Chapter Fifty-Six: Taking on Another Ghost Case

Chapter Fifty-Six

“Forget it.” Unable to unravel the cause and effect for the moment, Zhao Fusheng decided simply not to think about it. When the boat reaches the bridge, it will straighten out.

“At present, what’s certain is that Paper Man Zhang’s target lies within the Ghost Coffin.” The beggar alley’s ghost calamity had been resolved, but the Beggar Ghost was not completely sealed away. If Paper Man Zhang truly was, as Zhao Fusheng suspected, a master of ghosts, then his reckless entry into the Temple of Confucius might very well stir the vengeful spirits anew, plunging himself into peril. No matter what, the one who manipulates ghosts can never compare to an immortal ghost; judging by his temperament, he would surely lurk nearby, waiting for a suitable moment to act.

“In any case, he won’t leave. Sooner or later, he’ll lose patience and reveal himself. When we catch him, the truth will come to light.” Zhao Fusheng waved her hand, and the others nodded in agreement.

Zhang Chuan-shi, kneeling beside Zhao Fusheng, let out a barely perceptible sigh of relief. Zhao Fusheng caught this subtlety out of the corner of her eye, a faint smile curling her lips. Then she pressed them together as if she hadn’t noticed his oddity, and turned to Fan Bisi, asking, “Was your trip to County Bao successful?”

The Fan brothers’ expressions stiffened. Fan Bisi kicked his younger brother, and Fan Wujie hurriedly stood and replied, “It went smoothly.”

Fan Bisi nodded as well, “After you suppressed the two ghosts, nothing strange occurred. We hurried, just focusing on speed to finish and return without alarming ‘others’.” By ‘others,’ he referred to Deputy Magistrate Zheng of the Demon Suppression Office in County Bao.

Still, Fan Bisi’s face showed no joy. He hesitated, “But, Fusheng…”

He had barely started, but Zhao Fusheng guessed his unspoken worries: “You’re concerned that this matter can’t be concealed for long, and my parents’ corpses will revive again?”

Fan Bisi lowered his head, silent, but his attitude confirmed her guess.

“No need to worry,” Zhao Fusheng shook her head and rocked her chair twice. “I’ve considered this problem too.” Hearing this, the Fan brothers visibly relaxed.

For reasons unknown, Fan Bisi now both feared and respected her. Since her resurrection, her presence had changed entirely, as if reborn. After resolving the ghost case in Beggar Alley, her authority grew, making Fan Bisi have no doubts about her abilities when she spoke of ghost calamities.

“The revival of vengeful spirits was only temporarily interrupted by me. Now that ghost mist has appeared, such a seal won’t last long. When the situation in County Wan settles, we’ll find a way to resolve this ghost case.” Her words brought smiles to the faces of the Fan brothers.

That day, forced by circumstances, the two buried the Zhao couple’s bodies secretly on County Bao’s land. If exposed, Deputy Magistrate Zheng would never forgive them. Neither brother could manipulate ghosts, and now their protector was dead. If they offended a powerful ghost master, their future would be grim.

If Zhao Fusheng was willing to clean up the aftermath, it would be the best outcome for them.

Zhao Fusheng observed these subtle shifts in the brothers’ expressions and smiled, then gave instructions: “From tomorrow, announce to County Wan that I’ll take over ghost cases. Any cases in the region must be reported by the local towns without delay.”

She then turned to Fan Bisi: “You’re an old hand in the Demon Suppression Office. As before, recruit some menial workers and servants to handle daily affairs. Clean out all the guest rooms, especially the archive room; best to find someone literate and numerate to sort the scattered files.”

Having finished Beggar Alley’s case, she finally had some leisure. Between cases, she would review the files to deepen her understanding of this world and its ghosts.

On hearing this, Fan Bisi felt a great weight lifted and nodded quickly.

“The silver sent by the gentry—” he began, but Zhao Fusheng cut him off: “Put it in the treasury for paying the menials and servants.” She added, “But be meticulous with the accounts.”

