Chapter 133: Departing for the Manor

The ghost money was wrapped in a pitch-black, viscous ghostly drool that could never be wiped clean, emanating a heavy, sinister aura. Yet, after Zhang Chuanshi had held it for only a short while, this immensely yin-filled, malevolent object had actually taken on a faint trace of warmth.

Zhao Fusheng confirmed the ghost money was intact, then closed her palm. The shadows of hell silently engulfed her hand, swallowing the coin whole.

Zhang Chuanshi looked pained. "Sigh, that money—"

"It’s just one coin, Old Zhang," Fan Bisi urged him, but Zhang Chuanshi kept his eyes fixed on Zhao Fusheng’s hand.

"It’s not about the money—" That was currency even ghosts coveted. Furthermore, Zhao Fusheng had implied that this ghost money could purchase a human life from a malevolent spirit; that alone made it worth a hundred times its weight.

Zhang Chuanshi felt both regretful and pained, but he dared not argue with Zhao Fusheng. Fan Bisi’s attempt to console him only made it worse, stirring up fresh grievances and old grudges. "Fan, did I offend you? You’ve tripped me up several times today!"

Before Fan Bisi could respond, Zhao Fusheng cut their bickering short. "Enough. We’ll discuss this when we get back."

The ghost domain was dissipating. The suffocating black mist that had blotted out the sun began to lift, and the sky gradually brightened. Sight returned, revealing the surroundings. Zhao Fusheng’s gaze fell upon the pile of corpses near the sealed stone pillar, her eyes filled with a touch of heartache.

"These are the common folk of Wan'an County."

This incident had claimed the lives of several civilians, causing her merit points to be deducted by five hundred. Moreover, following the death of Zhao Qiming, the Demon Suppression Bureau had remained vacant for a time. When the ghost incident erupted, most of the county’s residents had already fled; those who remained were the ones with nowhere else to go. With so many houses already standing empty and now more lives lost, Zhao Fusheng couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow.

"Once we return, Magistrate Pang, compile a roster. Remove the deceased from the household registers and have the county yamen cover the burial expenses."

Magistrate Pang froze upon hearing this. As they began to discuss the aftermath, the three men quickly shook off their terror. The magistrate clutched his chest, a look of distress on his face. "The county yamen to cover the costs..."

"Is there a problem?" Zhao Fusheng tilted her head to look at him.

Magistrate Pang looked embarrassed. "My Lady, the truth is, the Wan'an County yamen has no money left."

"No money?" Zhao Fusheng was surprised and turned to look at Zhang Chuanshi. "Why does everyone keep saying they have no money?"

Her words reminded Fan Bisi and Zhang Chuanshi of the situation a month ago, when the Zhao couple passed away and there was no money for the funeral. At that time, both men had harbored ulterior motives, and hearing her bring up the past made them feel both awkward and guilty.

Magistrate Pang didn't dare to speak, only looking toward Fan Bisi.

Fan Bisi braced himself and explained, "My Lady, there is a general rule in local prefectures: aside from the tax revenue that must be sent to the imperial court, the remaining silver in the treasury is primarily allocated for the expenses of the local Demon Suppression Bureau."

"I see," Zhao Fusheng nodded. She had visited Baozhi County and had gained some understanding of these matters. "But after I took control of the Demon Suppression Bureau, I did not empty out the yamen’s coffers."

"You did not, my Lady—" Magistrate Pang said, glancing at Fan Bisi again. "But the previous Commander..."

He trailed off, and Zhao Fusheng understood his meaning.

Fan Bisi sighed. "There has always been a rule in the Demon Suppression Bureau: spend all the money while you’re alive, and never leave a single scrap for your successor."

When Zhao Qiming arrived in Wan'an County, he had inherited an empty shell. Before his predecessor died, he had nearly gutted the Wan'an Demon Suppression Bureau. Aside from the taxes owed to the imperial court, the yamen had no funds to draw upon.

"When Brother Qiming took office, he also intended not to touch the yamen's money."

But as Zhao Qiming spent more time binding ghosts, he sensed his own death approaching, and his temperament began to change drastically. He had originally been an upright and forthright man, but as the end drew near, he became paranoid, suspicious, and deeply resentful, believing that since everyone was risking their lives for the court, he deserved the money just as much as anyone else. Therefore, before his death, Zhao Qiming, like his predecessor, had cleaned out the Wan'an County yamen.

"That silver was sent to the Imperial Capital; he still had relatives there..."

Magistrate Pang held no grudge about this. Commanders dealt with ghosts; their power came quickly, but so did their deaths. The imperial court was very generous regarding the financial expenditures of the local Commanders and had no precedent for reprimanding them over money. Even if one were to report it to the Emperor, it would likely be dismissed.

