Female Ghost Song and Dance

"We'll clear the weeds in the yard tomorrow. Today, while it's still light out, let's go buy some things first," Song You said to the Three Flower Cat. "Will Three Flower Lady rest in the yard, or come along with me?"

"Three Flower Lady will come with you."

"Do you want me to carry you?"

"Mm?"

The Three Flower Cat tilted its head, staring at Song You.

"..." Song You smiled at it. "I just thought you'd been walking all day and might be tired."

"Not tired."

"Alright..."

Song You pushed the door open again and stepped out.

The Three Flower Cat followed him with quick, mincing steps.

This world seemed to be in a transitional phase from two meals a day to three. Depending on personal finances, many people had already started eating three meals, while others sometimes ate three and sometimes two. At this hour, those who ate three meals were just starting, while those who ate two had long finished. As a result, many idle people could be seen sitting under big trees, chatting and cooling off. Some held palm-leaf fans to swat mosquitoes, others cradled bowls—it all felt very lively.

When they saw Song You emerge from the yard, the people cooling off unconsciously stopped their chatter and cast him strange looks.

Seeing him in a Daoist robe, their gazes turned even more curious.

It seemed his topic value had increased.

Though Song You was only a temporary resident, he still nodded in greeting to them before walking off into the distance.

The Great Yan had no ward-market system; you could buy things anywhere. Still, shops tended to cluster together. The area he was in now was mainly residential. To go shopping, he had to head downhill.

He hadn't gone far before the people started discussing him again.

Song You didn't listen closely, because it was getting dark and he needed to hurry. He just muttered to himself as he walked, reciting the things he needed to buy.

The bedding wasn't the top priority.

It had just passed the Start of Autumn, but it wasn't yet the End of Heat. The weather in the city was still hot. And if he could survive the cold in the mountains, what was there to fear in the city?

When Song You had come out, he'd looked around. The yard had brooms and dustpans for cleaning, and many pieces of furniture were already there, but there were no pots, bowls, or pans. His first task was to buy a pot and a bucket, season the pot while it was still early, then fetch water and buy firewood. Song You needed a hot bath.

Following the straight little alley from the doorway downhill led to the bustle of Yi Capital.

White walls and black tiles, eaves like a forest.

Both sides of the road were lined with shops, each with a highly distinctive signboard—completely different from the period dramas of later generations.

Some signboards were nearly placed in the middle of the road. Some were enormous. Some shops hung giant banners from their rooftops, while others wrote their shop names on huge curtains hanging down from their storefronts. Still others had built massive gateways at their entrances, taking up a good chunk of the street. Pedestrians who wanted to pass had to either go around or walk right under those gateways. Some shops had already lit their illuminated signboards even before dark.

In short, whatever made it look grand, whatever caught the eye, whatever showed off their strength—that's what they did.

Later generations often complained that ancient towns were too commercialized. But in comparison, the ancient towns of later times were already quite plain. At least the signboards were uniform in style, and city management would never allow shops to build their signs and gateways out into the street.

In this era, though, it was a kind of culture.

"Wow~"

The Three Flower Lady couldn't help but marvel, almost forgetting to walk.

By the time she came to her senses, Song You had already walked far away. From her angle, all the passersby's backs looked the same. She stood there blankly for a good while before finally spotting Song You waiting for her up ahead, and quickly trotted to catch up.

As she ran, she kept her head held high, looking left and right.

Before long, they came across a shop selling wooden buckets and basins.

Song You bought a bucket and a basin. He asked the shopkeeper where to find cookware, dropped off the bucket and basin, then went straight there and picked out an iron pot—iron pots hadn't been popular in this world for long, but they had already made their way into countless homes thanks to their superiority.

He also bought a pair of wooden clogs along the way.

By the time he headed back, the sky had darkened.

Some shops on the upper floors had already lit their illuminated signboards—think of them as large floor lanterns, glowing signs—ready to welcome the Great Yan's night market.

Yes, there was no curfew here.

"So many lanterns and candles."

"Does Three Flower Lady like them?"

"So bright!!"

"Once we've settled in tomorrow, how about I take you out for a stroll at night?"

"Mm..."

The Three Flower Cat didn't answer. Instead, it turned its head to look at Song You. "Do you like them? The shiny, sparkly night."

Song You just smiled and didn't reply.

The night here was still far from bright enough.

That evening.

Constable Luo sat at the head of the bed, his feet, just taken out of a wooden basin, flushed red from soaking. A woman held a cloth and wiped the water droplets off for him.

"I heard someone's moved into the yard across the way? People were talking about it as soon as I got back from my shift."

"I've heard tell he's a young mister."

"Young Mister?"

"That's right." The woman picked up her cloth and stood before him to speak. "Maybe he's someone with real skill. If he can stay a few more days and finally quiet that courtyard down, that'd be a good thing."

