Chapter 92

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The sun had passed its zenith. The flowing brook washed clean the pots and bowls, which were then hung back on the rack behind the old donkey. Droplets of water dripped onto the ground in rhythm with the donkey’s hooves.

After finishing the pot of “Dragon and Phoenix Tonic Soup” prepared by Sun Yingxian, the group resumed their journey along a small path branching off from the official road west of the capital. The road stretched onward, flanked by vast woodlands, yet it was not entirely remote. Beyond a patch of trees, open fields came into view, with scattered villages dotting the distant horizon.

The mountain village of Wang Tianshi lay much farther ahead. Before setting out, Lu Liangsheng had compared their route with a map—the haunted village was in the northwest, so he intended to rid Wang Tianshi’s hometown of its malevolent spirit along the way.

Afterward, they would quicken their pace to reach Heliang Prefecture in the northwest—there was still enough time.

Over a hundred li from the capital Tianzhi, the nearby villages were not too impoverished. Wang Family Village sprawled across the land, its fields stretching in an unbroken expanse, reaching the northern foothills.

To the west, a great river ten zhang wide, wound its way through the land. Lu Liangsheng and his companions followed the muddy path outside the village to the riverbank. Dense reeds lined both shores, their autumnal hues of gray and yellow swaying in the breeze. The shimmering river surface reflected the golden afternoon light, filling the heart with a sense of boundless tranquility.

“With a great river coiled to the west, mountains providing shelter at the rear, and woodlands shielding against the wind from the south, the land is fertile, and the scenery is pleasant—why would anyone be willing to leave?”

The scholar, leading the old donkey, let his gaze drift along the river’s flow. The evening wind caressed his robes and hair, making them ripple gently in its embrace.

“It’s not that I wanted to leave.”

Along the journey, Wang Tianshi had seen much that opened his eyes. Traveling over a hundred li in just a few hours—he could brag about this for a lifetime upon returning to his village.

He looked at the scholar’s back, shook his head to dismiss unnecessary thoughts, and quickly replied:

“…Young Master Lu, who isn’t afraid of ghosts? I saw it once—just once! I was so terrified that I took to my bed for days. It felt like my whole body had been soaked in water, unbearably uncomfortable. My strength drained away, and without strength, I couldn’t farm. So I had no choice but to leave home to find food.”

The setting sun cast its light on the scholar, illuminating his delicate features as he turned slightly.

“Mm. Has that evil spirit ever taken a life? Where does it usually appear?”

“I don’t think it has killed anyone…”

Wang Tianshi thought for a moment—he hadn’t heard of any deaths. He pointed further down the riverbank.

“Just follow the river downstream. There’s a ferry crossing. That’s where I saw it last time. I only caught a glimpse from afar, but it chilled me to the bone.”

“Mm. Exorcising ghosts is Daoist Sun’s specialty.”

Lu Liangsheng pondered for a moment and nodded before glancing behind him. “Old Sun?”

Beside the old donkey, there was no sign of Sun Yingxian. Instead, the Toad Daoist sitting by the book rack, a rope tied around his waist, pointed toward the river below.

“Gone fishing.”

The scholar looked over and saw a figure moving hastily along the riverbank. After a few steps, Sun Yingxian stopped at a spot with fewer reeds. It was unclear what he was doing—he held a writing brush and scribbled something onto his palm before suddenly thrusting his hand toward the river.

A series of deafening explosions rang out. The river surface erupted, sending multiple jets of water soaring into the air. Countless droplets shimmered like a curtain of pearls, reflecting the crimson hues of the sunset.

“Old Lu, lend a hand!” Sun Yingxian shouted.

Among the cascading water, several river fish plummeted downward. Lu Liangsheng formed a hand seal, extended his sleeve, and waved forward.

Before Wang Tianshi’s widened eyes, over twenty fish that had been falling toward the river suddenly reversed direction in midair and flew toward the riverbank, landing neatly around the scholar’s feet.

Excerpt from [Southern Waters Collection of Lost Arts], Chapter Fifteen:

“In Xiling, there was a Daoist skilled in an art called the Five Ghosts Transporting Wealth. When the Xiling County Yamen was robbed, several hundred taels of silver were stolen. The night watchman saw the silver floating through the air, flying off into the distance. The constables and city guards launched a siege and eventually captured the thief, who confessed that the technique was called ‘Transposition and Shifting.’”

