Chapter Nine: Haunted by a Vengeful Spirit

Chapter Nine

“That’s all the better, then.” Zhao Fusheng forced herself to appear calm, letting out a laugh as she spread the jade book in her palm, turning it over and examining it several times. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the shifting expressions on the faces of the Fan brothers. Pressing her lips together, she continued, “To die and be reborn fills my heart with dread. If I don’t get to the bottom of these matters, I won’t have any peace of mind. I hope you two brothers from the Fan family can forgive my persistence.”

The brothers, hearing her words, found some sense in them. Considering that she had been nothing but an ignorant farm girl before, her current assertiveness was likely due to a brush with death. With this thought, the gloom on their faces lightened noticeably.

Now, she likely had a ghost at her beck and call. If not driven to desperation, Fan Bisheng would never want to fall out with her, so he feigned magnanimity. “You’re right. While my brother and I have been forced into this, it’s true we dragged you into these muddy waters. Ask whatever you need.”

Zhao Fusheng sneered inwardly, but outwardly, her smile was gentle. “My soul register has been activated, hasn’t it?”

Since she’d taken hold of the jade book, she could vaguely sense a connection to it, as if it exerted a subtle restraint. The talismans inscribed on it made her uneasy.

“That’s correct.” At this point, there was no need for secrecy. Fan Bisheng nodded. “As soon as you joined the Demon Suppression Bureau, your soul register was activated. Once your soul is entered, your life and death are controlled by the court.”

Fearing she’d be unsettled by that, he added, “But you know the state of Wan’an County. The court has already abandoned this place. So under normal circumstances, as long as you don’t leave Wan’an, the register’s hold on you is meaningless.”

And with the ghost mist hanging over the county, it was no easy thing for an ordinary person to roam about. Though Zhao Fusheng seemed to have temporarily subdued a malevolent spirit, such powers were treacherous—one false step, and she’d be dead.

Fan Bisheng offered a kindly suggestion. “Why not find a place to lie low and enjoy some peace?”

But that was the last thing Zhao Fusheng intended. Having barely escaped death, she had no wish to simply wait for it here.

Ever shrewd, Fan Bisheng saw her disregard and said no more. With the ghost mist spreading throughout Wan’an, and the records in Xu Yu’s “Book of Heaven and Earth” indicating that as the mist grew, so did the chance of meeting ghosts, he reckoned she’d soon have further dealings with spirits. After a few such encounters, she’d understand just how terrifying they were, and would see the wisdom of his advice.

“Tell me about the origins of this soul register,” Zhao Fusheng pressed.

Fan Bisheng had expected this. After being bound to the register himself, he’d tried to trace its origins, hoping to find a way out. But as it happened, the matter wasn’t even a secret in the Bureau. The court had never tried to hide it—one inquiry, and he’d found all he needed.

“I already told you, the soul register seizes a portion of your spirit and binds it with ghost script, which exerts control over your soul.”

Zhao Fusheng recalled the peculiarity of that ghost script and nodded. “You said it was drawn by Jia Yi…”

“Correct.” Fan Bisheng, eager to leave the Bureau behind, got straight to the point. “The ghost in Jia Yi’s possession is highly unusual. In fact, Jia Yi wasn’t its first master.”

His words brought to Zhao Fusheng’s mind the rampant ghost in Wan’an County. She remained silent, but Fan Bisheng, ever perceptive, caught her train of thought. “You’re thinking that this kind of succession with malevolent spirits is similar to what happened with Zhao Qiming’s out-of-control ghost in Wan’an, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Zhao Fusheng admitted, seeing no point in denial.

“It’s exactly the same. Once one’s power is great enough, anything can be a resource, including ghosts,” Fan Bisheng said. “From that, you can see how terrifying the court’s resources are—they have many such spirits, of various types.”

“To be brief: this particular ghost kills with its script, similar to a plague or a curse. Anything tainted by its ghost script dies without exception.”

Of course, that was far from the extent of its abilities. Zhao Fusheng had caught a crucial point: when Fan Bisheng mentioned this ghost, he’d used the term “Calamity-class.” She had no idea what that really meant, but the name alone filled her with foreboding.

“After the court took control of the ghost and refined it over several generations…” Fan Bisheng paused.

“You know what that means. As humans subjugate spirits, the ghosts feed on human souls and grow stronger. Even malevolent spirits can increase in rank.”

Zhao Fusheng felt ever more uneasy.

“Over the course of its cultivation, the ghost’s rank has risen to at least Calamity-class, at which point it gained the ability to command minions,” Fan Bisheng continued. “You know what a ghost minion is, don’t you?”

“I’ve heard of them,” Zhao Fusheng replied, her face paling. “It’s said that when a tiger eats a person, it raises their spirit as a minion.”

“Something like that,” Fan Bisheng said, frowning at the folklore but not bothering to contradict her. He went on, “The court makes these jade books, the ghost inscribes its script on them, and every time a soul is contracted, it’s like a tribute to the ghost.”

In other words, the court used the souls of the Bureau’s ghost tamers to feed this spirit, while keeping it under their own command.

“In a way, we’re like minions to this ghost, under its control. If anyone rebels against the court, the ghost’s power will kill them instantly.”

His explanation was clear. Zhao Fusheng felt icy dread from head to toe.

Seeing her reaction, Fan Bisheng allowed her some time to absorb the news, expecting she’d need a long while to accept it. But after a brief pause, she asked, “You said ghosts are prone to losing control. Doesn’t the court worry that this ghost might go berserk, killing indiscriminately and throwing the Bureau into chaos?”

Fan Bisheng was almost impressed by how quickly she regained her composure. “So what? In times like these, even this is considered peace. Who can say how long it will last? For all we know, my brother and I could be dead from a ghost tomorrow.”

