Chapter 19: Do You Believe Me Now, My Lord?

Qian Youcai called over a group of men, ordering them to follow him to the old family estate to get to the bottom of the matter. He wanted to prove to everyone that it was not his family’s feng shui that had gone sour, causing his ancestors to sigh in lament over their unfilial descendants.

At first, the men were naturally unwilling to get involved in such a business. Qian Youcai responded with a cold smirk and a wave of his hand. Seven or eight fierce-looking martial artists immediately stepped forward. Just as the crowd expected Qian Youcai to use his power to bully them, those few martial artists simultaneously unhooked bags from their waists and tossed them forward. Large handfuls of copper coins mixed with bits of silver scattered everywhere.

Qian Youcai’s voice then rang out: "I have plenty of money, young master. Will you come or not?"

Faced with this, who could refuse?

"We’ll come! We’ll all come, young master!"

...

And so, Qian Youcai led a large, boisterous group into his family’s old estate. The steward, seeing the second young master arrive, hurried forward to welcome him. Qian Youcai simply waved a hand and commanded, "Move all the tables and chairs to the front of the main hall. Prepare torches and lanterns for the whole night. And serve up the best wine and meat."

"Young master, this is...?"

Qian Youcai turned back to point at Du Yuan and the men, saying, "Hmph, I intend to make this Taoist priest admit defeat. I also want these rough men to know that my Qian family has no supernatural disturbances—only a Taoist priest who has set his sights on my family’s wealth!"

The steward was confused, but since Qian Youcai was the head of the household, he obeyed. Soon, the courtyard in front of the main hall was filled with seven or eight tables, each laden with strong spirits to sharpen the mind and cooked meat to accompany the drink. Most of it was local poultry, though the beef often seen in novels was nowhere to be found—after all, draft oxen were far too valuable.

Even so, the men were deeply moved. To be able to eat meat, and such fine fare at that, was a rare treat for them. Before long, they were merry with wine and food.

Du Yuan did not drink; he disliked alcohol, believing it clouded the spirit. He simply sat to the side, eating duck prepared in some unknown fashion. It was tender, flavorful, and rich without being greasy, bringing out the savory essence of the meat to perfection.

Beside him, Qian Youcai sipped some warmed wine and said, "Taoist, why not have a drink to steady your nerves?"

Du Yuan perked up and replied, "I possess spiritual arts and a heart filled with righteousness; why would I need to steady my nerves?"

Qian Youcai laughed mockingly, "Ha! I meant that when the truth comes out later and I prepare to hand you over to the authorities, don’t go fainting from fright!"

Du Yuan waved his hands repeatedly. "The night is still young. Do not speak too soon."

Qian Youcai, sitting among the martial artists, laughed even harder. "You might not know it, Taoist, but I am well aware that the imperial court has grown quite dissatisfied with swindlers like you lately!"

Du Yuan laughed with a carefree air. "Oh, that has nothing to do with me. After all, I am different from the rest!"

"Hmph, just wait and see, Taoist."

"This poor priest shall wait and see, Young Master Qian."

Du Yuan was not afraid that the men had made a mistake, for even if this were a hoax, it did not matter—he was the real deal! For Du Yuan, this situation was a win-win from the very beginning. If it were real, everyone would be satisfied; if it were fake, he would simply continue to play his part. He would merely adapt his story to fit the circumstances. Besides, Du Yuan did not believe the man was lying; he had seen that specific look of terror in Bridgehead Town before. Most likely, something real was happening here.

As the full moon hung high in the sky, the group grew alert, eyes fixed on the open doors of the main hall. However, as two or three hours passed in the darkness with nothing happening, the crowd—whose enthusiasm for drinking had waxed and waned several times—began to look suspiciously at the man who had first spoken and at Du Yuan. Qian Youcai, sitting at the front, stared at them both with a constant, cold sneer.

The man himself was baffled. It was nearly the fifth watch of the night, so why was there not a sound from the hall? Seeing the suspicious glares from the crowd and even his own companions, the man broke into a cold sweat.

