Chapter Eleven: Arranging the Funeral

Chapter Eleven

“Brother, do you think Zhao Fusheng is pretending to be ignorant? Or has she truly gone mad?”

Within the Demon Suppression Bureau of Wanan County, no matter how much Fan Wujiu pondered, he could not fathom why Zhao Fusheng would suddenly utter such crazed, delirious words.

“She only managed to command a ghost by sheer luck. Before this, she didn’t even know what a ghost was. How could she suddenly come up with the idea of exorcising spirits and solving ghostly cases?” Fan Wujiu was truly baffled.

After Zhao Fusheng finished her impassioned speech, she declared that, having narrowly escaped death, she ought to wash and change her clothes, and first take care of her parents’ funeral. She put the retrieved jade book back into the Ghost Life Box and asked the Fan brothers to stow these items away. Taking advantage of Fan Bisi’s ashen face, she slipped back to the main hall where the bodies lay, intent on paying respects to her “parents” and changing into mourning clothes, leaving the brothers standing dumbfounded in the courtyard.

“Is she truly fearless, or does she know she’s doomed and wants to drag us down with her?” Fan Wujiu still held the Ghost Life Box, and seeing the darkness on Fan Bisi’s face, called out, “Brother…”

“Enough, don’t speak of it,” Fan Bisi, in a foul mood, cut him off. “Whatever her intent, I am certain she won’t remove our soul contracts and let us leave Wanan County.”

“So what do we do?” Fan Wujiu grew anxious at his words. “The ghost mist here grows thicker by the day. If it swallows the whole county, we’ll never get out and will be trapped here awaiting death—”

“There is no way out,” Fan Bisi’s expression gradually steadied as he spoke. Things had come to this: whether Zhao Fusheng meant revenge or had other plans, she clearly had no intention of parting ways amicably.

He was strong-willed; though his initial hopes had been dashed, he quickly hid his anger. “She doesn’t even know where ghosts come from. Perhaps, having tamed a ghost, she’s grown boastful and now actually thinks she can act as an exorcist—” But Fan Bisi was still young, and his anger finally surfaced, a cold laugh escaping his lips. “How reckless.”

“To deal with ghosts is perilous in the extreme. Judging by her current state, if she truly tries to subdue spirits, she won’t last a month.” When he finished, he calmed himself once more.

“So what do we do now?” Fan Wujiu, always obedient to his brother, looked at the large wooden chest before them.

“We wait. Don’t be hasty,” a cold glint flashed in Fan Bisi’s eyes. “When she loses control, we’ll follow the original plan: find someone blessed with great fortune to lure the ghost away, resolve this hidden danger, and then find a scapegoat to help extract our soul contracts.”

He was always decisive and methodical. Hearing this, Fan Wujiu finally calmed and nodded, “Alright.”

“Put these things away,” Fan Bisi ordered, suppressing his anger.

“Alright.” Fan Wujiu was about to pack up when Fan Bisi’s thoughts shifted. “Leave her some old case files and ghost records. If Fusheng wants to handle cases, she should understand these matters.”

...

The brothers had decided to make Zhao Fusheng retreat in the face of difficulty.

Even if Zhao Fusheng hadn’t overheard their plotting, she could guess Fan Bisi’s intent, but she had no time to ponder it now.

Her clothes were torn by the ghost’s strike, her chest slashed and bloody, so she could not wear them any longer.

Drawing on Zhao Fusheng’s memories, she returned to the rear side chamber where she found the original owner’s travel bundle. Inside were two sets of new clothes, gifts from the Fan brothers when they first devised their story. The former Zhao Fusheng had been reluctant to wear them and, having died at the hands of the vengeful ghost, never had the chance.

After a simple wash, she returned to the main hall.

The courtyard of the Demon Suppression Bureau was empty. The doors stood open, with two broken human skin lanterns still hanging outside, the wind howling through and making the paper mourning characters flutter and moan.

Since the haunting began, the area had been deserted; no one dared enter the haunted office.

This suited her; the peace allowed her to think undisturbed.

Her parents’ bodies lay in the main hall. She fetched a cushion and knelt before them.

“Though Zhao Fusheng and I are not from the same world, we share a name. It is fate.”

She still didn’t know why she had been reborn in Zhao Fusheng’s body, but having gained this new life, she intended to cherish it.

“I came too late and could not save you. But since I now inhabit Zhao Fusheng’s body, I’ll fulfill her duties—see you properly buried, and if given the chance, I’ll find a way to kill the Fan brothers and avenge you.” She thought this silently, then kowtowed three times.

This done, she sat back and began to consider her circumstances and the clues her rebirth had provided.

The known facts were these:

She was in a dynasty called Great Han, which was plagued by ghosts and monsters, so much so that Demon Suppression Bureaus had been established throughout. The bureau in Wanan County, to which Zhao Fusheng belonged, was under siege by ghost mist, and the court had all but abandoned the county.

