Chapter 15 – The Haunted Manor

Wild grass grew knee-high before the great manor’s gate. A stone lion, its surface darkened with age, lay face-down in the mud — the place had clearly been abandoned for a long time, with not a single soul in sight.

The guards raised their broad-ringed blades and hacked a narrow path through the undergrowth. The wind blew, and with a creaking groan, half a rotted gate collapsed to the ground with a thunderous crash. Dust and debris billowed outward, making a group of men who had walked through blood and storm bristle with goosebumps; they hunched their backs and raised their blades in wary readiness.

Perhaps it was Li San’s influence, but they truly felt that this manor had an eerie, desolate, and unsettling air about it.

Jiang Wei peered through the entranceway. The dim, hollow main hall looked like the gaping, foul-smelling maw of some fearsome beast. He rarely had such instinctive feelings, and the unease came over him immediately. “Your Highness, perhaps we should find another place?”

“Afraid?” said Zhan Changfeng. “That man was not wrong — many people have died here.”

“Is it truly a haunted manor?” Jiang Wei hurried to say. “It would be better to investigate first before making any plans. When it comes to ghosts and spirits, it is better to believe they exist than not. What if you were harmed? What would we do then?”

“The ill fortune of a place comes from heaven, earth, and man,” said Zhan Changfeng, gesturing toward the surrounding mountains. “Its location is actually excellent — the manor is embraced on all four sides by mountain ranges, so it sits squarely and receives squarely, gathering fortune and storing energy, with blessings that could extend for generations. The only pity is…”

She raised her head and looked at the towering, unnaturally lush locust tree rising from within the dilapidated manor’s courtyard. “When there is wood in the center, it forms the character for ‘trapped.’ And a locust tree that thrives in shade, no less.”

Jiang Wei revered spirits and gods yet did not truly believe in them, and he had always been dismissive of feng shui. But when the Crown Prince spoke, how could one argue? Of course, one had to go along with it. “So it is this tree that brought the disaster — I will go cut it down immediately.”

“No need,” said Zhan Changfeng, half-closing her eyes. “Do you remember the river channel we passed just now? The bend in it points directly at this manor, like an arrow drawn on a bow, ready to fire. This is the most taboo formation in feng shui — the Reversed Bow. A Reversed Bow combined with a Trapped configuration — how could the family not be ruined and destroyed?”

“Then we cut down the tree and fill in the river!” Jiang Wei said with conviction, already ready to get to work.

“Heaven, earth, and man — feng shui is only one of the three. If you were to ask how those sixteen households actually died, and when they died, you would learn that it was the son-in-law of the first family who slaughtered all one hundred and twenty members of his household in a single night.”

“The resentment of those one hundred and twenty people was never dispelled and lingered in the world for ages, which is why it brought disaster upon everyone who moved in afterward.”

“Something like that actually happened?” Jiang Wei wasn’t sure whether to be more shocked by the son-in-law’s madness or in awe of His Highness’s vast knowledge. “You know so much, Your Highness.”

Did she know a lot?

She had only heard about this place from the Long-bearded Daoist.

Thinking of the Long-bearded Daoist, she felt a vague sense of dawning realization.

Besides teaching her swordsmanship and Daoist scriptures, the Long-bearded Daoist would occasionally tell her strange and unusual tales, and he would drop hints — intentionally or not — using terms like “beyond the mundane” and “a world apart.” If she thought carefully about it, it became clear that he belonged to the world of the divine and mysterious.

Zhan Changfeng also understood that the Long-bearded Daoist had always been guiding her toward leaving the mortal world.

But why she should leave, and what she would do if she did —

She did not want to stumble blindly down an unknown path, so she had always pretended to be asleep to those hints.

Jiang Wei scratched his head. “Your Highness, you still haven’t said why the tree cannot be cut down and the river cannot be filled.”

“Because the accumulated resentful spirits of all these years have been suppressed within the locust tree. If the tree is cut down, the seal will break.” The seal had been placed by the Long-bearded Daoist himself.

Jiang Wei opened his mouth, and unable to hold back any longer, he spoke frankly: “Your Highness, what exactly are you trying to do?”

He did not know why they had come to Yizhou, did not know why they were dressed as they were, and now had no idea what they were doing at this haunted manor.

The Crown Prince’s decisions seemed to him utterly without logic.