"After that, ghost incidents occurred frequently in Wan'an, and we didn't dare to collect taxes," Magistrate Pang explained. "After you took charge of the Demon Suppression Bureau, things improved significantly. We have been collecting taxes, but they are mostly in the form of linen and grain; we haven't converted them into silver yet."

Combined with the fact that trade had been restricted by the ghost mist, the government had no cash on hand.

Zhao Fusheng understood the situation and sighed. "Since that is the case, let the Demon Suppression Bureau pay for it first. Old Zhang, calculate the cost of the coffins, and record the expenses in the ledger."

After she finished, she warned Zhang Chuanshi, "Do not overcharge."

"That goes without saying—" Zhang Chuanshi froze, then quickly shook his head.

He hesitated for a moment, looking at the crisscrossing corpses on the ground. "But my Lady, these are just lowly peasants. Do they really need to be buried in coffins? In my opinion, wrapping them in straw mats and digging a hole would suffice..."

"What is a 'lowly peasant,' and what is a 'good citizen'?" Zhao Fusheng smiled faintly and asked him.

She didn't appear angry, and Zhang Chuanshi relaxed, emboldened enough to glance at the corpses again. Most of them were dressed in rags, some even barefoot; they didn't look like they were from well-off families.

"They—"

"They are all people who pay taxes and tribute to the Great Han Dynasty, just the same," Zhao Fusheng said softly.

Her words caused Magistrate Pang to look up, and Fan Bisi bit his lip, stealing a glance at her. For some reason, Zhang Chuanshi felt that Zhao Fusheng’s mood had suddenly turned sour. He remembered that before she became a ghost binder, Zhao Fusheng had also come from a poor family; in many people's eyes, the Zhao family would have been considered 'lowly peasants.'

Realizing he had offended her, Zhang Chuanshi felt a wave of regret for his loose tongue. As he racked his brain for a way to make amends, Zhao Fusheng simply shook her head.

"Let’s go."

"…Yes."

The sky had brightened, and the shadows that had blanketed Wan'an County for two days and two nights had faded. Without the influence of the ghost domain, both Fan Bisi and Magistrate Pang recognized the way back. As they followed the path they had come, they could see the messy, bloody footprints left behind. Along the road lay corpses that had collapsed halfway through their flight, making the road to the mausoleum appear exceptionally eerie and blood-stained.

After they had walked for about half a quarter of an hour, Zhang Chuanshi’s eyes lit up. "My Lady, our carriage!"

When the ghost incident broke out, the driver had died suddenly, and they had been forced to abandon the vehicle. Because of the urgency, they hadn't had time to secure the horses. Zhang Chuanshi had been mentally prepared to walk back from the west side of the city, so seeing the carriage still there brought him great joy. "We don't have to walk back!"

Magistrate Pang was also relieved. The journey had been terrifying and exhausting, and as an elderly scholar, walking back from the west side of the city would have been a struggle.

Fan Bisi quickly went forward to hold the horses. Zhao Fusheng glanced at the pale-faced Magistrate Pang and signaled for him to board first. He didn't decline and climbed into the carriage.

When Zhao Fusheng moved to board, Fan Bisi wanted to assist her, but Zhang Chuanshi pushed him aside. He supported Zhao Fusheng’s arm and whispered, "My Lady, I apologize—"

His voice was very soft. Aside from Zhao Fusheng, who was about to board, neither Magistrate Pang inside nor Fan Bisi nearby heard clearly; they only caught a vague murmur.

Zhao Fusheng paused. With one foot still in the air, she turned to look at Zhang Chuanshi. The old man’s uninjured side of his face showed a hint of nervousness; he looked uneasy, and under her gaze, his eyes flickered.

His apology might not have been a genuine change of heart. Perhaps he was only afraid she would take it to heart, or perhaps he feared offending her and being targeted later. As she looked at him, he seemed even more tense and uncomfortable. Just as he was about to say something else, Zhao Fusheng smiled.

"It’s alright."

She stepped into the carriage. Zhang Chuanshi stood frozen, still maintaining the gesture of helping her. Fan Bisi nudged him. "Old Zhang, what are you doing? Are you getting in? If not, I’m going."

Zhang Chuanshi finally snapped out of it. Resisting the strange feeling in his heart, he deliberately raised his voice to mask his awkwardness. "Get in then! The driver is dead, someone has to drive the carriage—" He stepped aside.

Fan Bisi frowned. "Why are you shouting so loud?"

He climbed into the carriage. Zhang Chuanshi looked at the dried bloodstains left on the driver's seat, his face full of disdain. He cursed, "This spot is unlucky, so much blood. Find something, I need to wipe it off, how am I supposed to sit otherwise—"

The noise of their bickering seemed to sweep away the gloom brought by the ghost incident at the mausoleum. Zhang Chuanshi cleaned the seat and steered the horses, the group heading back in the direction of the Demon Suppression Bureau.

