IBGSW Chapter 149
When Feelings Run Deep
Zhang Chuanshi sat in the carriage with his legs clamped together, not daring to breathe, staring at Zhuang Laoqi across from him.
Ordinarily the old man was a coward who loved money and hated work, and the moment anyone told him to do something he'd devise every excuse to dodge it.
But hearing Zhao Fusheng tell him to drive, he lit up with joy as if a blessing had fallen from heaven, and in his delight he stood:
"I knew Your Honor would look out for me."
He ducked, squeezed out of the carriage, and settled firmly on the driver's seat.
Zhao Fusheng climbed into the carriage too.
Everyone inside turned to look at her. The compartment carried a faint smell of corpse mixed with the stench of stagnant water.
It was stuffy and damp, like the edge of a pond on a midsummer night, an atmosphere that made people uneasy.
Since the bureau had gotten on track, the carriage had been remodeled several times and could now hold at least ten people.
Seats ran along both sides, and with unspoken agreement everyone on this trip to Kuailiang Village, Gou Laosi included, had sat on the right side, while Zhuang Laoqi sat alone on the left, looking frightened and uneasy.
No one had said a word, but the exclusion was obvious, and fear showed in their eyes.
In that atmosphere, Zhuang Laoqi's face looked terrible. The skin under his eyes and his lips gradually turned bluish-black, the whites of his eyes clouded, and he looked even more frightening.
Wu Shaochun, Fan Wujiu and Gou Laosi had unconsciously squeezed into a row, trembling and holding their breath.
"..."
As soon as Zhao Fusheng got in, they all turned their faces to stare at her.
Wu Shaochun winked at her, signaling her to sit with the group.
Fan Wujiu said nothing, and Gou Laosi kept his eyes down, nose to heart1, pretending to be dead.
Zhuang Laoqi was in worse shape.
Corpse spots had appeared on his face. Anyone who saw him would know he was no different from the dead.
His eyeballs were coated with a slick, grayish-white film, making them look spoiled, and it chilled the heart to be stared at by them.
Zhuang Laoqi was both afraid and flustered.
After his body died he had lost all sensation of pain and seemed unable to smell the corpse stench on himself, but he could feel the revulsion and fear Gou Laosi, Fan Wujiu and the others showed toward him.
That made him very uneasy.
Seeing Zhao Fusheng get in, he too turned his eyes with effort and looked at her, with a look of hope, anxiety, and a faint, cold viciousness on his face.
They stared at each other, motionless, for a while.
Zhao Fusheng bent at the knees and waist, glanced left and right, and finally chose to sit down heavily beside Zhuang Laoqi.
"Gulp—"
Zhuang Laoqi visibly let out a great breath, and the viciousness on his face turned to relief and gratitude.
Zhao Fusheng acted as if nothing was wrong, reached out, and slapped his arm:
"Move over a bit. Don't crowd me."
"Gulp— yes, yes, yes."
He was scolded, but felt very happy, because with everyone avoiding him like a plague, the more composed Zhao Fusheng acted, the more at ease he felt.
"Your Honor, gulp, sit here—"
Zhuang Laoqi shifted aside. The seat where he'd been sitting left a very obvious puddle, reeking.
Zhao Fusheng acted as if she hadn't seen it and sat down, and across from her Wu Shaochun showed open sympathy.
"Your Honor, why don't we trade places—" he said, forcing himself.
Zhao Fusheng had saved his life, and he remembered the debt and was willing, out of loyalty, to sacrifice himself.
At those words, Zhuang Laoqi's eyes flashed with menace.
"Sit where you are. I know what I'm doing," Zhao Fusheng answered.
Wu Shaochun wanted to say more, but Zhuang Laoqi's smile had already fallen away, and he stared coldly at him.
The stench of corpse in the carriage grew thicker.
Just then, Zhang Chuanshi outside urged the horses on, and the carriage rolled slowly forward. As it left Baoding Road, where the bureau stood, he suddenly slapped his forehead:
"Damn!"
Zhao Fusheng carefully held her breath, but the stench followed her like a shadow, as if it were seeping into her body through every pore.
She hadn't died when the ghost nearly revived earlier, but she was nearly suffocated by this smell.
The others in the carriage were pale too, and didn't dare make a sound.
"Your Honor."
Zhang Chuanshi called out. Hearing no answer, he raised his voice:
"Your Honor?"
He turned his head, showing half his face, with his eyes still on the road ahead.
Zhao Fusheng forced out a sentence from between her teeth:
"What is it?"
