Chapter 81: The Secret of the Demon Lantern
Chapter 81
The haunting in Doghead Village was perilous beyond compare—one might call it a narrow escape from death. Yet Zhao Fusheng arrived at precisely the right moment.
County Magistrate Pang and the others were eager to test her attitude, so she made sure to come before the Doppelgänger Ghost had wiped out all the former witnesses. Following the faintest of clues, she unraveled the specter’s past, discerned its characteristics and rules, and ultimately succeeded in resolving the case.
Though the ordeal was fraught with danger, not only did Zhao Fusheng survive by a stroke of fortune, she also reaped incredible rewards.
The Doppelgänger Ghost was no ordinary fiend. Zhao Fusheng recalled the Divine Register’s words when settling her reward: “You have prevented the ascension of a great ghost, nipping a future cataclysmic disaster in the bud.”
Because the Doppelgänger Ghost’s rule was near-invincible, upon completing this case, Zhao Fusheng was granted a full thousand merit points—five or six times what she’d received for solving the calamity in Beggar’s Alley.
Clearly, her earlier supposition was correct: the merit earned from resolving a ghost case is not only related to the ghost’s rank and the number of people saved, but also to the disaster the specter might have wrought—all calculated by the Divine Register.
Sensing the 986 merit points still remaining in her mind-sea, Zhao Fusheng felt both pleased and regretful.
Alas, as the Ghost Hand and the specter she controlled nearly revived as she hovered on the brink of death, the Divine Register had used 20 merit points to suppress them. Otherwise, after this journey to Doghead Village, she could have unlocked the second level of Hell.
She already knew how invaluable Hell was. A few more upgrades and enough merit, and in the future, when facing a malevolent spirit of the Calamity rank, she might not need to struggle so desperately—she could simply imprison it in Hell.
Even if she couldn’t upgrade Hell this time, after another case, she’d surely have enough merit to open the second level.
Her attention drifted to the Divine Register’s divine positions. At present, opening a divine position required only 100 merit points, but this was of little use to her right now. The ghosts she commanded were not yet of high enough rank to qualify. For now, merit was more important; so long as she didn’t use her ghosts’ powers, she could suppress them with merit, and leave the divine positions unopened.
With that, Zhao Fusheng sent her consciousness into Hell.
She quickly located the doppelgänger talisman she’d sealed within. The fiend was now tranquil, sealed within the bloody paper figure, far removed from the terror it had inspired in Doghead Village.
With a thought, shadows spilled forth, cloaking her hand in invisible darkness, and she plucked a crimson paper figure, palm-sized, from the void.
It was pieced together from scraps of skin, with dark red blood seeping from the seams. Even under Hell’s suppression, the glow of blood pulsed with an evil aura.
From behind the paper figure, she sensed the gaze of something lurking in the darkness.
Pinching the figure, a chill crept into her body through her fingertips.
The Divine Register had once warned her: this figure shared her name, blood, and flesh.
“A doppelgänger talisman—a double…”
Recalling the Divine Register’s term for it, she rubbed the paper figure again, and a wild, audacious thought sprang to mind:
“I earned a thousand merit points for solving the Doghead Village case. If I release the ghost and seal it again, can I harvest more merit?”
If all went smoothly, perhaps with a few repetitions, she could unlock several levels of Hell in one go.
But Zhao Fusheng knew she was deluding herself. First, the ghost sealed in the talisman was too vicious; once freed, she might not capture it again. Second, its power was too great—if it escaped, countless innocents would die.
“Not wise, not wise.”
After pondering for a moment, she regretfully abandoned the notion of farming merit.
The shadows of Hell receded, taking the paper figure with them. Her inner sense notified her that one merit point had been spent—such a trifle she didn’t mind at all.
She took stock of her gains, then turned her gaze to Zhang Chuanshi, huddled within the carriage.
His body was mangled, clutching the Soul Registry as he shrank in the corner. Noticing her deep in thought earlier, the old man had sensibly kept silent, afraid to disturb her.
