Encountering Ghosts

The midnight mountain wind shoved open the window.

Though summer had already arrived, the mountains still carried a trace of chill at night. Lin Jue had covered himself with only a cloth robe, and when the wind blew over him, he felt a little cold as well.

He could not help curling up.

Just then, half-asleep and dazed, he actually heard voices beneath the floorboards.

"Huh? Who swept all the dust and cobwebs from downstairs?"

"Must have been the monks in the temple. Who else could it be? Looks like they invited someone to stay in the attic tonight, so naturally they had to clean it up."

"It's become quite a bit cleaner all at once."

"Isn't that so? These monks are rarely this diligent. They used to leave it so filthy that I didn't even want to pass downstairs."

"That guest should be asleep by now, right?"

"Probably? Brother Su, don't wake him."

"I want to go take a look at what this person looks like."

"Brother Su, honestly..."

Two different voices were drifting up from below.

At first, Lin Jue was still muddle-headed and thought he was dreaming. Then he suddenly realized what was happening and woke up at once.

Who would be talking in the middle of the night?

Were they human or ghosts?

They did not sound like temple monks.

Lin Jue did not move rashly, only pricked up his ears.

The attic was ancient and poorly maintained. Its wooden stairs had long since rotted away; they trembled and creaked with every step. When Lin Jue had cleaned earlier, each step had not merely made one sound, but three. Even standing still and merely waving the broom had made the stairs give off faint noises. Yet now, everything was silent.

What was strange was that the voices were coming upstairs.

"He's still asleep."

"What are you saying, Brother Su? It's the middle of the night. Everyone in the temple is sleeping soundly."

The voices were much quieter than before.

By now, Lin Jue had roughly realized that these two were not human.

There were Demonic Ghosts in the temple attic?

He did not know whether the temple monks were aware of it.

And what should he do now?

A thousand thoughts shifted through Lin Jue's mind as he pondered without end.

From the way they spoke, they did not seem wicked.

Then again, this temple had stood for a long time, and travelers came here every day to seek lodging, only in greater or lesser numbers. If Demonic Ghosts were living here temporarily, or frequented this place, they could truly be called bold. But from another angle, these two Demonic Ghosts had gone so long without alerting anyone, causing any trouble, or being driven away by the temple. Perhaps that also meant they were not vicious by nature?

No matter what, the two voices were drawing closer. They had not only reached the upper floor, but had even come right before him. Though Lin Jue remained on guard, he still did not act rashly.

"A young scholar!"

"Looks like he's gone out to study."

"He seems rather young. Earlier, I thought he was some literary gentleman in his twenties... He swept the stairs below, didn't he?"

"Don't wake him. This one encountered Demonic Ghosts on the road and was not afraid—he can be called a man of courage. He recovered a mule from Demonic Ghosts and returned it to its owner without hesitation—he can be called a man of virtue. He borrowed lodging upstairs and even cleaned downstairs along the way—he can be called a man of reason. Let him sleep here tonight. We'll go downstairs and sit around for a while."

"Brother Mo speaks very truly, but this man is also a reader..." The voice paused, then gave a snickering laugh. "Why not wake him and have him play with us?"

"Oh, cut it out. Go downstairs."

"Hahaha..."

The voices soon gradually faded away again.

Only then did Lin Jue let out a breath.

"Side by side we rode into the south of the city, where drooping willows spread like opened golden scales. Gold hinges adorned carved barbarian-brocade screens—who would believe King Chen possessed eight bushels of talent?" The voice had still been at the stairway when it began reciting, but by the time it finished, it had already reached downstairs. "This poem took three days to compose. What does Brother Su think?"

"What a line—'who would believe King Chen possessed eight bushels of talent'! Back when we were in the Western Regions, if Brother Mo had possessed such poetic talent, you would surely have won the military supervisor's favor and risen high already."

"Then how would I have met Brother Su?"

"Hahaha, Brother Mo..."

Voices continued to drift up from below.

"Enough about me. Has Brother Su put yours together?"

"I have as well. I'll make a fool of myself now; please help me polish it, Brother Mo."

"I'm all ears."

Lin Jue opened his eyes in the darkness.

These two truly did not seem bad? He did not know whether they were demons or ghosts, yet they even recited poetry and composed verses.

The loft was still empty. At some point, the window had been opened, facing the bright moon hanging in the sky. Moonlight streamed in, casting a square patch of frosty white across the mottled wooden floorboards. The young scholar held his breath and focused.

"Drums and flutes thrum beneath painted candlelit towers—who personally plays that little Liangzhou tune? How much spring breeze stirs the cardamom buds? All of it becomes a stretch of sorrow upon the autumn river."

"This poem..."

"What?"

"It's wrong!"

"How is it wrong? Brother Mo, please enlighten me."

"It's not the poem! It's the one upstairs! He isn't asleep yet!"

"Hm?"

At the same time, Lin Jue upstairs froze.

His heart tightened instinctively.

But before he could close his eyes, two heads abruptly rose from the wooden floor beneath the moonlight. The heads gradually ascended, bodies attached beneath them—two people had actually floated out through the floorboards.

"..."

Lin Jue could not help widening his eyes.

If he did not count the one at the Wang Family Ancestral Hall in Heng Village, this was the second time he had seen the true forms of Demonic Ghosts.

That kind of entrance really was...