"Quiet or not, what does it matter? She doesn't trouble you easily. By the time you're asleep, she's already stopped," Constable Luo said. "Besides, how many skilled masters are there really? Plenty who can catch a few minor demons or ghosts, sure."

"It still gives me the creeps."

"Do no wrong by day, and you won't fear ghosts at night. Walk straight and sit upright. They're all neighbors you know. If they were good people alive, why would they turn bad dead? What are you afraid of?"

"Then tell me, how long will this young mister last?"

"Young men have bold spirits. Maybe he'll hold out a while."

"How long is a while?"

"Who knows..."

The constable's tone carried weariness.

Just then, a woman's singing drifted faintly from across the way. The voice was soft and plaintive, like weeping or confiding, carrying a chill through the night—a sound all the nearby neighbors knew well.

The two of them stopped what they were doing at once, holding their breath and staring ahead as if their eyes could pierce through doors and walls to see into that courtyard.

Constable Luo sighed inwardly.

Tomorrow morning, that young mister would probably report the matter to the authorities again, and he'd have to send someone on a symbolic visit. He'd been through this a few times over the years. That female ghost—he could never find her no matter what.

Gradually, his heart grew calm instead. He leaned back against the wall and actually began to listen to the little tune.

At the same time, in the courtyard diagonally across—

Song You had just finished a hot bath and changed into clean clothes. His body still carried the steam, his robes loose and the fabric rough but not chafing, very comfortable.

He stood at the door of his room for a long while, listening to the singing, his hand already on the doorframe but not pushing it open. Only when the song ended did he step out. On the white wall of the courtyard, a dark shadow swayed faintly, hair reaching past its waist, enough to frighten anyone.

But Song You merely offered a polite bow: "Madam has a fine singing voice, and your skill is remarkable. Might I trouble you for another song?"

The shadow suddenly froze.

Then, with a soft puff, it vanished without a trace.

Song You was taken aback for a moment, then shook his head.

Lowering his gaze, he saw a three-colored cat crouched by the door. From the look of it, she had been guarding him the entire time he was bathing.

"What does Three Flower Lady mean by this?"

"What do you mean, 'what do I mean'?"

"Wasn't Three Flower Lady exploring the new home? Why have you come to sit by the door again?"

"I've finished exploring. I heard you making water sounds inside, and I was afraid you'd drown, so I came to wait by the door." The three-colored cat tilted her head, eyes glinting with curiosity. "What were you doing in there?"

"Bathing."

"Humans are strange."

"I won't drown."

"Strange, strange..."

Song You paid her no further mind and walked back to his room in wooden clogs, each step creaking loudly.

The room had already been cleaned, with fresh bedding laid out.

By the moonlight, he could vaguely see a cat dart past his feet, leaping onto the bed before him. She turned her head to stare at him and said:

"That ghost was just talking."

"I heard her."

"Her voice sounded so strange."

"That's called singing."

"What's singing?"

"It's a beautiful form of artistic expression."

"I don't understand."

"That's all right." Song You paused, then looked at the three-colored cat again. "Is Three Flower Lady sleeping next to me tonight as well?"

"You sleep over there." The cat glanced at the other end of the bed, indicating where he should sleep, then withdrew her gaze and resumed her farmer's squat. "Three Flower Lady will curl up in this corner and sleep."

"That works too."

The bed was quite large.

Song You lay down but couldn't fall asleep right away.

Not because of the female ghost in the courtyard.

He didn't know her origins or what she wanted, but he had rented this place through proper channels and couldn't afford any other lodging in the city. He would have to stay here for a while. Since he had to sleep here regardless, he might as well sleep first and think later.

What troubled him was how to arrange things from now on.

His master had sent him down the mountain—surely not just to find another place to cultivate in a daze. But how to go about finding some amusement was racking his brains.

Today, while shopping, he passed by a row of pleasure quarters, their lanterns still burning brightly. This seemed to be a comprehensive entertainment complex combining theater, dance, storytelling, acrobatics, and other performance arts, along with sports, food, and drink all in one.

Maybe he could give it a try.

He should also buy a few books to read.

If he could get his hands on a "travel guidebook," even better—not only would he have a plan for the coming days, but he'd also find suggestions on where to go in the future.

Without realizing it, Song You had also fallen asleep.

In the dead of night, someone was faintly stirring outside the door. Moonlight cast shadows of both people and trees onto the ground, hazy and indistinct.

This didn't disturb Song You.

What truly disturbed Song You was the Three Flower Lady.

The Three Flower Lady had said she would sleep at the foot of the bed, but she was unconsciously drawn by the warmth inside Song You's quilt, instinctively burrowing her way in. Cats have light sleep and are active at night. At the slightest sound outside, she would crawl forward under the covers, poke her head out to check, then burrow back in. Sometimes she would even wake Song You and ask him what to do.

But perhaps because he hadn't slept in a bed for days, even with this disturbance all night long, Song You still managed to sleep quite well.

Woken at dawn by the crowing of roosters, he felt utterly refreshed.