At the mention of death, all three fell silent for a time.

After a while, Fan Bisheng grew restless and urged, “Fusheng—”

“No need to rush,” Zhao Fusheng shook her head and continued, “To free you, I have to extract your soul fragment so you can leave Wan’an. But if I want to leave, who would extract mine?”

“Yours can’t be extracted. That requires a high-ranking ghost master at the level of a general or above in the court.”

And the court had already abandoned this place.

Having said so much, Fan Bisheng was growing impatient, and afraid her questions would go on forever. He said bluntly, “Don’t get your hopes up. With your soul in the register, you can’t leave Wan’an. Don’t think that just because you command a spirit, you’re anything special. I told you—”

“Wait!” Zhao Fusheng had more to ask, especially about the strange look he’d had earlier when ‘minions’ came up, but before she could, his next words filled her with unease.

“What do you mean, commanding a spirit—?”

“You died at the hands of a ghost and yet returned to life. You can’t pretend not to know what that means,” Fan Bisheng said flatly.

“You mean…”

“Only the power of a ghost is that frightening. Ghosts are undying. They may be sealed or torn apart, but humans can’t kill them. Your resurrection is clearly due to a ghost’s power. You’ve borrowed that power—if that’s not commanding a ghost, what is?”

Zhao Fusheng’s heart pounded with alarm. “Are you saying that the ghost from the Bureau is still here?”

“How could it leave, when you aren’t dead?” Fan Bisheng retorted.

“How am I not dead?” Zhao Fusheng was horrified. “I died yesterday!”

She had no idea how to explain to the Fan brothers, but last night’s ‘dream’ had shown her the truth: the original Zhao Fusheng had died at the ghost’s hands; she was just a hapless soul reborn by chance in a borrowed body.

By the logic of souls, she and the original were not even the same person…

“By your logic, I was killed by a ghost yesterday—the cycle of cause and effect is complete…”

“Spirits don’t care about your principles. If you haven’t truly died, the ghost’s law isn’t satisfied. I don’t know how you managed to restrain that out-of-control spirit and keep it dormant for now, but that won’t last. If you ever rouse it or draw on its power, that’s when you’ll meet your end.”

He finished, and with rare humor, added, “See old Zhang at the coffin shop across the street? With the Bureau trapped in a ghost domain, he dares to run a coffin business here because he knows there are plenty of deaths—good for business. He won’t leave.”

Zhao Fusheng’s heart plunged to the depths; her mind went blank for a moment.

When she finally recovered, she was both terrified and furious, restless and agitated. Instinctively, she reached to touch her back.

So that chilling sense of unease and being watched hadn’t been her imagination. She hadn’t realized that after the original Zhao Fusheng’s death, the vengeful spirit hadn’t left but had doggedly attached itself to her, hiding who knew where.

She had survived disaster to be reborn in the ancestral hall, only to find herself in this uncanny world—her soul bound by a ghost, a mere minion, and now entangled with a deadly spirit, with the Fan brothers insisting her days were numbered. How was she supposed to go on living?

Fan Bisheng sneered, “Once a spirit latches on, it never lets go. Either you control it, or it drains you dry. Take my advice: stay quiet and don’t try to use its power. If you’re lucky, you’ll last a year or two. If not, maybe not even a month.”

Zhao Fusheng’s expression was stormy as she gripped the jade book. Fan Bisheng added, “Since we’re about to part ways, I’ll give you one last piece of advice—keep that jade book safe.”

“What do you mean…” Zhao Fusheng gritted her teeth and asked.

Fan Bisheng, fearing he’d pushed her too far, softened his tone. “Don’t think being in the soul register and bound to a ghost is all bad. The reason you’ve survived after attracting a spirit—aside from your extraordinary fate and the luck passed down from your parents—is also because of the soul register.”

Only ghosts can deal with ghosts.

“The soul register is a ghostly object. In other words, you’re a minion to Jia Yi’s spirit—you’re its prey.”

When the Bureau’s other ghosts came for Zhao Fusheng, this was a contest between two spirits.

“So in the end, while the register is a ghostly artifact, it’s also your protection. If you awaken the spirit inside you, the register’s ghost can shield you for a while.”

Zhao Fusheng wanted to curse.

But things had reached this point—anger was useless; cursing would do no good. Forcing herself to calm down, she realized another problem.

“From what you’ve said, ghosts have different ranks, don’t they?”

“Yes.” Fan Bisheng’s impatience showed; her questions seemed endless.

“You said the ghost controlling the register is Calamity-class…”

“At least Calamity-class!” he interrupted.

Zhao Fusheng let that pass and asked, “If the ghost commanding the minions has reached Calamity-class, but the spirit within me can still kill me under its influence, doesn’t that mean…”

“It’s not the same.” Fan Bisheng forced himself to explain. “We rank spirits not just by power, but also by their destructiveness and other factors.”

“If a ghost is powerful but only kills individuals, its rank may be high, but it’s not that troublesome. But a ghost like the one controlling the register—able to command legions of minions and, if it goes rogue, cause mass casualties—that’s what the court truly fears. Such a spirit ranks much higher.”

He changed tack. “Still, the power of a minion-maker isn’t just in its mass lethality. The spirit itself is terrifying. The reason you died at the hands of the Wan’an ghost is that the soul register is only an avatar of the minion-maker, not its true self.”

“If Jia Yi himself came here, it would be different. A powerful ghost master can not only banish but even control vicious spirits. Otherwise, how do you think Wan’an’s ghost was passed from Zhao Duan to Zhao Qiming?”

Zhao Fusheng felt a fresh wave of chill and despair.