Song Miaozhu and Zhao Mumei stood silently behind the old man, waiting. When he finally finished carving the miniature house and reached for the wooden doll to place inside—
Thwack!
Zhao Mumu struck the back of his neck with a precise chop. Grandpa Zhao slumped instantly, caught by Zhao Mumu before he could hit the ground.
At the same time, Song Miaozhu lashed out with a rattan cane and knocked the doll away. "Come out!"
The ghost inside hadn't felt such soul-rending pain since death. Realizing he'd met someone formidable, he hesitated—but the old man, his only potential savior, was already being dragged away by the other girl. He had no idea what was happening outside.
As he considered his options, Song Miaozhu didn't wait. Her cane dropped into the bowl of willow water nearby and stirred ominously.
"If you don't come out now, pain will be the least of your worries."
Shocked by the threat, The ghost shuddered and prostrated himself.
"Spare me, Master! I never meant harm! The old man mistook me for someone else!"
Zhao Mumu returned and whispered to Song Miaozhu, "I left Master under the sun."
Song Miaozhu nodded, then turned to the ghost. "Did you hear that? Don't even think about going back to Grandpa Zhao. Now tell the truth—how did you leave the underworld dwelling, and why have you been following him?
You should know that leaving your tomb may have given you freedom, but you also lost the underworld's protection. I could scatter your soul to the winds, and no one would hold me accountable."
"I'll talk! I'll talk!"
Though she looked gentle, her words were crueler than any underworld enforcer's. Terrified, the ghost confessed everything in a panic:
"My name's Zhu Dagui. I was from Taoshuling Village, upstream of Little Lijiang River. I died twenty-five years ago. If you don't believe me, go ask the villagers—someone will remember me!
Raised kids my whole life, but when I died, none cared. A few years back, the mountain where I was buried got turned into a scenic area. Graves were moved to the public cemetery. Others had descendants buying plots—mine left me in the columbarium.
Then even that got overcrowded. They started clearing out unclaimed ashes. That's how I became a stray ghost. If not for recent changes weakening daytime yang energy's harm, I'd have dissipated already.
When the old man visited the cemetery, I noticed the grave he mourned at was empty—no ghost inside. I snatched some paper ingots, but he seemed to see me! Even told me to take more. Thinking he could help, I begged him for a paper yin dwelling—so I could return to the underworld. But his eyesight's bad. He mistook me for his wife and carved a female doll!
Oddly, the doll shielded me from yang energy as long as I avoided direct sunlight. Even nourished my soul slightly, like a paper dwelling would. I just wanted him to burn or bury it so I could rest. But then he started on this wooden house—useless to me! It reeks of some weird energy I can't inhabit…"
The ghost grew increasingly pitiful. "I never meant harm! Stray ghosts suffer terribly! Without him, I'd have perished! And when he carves, I can't even get close!"
Song Miaozhu sneered coldly: "You think just because I'm alive, I don't know the rules of the underworld? Need me to remind you? You lose your tomb not your registration! Your name's still on the underworld rolls! Last chance for the truth—or would you prefer my rattan refreshes your memory?"
She raised it threateningly. Zhu Dagui, realizing she genuinely knew the underworld's workings. All hope of bluffing vanished. He kowtowed frantically
"No no! I—I just wanted more paper offerings! And a dwelling! That's all! Stray ghosts with no descendants or homes wander penniless in the underworld! It's miserable! I got greedy but never meant harm!
You know registered ghosts are monitored! Hurting the living deducts virtue points, shortens afterlife spans, and lands us in hell! I'd never risk it! I swear—once night falls, I'll return to the underworld and never come back! Spare me!"
Song Miaozhu lowered her rattan slightly.
Whether due to the spiritual energy protecting Grandpa Zhao during carving or underworld laws restraining the ghost, he likely hadn't harmed anyone. But Grandpa Zhao's belief that this was his wife needed addressing.
It was broad daylight—there was no need to worry about the ghost escaping. Song Miaozhu pulled Zhao Mumu outside.
"Miaozhu, what's going on? What did the ghost say?" Zhao Mumu had watched her talk to a doll and felt the chill in the room.
Song Miaozhu explained everything. After hearing the story, Zhao Mumu's jaw hung open. "Ghosts… are real?"
"You contacted the Dazhao abbot. I thought you believed already," Song Miaozhu said.
"Suspecting and hearing it confirmed are different!" Zhao Mumu admitted. "Plus you're not profiting off this. No reason to lie…"
Song Miaozhu: "…"
"So she had considered the possibility that I made it up…"
Zhao Mumu wasn't that scared anymore. Curiosity and doubt took over. She frowned. "Why did the ghost say Shimu's grave was empty? Where is she? Was her tomb disturbed?"
"Not necessarily. If a ghost reincarnates, their grave empties," Song Miaozhu said. "I'll check the cemetery later."
"So… you've always been able to see ghosts?" Zhao Mumu asked.
"More or less," Miaozhu replied.
Zhao Mumu looked at her with awe and continued: "But the ghost said Master could see and hear him, too? I never heard of him having this ability. And how did he mistake a male ghost for his wife? Their appearances and voices shouldn't even be similar!"