What Shen Hui hadn't expected was that even a little county like Qu County had a city wall.
It was made of rammed earth, and parts of it had collapsed, leaving gaps, but it was still a wall.
Then he remembered that Yongchang Commandery lay on the frontier, and he understood.
The city gates stood open. Two thick wooden doors reinforced with iron sheeting flanked the entrance, where a pair of yamen runners sat with their hats askew. When they saw Chen Shou, they hurried to their feet and bowed and scraped.
The streets were narrow, with shops packed shoulder to shoulder on either side: cloth merchants, blacksmiths, vendors selling flatbreads, and a tavern with red lanterns hanging outside.
"Let's go to Zhou's Tailor Shop first," the Old Daoist said.
Chen Shou immediately led them down an alley, winding this way and that before stopping in front of a shop.
An old sign hung above the doorway. The moment they pushed inside, the smell of paste and fabric washed over them.
A thin old man was bent over a worktable, cutting cloth. When he looked up and saw Chen Shou, he quickly put down his shears. His gaze landed on the Old Taoist beside him, and his eyes lit up.
"Well, well, Daoist Ji Chen..."
The Old Taoist nodded, a faint smile appearing on his face. He raised a hand and pointed at Shen Hui.
"Take his measurements. Make him a Daoist Robe and a pair of Cloud Shoes."
The old man nodded in agreement and briskly fetched his measuring tape.
"And this Daoist is...?"
"My disciple," the Old Taoist said, then added, "My closed-door disciple."
Old Zhou looked a little confused. He could've sworn he'd heard those words many years ago.
But he knew better than to ask. He simply nodded, circled Shen Hui twice, and took his measurements from head to toe.
Once he was done, the old man rummaged through a cabinet and laid several bolts of fabric on the table, introducing them one by one.
"This is fine linen, a bit cheaper at two hundred copper coins. This is cotton damask, four hundred. This is fine plain silk, one tael of silver. And this is Tonghua Cloth and brocade..."
The Old Taoist pointed to the Tonghua Cloth. "Use this."
Shen Hui leaned closer for a look. The fabric was tightly woven, its color soft and lustrous. It felt smooth to the touch—far finer than the coarse cloth beside it.
Old Zhou nodded, then asked, "What pattern should I embroider on the Daoist Robe? Clouds and thunder? The Eight Trigrams? Mountains and seas? Flowers and plants?"
The Old Taoist looked at Shen Hui. Shen Hui knew nothing about such things, so he answered offhandedly.
"Clouds and thunder."
"Coming right up!"
The Old Taoist pulled a silver ingot from his sleeve and set it on the table.
The old man hurriedly waved his hands. "That's too much! I won't need all of this."
The Old Taoist didn't respond. He only said, "Use what's left to make the clothes better."
As he spoke, he took out a Small Gold Bar and weighed it in his hand, then snapped off a piece and set it on the table.
"Weave some gold thread into the cuffs. Flat thread, not round. Keep the rest as your payment."
Shen Hui stared in surprise. He hadn't expected his master to be so generous, willing to spend so much on a set of clothes.
Among those pampered young dandies who cared about such things, his master would've ranked among the very best.
Old Zhou beamed. He rattled off a practiced string of thanks and thumped his chest, promising to have everything ready within ten days.
Seeing this, Shen Hui couldn't help asking in a low voice, "Master, this Elder Zhou is...?"
"He used to be a weaver at the Daoist Registry."
Shen Hui understood.
The Daoist Registry was the government office in charge of registering Daoists and managing the names of temples and abbeys. Anyone who'd worked there as a weaver must have been far more skilled than an ordinary tailor.
But this was far too expensive...
By the time they left the tailor shop, night was falling. Chen Shou was just about to lead them toward the county yamen when a commotion erupted at the end of the alley.
Several people had gathered in the street, shouting over one another.
Shen Hui peered over. Two thuggish-looking men were squatting on the ground, rolling dice, with a broken wine jar lying beside them.
A young man in a short jacket was arguing with them, his face red and his neck bulging.
One of the thugs stood up and shoved the young man. Then he glanced back and noticed Shen Hui looking over, assuming he meant to meddle.
He was just about to yell at him when he spotted the Old Taoist, the Assistant Magistrate, and the two yamen runners in black uniforms beside Shen Hui.
The two thugs froze, then fear appeared on their faces.
Assistant Magistrate Chen Shou looked at them impassively, his voice cold. "You blind fools. Get lost!"
The thugs turned deathly pale and scrambled away.
The county yamen stood in the north of the city, with gray roof tiles and white walls. Two stone lions stood in front: one missing an ear, the other its tail.
When they reached the entrance, the two yamen runners stopped.
The tall, thin one straightened his saber and took his place on the left of the gate. The short, stocky one planted his spear on the ground and stood on the right.
One on either side, they stood like a pair of guardian gods at the gate.
Only their clothes were a little worn, and their stances somewhat casual.
One leaned halfway against the doorframe, looking ready to topple over.
The other rested all his weight on his spear, as if he might slide down at any moment.
This time, Shen Hui couldn't hold back. He finally burst out laughing.
