Chapter Twenty: The Vengeful Spirit Returns

Chapter Twenty

No one knew how much time had passed when Fan Bishou’s sudden shout from outside broke Zhao Fusheng’s deep thoughts.

“Fusheng, Fusheng?”

“I’m coming,” Zhao Fusheng replied after collecting herself and stepped out from the side chamber.

Fan Bishou, hearing her voice from the adjacent room and then seeing her emerge from the chamber where they stored archives and case files, was first stunned, then his mouth twitched with a look of surprise.

“You’re quite bold, aren’t you? Not afraid at all.”

Someone had died in that room. Though it had been months, the traces of a person killed by a ghost remained—bloodstains and scratch marks left untouched. Most people would find such a place ominous and avoid it, but she, fearless, ventured right inside. When Fan Bishou directed her there, he’d thought she would be unsettled as soon as she opened the door. Instead, she seemed entirely at ease, as if she’d spent plenty of time in the chamber.

“Isn’t the thing most to be feared right now… me?” Zhao Fusheng smiled faintly.

The vengeful ghost that had caused the disaster at the Demon Subduing Office now resided in her. Wherever she went was the most dangerous place; what was there to fear elsewhere by comparison?

Her composed demeanor left Fan Bishou momentarily speechless. After a glance at his brother Fan Wujiu, he said, “Old Zhang has finished preparing the coffins. When do you want to bury your parents?”

Zhao Fusheng steadied herself and replied, “The sooner, the better. I worry that if we delay, something might happen and another ghost case will arise.”

“It’s not that easy to breed an awakened ghost. In these times, human lives are as insignificant as grass; countless people die unjustly or violently, and even more perish at the hands of vengeful spirits. If everyone turned into ghosts, this world would already be hell on earth. How could the living survive?” Fan Bishou dismissed her concern. “Besides, though people have souls, after death what’s left is a chaotic remnant, barely enough to be called a spirit, much less a ghost.”

“In any case, I want my parents buried as soon as possible. Only then will I consider what to do next. As for the burial site…” Zhao Fusheng shook her head, unwilling to delay the funeral.

Unable to dissuade her, the Fan brothers relented. Fan Wujiu said, “Wan’an County is wide and sparsely populated. As long as you don’t insist on a geomantic treasure, it won’t be hard to find an empty plot with no owner.”

“That’s good,” Zhao Fusheng sighed in relief, then added, “I don’t need a special site, but the funeral must have all the proper things—incense, paper money, paper effigies, and houses. Two sets of everything…”

“But—” Fan Bishou began, only for Zhao Fusheng to interrupt.

“Put it on credit if you must. If the shopkeeper refuses, I’ll talk to him myself.”

Fan Bishou was left speechless.

After Old Zhang’s experience at the coffin shop, the incense and paper shopkeeper probably wouldn’t dare refuse her credit.

Since her return from death, Zhao Fusheng’s personality had changed greatly, and Fan Bishou felt a subtle pressure. At this moment, he realized the girl before him was no longer the same, no longer someone he and his brother could manipulate at will. Their schemes had brought disaster upon her, but perhaps also a chance that would change her life.

“He should be more than willing,” Fan Bishou said. Then, in a lowered voice, “Fusheng, my brother and I were indeed unkind before, but we had no choice. After your parents’ funeral, consider what I said earlier.”

Zhao Fusheng didn’t answer. With a glance at Fan Wujiu, Fan Bishou left the Demon Subduing Office to arrange the funeral supplies.

Fearing the Zhao couple’s spirits might awaken, Zhao Fusheng dared not let the corpses remain in the office a moment longer than necessary.

By afternoon, all chores were handled. Somehow, the Fan brothers had found several gaunt men to help at the office. These men carried yokes and ropes, their eyes full of apprehension and unease. When they glanced at Zhao Fusheng, they trembled and quickly looked away, as if seeing a ghost.

“Put the bodies in the coffins. Be careful—carry them out of the city first,” Fan Bishou instructed. The others hastily agreed.

The Zhao couple had died in a ghost incident, surely in a terrible state, but these men were accustomed to corpses and weren’t too afraid. They took their places at the heads, feet, and sides; some lifted the legs, others gripped the arms, and in unison called out, “Lift—”

At once, Fan Wujiu frowned and barked, “Just the bodies! Don’t take the door plank!”

The door plank was just a temporary bier. It wasn’t meant to be lifted with the corpse into the coffin.

His shout threw everyone into confusion.

“Huh?”

“What’s going on?”

“Who’s holding the plank?”

“No one…”

They all spoke at once, then replaced the bodies where they’d been. The plank, bearing the corpses, landed back on the wooden bench with a heavy clang.

“Perhaps the blood dried after death, causing the bodies to stick to the plank,” Fan Bishou said, his face twitching. “Try again.”

The others quickly agreed, and, just in case, two of them specifically pressed down on the plank to prevent it from sticking to the corpses.

“Lift again—”

They strained together, but something uncanny occurred. Even with two men holding down the plank, the other four could not separate the bodies from it.

“This… this is uncanny…” someone muttered.

In one night, the corpses seemed fused to the plank. Even with six men, they could not separate them.

