Chapter 2: Haunting

Daming Prefecture, Yong'an Ward.

Madam Zhang, the eldest daughter-in-law of the Yang family’s third branch, stared blankly at the two white lanterns hanging under the eaves, each adorned with a red "double happiness" character.

Today was the day her eldest son was to take a wife. The only difference was that her sixth son had already died in battle on the frontier.

The elders of the clan, unable to bear the thought of the sixth Yang son being lonely in the afterlife, took it upon themselves to find a young woman who had just passed away. They matched their horoscopes and arranged a ghost marriage for the two.

The Yangs were a prominent family and had been in Yong'an Ward for many years, but their third branch had long since fallen into decline. They were never given much thought by the rest of the clan, and now, this "festivity" was something her son had bought with his own life.

"The clan leader even allowed his own residence to be used for the banquet for the sake of the sixth son."

"The clan hasn't seen such a grand display in a long time."

"Even without the sixth son, you still have the ninth son..."

These words echoed in Zhang's mind, as if any further display of grief on her part would be an impropriety.

Some of the clansmen even had glints of resentment in their eyes, clearly feeling that the clan shouldn't be favoring the third branch to this extent.

Years ago, during the northern border wars, the Yang clan had been forced to flee their home. Zhang’s husband, Yang Mingsheng, had risked everything to engage in maritime trade to earn money for the clan. Unexpectedly, they encountered a storm, and Yang Mingsheng, along with ten ships of cargo, was buried at sea, nearly cutting off the entire clan's livelihood.

Having lost their only son, and burdened by guilt toward the rest of the clan, the old master and mistress had voluntarily turned over all their wealth and fertile land to the clan, and the position of clan leader was ceded to the second branch’s old master.

The old master had hoped that his desperate attempts to make amends would earn the third branch the clan's understanding. In reality, once the third branch lost its power and wealth, the clansmen’s dissatisfaction became even more blatant. It was they who had begged the third branch to find a way out back then, yet it had turned into Yang Mingsheng acting recklessly and nearly driving the Yang clan to ruin.

The old master and mistress, filled with hatred and frustration, both passed away in despair within a few years.

From then on, the mother and her two children became targets for everyone. Whenever there was the slightest disturbance, someone would bring up the past.

Thinking back on it now, could it be that someone had deliberately set a trap back then, leading the third branch to step right into it?

It was too late for hindsight. She could only endure it for the sake of her two children.

Her sixth son, wanting his mother and younger brother to live a better life, had joined the army at sixteen. In just half a year, he had earned military merit and was promoted to a junior officer.

She had prayed day and night for his safe return, only to receive news of his death in battle. He had left home a strapping man of seven feet, but returned as nothing more than bones.

What pained her most was that even after her son was gone, the clan still insisted on exploiting him in every way possible.

"Sister-in-law of the third branch."

Zhang immediately turned her head to see Madam Zou, the wife of the fourth son of the second branch, walking over with her attendants.

Zhang said nothing, leading Zou toward the main hall.

The hall was decorated like a wedding chamber, but the memorial tablet of the sixth Yang son placed on the altar was particularly jarring.

Zhang pointed to the bride’s tablet above: "Fourth sister-in-law, I ask you, is the person marrying my son truly the daughter of the Xie family?"

Zou looked at the furious Zhang, her eyes flickering for a moment before she answered without hesitation: "Naturally. This tenth daughter of the Xie family is well-read and virtuous; she is a perfect match for the sixth son."

Zhang gripped her handkerchief tightly: "I have asked around. The Xie family's tenth daughter died in childhood at the age of seven. Where exactly did this woman who just passed away come from?"

The Xie family were also merchants who often transported grain to the north and dealt with the frontier garrisons. Their willingness to agree to this ghost marriage was clearly for the sake of the sixth son’s reputation as a hero who died for his country.

The clan was selling the sixth son for a good price.

Zou did not look as startled as Zhang had expected; instead, she wore a look of indifference: "The Xie family admits she is their tenth daughter, so how could it be fake?"

"The Xie family’s grain business has been doing well these years, and there are plenty of people who want to marry into their family. Just a few days ago, a deputy military commissioner came to call, and the Xie family didn't even agree."

The implication was clear: if the sixth Yang son hadn't died, how could he have become the Xie family's son-in-law?

"With an in-law like the Xie family, it will be easier for the ninth son to find a wife in the future. Sister-in-law, don't be foolish and ruin your own good fortune."

Zhang felt as if a knife had pierced her heart. She took a deep, forced breath: "Do you know... that woman clearly didn't die of illness?"

Zou had heard from the servants before she arrived that Zhang was questioning these things, and she found it laughable. Someone who couldn't even manage her own life still had the heart to worry about others.

The third branch had fallen to this state precisely because they couldn't see things clearly.

It was just a corpse for a joint burial; who cared how she died?

Did she think that by figuring it out, that "Xie Tenth Daughter" would come back to life and be grateful to the third branch? That she would repay them?

To put it bluntly, the woman had been bought by the Xie family. Human traffickers had plenty of people of unknown origin in their hands; it was common to kill someone in advance just to sell a corpse. Investigating further would only embarrass both the Yang and Xie families.