Now that she looked his way, Zhang Chuanshi perked up and shuffled forward on his haunches, squeezing out a sycophantic smile:
“My lady…”
Zhao Fusheng nodded and asked, “Are your wounds painful?”
He winced, sucking in a breath, and touched his cheek—only to press a wound and come away with a bloody hand, recoiling in fright.
“My lady, your wisdom and valor are unparalleled. This time—” He was about to flatter her when Zhao Fusheng cut him off.
“I asked if your wounds hurt.”
“A little,” he replied honestly, adding, “But with the Soul Registry, I can bear it.”
Zhao Fusheng smiled. “We’re lucky to be alive after facing such a ghost. With the registry, you won’t die, but it’ll take a month to heal.”
“All thanks to your protection, my lady! I was blind before, truly deserved to die!” Zhang Chuanshi forced a smile onto the half of his face that was still intact. “Once I recover, I’ll obey your every word—I’ll be your loyal old dog if you wish!”
He swore solemnly, “I’ll handle all the Demon Suppression Office’s accounts for you. If anyone dies, I’ll make sure my shop’s best coffins are used!”
Zhao Fusheng couldn’t help but laugh.
The old man thought: the office had several people now, but aside from Zhao Fusheng, that Liu Yizhen wasn’t present—truly lucky for him. In the yamen, only the Fan brothers, himself, and the new recruit Wu Shaochun remained.
Wu Shaochun was just a simple country lad, alive only thanks to Zhao Fusheng’s intervention, but seemed none too bright. He’d gone on this case with Zhao Fusheng, but surely he wouldn’t be sent again next time. If another case came and Wu Shaochun went, he’d be doomed—then would be Zhang Chuanshi’s chance to show loyalty.
He’d run his coffin shop on the office’s business for years and had a tidy sum saved. If Wu Shaochun died, he’d bring out his finest coffin to prove his worth to Zhao Fusheng.
As Zhang Chuanshi’s thoughts wandered, Zhao Fusheng suddenly asked:
“Where is Paper Zhang hiding now?”
“He’s—” Zhang Chuanshi blurted, then realized he’d slipped. He found Zhao Fusheng smiling at him.
Deflated, a look of grievance appeared in his one good eye. “You already knew, my lady—why toy with me?”
He sighed, “I’m just an ordinary man, distantly related to the Zhangs, but in these times, that’s hardly worth special notice.”
Paper Zhang was likely a ghost handler—his state was clearly not that of a living man. As for Zhang Chuanshi, an ordinary old man, even if related, he couldn’t expect much favor.
Yet Zhao Fusheng was unmoved by his words. Lowering his gaze to the Soul Registry, Zhang Chuanshi gritted his teeth. Blood flowed from his wounds, and he hurried to staunch it, saying:
“But I’ve done many things for him over the years, so I do know some secrets. Ask whatever you wish, my lady.”
“What have you done for him?” Zhao Fusheng inquired.
His eye shifted uneasily—without eyelids, its every movement was plain to see. He seemed to realize that, after surviving this ordeal, he was in no position to prevaricate.
After a moment’s hesitation, he replied, “I’ve brokered several deals for him. The Demon Suppression Office’s officers were all introduced through me.”
Once he began, there was no turning back. “Over the years, some lucky officers of Wanan County, after solving cases, have obtained cursed objects.”
He added, “Like the ghost coffin you mentioned—anything tainted by ghosts becomes a cursed object.”
“Paper Zhang seeks such things and spares no effort to collect them. I live next door to the office, so whenever I hear of anything, I inform him.”
At this, Zhao Fusheng let out a cold laugh.
He shrank, guilt in his eyes. “That day, after your parents’ deaths, they left behind a pair of doors imprinted with ghost marks—a cursed object.”
At her words, Zhang Chuanshi looked everywhere but at her. She’d long suspected him—he’d likely gotten wind of events and intended to warn Paper Zhang. Now, hearing him admit it, she felt little anger.
“I—I meant to inform Paper Zhang that day, but by chance, I ran into you. Afterward, we traveled together, and I never got the chance. Rest assured, my lady, the secret isn’t out.”
