IBGSW Chapter 167
Fanning the Flames
Zhao Fusheng’s sudden show of force terrified Kuai Changshun.
Faced with an outside threat, Kuai Changshun quickly set aside his private grievances within the clan. His instinct was to weigh what the village stood to lose if Zhao Fusheng forced her way into the ancestral hall.
“Hey, Your Honor—”
Kuai Changshun spread out his arms in a flurry to block Zhao Fusheng, but didn’t dare actually touch her.
Fan Wujiu and Wu Shaochun stood on either side of her like two fierce gods, fixing Kuai Changshun with their eyes, looking ready to teach him a lesson if he laid a hand on her.
“Your Honor—”
Kuai Changshun had not expected a mishap like this the moment he stepped out of the house. He was anxious, and his gaze wavered as though he were deliberating whether to call for people.
But in the next instant, before he could cry out, Zhao Fusheng changed faces faster than flipping a page. She suddenly grinned:
“I was joking with you.” She smiled at Kuai Changshun. “I know you’re afraid of your grandfather, so why would I put you in a bind?”
Kuai Changshun had thought she was bent on entering the hall and had braced himself to shout for help with all his might. Instead, in the next moment Zhao Fusheng gave up her original plan, and even said she was willing to give him face.
“Your Honor—”
This tightening and loosening quickly won Kuai Changshun’s gratitude.
What would a young man know of such tactics? His goodwill toward Zhao Fusheng swelled even as he felt guilty and uneasy about how overly guarded he’d been before.
“I see your grandfather has great standing in the village and his word is law. Don’t worry. Even if I want to go in, I’ll go talk to him myself later and won’t give you a headache,” Zhao Fusheng added deliberately, watching the young man’s expression change and feeling satisfied.
At this, Kuai Changshun grew even more uneasy. He hesitated, then said:
“I won’t hide it from you, Your Honor. The hall does have some rules, that people who aren’t Kuai men may not enter. But most of the people in our village are our own, so the rules weren’t necessarily that strict. Sometimes my grandmother comes over to add lamp oil, and my mother and several of my aunts come to sweep and wipe the spirit tablets and so on.”
Grateful for her consideration, he lowered his guard, and his mouth was no longer as tight as Sixth Uncle’s. He was willing to tell her a few things.
A sly smile appeared at the corner of Zhao Fusheng’s mouth. Wu Shaochun was dumbstruck and turned to look at Fan Wujiu, but seeing that Fan Wujiu seemed unfazed, he shut his mouth and listened quietly.
“Then these rules—”
Having learned that the rule against entering the hall hadn’t always been strict, Zhao Fusheng wondered whether something was hidden in the hall, and whether Sixth Uncle had deliberately set up this special rule of “no outsiders, no women” to target her.
“Actually, it’s mostly because the hall might be haunted,” Kuai Changshun said after hesitating, lowering his voice to reveal the secret.
“Haunted?”
The answer was beyond Wu Shaochun’s expectations, and he cried out softly.
A dark light flashed in Zhao Fusheng’s eyes. Hearing Wu Shaochun, Kuai Changshun grew anxious and whispered:
“Keep it down, please, don’t let my dad and the others hear. My grandfather will beat me to death.”
Zhao Fusheng nodded and gave Wu Shaochun a look, instructing him:
“Shaochun, keep your voice down.”
Hearing her speak up for him, Kuai Changshun’s eyes filled with gratitude.
After that, he had fewer qualms about speaking his mind:
“I won’t hide it from you, Your Honor. In the past, outsiders and women were forbidden in the hall only at New Year and on ritual occasions. The rest of the time it wasn’t so strict. The reason we later set up these rules is that we can’t get into the hall anymore.”
“What?” Now Zhao Fusheng was startled too:
“What do you mean, you can’t get in?”
“I mean we can’t enter the Kuai Clan Ancestral Hall anymore.”
Kuai Changshun scratched his head in annoyance:
“The strange part has to start from the day my Fifth Aunt had her accident. Just as my grandfather said, after my Fifth Aunt di—died, the day never dawned again in our village. People were anxious, we couldn’t get out, my grandfather couldn’t sleep and was also worried, so he came up with the idea of making offerings to our ancestors and asking them to protect us.”
A strange thought streaked through Zhao Fusheng’s mind.
Kuai Changshun went on:
“We prepared the offerings, and when we gathered at the hall gate, we found we couldn’t get in.”
“There’s no door here, but we were blocked outside the hall. Something inside the hall wouldn’t let us in. My grandfather guessed it was because we hadn’t honored the ancestral rules before, so the ancestors were angry and wouldn’t let us in. So he set new rules and had the village firmly enforce them.”
After explaining, he looked at Zhao Fusheng apologetically:
“So, Your Honor, I really can’t take you into the hall—”
What Kuai Changshun described was very strange.
