It's Just a Haunting

The Three Flower Cat pressed all four paws firmly against the ground, each pad blooming open, as she bit down on a weed and tugged hard in one direction.

"Puh..."

The weed growing from a crack in the stone slab was yanked out.

The Three Flower Cat quickly steadied herself, avoiding a tumble, then dragged the weed over to the doorway and dropped it there.

A small pile of weeds had gathered, about a dozen or so.

Beside it sat a much larger pile, stacked half as tall as a person.

The Three Flower Cat paused, turned her head to look at Song You, who was bent over not far away, then glanced at the vast difference between the two piles. Her little face showed no expression, but inwardly she envied human dexterity. Then she immediately ran back to continue her weeding mission.

Half an hour later, the courtyard had grown tidy.

"Three Flower Lady."

"Hm?"

"Could you go up to the roof and pull out the weeds growing between the tiles?" Song You stood almost at the doorway, craning his neck to look at the rooftop. He hesitated for a moment before deciding to spare the roof-pine succulents, even though folk belief held that "roof-pines in the house mean the family's downfall," taking them as an ill omen.

But they really were beautiful.

"Three Flower Lady, remember not to pull out those roof-pines that look like flowers."

"Got it."

The Three Flower Cat scrambled up onto the roof in a few bounds.

The tiles clattered briefly under her feet.

Watching the courtyard become more and more like a place where people lived, thanks to his and the Three Flower Lady's efforts—even if it was just a rental—Song You felt quite pleased.

Then he chopped down the tangled bamboo and trimmed the plum branches, spending roughly the whole morning at it.

The afternoon was spent buying various supplies.

Song You wasn't in a hurry to buy everything at once or immediately reshape the courtyard to perfectly suit his habits. Instead, he strolled along the street with the Three Flower Lady, picking up whatever he saw that he needed, without deliberately racking his brain over what to get.

Even so, the afternoon passed quickly.

Coming and going all afternoon, the neighbors still stared at him with strange looks. Song You thought about asking what had happened in this courtyard before, to learn more about his future residence and the neighbors under the same roof, but once he got busy, it didn't seem necessary.

To others, a haunted courtyard might be terrifying. To him, it was just a bit of unclean presence.

Nothing serious.

Before he knew it, dusk had arrived.

Song You dragged an old chair into the courtyard and sat down, listening to the wind rustle through bamboo leaves, watching the fragmented clouds tinged with rosy light in the sky.

The Three Flower Cat wandered around the yard, occasionally chatting with him—complaining that there were no mice here, mentioning that the neighbors kept a cat too. He generally answered her patiently, keeping the conversation going.

A day in this era was neither long nor short. With little entertainment, Song You woke up early every day but also went to bed early.

Compared to his past life, it added the early dawn hours, making the day feel fully complete. But in exchange, it took away the nights that only began after dark.

He'd gotten used to it, and it felt fine.

Gradually, the clouds overhead turned golden in the dusk, then shifted to pink. But the pink lasted only a short while before the clouds became a deep gray, like embers after burning. This pristine sky seemed to remind Song You what era he was living in.

"It's getting dark..."

The light in the courtyard slowly faded.

Song You felt a chill wind, a cold breath spreading from the direction of the bamboo grove. He turned his head and seemed to see a blurry shadow, indistinct.

At the same time, the Three Flower Cat dashed over and stopped in front of Song You, looking around warily.

"Is Three Flower Lady protecting me?"

The Three Flower Cat said nothing, still glancing left and right.

Shadows flickered among the bamboo.

Song You looked closely—it was as if someone was dancing.

The ornamental bamboo grew against the white wall. As the light dimmed, it became impossible to tell bamboo from bamboo shadow on the white wall. A human figure appeared and disappeared among the bamboo shadows, the white wall turning into her stage backdrop. Every time he caught sight of her, she was in a different pose, light and graceful like a crane, free and easy.

Renting a cheap place with a dance performance thrown in.

When he thought about it, it was quite a bargain.

Until the dance ended.

Song You stood up and bowed toward that direction. "Lady, since you have already become a lingering spirit, why do you remain in this living dwelling? Is there some hidden grievance or an unfulfilled wish?"

No one answered, just like yesterday.

Song You thought it over and understood—

She might be a product of obsession, barely able to keep her spirit from dispersing, but she had lost all memory and intelligence from her life. This kind of ghost had very low awareness. If it were an evil ghost, it would be a vengeful spirit that only harmed people. If it didn't harm people, it was hard to communicate with, only acting on habits and preferences from before death.

So be it. As long as they didn't disturb each other.

Song You stretched, and after the spirit faded, he looked down at the Three Flower Cat by his feet and suddenly spoke:

"Three Flower Lady."