She weighed her current situation: On the bright side, she had died unexpectedly in her rented room but had been reborn; the downside was that the body she now inhabited was a ghost slave, bound by a soul contract and haunted by a vengeful ghost.

This ghost was of the Sha level.

Though she didn’t know the hierarchy of spirits, and Fan Bisi had denied it when asked, the Divine Register had already given a hint. After much thought, Zhao Fusheng decided to trust the register.

A Sha-level ghost was on par with the one controlled by Jia Yi, official exorcist of the court...

She sighed deeply.

No matter how she looked at it, death seemed inevitable.

According to Fan Bisi, her fate would be no different from the original Zhao Fusheng—only a matter of time.

But heaven always leaves a way. With her rebirth, she had inexplicably obtained the Divine Register of Hell.

According to it, as long as she completed its tasks, she still had a sliver of hope.

The register demanded that she fulfill the duties of a bureau chief: exorcise ghosts, protect the people, and earn merit.

When she attained enough merit, she could unlock a divine post and the cycle of reincarnation, sending the ghost away—though the soul contract’s restrictions would have to be dealt with later.

She did not know the origin of the register, but if Fan Bisi’s words were true, it was her only way out, and she would seize it.

Having made up her mind, Zhao Fusheng took stock of her resources.

The original Zhao Fusheng had been a penniless country girl.

Now, with her parents dead, she was alone.

She held the office of bureau chief, but the local bureau was all but wiped out, leaving only the Fan brothers, whom she barely knew. They wanted to leave and would not follow her orders willingly.

Fortunately, Fan Bisi, desperate for her help, had revealed a key fact: she controlled the soul contracts, so the brothers were still bound to her and could not leave.

She also had a ghost—though using its power might hasten her death. Still, when push came to shove, she might have to call upon its abilities.

But first, she needed to learn how to use them.

The brothers had said that the soul contract, written in ghost script, could also resist the ghost’s power—it must be kept close at all times.

...

Used to planning before action, she laid out her to-do list and contingency plans. By the time she finished, quite some time had passed, and the brothers returned.

Seeing her kneeling in the hall, both their faces darkened.

“You’ve come back just in time,” Zhao Fusheng stood up quickly.

“My parents are dead. Their bodies cannot remain here. Find Old Zhang from the coffin shop and have him bring two coffins so I can bury them properly.”

This was her first encounter with a world of vengeful spirits; she knew nothing of their origins. Influenced by old tales, she feared that if her parents did not rest in peace, more disaster would follow.

To prevent trouble, she needed to bury them as soon as possible.

“Coffins?” Fan Wujiu looked at his brother, who shook his head.

“We have no money.”

“What?” Zhao Fusheng could hardly believe her ears. She did not expect such an answer from Fan Bisi.

“How could the Demon Suppression Bureau have no money?” she asked, eyeing the brothers with suspicion.

According to Fan Bisi, the bureau once wielded immense power. How could it be penniless?

“It’s true,” Fan Bisi said gravely. “The bureau’s income once came from the court’s salaries, tenants’ taxes, and premiums paid by the wealthy and officials. But these past two years, Wanan County has been in turmoil. Those who could leave have long since gone. The ones left are those who have nowhere else to go.”

Since the ghost mist arose, the court had abandoned the county—it was now self-sufficient.

“After the vengeful ghost broke loose, you saw the chaos. The tax collectors all fled long ago.” He paused, then changed his tone. “Honestly, this bureau is an empty shell. We should all go our separate ways. Fusheng, be merciful, release us, and in return—even if we have to swallow our pride—we’ll see to your parents’ funerals.”

Zhao Fusheng laughed.

She heard the hidden meaning. On the surface, the bureau might truly be broke, but she was sure the Fan brothers had private savings. Their refusal was a deliberate attempt to trouble her and force her to give up.

But with a vengeful ghost haunting her, her only hope was to rely on the Divine Register and send the spirit away. To do that, she had to remain at the bureau and earn merit.

Unless the register proved false, she would not leave.

She saw through Fan Bisi’s ploy but did not confront him—she was new here and still unsure of their true nature. Though she “controlled” a vengeful ghost, she knew nothing of its powers. More importantly, once she unleashed those powers, her own death might be near.

Unless she had no other choice, she would not force the brothers’ hand.

Fan Bisi, sensing this, spoke with calculated restraint.

Zhao Fusheng took a deep breath. “I’ve said it: I’ve decided to stay at the bureau. I cannot leave.”

Her words made the brothers’ faces darken further.

Fan Bisi grinned. “Then I’m sorry, Fusheng, but we truly have no money for a funeral.”

The Zhao family’s deaths lay at their feet, and Fan Bisi’s expression stoked the anger in Zhao Fusheng’s heart.

“Does the bureau have no reserves?” she pressed.

“You don’t understand us,” Fan Bisi replied coldly. “We live day by day. Even if we made it to Baozhi County, we might not survive another year or two.”

The bureau’s people earned fast and spent faster. “No one knows if they’ll live to see tomorrow, so who would save for someone else?” He looked at her as if mocking her naivety.