82: The Old Sluggard (Part Two)

Mr. Zhou raised his head to glance at the sky, seeing that the time was about right. After a brief discussion with the middle-aged Taoist, he stepped forward and cupped his hands in greeting. “Fellow townsfolk, as you all know, these past years in our town of Fuxiang, people have gone missing, their fates unknown, and great fear has spread among us. Not long ago, my own youngest son fell victim as well. Rumors abound that demons and ghosts are behind these calamities.

“When we were at our wit’s end, this Taoist Master He arrived in our town. He quickly discovered the culprit and captured it.”

With a gesture, Mr. Zhou pointed to the wooden barrel before the altar. “Inside is the evil spirit that Master He subdued. It is this fiend that brought unrest and frequent deaths to our Fuxiang Town. Today, we will banish it utterly, so that peace may return to us all.”

The crowd gathered to watch grew ever larger. Before long, several more people arrived, attended by their entourages—some from the local authorities, others local gentry.

After a while, Mr. Zhou bowed to the middle-aged Taoist. “Master He, please perform your rites and destroy this vengeful ghost, so that justice may be done for those it has harmed.”

The Taoist nodded, signaling everyone to step back. With a thrust of his treasured sword, he lifted a talisman, flicked it, and sparks flew. With a sweep across the altar, several sticks of incense flared to life.

This display of skill drew gasps of awe from the onlookers. The Taoist whirled his sword, somersaulted through the air, leapt over the altar, and landed beside the barrel.

“Wicked creature, you have slaughtered the innocent and brought harm to this land. Today, I—an humble priest—enforce the will of Heaven. Your soul will be scattered, and you shall never be reborn.” Forming seals with his fingers, the Taoist slashed his sword, then drove it straight into the barrel.

Sensing doom, the barrel began to tremble violently; the sword pierced through, and a shrill, pitiful scream resounded. Thick black smoke poured from the barrel’s cracks as the Taoist flipped backward, nimbly avoiding the smoke.

The black smoke grew ever denser, while the cries from within faded, growing weaker. With calm precision, the Taoist took several more talismans from the altar, tossed them onto the barrel, and with a thunderous bang, flames leapt up.

Watching Master He’s ritual, Yi Fan shook his head. The spirit sealed inside the barrel was merely a minor ghost; there was no need for such theatrics. It could have been dispatched with ease, yet here were fire, smoke, and a grand altar—far more spectacle than substance.

Still, the little ghost was now utterly destroyed.

Suddenly, Yi Fan heard a familiar voice. Turning, he saw the old man who had tricked him out of a meal not long ago. The old fellow was speaking animatedly with Madam Xu, an older woman, and the two slipped away together, their actions furtive.

Sensing something amiss, Yi Fan quietly followed. He trailed them out of the crowd, around several corners, across a few streets, until they entered a house. Keeping close to the wall and making sure no one was around, he circled to a window and listened.

“Old Wang,” the woman asked, “are you sure no one else knows about this?”

“So what if they do?” the old man replied. “The gold ingots are in our hands—they belong to us now, and no one can take them.”

A moment later, he continued, “Ah, why didn’t you ask for more gold and silver back then? If you had, the two of us would have been set for life.”

The woman sighed in frustration. “How could I have known that Taoist would be so formidable, finding the greedy ghost’s hiding place so quickly?”

Listening, Yi Fan pieced together what had happened. The little ghost had a penchant for gold and silver, often stealing, and one day was spotted by this woman, who discovered its secret. The ghost bribed her to keep silent.

But Yi Fan was puzzled—surely even a minor ghost could easily deal with a village woman?

With that thought, he dropped to the ground and kicked open the door. The old man and Madam Xu rushed out, startled, and when they saw Yi Fan, the old man exclaimed, “It’s you!”

Madam Xu was surprised. “You know him?”

Know him? They were all too familiar! The old man hesitated, his expression odd, but then he adopted a defiant look. “We have no money—take our lives if you must.”

Yi Fan said nothing, stamping his foot and shattering a brick in the floor. His face expressionless, he said, “If you answer my questions honestly, I will not make things difficult for you.”

The old man’s demeanor changed instantly—he shrank and said meekly, “Ask what you wish. I’ll tell you everything I know.”

“Tell me, in detail, how you encountered the greedy ghost.”

Seeing the old man’s shifty eyes, Yi Fan pointed to Madam Xu. “Let her tell it. If she lies, I’ll break one of his legs.”

“Me?” Madam Xu was startled, instinctively glancing at the old man, who looked as if he might weep, but dared not speak. He simply turned away and shut his eyes.

Receiving no help, Madam Xu hesitated, but finally recounted the whole story.

A few nights earlier, she had been returning home after a secret rendezvous with the old man. On her way, she spotted a small, shadowy figure skulking about, suspicious in its movements. Curiosity aroused, she followed quietly and saw the figure reach the bridge, leap down, and vanish.

As she puzzled over this, a noise caught her attention. She looked up to see a short man in green standing nearby, staring intently at her.

Frightened, she froze, but the man did nothing more than warn her, in a raspy voice, not to reveal what she had seen. He gave her three gold ingots and promised her more if she kept quiet—if she betrayed him, he would take revenge.

She agreed, took the gold, and returned home. Before she could tell the old man, the little man in green came to her again the next night, saying a powerful Taoist had come to town, searching for him. He begged her to plead on his behalf, promising great rewards if she succeeded.

She discussed it with the old man, but he insisted she stay out of it. Even if she could speak on the ghost’s behalf, the ill-gotten gains the greedy ghost had stolen over the years would bring trouble down upon them both.

Yi Fan frowned. “Did he say anything else?”

Madam Xu hesitated. “He said that all the people who have vanished from Fuxiang Town over the years were not his doing—they were taken by little ghosts sent by the Ghost King.”

So Mr. Zhou and the Taoist had been looking for a scapegoat? Since they’d caught the greedy ghost, surely they knew the real story.

Yi Fan sighed inwardly. Human nature was truly unfathomable. Shaking his head, he decided not to dwell on it—he had no intention of interfering anyway.

Seeing Madam Xu looking at him anxiously, with no sign of further deception, he did not press them. With a swift kick, he sent the old man sprawling, then turned and walked away.