Zhao Fusheng had been reborn for some time and now had some understanding of ghosts in this world. People who died either were buried in peace or became malignant ghosts that revived and plagued a region.
Once revived, a ghost has no memory or feelings. The ancestral hall set up in Kuailiang Village looked to Zhao Fusheng more like a device by the village elders to bind people together and comfort themselves.
The protection of ancestors didn’t exist, so their wrath was equally nonexistent.
If the Kuailiang Village people couldn’t enter the hall, then after Fourth Madam Zhuang’s ghost revived, something in the hall must have changed, or the villagers had changed in some way, which in turn had altered something in the hall, either already there or appearing only after Fourth Madam Zhuang’s death, producing the strange situation in which the villagers could no longer enter the hall.
Zhao Fusheng looked at the uneasy Kuai Changshun and decided to go along with his story for now to lower his guard.
But since something was uncanny about the Kuai Clan Ancestral Hall, she would have to go in sooner or later and investigate.
She nodded:
“It’s fine, I understand. I’ll bring it up with your grandfather later.”
Kuai Changshun had seen how she dealt with Sixth Uncle earlier, and now that Zhao Fusheng was unusually accommodating, he was grateful and guilty and wished he could say something to repay her consideration.
“By the way, you really are afraid of your grandfather.”
Zhao Fusheng pushed down her thoughts and teased Kuai Changshun in a joking tone:
“I can see your grandfather is quite strict and acts with fairness, no wonder everyone respects him.”
One was fishing for information and the other wanted to repay a favor. Add to that the fact that under Sixth Uncle’s strong patriarchal manner, a young man like Kuai Changshun really did carry long-accumulated dissatisfaction.
Zhao Fusheng’s words pried open a crack in a jar of aged wine:
“Who isn’t afraid of him?” Kuai Changshun muttered.
Though he said it casually, Zhao Fusheng heard resentment in it.
“Why do you say that? Sixth Uncle seems mild to me, not harsh at all,” Zhao Fusheng said, the corners of her mouth curving into a smile, deliberately pouring oil on the fire in a light tone.
Kuai Changshun couldn’t hold back any longer, and said, full of grievance:
“That’s how he is with outsiders.”
He had a very good impression of Zhao Fusheng, this important figure from the Demon-Suppression Bureau, so dignified and yet gentle and considerate. They were close in age, and she spoke pleasantly, which made him warm to her. Now, with just a few words from her, he couldn’t help pouring out his troubles:
“Your Honor doesn’t know, my grandfather has a stubborn temper. My dad and my uncles are too filial to say anything to him, and my mother and my aunts have been unhappy for a long time.”
“How could that be?”
Zhao Fusheng raised an eyebrow and feigned surprise:
“Sixth Uncle’s sons all seem very filial to me, and the daughters-in-law very meek.”
An unspeakable expression crossed Kuai Changshun’s face. He gave Zhao Fusheng a deep look, seemed to want to speak, and finally his mixed feelings turned into a heavy cold laugh:
“Heh.”
Zhao Fusheng noticed with interest how this young man’s mind worked.
He had grown up in Kuailiang Village, and his grandfather was the village elder with deep prestige, so his feelings toward Sixth Uncle must be very complicated. On one hand he probably resented Sixth Uncle’s domineering, authoritarian ways, and on the other he was crushed by that very authoritarianism and prestige.
The clan had formed a special sense of conviction and honor, which had been stamped onto his thinking like a steel seal. He wanted to rebel and yet obeyed this clan rule, truly a contradiction.
If she had come at any other time, Zhao Fusheng would have had a hard time prying open his mouth. But this time was different: Fourth Madam Zhuang’s death had become a variable in the village, setting off many hidden conflicts.
Her eyes turned, and she smiled again:
“I think your village is really something. Everyone united in heart, no household division, no conflicts, close as one big family.”
Kuai Changshun’s face took on a forced look.
But his lips moved, and wariness reappeared in his eyes. He didn’t want to say more about the village’s secrets, and forced a smile at Zhao Fusheng:
“Your Honor, be careful, it’s dark and the road is uneven.”
He was still young, and his way of changing the subject was clumsy.
For a young man like this, Zhao Fusheng didn’t use the high-handedness she’d used on Sixth Uncle. She answered with a smile and went along with a new topic:
“By the way, we’re going to Kuai Wu’s house. I heard from your grandfather that Kuai Wu is Fourth Madam Zhuang’s husband. Tell me about him.”
Once the topic no longer revolved around Sixth Uncle, the pressure on Kuai Changshun dropped sharply. He nodded, his mouth twisted, and contempt showed on his face:
“Kuai Wu, huh—”
“Wait.”
Zhao Fusheng interrupted him with a smile:
“Kuai Wu is your grandfather’s cousin’s son. By generation you’re a rank below him, so you ought to call him Fifth Uncle.”
Pah. Kuai Changshun spat on the ground, then reached out a foot and ground it flat:
“He doesn’t deserve it.”
