Chapter Eighty-Three: The Case of the Recording Ghost

Chapter Eighty-three

Above the Demon Suppression Bureau hung a signboard, but after many years, when Zhao Fusheng was reborn, she noticed it seemed shrouded in dust, the script blurred and unreadable. Yet now, upon her return, she saw the dust had been wiped away, and the gilded characters were much clearer than before.

“Master…” Fan Bisi, seeing her gaze lifted, changed his expression slightly. Zhao Fusheng keenly sensed that at this moment, Fan Bisi’s eyes were bypassing her, looking toward something behind her.

She turned, and saw Zhang Chuan Shi’s lips pressed tightly together, his gaze also fixed upward. Zhao Fusheng’s sudden movement startled him; he tried to withdraw his gaze but was a beat too late, and then instinctively flashed a sycophantic smile.

“Did you notice anything unusual, Master?”

Fan Bisi stepped forward to ask.

Zhao Fusheng frowned, then smiled:

“No.” She said, as if by chance, “You’ve done well. The signboard of the Demon Suppression Bureau looks much cleaner than before.”

Fan Bisi breathed a sigh of relief, about to speak, but Zhao Fusheng strode into the government office as if nothing had happened.

Though she had been gone only two days and one night, her room was kept impeccably tidy. The servants dared not slack off; while she conversed with Fan Bisi and Zhang Chuan Shi, water for bathing and all necessities were swiftly prepared.

Zhao Fusheng sunk into the hot water, her taut nerves from confronting ghosts gradually relaxing under its comforting warmth.

Her gaze fell on her arm immersed in the water: the skin was delicate and snow-white, yet she seemed to see beneath it, the blood and flesh mangled.

The vengeful ghost at Doghead Village was formidable.

From Zhang Chuan Shi and the surviving villagers’ misery, it was apparent the ghost killed by flaying and dismemberment.

Had she not chanced upon a patchwork quilt made of human skin in Wu Li Ren’s room, and draped it over herself at the critical moment, coupled with the blessing of the Deified Merit List, she might not have fully recovered.

Wu Li Ren’s human skin quilt, often in the company of ghosts, might have mutated in some way.

But in those circumstances, Zhao Fusheng had no choice. Even if there were hidden dangers, she had the Deified Merit List and a reserve of merit points, so for now, she need not worry.

…

When Zhao Fusheng finished washing and emerged, Fan Bisi had already prepared food for her.

In the hall, not only were the Fan brothers and Zhang Chuan Shi present, but Magistrate Pang and a host of county gentry had arrived as well.

Now, in Wanan County, the only person openly capable of controlling ghosts was Zhao Fusheng. As the county was increasingly plagued by ghost fog and more vengeful cases arose, the safety of the entire county rested on her alone, making her movements a matter of great interest.

No sooner had she stepped into the Demon Suppression Bureau than word spread.

Magistrate Pang, not even bothering to change his clothes, had a sedan chair carry him here.

Upon arrival, he found most of the gentry had already gathered.

While she washed, the assembly surrounded the survivor Zhang Chuan Shi, questioning him about the case’s origins.

Though he had personally survived the ghost incident and nearly been killed, Zhang Chuan Shi confessed he understood little of it.

He had muddled along with Zhao Fusheng, terrified throughout, but never once glimpsed the ghost.

That did not stop him from boasting.

He recounted the ordeal with thrilling embellishments, calling Wu Da Tong “an old man carrying a curse.”

He explained that after bearing the ghost’s mark and arriving at the Demon Suppression Bureau, he spoke with Zhao Fusheng all the way, only to be killed by the ghost soon after returning to the village.

—Then everyone’s memory was wiped.

That old man was timid and cunning, but a true businessman, slick-tongued. Even without seeing the ghost, he managed to spin the story into a gripping tale that made the listeners in the hall tremble.

“…Master is wise and mighty. She guessed there was a ghost in Wu Li You’s house, and out of concern for me—afraid that I’d be in danger staying there—she urged me to leave and head to Wu Li Fu’s home.”

Zhang Chuan Shi laid it on thick:

“Master feared I’d be harmed by the ghost, so she kept me close, showing me every possible care—”

Fan Wujin endured his boasting for a while, then finally snapped:

“Enough! How could Master possibly dote on you like that…”

“Why not?” Zhang Chuan Shi was instantly riled.

