Wang Wei

The sinister wind grew stronger, and everyone was terrified, moving even farther from that table.

Some even called out to Li Bai and the Old Deer Mountain God and his companions, "What are you still doing here? That man has angered the ghost!"

"Go, go!"

"Tsk! Can't even run properly... Old sir, you must leave quickly! Flee for your lives!"

Seeing they couldn't persuade that table's occupants, the other guests had no time to dwell on their questions. They all fled for their lives, some hiding under tables, some pressing close to the monk, others ducking into the kitchen to huddle with the couriers, tears and snot mingling in a mess, feeling as if they had narrowly escaped death.

Inside the main hall.

The ghost also looked over, its speech no longer gentle and soft as before—its ghostly words were harsh and grating.

At the table, the Old Deer Mountain God stroked his beard and smiled.

"This gentleman is so mischievous. The ghost still thought it could become human."

The people hiding in the hall were startled by these words.

Who were these people? From start to finish, they showed no fear at all, watching the ghostly apparition before them while still chatting and laughing freely, drinking as usual.

They were likely no ordinary folk.

"Dead and bearing resentment, it should be a malevolent ghost." They heard the man in blue speak, his gaze sweeping the surroundings. "Its burial place must be right here at this post station."

"The gentleman is correct."

That old man, ancient with white hair and beard, actually agreed.

"People die and become ghosts. Ghosts are inherently weaker than humans by nature. I wonder how it died, to harbor such great resentment."

The merchant hid under the table, listening intently.

He vaguely realized that he had likely encountered extraordinary people tonight. They spoke of malevolent ghosts with calm expressions and no trace of fear on their faces.

These must be true adepts of the Way.

Immortals among men.

The merchant wanted to crawl out from under the table, but he was also afraid of being seen by the ghost. His courage faltered even as curiosity stirred, leaving him curled up in an awkward position, continuing to listen to the commotion in the room.

He heard the ghost's low muttering, its laughter like weeping, as if it had grown angry.

The sinister wind felt like boiling water poured down his back.

The merchant immediately shrank his head.

He heard the man express slight surprise, followed by a sharp, piercing shriek—like a thousand night owls having their eyes gouged out at once, ear-splitting and terrifying, stirring fear in everyone's hearts.

Roof tiles rattled. Everyone hid.

After a few breaths, it finally stopped.

They heard the man in blue speak, his tone flat, as if he had done something trivial.

"Everyone, come out."

"It took some time to lure it out earlier. After tonight, there will be no more hauntings here."

The merchant didn't dare move much either—the ghost was truly too terrifying. Only when others trickled out one by one did he crawl out from under the table with difficulty. His legs were numb, trembling unsteadily.

When the candles were relit, everyone saw the state of the main hall.

For a moment, they were speechless.

The floor was a mess—many cups, plates, and bowls were broken, a wine jug had been knocked over, the ghost was nowhere to be seen, and only a scholar lay unconscious on the ground, his chest rising and falling faintly.

No one knew how fiercely the vengeful spirit had struggled.

The merchant made a deep bow to Jiang She: "Thank you, exalted one... If not for you, I would likely have been devoured by the vengeful ghost tonight."

The others also paid their respects to Jiang She.

Seeing that it was safe, the couriers came out from hiding in the kitchen.

The crowd was full of grievances. Some wanted to confront them—they had nearly died in this post station, and the couriers hadn't even warned them properly, just saving their own skins.

Fists and feet flew.

Jiang She withdrew his gaze and picked up the upper-room key he had bought earlier from the table.

"The matter is settled for tonight. Everyone, go to sleep."

Before leaving, Jiang She saw the monk press his palms together and bow to him.

Jiang She took one upper room, the Old Deer Mountain God took one, Yuan Danqiu and Li Bai shared one, and the two servants slept in the common bunk, relieving the fatigue of the journey.

The next morning.

After a night's rest, the guests who had come to stay had shed their fear, leaving only wonder behind.

