Chapter Forty-Four: The Vengeful Specter

The full moon hung high in the sky, as round and luminous as a silver platter. Zhou Hongxian had been sitting in meditation atop the roof for quite some time, breathing in the moonlight with every cycle, her mind growing ever clearer. She lifted her gaze to the heavens, only to notice a large dark cloud drifting in from the west, intent on swallowing the silver disc whole.

“Is it going to rain tonight? Should I go inside to avoid getting wet?” Zhou Hongxian muttered to herself. Then she shook her head and chuckled with self-mockery: “How foolish can you be, Zhou Hongxian? The loving couple is busy inside, and you, a lonely single, are you going in to give them tips?” With that, she leapt from the rooftop, landing nimbly on the branch of a tree across from the house. She picked a leaf to chew on, crossed her legs, and lay down comfortably.

“I’ll make do with this tree tonight—the branches are thick, the leaves broad, good enough to shield me from wind and rain. Look at me, don’t I resemble a hero from ancient tales? How romantic!” At this thought, a surge of emotion welled up in her chest, and, lost in her own reverie, she began to hum softly, “Once I dreamt of traveling the world with my sword, to see its splendor and glory. The heart of youth is always a touch reckless, but now you call the four seas home…”

Meanwhile, within the house, Xie Qiao and Liu Qianniang, having just been reunited after a long separation, now sat at the edge of the bed in a gentle embrace. The room was still, save for the faint and cheerful song drifting in from outside.

“Husband, listen!” said Liu Qianniang, raising her head from his chest.

“That’s Lady Zhou, but what is she singing?” Xie Qiao frowned in slight confusion.

“La-di-da-da, la-di-da-da, dum-da, la-di-da-da, la-di-da-da, da-da—”

“…”

Liu Qianniang could not help but cover her mouth and laugh. “The first lines sound like poetry, but I cannot make sense of the rest. Still, the tune is pleasant, and the fox lady’s voice is lovely!”

Xie Qiao smiled faintly. “It’s a peculiar song, likely one only a fox spirit would know—” He broke off suddenly, exclaiming in surprise, “What’s this?”

“What is it, my love?”

Xie Qiao raised his other hand to the lamplight, and to his horror, found it clutching something dark and furry.

“Aah!” Xie Qiao shrieked, flinging the object away. But even as he cried out, he felt the bed beneath him begin to shudder. In the next moment, a horde of black, writhing creatures surged out from beneath the bed, swarming across the floor. Peering closer, he saw it was a mass of rats, their green eyes gleaming as they leapt onto the bed.

Outside, Zhou Hongxian had just finished singing that song by Xu Wei, “Once You.” With nothing more on her mind, she was drifting swiftly into sleep, when the shouts of Xie Qiao and Liu Qianniang jolted her awake.

“What’s going on, is there a thunderstorm?” Zhou Hongxian sat up, still groggy.

“Fox lady, come quickly—save my husband!” Liu Qianniang’s urgent voice sounded from within.

Fully awake now, Zhou Hongxian transformed into a gust of wind and burst through the window. Inside, she found Xie Qiao barefoot on the bed, kicking and stomping in panic as he fought off the swarm of rats. Beside him, Qianniang was weeping in helpless distress.

“Don’t be afraid, it’s only an illusion!” Zhou Hongxian shouted. She flew to Xie Qiao’s side, patted his shoulder, and said, “These rats aren’t real—ignore them. Hurry and put your clothes on!”

Qianniang, eyes brimming with tears, cried, “Fox lady, it’s Yu Erlang—Old Ghost Songpo must be here too!”

Zhou Hongxian nodded. “I know! But my powers are no match for those two. That’s why I want your husband to get dressed—I can take him and run!”

But before she had even finished speaking, a chilling, sinister voice echoed from all directions. Old Ghost Songpo’s presence was unmistakable. “Run? Where could you possibly go? Heh heh heh… Fox lady, don’t be naive!” From outside, thick smoke poured in, coalescing into two clear figures. One was tall and thin, with three oddly mismatched whiskers sprouting from an otherwise normal face—Yu Erlang, the rat demon. The other was cloaked in black robes and had a massive body topped with the head of a wild boar, bristling with hair, its tusks stained with blood.

Though Xie Qiao was only a mortal, his courage was not lacking. Yet never had he witnessed such terrifying apparitions; his lips trembled uncontrollably. As for Liu Qianniang, though a ghost herself and unafraid of the sight, she dreaded the identities of the newcomers. Clutching her husband’s hand, the couple retreated step by step.

Zhou Hongxian widened her eyes in shock. “Zhu Ganglie—the Boar Demon?”

The boar-headed spirit spoke. “Fox lady, all thanks to you! Tonight, I’ll kill you with my own hands and seize your inner elixir to strengthen my power!”

“Elder brother, before that please, let me have her—I have a score to settle!” Yu Erlang interjected, whiskers quivering. He turned to Zhou Hongxian, his face twisted with jealousy. “Fox lady, I once wished to take you as my mate, and yet you betrayed me, helping this mortal. Tell me, have you fallen for him?”

Zhou Hongxian stared blankly at him. “What are you even talking about?”

Old Ghost Songpo flew into a rage, his pig eyes glaring wide. “You’re still jealous at a time like this, brother? You’re ruining the mood! Ah—I just want to kill tonight!” As he shook his body, the house began to tremble, tiles sliding from the roof. Black mists poured from his body, surging toward Zhou Hongxian and the others.

Qianniang saw what was happening and cried out in alarm, “That’s his deathly aura! Don’t let it touch you, or your body will rot away!”

