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At the beginning of March, firecrackers exploded and joyful music filled the air in front of the Yangchun ancestral home. It was the day for Meng Chang-le, the son of the eldest branch’s Madam, to marry. The Yangchun residence hadn’t hosted a celebration in a long time, so relatives from all branches crowded the road in front of the gate, creating quite a lively scene.
Meng Chang-le married Zhang Si-yao, the third daughter of the Ministry of Works Vice Minister Zhang family. Although she was born to a concubine, for Meng Chang-le, who came from a merchant background, this marriage was already a step up. Moreover, Meng Chang-le had always been in poor health and had some intellectual challenges, so being able to marry such a bride felt like an incredible stroke of luck.
This made the entire family envious, especially the Second Madam.
The Second Madam’s son, Meng Chang-xin, was talented in both literature and martial arts and had an impressive appearance, but he was also born to a concubine. The potential matches for him were at least two levels lower than those for Meng Chang-le, making her feel even more unbalanced.
That night, after the newlyweds paid homage to heaven and earth and drank the ceremonial wine, Meng Chang-le chuckled, stretched out his legs, and fell asleep, completely unaware of what should come next.
The bride was both anxious and angry, feeling deceived by her own mistress into marrying a fool. She tossed and turned all night, unable to make sense of it, and ended up suffering from insomnia.
By the hour of Mao, Zhang Si-yao suddenly heard someone chanting sutras and tapping a wooden fish outside. Finding it very strange, she got up to trace the source of the sound.
As she walked, she arrived at a dark room deep within the ancestral home.
Dressed in her bridal gown, Zhang Si-yao listened carefully and confirmed that the sound originated inside. She tried to push the door open, only to find it unlocked; with a gentle push, it swung wide open.
Zhang Si-yao stepped inside and discovered that the room was unexpectedly vast.
From the outside, the room appeared to be a small house at the foot of the mountain, but inside, it connected to the mountain itself, forming a Buddha hall about thirty zhang deep.
The three walls of the Buddha hall were covered with statues of Buddha, housing over a hundred large and small Bodhisattvas. In the dark night, the ever-burning lamps flickered ominously, causing Zhang Si-yao to freeze in fear, unable to move.
Even more terrifying was that she realized the sound of the wooden fish came from a small white porcelain jar at the center of the room, each tap resonating directly into her heart.
She didn’t know where she found the courage, but inexplicably, she walked over, picked up the jar, and lifted the seal on its lid.
“Dong-dong-dong—” the sound of the fifth watch striking came, and Zhang Si-yao snapped back to reality, instinctively releasing the porcelain jar.
With a “snap,” the jar fell to the ground, shattering into pieces.
At that moment, a putrid smell wafted towards her, followed by the appearance of a black shadow standing right in front of her.
The shadow had no facial features, just two pitch-black bottomless holes where the eyes should be.
She distinctly felt the murderous aura emanating from the shadow, scaring her so much that she collapsed onto the floor. Expecting death, she was surprised when the shadow passed by her vision and disappeared.
The Buddha hall returned to its initial calm, except for the shattered porcelain jar lying visibly on the ground; all other apparitions vanished.
Terrified beyond measure, Zhang Si-yao was immobilized, sitting there in a daze, muttering repeatedly, “There’s a ghost... There’s a ghost!”
It wasn’t until noon the following day that the Madam, unable to find her new daughter-in-law, sent people to search everywhere. Eventually, they found her in the dark room, frightened witless.
“What happened next?” Di Jiang, seeing Zhong Xu hesitate to continue, urged him.
Zhong Xu thought for a moment, then pointed to the roof and said, “Later, I discovered that coffin at the Yangchun Meng ancestral home.”
“And what about Miss Zhang?”
“She’s already dead.”
“Dead?!” Di Jiang exclaimed in shock.
Zhong Xu nodded, “On the previous night, she was found hanged silently at her own doorstep. Though fewer people pass by at night, how could no one notice her hanging herself in broad daylight in a bustling courtyard? But the fact is, she hanged herself without any warning under everyone’s noses.”
“Suicide?”
“No,” Zhong Xu shook his head. “There was nothing beneath her corpse that she could have stood on to hang herself, meaning she went up there on her own or was hung there by someone else.”
“The sudden death of the Ministry of Works Vice Minister’s daughter less than a month after her wedding, how will the Meng family explain this?!”
“This is precisely what worries the Madam most. The main branch has temporarily sealed off the news, hoping to find the murderer before deciding what to do.”
“This… is not the work of ghosts, right?” Di Jiang said listlessly, “Yesterday when I was out enjoying spring by the Jiudu River, I didn’t sense any vengeful energy.”
Zhong Xu nodded: “At first, I didn’t see it either. It wasn’t until Madam took me to the Meng family ancestral home that I realized there was an overwhelming amount of resentment there, which was astonishing.”
“Where did that resentment come from?”
“It came from that coffin.” Zhong Xu said gravely.
“So, you brought it back?”
“Yes, I originally intended to seal it in the Baiyun Temple, but Wen Yao opened the coffin lid, and I discovered he’s actually not dead.” After finishing, Zhong Xu turned his head to look at the breathing corpse on the bed.
“If he’s not dead, how do you explain his shriveled muscles and skin?” Di Jiang asked.
Zhong Xu couldn’t answer and instead asked her, “Then how do you explain his breathing?”
“Hmm… Strange things happen every year, especially recently.” Di Jiang shook her head, pondered for a moment, then said, “My book boy has been caught by the Yangchun residence. Let’s go to the Yangchun residence again once it’s light. I believe there’s something big going on here.”