"How would I know?" Zou’s voice turned colder. "Since you're so capable, sister-in-law, why don't you let the woman speak for herself and tell you her grievances?"

On such a grand day, she just had to stir up trouble.

No wonder the third branch couldn't even hold onto the position of clan leader.

Hearing Zhang question the cause of death of the "Xie Tenth Daughter," Zou had been startled, but she quickly regained her composure.

What did she have to fear?

Could Zhang report this to the authorities? Even if she did, she knew one thing: there would be no place for her and her son in the clan in the future.

"The old master went to great lengths for the sixth son's wedding, so I had the small kitchen prepare some medicinal soup," Zou said indifferently. "I won't delay you any longer, sister-in-law."

Zhang wanted to say something more, but as she looked up, her gaze swept across a spot, and she froze completely.

Seeing Zhang’s dull expression, followed by a look of terror on her face, Zou wondered what kind of trick she was playing now.

"Sister-in-law, don't try to scare me," Zou scoffed. "I..."

Zou’s voice came to an abrupt halt. Her peripheral vision had just caught a shadow.

A woman dressed in a bright red wedding gown was lowering her head, slowly crawling out of the coffin.

Zou’s eyes widened, and at that moment, even her breathing stopped.

Since the sixth Yang son had no remains, the hired Taoist priest had ordered the woman's coffin to be brought in so they could be buried together in the ancestral grave.

Zou was certain that what had been brought over from the Xie family was a corpse.

Now, that corpse was moving...

It was a ghost.

As this thought flashed through her mind, Zou’s entire body went limp. A wave of immense terror washed over her, making her unable to look away.

She watched as the "female ghost" stood stiffly on the ground. The shadow cast by her headpiece covered her face, leaving only her bright red lips visible.

She shook her head, then fixed her gaze on Zou.

At that moment, Zou felt as if she were being hunted.

Sure enough, the corners of the ghost's mouth slowly curled up into a mocking smile, and then she walked straight toward her, step by step.

With her red dress trailing on the floor, the "ghost" walked on tiptoes, swaying unsteadily. Her arms extended from her sleeves bit by bit, her pale fingers half-curled, reaching straight for Zou’s neck.

A chill crawled from Zou’s spine to her scalp... and then, unable to hold on any longer, her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed to the floor.

Zhang, who had witnessed all of this, felt the same terror and was just about to flee the room.

But at the moment Zou collapsed, she saw the "ghost" nimbly kick the ceramic basin used for burning paper offerings toward her.

Zou’s head hit the basin squarely.

This time, it was impossible for Zou not to faint.

What was even stranger was that after doing this, the "ghost" stood up straight, lifted her lowered face, turned, and walked to the altar, picking up the sixth Yang son’s memorial tablet.

By the time Zhang regained her senses, she realized the "ghost" was standing in front of her, handing over the cold tablet.

Though terrified, Zhang’s maternal instinct pushed everything else aside, and she reached out to snatch the tablet and hold it to her chest.

"Was your son loyal and brave?"

The "ghost's" voice, carrying a hint of authority, came from above.

Tears welled up in Zhang’s eyes as she trembled: "My son had a heart of pure gold, fearless and unmindful of death. He fought to the end without retreating. How could he be anything but loyal and heroic?"

The "ghost" pulled open her collar, revealing the blue-purple bruises on her neck—clearly the result of someone else's violence.

The "ghost" parted her lips: "His blood was hot until the very end. What you must protect is his name of loyalty and righteousness. How can you let his coffin become a place to hide grievances and treat human life like grass?"

Zhang’s lips trembled as she silently repeated these words. Soon, her fearful gaze turned firm.

The voice came again: "The sixth Yang son shed his blood for his country and lived a life without regrets. He deserves to be honored."

Zhang felt a glimmer of comfort in her heart at these words; her son deserved as much.

But the tone shifted: "However, in this house, apart from you and your son, no one cares."

Zhang forgot her fear and stared blankly at the "ghost."

"So..."

Xie Yuyan looked at Zhang: "Do not tell these things to them."

"Tell them to those who care. When they arrive, you must recount every single detail without missing a word."

Zhang wanted to ask who those people were and when they would arrive, but suddenly she smelled something burning. She instinctively looked out the window and saw flames shooting into the sky.

Immediately after, there were shouts of people rushing to put out the fire.

Through the billowing thick smoke, a small figure rushed in and darted straight into the main hall.

Yang Qin’s hands were charred black. He panted heavily, looking at Zhang in the room, but quickly shifted his gaze to Xie Yuyan: "I... I set the side room on fire."

Xie Yuyan lifted her head slightly. She had awakened the fainted Yang Qin earlier and learned that it was the seventh year of Zhiping, only then realizing she had returned to sixty-four years ago. She had once been a sage of the Great Liang, holding the power of the empire in her hands and knowing the government affairs like the back of her hand. With just a little thought, she could recall the records of important state affairs in the imperial archives.

Therefore, she knew very clearly that a fire in the Yong'an Ward of Daming Prefecture at this very moment would summon certain people.

"They are coming soon."

***

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