Chapter Thirty: No Peace to Be Found

Before I could speak, Wei Qi stopped the village chief and pulled him into a corner. "Third Uncle, let's not fuss about the hundred thousand right now. Who told you to frighten someone to death when you took her away? Besides, you all signed the papers. Something important is about to happen in your family."

The village chief paused, his bull-like eyes widening. "Wei Qi, if you've got something to say, spit it out. Stop beating around the bush." In the village, Wei Qi mainly worked with spirits, handling funerals and rites. Though these were good deeds, most villagers saw him as a ne'er-do-well, someone who shirked proper work. Because he was always involved with funerals and looked so unkempt, people avoided him, and he hardly seemed like a normal person. The village chief had little regard for him; if it weren't for the hundred thousand yuan, he wouldn't have bothered with Wei Qi at all.

"Third Uncle, we're family after all. Your surname is Wei, mine too. I'll be direct: your ancestral tomb is smoking." There was no mockery in Wei Qi's tone, and that made me see him in a new light. After years of spirit-walking, all I ever felt was a chill, nothing more.

The village chief's nostrils flared, his chest heaving, face flushed purple with anger, convinced Wei Qi was mocking him. "Wei Qi, stop talking nonsense. Bring the money here, or I'll call the police. I'll have Chief Zhang arrest all three of you for fraud." His voice was loud, and a crowd had gathered to watch the commotion. At that moment, Wang Ying opened the door and stepped out. Her appearance immediately stirred the crowd—everyone had seen her dead and cold yesterday, yet here she stood at the doorway, perfectly fine. Some were so frightened they scattered, while bolder onlookers stayed to watch.

"Look, see for yourselves if they're frauds!" The village chief, seeing Wang Ying, grew even more aggressive.

Wang Ying said nothing. She walked over to Wei Qi and me. "Husband, Seventh Uncle, did you take his money? Give me the card." Wei Qi sighed, shook his head, and handed her the card. Wang Ying went to the village chief. "Chief, make sure you keep your money safe." She tossed it before him and motioned for Wei Qi and me to head inside.

We followed Wang Ying, who slammed the door shut without caring about the crowd outside. Wei Qi sat angrily on a small stool. "Da Chuan, sister-in-law, what do you think we should do?"

I briefly explained the situation, and was surprised when Wang Ying said she already knew about the smoke from the chief's ancestral tomb. The scent on him was the same as the evil spirit that abducted her last night, indicating it was one of his family's spirits.

I felt a chill—so there was a connection after all. Wei Qi realized from our account why the ancestral tomb was smoking: it was because I'd struck the evil spirit with my sword last night.

Wei Qi told me to keep the Three-Foot Dragon Yuan sword close; as long as it was around, the evil spirit would not dare approach, though the villagers might suffer. I asked why the evil spirit hadn't acted before, only to appear yesterday.

Wei Qi admitted he didn't know, but he'd noticed the chief's ancestral tomb had a "young deceased." I knew what that meant—someone buried who hadn't married, regardless of age. Such spirits buried in ancestral tombs would eventually cause trouble.

With this explanation, everything connected. The young deceased’s ghost from the chief's ancestral tomb had abducted Wang Ying last night, and I'd cut off its arm with the Dragon Yuan sword, causing the tomb to smoke. Clearly, something major was about to happen.

After a long discussion, Wei Qi decided to draw talismans using cinnabar, chicken blood, and yellow paper. He found Yingzi, got a few roosters, slaughtered them, mixed the blood with cinnabar, and cut the yellow paper into strips, painting hundreds of talismans.

Yingzi was a generous soul. Seeing Wang Ying didn’t frighten her; instead, she warmly called her “big sister” over and over. We didn’t explain Wang Ying was a ghost, just said she was my wife, unconscious yesterday but awake today.

After finishing the talismans, Wang Ying and Yingzi chatted at home, while Wei Qi and I went door to door handing out spirit talismans, warning villagers that there might be ghosts tonight. We told them to stick the talismans on their doors for safety.

We meant well, but our efforts weren’t welcomed. Many villagers smiled and took the talismans, but as soon as we turned away, they'd toss them aside. As mentioned earlier, villagers now had only one faith: money. Years of Maoist education had eroded all beliefs; they trusted that humans ruled the world, invincible and omnipotent. Wei Qi’s casual manner only reinforced their view of him as an unreliable misfit, except for Yingzi, no one respected him. So they smiled to his face, then threw away the talismans.

Wei Qi wasn't a fool; he noticed this, and some progressive youths were openly disrespectful, blocking us at their door, saying spirit-walkers were "those kinds of people." I didn’t know exactly what that meant, but it was certainly not a compliment.

