Equality

The shrill notes of a suona pierced through the eardrums like daggers, tearing through the street's quiet air. Feng Yushu hid in the narrow gap between two buildings and cautiously peeked out.

On the empty street, two lines of servants in white marched past with swaggering, uneven steps. The two at the head played horns, while the two at the rear wore white flowers. As they walked, they scattered tiny red paper blossoms along both sides of the road.

In the middle of the procession, four servants carried the four corners of a statue's base. The figure striking a dynamic pose atop the Lotus Platform was none other than the Snake God.

Lord He's servants had brought the Snake God out of the Ancestral Hall.

The bizarre sight nearly made Feng Yushu cry out in alarm. But remembering Ning Zhe's instructions when they had parted, she forced herself to calm down. She covered her ears with both hands, buried her face against her chest, curled up, and didn't move.

"Don't listen to, believe, or accept anything anyone says or does..."

"Don't listen to, believe, or accept anything anyone says or does..."

Feng Yushu repeated the words to herself, not daring to move.

The piercing suona notes drew closer and closer. The procession carrying the Snake God came from the direction of the Ancestral Hall and approached the place where Feng Yushu was hiding. The nearness of it, and the fear of being alone, made her even more terrified.

But suddenly, for some reason, the suona fell silent.

"Eh... eh?" Feng Yushu raised her head. With tear-streaked eyes, she stole a glance at the street. The procession carrying the Snake God's statue had stopped at some point.

A smear of bright red blood stained the uneven flagstones. It turned out that one of the servants at the head of the procession, carrying a suona, had tripped and fallen, splitting his head open.

"So... so that's it..." Feng Yushu's confusion cleared at once. "They've broken taboos too. Worshipping the Snake God is still a form of worship, and now they don't even know where they're taking the statue. That's why they're unlucky—they can trip even just walking down the street..."

The thought didn't last long. Feng Yushu frantically shook her head, driving away all unnecessary thoughts. She forced herself to stop thinking about what was happening in the street and, following Ning Zhe's instructions, lowered her head again, obediently playing the ostrich and listening to, caring about, and interfering with nothing.

A moment later, the suona sounded again.

The servant leading the procession, who had fallen and split his head open, seemed not to care at all that blood was still dripping from his forehead. He and his companion cheerfully resumed playing, parading the Snake God through the streets.

The suona notes gradually faded into the distance. Everything seemed to return to calm, and the familiar fear brought Feng Yushu a sense of reassurance.

But suddenly, a loud crash shattered the hard-won peace.

A tremendous bang—the sound of something smashing—made Feng Yushu jolt violently. She fell to the ground, then struggled to push herself up and raise her head. For some reason, the procession carrying the Snake God had stopped again.

Had they run into more bad luck? Feng Yushu thought instinctively.

This time, before she could drive the thought away herself, the thought was disproved. The servants carrying the god weren't the only ones suffering bad luck.

Bright red blood sprayed across the street. A towering statue had toppled over, crushing the four servants carrying the corners of its base beneath it. Its immense weight had burst open their abdomens, sending pale intestines flying and splattering in a sticky heap across the ground.

Nearby, the fallen statue of the Snake God had also cracked apart.

Looking at the Snake God's wooden statue shattered into pieces, Feng Yushu was overcome by a shock she couldn't suppress.

"The Snake God is suffering bad luck too..."

Had the Snake God broken a taboo as well?

At the thought, Feng Yushu hurriedly bit her own fair wrist. The pain drove away her unnecessary thoughts, and she curled up again, doing her best to follow Ning Zhe's instructions and ignore everything around her.

Perhaps she was lucky: the moment she buried her head in the sand was just right. Feng Yushu crouched on the ground, arms wrapped around her knees, and didn't see the servants whose abdomens had been crushed by the statue's base casually get back to their feet. The procession gathered up the shattered statue of the Snake God and placed it on the Lotus Platform atop its base. Then the off-key suona notes sounded again.

Carrying the Snake God's broken pieces, they continued toward the He Family Mansion.

Red blossoms and blood marked the procession's bumpy route. They still often stumbled, the flesh on their bodies growing thinner and thinner as it scraped against the sharp edges of the flagstones. Sometimes, they couldn't dodge in time, and one servant would be struck squarely by a plaque falling from the side of the street.

The heavy plaque sliced through his neck, and his round head rolled to the corner, trailing blood vessels and lymph tissue. But its owner kept shaking his head and playing the suona as he walked forward—though now he couldn't make a sound.

Only when the life-taking suona notes finally faded away did Feng Yushu cautiously lift her head, shoulders hunched and trembling. Her rounded, oval face was covered with dried tear tracks.

"Is it over...?" she wondered nervously.

Only after confirming that the eerie procession had truly gone far away did Feng Yushu dare relax a little and lean against the wall. Her mind was blank. She quietly waited for Ning Zhe to put an end to all this.

Feng Yushu raised her head and gazed up at the clear, deep-blue sky.

But suddenly, a man's figure blocked the sky between her and it. "Madam, why aren't you answering the phone?"

Feng Yushu screamed and fell to the ground. Her limp body had no strength left in it, and she knew all too well the figure that had appeared beside her without a sound.

"Zhang Yangxu..." Unspeakable fear crept across Feng Yushu's face, plunging her heart into a viscous swamp of hatred and struggle from which she couldn't escape.

Zhang Yangxu stepped forward, his expression earnest. "Madam, I know you suspect me, so I don't expect you to trust me right away. What I want to say is that Ning Zhe may have warned you about certain things, but that doesn't necessarily mean everything he said was right."

"No, no, no... I won't listen to you. I won't listen to you. I absolutely won't believe you... I..." Feng Yushu's lips trembled. Shaking her head, she struggled to crawl away, while Zhang Yangxu drew nearer behind her, step by step.

He seemed very patient, in no hurry at all, as if afraid of frightening her. With a gentle expression, Zhang Yangxu kept speaking earnestly. "I'm not asking you to believe me, Madam. I just want you to hear me out. You don't need to believe me; just listen, all right?"

"No... no... don't come any closer..." Feng Yushu was on the verge of breaking down. Her gaze was unfocused, and her shoulders trembled uncontrollably. "I won't trust you. I absolutely won't believe you..."

"You don't have to believe me, Madam. You just need to hear what I have to say." Zhang Yangxu softened his voice. "This morning, when you and Ning Zhe were in the Ancestral Hall, you—"

Before he could finish, a clatter interrupted him. Several roof tiles had slipped loose and fallen, landing squarely on Zhang Yangxu's head.

More remarkably, the tiles had landed with their sharp corners pointing down, like a spinning playing card stabbing into foam board. The sharp tile pierced the back of Zhang Yangxu's unguarded head and went straight through his brainstem.

He died.

Zhang Yangxu, killed by falling roof tiles, collapsed before Feng Yushu, who was already on the verge of breaking down. But the dead man left no corpse behind. His blurred human shape dissolved into wisps of illusory smoke, making it perfectly clear to Feng Yushu what he was.

"A ghost..." Feng Yushu's shoulders still trembled, but most of her fear had faded. "It was Ning Zhe. He must have done it. Somehow, Ning Zhe made the ghost unlucky too..."

Though Ning Zhe wasn't by her side, he was still interfering with the ghost's actions through some inexplicable means. He was still protecting her. The long-missed feeling of safety gradually calmed Feng Yushu's mind, like a drowning person clutching at a lifeline.

The rules punished every being that broke them equally, whether human, ghost, or god.