Zhong Xu nodded, then clasped his hands together and bowed to Di Jiang: “I leave everything to shopkeeper Di. I’ll come find you early tomorrow morning.”
“Wait,” Di Jiang stopped him, pointing to the bed, “Take this away, and also the coffin on the roof. I don’t want to rest under their watchful eyes.”
“Alright.” After Zhong Xu finished speaking, he turned around, crouched beside the bed, placed the corpse on his back, jumped out the window onto the roof, and soon after, he carried a large coffin and landed effortlessly on the street before turning into the coffin shop.
Throughout this series of actions, Zhong Xu didn’t even wrinkle his brow half a fraction. Seeing this, Di Jiang couldn’t help but shake her head repeatedly, thinking: “He really is carefree.”
Di Jiang retracted her gaze and looked at her bed again, only to find she couldn’t get past this mental hurdle. She decided to go downstairs to Shuxiang’s room. Without even taking off her clothes, she fell onto the pillow and entered a deep sleep.
Today, she was utterly exhausted.
Di Jiang didn’t know how long she had slept, only feeling a voice continuously “dong-dong-dong” exploding in her head, disturbing her sleep all night.
Di Jiang suddenly sat up, realizing the “dong-dong-dong” sound wasn’t a dream but someone knocking on the door. She put on her shoes and walked out. As soon as she opened the door, she was blinded by the sunlight outside.
Di Jiang then realized it was already broad daylight.
She crossed the courtyard, opened the gate, and saw Zhong Xu standing outside with a black expression, holding back his irritation: “You finally heard.”
“Ah ha... Daoist Zhong, good morning…” Di Jiang awkwardly laughed twice, then quickly wiped the eye gunk from the corner of her eyes and pretended she had been awake for a while: “Women always take longer to get ready. Wait a bit more, I’ll go call Wen Yao.”
“No need to call her, just the two of us will do. If one more person comes, I can’t guarantee her safety.”
“In that case… I should still let her know so she can watch the shop well.” Di Jiang smiled leisurely, went inside, quickly washed up, and hastily scribbled a note, sticking it in the center of the shop.
Ensuring that Wen Yao would see it as soon as she woke up.
After finishing everything, Di Jiang went to Zhong Xu’s coffin shop.
Inside the shop, Changsheng was organizing Zhong Xu’s packages, which contained many ritual objects—some Di Jiang recognized, some she didn’t—there were so many, about twenty types, too many to fit in one package. Changsheng went inside to fetch another bundle.
But Zhong Xu didn’t appreciate Changsheng’s efforts and stopped him: “Tai Xiao is enough for me.”
Upon hearing this, Di Jiang realized that the cold sword was named “Tai Xiao.”
No wonder its vengeful aura was so intense; countless spirits must have perished under its blade. How could it not be bloody? How could it not be violent?
Such a malevolent sword could only be controlled by someone like Zhong Xu, who was a Taoist master. If anyone else possessed it, they would surely be dominated by the sword’s spirit, losing their original self and becoming a slave to the sword.
As Di Jiang thought about this, she suddenly felt a sharp pain behind her back, as if someone was watching her.
She raised her head but found that Changsheng wasn’t in the room, and Zhong Xu was busy pulling out the breathing corpse from the coffin and placing it on his shoulder. He clearly wasn’t behind her, nor did he turn to look at her.
Feeling suspicious, Di Jiang scanned the area and eventually spotted an unusual paper figure among the pile of paper effigies.
The paper figure’s eyes were shaped like crescent moons, paired with lips curved into half-circles, making it look extremely strange.
Di Jiang paused, staring at it for a long time, finding it somewhat familiar.
“Did you draw this?” Di Jiang asked Zhong Xu.
Zhong Xu glanced at it and shook his head: “It’s probably Changsheng’s work.”
“Hmm… No wonder it’s so ugly.” Just as Di Jiang was about to turn away, she noticed the paper figure’s eyes open slightly, the eyeballs rapidly moving left and right. Startled, she quickly grabbed Zhong Xu’s hand and exclaimed, “Why can your paper figure open its eyes!”
Upon hearing this, Zhong Xu turned around but didn’t notice anything unusual about the paper figure, calmly saying, “Shopkeeper Di must have stayed up all night and is experiencing hallucinations.”
Di Jiang carefully examined it again and saw that the paper figure had indeed returned to its normal appearance, indistinguishable from the surrounding paper effigies. The previous experience seemed like an illusion.
“It doesn’t make sense…” While shaking her head, Di Jiang was pushed out of the shop by Zhong Xu and soon forgot about what just happened.
Zhong Xu followed behind her with the Yangchun mountain man on his back, without extra energy to notice other changes.
At this moment, all the assorted colorful paper effigies opened their eyes, their pupils uncontrollably darting around the room. Their lips curled unnaturally as if forcibly stretched, creating an indescribably eerie scene.
When Changsheng came in from the backyard, the paper figures instantly returned to their normal state.
“How strange… I clearly heard laughter just now…” Changsheng touched his head in confusion but soon forgot about it.
After tidying up the mess in the shop, he opened the shop’s door and moved the paper flower wreaths one by one to the entrance, preparing to welcome new business for the day.
The rising sun in the east quietly hid behind the clouds, and the sky began to darken, not as bright as during the Chen hour. At this time, mixed with gusts of northern wind, the funeral papers and wreaths in front of the coffin shop rustled loudly.
Changsheng had no choice but to bring out two thin coffins to place beside them, barely calming the fluttering funeral money in the strong wind.
Today seemed rather uneasy…
Changsheng silently prayed, hoping that nothing bad would happen to their shopkeeper.
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