Chapter 58
Chapter 58
Mrs. Song realized who she was. The woman was Big Dummy’s birth mother, dead for more than twenty years. Could she know that she had urged her husband to abandon Big Dummy in a valley? To think Big Dummy’s mother had come from the depths of hell for revenge…
“Die!”
The ghostly fire in the female spirit’s hand flew fiercely at Mrs. Song. It latched onto her, searing her fair, soft flesh and bringing an agony beyond words. Yet, she could not utter a single scream.
She grabbed a bowl of water from her bedside and doused the ghostly fire on her body, but the flames raged on, unquenched.
‘Sister-in-law, save me, save me.’
Mrs. Song wailed and begged, but a knot in her throat choked off any sound.
‘Sister-in-law, the one who abandoned your son was Song Yi, not me!’
Without a moment’s hesitation, Mrs. Song betrayed her husband. The ghost floated forward, placed an icy hand over the ghostly fire, and tapped it lightly, extinguishing the flames instantly. Then, she pressed a long, pale finger to Mrs. Song’s chest, rubbing it as if unable to contain her rage. In that instant, Mrs. Song found she couldn't move. She could see, hear, and feel, but her limbs were frozen, her body no longer her own. The sensation was all too familiar. It was sleep paralysis.
“The heavens took pity on me. My son did not die; he was saved by a fortunate star sent from above. But by the laws of heaven, which demand balance, your son, Song Chong, had to die in his place.”
Startled, Mrs. Song shook her head desperately, forcing out a strangled voice.
“My son isn’t dead. He’s about to have his private parts removed, but I’ll sell everything we own to send him to the city for treatment!”
“No. He is dead. Just now, he died a wretched death! Do you know who killed your son?”
Then, her voice shifted from that of a woman to that of a young boy.
“Mother, I died so wretchedly. So, so wretchedly!”
In truth, the voice was nothing like her son Song Chong’s, but Mrs. Song was so consumed by the illusion that she believed it was him.
“No, no. My son isn’t dead.”
Mrs. Song tried to speak, but her voice was choked with shock.
“You’ll soon find out whether your son is dead or alive. Song Yi will return shortly and tell you that Shen Lang beat your son senseless, struck a fatal blow, and that he died before he could be treated. Then, the authorities will take you to the Count’s estate and tell you to name Shen Lang as the murderer. But the ones who truly killed your son are Tian Heng and your husband.”
Mrs. Song wept.
“No, no. My son isn’t dead. And I desperately want that bastard Shen Lang to die, so I will name him as the killer.”
The female ghost’s voice turned furious.
“You dare… Do you wish to die?”
The ghost scraped her long fingernails against the wall, and a phantom flame erupted from their tips. The flame, burning on her nail, drifted closer and closer to Mrs. Song’s eyes.
“Do you wish to die? Shen Lang is a fortunate star, sent by the heavens and returned from the dead. He is my son Big Dummy’s guardian angel. And you dare to harm him? You’re courting death!”
The ghost shrieked, and a cluster of ghostly flames burst from behind her back before vanishing in an instant. At the sight, Mrs. Song wet herself in terror, shaking her head frantically.
“I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die! Sister-in-law, please spare me!”
Though her words were garbled, Mrs. Song pleaded desperately.
“My son can only survive under his protection. To harm Shen Lang is to harm my son! If you dare try such a thing, I will drag you to hell myself, see your life cut short, and watch you fry in its fires.”
“I won’t. I won’t…”
“Tonight, Tian Heng will take you to the Count of Xuanwu’s Estate. In front of many dignitaries, he will order you to name Shen Lang as your son’s killer. You know what you must say then, don’t you?”
Mrs. Song nodded desperately, again and again. She had no idea what words would appease her ghostly sister-in-law, so frantic nodding was the best she could manage.
“At first, agree to whatever Tian Heng says. But once you arrive at the Count’s estate and stand before all the dignitaries, you must change your story. You will say that your son was spying on you while you bathed, and your husband, Song Yi, beat him to death.”
“Ah…”
“Then, in front of everyone, you must name Tian Heng as the true culprit. Tell them he pressured you to falsely accuse Shen Lang and name him as your son’s killer. Beg the highest authority present to grant you justice.”
Fear gripped Mrs. Song. Tian Heng was a notoriously vicious man. If she dared to accuse him, she would be beaten to death on the spot.
“Do not worry. If you accuse Tian Heng, the Count’s estate will protect you. Once Tian Heng is dead, you can return home. Do as I say, and I will reward you with thirty gold coins. With that money, you can remarry and live a life a hundred times more prosperous than this one.”
“Really?”
At those words, color returned to Mrs. Song’s face. A golden light suddenly glowed in the ghost’s hand, and she tossed it under Mrs. Song’s bed.
“I have buried thirty gold coins under your bed. After you name Tian Heng as the culprit, you will find another three hundred gold coins there.”
“Whether you live or die, enjoy wealth and glory or be dragged to hell—the choice is yours!”
Then, with a wisp of smoke, the female ghost vanished without a trace.
Some time passed. When Mrs. Song opened her eyes, her head throbbed as if it might split. Soon, however, she recovered enough to move. Had it all been a dream? Yes, it must have been. But for a dream, her pants were damp, and a fresh burn mark stung her chest.
She remembered it clearly. It was a burn from the ghostly fire. The ghost had scraped her nails, a flame had appeared, and it hadn’t gone out even when doused with water.
