Chapter 80: Recruiting a Newcomer Once More

Chapter Eighty

Once Zhao Fusheng's injuries healed, her entire demeanor brightened instantly.

Zhang Chuan Shi collapsed on the ground with a scream, pain flooding him so fiercely he writhed and rolled. "Sir, sir, spare me!" he cried.

A large chunk of flesh was torn from his cheek, leaving his formerly sly face a bloody mess. Blood gushed from the gaping wound, exposing blood-stained teeth and striated eyeballs.

Zhao Fusheng sat cross-legged, lowering her gaze to scrutinize him. Though this old man was cunning and harbored ulterior motives, he hadn’t stirred trouble on this journey to Doghead Village. To find the paper man Zhang in the future, he still had his uses.

She drew out the Soul Registry from her bosom, pressing it into Zhang Chuan Shi’s hand. "Hold tight."

Despite his agony, Zhang Chuan Shi’s instinct overpowered his thoughts; he grabbed the object as if it were an imperial edict, clutching it fiercely.

He didn't even have time to see what it was. The instant it touched his hand, it felt as though cold liquid seeped through his palm. A heavy scent of blood wafted up, and ghostly symbols crawled across his hand and cheek, chilling him to the bone.

Yet this icy sensation suppressed the pain perfectly; his screams ceased, his body trembled as he gasped for air.

The blood in his eyes faded, and once the pain settled within bearable bounds, he looked down at what Zhao Fusheng had handed him.

Upon the Soul Registry, his name "Zhang Chuan Shi" glowed blood-red, a pair of venomous eyes peering at him through the jade tome.

Startled, Zhang Chuan Shi nearly flung the registry away, but Zhao Fusheng’s warning gaze stopped him. He realized this object was preserving his life.

"The power of a vengeful ghost is needed to fight ghosts," Zhao Fusheng reminded him. "You nearly died at the hands of one. Only the Soul Registry can keep you alive until you return to the Demon Suppression Bureau. Hold this tightly."

Zhang Chuan Shi suddenly understood why his pain had eased. He nodded frantically. "Don’t worry—I won't let go, I won't let go!"

He wasn’t foolish; he recognized the registry’s usefulness. Now that his name was inscribed, he had become a backup ghost minion for Jia Yi. A vengeful ghost would never let its minion die elsewhere.

Though the ghostly power in the registry might not be strong due to distance, it was enough for temporary relief and survival. As long as he held it, he could nurse his wounds until they were no longer fatal.

Understanding this, he declared, "I'll guard it with my life. No one else gets it—not even the paper man Zhang!"

Zhao Fusheng gave him a meaningful look and then rose to her feet.

Zhang Chuan Shi hugged the registry, trailing closely behind her.

Doghead Village was still filled with screams. Some had fainted from the pain, others like Wu Shaochun rolled on the ground, tears and snot streaming.

Since entering Doghead Village on official business, this young man had assisted Zhao Fusheng diligently. He was strong and quick-witted—but unlucky enough to be born here, marked by the vengeful ghost since birth. Though not dead, he was as good as.

Wu Shaochun’s injuries were severe; without intervention, he wouldn’t survive.

Zhao Fusheng stopped before him.

Before she could speak, Zhang Chuan Shi, catching her expression, forced himself to crouch despite his pain and called out, "Hey, hey!"

Wu Shaochun was barely recognizable. His body was a bloody mess, as if most of his flesh had been stripped away. In his dying haze, he heard someone call and turned—

Half his face was peeled, revealing muscle, pale tendons, and blood vessels tangled with mud and grass. Zhang Chuan Shi recoiled in horror, crying out.

"S-sir—help—"

After a moment, recognizing Zhao Fusheng, Wu Shaochun reached out desperately for her.

Zhang Chuan Shi, hearing this, tried to kick him, but Zhao Fusheng stopped him and asked, "Wu Shaochun?"

"I—it’s me—" Wu Shaochun strained to lift himself, but was too weak; his hand merely scratched the air and fell, finally touching Zhao Fusheng’s shoe.

A long trail of blood dragged beneath his palm. Zhao Fusheng’s gaze lingered on his exposed bone, saying, "I have a way to save you. But surviving now means danger still lies ahead—you may still die."

Zhang Chuan Shi, clutching the registry, paused, seeming to guess Zhao Fusheng’s intent.

"Do you wish to join the Demon Suppression Bureau?" Zhao Fusheng asked.

