Chapter 18: It Must Be You, That Braggart Cow!

The young gentlemen riding tall, magnificent horses were strangers to everyone. No one even knew if they truly belonged to the Qian family. Yet, the few sturdy, well-built guards clad in short garments were unquestionably genuine warriors. Immediately, the group of rustic villagers who had been digging in the dirt shrank back in fear. Throughout history, it has always been wise neither to quarrel with officials, nor to challenge power, nor to fight against influence.

Only one man dared to speak, quickly waving his hand to calm the situation. “Young master, please don’t be like this. I truly am not lying—otherwise, why would I have gone to Ziyun Temple?”

The young nobleman had already dismounted his horse, with the warriors naturally following closely behind. It was only then that the men noticed, to their astonishment, that each guard bore a weapon—and not the crude sabers used by corrupt officials. These were proper waist swords, crafted with far greater finesse than those wielded by any constable. This realization only deepened their dread, silencing any attempts to back their companion.

The young master himself carried no weapon, but with a single swift motion, he seized the man by the collar and dragged him close. Evidently, he was well-practiced in martial arts and physical training.

“You dare to spout nonsense? Then tell me, under the clear and vast heavens, where in the Qian family is there any talk of strange forces or ghosts? Especially in our main hall?!” The young master’s anger blazed fiercely.

In this era, many families enshrined ancestral tablets prominently in their main halls, though some wealthy households might build separate ancestral shrines. Such luxuries, however, were reserved for the exceedingly rich and noble. The Qian family was certainly affluent, but when their old residence was constructed, they had not yet reached such heights of wealth.

Therefore, for the man to claim that he heard sighs emanating from the Qian family’s main hall at midnight was tantamount to accusing the family’s descendants of impiety and disrespect, angering their ancestors.

The man trembled all over, beads of sweat streaming down his neck and spine uncontrollably. His voice quivered with a hint of tears as he pleaded, “Young master, please believe me—I truly did not lie! At the hour of midnight the night before last, when I rose from bed, I really did hear faint sighs coming from inside!”

“You dare lie to me!” The brocade-clad young master’s fury erupted, his voice sharp and commanding. “Where the ancestral tablets of our twelve forebears, including our venerable founder, are enshrined—how dare you, a filthy and uncouth wretch, slander them? You deserve a beating!”

He shoved the man to the ground. “Guards!” At the command, two bear-like warriors leapt forward to pounce on the fallen man. Though they showed no intent to draw their blades, their immense strength alone could reduce him to a bloody mess with a few punches.

Moreover, this was no mere beating that would end quickly. The man would likely suffer without reprieve. Regardless of the Qian family’s power, even a magistrate would deem the man worthy of punishment.

Filial piety is a timeless virtue! To accuse a family’s ancestral hall of being haunted is to brand them as unfilial. If the Qian family were truly disrespectful, an enlightened magistrate might side with the accuser. But could the Qian family be unfilial? Their previous generations prospered in the prefectural capital, never neglecting their ancestral home, which they carefully maintained and guarded.

Thus, the crowd scattered, fearful of incurring the young master’s wrath and facing a brutal, undeserved beating.

Just as the guards’ fists were about to fall, a voice rang out: “Hold!”

The two warriors froze, turning toward the speaker—a young man who appeared to be a monk. Instinctively, the guards glanced toward their master.

No one wished to provoke monks or Taoists.

The young master turned to the newcomer, “Monk, what is your business here?”

Another monk, he thought with a sigh.

The newcomer shook his head and replied, “Not a monk, but a Taoist. I have a permit to prove it.”

He produced the permit again, and upon seeing it, the young master grinned. “Ah, so you are a Taoist indeed. But why do Taoists wander outside the temple meddling in such trifles?”

Then his tone suddenly grew stern. “Could it be that you and this wretched rustic are conspiring to fabricate mysteries and deceive the villagers? If that’s the case, you have chosen the wrong target, for the Qian family is not to be trifled with!”

His words rang with conviction, as if accusing the Taoist of colluding with the peasant to create a ruse.

Yet the villagers around did not believe it—first, because they truly knew the man, and second, because they sensed the Taoist was no ordinary person.

The Taoist smiled wryly and shook his head before addressing the young master, “Young Master Qian, is that correct?”

“Of course! I am Qian Youcai, the second son of the Qian family. Youcai, meaning ‘talented’!”

An odd name, not one befitting a wealthy household, but he was proud because it had been conceived by his father after three days and nights of thought.

The Taoist was unaware of this backstory and had no need to be; he simply looked at Qian Youcai and said, “Young Master Qian, if nothing is amiss at your ancestral home, then why have you returned with such a show of force?”

From what the Taoist knew, trouble was confined to the southwest, while the rest of the realm remained peaceful. It was unlikely that an ordinary noble would return accompanied by armed men unless for a matter of great importance.

Qian Youcai’s expression faltered slightly. “I did receive news from the steward, but it’s not some fabricated tale by that rustic. Rather, someone wishes to sully the Qian family’s reputation!”

Though he did not elaborate, it was clear that even the steward of the Qian estate had noticed the strange occurrences, prompting the second son’s urgent return.

Yet the Qian family clearly did not believe in ghosts or demons; otherwise, they would not have sent only one young master with a few armed guards.

Suddenly, Qian Youcai grasped the Taoist’s hand firmly, staring intently. “I was wondering why the Qian family, known for goodwill, would be targeted by troublemakers—and now I understand. It is you, Taoist, seeking to extort money by exploiting my family, is it not?”

“You bribed that rustic to concoct mysteries, exaggerate incidents, and draw my family’s servants here. Then, you appear to exorcise demons and collect offerings, don’t you?”

For a moment, the Taoist could only admire the young master’s cunning. The name might be strange, but the boy was indeed talented.

Perhaps, under normal circumstances, his suspicion might even be true.

But now, with horse demons, zombies, and ghosts appearing, none of it seemed strange anymore.

For the sake of his own experiments and for this unfortunate soul’s sake, the Taoist smiled gently and placed his hand over Qian Youcai’s gripping fingers.

“Since Young Master Qian is so certain, why not invite this humble Taoist into your ancestral home to investigate? After all, night is falling, and the truth will soon be revealed.”

Qian Youcai laughed heartily. “Very well, Taoist. You dare tempt fate. I shall grant you a thorough death and see things through to the end!”