He stood, clutching the Soul Register, his exposed eyeball bulging, veins and tendons clearly visible. A slight twist threatened to tear the flesh, as if the eye would drop from its socket.

Seeing this, Fan Wujin immediately cowered:

“Old Zhang, don’t look at me like that, it’s unnerving.”

He fiddled with his own eyelids, pointing at his eye:

“Don’t get too excited, I’m afraid yours might fall out.”

“Hmph.” Zhang Chuan Shi snorted, also wanting to touch his eye.

Everyone else shuddered seeing his finger brush the raw flesh, his mouth drawing in a cold breath.

“Master did look after me. Otherwise, how could I have returned safely from this ghost case?”

With those words, no one argued further.

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“Everyone knows your Demon Suppression Bureau…”

He stopped short as Fan Bisi shot him a cold glance, quickly correcting himself:

“—Our Demon Suppression Bureau has always suffered heavy casualties among envoys. No matter how many accompany the commissioner, there are never survivors.”

“But here I am, alive—doesn’t that prove Master took care of me?”

Everyone fell silent.

Though Fan Wujin doubted Zhao Fusheng would show him much care, the fact remained that Zhang Chuan Shi survived the ghost case.

He retorted stubbornly:

“That’s because Master is exceptionally skilled; you just lucked out.”

“Hah, you’re jealous!”

Zhang Chuan Shi ignored him. Magistrate Pang and the others, seeing the two bicker, hurriedly interjected:

“Old Zhang, please continue, please.”

Encouraged by Magistrate Pang, Zhang Chuan Shi raised his chin, half his mouth curling into a smug smile:

“Very well, I’ll continue.”

“We left Wu Li You’s house, and Master discussed the ghost case with me, suspecting Wu Da Jing had met misfortune. The carriage stopped at Wu Li Fu’s house, and we rushed over to investigate.”

He made no mention of his fear and reluctance. After two years with him, Fan Wujin knew better, and doubted his supposed bravery.

But the ghost case piqued his curiosity, so he did not interrupt.

Zhang Chuan Shi went on:

“When we reached the carriage, we found bloodstains. I guessed Wu Da Jing was indeed in trouble. But then, something strange happened!”

“What strange thing?” everyone asked eagerly.

Zhang Chuan Shi slapped his thigh:

“As soon as we speculated that Wu Da Jing was in trouble, the bloodstains vanished. Then we heard knocking outside, and the missing Wu Da Jing returned!”

“…”

Though well prepared for strange tales, the listeners still broke into a cold sweat at his words.

Just imagine: a remote mountain village, late at night, pitch black, a presumed dead man suddenly appearing—just the thought made Fan Bisi shiver.

“I—”

Zhang Chuan Shi was about to speak, but caught something in his peripheral vision, jolting upright and calling loudly:

“Master!”

His shout startled the others, who had been engrossed in his boasting.

Fan Bisi turned first, and upon seeing Zhao Fusheng, quickly stood. The others followed suit, seeing Zhao Fusheng leaning against the office door, listening.

“Master.”

“Master—”

Magistrate Pang and the others hastily saluted; the gentry rose to offer seats.

Zhao Fusheng nodded:

“Very well told.”

The previously smug Zhang Chuan Shi instantly wilted, awkwardness flashing in his eyes:

“Master, why did you come out without a word?”

“If I announced myself, I wouldn’t hear such a wonderful speech,” Zhao Fusheng replied. “Everyone, sit.”

The hall was already set with tables. Some dishes had been brought by Magistrate Pang and the gentry in haste, barely enough for two tables.

Everyone clustered around Zhao Fusheng as she sat. Magistrate Pang raised a cup:

“Our Wanan County is truly blessed. With Master Zhao turning the tide, I congratulate you on solving another ghost case.”

With his words, the others also raised their cups.

This old magistrate bore Zhao Fusheng no grudge and had shown her great respect since she took charge of the Demon Suppression Bureau. Zhao Fusheng returned the gesture, clinking cups.

Her journey to Doghead Village had left her hungry and weary; only now, back at the Bureau, did she relax.

After some polite words, she began eating.

Magistrate Pang and the others merely picked at their food, waiting until she finished before Fan Bisi ordered the remnants cleared away.

With pleasantries done, the conversation turned to business.

The gentry exchanged glances, finally settling their eyes on Magistrate Pang.

He hesitated, then cautiously asked:

“From Old Zhang’s account, was the ghost case handled smoothly, Master?”

