IBGSW Chapter 120
Leaving Baozhi
Hearing that his daughter was tangled up in a ghost case from fifty or sixty years ago, Liu Chunquan's reactions lagged half a beat.
His face stiffened, as if his mind had blanked for a moment.
Since she disappeared, he had resented her, hated her, and pined for her for ten years. All along he had believed she'd run off with some young man and heartlessly abandoned her old father and her mother. He'd never imagined that Zhao Fusheng meant she had been drawn into a malignant ghost case.
His body began to shake uncontrollably, until he could hardly stand.
Zhao Fusheng shot Zheng He a look, signaling him to hold the man up.
Zheng He, annoyed, regretful and frightened all at once, picked Liu Chunquan up like a hawk grabbing a chick, roughly tossed him against the ship's rail, and made him grip it to steady himself. He flatly refused to prop him up.
"W-what connection? What does my Honghong have to do with a ghost case?"
Liu Chunquan kicked his legs, trying to rise. Whether it was the boat rocking on the water or not, his head swam, his legs were jelly with no strength at all, and after several attempts he gave up and slid down against the rail.
Zhao Fusheng hitched up her robe and crouched down too:
"Did you ever sing in the home of a general of the Demon-Suppression Bureau? A Gold General, say?" She all but said it outright, then thought about the timing and ages and changed her question:
"When your old father-in-law was alive, did he ever sing in the home of a Gold General of the Capital Demon-Suppression Bureau?"
"A Gold General?"
Heavens above!
Liu Chunquan shook his head frantically:
"No, no."
Zhao Fusheng didn't believe him:
"Really not?"
"Really not, my lord!"
Hearing she didn't believe him, he panicked and clutched at Zheng He's trousers:
"Lord Zheng, speak up for me! I, I truly haven't—"
"If you haven't, how could your troupe have been marked by a ghost?"
Zhao Fusheng's face went cold:
"Do you think I'm young enough to be fooled?"
"I truly haven't!"
Liu Chunquan cried his innocence at the top of his lungs while pulling hard at Zheng He's trousers:
"Lord Zheng, testify for me—"
"Let go! Let go!"
Caught off guard, Zheng He nearly had his trousers yanked down.
He had no wish to humiliate himself in front of Zhao Fusheng. For a moment he wanted to beat this clueless old fool to death with two punches, but the urgent business was gripping his waistband for dear life so it wouldn't be pulled off.
"Let go!"
"Lord Zheng, testify for me, I've truly never sung in a Gold General's house." Liu Chunquan was in no state to notice Zheng He's face going dark. Terrified Zhao Fusheng would think he was hiding something, he shook the trousers twice.
Rrrip—
The sound of stitching giving way.
Coin-sized brown blotches spread across Zheng He's face, and his ghost aura thickened. In his agitation, even the ghost head that had shrunk into his belly, suppressed by Hell and the Ghost Carriage, seemed ready to revive, prodding at his belly skin, trying to burrow out.
"Let go of me, damn you, my trousers are falling!"
He couldn't take it any longer and kicked Liu Chunquan.
Liu Chunquan yelped in pain, curled into a ball, and finally let go.
Zheng He had saved his dignity, only to find Zhao Fusheng glaring at him:
"Why did you hit him?"
"He, he was pulling my trousers—"
Zheng He was angry, and felt wronged:
"I—"
He gritted his teeth and forced himself to calm down before saying:
"Liu Chunquan is right. His father-in-law couldn't have gone to sing at a Demon-Suppression Bureau general's house."
The Red Spring Opera Troupe had made a decent name in the last couple of years, but what kind of people were the bureau's Gold Generals?
The fiercer a ghost-controller's ghost, the more human feeling they lost.
The great figures of the bureau at Gold General level all controlled ghosts of Calamity-tier or higher. They had long since lost joy and sorrow, and the only thing that kept them in check was the might of the court.
Many of them had lost any desire for food, drink or pleasure, acting on whim and with extreme cruelty.
