Chapter 49: The Ghostly Siblings

The morning mist hung low over the vast, hundred-thousand-li mountain range, marking the beginning of a new day. The early birds had long since commenced their daily dawn chorus. As was his custom, Yunlingzi returned to his giant-headed doll to sleep before the sun had even crested the horizon. Meanwhile, the twenty or so Miao youths were already awake, beginning their morning studies.

For the first fifteen days of each month, these youths stayed at the Longchang Academy, studying under Wang Shouren. For the latter fifteen, they returned to the Taoist temple to learn from Liaochen, engaging in morning martial arts practice and scripture recitation. In the mornings, Liaochen would lecture on common Taoist spells and rituals, leaving the afternoons for free time. The evenings were reserved for meditation and self-cultivation under the watchful eye of Yunlingzi—a rigorous schedule indeed. Liaochen often felt a pang of regret that his time was too limited to provide more thorough instruction. Truth be told, these youths possessed only modest natural talent and shallow ties to the immortal path; while they might achieve renown as worldly practitioners, the prospect of longevity or immortality remained elusive. Yet, Liaochen reminded himself that celestial affinity was rare; among the billions of subjects in the Great Ming Empire, how many could truly compare to the gifted Yunhua?

As Liaochen sat upon his prayer mat, listening to the youths chant the obscure scriptures, his gaze suddenly shifted toward the door. Moments later, a snow-white pigeon fluttered into the Sanqing Hall, momentarily silencing the recitation. Liaochen gave a soft cough, and the chanting swelled once more like a boiling cauldron. He extended his left hand, and the pigeon landed on his palm, instantly transforming into a paper crane. The youths, who had been distracted and feigning focus, watched this miraculous sight with immense envy. Daring not show their awe, they raised the volume of their chanting to steady their wandering minds. Liaochen smiled faintly, unbothered. Youthful minds were naturally fickle; there was no need for harsh reprimand.

The paper crane was from Yunhua, detailing the troubles caused by the Ghost Mother of Nine Children and requesting Liaochen's assistance to prevent her from further harming the world. In truth, Liaochen had already divined the nature of the crisis, but he had refrained from interfering prematurely, wishing to let Yunhua gain experience. Now that his eldest disciple had sent a plea for help, he had to depart immediately. He would have to take Yunlingzi along, or the creature would surely turn the temple upside down. With no other choice, he sent the youths to Wang Yangming’s care to ensure they wouldn't run wild in his absence.

After writing a long letter for the youths to deliver to Master Wang Yangming, Liaochen sent them away. He then carried Yunlingzi’s giant-headed doll to a secluded spot, vanished from sight, and took to the air, riding his sword toward the northeast.

Traveling a thousand miles in a blink—that was the hallmark of a master like Liaochen. Departing in the morning, he arrived at Yunhua’s location by midday. Yunhua was in the inn, busy feeding her fox, when she sensed Liaochen’s arrival. Overjoyed, she rushed out to greet him, clutching the fox so tightly that the morsel of meat in its mouth nearly choked it to death. The poor fox, Yunhuzi, nearly met its end, discarded in her haste—a classic case of a disciple forgetting her companion for the sake of her master.

When Liaochen saw the fox, it was rolling its eyes, the piece of mutton lodged firmly in its throat. Only Liaochen’s quick intervention saved the creature. Seeing the fox’s resentful gaze, Yunhua’s face turned crimson.

Liaochen, who had been a bit of a dullard in both his lives, found the scene quite amusing. He comforted the fox while teasing Yunhua until she was so embarrassed she stomped her foot, declaring that if he continued, she would lose her temper as a disciple. Only then did Liaochen desist. Hidden inside the giant-headed doll, Yunlingzi laughed until he nearly tipped over. Yunlingzi understood these matters far better than Liaochen; in his absence, Yunhua and Yunlingzi were like sisters, sharing secrets they dared not voice to anyone else.

Once inside the room, Liaochen examined the treasure Yunhua had obtained. After a careful comparison, his expression grew grave. To see an object that should never again appear in the mortal realm was more than a mere stroke of fortune—it signaled a grave and looming danger.

Yunhua led Liaochen back to where the Ghost Market had been, only to find the area a desolate patch of weeds, devoid of the bustling crowds and shops she remembered. Liaochen was not surprised; the sun was at its zenith, and the Yang energy was too potent for the underworld to manifest. Only in the dead of night, when the transition between Yin and Yang occurred, could such a place appear. They returned to the ruined temple to wait for nightfall.

The temple remained unchanged, the ashes of Yunhua’s previous campfire still present in the absolute solitude. Yunhua opened an umbrella inside the temple, and Liaochen tapped the two wooden puppets she had brought with his index finger. The two child-ghosts—a brother and sister—suddenly materialized beneath the umbrella. Having never ventured out in daylight since their deaths, they were terrified, shielding their eyes and trembling violently. Only after realizing they were not being incinerated by the sun did they lower their hands to see their "big sister" and a man with a peculiar smile.

"I am your big sister’s master," Liaochen said, his tone sincere to put the frightened spirits at ease. "Do not fear; this sun-shielding umbrella will keep you safe. I have summoned you only to ask a few questions. I mean you no harm." The ghosts remained wary, looking to Yunhua. Seeing her gentle nod, the boy spoke softly, "We know you are Taoists who hunt ghosts, but can you truly defeat the Ghost Mother?"

Liaochen did not answer directly. Instead, he produced the items Yunhua had bought at the market. "Do you remember where you found these?"

As the girl began to answer, her brother tugged at her sleeve, and she fell silent, looking at him in confusion. Clearly, the boy was the decisive one, far more mature and calculating than his sister. Liaochen smiled indifferently. "If you two have any conditions, feel free to state them. Whether you seek rebirth in a good family or to be ferried to the eternal world of the East, I can grant it."

"I want to see our mother," the girl whispered, tears welling in her eyes. The boy did not object, standing in silent solidarity. It was their shared wish. Liaochen sighed, and Yunhua hurried to comfort the girl, deeply moved by the sight.

After a long pause, during which he calculated the whereabouts of their kin, Liaochen asked, "If you were to find your mother and discover she has had other children and forgotten you, would you be angry?"