The young man made no effort to hide his contempt. Treating Zhao Fusheng like a friend, he began to unload his troubles:
“Your Honor doesn’t know. That Kuai Wu is sickening to the core.”
When he mentioned “Kuai Wu,” he clenched his fists, drew a big breath, and held back again and again.
Zhao Fusheng nearly laughed at his furious expression. She asked:
“What did he do?”
“In the village, you could call him a man hated by gods and men alike,” Kuai Changshun answered.
“This man is out of his mind. Most of us in the village work from sunrise to sunset, but Kuai Wu is the odd one out.”
Zhao Fusheng calmly added fuel to the fire and urged him to be big-hearted:
“Ah, after all, he’s an elder, so put up with it.”
At her words, Kuai Changshun, who had been trying hard to hold his temper, couldn’t hold it any longer. He was so angry he wanted to stamp his feet, and raised his voice:
“I really can’t put up with it.”
“What happened?” Zhao Fusheng followed up.
“Every day he gets drunk, and at noon he calls his drinking buddies to his house to drink. After drinking they pass out on the floor, and he wakes at midnight1, wanders around, and in the dead of night he stands in front of other people’s houses singing, keeping everyone awake.”
Kuai Changshun said bitterly.
“Is he crazy?” Wu Shaochun put in as he listened.
“He is crazy!” Kuai Changshun nodded vigorously and replied bitterly.
“That alone doesn’t make him crazy. He’s an elder, and your village has always been united, so everyone swallows it and puts up with him on the surface,” Zhao Fusheng said with a smile.
Her words only poured more oil on the fire. Kuai Changshun couldn’t stand it any longer and, forgetting Zhao Fusheng’s rank, said resentfully:
“Your Honor, why do you sound just like my grandfather?”
“I’ve put up with him for a long time. If I could stand it any longer, don’t you think I would?” The more he spoke, the more irritated he became, and anger showed on his face:
“Your Honor, you’re an outsider, so you don’t know. Let me tell you one thing and you’ll understand how loathsome Kuai Wu is.”
Zhao Fusheng had been silently provoking him for ages for exactly this, to hear the secret. She nodded readily:
“Go ahead.”
“The year before last, my Third Uncle and his wife had a fight. My Third Aunt said she’d been beaten, and made a scene, saying she’d take the child to my grandfather to settle the matter.”
When they asked what had happened, they found Kuai Wu had coaxed Kuai San’s son into going home and stealing several chi of cloth that Third Aunt had woven.
“She had woven it to pay taxes, and he took it and pawned it for two cups of wine.”
Kuai San and his wife fought till their heads were bloodied. When Kuai Wu was found, he was dead drunk, snoring.
“My grandfather had someone wake him up. He lay on the ground and wouldn’t get up, and when he saw his brother and sister-in-law fighting he didn’t feel the least bit guilty, and even watched the fight with a ‘heh heh’ grin. Tell me, isn’t a person like that revolting?”
“It’s truly revolting,” Fan Wujiu said:
“If it were me, I’d give him two punches and break his nose.”
“I want to hit him too.” Kuai Changshun’s eyes lit up as if he had found a kindred spirit.
But then he looked grim:
“It was a huge fuss back then. Third Uncle and his wife fought like mad, Third Aunt cried and screamed and even hit the child. My grandfather said a few fair words, and finally got the couple calmed down. When he saw Kuai Wu he also said a couple of words, told him to behave, not cause trouble, and live properly with Fifth Aunt.”
From these casual complaints, Zhao Fusheng gathered quite a bit: he despised Kuai Wu, but he didn’t seem to feel the same revulsion toward Fourth Madam Zhuang, who had been drowned for having an affair, as could be seen from how he addressed each of them.
“And then?” Zhao Fusheng asked.
“If my grandfather hadn’t said it, fine, but once he did, it set off a hornet’s nest,” Kuai Changshun said sourly:
“That bastard Kuai Wu jumped up, pointed at my grandfather’s nose and cursed him, saying he’s the jinx who introduced my Fifth Aunt to him with ill intent, and caused the deaths of his parents—”
These words cut Sixth Uncle to the heart.
Kuai Jumin’s death was a wound in Kuai Wu’s heart, and also a knot in Sixth Uncle and his wife’s hearts.
From Zhao Fusheng’s earlier conversation with Sixth Uncle it was evident that eight or nine years had passed and the old couple had never let go of it.
Especially after Fourth Madam Zhuang’s affair led the village to execute her and a ghost case appeared, the couple’s remorse deepened.
Zhao Fusheng could imagine what it was like when Kuai Wu pointed his finger at Sixth Uncle’s nose and cursed him, and how this village elder must have felt ashamed, furious, and guilty all at once.
His challenged authority, and the well-meaning decision he’d made years ago that turned out badly, had become a shackle pressing on Sixth Uncle’s heart.