In other words, they were walking corpses. No matter how famous the Red Spring Opera Troupe was, they couldn't care less.
"I used to be mad about opera. Later—"
Zheng He shook his head.
He wasn't necessarily that fond of opera.
Perhaps after he took on a ghost and began to lose his human feelings, the more he clung to the pursuits of his past, as an obsession proving that some of his humanity remained.
Zhao Fusheng listened, thoughtful.
Zheng He went on:
"To be invited to sing in the bureau would be the highest honor. If he'd really been, everyone under heaven would know."
Liu Chunquan nodded like a pestle pounding garlic:
"Yes, yes, Lord Zheng is right."
"Then that can't be it..."
Having heard them both, Zhao Fusheng had a sense of where things stood, yet felt even more doubtful:
"Is there some other reason?"
Liu Chunquan froze at her words.
With his daughter's whereabouts at stake, he clenched his jaw and thought. Suddenly his eyes lit up:
"We never went into the bureau to sing for any Gold General. But my late father-in-law once said he sang a piece for an official in the Capital."
"My father-in-law had a fine voice when he was alive, famous around our parts for its high, ringing quality. He sang for a court official once and got a tip."
"What was the official's surname?" Zhao Fusheng asked, not expecting much.
Liu Chunquan shook his head, embarrassed:
"I can't remember that either. We had set up a stage in the Capital at the time. My father-in-law said the gentleman was just passing by in a sedan chair and tipped him a tael of silver."
"A tael is no small sum," Zhao Fusheng said.
Liu Chunquan answered without thinking:
"Who says it isn't?" Then he continued:
"When my father-in-law got the tip, he wanted to find out the gentleman's name."
He said:
"In our trade there's a rule: you can't take someone's tip for free. You must sing a proper show for them. That's how the money you earn is honest."
He sighed.
"But in the end it came to nothing. Afterward, some calamity seemed to hit the Capital. There were many more guards in the city and travelers were strictly questioned. My father-in-law was afraid of trouble and hurriedly took the troupe out of the Capital."
"Later this became a knot in his heart. Right up to his death he kept muttering that our troupe owed that gentleman a show."
None of this contained a clear lead.
But decades had passed, conditions were primitive then, and many things were hard to make out now.
The three fell silent for a long while.
Liu Chunquan was uneasy. He looked at Zheng He, whose face was grim, and in the dark his expression was cold, without a trace of warmth, like a ghost standing in the shadows.
He had spent time with Zheng He now, and still wasn't used to that look.
A chill ran through Liu Chunquan, and he turned to look at Zhao Fusheng.
Compared with Zheng He, Zhao Fusheng had far more "human warmth," but to him she was even more of a stranger.
The Red Spring Opera Troupe had a little fame, but to great figures like these that kind of fame was nothing, and they could scatter his troupe with a word.
He was on pins and needles.
But his daughter's disappearance had always been an unsolved mystery in his heart. He'd thought he would never see his beloved daughter again in this life, yet now, unexpectedly, he had heard of her from Zhao Fusheng's mouth. After holding out a while, he could stand it no longer and asked:
"My lord, the ghost case you spoke of—"
"Oh, this case is rather special."
Zhao Fusheng, roused from her thoughts, looked at Liu Chunquan and said deliberately:
"Whether you hear it or merely mention it, you may be marked by the ghost—"
"..."
Zheng He's mouth twitched. Afraid he'd hear the case if he spoke even a moment late, he said:
"My lord, I just remembered something I need to—"
"Don't be in a hurry."
Zhao Fusheng cut him off. Zheng He raged inwardly and wanted to turn on her, but feared her strength, and swallowed his anger:
"I am a bit in a hurry."
Afraid she'd play dumb and not understand, he said it plainly:
"I don't want to hear this ghost case, and I don't want to be marked by a ghost."
Zhao Fusheng stared at him in astonishment, looking utterly incredulous:
"With an attitude like that, how did the court let you run a county?"
