Chapter 64

Gu Zhao brought over a small stool and pulled out a handful of roasted sunflower seeds from his pocket, handing them to the old woman and the other two. “These are snacks we bought on the road—just for munching.”

The old woman’s son cracked one open, his eyes lighting up. “So fragrant!”

The woman cracked two seeds, then tucked the rest away and said, “This alley was once very lively thirty years ago. The residents here were all wealthy or noble. The Zhu family was a scholarly lineage; the father served as chief clerk of the county office and also taught at the county school, his status all the more esteemed.”

Master Zhu had only one daughter, who from childhood was intelligent and graceful, well-read and virtuous, cherished as a precious jewel. Many families came to propose, but all were politely refused—he wanted only the finest husband for his daughter.”

Later, it was said a distant relative of the county magistrate came seeking refuge and study, becoming Master Zhu’s disciple. This man was handsome, elegant, and deeply learned, his speech polished and refined, greatly pleasing Master Zhu, who then wished to unite the two.”

“But unexpectedly, Master Zhu’s daughter refused!” the woman feigned surprise, then asked Xiuniang, “Do you know why?”

Xiuniang immediately gave the standard answer: “Because she had already secretly pledged her heart to someone else!”

“Where?” the woman shook her head vigorously. “Miss Zhu was a proper lady, never venturing to places crowded with men—how could she have secretly pledged herself?”

“Then why?” Xiuniang asked.

“Because Miss Zhu said this man had a corrupt heart!” the woman revealed the answer.

“How could she tell?” Xiuniang asked, puzzled.

“No one knows—but we can only say Miss Zhu was born with keen insight. Alas, though her insight could see through men’s true natures, she could never foresee the depths of human malice!” the old woman sighed.

The woman sighed too. “Miss Zhu firmly refused, and Master Zhu naturally wouldn’t force his daughter. But this man grew bitter over it and conspired with the county magistrate to frame Master Zhu, accusing him of embezzling thirty thousand taels meant for famine relief.”

Xiuniang gasped. “Ah!?”

“With the county magistrate investigating above and students testifying below, the townsfolk all believed it true. Master Zhu, unable to bear the shame, took his own life to prove his innocence—and his wife followed him in death.”

The woman spoke softly, “After burying her parents, Miss Zhu hated that man for his heartless cruelty—and hated herself for bringing ruin upon them. Overwhelmed, she threw herself down a well.”

“Then she became a ghost?” Gu Zhao asked.

“Mm.” The old woman nodded. “Since then, on quiet nights, a faint song has echoed from the Zhu family mansion. Everyone says it’s Miss Zhu, missing her parents and unwilling to leave.”

“Everyone who moved into the mansion was woken by that song at night—who dared stay?” the woman said. “Soon, even neighbors around the mansion moved away.”

“What about that evil man?” Xiuniang asked bitterly.

“Because he solved the case, the county magistrate was promoted to Changping Prefecture, and the man left with him—and never returned.” The old woman added, to ensure they believed her, “I was the Zhu family’s kitchen helper back then—I know these things well. I only wish I could have helped them.”

Daochang Yan Song shook his head. “Truly, good people get no good fortune.”

Xiuniang added sympathetically, “Poor sister…”

No wonder Miss Zhu was so cold—her family had been framed, the culprit not only escaped justice but gained from it.

The group naturally believed the old woman’s tale, for Miss Zhu bore no malevolent aura. Though she had been driven to death, as a ghost she had never harmed the innocent—only lingered in her own courtyard, mourning her parents. She was, in truth, kind.

The story ended here.

The courtyard fell silent. Everyone ate quietly. When they finished, night had fallen. Gu Zhao and the others were about to make excuses to leave when they all tensed.

Several qi signatures suddenly surged from afar, speeding toward the haunted mansion, unrestrained and brazen.

The next moment, a pure, chilling aura rose from within the haunted mansion—angry, almost defiant.

“What’s going on?” Bai Ke’s tail bristled, for she sensed the leading qi signature was immensely strong—even rivaling Daochang Yan Song’s.

“Let the old woman and the others rest first.” Gu Zhao gave Yan Song a glance.

Though they didn’t know the ghost’s situation or who had come, they might get involved—and they couldn’t risk harming the old woman’s family. So the two used no magic power, merely a light touch behind the three necks, sending them instantly into deep sleep.

They moved the family inside, and Gu Zhao pulled a silver ingot from his robe, placing it in the old woman’s arms. Then the three and the fox left the courtyard—and found the earlier qi signatures had already entered the haunted mansion.

“Is the ghost having visitors?” Bai Ke said.

“But according to the old woman, Miss Zhu has been here for decades—surely she has no friends?” Xiuniang said.

Daochang Yan Song stroked his beard, speaking gravely. “I suspect these visitors mean harm.”

Rarely had Gu Zhao seen a good ghost. He rubbed his hands. “Let’s go see.”

The three suppressed their qi, leapt over the wall, and slipped silently into the mansion, using trees for cover as they crept toward the main hall.

…

“You must be Miss Qingyan, right? Truly a vision of beauty—no wonder the King fell for you at first sight and wants to take you into his harem as his third divine consort.”

“When Old Master Jin Feng left, he gave me one month!” came the cold voice, barely containing fury.

Gu Zhao and the others had circled to the side-rear of the hall. Now they held their breath, suppressing their qi, gazing forward.

In the courtyard before the hall stood a red sedan chair, four bearers stationed at each corner, and two maids before it—one holding a fan, the other offering incense.

Before the maids stood another woman.

Her phoenix eyes slanted upward, her lips crimson as flame. A crimson brocade dress, embroidered with dark floral patterns, clung to her voluptuous figure. Golden filigree willow hairpins dripped tassels that glowed against her snow-white skin.

Opposite the red-clad woman stood the white-robed woman Gu Zhao and the others had met earlier.

The earlier exchange had come from these two.

“Indeed, my King did grant you one month,” the red-clad woman lightly covered her lips with her sleeve, her gaze toward the white-robed woman heavy with meaning. “But what can one do when things go awry?”

“What went wrong?” the white-robed woman asked.

“It so happens my King had never before visited Xiuyue County. Last time he came on official business, he unexpectedly discovered you, a beauty lost in the countryside—truly a pity.”

The red-clad woman sighed softly. “My King had already planned to marry you after the month. But when he mentioned it at court, another man heard—and was both shocked and delighted. He begged the King to grant you to him.”

“My King originally refused—but this man is also the King’s friend, and vital to the Divine Sect. So the King had no choice but to sacrifice you.”

Seeing the white-robed woman’s ashen face, the red-clad woman chuckled. “Do you know who this man is?”

The white-robed woman said nothing. But the red-clad woman drew from her sleeve a jade flute. “Zhu Qingyan, do you remember an old friend?”