Chapter Ninety-Two: Catastrophe-Class Specter Disaster

Chapter Ninety-Two

What kind of answer was this? Liu Yizhen was momentarily speechless.

Zhao Fusheng forced a bitter smile and said, “I can’t tell you the specifics, but I believe the problem is very serious.”

This matter was entangled with the temporal golden bell on the Ghost Carriage. The bell had been stolen by her using the ghost arm, and the ghost controlling the carriage relied on it for guidance. Without this bell, the carriage, which had run rampant in Wan’an County, was now stalled—for the moment, it was likely trapped in the Liu family ancestral hall forty years ago, stopped on the day of Liu Huacheng’s sixtieth birthday.

Looking on the bright side, Zhao Fusheng had more or less resolved a ghost case: the Ghost Carriage case should no longer occur for now, and the innocent citizens of Wan’an County were temporarily safe.

But unfortunately: the Confucius Temple was in danger.

The Headless Ghost and Liu Huacheng had formed a sort of balance, but with the carriage stopped here, any disturbance might stimulate both ghosts to awaken immediately.

These two were not easy adversaries—should a ghost calamity emerge, it would be especially troublesome.

Thinking of this, Zhao Fusheng donned the mask of pain. At the same time, another question occurred to her—at the moment the carriage ghost threw her off, she glimpsed the ghost ledger resting on its knees, where a name was written: Zheng He.

Although she had never heard this name before, the most familiar person she knew with the surname Zheng was…

Suddenly, she asked, “What’s the name of Deputy Magistrate Zheng in Bao County?”

Her thoughts were as wild as a galloping horse. Liu Yizhen couldn’t follow her reasoning, but hearing her question, he replied, “Zheng He.”

It was him!

Zhao Fusheng bared her teeth, drawing in a cold breath, and sighed, “I truly owe him an apology.”

The bell from the Ghost Carriage was lost, but the carriage ghost still possessed two formidable items. Bereft of the guiding bell, it still had the ghost ledger. If it continued to hunt according to the names listed, Deputy Magistrate Zheng might be the next unfortunate prey of the Ghost Carriage.

Yet, in a stroke of luck amid misfortune: with the bell taken, the carriage lost its direction. If Zheng’s luck held, the carriage might still roam aimlessly, but without the guiding bell, it wouldn’t easily find him for the time being—

Fortunately, Deputy Magistrate Zheng was about to face the awakening of the fierce ghost; perhaps he wouldn’t survive long enough for the carriage to appear.

Zhao Fusheng sincerely hoped, “Let’s hope his luck is good.”

“…”

Liu Yizhen heard her sighing cryptically and could only vaguely guess that the ghost case she encountered last night somehow involved Deputy Magistrate Zheng.

Though he didn’t understand the connection, his curiosity was not overwhelming, and knowing ghost cases were matters of life and death, he chose not to ask further.

“Forget it, let him fend for himself.” Zhao Fusheng shook her head and asked, “Is there any food? I’m hungry.”

“…”

Liu Yizhen was still struggling to keep up with her leaps of thought, but at her question, he shook his head, “It hasn’t been cooked yet.”

“Not cooked?” Zhao Fusheng nodded toward him, “In that case, why don’t we go to Granny Meng’s stall for soup? I have something to ask you—let’s talk on the way.”

Liu Yizhen hesitated.

For some reason, he felt a vague sense of unease, and so remained wary, standing where he was.

“Come on.” Zhao Fusheng, seeing him unmoving, urged, “My treat!”

Since their acquaintance, she had not shown herself to be ruthlessly cunning; both were cautious, each bound by the other, carefully seeking a path to coexistence.

Now, with her goodwill evident, and only offering soup—a familiar place close by, with Granny Meng being an acquaintance—it seemed safe enough.

His unease might be nothing more than a misgiving.

With this thought, Liu Yizhen nodded.

Their conversation had delayed them somewhat, and by the time they emerged from Beggar’s Alley, dawn was already breaking.

Granny Meng’s stall was already set out, a few people sipping soup at the tables.

Seeing Zhao Fusheng arrive, those few wolfed down their soup, poured the last drops into their mouths, dropped two large coins on the table, and—without even wiping their mouths—quickly stood and greeted her, “Good morning, Magistrate Zhao!”

They were bailiffs from the yamen.

Magistrate Pang executed Zhao Fusheng’s instructions meticulously; after she ordered strict defense around the Confucius Temple and assigned patrols, Pang instantly complied, treating it as Wan’an County’s top priority.

Zhao Fusheng nodded to them.

The bailiffs, seeing her acknowledge them, showed excitement, but then, aware of her status as a ghost handler, grew fearful and quickly slipped away.

