Chapter Ninety-One: The Thief Never Leaves Empty-Handed

The danger was close at hand.

“I’ll take the risk!”

Without another word, Zhao Fusheng drew the substitute paper figure from the infernal depths with her mind.

The moment she released the malevolent spirit, the ferocity of the stand-in ghost spread outward at once.

But before its ghost domain could even take shape, it was instantly suppressed by the power of the phantom carriage.

Just then, Zhao Fusheng withdrew her inferno.

The prompt warning her功德 had been deducted immediately ceased.

As the shadow of hell receded, the stand-in ghost had not yet moved when scarlet threads dropped from above the carriage and bound it fast.

The force that had been tightly drawing at Zhao Fusheng’s body abruptly slackened. She was flung from the carriage wall and stumbled forward several steps before catching herself.

The blood threads lashed around the substitute ghost’s neck, restraining the malevolent spirit’s movements.

A name tag dangled above it, bearing her name.

At the same time, there was already a “Zhao Fusheng” inside the carriage, and the true Zhao Fusheng was being repelled by the already full phantom carriage.

Once the seats were filled, there was no longer any place for her.

Zhao Fusheng had gambled correctly.

With a crash, the lid above the carriage suddenly flew open, and a bitter wind poured inside.

The force of expulsion shoved Zhao Fusheng out of the carriage.

She rode that force up onto the roof. Only then did she realize that she had never truly been inside the carriage at all—

The roomy compartment had become a huge black coffin. A ghost in blue robes sat at the front, driving the phantom horses, expressionless as it moved forward.

In one hand, the ghost held a bizarre book; in the other, a golden bell.

It gave the bell a shake. A clear ring sounded, and the phantom horse seemed to find its path, proceeding in the direction the ghost intended.

The coffin lid beneath Zhao Fusheng snapped shut with a heavy thud, and the force of its closing pitched her toward the ghost driving the carriage.

The phantom carriage dealt with those “expelled” from it. That, too, was why this ghostly vehicle had roamed for so many years without the Demon-Suppressing Office ever finding a clue.

The sudden mishap left her briefly panicked, though it was also within her expectations.

She tried to kick off the coffin for leverage and distance herself from the ghost’s killing reach, but the instant her toe touched the coffin’s surface, she seemed to think of something and changed her mind.

As the saying went, a thief never leaves empty-handed.

If fortune is to be found, it must be found in danger.

“I lost a substitute paper figure. I ought to recover something for it.”

As greed stirred in her heart, her courage swelled.

Zhao Fusheng became eager to try and immediately allowed the ghost’s power to seize her.

As she drew near the ghost driving the carriage, the sallow, blue-tinged face of the malevolent spirit slowly turned. It opened its mouth, revealing a black throat bottomless as the abyss.

To meet a ghost face to face—there was no need to speak of the terror that brought.

Zhao Fusheng shuddered.

She forced herself to ignore the fear and focused all her attention on the golden bell in the ghost’s hand.

A pale ghost hand clamped around her neck, and coldness instantly flooded through Zhao Fusheng’s body.

The ghost’s strength was monstrous, dragging her toward its mouth.

In her eyes, the ghost’s maw swelled rapidly, opening a hundredfold in an instant.

Just as she was about to be stuffed into it, she reached out and seized the golden bell from the ghost’s hand.

The ghost’s power recoiled.

The bell rang in a frantic burst.

The ghost’s aura enveloped her entire body. Her flesh was rapidly drained away, her skin collapsed inward, yet the outer layer of skin remained intact, hanging loose over her arms.

It was as if the ghost and the golden bell had become one; she could not wrench the bell away by force.

At this critical moment, Zhao Fusheng let her arm drop, and the ghost arm hidden within her hand slid out at once, landing in her palm.

The torn human skin in the ghost’s grasp peeled away. She lifted the ghost hand and struck twice against the driving ghost’s arm.

The beggar ghost’s severed arm was instantly roused. Its palm opened and seized the golden bell in a single sweep.