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Zhao Fusheng cradled her tea cup.

Fragrant steam rose, and the hall of the Demon Suppression Bureau glowed with candlelight, far superior to the humble farmer’s cottage of Wu Li You.

The Han Dynasty was poor, backward, and dangerous, but since her rebirth, Zhao Fusheng held the power of a county in her hands. She was served in all things, her words heeded, even the magistrate and gentry showed her utmost deference.

Zhao Fusheng was dazed for a moment, until Magistrate Pang’s words pulled her from her reverie. She sipped her tea, savoring its aroma, and nodded:

“It was fairly smooth.”

“Please take care of yourself, Master,” Magistrate Pang said, bowing. “Now, the county’s safety rests entirely on you—”

The old man in blue brocade gently nudged his elbow, and he pressed on:

“Solving ghost cases is good, but dealing with ghosts is always dangerous. You shouldn’t use your powers too much—”

Those who control ghosts are notoriously erratic and violent.

Magistrate Pang had spent several years in Wanan County, dealing with several Demon Suppression Bureau commissioners.

Except for Zhao Fusheng, he recalled the last commissioner, Zhao Qichu, was mild-mannered, but with increasing use of ghost powers, his temperament changed drastically.

Later, even speaking with him, one felt a chill, as if conversing with a ghost, unable to meet his gaze.

Yet Zhao Fusheng was an anomaly. When she became commissioner, no one expected her to truly solve ghost cases.

Her first case, she tackled alone, and managed to disassemble the vengeful ghost of Beggar’s Alley;

In the second case, she solved it even faster, and Zhang Chuan Shi claimed she had already sealed the vengeful ghost.

She was merely a common girl from Wanan County, with no prior dealings with ghosts, no powerful artifacts, and the ghost she controlled should have been used twice already, nearing its revival phase—how could she seal this latest vengeful ghost?

Though Zhang Chuan Shi described the Doghead Village case vividly, the details were unclear.

Since the county’s safety was at stake, everyone wanted to know whether Zhao Fusheng had used the vengeful ghost’s power this time—

Most crucially, how much time remained before the vengeful ghost within her revived?

“This time, I did not use the power of the vengeful ghost within me.”

Zhao Fusheng shook her head.

She was well aware of what these people thought.

But facing their probing, she was not displeased. Everything she possessed was earned through strength. To make them submit, and restore Wanan County to its former prosperity, she had to display her power when necessary, to keep them obedient and settled.

“You—”

Magistrate Pang was pleased by her words, about to speak further, but Zhao Fusheng raised her hand, cutting him off.

“Since you’re all here, the Doghead Village case hasn’t yet been recorded. I’ll dictate it now, and you can write it down.”

The county lacked a clerk, and she was unused to the brush, her handwriting unattractive. Since Magistrate Pang and the others wanted to know the details, they could record it for her.

Upon hearing her command, Magistrate Pang bowed:

“It would be my honor, Master.”

Fan Bisi hurriedly had writing materials prepared. When all was ready, Zhao Fusheng paused in thought.

She recalled the events, quickly preparing what to say.

“This time’s vengeful ghost, let’s temporarily name it—” she mused, “Unspeakable.”

“Unspeakable?” Magistrate Pang, pen in hand, froze.

Zhao Fusheng realized he misunderstood, and patiently explained:

“This ghost is an existence that cannot be mentioned—not that it cannot be spoken of…”

She shook her head, rephrasing:

“Call it the Doppelganger Ghost.”

Magistrate Pang’s face flushed, realizing his mistake, and he quickly scribbled ‘Doppelganger Ghost’ on the parchment.

Embarrassed before Zhao Fusheng and eager to redeem himself, he concentrated intently as he wrote.

“Doghead Village is sparsely populated, mostly by the Wu clan. The informant, Wu Da Jing, mentioned a man—Wu Da Tong.”

She briefly recounted how Wu Da Tong lured a woman, forced her, left her pregnant, and caused her death in childbirth, giving birth to a ghost child.

Zhao Fusheng’s account was not as dramatic as Zhang Chuan Shi’s, but her logic was clear, her words concise, and as she had experienced the case firsthand, she quickly laid out the origins of Doghead Village’s calamity.

“The ghost’s trait is unspeakability. Because of its birth, anyone who mentions it or hears of its existence is marked by the vengeful ghost.”

Her words sent a shudder through all assembled, young and old alike.

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