The stall that had moments ago been lively quickly emptied. Granny Meng, busy at the stove, turned to see Zhao Fusheng and let out a relieved breath, “Magistrate Zhao, you’re here.”

Zhao Fusheng nodded, “Two bowls of soup, I’m hungry.”

Granny Meng answered, ladled out two bowls and placed them on the table, but did not leave immediately; she picked up her apron and wiped her hands, looking at Zhao Fusheng, “Last night I saw you get into a carriage. I called out to you several times but you didn’t respond, and I was worried something had happened to you—”

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Just as Liu Yizhen took a sip from his bowl, he was caught off guard by this remark and immediately choked, coughing up the soup, “Pfft!!”

Soup and saliva sprayed across the table; Granny Meng was momentarily stunned.

“Ew—” Zhao Fusheng’s face twisted in distaste, complaining, “You’re disgusting.”

Liu Yizhen glared angrily at her.

He really should not have left the Confucius Temple to deal with Zhao Fusheng.

She was nothing but trouble; he ought to have trusted his instincts!

Last night she had encountered a difficult ghost case, and now with Granny Meng mentioning the ‘carriage,’ Liu Yizhen could guess—the case involved the carriage!

There weren’t many ghost cases involving a carriage; his expression darkened, “You tricked me!”

Annoyed, Liu Yizhen lost his usual composure.

His face alternated between pale and green, and after a moment, he set his bowl heavily on the table, his expression grim.

“Yizhen—” Zhao Fusheng called out earnestly, “Why speak so harshly? How can this be called trickery?” She looked innocent, “I just invited you for soup, I said nothing.”

“…”

Granny Meng, seeing the sudden argument between two people who had seemed to get along well, was at a loss, unsure if her words had caused the conflict, her face showing confusion.

“S-sorry, was it me—”

“It’s nothing to do with you.” Even in anger, Liu Yizhen could distinguish right from wrong. He sighed and glanced at Zhao Fusheng, “She set me up.”

“I did not.” Zhao Fusheng refused to shoulder the blame.

After rebutting, she signaled Liu Yizhen to stay calm, then turned to Granny Meng, “You saw me get into the carriage last night?”

As she asked, her thoughts shifted rapidly.

Granny Meng nodded, anxiously wiping her hands again, “It was an unoccupied black carriage; it didn’t look right, and it wasn’t the one the Demon Suppression Office brought you in yesterday morning, so I called out to you several times—”

She spoke, afraid Liu Yizhen might erupt again, and glanced at him furtively.

She saw Liu Yizhen’s face was unusually grim, his fists clenched, but he did not speak, enduring his anger with resignation.

“But you seemed not to hear, swaying as you climbed aboard.” Granny Meng, unsure what she’d said wrong, hurried to finish, “I chased a couple of steps, but the carriage left, and in the blink of an eye it disappeared—I thought I must have imagined it.”

“Not long after, the Demon Suppression Office’s carriage came to pick you up, and I was worried.”

She packed up her stall and went home, unable to sleep well that night.

“Luckily I saw you return this morning, so I must have worried too much last night,” Granny Meng said.

Zhao Fusheng smiled and nodded.

The perils of last night could not be summed up in a few words, but she said nothing more to Granny Meng, only, “It’s fine, I met an acquaintance last night and got in to exchange a few words.”

Liu Yizhen glared at her helplessly. When Zhao Fusheng and Granny Meng had exchanged a few pleasantries, the old woman went to clear other dirty bowls.

Once she left, Liu Yizhen’s face showed anger, “You’ve harmed me!”

“I have not,” Zhao Fusheng shook her head.

Liu Yizhen said, “You encountered the Ghost Carriage last night.” He added, “And this must not be spoken of outside, or the ghost’s laws will mark you.”

When they met again in Beggar’s Alley, Zhao Fusheng purposely said she couldn’t explain, misleading him into thinking she had no intention of involving him in the ghost calamity, so he let down his guard and was tricked.

“Yes.”

Zhao Fusheng smiled, “But it wasn’t I who brought up the case. Everything was coincidence.”

“Coincidence—” Liu Yizhen wanted to curse, but his manners prevailed and he swallowed the last word, instead saying, “You brought me out here, saying you wanted to ask something; you intended to discuss this case all along.”

He glared at Zhao Fusheng.

Granny Meng, worried, furtively watched the two. The soup Liu Yizhen had sprayed still lay unrecovered on the table, the two bowls of millet and vegetable soup steaming, mingling aroma with warmth.

The atmosphere between Liu Yizhen and Zhao Fusheng was tense.