The Three Flower Cat heard the call and abruptly turned its head:

"Mm? What's wrong?"

"Were you a house cat or a stray cat before?"

"Why ask?"

"Just suddenly wanted to."

"I wasn't a house cat, anyway."

"So you were a stray?"

"I had a mother."

"And then?"

"She starved to death."

"I see."

By "stray cat" here, they didn't mean a breed of wild cat, but a homeless cat—one without an owner.

The Three Flower Lady was clearly not a stray breed; she was a calico with long-haired cat lineage, born delicate and beautiful. According to her, her mother was likely a house cat who had left her owner. A kitten's attitude toward humans largely depends on what its mother teaches it by example, and since her mother was used to being around people, she too was friendly with them.

"I've always wanted to know how you became a spirit."

"I just became one."

"Fair enough..."

Song You shook his head and didn't press further. After thinking for a moment, he asked the Three Flower Cat, "Then the Three Flower Lady must be a female cat, right?"

The Three Flower Cat immediately looked at him like he was an idiot.

"..."

Song You shook his head again, acting as if he'd never asked.

He sat in the courtyard a while longer, listened to two songs, and with nothing else to do, went back to his room to rest.

He had a feeling that many nights ahead might be spent this way. Thinking about it, he supposed he should thank the courtyard's restless spirit—at least she added a bit of amusement to the dull evenings.

A few days later.

Song You went out and bought an oil lamp, a jug of lamp oil, and splurged on a copy of Records of Geography and Scenery.

Records of Geography and Scenery was a popular travel guide in this world, recording many scenic spots and their routes, lodging along the way, local specialties and delicacies, as well as famous mountains, waters, temples, and monasteries.

It would help Song You get a glimpse of the world for now.

When he returned home, he saw a crowd gathered under the big tree next door—some cooling off, some playing chess. He stopped to watch.

A few old men were playing Chinese chess.

Two were playing, three or five were watching.

Not far off, another group chatted about trivial matters—whose daughter was getting married, whose son couldn't find a wife.

Summer mosquitoes were plentiful and vicious, and everyone here held palm-leaf fans; at night, the sound of fans slapping against bodies rose and fell.

Over the past few days, the neighbors' attitudes toward him had shifted noticeably.

At first, they watched with curiosity, not believing he could stay long, often whispering among themselves about how many days he'd last. But now, seeing him come and go daily without panic or fear, settled in as if he belonged there, and recalling the Daoist robe he wore when he first arrived, many neighbors looked at him with a bit more respect.

Song You watched for a while, and someone came to talk to him.

"Young Mister, have you eaten dinner?"

Song You turned to see the woman from the house diagonally across. He vaguely remembered her husband worked in the government.

"Yes, I have."

"This courtyard hasn't been rented out for years. Even when someone did rent it, they'd move out the same day." The woman asked curiously, "Young Mister, living here and hearing that ghost singing every night—are you really not afraid at all?"

At her words, in the dim evening light, many eyes turned toward Song You.

Clearly, everyone was interested in this topic.

Perhaps over the years, this haunted courtyard had helped them pass many dull moments over tea and meals. They'd talked about it for a long time, but this was the first time someone had lived there for so many days, naturally adding a new topic.

But Song You just stared at the old men playing chess and said with a smile, "Don't you all hear it too?"

So he really wasn't afraid!

Some felt a chill inside.

They'd thought he slept early and soundly, unable to hear it.

The crowd exchanged glances.

"We know the ghost can't leave that courtyard. Besides, when no one lives there, she only stirs every three to five days," the woman said. "And we don't do bad things in our daily lives, so we're not afraid of ghosts knocking at night."

"That makes sense."

Song You still kept his eyes on the chess game.

The wooden chess pieces clacked against each other, producing a crisp sound.

After death, humans become ghosts. Ghosts are inherently weaker than humans by nature; those ghosts more powerful than humans have already cultivated some level of skill, while most ghosts are even feebler. Even many malevolent ghosts harm people through deception and intimidation. An ordinary person who is neither greedy nor fearful has little reason to be afraid of ghosts.

Song You had even heard a tale of a burly man who encountered a ghost at night and ended up bullying the ghost instead.

Just then, the woman asked again:

"Young Mister, since you're clearly capable, why didn't you just get rid of the ghost?"

"That was merely a wisp of a lingering soul. This Humble One only managed to rent such a cheap courtyard thanks to her—how could I repay kindness with enmity?" Song You turned and offered the woman a slight bow with a smile. "Besides, the long nights are dull. With her around, it adds a bit of amusement."

Hearing this, many listeners immediately understood—

This Young Mister was not only genuinely unafraid but truly capable as well. The ghosts that ordinary people would go out of their way to avoid were, in his eyes, utterly insignificant.