She complained:
"I'm risking my neck for the court and haven't seen a coin of its silver. A man like you gets favored by the court. I'd say your Baozhi is far richer than my Wan'an—" The more she thought, the less satisfied she was:
"I solved a ghost case for you this trip. Your salary should come to me."
"..."
Zheng He's mouth twitched.
But money meant nothing to him now. He said generously:
"Take it, my lord. But this ghost case—"
"Whether you listen or not makes no difference. Because of this case, you've been marked already." Hearing him willing to pay, Zhao Fusheng's expression eased, and what she said next left Zheng He staring, unable to speak for some time.
"I'll make it short."
The two men both knew of the Ghost Carriage, and Zheng He was in the register. Zhao Fusheng didn't dither and got straight to the point:
"Decades ago a ghost case happened in the Capital. It should be the beheading case Zheng He mentioned earlier."
As she said it, curiosity stirred in her about the origin of the Headless Ghost. She resolved that afterward she'd have Zheng He compile the case into a dossier, and she'd study it properly.
The Headless Ghost was in the Liu Clan Ancestral Hall now, and sooner or later it would be a menace. To deal with it, she'd first need to understand the ghost's past, then find a way to counter it.
The Investiture of the Gods was only a last resort.
Unlocking an Investiture of the Gods position would invest a ghost as a god in an instant, but the two ghosts in the Liu Clan Ancestral Hall were in balance. Unless Zhao Fusheng could open two divine positions at once, she couldn't invest both together.
And the cost in merit to open divine positions was astronomical.
Apart from the discount she'd gotten the first time, the second position cost 10,000 points of merit. She suspected the third would cost many times more.
After all, now that the second level of Hell was open, the third level of Hell also required 10,000 points of merit.
At that rate her merit was badly insufficient, and most of the time she'd still have to rely on herself.
"Sigh—"
She sighed, her gaze falling on the two tense men before her. She put her stray thoughts aside and focused on the Ghost Carriage case:
"The case I'm going to tell you about isn't that case itself. It's the death of a Gold General that this case brought about—"
As soon as she said this, Zheng He understood what she meant.
"The G-Ghost Carriage—"
At his words, Zhao Fusheng, who until then hadn't been sure that the Ghost Carriage in Wan'an County and in Ding'an Tower was the ghost of a Gold General that had revived decades ago, finally knew for certain.
"So it is," she nodded.
"The ghost this Gold General controlled came with its own great malevolent object, and that object should be a Ghost Carriage."
She looked at Zheng He:
"It seems you knew about this long ago too—"
"It's none of my doing!"
Zheng He protested his innocence:
"Plenty of people in the bureau know about this. But, but nobody in the bureau has ever been marked!"
"Never marked?"
Doubt rose in Zhao Fusheng.
"Right." Zheng He gritted his teeth, steeled himself, and said:
"In the bureau, besides order envoys being entered in the rolls, commanding officers' identity details are the court's core secrets. Each one's birth, origins, the ghost they control and their methods are, by rule, all supposed to be registered and submitted to the Emperor."
At this he gave Zhao Fusheng an odd look, thinking: except for someone like Zhao Fusheng, who'd come up outside the proper channels.
"Some people don't want their secrets known and won't say much, or spout nonsense, but at least on the surface they go through the motions."
Zheng He said:
"Commanding officers with backgrounds or connections can also ask around a little and learn each other's strength and secrets."
And commanding officers were all ghost-controllers; the chance of their ghosts reviving rises with every case they handle. Once one is on the edge of losing control, the court sends someone in advance to take over their post, cleaning up the mess along the way.
"In that situation, my lord, you can see that if merely knowing about it got someone marked, there would be endless chaos."
Zheng He explained:
"So I don't know what the court did, but for anyone in the bureau whose ghost revives, merely hearing about it or mentioning it can't get you marked. Unless, like Wan'an County before, the county government itself has a problem and lets malignant ghosts run wild."
When he finished, Zhao Fusheng felt it was odd too.
If merely mentioning or hearing of a ghost case could get you marked, if you treated that possibility as a kind of contagious curse, then how did the bureau's people escape such a curse?
