Chapter Thirty-Four: Lost Spirit

In just one night, the red silk that had adorned the He family’s residence for the birthday celebration was replaced with somber white banners, and He An’s remains had been placed in the mourning hall. Among all the grieving relatives, He An’s mother, Madame Liu, wept most bitterly; her cries, raw and heartfelt, lent an even bleaker air to the already oppressive atmosphere.

He Ping’s face was grave with sorrow. As he burned paper offerings, he asked Madame Liu, “Tell me, when Jiu Lang returned last night, he said he’d encountered a ghost. Afterwards, I asked you to keep him company. Did he say anything to you then?”

Madame Liu, hearing her husband’s question, could not help but shed tears of grievance. “Husband, I wanted to tell you about this last night before bed, but you’d drunk so much that you kept nodding off. I barely said a few words before you scolded me for talking too much! If you’d acted sooner, found someone to drive away the evil for Jiu Lang, perhaps he wouldn’t have died!”

He Ping was taken aback. “What happened, tell me now!”

Madame Liu nodded and recounted in detail what He An had told her the previous night.

A dozen miles north of He Family Village stood a grove of elms, each tree twisted and ancient, dense beyond compare.

Just past noon, He Ping led a group of villagers into the grove, each carrying machetes and hoes, searching for something. Suddenly, someone cried out, “Second Uncle, I found the grave!”

“Where is it?”

“Right by the path ahead!”

Brushing aside the grass, He Ping saw a weathered tombstone. His eyes widened when he read the inscription: “Erected in the twenty-first year of Taihe, Great Wei.” “Yes, this is the one!” he declared. Turning to a man beside him, he asked, “Sixth Brother, are you sure your method will work?”

The man was He Ping’s cousin, He Liang, a lifelong devotee of the Book of Changes, who often advised villagers on feng shui and auspicious dates for weddings and moves.

He Liang said, “Second Brother, you can trust me on this! From what you and Second Sister-in-law said, the culprit behind Jiu Lang’s death is undoubtedly a mountain spirit, and I suspect it’s the uncorrupted corpse within this grave. All we need do is dig up the tomb and burn the bones—then everything will be settled. We’ll avenge Jiu Lang and ensure no further harm!”

“Alright, I’ll follow your lead!” He Ping nodded firmly, then shouted to the young men, “Don’t just stand there—dig!”

Some of the young men were timid, hesitating. “Second Uncle, Sixth Uncle, are you sure this is safe?”

He Liang replied, “What are you afraid of? I picked this hour deliberately—look up, the sun is at its height and the yang energy is strongest. No ghost or demon would dare cause trouble now! If you don’t dig now, would you rather come back at night?”

The young men, terrified at the thought of digging at night, hurried to work. With so many hands, the mound was soon dug several feet deep, and a black coffin emerged from the earth.

All were astonished at the sight; He Liang remarked, “See? I was right. This grave is over a hundred years old, yet the coffin hasn’t rotted—there must be something strange inside!”

“Sixth Uncle, what should we do next?”

“What else? Pull out the body and burn it. That’ll end it.”

The young men took up hammers and began prying at the coffin lid. As it was opened, the boldest among them peered inside, but their expressions instantly turned eerie.

He Ping and He Liang, blocked from view, asked, “What do you see?”

The young men quickly made a gap so the elders could see. At a glance, He Ping and He Liang saw straight to the bottom of the coffin—a gaping hole had opened in its base, fresh earth visible beneath, and the coffin itself was empty. The corpse was nowhere to be found.

He Ping and He Liang exchanged a look; even under the blazing sun, a chill crept down their backs.

Meanwhile, outside Husu County, carriages belonging to the Cui family were queued to enter the city.

Cui Ye glanced outside, then turned to Cui Yu with a smile. “Fourth Sister, we’ll be home soon!”

“Mm,” Cui Yu replied, her voice weak.

Zhou Hongxian looked at her, concerned by her pale face. “Fourth Mistress, are you feeling unwell?”