Wang Tianshi stood agape for a long moment before snapping back to his senses. He quickly removed his tattered outer robe and gathered up the dozen or so fish flopping on the ground, their tails slapping noisily.

“Autumn fish are plump and tender—Daoist Sun truly understands the delicacies of the wild.”

Below, Sun Yingxian took a light step and effortlessly leaped onto the riverbank. With a swift motion, he grabbed two fish and lifted them triumphantly in front of the scholar.

Before he could gloat, Lu Liangsheng swiftly snatched them away, smiling. “It’s getting late. If we need to stay in the village overnight, we can’t show up empty-handed, can we?”

“Hey, hey! You’re offering flowers in Buddha’s name—but those ‘flowers’ were fished up by me!”

As the Daoist gestured and protested beside him, they noticed a crowd had gathered along the muddy road outside the village. Likely drawn by the loud explosions, the villagers gripped their farm tools tightly upon seeing the approaching strangers.

“Who are you people? What are you doing here?!”

The sudden appearance of outsiders, coupled with the earlier commotion, put the villagers on guard. Wang Tianshi, still carrying the fish in his robe, hurried forward and shouted at the top of his lungs.

“It’s me, Tianshi! Don’t you recognize me?!”

The villagers—some holding hoes, others shouldering carrying poles—looked at the approaching figure and burst into laughter.

“Wang Stonehead, didn’t you leave the village? What brought you back?” “Only been a few months, and you’re back already? Did you make any money?” “Yeah! Widow Li is still waiting for you to marry her!”

[TL_Note: Shi means stone, so it’s likely a nickname]

Most of the villagers spoke in this casual, teasing manner. To an outsider, it might sound a bit like mockery, but Wang Tianshi, being familiar with them, wasn’t offended. Instead, he puffed up his chest proudly in front of everyone.

“Heh, isn’t it because I was thinking about the village that I came back? The city has good food, a nice place to stay, and I even get a monthly wage. I’ve saved up quite a bit!”

Wang Tianshi stretched out his foot and flicked the toe of his shoe upward.

“See this? Made by the Zhang family’s tailor shop in the city. The craftsmanship is way better than what Old Wang at the village entrance can manage, don’t you think?”

Showing off like this left the villagers momentarily speechless. Just then, the crowd parted, and an elderly man squeezed his way forward, tapping the ground with the end of his cane.

“Then why did you come back?”

“Isn’t it because of the haunting in the village… the h-haunting…”

At the sight of the old man, Wang Tianshi instantly straightened up, his boastfulness fading. He quickly pointed to the scholar and the Daoist behind him, who were leading the old donkey.

“Father… I brought them to exorcise the ghost for the village…”

“Still talking about ghosts? Where would a ghost come from in our village?!” The old man raised his cane and struck Wang Tianshi a few times. Not daring to resist, Wang Tianshi took the blows without complaint. Only after venting his anger did the elder turn his gaze toward the scholar and the Daoist. The scholar, wearing a white robe adorned with light apricot patterns, had a refined and handsome face. He smiled and nodded politely.

Beside him, the Daoist’s robe was pristine, but his topknot was somewhat disheveled. He had a mustache and a short beard on his chin, giving him an appearance that wasn’t exactly reassuring.

“There are no ghosts in our village. However, since you two have traveled far and it’s getting late, why not come to my house?”

Lu Liangsheng and the Daoist exchanged a glance before looking at Wang Tianshi.

They couldn’t help but feel a little puzzled.

“Let’s go into the village first and see.”

The scholar murmured softly before following the old man into the village. The gathered villagers gradually dispersed. Lost in thought, they soon arrived at the elder’s house. It wasn’t very large, but it had a small courtyard with a peach tree growing in one corner.

Inside, a dim blue flame flickered as the oil lamp was lit.

The old man shook out the sparks from his fire starter and set it aside before instructing Wang Tianshi to put the fish into the water vat outside. Then, he turned back to invite Lu Liangsheng and the Daoist to sit down.

He went to fetch a clay pot and poured two bowls of cool water.

“You two haven’t eaten yet, have you? I’ll go cook something—it won’t be much, but it’ll be enough to get by.”

“Thank you, Elder.”

Lu Liangsheng cupped his hands in gratitude, glancing toward the courtyard where Wang Tianshi was stirring the water vat. Then, he turned back and finally asked:

“Elder, is there really a ghost in the village?”

The firelight from the stove flickered across the old man’s face.

“There is… It’s a boatman.”

After a long silence, he spoke in a low, hoarse voice.