Demon and Ghost Rumors

Hong Yuan and his four companions skirted the running crowd and slipped into the trees. Under cover of darkness, they silently passed the front row of houses.

Only the row nearest the manor remained intact, apparently renovated to make it habitable. The farther out they went, the more deserted and ruined everything became.

Mud walls and tiled roofs had collapsed in great swathes. Rubble lay everywhere.

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Beneath weeds and trees, they could still make out mottled bluestone paths branching in every direction, telling of the bustle this place had once known.

As they passed a stone wall that had mostly collapsed, they saw heaps of ruins beyond it. The site was substantial; a workshop must once have stood there. Hong Yuan could still detect a faint, lingering odor.

After a moment's thought, he recognized the smell of tung oil.

They followed the moonlight for nearly a mile. The rush and roar of water reached their ears, and a great river surged ahead. Once they were sure no enemies had followed, all four conscious members of the group breathed easier. Master Qin, carried by the man in black, was completely unconscious.

"Wutong Town!" Only then did Yang Lie turn to look back at the flames and answer Hong Yuan's earlier question.

Hong Yuan paused, puzzled. Yang Lie smiled. "You're still young, Brother Hong. It's no surprise you haven't heard of this place."

They kept walking. Hong Yuan followed the man surnamed Wu and the man in black toward the riverbank, listening as Yang Lie explained.

Wutong Town lay about twenty miles southeast of Qingxu County's county seat, nestled among mountains beside the Yudai River, which crossed three provinces and dozens of prefectures and counties.

Tung trees covered the surrounding hills. Most townspeople made their living processing tung oil, and workshops sprang up everywhere. The oil was plentiful and fine, drawing merchants in droves. At its height, the town controlled nearly seventy percent of Linjiang Prefecture's tung oil trade.

Wutong Town had prospered as a result.

But the good times did not last. A little over a decade ago, disaster suddenly struck. Some said it was a struggle for power and an uneven division of spoils; others blamed plague or bandits. There were even rumors of demons and ghosts. Whatever the cause, the thriving town fell into ruin within six months. Its people abandoned their homes and livelihoods and fled in every direction.

Officials later moved people in several times, hoping to restart oil production. None stayed long. The new households fled one after another. Even when soldiers held blades to them and they gave in, they later chose to vanish into the mountains and live as wild men instead.

In time, the town was abandoned entirely, and even the government could only give up on it. The rumors grew stranger, until people began calling it Ghost Town.

Hong Yuan understood.

This body was only eighteen. It was no wonder he had never heard of Wutong Town, but the name Ghost Town was etched in his memories. Whenever "he" had misbehaved as a child and refused to study, his father had threatened that demons would carry him off to Ghost Town if he did not listen.

"Are there really demons and ghosts in this world?" Hong Yuan asked curiously.

"The world is vast; there's no end to its wonders." The man surnamed Wu strode along. "I heard some strange tales in the army, but most were hearsay. There was no way to tell whether they were true. If such creatures really exist, I'd like to see them for myself."

His hand rested on his sword hilt, and he looked ready for a fight.

"I haven't yet asked your name, sir, or this... elder's." Hong Yuan cupped his hands and glanced hesitantly at the man in black. The covered face plainly showed he wished to conceal his identity, though his voice sounded older.

"No need for 'sir.' My surname is Wu. Wu Duxiong."

Wu Duxiong suddenly stopped. A proud grin spread across his stern face. "My late father paid an old scholar to give me that name. I've always liked it."

He chuckled and raised his brows at the man in black. "Old Yang's name doesn't come close. Old Yang, quit playing the mute gourd. He asked you a question. And why are you still wearing that scarf? Are you some sheltered young lady, too shy to show your face?"

The man in black shot him an annoyed look and pulled down his scarf, revealing a square, bearded face with bronze skin. He looked about fifty. "This old man is Yang Erhu," he told Hong Yuan with a nod.

"Elder Yang." Hong Yuan bowed solemnly again. "Thank you both, and Brother Yang, for saving me. Without the three of you, I doubt I would have escaped that den of devils tonight."

"We happened to be there, that's all. We had our own plans. We weren't trying to rescue anyone, so don't thank me. Thank Heaven!" Wu Duxiong shook his head.