The merchants, who usually prized efficiency in transporting goods, sat leisurely at the tables today, slowly sipping millet porridge and leek dumplings, picking at pickled vegetables with their chopsticks, chatting idly among themselves. They showed no sign of hurry at all.

As if they were waiting for something.

Until the hour of Mao, when they saw the man in blue emerge, surrounded by others, with the cat still cradled in his arms.

Everyone suddenly became enthusiastic.

The merchant quickly stepped forward: "Last night, thank you, sir..."

He bowed and had people bring out the prepared gifts of thanks, saying, "This Humble One deals in cloth and fabric, possessing nothing of value, only these materials can express my gratitude."

A heavy chest of fine silk was carried over.

"Though they are mere worldly possessions, please accept them, exalted one!"

Seeing one person take the lead, others chimed in.

"Exactly, I nearly lost my life. That ghost last night was fierce—must have been a vengeful spirit, definitely a vengeful spirit!"

"How did they die? Such heavy resentment."

Jiang She listened politely, then looked at the courier and beckoned him over.

The courier, still shaken and frightened from last night, saw that the exalted one had subdued the troublesome ghost and resolved a great worry, so he complied with everything.

"Could you take me to see the sealed upper room?"

The courier's heart suddenly trembled.

The upper room was a separate courtyard, covered in a layer of dust. These couriers rarely came to clean, but it had clearly been tidied—no bloodstains, only an unpleasant smell.

Li Bai followed behind, looked around, and pointed at a spot near a tree by the courtyard wall.

"It should be here."

The couriers looked at Jiang She.

Jiang She nodded, and only then did the men move, using shovels and picks to dig.

The cat watched these people turn the soil with shovels, curious, its paws flexing as if it wanted to dig too. Jiang She picked it up and held it.

Two quarters of an hour later.

They finally stopped.

"There really is a corpse..."

"Hah, the flesh is rotting," the courier frowned, covering his mouth and nose, wanting to vomit. "How long has this been dead?"

"These clothes look familiar..."

Jiang She watched as they unearthed the corpse. All the couriers at the station gathered around, both afraid and curious, all staring.

Suddenly someone recognized it: "Isn't this the butcher's wife? How did she end up buried here..."

The dead woman was none other than Wang San the butcher's wife, with knife wounds on her body. No one knew what had happened. The couriers who recognized her muttered among themselves, thinking of Wang San, now half-mad, and his butchering skills—a chill rose in their hearts.

The couriers looked at the exalted one.

Jiang She had no intention of meddling in these matters.

He said, "Report this to the authorities. Let the yamen decide."

Now that the sun was high in the morning sky, under the reluctant gazes of the crowd, Jiang She and his group resumed their journey. The monk Zhiyuan seemed to want to speak but held back, finally watching the carriage slowly depart.

The couriers no longer dared to charge for lodging and returned all the fees.

Li Bai looked at the Old Deer Mountain God. He remembered that the Deer Mountain God was the deity of Lumen Mountain.

He probably couldn't travel far, right?

The Old Deer Mountain God looked at Jiang She.

He smiled and said, "This minor deity will see you a little further, sir."

As they spoke, they saw another carriage hurrying past from the opposite direction. Judging by its decoration, it belonged to a great noble family.

Who could it be, rushing so urgently for what purpose?

By evening, after rushing all the way, they barely made it into the city before the gates closed.

A carriage arrived at Lu Xiang's doorstep.

Lu Xiang was puzzled, wondering what this friend, covered in dust from the road, had come for. He personally welcomed him, ordering servants to fetch clean clothes and the kitchen to bring food immediately.

"Mojie, what is this..."

"I received your letter and came in haste."

The young man, having traveled in a hurry, was attended by servants as he washed his face with a cloth. Youthful and fair, with graceful bearing. He wore wide-sleeved robes, like fresh rain in an empty mountain, the image of a white-robed scholar, extraordinary in demeanor.

He asked:

"Where does that immortal reside?"

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