Seeing she didn’t rebuke him, he guessed she wasn’t angry and grinned obsequiously:
“Now I’m utterly loyal to you, my lady. If you send me east, I dare not go west. Secrets of the office will never leave my lips.”
“Oh?” Zhao Fusheng asked, smiling.
“Yes, yes!” Zhang Chuanshi nodded frantically.
“Then next time there’s a case, you’ll accompany me again.” At this, his face changed instantly.
“Spare me, my lady!”
He hadn’t understood the cause of this case, had been marked by a ghost, and barely survived by luck. If it weren’t for Zhao Fusheng sealing the ghost, he’d have died without even realizing it.
Dealing with ghosts was not work for an old man like him! He was about to beg for mercy, but recalled Zhao Fusheng’s unyielding nature—the decision was not his to make.
He quickly changed tack. “My lady, my life is still of use.”
“For what?” Zhao Fusheng asked, knowing her intimidation had worked.
“You know Paper Zhang’s ghost lantern can shield people from ghosts, yes?” Zhang Chuanshi’s expression shifted; he seemed to resolve himself.
“Yes,” Zhao Fusheng nodded.
He took a deep breath. “But do you know how the ghost lantern is made?”
She’d expected him to offer a secret for his life, but not this one. The lantern’s importance was clear—her interest was piqued. But instead of pressing for details, she mused aloud:
“You mentioned cursed objects, then the ghost lantern…”
“Cursed objects are connected to ghosts. The lantern’s purpose is to hide people from their gaze, keeping them safe,” she speculated. “Perhaps when the lantern is lit, it emits a domain like a ghost’s territory, cloaking those within in light, making them invisible to ghosts.”
“To achieve that effect, is the lantern made from cursed objects?” Zhao Fusheng asked.
A look of bitterness crossed his face. He’d hoped to maintain some leverage, but she’d seen through him. Still, among the ghost handlers of Wanan’s Demon Suppression Office, this was no secret—Paper Zhang had traded with them before, and many guessed his lantern’s oil was rendered from cursed things. The real trick was how to process them into a protective lantern.
“Yes,” he replied, wiping his face. “Paper Zhang doesn’t just use cursed objects for oil. The best oil comes from the corpses of revived ghosts, but those are hard to catch, so he makes do.”
He went on, “My uncle—well, nephew—makes lanterns from human skin and oil from cursed things. He’s discreet, but I’ve glimpsed him cleaning up after rendering oil more than once.”
“We’re both Zhangs—if he can make oil, so can I. If need be, I’ll close my shop—” He was about to vow, then remembered his livelihood and amended, “Well, I’ll have someone else run it, and devote myself to making ghost lanterns for you. How about that, my lady?”
“We’ll see,” Zhao Fusheng replied. The “secret” was hardly satisfying.
Yesterday, in Doghead Village, Old Wu had said he’d met Zhang Xionwu years ago—a gray-haired old man in black robes, the sleeves so wide that, arms folded, they resembled a coffin lid across his chest. That detail struck Zhao Fusheng—she’d suspected Paper Zhang’s robe was made from a coffin lid.
She didn’t know how he’d changed its shape, but if the Zhangs could refine cursed things, they could certainly render “ghost oil” for lanterns.
But if that was all Zhang Chuanshi had to say, it wouldn’t suffice.
She pondered, then asked, “Why does Paper Zhang want you watching the Demon Suppression Office? What does he seek?”
Since the lantern’s secret was out, Zhang Chuanshi gave up all pretense. “He wants the Soul Registry. I don’t know why, but he told me to get it. The Fan brothers likely made similar deals with him, but…”
He trailed off, but Zhao Fusheng understood.
Paper Zhang had likely struck deals with the Fan brothers too. They’d use the Soul Registry as a bargaining chip to hire him, and if successful, after Zhao Fusheng’s family led away the ghost, the brothers would find someone to head the office and erase their names from the registry. Then Paper Zhang would make his own move to secure it for himself.