Hong Yuan opened his mouth, but Wu Duxiong waved him off. "Enough. Why fuss over it? No need to call us elders, either. I like you, kid. First, you had the courage to act. Second, you're young, but you can handle yourself. And, of course..."

"Most importantly, you look exactly like I did when I was young. 'Similar' doesn't begin to cover it."

Hong Yuan opened his mouth, then decided to say nothing.

Yang Lie looked at Hong Yuan's striking features, then at Wu Duxiong's long horse face. They say a man can't see his own ugliness, and a horse can't see how long its face is. Now I believe it.

He nearly laughed aloud and hurriedly lowered his head to hold it in.

Smack! A large hand struck the back of his head, making it ache. Yang Lie looked up. Wu Duxiong had leaned close, his gaze sharp. "Something you want to say?"

"No!"

"Then keep it in."

Wu Duxiong flicked Yang Lie's forehead for good measure. Yang Lie grimaced in pain. Beside them, Yang Erhu said flatly, "He wanted to say a man can't see his own ugliness, and a horse can't see how long its face is."

"Hm?"

Wu Duxiong raised a sword-like brow, his look unfriendly.

Yang Erhu kept walking without looking at him. "If you hit me, I'll hit back."

"Let's spar when we get home," Wu Duxiong suggested.

Yang Erhu paused, then nodded slowly. "All right. It has been years since we brothers last crossed hands. Let me see how far you've come."

Hong Yuan watched with a smile. Wu Duxiong turned to him again. "Where do you live, kid?"

Before Hong Yuan could answer, he went on. "Wherever it is, you can't go back now. Do you still have family there? That could complicate things."

"He certainly can't go back," Yang Lie said with a chuckle. "That good brother of yours signed some blasted Immortal-Mortal Contract for you—really a deed selling you into servitude—and made you press your fingerprint on it. If you go home and that fat pig remembers you, he won't even have to lift a finger. One trip to the yamen with the contract, and the officials will come arrest you."

Hong Yuan's eyes turned cold.

He thought again of that fat Huang fellow with his honest-looking face, his former classmate and friend. He would settle that score, whether to vent his own anger or to resolve the former owner's lingering ties. One way or another, he would pay the Huang Family a visit.

But the Huang Family wielded considerable influence in Qingxu County. Any move against them would take planning. At the very least, he needed to understand this world better and grow stronger first.

"I live in Qingxu County's county seat. My parents have both passed away. My father was a scholar and left behind some money, fields, and a two-courtyard house..."

Hong Yuan did not need to give so much detail, but he had an inkling of Wu Duxiong's intentions. He chose to explain his circumstances plainly. He had nothing to hide.

"My father died a few years ago. I was still studying at the academy then, and my work was passable, so I managed to keep the family property. Once the Imperial Court abolished the Civil Service Examinations, there was no place for a student like me. I could fend off the people eyeing my property, until the yamen runners came demanding taxes and labor service. They even wanted back payments for several previous years..."

He sighed. "In the end, I had to give up everything to keep myself safe. All I have left in the county seat are two tiled rooms in Flagstone Alley. I do have a second uncle, but my father broke off contact with him while he was alive..."

Hong Yuan had not told them everything.

His second uncle truly had not gotten along with his father. His father was a scholar, while his second uncle was obsessed with martial arts. Proud of belonging to a family of learning, his father had looked down on his uncle as an uneducated wastrel.

His uncle spent years away from home. In the few memories Hong Yuan had of his visits, he and his father had quarreled bitterly before parting on bad terms.

But after the examinations were abolished, Hong Yuan had "only" lost his fields, wealth, and two-courtyard house, yet kept two tiled rooms to live in. His mysterious uncle had helped him behind the scenes.

The former owner had been a frail scholar, not the newly upgraded cheat-wielding version Hong Yuan was now. Without someone protecting him, he would have been devoured down to the bone.

For one thing, his exceptional looks alone were enough to invite trouble.

Hong Yuan remembered once nearly having a sack thrown over his head. The next morning, several thugs with broken arms and legs had lain bloodied in the alley, begging for mercy when they saw him.

At noon, his second uncle had brought more than a dozen burly men into Flagstone Alley. They stood at the door while his uncle spent an hour inside with him, left him some silver, and departed.