This was a hand that could demand objects; once it reached out to ask for something, neither man nor ghost could refuse.

The law of the ghost arm took effect.

The moment the driver ghost’s bell was caught, its instinct forced it to release its grip.

The golden bell fell into the beggar ghost’s hand.

The instant the bell left the driver ghost’s palm, the malevolent ghost’s rule was broken.

Losing the golden bell mattered more than “dealing with the expelled thing in the carriage.” The driver ghost opened its wide mouth, then closed it again; the hand that had been clutching Zhao Fusheng’s neck loosened, and the freed hand reached for the bell.

Zhao Fusheng escaped death by a hair. As her body plummeted, her peripheral vision swept across the ghost ledger resting on the ghost’s legs. She caught the name marked there:

Zheng He.

At that very moment, the ghost arm that had seized the bell began to tremble violently.

The bell’s rank suppressed the ghost arm. The beggar ghost could beg for the item, but could not command it.

The arm rapidly withered and could no longer hold the bell.

The bell chimed sharply as it fell, and the expressionless ghost driving the carriage turned it around.

If the bell were to fall back into the driver ghost’s hands, not only would her loss of the substitute paper figure for the night be in vain, but even the ghost arm would be damaged beyond recovery. She would have no second chance.

“I’m going to die! I’m going to die!”

Seeing the ghost carriage about to strike her, Zhao Fusheng screamed inwardly. Before the bell could return to the driver ghost’s hands, she endured the suppressive pressure of the ghost and extended her other intact hand, catching the golden bell.

The instant the bell entered her grasp, an extreme chill wrapped around her body.

The backlash from a great evil object of a malevolent ghost was astonishing; it was not something she could seize barehanded at this moment.

She immediately activated her inferno and drew the thunderous bell into it.

The bell’s ringing churned the inferno. The divine registry warned her: expend one hundred merit points to suppress the ghost bell of space and time?

Zhao Fusheng did not hesitate: yes!

The moment the merit points were deducted, the wildly trembling golden bell went silent at once.

All returned to stillness.

The bell’s aura vanished from the mortal world, and the turning ghost lost its target, mechanically straightening its head.

It seemed not to realize that the bell had already disappeared, and still instinctively raised its hand in the motion of shaking it.

With the golden bell gone to guide it, the phantom horse gave its first neigh. It had lost its direction.

Zhao Fusheng fell to the ground.

Ahead of the ghost carriage stood a magnificent mansion.

Walls and fences enclosed it, and before Zhao Fusheng rose a gate more than ten feet high.

Beneath the eaves hung lanterns in profusion. Though it was night, the place was lit as bright as day.

Above the gate were four great characters written in ancient seal script:

The Liu Clan Ancestral Hall.

At that moment, the vermilion doors stood wide open, revealing the lively scene within.

The interior of the Liu Clan Ancestral Hall, before its later renovations, was exceptionally spacious, nothing like the later streets packed with buildings. In the open courtyard stood who knew how many tables and chairs.

Countless servants moved through the banquets.

Guests who had come to celebrate the birthday feast were numerous, each seated at a table eating and drinking.

In the distance, a stage had been erected, brilliant with lantern light and lively with song.

And just as Zhao Fusheng was about to step down from the ghost carriage, something seemed to have gone wrong inside. Someone let out a piercing scream, shouting that a ghost had appeared, drawing everyone’s attention.

The steward standing at the gate, dressed in festive finery and preparing to welcome the guests in for longevity wine, turned and looked inside.

A strange man in a black robe rose to his feet, removed a person’s head, and set it upon his own neck.

As though sensing the gaze from outside, the newly attached-headed ghost instinctively tried to turn.

A dreadful ghost pressure came surging forth.

The moment a ghost looked upon you, an involuntary dread was born.

...

At that moment, the grand mansion from days gone by began to grow translucent.

The lamplight dimmed little by little, and the ear-splitting screams and pitiful cries were drawn farther and farther away until they became faint.

