Chapter Thirty-Four: The Headless Ghost Corpse

Chapter Thirty-Four

Zhao Fusheng’s eyes widened abruptly.

“How can those two possess such strength? Or did they use blades?”

But as soon as the words escaped her lips, she realized something was amiss.

This world was plagued by malevolent spirits, and there had indeed been disturbances by such entities at Liu Huacheng’s birthday banquet. According to Zhao Fusheng’s memories, iron implements were strictly controlled at this time; unless sanctioned by the authorities, the private sale of daggers, swords, and other sharp objects was illegal—punishable by exile at best, death at worst.

Ordinary people had very few iron tools. The kitchen knives, sickles, and hoes at home were precious heirlooms, treasured and never carried casually—let alone brought to a banquet hosted by the Liu family.

If no blades were involved, then surely some ghost was at play.

Her heart tightened, and she asked again, “Was it the work of a vengeful spirit?”

This time, she had guessed correctly.

Liu Wu’s face turned as pale as paper, and he nodded. “Yes!”

The two men had fought, overturning a table and knocking off the head of a bystander. At first, everyone thought a murder had occurred, not realizing a ghost was involved.

At that time, Wan’an County had not yet been troubled by ghostly mists, and the sitting Magistrate of the Demon Subjugation Office was Su Long, a man of considerable ability and upright character, who had handled several notorious supernatural cases and was widely respected.

Under his governance, the county was peaceful, and the people had little fear of the supernatural.

“After the incident, my grandfather was furious and drew his blade, intending to apprehend the two ruffians. But then—then—” At this crucial moment, Liu Wu faltered once more, fear creeping back into his eyes. Zhao Fusheng’s face darkened, and she barked, “Then what? Out with it! Stop stammering!”

Her sternness worked better than comfort. The Demon Subjugation Office was formidable, and Liu Wu, startled, hurried on:

“Then the headless corpse did not fall, but rose from the bench and walked toward the two fighting men.”

His expression was blank with horror.

“My grandfather watched as the headless corpse approached the two men, stretched out its arms—” At this, a spasm flitted across his cheek. “And like picking a melon, it plucked the head off one of them and placed it upon its own neck.”

A chill swept through Zhao Fusheng.

A headless ghost! The name leaped to her mind, matching perfectly with the supernatural entity described in the case files—and with the details Liu Wu now recounted.

He fell silent, but she could almost imagine the scene: at a grand birthday feast, a corpse suddenly rises, headless, and affixes a living person’s head to its own neck. The terror and chaos such a sight would unleash at the banquet was unimaginable.

Still, Liu Wu’s account filled many of the gaps in her knowledge about the Liu family’s ghost. Zhao Fusheng felt both anxious and faintly relieved.

“After that, the banquet descended into chaos. People screamed in terror, and my grandfather and the others were badly frightened. Only then did everyone realize a ghost was haunting the Liu household.”

Once a supernatural calamity broke out, ordinary people were powerless. The matter would be handed over to the Demon Subjugation Office.

“My grandfather and the others immediately decided to split up—one group to inform the Liu family, the other to notify the Demon Subjugation Office for help.” But to their surprise, when Liu Wu’s grandfather met Liu Huacheng, the latter did not seem particularly shocked.

“His first reaction was to notify the Demon Subjugation Office.”

Liu Huacheng had been prepared for this.

From Liu Wu’s account, Zhao Fusheng could piece together the events and link them with Paper Zhang’s words. Liu Huacheng’s fall from office had indeed been due to a mishap during his tenure—he had brought a mutilated ghost’s corpse back to the family estate. Somehow, he suppressed the entity for a time, but it eventually revived and wreaked havoc at his birthday feast.

“At that time, the banquet was set up near the Liu clan ancestral hall, in what is now Beggar’s Lane—though it wasn’t called that back then.”

“Wenchang Road?” Zhao Fusheng’s heart skipped a beat.

Liu Wu nodded eagerly. “Yes, yes, it was called Wenchang Road. It was only later renamed Beggar’s Lane.”

She fixed him with a stern look. “Are you certain?”