In truth, they had exchanged only a few idle words before sitting across from each other in silence. Hong Yuan understood that his uncle had come to warn off anyone who might reach for him.

He had shown them Hong Yuan was not alone and helpless.

His uncle had roamed the martial world for years and knew its ways. He could intimidate both the lawful and the lawless in the county seat, so he must have some influence. There was little need to worry about implicating him for now.

But that damned fat pig had seemed close to madness. Hong Yuan could not judge him by ordinary standards. He still needed to grow stronger as soon as possible.

Wu Duxiong nodded. The boy had a clean background, a straightforward history, no dependents, and excellent Root Bone. The more he looked, the more he liked him. "In that case, come with us. I wasn't joking when I said I liked you. If you don't mind, stop calling us elders. Call us Uncle, like Yang Lie does."

"Sorry for the trouble, Uncle Wu, Uncle Yang."

Hong Yuan took the opening at once.

He had nowhere else to go for now. Besides, Wu Duxiong and Yang Erhu seemed knowledgeable, and one of them came from the Prefectural City's White Scale Guard. He could learn much by staying with them.

"Don't call it trouble!" Wu Duxiong laughed, plainly pleased, and patted Hong Yuan's shoulder.

Talking as they went, the group soon reached the Yudai River. Wu Duxiong leaped into a thicket by the water and brushed dead branches and leaves off a small covered boat hidden beneath them.

Yang Lie hurried over. Standing on either side, the two men tensed their arms and pushed the boat into the river.

Yang Lie took an oar and stood at the bow to hold the boat steady. Once everyone was aboard, he shoved hard against the bank. The boat rocked, then glided steadily across the water.

Yang Erhu carried Master Qin into the cabin and propped him up to rest. He lit an oil lamp. In its dim yellow glow, Master Qin remained unconscious, muttering an occasional fragment of nonsense. Yang Erhu sighed.

Wu Duxiong entered the cabin too, produced a flask of wine from somewhere, and drank deeply.

Hong Yuan took his place beside Yang Lie at the bow and found another oar. In his previous life, a river about thirty feet wide had run past his childhood home. Before a bridge and road were built, crossing it meant rowing a boat. With his strengthened body, the work came even more easily.

Splash! Splash!

The oars swept through the water, lifting clear ripples as the boat moved out.

The moon hung high, casting silver light that made the river just visible. Even with his Clear Eyes Through the Nether talent, Hong Yuan could see clearly only a few yards ahead at night. Farther away, everything remained blurred.

For safety, they kept close to shore in the darkness, almost hugging the bank where the current ran gently. Going downstream made the ride smooth.

Hong Yuan and Yang Lie barely needed to row.

Yang Lie told him their destination was Yangquan County, next to Qingxu County. But night had fallen and the county gates were already shut, so they would spend the night in a town a dozen miles downstream.

"That den of vice Wei Zhenzhu built in abandoned Wutong Town couldn't have gone up overnight."

In the cabin, firelight flickered inside the lamp as Wu Duxiong and Yang Erhu returned to talking about Wutong Town and the so-called Jade Wutong Immortal Realm.

"Even if she took three years to build it and spent three years enjoying it, that's only six years."

Wu Duxiong swallowed a mouthful of wine, closed his eyes to savor it, then said slowly, "The tales of plague, bandits, and demons go back more than a decade. But Wei Zhenzhu and her people have been fine. Even if some demon really did haunt Wutong Town, it must have left at least ten years ago."

Yang Erhu nodded and sighed. "Good people die young, while scourges live a thousand years."

He grew thoughtful. After a moment, he said, "That row of houses outside the manor was renovated. Do you think Wei Zhenzhu wants to reopen the tung oil workshops?"

"The tung oil trade is a great slab of fat meat. If she saw a chance, she'd certainly try." Wu Duxiong smiled. "But rebuilding workshops and finding skilled oil workers—even those basics are beyond that damned fat pig. She can't do it."

"She can't. The Wei Family can."

"The Wei Family is the Wei Family, and Wei Zhenzhu is Wei Zhenzhu. Don't lump them together." Wu Duxiong shook his head with a sneer. "A monster like her disgraced the Wei Family in the Prefectural City long ago. They haven't let her enter the city for years. Why would they help her?"

