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Zhang Chuanshi led Zhao Fusheng into a small alley beside the coffin shop.
Most of the houses in Wan'an County were short, old, and dilapidated. The alleyways were narrow, crisscrossing like a tangled mess of threads. However, Zhang Chuanshi was exceptionally familiar with this area. He led Zhao Fusheng, ducking left and weaving right, for about half a shichen, before they emerged from a low alleyway and stood before a wall made of red bricks.
The wall was about a zhang high and, compared to the surrounding dilapidated houses, stood out like a crane among chickens.
The tall surrounding wall firmly blocked the view of the interior. From Zhao Fusheng's angle, she could only see the semi-arched roof of the residence within.
The roof was pitch black, giving off a very dull and oppressive feeling, especially where it met the red brick wall seamlessly. The juxtaposition of red and black made it appear even more bizarre.
Zhao Fusheng surveyed the surroundings.
This area was noticeably cleaner than the previous alleyways. There was no accumulated sludge or excrement on the ground. The tall courtyard wall was a world apart from the wattle fences she had seen earlier.
A few steps away, a gate could be seen in the surrounding wall.
The gatehouse door was not tall, and there was only a single door panel, also painted black. It emitted a faint, almost imperceptible stench, a somewhat familiar smell, similar to the lamp oil that had leaked from the broken lanterns she had smelled at the Demon Suppression Division that morning.
Zhang Chuanshi had brought her to find Paper Figurine Zhang, yet he stopped here. This must be Paper Figurine Zhang's residence.
However, Paper Figurine Zhang's family had lived in Wan'an County for generations. They could create 'Ghost Lanterns' and had always maintained a good relationship with the Demon Suppression Division. This indicated that their family was not without means. The main entrance of their residence should not appear so 'petty,' built in an alley that was neither spacious nor convenient for passage, not to mention its unimpressive appearance.
Zhao Fusheng guessed that this must be the Zhang family's back door.
She recalled Zhang Chuanshi mentioning he wasn't familiar with Paper Figurine Zhang. Yet, from the way Zhang Chuanshi navigated here with such ease, the relationship between this 'distant uncle and nephew' might be closer than outsiders imagined.
Zhao Fusheng glanced at Zhang Chuanshi with a half-smile. The old man, caught by her gaze, also looked a bit embarrassed but cleared his throat with a light cough and stepped forward to gently knock on the door.
The 'tap, tap' sound echoed.
This back alley was exceptionally deserted, making the knocking sound particularly jarring.
Before long, footsteps were heard. The door creaked open, revealing a man's stiff face.
The man's face was deathly pale, like a corpse. His eyeballs were grayish, the whites cloudy, as if covered by a layer of gray mist. After opening the door, he didn't seem to see Zhao Fusheng's presence but 'looked' at Zhang Chuanshi, then stepped aside to let him pass.
Zhang Chuanshi entered the house first. Before he could turn around to speak, the man, as if not seeing there was another person outside, reached out to close the door.
Zhao Fusheng's eyebrow twitched. She quickly reached out to push against the black door, then shouldered it open.
She entered the courtyard. The man didn't dodge. Zhao Fusheng bumped his arm and was about to speak when she saw the man, who had been standing perfectly fine moments before, suddenly fall to the ground with a 'thud' the instant she touched him.
"A setup?"
She was startled, then kicked the person on the ground.
The person had lost consciousness. The moment she kicked him, large patches of livor mortis rapidly appeared on his pale face, followed by the thick stench of a rotting corpse. He was clearly long dead.
"..."
This was the first time Zhao Fusheng had encountered such a situation, and her expression couldn't help but change.
Zhang Chuanshi quickly said,
"Zhao—"
"Well, well, Zhang Da, how dare you casually bring people into my home, and even dare to kill my corpse slave—"
A sinister, aged voice rang out. The speaker seemed extremely annoyed, his words laced with killing intent.
Zhang Chuanshi's legs went weak upon hearing this. He quickly said,
"No, no."
Zhao Fusheng turned her head and saw, under the distant eaves, an old man dressed in a black robe standing there, though she hadn't noticed him before.
The old man was about seventy years old, his face a web of ravines, looking very aged.
His figure was exceptionally thin and short, appearing to be a head shorter than Zhao Fusheng.
He was currently hunched over, his neck retracted. His hair was silver-white, somewhat dry and messy, tied in a simple bun on top of his head, with the rest falling over his shoulders like unkempt weeds.
The old man's gaze was gloomy, and he wore an oddly tailored robe.
Although this old man was short and thin, his robe was exceptionally wide, entirely pitch black.
What caught Zhao Fusheng's attention most were his sleeves; the cuffs were at least three chi wide.
The old man's hands were clasped and held beneath his chin. His pair of wide sleeves were like two black door panels, completely concealing him from his neck down to his feet.
As Zhao Fusheng was looking at him, he was also staring at Zhao Fusheng. In an instant, he seemed to understand something, and his already unsightly face became even more sinister.