Several people were waiting inside the yamen.
At their head stood an official in his forties, wearing a green silk robe and a silver belt, with a winged gauze cap on his head. He was fair-faced and slightly plump: County Magistrate Wang Jin.
Two men in blue robes stood behind him, one a registrar and the other a deputy constable. Both were in their fifties, their faces wreathed in smiles.
Wang Jin stepped forward and clasped his hands. "Daoist Ji Chen, we've been waiting ages for you."
The Old Taoist returned the greeting. Wang Jin then looked at Shen Hui. "And this is...?"
"My disciple, Qingxuan."
Shen Hui bowed.
Wang Jin gave him an appraising look, smiled, and led them farther inside.
Two people were already seated in the rear hall.
Shen Hui glanced over without showing what he was thinking.
A middle-aged scholar sat by the window, wearing a gray robe. He held a folding fan and waved it as he sat there with an arrogant look.
It had only just turned the new year, and the chill of early spring still lingered. The man's lips were practically blue, yet he kept fanning himself without pause.
Silently, Shen Hui slapped a yellow paper talisman onto him in his mind. On it, two large characters read: Show-off.
He turned to look at the other person.
It was a huge, fat monk in a gray robe, a string of fist-sized Buddhist prayer beads hanging around his neck. He sat with his eyes closed, quietly resting.
Wang Jin introduced them. "This is Scholar Li, well-versed in yin-yang arts and divination. This is Master Faming, from Wan'an Temple."
Then he turned to the two newcomers. "And this is Daoist Ji Chen of Clear Wind Temple. I hardly need to introduce him, do I?"
The Old Taoist clasped his hands to everyone, then found a chair and sat down.
Wang Jin personally poured tea for everyone before clearing his throat. "Gentlemen, the county has accumulated quite a few problems over the past six months. I'm incapable of dealing with them alone, so I've had to ask you all for help."
Scholar Li waved his fan and spoke first. "There's no need to be so polite, County Magistrate. Please, go on."
Wang Jin sighed and took a sheet of paper from his sleeve. He unfolded it. "The first matter concerns the Liu Family Old Residence in the east of town. The house has been empty for seven or eight years. Since last August, people have often heard crying there at night, and several neighboring families have been so frightened that they moved away. Some say it's the ghost of the old Liu matriarch; others say a fox is haunting the place."
"The second concerns Widow Wang's grave in the south. Three days after she was buried, scratching sounds came from inside her coffin. When they opened it, her body had turned over, all her fingernails were worn down, and there were scratch marks on the lid. The coroner said it was a corpse coming back to life, but the body didn't seem like it."
"The third: three children have gone missing from Xu Family Village in the north. All of them disappeared at night. Some people say they saw a black shadow; others say they heard a child crying. But no one saw what it was."
"The fourth..."
He paused, lowering his voice. "At the White Water River ferry crossing, there was trouble with a water ghost before the new year. A boatman was ferrying people across in the middle of the night when he saw a woman in white standing in the center of the river. He blinked, and she was gone. The next day, the boatman went mad. He's still lying at home."
"The fifth is the matter giving me the biggest headache. Bandits from Cat Ridge robbed a caravan on Bonan Road before the new year. They killed three people and stole two hundred taels of silver. The county doesn't have enough men, so we petitioned the commandery for help. They told us to wait until spring. But spring is nearly here, and if we don't act soon, I fear there'll be more trouble."
County Magistrate Wang sighed and continued.
"The sixth: a body was stolen from the Righteous Mortuary. It's west of town, beside the Mass Grave. The mortuary holds unclaimed corpses, along with travelers who died far from home. Then one day..."
"The seventh: something has been digging up corpses at the Mass Grave outside town. This is connected to the missing body from the Righteous Mortuary. On the twenty-third day of the twelfth lunar month last year, a woodcutter got up early to gather firewood. As he passed the Mass Grave, he saw a new grave that had been dug open, its coffin lid tossed aside..."
When he finished, his gaze swept across everyone's faces.
Scholar Li waved his fan and spoke in an unhurried voice. "I went to inspect the Liu Family Old Residence. There is indeed some yin energy there. But the house has bad feng shui and has been neglected for years, so strange noises are only to be expected. I think we should first ask Master Faming to perform a ritual to suppress it. That should be enough."
Monk Faming opened his eyes. "Amitabha. I'd like to take a look at Widow Wang's grave. A body turned over, its fingernails worn down—these are ominous signs. If it isn't handled properly, it may truly rise from the dead."
Everyone chimed in with their own opinions, but the Old Taoist remained silent throughout.
After waiting a while, Wang Jin couldn't help asking, "What do you think, Daoist?"
The Old Taoist set down his teacup. "One at a time. Let's start by looking at the Liu Family Old Residence."
Scholar Li's expression shifted slightly, and the hand waving his fan paused.
Wang Jin asked cautiously, "Daoist, you've had a long journey. Why not rest for the night and go tomorrow?"
"Let's go tonight."
"Then... would you like something to eat first?"
"We'll eat when we get back."
Wang Jin nodded and stood up. "I'll have someone prepare lanterns right away."