Wu Shaochun’s consciousness was fading, but he heard "save" and summoned all his strength to nod fiercely.

Zhao Fusheng turned to Zhang Chuan Shi. "Let him mark the registry with his blood."

Zhang Chuan Shi complied, grabbing Wu Shaochun’s hand and pressing it to the registry.

Wu Shaochun’s fingers were dry of blood, but as they touched the registry, it seemed an invisible mouth bit down, and blood began to flow. A miniature black shadow, thick with resentment, flickered over the jade tome, finally becoming a name on the registry.

"Wu Shaochun!"

Zhang Chuan Shi had heard much about the Demon Suppression Bureau’s Soul Registry; he had even marked it himself. Yet witnessing this eerie scene, he turned his head in fright.

Once the name was branded, he tucked the book away like treasure.

"The case in Doghead Village is closed," Zhao Fusheng declared, preparing to depart.

Zhang Chuan Shi was both surprised and delighted. When his memories returned, he guessed the ghost case had ended. From the decision to investigate to their actual entry into Doghead Village, only a single night had passed.

This case was bizarre and terrifying; he hadn’t even seen the vengeful ghost but was caught in peril. His memory had been repeatedly disturbed. How did Zhao Fusheng solve it under such conditions?

"The ghost case—it's finished?" Zhang Chuan Shi asked in disbelief.

Zhao Fusheng nodded lightly.

His bloodstained nostrils flared, pupils dilated. "Really finished?"

Zhao Fusheng frowned, and Zhang Chuan Shi’s heart shrank; his voice softened, "What about the ghost? Did it leave?"

"The ghost was—" Zhao Fusheng began, but footsteps sounded in the distance, as if many people were rushing into the village.

Both instinctively turned toward the noise.

The ghost fog had dissipated; dawn was breaking. A crowd approached, calling, "Sir, sir, Master Zhao?"

"Here," Zhao Fusheng replied.

Zhang Chuan Shi’s eyes lit up. "They must be from Wu’an Town."

From his knowledge, the Bureau’s officials traveled with strict protocols and grand displays. Local towns welcomed them with feasts and wealth, celebrating their arrival.

Yesterday Zhao Fusheng had bypassed the town, bringing her carriage straight to the village. Wu’an Town’s people must have gotten news later, fearing Zhao Fusheng’s wrath, and so arrived early to await her.

"Hmph, they’re too late!" Zhang Chuan Shi said angrily after his initial joy. "Sir, you’ve finished the case and these useless dogs arrive now—what good are they?"

Zhao Fusheng shook her head and exited the courtyard.

The newcomers, hearing Zhang Chuan Shi’s words, were terrified. Before they could enter and plead for forgiveness, they saw Zhao Fusheng and instantly knelt en masse, not daring to rise.

"Sir, please forgive us," the leader said anxiously, "We are from Wu’an Town. I am Pang Biao, the town’s constable. We received word from the county yesterday evening, learned you had arrived, and immediately gathered men to rush to Doghead Village—"

He feared Zhao Fusheng would blame him for arriving late.

Ghost tamers were known for their dark tempers; a misstep could mean death.

"When we reached the village, it was already dark. We discovered ghost fog—"

When Wu Da Jing reported to the county, he only mentioned a suspected ghost case.

But upon arrival, Wu’an Town’s officials found ghost fog—a sign that a vengeful ghost was present. Ordinary people wouldn’t dare enter.

"We feared our presence would hinder you, so we—"

"So you cowered outside, waiting until the fog cleared and the case ended before entering," Zhang Chuan Shi sneered. "Cowardly dogs."

He looked terrifying. Half his face drooped, while the other half was flayed, exposing gums and eyeball—blood oozing as he spoke, his eye rolling grotesquely. Ghostly curses sealed the wound, stopping the blood.

Despite such injuries, Zhang Chuan Shi was lively, almost spirited.

The horror left Wu’an Town’s people stunned; they dared not speak.

Zhao Fusheng saw through their caution. She let Zhang Chuan Shi scold them for a few moments before lazily intervening, "Enough."

She had solved two ghost cases, displaying her extraordinary power. Her authority established, Zhang Chuan Shi fell silent, showing submission.

"Sir," he said, the uninjured part of his face smiling obsequiously, "I just couldn’t stand their neglect of you."

"This time I’ll let it pass," Zhao Fusheng said, glancing at Pang Biao and his men. "I’m giving you a chance to redeem yourselves. The Doghead Village ghost case is resolved; the vengeful ghost has been sealed."