She was sure it had nothing to do with the Soul-Life Register.
After all, when she met the Ghost Carriage she had been in the soul-life register too, and it hadn't spared her. In the end she'd still boarded the Ghost Carriage.
If entry in the Soul-Life Register couldn't shake off such a curse, the court must have some other means of containing ghost curses. If she ever had the chance, she might visit the Capital and find out.
Liu Chunquan trembled at the words "Gold General" and "Ghost Carriage." His eyes shifted from one to the other. He wanted to ask but dared not interrupt their conversation, and could only sit there anxiously, waiting for them to finish and remember he existed.
Unable to work out the reason, Zhao Fusheng gave up for now and continued:
"After the Ghost Carriage went out of control, it began roaming everywhere. But the ghost driving it holds a register in its hands, and whoever's name is written on it, the ghost drives the carriage to invite them."
"..."
Liu Chunquan's face turned gradually pale.
"My lord, you mean..."
He wasn't stupid.
He remembered ten years ago, his daughter getting into a black carriage in the dead of night. He hadn't understood then, and had thought she'd been bewitched into eloping. Ashamed and furious, he dared tell no one.
Now, from what Zhao Fusheng was saying, it seemed his daughter had really been taken by a malignant ghost.
If so, hadn't he witnessed his daughter's last moments with his own eyes?!
"I saw Liu Honghong's name in the Ghost Carriage's register," Zhao Fusheng said.
She didn't raise her voice, but those two short sentences struck Liu Chunquan's ears like thunder. He sat like a soulless puppet, rooted to the spot, unable to speak for a long time.
A chill went through Zheng He.
Liu Chunquan had indeed told him about this before. By the rule Zhao Fusheng described, he ought to have been marked by the ghost.
But the bureau had an unwritten rule of protection: bureau personnel were never marked just for hearing, seeing or mentioning a case, even when it was a bureau member's ghost that had revived and killed.
In all these years, that rule had never failed.
He had been intensely resistant to the case Zhao Fusheng wanted to discuss, but remembering that rule now, he felt calm.
"Wuuu—my daughter—"
Liu Chunquan finally reacted, and a sudden wail rose over the boat.
It was a cry of utter anguish, like a lone bird that had lost its chick. In the distant cabin, someone poked their head out and looked this way.
Though she felt for him, Zhao Fusheng warned him:
"Keep it down. This can't get out. Don't tell anyone about the Ghost Carriage, or you'll bring disaster on yourselves."
She turned to Zheng He.
Now that he knew it was the Ghost Carriage, the Baozhi commanding officer had relaxed his guard. She gave him a smile and warned him:
"You be careful too."
Zheng He twitched a corner of his mouth:
"Thank you for your concern, my lord, but—"
"No buts."
She cut him off and gave him a long look.
Her gaze unsettled him, and he was about to speak when Zhao Fusheng said:
"On the Ghost Carriage's register, you're next."
"The Ghost Carriage—" Zheng He said with a laugh, and then at last grasped what she meant. His already stiff smile stiffened further, and ghostly energy gathered on his face:
"What do you mean, my lord?"
"Your name is on the Ghost Carriage's register now. You're the next one it's going to take."
In a good mood now, she repeated it.
Zheng He's face changed completely:
"Impossible! Are you joking with me, my lord?!"
"I never joke about ghost cases."
She waved a hand, smiling as she watched him change color:
"But don't worry for now. If you're lucky enough, the Ghost Carriage might not find you before your ghost revives."
She looked meaningfully at Zheng He's chest.
"You've got to be kidding..."
Zheng He's vision went black.
"All right, that's the business done. Go hurry up that river fish."
Her gaze moved into the distance, where she saw a large crowd marching from the direction of Ding'an Tower toward the riverbank, led by the Fan brothers.
Fan Bisi was chatting and laughing with those around him, charming the gentry and wealthy merchants until they were spinning.
Seeing them, and thinking of what she'd gained on this Baozhi trip, Zhao Fusheng felt a surge of satisfaction.