Upon hearing Zhou Hongxian’s gentle inquiry, Cui Yu’s eyes reddened and she immediately leaned into her embrace, voice frail. “Sister, I don’t know what’s wrong. I just feel so weak all over, and whenever I close my eyes, I keep seeing what happened last night in He An’s room!”

Seeing her distress, Zhou Hongxian realized Cui Yu had been deeply traumatized. She gently held Cui Yu, soothing her with soft words. “Don’t be afraid, Fourth Mistress. It’s all over now. Just rest when we get home and don’t think about anything.”

Comforted, Cui Yu smiled faintly and nodded.

The carriage soon arrived at the Cui residence. By then, Cui Yu looked even more exhausted, yawning repeatedly as she disembarked.

In the inner chambers, they greeted Madame Lu. Unaware of their ordeal, Madame Lu assumed Cui Yu was merely fatigued from travel and told her to rest. Cui Yu, still shaken, asked Zhou Hongxian to stay with her. Seeing her condition, Zhou Hongxian agreed.

To lift Cui Yu’s spirits, Zhou Hongxian recounted a few humorous stories she’d heard in her previous life, making Cui Yu laugh heartily. Before long, Cui Yu drifted off to sleep, smiling. Zhou Hongxian believed her simply frightened and thought a good rest would restore her.

But soon, circumstances changed. Cui Yu developed a high fever and began muttering incoherently, her sleeping face anxious as if plagued by nightmares. Zhou Hongxian tried to rouse her, but it was futile.

Growing anxious, Zhou Hongxian suddenly recalled a possibility. She placed her hand on Cui Yu’s forehead, using her magical power to probe her soul. What she discovered shocked her—she cried out in alarm, “This is bad!” For Cui Yu’s seven spirits were intact, but one of her three souls was missing.

According to Daoist belief, a person has three souls: the prenatal radiance, the bright spirit, and the shadow essence. Prenatal radiance governs longevity, bright spirit governs fortune and wisdom, and shadow essence governs vitality. Cui Yu was missing her prenatal radiance.

Without it, a person becomes listless and short-lived. Cui Yu, young and healthy, had no reason for such loss. Zhou Hongxian surmised that Cui Yu’s prenatal radiance had been frightened away the previous night.

Unable to sit still, Zhou Hongxian knew Cui Yu’s soul must be lost in He Family Village. She had to retrieve it immediately; it was already the second day—wait any longer and it would be too late.

Just as Zhou Hongxian prepared to depart, Madame Lu knocked outside. “Yu’er, are you awake? I just heard from Ye’er that you all encountered something frightening at He Family Village. I was worried you’d been frightened, so I came to keep you company.”

“If Madame Lu sees Fourth Mistress like this, she’ll surely question me. There’s no time to explain!” Zhou Hongxian thought, and before Madame Lu could enter, she transformed into a breeze and slipped away.

He Family Village lay over thirty miles from Husu County. Zhou Hongxian arrived in moments, but to avoid arousing suspicion, she concealed herself with an illusion.

She first visited He An’s room, the scene of last night’s incident. The He family, deeming the room inauspicious after the events, had sealed its doors and windows with boards that morning. But for Zhou Hongxian, unseen by any, such barriers meant nothing.

Yet, after searching the entire room—even beneath He An’s bed—she found no trace of Cui Yu’s soul. Since it was daylight, the soul could not linger in light, so Zhou Hongxian searched every shadowy corner of the He patriarch’s house, but still found nothing.

By the time she finished, dusk was falling. Anxiety seized her heart, for at night, Cui Yu’s soul could wander anywhere, making it nearly impossible to find.

“Oh Fourth Mistress, such a good girl—I cannot let you die in vain. Rest assured, even if I do not sleep for a moment, I will find you within two days!” As the moon rose, Zhou Hongxian stood atop a nearby roof, not far from He An’s mourning hall, and silently vowed to the sky.