As soon as she spoke, she felt she was suffocating.
The corpse stench was going in through her open mouth and making her want to retch.
Zhang Chuanshi, sitting outside, didn't notice any of it and thought only that her tone was a bit off.
He thought it over, decided he hadn't done anything wrong today, and boldly said:
"Your Honor, we should have brought the people Eldest Brother Fan arranged. How do we get to Kuailiang Village?"
He knew only the road out of the city. Beyond the city, he had no idea in which direction Kuailiang Village lay.
"What's hard about that?" Zhao Fusheng said, breathing out in tiny puffs so as not to arouse Zhuang Laoqi's suspicion, trying to act as if nothing were wrong:
"Have Zhuang Laoqi sit beside you and show you the way."
"..."
This nearly knocked Zhang Chuanshi off the carriage. He was horror-struck and was about to refuse, but Zhao Fusheng gave him no chance. She turned to Zhuang Laoqi:
"You know the way to Kuailiang Village. Go and give Old Zhang directions."
"Huh?"
Zhuang Laoqi gaped, his expression flickering.
Zhao Fusheng pretended impatience:
"That's why I brought you and Gou Laosi along. Besides your being marked by the ghost, you also know the roads to Zhuang Family Village and Kuailiang Village. Don't waste time. Go."
"Y-yes..."
Hearing her hurry him, Zhuang Laoqi answered quickly, but his movements as he stood were slow.
"Your Honor—"
Zhang Chuanshi began to panic.
Everyone knew Zhuang Laoqi's condition was strange. Zhang Chuanshi had come out of the carriage precisely to avoid being in the same compartment as him.
He had thought driving on this trip to Kuailiang Village was a cushy job, but if Zhao Fusheng drove the ghost out, wouldn't he end up with the ghost for company the whole way?
He wailed, face crumpled:
"Have mercy, Your Honor—"
"Don't talk nonsense. Driving a carriage isn't going to cost you your life."
Zhao Fusheng warned him:
"Do your job properly and don't mess this up, or I won't forgive you."
Zhang Chuanshi caught her meaning and didn't dare express his anger.
Zhuang Laoqi rose, ducked out of the carriage, and sat beside Zhang Chuanshi in the driver's seat.
His body was icy and had no trace of the living. The moment he sat close to Zhang Chuanshi, a flood of damp air came off him and soaked the arms pressed against each other.
Zhang Chuanshi turned his head instinctively and saw a face pale to a yellowed white, with heavy blue shadows beneath the eyes, quite horrifying.
"..." His body jolted.
He used all his strength to swallow the scream back into his belly.
Zhuang Laoqi grinned at him in a friendly way, his teeth packed with black silt, and eerie black water ran from the corners of his mouth and soaked the clothes just stripped from Fan Wujiu.
"Brother, take this old brother's advice: don't smile."
Zhang Chuanshi's soul had flown out of his head, but he still freed a hand, took hold of Zhuang Laoqi's chin, and shoved it back hard to force his lips shut.
"You don't smile well and I don't like it."
"Yes, yes, gulp."
Zhuang Laoqi seemed to retain some of the thinking he'd had while alive and had some respect for a "big shot" of the bureau like Zhang Chuanshi.
Hearing this, he did his best to press his mouth shut: "My father said that too."
Then he smiled ingratiatingly at Zhang Chuanshi, and the black water ran out, and he realized he had "smiled" again and hurriedly covered his mouth with his hand, showing Zhang Chuanshi a pleading look.
"Driving is delicate work, and there can't be any mistakes. You just give directions and don't talk to me on the road, all right?"
Zhang Chuanshi asked, forcing himself to stay calm.
"Yes— gulp."
Zhuang Laoqi lowered his hand to answer, but as soon as he spoke, he saw Zhang Chuanshi frown and glare at him, and he covered his mouth again and nodded frantically to show his sincerity.
Zhang Chuanshi let out a huge breath, turned his fear into strength, and drove the horses.
And once Zhuang Laoqi left the carriage, the suffocating stench lifted by more than half, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief at the same moment.
All along the road, Zhuang Laoqi behaved fairly well, sitting quietly beside Zhang Chuanshi.
After about an hour of silence, as the carriage left Wan'an County, Gou Laosi was the first to crack and break the quiet:
"Your Honor, did a ghost case really happen in Kuailiang Village? Did my cousin, Fourth Madam Zhuang, really become a ghost?"
At the word "ghost," Gou Laosi looked uneasy.
Zhuang Laoqi was now no different from a "ghost," and this ghost was sitting quietly on the driver's seat, putting enormous psychological pressure on everyone else.
