Discovery

Although the previous night's dream had been very strange, the innkeeper was still only half-convinced. He could only tell his wife not to spread it around. He still had a business to run, so he went to Fang Ming's room and knocked on the door. "Patron, did you sleep well last night? Is there anything you need?"

He asked twice, but there was no answer. The innkeeper's heart sank. He shoved the door open, and since it wasn't locked, it swung open at once.

The room was empty, but two things sat on the table. One was a silver ingot. The innkeeper picked it up and weighed it in his hand. It was about two taels, and his face lit up with delight. Then he looked at the other item: a statue of a dignified young official in Principal Eighth Rank robes. It was exactly the same as the one he had seen the night before. He cried out in alarm, and the silver slipped from his hand and hit the floor.

His wife heard the commotion and hurried up to look. She cried out as well. After staring at each other for a long moment, she said, "This is downright uncanny. Why don't we... report it to the authorities?"

The innkeeper's heart stirred, but he shook his head hard. "If we report it, this will become a huge mess. No one knows what might come of it. And we'd definitely lose those two taels of silver. I think we should wait for now. I'll hide the wooden statue, and you mustn't tell anyone..."

When he saw his wife agree, the innkeeper found a piece of cloth and wrapped up the divine statue. He carried it to the storeroom to put away. But as he was about to close the door, he remembered the deity's words the night before, promising to bless them with a child. A strange light gleamed in his eyes. By then, Fang Ming had already left the city. Looking north, he smiled with satisfaction. He had deliberately placed the statue beside the silver to stir the innkeeper's greed and make him keep it.

As long as the statue remained in the city and there were believers praying silently, his true self could use the statue and the Faith Line to cast divine arts and draw the city's residents into dreams.

Though this was a losing proposition, using the Dream-Entering Divine Art every day and conjuring fine food and wine consumed a great deal of Divine Power. And he couldn't just draw believers into the dreams; he also had to expand the range to attract more faith. The Divine Power needed each day was no small amount.

But as long as he was willing to spend Divine Power, the number of believers in the city would gradually grow. In time, that would prove useful.

He had accomplished his goal in coming to the city. Still, he needed to hurry back. If the divine thought dispersed on its own, he had no idea what might happen.

He had cast the divine art of splitting off his spirit and possessing a body yesterday afternoon. It was still the morning of the second day, and twelve hours had not yet passed. There was still time to return to Qingshan Village and settle things.

Meanwhile...

Two days earlier, Steward Zhang had ridden at breakneck speed, finally reaching the county seat before the city gates closed.

After entering the city, Steward Zhang first bought some gifts and loaded them onto his horse. Then he led it to White Water Temple and explained his purpose to a young Daoist. He was shown into a side room to wait. Before long, an old Daoist with a white beard entered, his bearing as ethereal as an immortal's. He was the same old Daoist Fang Ming had met that day. He saluted and said, "Lay Buddhist Zhang, it's been a long time. I've already heard about your master's passing. Alas! County Head Zhang was a benefactor of this temple and quite a kindred spirit of mine. Life is so unpredictable. I never thought I'd hear he had passed away so soon after our last meeting. I was just planning to find a time to pay my respects, and then you came."

Steward Zhang returned the salute. "My master often praised you as a virtuous and learned man, deeply versed in the mysteries of the Dao. He admired you greatly." It turned out that this old Daoist was Daoist White Crane.

White Crane's face seemed to grow a little rosier. He invited Steward Zhang to sit, and a young Daoist brought them tea and pastries. After exchanging a few pleasantries, Steward Zhang presented the gifts and explained why he had come.

"...That is how it happened. My mistress fears that my master was harmed by that deity, and she is also worried that Qingshan Township has invited a wolf into its home. So she asked you to go and investigate. I beg you not to refuse..."

Daoist White Crane stroked his pure-white beard. "This matter should technically fall to the Ghost-Banishing Office. I cannot act in its place." Seeing Steward Zhang's anxious expression, he continued unhurriedly, "But County Head Zhang was my close friend. How could I stand by and let him meet such a fate? Don't worry. I'll go with you first thing tomorrow morning!"...

Ignoring Steward Zhang's profuse thanks, he had a room prepared for him by one of the young Daoists, then took his leave.

In truth, he was an outer disciple of White Cloud Temple, assigned to oversee the temple in Anchang County.

He was already responsible for helping the Ghost-Banishing Office catch what it missed, and he also had channels through which he could secretly report matters to his sect. After Lingzhu had gone to support Linjiang Prefecture, he had become the person in charge of White Cloud Temple here. He had received word a few days ago that the Ancestral Spirit of Qingshan Township had dissipated, and had already planned to investigate. This new matter was simply an opportunity to go.

The next day, Steward Zhang was ready to leave early, but Daoist White Crane took his time. He first straightened his Daoist robe, then ordered a young Daoist to fetch an ox cart. Only then did they set off. The cart was slow but steady, and by the time they reached Qingshan Township, it was midday.

Though Daoist White Crane's cultivation was shallow, he knew a few secrets. Whether it was a Vengeful Ghost, an Evil Ghost, or some specter at work, such things all favored cool and shady places. It was high noon, when yang energy was at its strongest. This would not seriously harm an Evil Ghost and the like, but they would find it uncomfortable, and would not choose that time to cause trouble. As long as he did not venture into the shadowy grounds of an old residence or deep into the mountains and forests, he would be safe.