Zhou Hongxian needed no further prompting. Without hesitation, she grabbed Xie Qiao’s arm. “Let’s go!” With that, she pulled him and Qianniang through the roof and into the night.

Outside, the clouds covered the moon, and chill winds howled.

Zhou Hongxian glanced back—the house collapsed like a deck of cards, black smoke rising from the ruins. Amidst the smoke, the old servant’s scream could be heard: “Ghosts!” followed by a final shriek, and then silence.

“Uncle Yao!” Xie Qiao cried hoarsely, tears streaming down his face. On Qianniang’s pale features, grief was plain to see.

Zhou Hongxian’s face was drawn with guilt. “I’m sorry, my powers are limited—I can’t save everyone.” She invoked her shrinking-ground spell, dragging Xie Qiao with her at breakneck speed, Qianniang clinging to his hand close behind.

Yet the black smoke gave chase, swirling after them like a sandstorm.

“Fox lady, with your pitiful power, where do you think you can run? If you surrender yourself to me, perhaps my brother will spare your life!” Yu Erlang’s mocking, shrill laughter echoed from behind.

Old Ghost Songpo’s sinister voice followed: “Qianniang, we shared such affection—I don’t want to destroy your soul. If you return to me, I’ll cherish you still, hahahaha—”

“Xie Ziping, I lay with your wife countless times—she brought even a ghost to ecstasy!”

“You and Magistrate Cui took my life, so now as a vengeful ghost, I’ll take your wife. What, does it not make your blood boil with rage? If you’re a real man, stop running—fight me again!”

Such obscene taunts rang out behind them, making Xie Qiao’s eyes burn red with fury. He roared, straining to break free from Zhou Hongxian’s grip.

She dared not let go. “What are you doing? Xie Ziping, don’t be stupid! He’s trying to provoke you—don’t let yourself be fooled!”

Xie Qiao shouted again in anguish, but did not act rashly.

Qianniang’s sorrowful voice murmured from behind. “Forgive me, my love.”

Xie Qiao suddenly felt her fingers loosening from his, and as he tried frantically to hold on, her cold hand slipped away. He turned to look. “Qianniang, what are you doing? Come back!”

Zhou Hongxian was startled as well. “What now?” She turned to see Qianniang’s soul drifting back, her pale face streaked with tears. “My love, don’t worry about me! We can’t escape Old Ghost Songpo this way. I am already ruined, and you and I—man and ghost—are not meant to be. You should not sacrifice your life for me. The only thing I can do now is hold him back. Farewell!”

She turned to Zhou Hongxian. “Fox lady, you are a good spirit. I beg you—take my husband and save his life!”

“Come back! It’s not time to give up yet!” Zhou Hongxian shouted.

But Qianniang only smiled wanly, turning away as she floated farther and farther behind.

“Qianniang, come back!” Xie Qiao wept bitterly, reaching out in vain.

West of town, Cong’an Temple.

Master Huiwen finished chanting a scripture. He was old and tired, and was preparing to blow out the lamp and rest. Then he noticed his black cat crouched at the door, peering outside.

“Mo Xin, what are you doing?”

The black cat glanced at him, then licked its paw. “Meow—”

“Are you hungry?”

“Meow!”

“A calm heart knows no desires.” Huiwen smiled, then turned and extinguished the lamp.

In the dark, the cat’s emerald eyes gleamed. Soon after, as Huiwen’s snores sounded, the cat pushed open the door and slipped out into the night.

Zhou Hongxian was still dragging Xie Qiao in a desperate flight.

“Xie Ziping, don’t be too sad. Qianniang is a ghost—even if she stayed, you couldn’t be together. Try not to dwell on it.” Zhou Hongxian wanted to offer comfort, but found her words awkward, her tongue clumsy.

“I mean, she did this for your sake. You must pull yourself together! As the saying goes, while the green hills remain, there will be wood to burn. Once we escape this disaster, we can regroup—maybe even save Qianniang again!” She gathered her thoughts, and this time her words sounded kinder.

But none of it seemed to reach Xie Qiao, who was limp and listless, his spirit crushed.

“Fox lady, my brother is busy with that little wretch Qianniang—so let me, Yu Erlang, deal with you first!” That shrill, grating voice was right on their heels.

“Why haven’t we lost this pest?” Zhou Hongxian cursed silently. Her shrinking-ground spell was at its limit—she could go no faster.

A fetid wind swept by, and Yu Erlang appeared before her, blocking their path. The moon broke through the clouds, illuminating his face, which was now sharp and rodent-like.

“Where do you think you’re going now, fox lady?” he sneered.

Zhou Hongxian stopped, exasperated. “We’re all spirits—why must we fight one another? Let me go.”

“Now you remember we’re both spirits? Then why turn me down for the sake of a mere mortal?” His jealousy still simmered.

Zhou Hongxian smiled bitterly. “Brother, it’s not what you think.”

“So you’re willing to accept me? Then let go of that human’s hand!” Right back to the old refrain.

Utterly defeated, Zhou Hongxian glanced at the wooden, unresponsive Xie Qiao, and decided to stop appeasing him. “Must we really fight?”

Yu Erlang’s fury erupted. His face grew ever more rodent-like, three whiskers quivering with rage. “So you really can’t let go of that mortal! Fox lady, tonight I’ll make you regret it—you’ll be begging me before I’m done!” With that, his three whiskers grew even longer, his face sharper, hands and feet twisting into claws, and a rat’s tail burst through the back of his tattered robes. In moments, a rat the size of a water buffalo loomed before Zhou Hongxian.

She blanched with terror. “Good heavens, you weren’t nearly this big last time!”