The steward’s altered expression faded. Vermilion gates and red walls vanished, replaced by a dark alley and low, dilapidated houses lining both sides.

Scenes from two different eras overlapped strangely in this night, at this very moment. The uncanny pull of time and space tore at Zhao Fusheng’s consciousness, as though each were vying to make her stay.

“Are you here to offer birthday congratulations to Lord Liu?”

Within the Liu Clan Ancestral Hall of forty years ago, a person wearing a small blue cap and servant’s robe smiled at her and said, “Please, come in at once.”

“Huff... huff... huff...”

Zhao Fusheng panted heavily. Though she wanted to refuse, after receiving the invitation she found herself unable to help wanting to step through the ancestral hall’s great gate.

Terror filled her heart. The remnants of her reason forced her to retreat.

The two time realms were competing for her at once. The gaze of the ghost had seared fear into her mind, greatly disrupting her judgment and plunging her into a brief stupor.

Just as she had become like a walking corpse, her body muddled and uncontrollable as it moved toward the gate of the Liu Clan Ancestral Hall—

someone suddenly barked behind her:

“Who is it!”

That sharp cry instantly erased the eerie feeling brought on by the overlapping of the two times. Zhao Fusheng’s consciousness, as if hearing a mountain bell ring through a muddled valley, was struck awake in an instant and returned to reality.

The ghost carriage had halted before the gate of the Liu Clan Ancestral Hall from forty years ago. The hanging lanterns, like starlight veiled by cloud and mist, vanished little by little.

The vermilion gates and walls were swiftly worn away by passing time, replaced by a row of short, shabby alley houses.

Zhao Fusheng stumbled back several steps, breathing hard with lingering fear.

She turned around, her heart battering wildly against her chest, its pounding so loud she could nearly ignore every sound around her.

The sky was just beginning to lighten. About two zhang away, a tall figure stood there with a long staff in hand, watching her warily and uneasily.

Zhao Fusheng had escaped death. After a long moment, her gaze finally focused, and she recognized him.

“Yizhen, it’s me!”

Her voice still trembled faintly when she spoke, and the moment Liu Yizhen heard her, who had been gripping the staff, let out a long breath.

After a brief hesitation, the young man still stepped forward briskly.

“How are you still here?”

“I—”

What had happened earlier was difficult to explain in a few words. Just as Zhao Fusheng opened her mouth, she stopped herself and instead looked at Liu Yizhen.

“How are you here?”

Seeing that she had answered with a question of her own, Liu Yizhen remained silent for a moment before saying:

“Something happened in the Confucius Temple.”

“What kind of disturbance?” Zhao Fusheng thought of the ghost carriage’s arrival.

After boarding it, the vehicle had carried her to the Liu Clan Ancestral Hall of forty years ago, to celebrate Liu Huacheng’s birthday.

Though separated by different eras, the Ten Thousand An County of forty years later could not see the ghost carriage’s existence, yet with the ghost vehicle appearing in this place, in the time of forty years ago, the headless ghost and Liu Huacheng should both have seen this uninvited guest.

And in the present, forty years later, facing a visitor from the past—

“Did Liu Huacheng and the headless ghost react?” She turned her thoughts and asked it outright.

Liu Yizhen’s usually expressionless face immediately cracked. In shock and dismay, he almost cried out:

“How did you know?”

So that was it!

Zhao Fusheng’s heart sank.

“I can’t tell you the reason for now.” Seeing Liu Yizhen frown, she explained, “You must not hear about this matter. If I tell you, the malevolent ghost will mark you, and then things will become even more troublesome.”

At first Liu Yizhen had thought she was being guarded and unwilling to tell him certain things.

Hearing this, he immediately understood her intention.

He had lived to this age and dealt with ghosts for years; he knew all too well how terrifying they were, and understood that some things could be heard, while others could not.

“Then don’t say it,” he said at once.

Zhao Fusheng nodded.