Questioning the decisions of one’s superior was a grave offense, and Jiang Wei regretted asking the moment the words left his mouth. But the Crown Prince, out here, did not seem as lofty and imperious as in the palace — where every word was law — and rather than growing angry, she actually answered.

Zhan Changfeng swept her sleeve and walked into the manor. “I am going to create a god.” For the sake of this infuriating world.

She would seek the Dragon Scale Divine Scripture, but she would not place her hopes of resisting the nation’s calamity on something like the Dragon Scale Divine Scripture.

More than trusting in people or objects, she had always trusted in herself.

The chaos and disaster in this land had originated from the Yin Dynasty — then she would take control of that process herself, and see it through to its end.

Was it not said that the authority of rulers was bestowed by the heavens? Then she would be that heaven.

The gossip craze in Yizhou City erupted. Even old women in the back alleyways knew that someone had moved into the haunted manor on the outskirts of town.

In no time, gambling houses opened large betting pools. The odds on the occupants surviving were as high as 1 to 10, yet no one placed bets on that — everyone was betting on how many would die.

Li San staked everything he owned on the table, then excitedly went to find Master Huang.

Master Huang was running his street stall in the northern part of the city. From the brothel next door came the sounds of music, singing, and laughter; the suggestive lamplight leaked through gaps in the window shutters and cast its glow on his tattered banner.

The banner read: “Fortune Telling and Divination.”

“Master, there’s big business to be had!” Li San whispered into his ear, making it itch. Master Huang shoved him away and waved his hands repeatedly. “No, no.”

Li San was furious at his lack of ambition. “You really are a blockhead. I know you have some real skill — even if you can’t directly confront the strangeness of that manor, once people come fleeing out, surely you can perform a few rituals and exorcise some evil spirits. Look at how that group dresses — even what falls through their fingers would be enough for us to live without worry for the rest of our lives. Haven’t you always wanted to buy your little Xiao Yu out of that place?”

Master Huang glanced toward the brothel, shrunk behind his tattered banner, and shook his head. “You’re wrong. A few years ago, someone sealed the evil spirits inside that manor. Anyone who moves in won’t run into trouble.”

“What did you say?!” Li San grabbed him by the collar and bellowed, his voice cracking.

Master Huang looked at him with pity. “You didn’t bet all your money on it, did you?”

Not just money — he had even bet his land deed!

Li San had bet on exactly three deaths, at odds of 1 to 2 — a far higher payout than bets on total wipeout or a single survivor.

His plan had been perfect: place the bet first, then arrange things on the side — have Master Huang keep watch over the manor and come out to save people at the critical moment.

Stop the death count at three. Even if something unexpected happened and he couldn’t be that precise, it didn’t matter — as long as he saved the man in charge and collected the reward, what did his total stake of less than a hundred taels amount to?

As it turned out… Li San was so angry he wanted to smash something. “Master Huang, oh Master Huang, you’ve ruined me.”

“What has this got to do with me? It’s not as if I told you to bet,” said Master Huang, offering a suggestion: “The odds on them being perfectly safe should be quite high — why not go place another bet?”

“Oh, get lost — where am I supposed to get the money?!” Li San glared at Master Huang. “Brother…”

Master Huang gave his horsetail whisk a flourish and sat with solemn dignity. “Wealth and riches are but external things. This poor Daoist has no need of them.”

“…” Pfft.

Li San raged inwardly for a moment, but he also knew that although Master Huang had real ability, he had no money. Otherwise he wouldn’t spend every day keeping vigil at the entrance of this brothel, unable to buy someone out.

He could never save up any money either, claiming that those who peer into heaven’s secrets court misfortune — destined for isolation, early death, or poverty — and poverty was indeed the lot he had drawn.

Li San could be a bit reckless at times, but he had a sense of loyalty, especially toward Master Huang, who had once saved his life. Seeing the restrained sorrow in Master Huang’s eyes right now, he couldn’t help but sigh. “Brother, at this rate, when will you ever save up a thousand gold?”

Master Huang was silent for a long while, his eyes reflecting the lamplight of the brothel. “Could those people afford to pay a thousand gold?”

Li San’s eyes lit up. He knew there was something to work with. Slapping his thigh in excitement, he said: “A thousand gold? More like two thousand gold at least!”