At these words, not only Pang Biao and his men but also Zhang Chuan Shi stared in disbelief.

Solving a ghost case and sealing a vengeful ghost were entirely different matters.

Zhang Chuan Shi, familiar with the paper man Zhang and a neighbor of the Bureau for years, knew how much pressure the officials endured. He had seen the Demon Suppression Bureau’s officials replaced frequently—longest for a year or so, shortest unable to survive even a single case.

Solving a case meant risking one's life, let alone sealing a ghost.

How had Zhao Fusheng done it?

She had solved two cases in succession, yet her eyes remained clear, her manner calm and gentle, her temperament composed—there was no sign of madness or rage, as if she hadn’t been affected by the vengeful ghost at all.

Zhang Chuan Shi hugged the registry tightly, not daring to speak.

Zhao Fusheng glanced behind her, saying, "These are the village survivors. They were marked and wounded by the ghost. Go to town, bring healers, treat the injured, and bury the dead."

Pang Biao and his men listened quietly, not daring to raise their heads.

"I don’t want to hear of plague spreading in Doghead Village or nearby villages. Once things are settled, have the town mayor come to see me at the county Bureau—I want to know the outcome."

"Yes," Pang Biao responded respectfully.

Zhao Fusheng continued, "I promised them six months' tax relief—Doghead Village's tax is halved this year."

Pang Biao had been shocked by her handling of the case, but Zhao Fusheng’s reputation had already spread through the county after solving the Beggars’ Alley case. Yet her mention of tax relief made several officers look up in surprise.

If the Han Dynasty’s court was a mountain weighing on the people, the local Demon Suppression Bureaus were even heavier. Court taxes could be deferred, but the Bureau’s taxes could not, and everyone—scholars and officials alike—had to pay.

Even Pang Biao and his men had annual quotas. Hearing Zhao Fusheng grant Doghead Village a tax reduction, they could not hide their envy.

"Our carriage is parked at Wu Li Fu’s home," Zhao Fusheng said, glancing back at the courtyard full of wailing villagers, all bloodied and barely recognizable.

Pang Biao, sensing the pause, quickly offered, "We learned you had come and feared the villagers would not serve you properly. We brought carriages as well—if you don’t mind, please ride ours back to town. We’ll retrieve your vehicle and return it to you."

Zhao Fusheng nodded. "No need for the town. Send someone to drive for us; I need to return to the county today. The rest is yours to handle."

She pointed to Wu Shaochun. "He is now part of the Bureau. His injuries are severe; he cannot travel. Take him to town and care for him. Once he recovers, have him come to see me at the county."

Having issued all instructions, she wasted no time and headed toward the village gate.

Zhang Chuan Shi hurried after her.

Pang Biao was true to his word. Several carriages waited outside the village, one especially luxurious. Zhao Fusheng boarded it without ceremony, Zhang Chuan Shi following quietly.

The driver from Wu’an Town settled in nervously, greeted Zhao Fusheng, and with a crack of the whip, the horses set off.

The Doghead Village case was finally over.

Only after boarding the carriage did Zhao Fusheng find time to review her gains.

Within her mind, the God-Sealing List remained locked, and the opened layer of hell now housed its first vengeful ghost.

The second ghost case was complete.

Without realizing it, the new book had reached two cases and three hundred thousand words.

In Doghead Village, the ghost’s origin was as a "shadow," without name, identity, or recognition. Its law was to mark all who knew of its existence and erase them one by one.

The vengeful ghost’s nature prevented it from being the main entity; when Wu Datong lived, it hid behind him, and after his death, it hid behind Wu Liren.

Anyone it marked could become its host, so Fusheng was, in a sense, initially one of its marked.

But Fusheng discovered its origins through clues, used her own skin to assemble a paper person, and wrote down its true birthdate—effectively trapping it within the paper figure.

After losing her memory, Fusheng forgot this. But when she and old Zhang suspected Wu Da Jing’s death on the carriage and Wu Da Jing appeared, Fusheng realized the ghost had possessed her.

So, after regaining her memory, she knew that having uncovered the ghost’s existence, she was its target. Thus, when the paper person was incomplete, lacking a name, she exploited the rule that "whoever is possessed by the ghost becomes the ghost," wrote her own name, and sealed the ghost within the substitute paper figure.

The story’s clues were gradually revealed as events unfolded. Since this is a supernatural suspense tale, I hope to combine story with some thrill and terror for a better reading experience.