Encountering a Ghost

Jiang She and the others looked over.

The post station had quite a few people. There was a merchant caravan with goods loaded on carts, and two scholars sitting together with them—likely attached to the caravan for safety on the road. There was even a shaven-headed monk in robes, head bowed, waiting for his meal.

The horses needed fodder, which cost extra.

If an official had come, their attendants would fall within the quota, and the court would cover the expense. Li Bai didn't care about the silver, so while Mr. Jiang went to the stables to check on the horses, he had a servant lift a string of coins from a chest and hand it to the station attendant.

"Any private rooms available?"

The young attendant sized them up—richly dressed, traveling on horseback with so many chests in tow.

With money in hand, he grew a touch more respectful and said, "There are three... two private rooms left."

Li Bai exchanged a glance with Yuan Danqiu.

Making small talk, he said, "Then we'll take the private rooms. One room for each of the rest. Good food and good wine—will this be enough?"

"Enough, enough..."

Yuan Danqiu, in his Daoist robe, asked, "Host, you said three rooms just now. Why did you suddenly change it to two?"

The attendant glanced at his clothes.

He hesitated.

He didn't want to offend these guests. Most station attendants were mixed-register households or frontier post staff; aside from the station chief, who got a subsidy, the rest earned no wages. Their yearly income mostly came from lodging commoners and traveling merchants, plus tips from passersby. Making money was no easy task.

And these guests were generous spenders.

The attendant stared at Yuan Danqiu's Daoist robe.

After a moment's thought, he lowered his voice and said, "I'll tell you in confidence, guest—please don't spread it around."

"I don't want to hide it from you, either. In this station, there's always been talk of strange noises, like haunting. That room—the one at the far end, a private room—has been sealed off. No one's allowed to stay there anymore."

Yuan Danqiu was puzzled.

"Then why did you say there were three private rooms at first? This isn't the first time it's been haunted, is it?"

The attendant looked embarrassed.

"Private rooms cost more than the others..."

As he spoke, he quickly apologized, begging these honored guests not to take offense.

He added a few muttered words—the haunted private room was at the very end. If the guests heard any noises at night, it wouldn't matter much, but they shouldn't go out, to avoid offending anything.

Yuan Danqiu was momentarily speechless, not expecting the reason to be the higher price of the private rooms.

In the end, they settled on two rooms. At least the attendants had some conscience left.

Jiang She returned, and Yuan Danqiu shared the news with everyone at the dinner table.

As he spoke, he glanced at Li Bai, knowing the fellow could now see things others couldn't, and urged him to go check it out together at night.

Jiang She looked down at the cat eating meat.

The cat had slept all day but perked up at night. Bold, it tried to climb onto the table, eyes fixed on the fish dish, feline gaze unwavering.

The fish was bigger than the cat.

At the next table, a traveling merchant found it odd that someone would bring a cat on the road and stared a few times. Seeing the cat fixated on the fish, almost ready to pounce, they all laughed.

"That cat's fierce!"

"It's traveled more than my son."

"How old is it? Two months? Looks so small, but greedy... Ooh! And a bit mean—it'll be a great mouser for sure."

Jiang She gently pressed the cat's head down, moving it away from the fish.

The Old Deer Mountain God watched from the side, unable to help stroking his beard with a faint smile.

It had been a hundred or two hundred years since he last sat in a post station inn, eating and laughing with people. The experience felt fresh. His hair and beard were pure white, his every move trembling and unsteady, drawing attention from others—even the most boisterous of the traveling merchants showed him great respect.

Jiang She asked, "I hear there's a haunting here? What's the story?"

The traveling merchant's smile faded as he spoke of the station's ghostly affairs. He frowned, fear rising in his heart.

"I only heard about it after arriving. I asked around, but those attendants hemmed and hawed, never really explaining what happened."

He cursed under his breath.

"Once tonight's over, we're leaving. If I'd known, I'd have pushed on another ten li—there's another inn ahead..."

Jiang She could see the group deeply regretted their choice.

He asked, "I heard them mention someone named Wang San. He suddenly went mad these past two years?"

Li Bai, holding his wine cup, raised an eyebrow slightly at this.

The merchant asked, "Is Wang San the previous courier at this post station?"

"No, I heard he was a butcher, good at slaughtering pigs."

"Then I wouldn't know—there are plenty of Wangs under heaven, and even more who are the third son. I'll help you ask around later."

The merchant lowered his head to eat, then spoke to the person beside him, complaining that the scholar they'd picked up during the day had wasted time, preventing them from reaching the next place earlier. Otherwise, they'd rather sleep in the wilderness than stay in this haunted spot.

As they talked, the merchants glanced at Yuan Danqiu in his Daoist robe.

Then they glanced at the monk quietly eating in the room.

Harboring a faint hope.

Staying in the same place as these two—a Buddhist and a Daoist—should be safe, right...

None of them knew that a true divine being was in this very room.

When the station attendant brought out the dishes, he overheard these words. He turned back and slipped into the kitchen, his heart flustered, and conferred with the others.

"They know this place is haunted. What do we do?"

The middle-aged attendant listened to the voices in the main hall, then withdrew his gaze. "Turn a blind eye."

"Huh?"

"The money's already been paid. You think they'll run?" The middle-aged courier laughed. "There's no post station under heaven that refunds money! If they dare ask us for a refund, the laws of the Great Tang will deal with them."

The younger attendant asked, "And if they run tonight?"

"The money's already collected. Whether they run or not, that's fewer people to serve."

The young attendant was convinced. Old Zhou truly was a veteran—steady and unflappable in the face of trouble.

It seemed he still had much to learn.

At that moment, outside the kitchen.

The Old Deer Mountain God looked at Jiang She, took a sip of the sour, unrefined wine, and smiled.

"These mortals are quite amusing."

"They each have their own way of surviving," Jiang She said.

He lowered his head, stroked the cat that still wanted more fish, and used clean chopsticks to give it another piece, placing it in the cat's own bowl.

The cat ate while purring softly.

Contrary to what the station attendants thought, Jiang She's group could have come or not. It was only upon hearing that this place was haunted that they found it interesting and decided to come take a look.

As for merchants, what they valued most was money. The traveling merchants had already paid, so tonight they certainly wouldn't bear to leave.

The next inn was ten li away, and the two scholars lacked courage, so naturally they wouldn't dare travel alone in the dead of night.

The sky gradually darkened. Clouds hung low, and the wind rustled through the forest, making a faint, whispering sound.

Two station attendants stood together, lighting lanterns at the door.

They looked outside, saw no one coming, closed the main gate, and dropped the bolt.

Today they'd encountered generous guests and earned a string of cash. After deducting the cost of food and lodging, there was still plenty left. For once, they didn't begrudge the expense, lighting lamps and candles indoors.

The candlelight flickered gently in the wind.

Glimmering faintly, brightening and dimming by turns.

Everyone finished their evening meal. The table was a mess, and for some reason, not a single person who had eaten in the main hall left.

The monk was reading a book.

The two scholars sat together, pressed close, leaning on each other, afraid that some ghostly wind might creep in.

The largest group, the traveling merchants, spoke in increasingly low voices. They picked at the leftover scraps with their chopsticks, sending mouthful after tasteless mouthful down their throats, occasionally drinking a few sips of wine.

To drive away the chill in their hearts.

The main hall where they ate was the most crowded place. Once they returned to their rooms, they'd be separated.

Jiang She observed the merchants, watching their expressions grow uglier by the moment.

Li Bai, always bold, held his wine cup and surveyed his surroundings.

Yuan Danqiu lowered his voice.

"So, what do you see?"