After visiting a dozen homes, I began to feel discouraged. "Maybe we should stop—after all, that evil spirit might not actually kill anyone." Wei Qi firmly shook his head. "The talismans must be delivered. This is a matter of principle. We do our part; whether they accept is their choice. As spirit-walkers, we must fulfill our duty."

Seeing his earnest expression, I realized this man was the opposite of what he appeared: rough outside, gold within. The deeper I got to know him, the more trustworthy and dependable he seemed. Now I understood why Second Uncle had sent me to him.

After a long round of deliveries, we finally reached the village chief’s home. As we approached the committee’s gate, I felt uneasy; a car was parked at the entrance—it was Zhang Qi’s police car, summoned by the chief to retrieve his money.

I hesitated to enter, but Wei Qi took my hand. "Da Chuan, we're doing good deeds here. Others may not appreciate it, but we must do our part. What are you afraid of?"

I thought it over; I’d be living here for three years—being kind to others was no bad thing. We pushed open the door. There was no mutton stew today, but under the old willow tree, a table was set, and the committee members were drinking with Zhang Qi. The chief and Zhang Qi were both flushed from alcohol. Seeing us, Zhang Qi stood, staggered forward, and said dismissively, "Get out, both of you. Don’t let me see you again. If Secretary Wei hadn’t pleaded for you, I'd have arrested you already."

Wei Qi was unfazed, grinning. "Chief Zhang, what would you do without Secretary Wei's plea? Don't say I didn't warn you—the guarantee letter with your fingerprints is still in my hands." Then he turned to the chief. "Third Uncle, not to lecture you, but is it easy for the village to raise money? You’re feasting here, while so many widowed elders go hungry!"

The chief, seeing us, was unhappy, but Wei Qi’s words made him feel guilty; after all, the government had repeatedly forbidden wasteful banquets. He forced a smile. "Nephew, Chief Zhang is on duty, just having a meal. Why don’t you join us?"

Wei Qi was fond of drink, but he had integrity—he’d only drink with like-minded people, never with these types. He pulled the chief aside. "Third Uncle, I have one last talisman for you. Hang it on your door tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll go with you to your ancestral tomb to see if your younger brother is a young deceased. He needs a ghost marriage, or your family—and the whole village—will never have peace."

The chief’s face darkened. "You child, I’ve been a Party cadre for years. I’ve never seen a ghost."

Wei Qi said nothing more, just repeated his warning, and drew me away. As we reached the gate, I clearly heard the chief’s voice behind us: "Pair of fools, talking about ghosts in the village."

We didn’t look back, but we could already imagine what would happen to the talisman. With the chief’s arrogant attitude, he’d probably tear it to shreds.

Back home, Yingzi was anxious to feed her chickens and left. Wei Qi had planned to head to the county, but hesitated and stayed, saying tonight was unpredictable.

He hung out at my place for a while, as Wang Ying cooked a few dishes. I wanted to drink with Wei Qi—he’d been through a lot lately and deserved a break—but he wouldn’t drink. He told me to keep Wang Ying company tonight, no matter what happened outside, not to go out.

That night, darkness slowly descended. Wang Ying and I sat together, chatting. She told me her story: her hometown was Linyi City; her parents were both officials. Her father was arrested for corruption, and her mother got involved with her boss, eventually remarrying. From the age of seven or eight, Wang Ying lived with her grandparents. She managed to finish college and find a job, but one night, while jogging, a villain targeted her. Trying to escape, she fell into a lake and drowned. As she spoke, her eyes reddened.

Hearing this, I finally understood why she harbored such hatred toward those who wronged her—her heart was full of grievance and sorrow.

I resolved that, apart from loving her well, those who had bullied her must be punished—especially the scoundrel who chased her into the lake; he had to face justice. As for Li Xiang, Li Jun, Zhao Dongsheng, and the others, they were normal acquaintances and hadn’t done anything truly wrong. I believed Wang Ying would understand.

After finishing her story, Wang Ying leaned gently into my arms. Seeing her reddened eyes, my heart ached.

"Husband, thank you for being so good to me! But I still feel regret—why didn’t I meet you when I was alive? Why only after death?" I’d often wondered the same. Her beauty and warmth were everything I wanted, but she was a ghost.

"Wife, what are you saying? Isn’t this perfect?" I gently kneaded her cool, resilient shoulders, feeling moved.

Wang Ying turned, gazing at me silently, and sighed. "Husband, this isn’t perfect at all. I’ve decided—after you’ve accompanied me for a while, I’ll leave. I’m not human anymore, and even if I found the best body, I’d still be a ghost. I can never give you a happy, real future."

Her words tugged at my heart, and I hurriedly held her tight. Just as I was about to comfort her—and myself—a gust of wind howled outside, followed by frantic barking from the neighbor’s dogs.

Hearing those desperate barks, my heart sank. Could it be starting already?