Liu Yizhen said, “After you left yesterday evening, the Demon-Suppressing Office’s carriage came to fetch you, saying they had come up empty at Granny Meng’s stall and had not seen you.”

At the time, Liu Yizhen had thought she had other matters to attend to and had left alone.

She was a spirit controller.

At least on the surface, in Ten Thousand An County she could walk sideways if she wished.

No one had guessed that anything would happen to her, and Liu Yizhen had not taken the small episode to heart.

It was only at daybreak that he discovered the three ghosts in the temple were all wrong.

“The beggar ghost’s ghost aura had weakened, and both my grandfather’s corpse and the headless ghost in the ghost coffin had fluctuations in their aura.”

At the time, ghost mist spread through the Confucius Temple.

The sudden change frightened Liu Yizhen into a cold sweat, and he thought the three ghosts were about to awaken at once.

Fortunately, after a short while the ghost mist dispersed, and the two great ghosts that had been on the verge of revival once again fell silent.

After it happened, the first person he suspected was Paper Man Zhang.

This fellow came from a family steeped in thievery, was treacherous and cunning, and had long coveted the ghost coffin.

As soon as Liu Yizhen thought of this, he immediately took up his staff and began patrolling Beggars’ Alley.

He had not gone far when he saw a figure in the distance, and said:

“I called out, and you answered.”

Zhao Fusheng knew the reason for the three ghosts’ disturbance very well. With lingering fear still in her heart, she pressed down on the wildly pounding organ in her chest and said:

“It has nothing to do with Paper Man Zhang, because the balance of Beggars’ Alley was nearly broken.”

No one knew what sort of thing that ghost carriage was, but it had actually managed to forcibly break the absolute balance formed by Liu Huacheng and the headless ghost, two great evil ghosts.

As for the beggar ghost’s weakness, it should have been because she used the ghost arm to steal the golden bell and suffered the backlash.

“...”

Liu Yizhen looked at her deeply.

Since she could give an explanation for the situation at the Confucius Temple, it proved she must know something of the inside story. Coupled with her earlier remark that she could not tell him about it or else a mark from a malevolent ghost would be drawn upon him, Liu Yizhen immediately understood that she had encountered a ghost calamity last night.

Not long had passed since the ghost case in Dog-Head Village, and now she had encountered another.

His gaze fell on Zhao Fusheng. Seeing her arms hanging weakly at her sides, her expression somewhat fatigued, and yet her bearing firm and her eyes sharp, Liu Yizhen could hardly tell at all that she had battled ghosts.

Those who control ghosts can scarcely avoid being harmed by their power in return.

To have shaken two ghosts of the great evil level, Liu Huacheng and the headless ghost, showed that the calamity Zhao Fusheng had encountered was no ordinary one. How had she managed to escape such a disaster unscathed?

At that moment, a great upheaval surged through Liu Yizhen’s heart. One horrifying thought after another flashed through his mind.

He even found himself bewildered by Zhao Fusheng’s existence.

Many in Ten Thousand An County now paid attention to her. Anyone with the least connection knew her origins: a pawn once held in the hands of the Fan brothers, who should have been a scapegoat for disaster, yet by some twist of fate had successfully become a spirit controller and ultimately overturned the situation to seize control of the Demon-Suppressing Office.

Such a minor figure, emerging from desperate straits, had in a short time stabilized Ten Thousand An County, which should have been falling out of control.

She had shown extraordinary skill in handling ghost cases.

By the course of events, she was clearly still only a newcomer, yet she repeatedly extricated herself from ghost disasters.

A strange thought rose in Liu Yizhen’s heart: could there truly be a genius in this world at dealing with ghosts, and was Zhao Fusheng the savior of Ten Thousand An County in this present age?

He tactfully refrained from asking about what had happened the night before, and instead probed indirectly:

“Then is the situation stable now?”

Zhao Fusheng straightened her face, momentarily unsure how to answer him.

After hesitating for a moment, she shook her head, her expression somewhat guarded.

“That’s hard to say.”