‘It was real. The ghost was real. It wasn’t a dream.’
As she replayed the scene in her mind, every detail felt chillingly real. Sunlight was streaming into the house now, everything back to normal, but just moments ago, the room had been shrouded in a dreadful gloom, with bluish will-o'-the-wisps floating everywhere.
‘That’s right, the ghost conjured a golden light in her hand and threw it under the bed, didn’t she? She said she’d give me thirty gold coins.’
With surprising agility, Mrs. Song scrambled out of bed, grabbed a small shovel, and immediately began digging under her bed. What she found stunned her. There really were dozens of gold coins. But even more astonishing, the coins were sealed in ice. To be precise, they were encased in a box of ice, upon which were imprinted the words, “Live or Die.”
It really was a ghost. Where else would a box of ice come from in the middle of summer? The netherworld must be a frozen place for the ghost to have brought this gold. Mrs. Song kowtowed with all her might before the ice box.
“Ghostly sister-in-law, I want to live! I truly do! Please, don’t worry. Your little sister knows exactly what to do. When the authorities tell me to name Shen Lang as the killer, I will immediately say my husband, Song Yi, kicked my son to death, and that Tian Heng forced me to frame Shen Lang.”
As Mrs. Song continued to kowtow, the box of ice slowly began to melt, and the glittering gold coins inside shone with an even more dazzling light.
“Thank you, sister-in-law. Thank you.”
Mrs. Song took this as the ghost’s answer. Of course, a thin box of ice dug up from the ground on a hot day would naturally melt quickly. Mrs. Song gathered the gold coins from the melting ice and counted them one by one. There were exactly thirty. This meant she could get three hundred next time.
* * *
In a remote valley behind Maple Leaf Village, Shen Lang took off the blue skirt with a hint of regret and changed back into his men’s clothes. Cross-dressing was a peculiar experience. To think that he, in drag, was more beautiful than most women…
‘If I went to Thailand, all the ladyboys would be out of a job… Ptooey, ptooey, ptooey!’
Shen Lang quickly dismissed the absurd thought and, with a lingering sense of loss, burned the blue skirt and all the other props. The performance had been flawless. The ghostly fire made from phosphorus, the ice box from potassium nitrate, and the silver needle that had pricked Mrs. Song’s chest—all perfect. Even if there had been minor flaws, he had slipped Mrs. Song a hallucinogen, ensuring she would perceive it all as 100% real.
After burning all the props from his little play, Shen Lang headed for the Count’s estate. On the way, a sudden worry struck him—what if his wife noticed one of her skirts was missing?
‘Probably not, she has so many clothes. But what if she does notice? So what if she does? She wouldn't think I stole it, would she?’
But if she did find out he stole the skirt, what then? He absolutely couldn’t admit he’d stolen it to wear. She’d think he was some kind of pervert with a woman’s heart in a man’s body, and that would be a massive headache.
So what excuse could he make? He could hardly claim that he was so overcome with desire for his wife that he stole her skirt to do unspeakable things with it, then burned it to destroy the evidence after he had soiled it.
* * *
Inside Xuanwu City, Big Dummy's half-brother, Song Chong, was dead. His dream of entering the palace to become a eunuch had turned to dust. He had died so suddenly there wasn’t even time to remove his precious parts. Big Dummy’s father, Song Yi, trembled uncontrollably as he gazed at his younger son’s corpse, screaming at the top of his lungs.
“Why? Why did this happen?”
Tian Heng spoke in a placid tone.
“Which charge is more severe: kicking an innocent boy and injuring him, or kicking him to death?”
Song Yi knew, of course, that the latter would make Shen Lang’s crime far more serious, but he had considered his son’s path to becoming a eunuch a viable one. The charge of assault would have been enough to land Shen Lang in prison. But Tian Heng had viciously murdered his son. Deep down, hadn’t Song Yi considered that this might happen?
“A life for a life. Even a prince who commits a crime is punished the same as a commoner, is he not?”
Of course, the latter part of his statement was utter nonsense, but it sounded like truth when spoken aloud. Tian Heng turned to his subordinate.
“Has the Governor-General’s envoy arrived?”
A man named Tian Qi replied.
“He will be here soon. The heir of the Count of Xuanwu’s Estate and Jin Mulan have personally led a cavalry escort to greet him nearby.”
“Did the Prefect accompany them?”
“Yes, he did.”
“All preparations are complete, and now the east wind blows. Shen Lang is a dead man!”
“A cur who enters the Count’s estate doesn’t become a gentleman.”
“Indeed. But do not forget, our primary objective is to bring down the Count’s estate. We’re merely crushing this stray dog along the way. Once that bastard Shen Lang is in prison, shackle his family, pierce their shoulder blades, and send them to the mines. Work them to death.”
“Understood.”
Tian Heng then turned to Song Yi.
“Song Yi, go get your wife. Dress her in mourning clothes, make her look wretched. Then bring her to the Count’s estate and have her name Shen Lang as her son’s killer. Your wife is the only supposed witness to the murder itself; I’ve already prepared the others.”
Song Yi, his eyes welling with tears, replied, “I understand.”
“He was just one son, wasn’t he? You can always have another. After Shen Lang is dead, I’ll give you the position of Pavilion Head of Hanshui.”
Overcome with emotion, Song Yi trembled and replied in a sorrowful voice, “I understand! Thank you for this opportunity.”