trapped here until you awaken."

Zhao Ling became interested as the girl spoke in a tender tone. Never in his life would he suspect that such existed. He never believed in spirits or the folktales that had been told.

"Zhao Ling," she said with a straight face. "You have been given the will to get back at them. Do you want to avenge your death?"

Zhao Ling looked back at the mirror and saw how happy the traitors were. The image changed and he saw his mother in the arms of a man. His heart exploded in a fit of rage and the sash glowed red. He fisted his hands as he remembered the death of his father and the allegations made by Zhao Feng.

"You have the power to return and bring vengeance unto your name. Also, they knew that killing you would not stop the laws of the world to get back at them, hence they have tied your soul. The witch, Lui Mei made sure your soul was tied and thrown into the River Of the Cursed. There has been a destiny written by the gods and goddesses. Zhao Ling, you shall return and take back your revenge. Which is why she buried your soul in that vase to keep you tied. Fortunately, we brought you here."

Zhao Ling faced the girl and held her shoulders, only to get zapped. He hissed and rubbed his palms against his thighs.

"Do not touch me," she ordered and he nodded.

"Return me now," he said and she chuckled. "What is funny? My destiny is to protect my people and stop harm from coming to them. If I was given the chance to return, send me back so I slaughter every man and woman who were responsible for my death."

The girl smiled. "Things do not come so easily, Zhao Ling. You were blessed with this does not mean you can return anytime you want. This is a battle between your soul and body. Your soul is trapped in a cursed vase and lies under that river. For it to be released, a pure soul must find it."

Zhao Ling sighed. "Then send someone to find the vase."

"I wish I could but I cannot," she said. "It may take years or centuries before someone finds that vase. Once it is found by the right person, you shall return but not in your full form but as a vengeful spirit. Zhao Ling, is this what you want? Are you prepared to wait hundreds of years before you can take revenge?"

Zhao Ling mulled over her words. He stared back at the mirror and saw montages of Zhao Feng, Lui Mei, and his mother celebrating and cohabiting with known criminals. A montage of the people of the kingdom suffering and dying from hunger and sickness flashed on the mirror and a wave of deep hatred and anger filled his soul. He clenched his hands hard the more different images appeared in the mirror.

"Or would you rather ascend into your paradise and let your death be in vain?" The girl suggested and he looked at the other mirror.

Zhao Ling gritted his teeth and faced the girl with a stoic expression.

"What must I do for this person to find me?"

The girl smiled. "All you have to do is keep cultivating the anger, the rage you feel for what the people in your past life did to you. Once the time has arrived, your vase shall be found and broken. On that day, you shall be free."

Zhao Ling nodded. "Where is my body? I was beheaded, wasn't I?"

"Yes." The girl turned away and waved her hand in the dewy atmosphere.

Zhao Ling gasped when the dew cleared, opening a path. At the end of the short path, was his body, floating in the air. He rushed over to it and eyed the state of the unconscious body was in. He was fully clothed in his royal garments and his sword strapped to his hips. He raised his hand and touched his cheek, which made the body crumble to dust.

"You will become fully human during or after your mission." The girl approached him and tilted her head back to look at him. "Zhao Ling, Prince of the Zhao Clan. Do you accept this path?"

Zhao Ling took a deep breath and bowed to the girl before raising his head to look deep into her eyes.

"I accept. I will make their blood flow even if it means destroying the last lineage produced by the bloodline of Zhao Feng and all those who are his accomplice. I will ruin their lives," he uttered with passion and rage in his voice.