When they arrived at the Zhang household, Madam Zhang had been waiting eagerly. After exchanging greetings and a few words, she led White Crane to the mourning hall. Looking at the memorial tablet of his old friend, White Crane sighed with regret. He went forward, bowed three times, offered incense, and recited a Daoist Sect prayer for liberation to pray for Zhang Huaizheng. Madam Zhang thanked him through her tears.

Only then could they get down to business. Madam Zhang led White Crane to the room where the coffin lay and ordered it opened. When she saw Zhang Huaizheng's body, grief welled up in her again. She left Steward Zhang to accompany White Crane and went outside.

White Crane examined the body carefully, muttering to himself, "How strange. There's still a trace of life-force. This wasn't the work of a Ferocious Ghost. Could it have been some unusual spirit or monster? No, my talisman hasn't reacted either. I once read Zhang Huaizheng's face. Though I couldn't tell how long he would live, he was in good health and certainly shouldn't have died so young. How could his heart be injured for no reason? Could it really have been that..."

Then he turned to Steward Zhang and said, "First, show me around the Zhang household. Then take me around the area near the Land God Shrine."

Steward Zhang agreed and led White Crane around the Zhang household before taking him to the Land God Shrine.

White Crane surveyed the surroundings. Seeing that no one was about, he took out a yellow talisman and said, "This is a secret talisman passed down in my sect. If there's ghostly or demonic energy nearby, it will show signs of it!"

He stuck the talisman to the wall. After a long while, nothing happened.

White Crane shook his head, took down the talisman, and turned to leave. Steward Zhang was utterly confused, but still followed. When White Crane reached the Zhang household, he said goodbye to Madam Zhang. She could not persuade him to stay, so she saw him to the door and offered him five taels of silver for the return trip. White Crane smiled and said, "Steward Zhang and I are kindred spirits. Let him see me off." Madam Zhang agreed.

The two climbed into the ox cart. When they reached the edge of the township, Steward Zhang said, "Daoist, I'll see you off here..." He was just about to take his leave when White Crane seized his hand and held on tight. Steward Zhang had lived long enough to know when something was wrong, so he said nothing more during the journey. They continued on into the county seat.

As soon as they passed through the city gate, Daoist White Crane finally let out a long breath. Cold sweat ran down his forehead. Steward Zhang, sitting beside him, watched in nervous confusion.

White Crane reassured him. "All right. You must be completely bewildered. Let me explain."

Steward Zhang said, "I was just about to ask you to enlighten me!"

"When I first entered Qingshan Township, I noticed nothing. But once I reached the Zhang household, I sensed something was wrong. There seemed to be traces of ghost cultivation." Seeing Steward Zhang's confusion, White Crane explained further, "Ghost cultivation means that after a person dies and becomes a ghost, if they obtain a method for nurturing and refining qi and find a yin-rich place to cultivate in seclusion, they can remain in the world for a long time and wield great power!"

"I saw no wounds on your master, and he hadn't been ill. Yet he died of an inexplicable injury to the heart. Something was certainly amiss. Looking closely, I found traces of spiritual power in your master's study. This power was yin in nature and didn't belong to the living. Some sort of ghost cultivator must have been there." Even White Crane was puzzled as he spoke. At first, he had thought it was a ghost cultivator, but after a closer examination, the evidence seemed ambiguous. He didn't need to mention that part, though.

"Considering that your master met with trouble in his study, heh... the culprit finally showed their tracks!"

Steward Zhang understood. "So the one who secretly harmed my master was that... ghost cultivator?"

White Crane stroked his beard. "Almost certainly. But when I was about to expose it, I found traces of a ghost cultivator around the Zhang household as well. They probably haven't left and are keeping watch for news."

Steward Zhang was alarmed. "Then... what are we to do? What about my mistress...?"

"That's why I said nothing at the time and pretended to have found nothing. Now that we're in the city, protected by the Fortune of the human realm, ordinary ghost cultivators can't get in. So we can speak freely!"

Steward Zhang broke into a cold sweat. "Daoist, you're truly wise. I beg you to save us!" As he spoke, he knelt in the cart and kowtowed repeatedly.

White Crane smiled. "I don't think that ghost cultivator will harm you again. If you're still uneasy, find an excuse to move into the city. I'll report this to my sect first. Once the matter is resolved, you can return."

Only then did Steward Zhang look somewhat relieved. He thanked White Crane and went home.

White Crane returned to the Daoist temple and went to the study. He spread out a sheet of white paper and carefully wrote down the news, detailing everything that had happened in Qingshan Township. At the end, he added his own observations and conclusions.

When he finished, he blew on the ink and read it carefully. After confirming there were no mistakes, he called over a young Daoist and said, "Go fetch the blue bird from the back garden!"

"Oh... Hm? A blue bird? Master, we haven't used one since we came to Anchang County. Has something major happened?" The young Daoist shivered and asked.

"Alas... something major has happened. Your Uncle-Master Lingzhu is away, and there's nothing we can do. We can only notify the sect!" the old Daoist sighed. He had been noticed and taken in as an outer disciple by a senior of White Cloud Temple from the Ling generation in middle age, so he belonged to the fourth generation and could call Lingzhu Uncle-Master.

Hearing this, the young Daoist asked no more. Before long, he returned carrying a large blue bird about the size of a rooster. It was very docile.

White Crane tied the letter to the bird's leg, then took a yellow pill from his robe and fed it to the bird. The bird gave a long cry, looking delighted.

White Crane patted the bird's head and said, "Take this to the sect!"

The blue bird was quite intelligent and seemed to understand. It spread its wings and flew out the window.