At this moment, Qian Youcai spoke up, "You brute, it’s nearly the fifth watch. Why haven't we seen any of these spirits and ghosts you spoke of?"

Glancing at the martial artists behind Qian Youcai, who were cracking their knuckles, the man looked as if he might kneel at any moment. He could only look left and right at the hall, scratching his head in anxiety. Finally, he stammered, "Second Young Master, I am truly not lying!"

"Hmph, 'not lying' indeed." Qian Youcai snorted, causing the man to drop to his knees. Ignoring him, he turned to Du Yuan. "And what about you, Taoist?"

Du Yuan smiled. "With over twenty stout men here, the yang energy is naturally strong. Furthermore..."

Du Yuan’s gaze swept across the brightly lit hall and courtyard. "I once heard of a hunter in the mountains who ran into a 'ghost wall' while returning home at night. He circled around for two or three hours, unable to leave a ten-zhang radius! Fortunately, though he had never offered sacrifices to the Mountain God, he always spared animals with young and left behind unripened mountain goods, showing respect for all living things in the wild.

"Because of this, although the Mountain God did not rescue him personally, he sent a gentle breeze to blow away the miasma from his spirit. It reminded the hunter that he happened to have a fire-starter on him. When that bean-sized flame flickered to life, the path ahead suddenly revealed itself. Only then did he realize that ghosts are afraid of the fires of the human world!"

The men, having never heard such a story, crowded around to listen. Even the martial artists couldn't help but stretch their necks. After all, they usually only heard the same old tales from street storytellers. This was the first time they had heard something so fresh!

The martial artists' reaction made Qian Youcai feel he was losing face. He slammed his hand onto the table. "Enough of this nonsense! Fine, I’ll humor you one last time. You two, go and seal the courtyard gate. Don't let this Taoist run off in the dark! And the rest of you—extinguish the lights and put out the fires!"

At the master's command, the martial artists immediately moved. The two who had stretched their necks the furthest, and were thus singled out, went out of their way to brandish their sheathed sabers as they passed Du Yuan, hoping to show off. Du Yuan just shook his head, amused.

Once the gates were bolted and all the lights extinguished, only the bright moonlight illuminated the world. After looking around and waiting for a sigh that never came, Qian Youcai barked, "Taoist, do you have anything to say for yourself now?"

"Sigh!"

"Hey! Taoist, you have the nerve to sigh?" Qian Youcai was about to explode when he felt a martial artist tugging frantically at his sleeve. He turned back impatiently. "Why are you pulling on my sleeve?"

The martial artist, who had been as brave as a bear during the day, was now trembling like a sieve. His throat moved convulsively as he stared into the depths of the hall, cold sweat beading on his beard. "Young Master, there is... there is something behind us... sighing!"

"What?!"

Qian Youcai’s eyes went wide. As he turned back to look at the hall where his ancestors were enshrined, he heard it too, echoing from the empty room:

"Sigh—!"

After a moment of shock, Qian Youcai forced a show of calm. "Light the torches! Bring the lamps!"

The martial artists were already on the verge of tears. "Young Master, we tried! They won't light!"

Qian Youcai looked to his side and saw two men frantically striking their flint. Even though sparks were flying everywhere, they could not ignite the torches, which were soaked in oil and should have caught instantly!

Just then, Qian Youcai felt a prickling sensation like needles on the back of his neck. He heard it with crystal clarity from the hall:

"You—!"

With a clatter, Qian Youcai tumbled to the ground. In the midst of this sheer terror, a lantern was extended from behind him, illuminating a small circle of space. Qian Youcai, clutching at a straw, cried out in joy, "Who? Who lit the lantern? I will reward you handsomely!"

The idea that ghosts feared the fires of the human world had been deeply rooted in their minds, becoming their last shred of hope. As they looked up along the light, Qian Youcai’s exclamation choked in his throat—the young Taoist, who had just spoken of ghosts fearing fire, was now casually hooking the lantern handle with two fingers.

With a smile that was not quite a smile, looking down upon them all, he said, "Does the Young Master believe me now?"