“I… I can’t…” One man wanted to back out, but seeing the grim faces of the Fan brothers and Zhao Fusheng’s dark expression, he dared not speak further.

“Try again,” Zhao Fusheng said, anxiety mounting.

Her heart pounded violently from nerves. She involuntarily clenched her cold hands, forcing herself to remain calm.

“All right…” The men sounded close to tears, but, shivering, tried once more. Still, with all their effort, they couldn’t separate the plank from the bodies.

“Please, Brother Fan, you and your brother help as well,” Zhao Fusheng said hoarsely.

“I—” Fan Wujiu began to shake, ready to refuse, only for Zhao Fusheng to interject, “Brother Fan, you yourself said vengeful ghosts don’t awaken so easily, and that ghosts have their own domains—they can’t coexist. If two ghosts appeared together, they’d clash, maybe even check each other. Isn’t that right?”

Fan Bishou was rendered speechless; these were his own words, impossible to refute.

“In theory, yes, but—”

“No buts. Try again,” Zhao Fusheng cut him off, signaling for the brothers to help.

“There can be no ‘but’,” she added. “Don’t worry. I’m here.”

She wasn’t exactly reliable, but as a ghost tamer, the vengeful ghost she hosted was already awakened, not something a newborn spirit could rival.

Fan Bishou, thinking this over, relaxed a little. Indeed, within a single domain, two ghosts shouldn’t coexist—a phenomenon never heard of in the Han Dynasty. But the Zhao couple’s bodies, bizarrely fused to the plank, were another matter.

Still, Zhao Fusheng’s cold gaze, perhaps empowered by her control over the ghost, sent a chill through Fan Bishou.

“Maybe it’s just coincidence—” he tried to encourage himself, then steeled his resolve.

“All right, I’ll try.”

He called his brother, and the two awkwardly took their places at either side, each gripping a leg through the shroud.

Perhaps the strange events had left Fan Bishou scarred; as his hand touched the corpse’s ankle through the cloth, the first sensation was a chilling heaviness.

Icy cold crept up his spine, bringing goosebumps to his skin.

A sinister malice seeped from the body into his flesh, as though it instantly drained half the warmth from his body.

“Ah!” Though usually steadier than his brother, Fan Bishou was thoroughly shaken. He jerked his hand away, gasping, when suddenly the others cried out as well:

“Ah!!”

“There’s a ghost! A ghost!” one man shouted, stumbling back in terror.

The others followed his gaze and also screamed.

Zhao Fusheng’s heart sank. She shoved the terrified man to the ground and demanded, “I want to see—where is the ghost?”

She stepped forward and gazed at the bier.

The plank and corpses had fallen back onto the bench, with everyone else retreating as far as they could.

On the shroud, stained with dark brown blood, fresh blood began to seep from the faces and chests, spreading across the dried stains as though to fill them anew.

The Zhao couple had been dead for some time, the corpses laid out overnight—such a phenomenon was truly uncanny.

With her heightened sensitivity as a ghost tamer, Zhao Fusheng’s hair stood on end.

Born in an era of peace, she had never truly seen a ghost. Now, faced with this scene, her mind went blank and she stood paralyzed.

The others trembled, wailing in terror.

After a moment, Zhao Fusheng bit her tongue hard, the pain snapping her back to her senses.

“I’m here—” she said, though her scalp tingled with fear. The first taste of the supernatural’s horror made her body almost unresponsive. But her reason returned, slowly suppressing her terror.

The most fearsome ghost was already within her; if she didn’t act, the Demon Subduing Office would soon face disaster again.

“The greatest vengeful spirit is inside me; I can’t believe there’s anything else here more terrifying than what I carry!”

With those words, she summoned her courage, strode forward, shoved aside the petrified Fan Wujiu, and seized one of the corpses by the leg.

The moment she touched the body, it shuddered.

“Ah!!!”

The others, seeing this, recoiled in renewed terror.

Outside, dark clouds had gathered, and a faint gray mist crept through the Demon Subduing Office.

The gray fog dimmed the light and restricted their vision. The Fan brothers exchanged despairing glances, one phrase echoing in their minds: Ghost Domain.

A corpse, dead but a short time, had already created a domain upon awakening. The Zhao couple’s doom was absolute.

Zhao Fusheng didn’t notice the changes around her. As she grasped the corpse, a powerful resistance surged through its flesh. Cold, malice, and intense resentment poured through her palm, filling her senses.

Under the shroud, the dead opened their eyes and stared coldly at her.

The ghost had not yet acted when, in the next instant, another dormant spirit was startled awake.

A shadow leapt from beneath her feet, coalescing into a frigid wraith.

The already deadly ghost rose, climbed her leg, coiled about her waist and back, and perched on her shoulder.

The vengeful spirit clung to her, inseparable.

“Fierce ghost activated. Blessing or doom, the bargain is struck,” intoned the Deification List within her mind.

“Borrowing the ghost’s power will cost one-third of your life force.”

At the same time, the ghost’s strength flooded Zhao Fusheng’s body. She felt as if plunged into an ice cellar, but now she had the power to confront the awakened spirit head-on.