...

Back at the Demon Suppression Bureau, the gentry and officials left within the yamen were trembling with fear as they watched the sky darken outside. During the night, that familiar chiseling sound rang out once more.

As the sound echoed, the throbbing in the chest of the local squire, Yu Weide, intensified. His complexion turned from white to a deathly green, giving him the appearance of a corpse, yet for some reason, he managed to cling to life.

Time passed slowly. Just as the group was gripped by utter terror under the sound of the chiseling, it suddenly ceased. Not long after, the sky, which had darkened prematurely, began to brighten once more.

The black mist dissipated, and the gloom that had weighed upon everyone’s hearts began to vanish along with the dissolution of the ghost domain.

"Was the ghost case solved?" someone asked tentatively.

The candle flames in the room, which had been affected by the ghost domain, grew larger again—though in truth, there was no need for lamps now; everyone realized that at some point, the sky outside had turned a pale blue.

"It’s dawn—" a wealthy merchant muttered.

The others snapped to attention. "It’s dawn?"

"It’s not dawn! It’s still afternoon; the sky never turned black," someone replied immediately. "It must be that the ghost case has been solved and the ghost domain has dispersed, so the sky has cleared up."

This response brought a massive wave of relief to everyone whose nerves had been stretched to the breaking point. Smiles appeared on their faces.

"That must be it."

"How long has Magistrate Zhao been gone?" someone suddenly asked amidst the joy.

"At most, two hours—"

Although Zhao Fusheng had not yet returned and the news of the case being solved had not reached the Bureau, the lifting of the ghost domain was the best possible sign. A ghost domain that had enveloped nearly the entire Wan'an County had been broken in such a short time—something that none of the previous Commanders of the Wan'an Demon Suppression Bureau had been able to achieve!

"My Lady is truly like a heavenly god descended to earth!"

"Magistrate Zhao is the bane of malevolent spirits—"

"Wan'an County is truly blessed to have Magistrate Zhao."

The crowd praised her, many weeping with joy. In the midst of the celebration, someone shouted, "Master Yu has awakened!"

This announcement brought even more joy. They quickly called for the servants of the Bureau to bring warm water and helped Yu Weide, who had been lying on the floor, to sit up.

...

By the time Zhang Chuanshi drove the carriage back, the sky was almost completely bright. Everyone had gathered in front of the main gate, discussing the ghost mist that had shrouded the county, filled with the relief of survivors. Even Yu Weide, leaning on a cane, insisted on waiting for Zhao Fusheng at the gate with the help of others.

When the carriage pulled up, the crowd surged forward. Fan Wujiu pushed to the front, and seeing his brother return safely, he let out a long sigh of relief. Magistrate Pang, Fan Bisi, and Zhang Chuanshi were all there; the four who had left had all returned together.

"My Lady—"

The seat where Zhang Chuanshi had been sitting still bore large patches of blood; even though it had been wiped, the danger of the situation was still visible.

"The seal at the ghost mausoleum was loosened, and a malevolent spirit was revived. It almost became a disaster," Zhao Fusheng said calmly as she looked at the gathering crowd.

Upon hearing that the seal had been loosened, the joy on their faces dimmed. Just as they were about to speak, Zhao Fusheng added, "However, I have repaired the seal, and the spirit has been suppressed. It will not cause any trouble for at least a year or two."

Her words were like a shot of adrenaline, filling everyone with a mix of surprise and delight. No one doubted her for a moment. The succession of solved ghost cases had proven her strength, and the people of Wan'an County held absolute faith in her.

Only Fan Wujiu, hearing that she had repaired the seal, instinctively looked at his brother.

Fan Bisi explained, "My Lady went to Baozhi County this time and subdued her own parents—"

Fan Wujiu’s pupils constricted; he immediately understood the implication.

"The spirits of the Zhao couple have reached the 'Calamity' level. The seal the Lady applied is far superior to the one used by General Zhu, the silver-level commander, last year," Fan Bisi said loudly. "With a Calamity-level ghost seal, ordinary malevolent spirits will be thoroughly suppressed. Everyone won't have to worry about the ghost mausoleum for a very long time—"

Furthermore, as long as Zhao Fusheng remained in Wan'an County, the seal could be reinforced at any time. An event like the one at the ghost mausoleum would not happen again to threaten their lives.

"Thank you, my Lady!"

"The Lady saved my life—"

(Sigh, I feel like this transition chapter didn't flow very well; I kept editing and am still not quite satisfied. I seem to have fallen into a state of resisting work lately; I need to adjust slowly.)