“Absolutely! Absolutely.” Though he didn’t know why she was so concerned with this detail, he dared not neglect it and answered promptly. “Wenchang Road has its history. The Liu family patriarch once held a high court position. He was clever from a young age and passed the imperial exams, as if blessed by the god of literature—hence the road’s name.”

He then offered a flattering remark: “These days, not many in Wan’an County remember the old name. Your knowledge is truly impressive, my lord. Clearly, you are devoted to seeking justice for the people.”

Zhao Fusheng ignored his attempts at flattery. Having confirmed that Wenchang Road was the former name of Beggar’s Lane, she felt a weight lift from her shoulders.

The records stated that the Liu family’s haunting had occurred on Wenchang Road. Now, forty years later, Beggar’s Lane was troubled once more.

She had sought out Paper Zhang, hoping to glean information. When he confidently asserted that the two ghost cases were in fact one and the same, she had harbored doubts. After all, both incidents were tied to the Liu family, but the old case was recorded as happening on Wenchang Road, and the current one around the Confucius Temple’s Beggar’s Lane—two entirely different names. There might have been some strange twist.

But now, Liu Wu’s account matched the records, dissolving her doubts and granting her some peace.

“My lord, is there something wrong with Wenchang Road?” Liu Wu, sensing her seriousness, asked timidly.

“It’s nothing. Continue.”

Yet Zhao Fusheng did not place absolute trust in him.

She had gone to the county office for help. The magistrate, seemingly acting on a whim, assigned her a carriage driver—who, by coincidence, was related to Liu Huacheng of the forty-year-old ghost case, and whose grandfather had been a witness to the events.

Zhao Fusheng felt uneasy. Wasn’t this all too coincidental?

She knew she was perhaps overly suspicious, but in this unfamiliar era, she had no one reliable at her side.

Since her resurrection, everyone around her—whether the Fan brothers, Zhang Chuanshi, or Paper Zhang—had ulterior motives. If she weren’t sufficiently wary, she might not even know how she died a second time.

Liu Wu, oblivious to her thoughts, answered her prompt: “Yes.”

After the ghost appeared, the people panicked and fled in terror.

But since the calamity had already begun, a ghostly domain formed over the area around old Wenchang Road, trapping everyone inside. There was no escape.

“In their panic, people ran about wildly, causing more deaths. Skulls littered the Liu estate inside and out.”

Zhao Fusheng imagined the scene: a celebration turned into a mass haunting, the survivors traumatized beyond measure.

Liu Wu paused, then continued, “But my grandfather said that Master Liu had a way. He managed to escape the estate and notify the Demon Subjugation Office, whose men soon took control.”

At this, Zhao Fusheng’s eyes sharpened. “How did your grandfather survive?”

Liu Wu brightened. “He too thought he was doomed, but Magistrate Su Long was truly formidable. Upon arrival, he commanded everyone to stay put and gathered all survivors together.”

This surprised Zhao Fusheng. Ordinarily, gathering people would make them easier targets. If the ghost entered the crowd, wouldn’t it slaughter many at once?

“Master Su said this vengeful spirit was seeking a head.”

Initially, people realized a haunting was afoot when two men fought over a coin and accidentally knocked off the head the ghost had taken, prompting it to resume its search and kill anew.

Zhao Fusheng nodded thoughtfully. “So, the ghost’s main purpose was to find a head—killing was just a side effect.”

“My lord, what do you mean?” Liu Wu’s mind was slow to catch on. He asked instinctively, then worried that Zhao Fusheng might think he was questioning her and become angry, his face filling with dread.

But to his surprise, Zhao Fusheng was not offended. “You may not understand as I said it. Let me put it differently.”

She patiently explained, “From your account, the ghost had a body but no head. Its main feature was seeking a head—it took people’s heads and affixed them to itself. Those who lost their heads died.”

“Yes…” Liu Wu nodded, still half-understanding, but trusting her words.

Zhao Fusheng smiled and continued, “Suppose the ghost had a head but no hands, or perhaps had hands and head but lacked feet, or was missing eyes, nose, or ears. It would likely seek what it had lost.”

And those who lost hands, feet, eyes, nose, or ears would not perish.

This explanation brought sudden enlightenment to Liu Wu, who exclaimed with delight, “So that’s it!”