"See?"

One of them looked at Lin Jue, then turned to the person beside him with a smile. "Didn't I say this one wasn't asleep?"

His tone was rather lively; he was most likely the one surnamed Su.

The other did not respond to him. Instead, he bowed to Lin Jue, his tone quite courteous. "The two of us spoke too loudly and accidentally disturbed Young Master's peaceful dream. Please forgive us."

"Brother Mo is right. But he cultivates his vitality and has some practice under his belt, so he hears our voices with exceptional clarity. Besides, he was likely awake long ago, yet pretended to be asleep and said nothing." As he spoke, that one turned toward Lin Jue with a faint smile. "Young Master, that is hardly the conduct of a gentleman."

Faced with them speaking to him, Lin Jue truly did not know what to do. Countless thoughts crowded his mind.

How did they know he was not asleep?

And how had they seen that he had practiced the Qi Nourishing Method?

Thinking thus, he nevertheless sat up.

He returned their bow, equally polite in his words, though without seeming humble or fearful. He merely explained, "My surname is Lin, given name Jue. I was passing through and stayed here for the night, only to encounter the two of you by chance. Anyone who encountered such a thing would feel uneasy and doubtful. Thus, waking but remaining silent to observe what followed is simply what an ordinary person would do."

"Young Master is too polite. I am Mo Laifeng."

"Su Xiaojin."

Having heard him give his name, the two did not hesitate and immediately gave their own.

In these times, that counted as etiquette.

"Young Master need not heed him. This is a temple loft, and it does not belong to us. It is we who have disturbed Young Master's rest." The Demonic Ghost named Mo Laifeng cupped his hands as he spoke.

"Well said—awake but silent, observing what follows!" The Demonic Ghost named Su Xiaojin smiled at him. "Your calm composure does not seem like that of someone who fears Demonic Ghosts."

"The two of you know propriety and understand poetry and books, so there is nothing to fear." Lin Jue paused. "I only wish to sleep and have no intention of disrupting your refined enjoyment. How about we divide the upper and lower floors between us for now? The two of you may continue discussing poetry downstairs, while I continue resting upstairs."

"You are a scholar?"

"I studied for a few days."

"Since you are also a man of letters, and are already awake, why cling to a night's sweet dream? Why not chat and amuse ourselves together? After death, there is endless slumber to be had." The ghost surnamed Su said.

"I am truly tired."

"Why be so reserved?"

No matter what, the two Demonic Ghosts would not let him sleep.

For the moment, Lin Jue could not gauge their cultivation. Moreover, they neither threatened him nor revealed any viciousness. They merely smiled as they invited him, seemingly with some goodwill, and he truly could not refuse them.

On second thought, he had left home to seek immortals. If he did not even dare speak with Demonic Ghosts of such a disposition, how could he seek immortals?

Thinking so, Lin Jue put on his shoes.

"Brother Lin heard our poem earlier?"

"I heard it."

"What did Brother Lin think?"

"It was... it was fairly good."

"Only fairly good?"

"It could also be called... a good poem."

"Brother Lin, how do you think it compares with Zhang and Liu of the previous dynasty?"

"..."

"Hm?"

"..."

"Brother Lin, why aren't you saying anything?"

"Better than Zhang and Liu..."

Lin Jue tried to speak, but he truly could not bring himself to say it.

Zhang and Liu were the most famous poets of the previous dynasty in this world, roughly equivalent to the Tang dynasty's Li and Du from his memories, with similar titles such as Poet Sage and Poet Immortal. Lin Jue did not remember much of their poetry, yet neither could he bring himself to claim that these two were comparable to them.

Since he was unwilling to lie, he simply cupped his hands and lowered his head. "My learning is shallow. I dare not speak nonsense."

"You brat! Can't you even say a few flattering words?"

Both appeared to be in their thirties. If the legends were true, they had at least been that age when they died. Facing the teenage-looking Lin Jue, they assumed something of an elder brother's air.

"You must understand! If you want to be a man of letters, to mingle with men of letters, the first thing you must learn is not writing poetry, practicing calligraphy, or pursuing scholarship—it is praising one another! What circle of literati doesn't praise each other?"

"If I truly do not understand poetry, then how could I know whether you are inferior to Zhang and Liu?"

"..."

All Lin Jue heard was the blind arrogance of literati, their mutual contempt, and a few bad habits. It made him somewhat uncomfortable, yet his unease lessened considerably because of it.

The two Demonic Ghosts then continued to egg him on, demanding that he produce a poem comparable to theirs. They seemed determined not to let the matter rest unless he did. In the end, they even said it need not be his own work; a poem heard elsewhere would do, so long as they had never heard it before.

Lin Jue did have some fine poems in mind. Knowing that these two had once joined the army in the Western Regions, he even had frontier poems that could leave them silent and wistful the moment he recited them. But how could he possibly recite them for them?

So no matter how they pressed him, he kept his mouth shut.

He already knew they could do nothing to him.

How could a man allow himself to be bullied by ghosts?

The two had no choice but to stop bringing up their own poems and ceased making things difficult for him. Instead, they continued chatting idly with Lin Jue, talking of heaven and earth, occasionally lamenting the lack of wine and song to add to the mood.

Lin Jue went along with them and gently guided the conversation, hoping to learn more from them about Demonic Ghosts, immortals, and gods.