She had resolved the problem of the Zhao couple's reviving ghosts and succeeded in her first investiture, gaining part of the Door Gods' abilities. She still had more than two thousand points of merit.
Besides that, Xu Yachen and the others had donated a lot of gold, enough to rebuild the Demon-Suppression Bureau and the shops around it.
Those shops were now registered under her name. With her presiding at the bureau, land values in the neighborhood would rise sooner or later.
Once she had money, she'd be free to act boldly and give Wan'an County a whole new face!
"..."
Zheng He had no mind to hurry anyone's river fish. He didn't even want to pay attention to the victory banquet.
He racked his brains but couldn't figure out how he had ended up on the ghost's register.
At first he'd suspected she was deliberately scaring him. The Ghost Carriage incident should be known to the bureau's people, especially since it involved Baozhi's Headless Ghost.
She had looked into old cases. It wasn't strange that she knew the Ghost Carriage existed.
But she knew Liu Honghong's name, and that bothered him.
He wanted to ask more, but Zhao Fusheng had turned away, unwilling to discuss the ghost case any further.
Zheng He looked at the dazed Liu Chunquan and was overcome with regret. He wondered whether it was this troupe that had pulled him into such trouble.
His mind was full of questions: where had Zhao Fusheng seen the Ghost Carriage's register? How did she know the Ghost Carriage might not find him?
Most important, was she lying to him?
His expression clouded and cleared by turns, and finally he gritted his teeth and walked off:
"I'll go hurry the river fish."
He couldn't stay in Baozhi. Once this was over, even if reporting to the court brought a death sentence, it was better than waiting in fear for the Ghost Carriage to come. At least he had done the court a service. Before the ghost in him had fully revived, the court would not take his life.
His mind made up, he said no more.
The Red Spring Opera Troupe's people had heard their master wailing and, not knowing why, kept poking their heads out to look.
Zhao Fusheng signaled them to help Liu Chunquan back and comfort him.
A few martial actors came out, nervous in the extreme, and half carried the dazed Liu Chunquan back inside.
Zhao Fusheng stood alone at the rail for a long while, enjoying the rare quiet and solitude.
She didn't know how long it was before the smell of cooked river fish drifted from inside the boat. Fan Bisi came personally to invite her, saying the banquet was ready and only she was awaited.
Several tables had been laid on the Youyuan Boat. She took a quick look and saw that nearly every man of standing among Baozhi's gentry had come, including Xu Yachen, who had promised to move to Wan'an County.
At the head, a large table had been left for her, with only a few chairs set.
Zheng He, who had just learned he was on the Ghost Carriage's register, had shed his look of fear. He forced a smile. Beside him stood a boy, powdered and slicked up, both terrified and thrilled.
Zhao Fusheng took one look, and her face went black.
"W-what's this?"
"Deputy Commander Zheng said you looked a few more times at this Liu Changsheng in the troupe earlier, so he's sent him to pour your wine—" Fan Bisi said.
He saw her face and stopped short.
Zheng He, still in the dark, strode over:
"This way, my lord. This is the one you just—"
"Are you out of your mind? Send him back to wherever you got him!" Zhao Fusheng's face had gone livid.
Zheng He didn't care:
"Don't worry, my lord. People in the troupe are used to it. They keep company wherever they go. It's his honor that you like him—"
Zhao Fusheng wanted to punch him twice. She felt that the reputation she'd built catching ghosts tonight had been ruined in an instant.
The boy looked lost. He could see Zhao Fusheng's displeasure, but had no idea what he'd done wrong, and was afraid.
Zhao Fusheng glared coldly at Zheng He.
She didn't dismiss the boy immediately. She sat down at the head table, and when the guests toasted her, the boy blocked every cup. The mood grew gradually livelier.
With Baozhi's crisis over, the people there were extremely fervent toward Zhao Fusheng, and kept heaping praise on her with every toast.
She soon put aside the unpleasantness of this unexpected episode and gave her full attention to enjoying the night's feast.