At some point the wound on his back, once tightly sealed, had begun to leak.
It seemed the invisible membrane could no longer hold back the water rippling inside him, and the water ran down his back, leaving a clear wet streak on his clothes.
Drip-drop, it fell all along the road as the carriage passed.
Zhao Fusheng watched Zhuang Laoqi's back with a stern face and frowned.
As Gou Laosi spoke, Zhuang Laoqi, who had been sitting like a corpse without moving, suddenly raised his head.
He seemed about to turn around, but the motion made the water pour out faster.
"Did my elder cousin really become a ghost, Your Honor? Does she really want to kill me?" He seemed puzzled.
"She's older than me by a few years. When I was little she held me. How could she?"
"In this world, what's impossible?"
Zhao Fusheng answered lightly.
"But it isn't fair, Your Honor—"
Zhuang Laoqi sounded aggrieved.
As he spoke, there was even a hint of resentment, and Zhao Fusheng looked up at him oddly, feeling that when he said it, he seemed to understand his true condition somewhat and to feel unwilling.
She said nothing.
Zhuang Laoqi went on:
"Before she married, I spoke up for her. How could she harm me?"
He seemed to have a belly full of grievance, as if afraid he'd never have another chance if he didn't say it now.
Zhao Fusheng didn't ask, and he poured it all out without stopping:
"My uncle had four daughters and two sons. My elder cousin was fourth, with two older sisters and an older brother above her, and a younger sister and a younger brother below."
As the saying goes, fathers love their eldest sons and mothers love their youngest. Fourth Madam Zhuang, wedged among her siblings, was the child her family overlooked.
People in this era were poor. More children in the house meant heavier taxes. Zhuang Laoqi's uncle and aunt worked themselves to the bone every year and still lived in misery.
They toiled from dawn, and the sun set before they could rest, but even so, with six children to feed, they were deep in debt, so both were very bad-tempered.
"Did your uncle and aunt get along?" Zhao Fusheng asked.
"They had their fights, but they got by."
Zhuang Laoqi said, delighted that Zhao Fusheng was talking to him:
"When my uncle was frustrated he'd hit someone, mostly my aunt. When my aunt was hit and her mood was bad, she'd hit the children."
Wu Shaochun and the others took this for granted, and even Gou Laosi thought it normal, but Fan Wujiu looked shocked when he heard it.
"Was your elder cousin beaten?" Zhao Fusheng asked.
"My elder cousin got beaten the most."
Fourth Madam Zhuang was neither eldest nor youngest, and caught in the middle as a child, she had the most awkward position in the family.
Farm children weren't treasures. From a very young age she'd had to help the family, working from dawn to dark, and if she was a bit slow, or if her parents were in a bad mood, she was beaten.
She'd lived in fear every day, her temperament quiet and gentle, and that was how she earned her reputation as virtuous.
"I remember one year—"
Zhuang Laoqi was in a talkative mood and, without waiting for more questions from Zhao Fusheng, brought up an old affair by himself.
But since his body had died, his mind wasn't sharp, and recalling things was a struggle. He paused for a moment before saying hesitantly:
"I remember it was when I was small. Which year was it? Why can't I remember?"
Then he began to slap his own head hard.
A sloshing sound came from inside his head, and with each slap, it was like patting a ripe melon. Zhao Fusheng listened, terrified, to the thump, thump, afraid that with one more slap his head would crack and blood and brains would splatter everywhere.
She glared at Gou Laosi and signaled him with her eyes.
It was Gou Laosi who had started the topic, so he ought to smooth it over.
Gou Laosi sat unsettled. Each time Zhuang Laoqi slapped his head, his eyelids twitched violently. After receiving Zhao Fusheng's look, he steeled himself and chimed in:
"C-Cousin, what was it?"
At his words, Zhuang Laoqi cheered up at once:
"Cousin, yes, you were there too."
"That year, the year Great-Aunt married off her daughter, remember?"
"Oh—" Gou Laosi's mind was quicker, and with a reminder he remembered:
"It was the year we were eight."
The cousins were close in age, and though not close relatives, they were the same age and compatible in temperament, so they'd played together since they were small.
Over the years, they had grown up as boyhood friends, and had agreed to go to the county town to work together.
They'd thought it would be a short trip to earn some money, but after one careless joke, Zhuang Laoqi had suddenly died.
"Cousin—"
Thinking of the past, Gou Laosi's eyes suddenly reddened, and tears spilled out, and he cried out uncontrollably.