Zhang Chuanshi first glanced at Zhao Fusheng, then at the grim-faced old man. He bowed and scraped, forcing a smile, unsure which side to lean towards.
"Paper Figurine Zhang?"
A thought stirred in Zhao Fusheng's mind. She tilted her head, looked at him, and called out.
As she spoke, a wind rose from nowhere, lifting a side of the old man's sleeve, revealing a black silk thread tied around his waist.
Paper figurines were strung on the silk thread.
A hole was pierced through the head of each paper figurine, and a black thread passed through the holes, stringing them together like a wind chime. At this moment, they flew with the wind, the paper rustling with a 'hua-hua' sound.
All the paper figurines' heads turned, seemingly in unison, to look in Zhao Fusheng's direction.
But the old man's fingers, hidden in his sleeves, twitched. The sleeve fell back down, once again completely concealing the exposed paper figurines.
"The scent of the Demon Suppression Division?"
Paper Figurine Zhang looked at Zhao Fusheng and frowned.
"It seems the Demon Suppression Division has a new Division Commander, and a ghost-tamer at that." As he said this, he gave Zhang Chuanshi a cold glance, then chuckled twice, "Heh, heh."
"I'm getting old—"
Zhang Chuanshi felt a chill run through him under that gaze.
He knew well how formidable Paper Figurine Zhang's methods were. He immediately disregarded the fact that Zhao Fusheng was also difficult to deal with, quickly scurried forward with small steps, and stood beside Paper Figurine Zhang, whispering,
"She is Zhao Fusheng."
"Who?"
The gloomy-faced old man was unfamiliar with this name. Zhang Chuanshi added,
"The Division Commander whom the Fan brothers brought into the Demon Suppression Division, another person in power after Zhao Qiming."
With this explanation, Paper Figurine Zhang instantly understood Zhao Fusheng's identity, and his face immediately became exceptionally unsightly.
The Fan brothers had bartered with him, exchanging goods for a ghost-dispelling plan called 'Divert the Disaster Eastward.'
Paper Figurine Zhang didn't know the name of the person this disaster was to be diverted to, but he knew this: if the plan succeeded, this 'Division Commander' brought into the Demon Suppression Division by the Fan brothers would undoubtedly die.
And now, not only was Zhao Fusheng not dead, but she had successfully tamed a ghost and come looking for him at this time. Clearly, she wasn't here to cozy up to him!
Thinking of this, Paper Figurine Zhang's already downturned mouth drooped even further, making the nasolabial folds on his cheeks look even uglier.
The Zhang family had been established in Wan'an County for many years, relying on their secret method of making 'Ghost Lanterns,' and had deep roots here.
They were on good terms with officials and nobles, living a smooth and comfortable life.
Although the Wan'an County Demon Suppression Division had declined, and Zhao Fusheng was merely a novice ghost-tamer, she might not necessarily be able to truly harm him. Yet, being troubled for no reason still made it impossible for Paper Figurine Zhang to put on a pleasant face.
"How dare you—"
He first vented his anger on Zhang Chuanshi. As he spoke, the corners of his sleeves trembled.
A faint stench of rot and malice emanated from beneath his cuffs. Sounds of 'hee hee ha ha' laughter arose, and something pushed open his cuff.
Within the pitch-black sleeve, a crimson eye stared coldly at Zhang Chuanshi.
"Please don't misunderstand!"
Seeing his unfriendly expression, Zhang Chuanshi became greatly agitated and hurriedly said, "Lord Zhao has come to consult you on a matter, not to cause trouble."
He knew Paper Figurine Zhang's temperament well. Fearing he would lose his life if he spoke too slowly, he decided to state the main business upfront.
Once these words were shouted out, Paper Figurine Zhang paused for a moment.
"Consult?"
He asked in a gloomy tone. His finger twitched, and the laughter instantly vanished. The fluttering sleeve corner drooped down.
The single eye looked somewhat unwilling as the sleeve fell, glaring venomously at Zhang Chuanshi before being forced back into the darkness.
"What matter does Lord Zhao wish to consult me about?"
The killing intent from Paper Figurine Zhang dissipated. Only after the single eye disappeared did Zhang Chuanshi let out a huge sigh of relief.
At this moment, his bald head was covered in cold sweat. He wiped his hand from his forehead backwards, smoothing his few remaining hairs until they were greasy and shiny, before glancing at Zhao Fusheng.
Faced with Paper Figurine Zhang's question, Zhao Fusheng didn't speak but instead looked at Paper Figurine Zhang with a cold sneer.
This posture made Zhang Chuanshi's heart 'thump.'
Both sides were tough nuts to crack; he couldn't afford to offend either.
Deeply afraid that Paper Figurine Zhang would be angered by the slight, he quickly said,
"Lord Zhao wishes to consult you about a case from forty years ago, a major case that your esteemed uncle, when he was alive, handled together with the then-commander of the Demon Suppression Division."
Paper Figurine Zhang then said in a hoarse voice,
"The Liu Family Ancestral Hall?"