Her words startled Fan Bisi. “But this is your private property—”

Across the Han Dynasty, Demon Suppression Offices were never poor; but it was the officers and magistrates who were rich, not the official treasury. Local gentry and powerful families customarily paid protection money to officers—an accepted practice. As for extra expenses, as long as the officer was strong, many sought to serve him for protection.

“No need to pay these men,” Fan Wujie remarked. “If the Office resumes normal operations, not only will you not pay wages, they’ll have to pay you tribute! Better to recruit high-priced officers for greater utility.”

Fan Bisi and Zhang Chuan-shi both nodded, evidently agreeing.

…

Zhao Fusheng paused for a moment of self-reflection. Now with modest assets, she had planned how to minimize labor costs, thinking herself sufficiently ruthless—and yet, those at her side were even more adept at exploitation.

But Fan Wujie’s suggestion didn’t move Zhao Fusheng. Money doesn’t appear from nowhere. If menials were recruited without pay and had to pay tribute instead, one could easily imagine where those funds would come from.

“The Demon Suppression Office will not add officers for now.” Zhao Fusheng, after thinking, shook her head and decided firmly, “Follow my instructions.”

Fan Bisi was puzzled, but as Zhao Fusheng was now the strongest, everyone followed her lead.

With tasks assigned to the brothers, Zhao Fusheng’s gaze fell on Zhang Chuan-shi. Sensing unease, he quickly volunteered, “I can help with the accounts—”

His right eye twitched incessantly, terrified that if he spoke too slowly, disaster would ensue. “I’ve run a shop for years, I’m good at bookkeeping—”

“That won’t be necessary.” Even if he said nothing, Zhao Fusheng wouldn’t forget him. “Your accounts are unclear.”

Zhang Chuan-shi recalled their first dealings and felt guilty. As he tried to defend himself, Zhao Fusheng smiled at him: “Besides, you have other duties.”

Her smile unsettled Zhang Chuan-shi deeply; just as he was trembling in fear, Zhao Fusheng said, “Next time I handle a ghost case, you’ll come with me.”

…

Zhang Chuan-shi’s face turned deathly pale, collapsing to the floor. His eyes bloodshot, he glared fiercely, fists clenched, ready to rebel—but catching Zhao Fusheng’s cold gaze, waiting for an outburst, his anger and resentment immediately dissipated.

“Zhao—Master Zhao—” he called, his body shaking.

The Fan brothers glanced at each other, relieved to have escaped disaster.

Zhao Fusheng’s words made two things clear:

First, she held a grudge against Paper Man Zhang, and Zhang Chuan-shi was closely connected, having concealed things from her. By taking Zhang Chuan-shi along next time, she meant to teach him a lesson—and also warn the Fan brothers.

Second, she assigned tasks within the Office, letting the Fan brothers handle daily affairs and naming Zhang Chuan-shi as her companion on the next ghost case—implying the brothers would not participate. This was excellent news for them.

Fan Bisi, always thoughtful, guessed that this was their reward for successfully burying the Zhao couple. Realizing this, he knew how to act in the future.

Zhang Chuan-shi was no fool, and he too understood, quickly protesting, “I really don’t know where Paper Man Zhang went. He’s alive, but as for manipulating vengeful ghosts, I truly don’t know, Master Zhao…”

Hearing this, Zhao Fusheng planted her feet firmly, sitting up straight. She leaned forward to look at Zhang Chuan-shi: “Is that all?”

He was so startled by her closeness that he collapsed onto his heels, nodding frantically: “Yes, I’m just an ordinary person, only distantly related to Paper Man Zhang. I use his reputation for some leverage, just to survive—”

Zhao Fusheng smiled, reminding him: “Old Zhang, when my parents’ vengeful spirits revived, the two doors left behind bore ghostly shadows. Did you tell Paper Man Zhang about that?”

At her words, Zhang Chuan-shi broke out in a cold sweat, unable to speak.

“We held the funeral, and you immediately reported—”

After Beggar Alley’s ghost calamity, her understanding of vengeful spirits had grown immensely. Objects associated with ghosts could become cursed artifacts: Liu Huacheng’s Life Ledger, the Headless Ghost’s Coffin, and the Zhao couple’s doors. Zhang Xiongw, besides coveting the Ghost Coffin, likely sought other cursed items. On the day of the Zhao couple’s burial, Zhang Chuan-shi closed his shop, probably to deliver information. His coffin shop was opposite the Demon Suppression Office, and after the Office’s disaster, he stayed on—clearly with ulterior motives.