Halfway through the banquet the stage was ready, and the troupe took the boards in full costume.
The Red Spring Opera Troupe's Little Bailing truly had a beautiful figure and a lovely singing style. When she opened her voice, it was sweet and lilting, yet piercingly clear. The moment she took the stage the noisy cabin went quiet for a while, and even Zhao Fusheng looked appreciative.
...
The victory banquet lasted more than four hours. Only when Zhao Fusheng said she was returning to Ding'an Tower did the guests rise and take their leave one by one.
She sent the troupe's boy away, told Zheng He to arrange lodging for the Fan brothers elsewhere, and returned to Ding'an Tower alone.
The Ghost Carriage was still in the tower.
Without the Golden Bell to guide it, it had fallen into a kind of stalled state and no longer moved.
The ghost still sat in front of the carriage, and the ghost horse was as quiet as a statue.
The black coffin behind the carriage was shut tight, firmly suppressing the ghost within.
Most people would have been scared out of their wits at the sight.
But Zhao Fusheng was not most people. Having confirmed the Ghost Carriage could not harm her for now, she treated it as a peculiar "roommate."
She washed her face quickly, blew out the lamp, and lay on the bed with her eyes closed to rest.
Although she knew the Ghost Carriage was in a special state, she still didn't dare be careless.
She didn't truly sleep all night, and only when day broke did she let out a breath of relief.
That morning, the group was to set out for Wan'an County. At the foot of Ding'an Tower, the Fan brothers, Zheng He and several Baozhi order envoys, Gu Jiansheng among them, had all arrived.
When Zhao Fusheng came downstairs, the carriage for the return trip was ready.
There was another carriage besides, which Zheng He had prepared.
Seeing her, Fan Bisi greeted her:
"Good morning, my lord."
He thought she looked a bit off.
The case had ended last night, but she looked as if she hadn't slept a wink.
Her eyes were red with dark shadows beneath, and when he greeted her, she yawned.
"Ready?" she asked.
Fan Bisi nodded:
"Ready. One carriage is for us. The other is the one Deputy Commander Zheng prepared. It holds nine thousand taels of gold, plus some jewels and treasures." He explained:
"And the gold promised by Xu Yachen and the others will be delivered to the Wan'an Demon-Suppression Bureau bit by bit later."
Hearing this, Zhao Fusheng nodded in satisfaction.
"Why not stay a couple more days, my lord, and let me do the host's duty again?"
Seeing her appear, Zheng He hurried over.
He hadn't slept well either. The coin-sized spots on his face looked more obvious, and the ghost aura in him was stirring, a sign that he was in poor shape.
Their eyes met, and Zhao Fusheng felt something. She shook her head:
"No. After I go, there are a few things I need to tell you."
Zheng He was taken aback, then smiled:
"Please, my lord."
"First, after I leave you must not go into Ding'an Tower again. Not only you. It would be best to seal it up so nobody can wander in."
Her words left Zheng He baffled, but ghost-controllers have odd tempers, and the stronger they are, the more pomp they have. Anyway the place was the Prince of Chu's private property; if no one was to go in, no one would. With her say-so, surely no one would dare object for now.
He nodded.
"And?"
"Keep a close eye on the Red Spring Opera Troupe for me. I feel there's something wrong with them—"
When she finished, Zheng He did not nod so readily. A hint of reluctance showed on his face:
"That's—"
Zhao Fusheng looked at him and suddenly asked:
"Your ghost isn't far from reviving, is it?"
It was no secret.
Zheng He had controlled his ghost for over three years, which made him a veteran ghost-controller by the standard of the entire Great Han.
He had been in Baozhi for over two years. On the court's orders a year ago, he had personally "sent off" the previous commanding officer, and he had been Deputy Commander of Baozhi ever since.
Last year he had handled three ghost cases to complete his quota, and this year he had held off, with no case closed. Anyone could see he was at the end of his rope and didn't have long.
"True."
Zheng He admitted it frankly:
"I can last until the end of this year at most."
