Chapter 106: The Concealed Scheme (Part One)

Ghosts can persist for a long time, provided their resentment remains undissipated and their spirits avoid the light. However, this female ghost had manifested, and as her yin energy was eroded, her silhouette grew increasingly faint. In the end, only the movement of her lips was visible, though no sound could be heard. Once she had completely vanished, Cha Wenbin stood up, untied my ropes, and said, "Tomorrow morning, go to the kitchen and eat some raw garlic to purge the ghostly aura."

"What about you?"

"I don't need to; I am a Taoist priest..."

That night, in that house, I slept quite soundly. When I awoke, Cha Wenbin was sitting on an old trunk, reading. I caught a glimpse of it; it was a heavy book bound in cowhide. Seeing I was awake, he closed the volume, shook it slightly, and said, "This is a diary written by that woman. After reading it, I find she was a pitiable soul. Go downstairs later and ask Zhu Zihao where those other women were buried after they died."

And where was Zhu Zihao? That fellow hadn't slept in the house at all last night! When I went inside, the room was completely empty.

Where had he gone?

As it turned out, the man had heard the commotion the previous night and had stealthily crept upstairs. It was said that between the second and third floors, he encountered a stray cat that let out a "meow" at him. Terrified, he scrambled away, drove his car as if fleeing for his life, and bolted to a hotel outside. When he woke up this morning and realized he still had two guests, he worried that if something happened to us, he would be held legally responsible.

With no other choice, once the sun had risen, he drove back, only to find Cha Wenbin and me eating breakfast in the garden. He finally let out a sigh of relief.

"My two brothers..."

I had already hurled the bowl of scalding hot porridge in my hand toward him. For a guy like this, I could only say, "Come here, I promise I won't beat you to death!"

Zhu Zihao didn't know exactly how many women his grandfather had; he only knew of five. His grandfather and grandmother were buried together at Wo Hop Shek, the largest public cemetery in Hong Kong. Early that morning, at Cha Wenbin's request, the kid took us to see it.

There is a significant difference between aristocratic graves and those of commoners here. Land is scarce and the population is dense in Hong Kong, making cemetery plots exorbitantly expensive. Ordinary citizens either buy a patch of land the size of a palm or have their remains placed in urns within public burial grounds—essentially a wall of small cubicles, each containing an ash urn. Even then, many still find it unaffordable.

The Zhu family cemetery was located at the peak of Wo Hop Shek, an excellent position that even Cha Wenbin praised as a prime site of geomancy. The entire family plot covered nearly forty square meters, surrounded by a few pine and cypress trees two men tall, with railings separating it from the neighboring graves. The entire area was paved with natural marble. In the center lay Zhu Zihao's grandfather, to his left was his grandmother, and further out were his parents, with three empty burial chambers still unsealed.

Zhu Zihao pointed at the empty chambers and said, "Those are for me and my future wife."

I asked, "And what about the third one?"

"I don't know. My father mentioned that the old man had reserved it for someone, but in the end, it seems they weren't buried here. It’s an old family matter; I'm not clear on it. If I really can't make a living one of these days, I might sell this plot; it should fetch a decent sum."

"And what about the people buried here?"

"Just dump their ashes into the wall at the foot of the hill. They're dead and gone—what does it matter where they stay? The living are what's important."

This kid was truly a hopeless spendthrift; he was already eyeing his own ancestral graves.

Cha Wenbin took out his compass to measure the orientation, then said to Zhu Zihao, "With such excellent feng shui, it should shelter three generations of descendants. Theoretically, your generation should still be enjoying wealth and status. Let me take a look."

He walked around the perimeter of the mausoleum, then turned back to stare at Zhu Zihao. "How long has it been since you were last here?"

Zhu Zihao replied dismissively, "I come every year for Qingming and the Winter Solstice."

Cha Wenbin said, "Your grandfather's tomb has fallen into such disrepair; why haven't you fixed it?"

"What's broken?"

Cha Wenbin led him to the back of the tomb, where a crack about twenty centimeters long and a finger's width wide had split the vaulted top, and weeds had begun to sprout in certain sections. If not for the relatively grand facade, it would look no different from a potter's field from the back.

"This..." Zhu Zihao couldn't believe his own ancestral tomb had fallen into such a state. He sighed, "I haven't paid the maintenance fees for the plot in two years, so it's been neglected. I suppose I'm an unfilial son."

Cha Wenbin told him, "With your ancestral tomb in this state, where would your blessings come from? Get it repaired quickly; you have about thirty years of good days left."