“What do you want by staying here?” Zhao Fusheng asked again.

Zhang Chuan-shi dripped with sweat, lips trembling, unable to answer.

…

Zhao Fusheng had no intention of forcing him, letting out a cold laugh: “If you won’t speak, so be it. I have patience. We’ll see whose luck lasts longer.”

…

At her words, Zhang Chuan-shi shivered, collapsing like a frostbitten eggplant.

Zhao Fusheng paid him no further mind, dismissing everyone with a wave.

That night was the calmest since her rebirth in this strange world. No vengeful ghosts revived, and her room was far more comfortable than anything in Beggar Alley. Yet Zhao Fusheng found herself unusually sleepless, unable to rest all night.

Fortunately, after resolving the ghost case, Magistrate Pang wisely did not come to disturb her.

During the day, she made up for lost sleep, and by noon felt much better.

Fan Bisi, though ruthless, was tactful and efficient. After receiving her orders, he accomplished his tasks quickly within a day. The people he selected seemed honest and reliable, cleaning the archive room while Zhao Fusheng slept.

When Zhao Fusheng awoke, Fan Bisi brought her a plate of freshly baked flatbread. “All I found were menials for now; it’ll take time to find someone suitable to organize the files—”

He watched her with cautious glances, seeing her wolf down the bread without anger, relaxing inside. “So I had people clean the room and gather the scattered files; once we find someone, they’ll be properly sorted.”

“Good,” Zhao Fusheng nodded.

The flatbread was coarse, rough on the throat. Seeing her frown, Fan Bisi quickly explained, “After the Office’s ghost disaster, many wealthy families fled the city, so supplies are scarce. In time, things will improve.”

Life in the Han Dynasty was indeed primitive. Even this flatbread was a luxury most people could not afford.

Her primary goal was not eating but accumulating merit to preserve her own life.

“Alright,” she replied, “You handle minor matters these days. Don’t disturb me unless necessary. If Magistrate Pang has news, let me know immediately.”

With the Life Ledger in her possession, she kept the Fan brothers firmly in check. She wasn’t worried about them plotting in major affairs—nor did she intend to entrust them with anything important. For minor matters, she knew which to manage and which to delegate.

From what she observed, Fan Bisi handled her instructions well.

She handed him the empty plate; he took it, and Zhao Fusheng entered the cleaned guest room. It was vastly different from when she first arrived.

The room was spotless, broken furniture and bloodstains scrubbed away, though water marks remained. The scattered files had been gathered and stacked, the bookshelves polished clean, and the bloodied cobwebs above removed. With the window opened, the room was bright and comfortable.

Fan Bisi followed, hesitating for a moment before Zhao Fusheng spoke: “If you have something to say, speak.”

She was surveying the room but seemed to have eyes in the back of her head, reading his every move.

Fan Bisi trembled, then said, “Fusheng, about the doors—” He paused, “When we buried your parents, I worried about problems, so I took it upon myself to have the doors and coffin buried separately.”

He had long known that objects associated with vengeful spirits could become cursed, but previously kept part of the truth hidden, wary of Zhao Fusheng. Zhang Chuan-shi’s situation had alerted him, prompting his sincerity today.

Zhao Fusheng smiled, knowing her handling of Zhang Chuan-shi was yielding results.

Fan Bisi was indeed clever; if used well, he would be a valuable asset.

“You did well. When I have time, I’ll dig up the doors.”

Though mature, Fan Bisi was still young and had been anxious; now, praised by her, he smiled broadly.

For days, Zhao Fusheng left all affairs to others, immersing herself in the archives, studying the Demon Suppression Office’s handling of ghost cases in County Wan, learning from their experience.

Ten days passed in a flash.

And on this day, Magistrate Pang himself arrived in a sedan, accompanied by his secretary and several anxious elders, stepping into the Demon Suppression Office.

They brought a new ghost case, hoping Zhao Fusheng would resolve it.