The piercing sound of the suona sliced through the quiet air of the alley like a dagger. Féng Yùshù pressed herself into the corner between two buildings, peeking out timidly.
On the empty street, two columns of footmen dressed in white swaggered through town in uneven steps. The two at the front blew trumpets, and the two at the rear wore white blossoms pinned to their bodies, scattering tiny red paper flowers onto the road's edges as they marched.
In the middle of the procession, four footmen each bore one corner of a pedestal. On its lotus platform stood the dynamic figure of the Snake God.
Master He's servants had brought the Snake God out of the ancestral hall.
This bizarre sight nearly made Féng Yùshù cry out, but she recalled Níng Zhé's warning when they parted. She forced herself to remain calm, pressed her hands over her ears, buried her face in her chest, and curled up without moving.
"Don't listen to anything anyone says, don't believe anything anyone does, don't accept anything anyone offers…"
"Don't listen to anything anyone says, don't believe anything anyone does, don't accept anything anyone offers…"
"Don't listen to anything anyone says, don't believe anything anyone does, don't accept anything anyone offers…"
Féng Yùshù repeated the mantra inwardly, too afraid to move.
The grating suona sound drew nearer. The ritual procession came from the direction of the ancestral hall and halted just yards from her hiding spot. The closeness and her solitude heightened her terror.
Then, for unknown reasons, the suona abruptly stopped.
"Eh…eh?" Féng Yùshù lifted her tear-streaked eyes to the street. The footmen bearing the Snake God statue had halted.
On the uneven bluestone, a pool of bright red blood had formed. One of the lead footmen carrying the suona lay fallen, his head split open and bleeding.
"So that's why…" Féng Yùshù's confusion vanished. "They've violated a taboo too. They're worshipping the Snake God, and they're carrying the statue without knowing where they're going, so their luck is terrible—they fall even as they walk…"
Before this thought could linger, she shook her head vigorously to dispel it. She forced herself not to think about what happened on the street, lowered her head again, and adopted the ostrich pose Níng Zhé instructed: don't listen, don't care, don't intervene.
Moments later, the suona resumed.
The leader, despite his bleeding head, and his companions joyfully blew their suonas again, parading the Snake God through the streets.
The music faded into the distance, and an eerie calm returned, bringing Féng Yùshù a measure of relief.
Suddenly, a thunderous crash shattered that fragile peace.
Boom—a shattering sound that sent Féng Yùshù into a convulsion of fright. She fell, struggling to push herself up. When she looked up, the procession had stopped once more.
"Are they cursed again?" she wondered.
Before she could dispel the thought, it was dismissed on its own. This time, misfortune had struck more broadly than just the footmen.
On the street, blood spattered in all directions. A tall wooden statue lay toppled, its immense weight pinning the four footmen who bore its base. Their bodies were crushed, intestines bursting out in pale coils that pooled messily on the ground.
Nearby, the Snake God statue itself lay shattered.
Seeing the fragmented wooden sculpture of the Snake God, shock overwhelmed Féng Yùshù.
"The Snake God is unlucky too…"
Had the Snake God violated the taboo as well? At this thought, Féng Yùshù bit her own pristine wrist. The sharp pain expelled distracting thoughts. She curled up again, determined to heed Níng Zhé's command: don't care, don't think, don't interfere.
Perhaps by fortune, she buried her head at the perfect moment. Crouched with her arms around her knees, she did not see the crushed footmen rise unperturbed. The procession gathered the Snake God's shattered pieces, placed them back on the lotus pedestal, and the off-key suona resumed.
Bearing the broken corpse of the Snake God, they continued toward the He Mansion.
Red flowers and blood marked their path. The procession staggered and fell repeatedly; their flesh was abraded by the sharp edges of the stones. At times they could not evade falling objects: one footman was struck by a signboard that fell from a shopfront.
The heavy plaque sliced his neck in two. His round head, still connected by blood vessels and tissue, rolled into a corner. Yet the head's owner continued to sway and blow his suona—only no sound emerged.
When the relentless suona finally receded, Féng Yùshù dared to lift her tear-stained face. She leaned against the wall, mind blank, waiting for Níng Zhé to end this nightmare.
She looked up at the clear blue sky—but suddenly a man's figure blocked her view.
"Madam, why didn't you answer my call?" he asked.
Féng Yùshù screamed and collapsed. She had no strength to move. The silent figure beside her was unmistakable.
"Zhāng Yǎngxù…" Terror flooded her face, her heart mired in dread. Rage, struggle, and helplessness seized her.
Zhāng Yǎngxù took a step forward, his expression earnest. "Madam, I know you suspect me—so I don't expect you to trust me immediately. I just want you to listen. What Níng Zhé warned you may not be entirely true."
"No, no, no…I won't listen…I won't believe you… I…" Féng Yùshù's lips trembled. She shook her head and struggled to crawl away. Behind her, Zhāng Yǎngxù advanced.
He seemed patient, unwilling to frighten her further. With a gentle demeanor he spoke earnestly, "Madam, I don't ask for your trust. I only ask that you hear me out—just listen, okay?"
"No…no…don't come near…" Féng Yùshù teetered on the edge of collapse, her gaze unfocused, shoulders trembling. "I will never believe you…"
"You don't need to believe me, madam. Just hear me out." Zhāng Yǎngxù's tone softened. "This morning, when you and Níng Zhé were at the ancestral hall, you—"
Before he could finish, the sound of falling roof tiles interrupted him. A slate tile dislodged from the roof and struck Zhāng Yǎngxù on the head.
In a cruel twist, it fell point-first like a thrown playing card, impaling his unguarded skull and piercing his brainstem.
He died instantly.
Zhāng Yǎngxù collapsed before Féng Yùshù, but no corpse remained. His blurred figure dissipated into wisps of smoke, revealing what she already knew.
"A ghost…" Her shoulders still trembled, but the fear that gripped her heart eased. "It must have been Níng Zhé. He found a way to curse the ghosts too…"
Though Níng Zhé was not beside her, he continued to intervene in the ghosts' actions by unexplainable means, still protecting her. That long-lost sense of safety grounded her, like a drowning person clutching a lifeline.
The rules punish all who break them—equally, whether human, ghost, or god.
Chapters in advance there: patreon.com/Thaniel_a_goodchild
Reference Glossary
Suona – A traditional Chinese double-reed woodwind instrument known for its loud, piercing sound.