After a while, Zhao Fusheng suddenly laughed, “Pfft.”

“…”

Liu Yizhen stared at her with a wooden expression.

After a moment, he too found it all somewhat ironic, and couldn’t help but pull at the corners of his mouth, shaking his head.

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“Have you figured it out?” Zhao Fusheng raised an eyebrow.

Liu Yizhen regained his composure and nodded, “You must have your reasons for doing this—I just need to accept it and face reality.”

That day in Beggar’s Alley, he knew the killer rules of the Beggar Ghost, but in the end still scooped a bowl of porridge and handed it to her;

Now, the tables had turned—she needed his help and dragged him into the depths.

Back then Zhao Fusheng had been quietly victimized; now, she was getting her own back.

These are unsettled times.

Both were born in a world ruled by fierce ghosts; there was never absolute safety.

Liu Yizhen now lived in the Confucius Temple itself, sharing residence with three ghosts—a perilous situation in itself.

When you have enough lice, you stop fearing their bites; enough debts, and you cease worrying!

With that thought, he asked directly, “What do you want me to do?”

“Don’t make it sound so unpleasant,” Zhao Fusheng shook her head. “Actually, this matter relates to you; even if I don’t warn you, you can’t escape.”

Her words made Liu Yizhen pause.

“What do you mean?” he asked, though his mind was already recalling things related to ghosts and carriages.

The clues Zhao Fusheng gave were clear; their previous conversations flashed through his mind, and an old case surfaced:

“Decades ago, my grandfather handled—”

His pupils contracted, and he exclaimed, “The Headless Ghost case that triggered the capital’s ghost calamity, the death of the Ghost General—”

“Exactly,” Zhao Fusheng nodded.

“When you mentioned the capital ghost case, you said the Headless Ghost’s resurgence caused the death of a Ghost General in the imperial city.”

At that time, Liu Yizhen had mentioned the Ghost General, and had said in passing: the General’s ghost possessed a formidable item, something like a ship or perhaps a carriage.

Then, Zhao Fusheng hadn’t linked the Ghost General with the Ghost Carriage case, but after escaping the carriage last night, witnessing the fierce ghost driving, she suspected this carriage was the same one the Demon Suppression Office’s Ghost General had once controlled in the capital.

“But—” This revelation shook Liu Yizhen’s understanding; he was momentarily speechless, “Do you have any proof?”

“No,” Zhao Fusheng shook her head. “But it is a carriage driven by a ghost!” she insisted.

In the Han Dynasty, formidable ghost items were not rare, but those that served as vehicles and fell under ghost control were few.

Liu Yizhen could not refute her.

Zhao Fusheng continued, “The ghost’s features were clear—a blue robe with a jade button and golden sash.”

But the Ghost General had died decades ago, and Liu Yizhen did not know what he looked like, while Zhao Fusheng had only recently been reborn in the Han Dynasty. Though she now served in the Demon Suppression Office, it was a temporary position, and she was not familiar with its rules, relying on Fan Bisi for guidance.

“These things can be clarified next time we go to the capital. The most important point is that my ghost has reached the ‘Calamity’ level.”

As she spoke, Liu Yizhen’s expression changed.

If previously his anger at being dragged into the ghost case had some pretense, now his shock was genuine.

He tried to control himself, but his facial muscles still twitched for a moment.

“Yet once in the carriage, I was completely suppressed by it.”

At this, Liu Yizhen’s expression grew more severe, “To suppress a ‘Calamity’-level ghost entirely—the carriage’s power must be at least ‘Disaster’ level—” His eyelid twitched, and with a blank expression, he added, “It might even be—”

He didn’t finish the sentence.

Zhao Fusheng nodded, completing it for him, “Catastrophe level.”

The Ghost Carriage and the fierce ghost driving it, together, their terror might well reach above the Catastrophe level.

That would suit the status of the Ghost General of the time.

The Han court gathered the world’s most powerful ghost handlers; to be appointed as a Ghost General in the capital, one must have controlled at least a Disaster-level, perhaps even a Catastrophe-level ghost item.

Of course, Zhao Fusheng said this because she had dealt with the fierce ghost driving the carriage.

This ghost was wealthy in ghostly assets—golden bell, ghost ledger, a horse, and a carriage.

Only with all four combined would one have an unparalleled, formidable item.

Thus Zhao Fusheng was certain the carriage’s existence was not merely Disaster-level; together with the ghost, it could certainly be rated as a Catastrophe-level calamity.

“…”

Liu Yizhen stared in shock, then let out a long breath, “No wonder you suspect these are the same ghost case.”

“Not only that, the Ghost Carriage has entered the Liu ancestral hall.”

She said this quietly.