"Really?"

"Really! By the way, judging by the position, that empty chamber was meant for someone from your grandfather's generation. Do you know where the other concubines of your ancestors were buried?"

"I honestly don't know. I only heard that those women died under mysterious circumstances. They say such people are 'unclean' and cannot enter the ancestral grave. You're a master; is there any truth to that?"

Cha Wenbin nodded. "It is true. Ancient customs held that those who died before their time—victims of murder, suicide, accidents, childbirth complications, or those who died in foreign lands—were not permitted into the ancestral grave. However, they were still family, and there should at least be a place for the remains to be collected and honored by descendants."

"No letters were left behind. Those women were all childless; where would the descendants come from?"

Cha Wenbin replied, "By seniority, you are the descendant. Even without blood ties, they were your grandfather's concubines. Your house is unsettled, and it has a great deal to do with those women."

Hearing this, Zhu Zihao began to panic. He knelt down before his grandfather's grave and kowtowed, saying, "Grandpa, it's me, Zihao. Look at how I've ended up—I didn't even know the house was leaking. The place is haunted, and you won't even help me. At least tell me where your concubines are buried so I can save up some money to fix your tomb."

I pulled him up and said, "Enough, stop acting like a grandson. The fakeness of it is more than I can stand. Your grandfather is probably so angry he's about to crawl out of the ground; I suggest you don't let him 'help' you."

On the way back, Cha Wenbin sat in the back seat and suddenly asked, "Who is He Xiangzhen?"

*Screech!* Zhu Zihao slammed on the brakes, nearly hitting the guardrail. I was terrified and raised my hand, ready to strike him, but he turned back to ask Cha Wenbin, "How do you know that name?"

Cha Wenbin said, "I found a diary on the third floor written by someone named He Xiangzhen. Who is she?"

I saw Zhu Zihao's expression change. He replied, "My father mentioned her once. It's said she used to be a nanny in the house and later died under mysterious circumstances. People said she was carrying a 'ghost fetus'."

"A ghost fetus?" I asked.

Zhu Zihao continued, "Later, the family hired a master who said a ghost fetus had indeed been produced, which is why there were no descendants. That He Xiangzhen was never formally married; she couldn't enter the ancestral hall without a proper wedding. Now that you mention it, it's possible that empty burial chamber was intended for her."

Cha Wenbin added, "I read in her diary that she was pregnant for two full years without giving birth, always carrying that large belly. Eventually, your grandfather hired someone to look at her, and that person claimed she was carrying something unclean and that she and her unborn child should be burned to death. Afterward, the woman hanged herself on the third floor."

If that were true, the woman named He Xiangzhen was indeed a tragic soul. But was her body really burned?

Cha Wenbin's answer was: "No!"

"I need to find that woman's corpse. It is very strange that the burial sites of the other wives who died after your grandfather are also unknown. Could it be that they were all carrying ghost fetuses as well?"

"Master Cha, is this important?"

"It is vital! The reason that woman's soul did not dissipate and became a vengeful spirit is due to several factors. Besides her resentful death, her body was never laid to rest in the earth. Those whose bodies are cremated within three days of death rarely become malevolent spirits. For those buried, unless there is a deep, heaven-shaking grievance, the ghostly aura, while present, would not be so enduring. Furthermore, that woman was clearly trapped on the third floor; even I had difficulty forcing her out. Had her body been buried in the ground, she would have broken free from the confinement. If that had happened, there would likely have been deaths as soon as you moved in a few days ago."

"Then what do we do?" Zhu Zihao gripped the steering wheel tightly, his face pale. "Let's just leave. We'll find another place. I'm not going back there. I'll find an agent and sell it at thirty percent of the value—anything is better than going back there to die."

"Leaving things unresolved will only harm whoever takes over. Here is what we will do: take me back, and we will search carefully. I have a feeling there is something very special about that house that we haven't discovered yet."

"Something special?" Zhu Zihao recalled for a long time before suddenly saying, "Right, I remember now. There is indeed a place. When I was about four or five, I had a high fever. I was taken to every major hospital in Hong Kong, but they couldn't cure me. Later, my grandfather brought a master from the mainland who said I had been frightened by something unclean. I was small then, running all over the place. I remember there was a door under the stairs in the first-floor living room. It was after I entered that door that I fell ill. Later, that door was sealed shut and painted the same color as the wall. For the past twenty years, no one has been inside."

Cha Wenbin patted Zhu Zihao's shoulder and said, "That's almost certainly it. Hurry!"