"Don't forget Wei Zhenzhu's husband..." Yang Erhu tapped the small table holding the lamp, his meaning clear.

"The Salt and Iron Judge?!" Wu Duxiong's expression grew grave.

Zhou Wenjie, Linjiang Prefecture's Salt and Iron Judge, was only an eighth-rank official. But he had been appointed directly by the province, giving him considerable power despite his low rank. He could inspect salt, iron, and tea taxes throughout Linjiang Prefecture.

The forces under Zhou Wenjie were formidable. In the open, he commanded two hundred elite men of the Smuggling Suppression Battalion and five hundred able-bodied salt workers. No one knew how many factions he had tied to himself in secret, or how many so-called "heroes of the martial world" he had gathered.

The strongmen guarding Wei Zhenzhu's manor had probably been drawn from the salt workers!

"I haven't admired many people, but Judge Zhou Wenjie has my admiration down to all five limbs on the ground," Wu Duxiong said. "They say he was born to a farming family and latched onto the Wei Family to climb the ranks. Tsk! He actually stayed married to that damned fat pig for decades! How did he bear it?"

"Don't put it that way. I heard Wei Zhenzhu was a beauty when she was young. She only kept getting fatter after she fell ill..." Yang Erhu could not go on. Merely thinking of Wei Zhenzhu made his stomach churn. He nodded. "You're right. Zhou Wenjie is remarkable. A truly remarkable man!"

"Have you identified the other six women?" Wu Duxiong asked.

"I know who Lady Xuansu is!" Yang Erhu said.

"The one who ascended to immortality?" Wu Duxiong smiled.

Yang Erhu snorted. "Immortality? She's the head wife of the Chen Family in Yuxi Town. Nearly eighty percent of the businesses there belong to her family. Too bad Wei Zhenzhu's lot don't just feed on outsiders; they devour their own as well. Once she joined them, they slowly cracked her bones and sucked out the marrow. When there's nothing left, her whole family can 'ascend.'"

"The other women include officials' wives, daughters and ladies kept secluded in wealthy households, and nuns from the mountains..."

Wu Duxiong stared. After a long moment, he sighed. "Those women know how to enjoy themselves."

"It isn't the women. It's their lords who know how to enjoy themselves," Yang Erhu said.

"Great Yin has its own ways. With customs like these, what can anyone do?" Wu Duxiong sighed.

Great Yin had ruled the realm for nearly eight hundred years. Its rises and declines were nothing unusual. Whenever it faltered, a mighty ruler emerged to turn the tide. No sooner was the dynasty secure again than some bizarre emperor would take the throne.

Three hundred years ago, Emperor Changle of Great Yin had been capricious and prone to absurd antics. He took both men and women as lovers. He even summoned consorts to the main hall for revelry while discussing state affairs with his ministers, letting them watch and learn. Far from feeling ashamed, he was proud of it.

Of course, Great Yin's corrupt customs could not all be laid at Emperor Changle's feet. Who knew how many bizarre emperors before him had pulled stunts no less outrageous?

"You can't go back to the White Scale Guard, can you?"

"The White Scale Guard has long since been infiltrated until it's more sieve than shield. Who knows how many families have planted their sons and nephews there? It isn't nearly as capable in a fight as outsiders think. I've had enough of taking their crap. Now that I've offended Wei Zhenzhu, I might as well roam the martial world as a wandering swordsman..."

"Then why not help me..."

Wu Duxiong raised a hand to cut him off. "I know what you're going to say. But I've already picked the best person for you..." He flicked his eyes toward the cabin's exterior.

Is he going to take me as his disciple, or what...? Hong Yuan grumbled inwardly, though he did not mind.

A man's thinking had to fit his circumstances. Right now, he wanted Wu Duxiong and Yang Erhu to help him find his footing in this world. Becoming someone's disciple would be no hardship.

Hong Yuan's gaze shifted. At a thought, tiny floating characters appeared before his eyes again.

Blessed Land Dao Lord? Hong Yuan murmured. He watched the characters become a vortex that drew everything toward it and badly wanted to enter. In the end, he held back. There were others on the boat. If the vortex swallowed him whole, how would he explain it?

Just hold on a little longer...