He seemed to have uncovered a great secret. “I always thought the Demon Subjugation Office’s cases were mysterious and dangerous, but I never imagined there were such curious patterns. Lord Zhao, you are truly remarkable—even without witnessing the case forty years ago, you described it perfectly.”

Zhao Fusheng was not swayed by his deliberate praise. She merely shook her head. “I am only summarizing the pattern after the fact. It’s nothing extraordinary.”

Nevertheless, Liu Wu’s account had given her a fresh insight, clarifying the “rules of ghostly killings” that Fan Bisi had once mentioned.

“Go on,” she gestured for Liu Wu to continue.

“Yes, my lord!”

Perhaps influenced by Zhao Fusheng’s calm, Liu Wu felt a new sense of hope, his earlier gloom swept away.

“Master Su gathered everyone together and told them to sit quietly, not to move about, and especially not to touch their own or others’ necks. Don’t give the ghost an opportunity, and it might not kill at random.”

Of course, there was no reasoning with vengeful spirits.

Su Long’s words were only a calculated risk, a gambler’s hope.

Fortunately, luck was on his side—his gamble paid off.

Once people stopped moving, the deaths ceased. Liu Wu’s grandfather did not know much about what happened next, but the records from the Demon Subjugation Office matched closely: in the end, the Inspector who had accompanied Su Long perished, while Su Long, thanks to the ghostly power he commanded, barely escaped the Liu estate alive.

What followed, Zhao Fusheng already knew.

Su Long dared not return to the Liu estate, but Liu Huacheng, bold and decisive, offered half the Liu family’s accumulated fortune as a reward, persuading Su Long and Zhang Xiongwuto join forces. Only then did they re-enter the Liu estate and resolve the haunting, bringing peace to the Liu clan that has lasted ever since.

After recounting all this, Liu Wu fell silent, casting sidelong glances at Zhao Fusheng, who was lost in thought, not daring to interrupt her.

Zhao Fusheng pondered his story.

She had expected little from Fan Bisi and even less from Paper Zhang, whose words were always half-truths, hiding crucial details. As a descendant of Zhang Xiongwu, Paper Zhang likely knew more about the Liu family haunting than he let on, but he had kept it to himself.

But this was only human nature.

Their past grievances could only end in blood. From his perspective, it was only rational to speak half-truths and conceal vital information.

Yet Liu Wu’s grandfather, as a participant in the events, had filled the gaps left by the records, Fan Bisi, and Paper Zhang, giving Zhao Fusheng a deeper understanding of the ghost she would soon face.

A headless ghost, seeking a head, bringing death to those in its way.

Wenchang Road of old was now Beggar’s Lane, shrouded in a ghostly domain.

“Forty years…” Zhao Fusheng frowned, wondering what had trapped the ghost there, making it roam the same place for so long.

She now knew that the vengeful spirits of the Han dynasty were unlike those she had known.

In her previous understanding, ghosts were bound by karma, unable to reincarnate until their grudges were resolved.

But in this Han dynasty, there was no hell, no reincarnation, and ghosts seemed to lack emotion or thought, acting only on instinct.

Such entities would not linger out of obsession—unless something anchored them here, as with the ghostly disaster at the Demon Subjugation Office in Wan’an County. As long as everyone there had not perished, the ghost would never relinquish its hold.

Thus, perhaps the ghost of Beggar’s Lane also remained because its “rules” had not been fully satisfied.

But this was only Zhao Fusheng’s preliminary conjecture. Nothing was certain.

To deal with ghosts, she would have to tread with utmost care—her life depended on it.

Steadying herself, she looked up at Liu Wu. “Tell me more about why Wenchang Road was renamed.” She felt there was still a mystery to uncover.

Fan Bisi seemed helpful but was unlikely to speak the whole truth. Paper Zhang’s words were always ambiguous, never giving all away.

Her disadvantage lay in her recent resurrection—she knew nothing of this era, and her lack of information left her at the mercy of others. She could only gather as much as possible, then piece together all the clues herself, hoping to find a path to survival.

Thanks to: mkyjy, and Ai Zai Zuo Qing Xiang You, for their generous rewards.

A double-length chapter of four thousand words, as a bonus for the two supporters.

(The End of the Chapter)