In Huangshan City, Anhui Province, there stood a beauty and wellness center called Shangui Zhai along a bustling street.
The street itself wasn’t particularly prosperous – rather ordinary and down-to-earth. A glance revealed vendors selling pickled vegetables and preserves, shops dealing in nuts and bolts, street-side vendors frying youtiao, and occasional shopkeepers carelessly tossing dirty water onto the street, causing passing pedestrians to jump away while cursing.
However, Shangui Zhai stood out as remarkably upscale, completely at odds with the rest of the street. The establishment was spacious and luxuriously decorated in an elegant classical style. Behind the street-facing glass screen stood a life-sized copper statue depicting an alluring beauty wearing golden ankle rings, draped in gossamer clothing, riding sideways on a fierce leopard with a sweeping tail. The price tag below indicated that this statue was both a display piece and available for purchase.
Priced at 1.8 million yuan, it stood in stark contrast to the “Hair Wash: 15 Yuan” advertisement sign directly across the street, vividly illustrating the vast difference between heaven and earth.
The establishment’s refined atmosphere alone presented an unwelcoming face to casual visitors, and the price tag further deterred people – locals and regular passersby never approached the shop, though they had grown accustomed to its presence like the daily rising sun, privately speculating that it must be some official’s private garden or a wealthy merchant’s money pit, located here only for the sake of discretion.
Even if you happened to be wealthy enough to confidently walk through the door, ready to spend lavishly, you would be stopped at the reception, unable to ascend the intricately carved sandalwood staircase leading to the second floor.
The well-groomed receptionist would smile apologetically and say, “Sorry, we only serve members.”
If you expressed willingness to become a member regardless of cost, they would continue to apologize, explaining that membership was full, though you could join the waiting list if someone withdrew.
And according to them, there were already eighty to a hundred people ahead of you in line.
If you happened to be hot-headed and started shouting about having money to spend or threatening to report it to the commerce bureau, the receptionist would typically appear timid and relent, agreeing to serve you.
Subsequently, you would be led to a first-floor massage room where the massage bed cushions would be filthy, stained with food, perfume, body odor, and cigarette burns – altogether quite soul-destroying before the massage even began.
Then, a stout masseuse with a ruddy nose and smelling of kitchen seasonings would enter, squeezing cheap, unbranded hand cream onto her hands, claiming it was for the massage, and proceed to torture you until you were howling and thrashing, wishing you could fight back.
When you complained loudly about the terrible massage, the masseuse would confidently reply, “This is Shangui Zhai’s special massage technique.”
Then she would present you with a bill, typically no less than four digits. If you questioned the unreasonable price, she would raise her thick eyebrows and shout back, “Look at our high-end decorations – this price is a bargain!”
In summary, unless you were a member, there was essentially no hope of accessing the second floor.
Of course, regulatory and inspection departments were exceptions – Shangui Zhai was a law-abiding business that welcomed all fire safety, security, and health inspections.
However, the second floor wasn’t particularly special.
Besides its dark color scheme and eerie quietness, the corridor was lined with fierce-looking copper beasts that doubled as incense holders: some had mouths designed as incense stick holders, appearing to be smoking when viewed from afar; others had hollow heads serving as incense burners, looking like they were experiencing cultivation gone wrong with white mist rising from their scalps; and some, despite their beast forms, held human-like poses with large pipes trailing incense smoke…
Standing among them, one’s mind would grow hazy after prolonged exposure, creating an unsettling feeling of reality blending with illusion, sending chills down one’s spine.
Along both sides of the corridor, every door led to a massage room, with the largest one at the end. Inside was a red wooden carved bed draped with sheer curtains on three sides, billowing gently in the air conditioning. On the main wall facing the bed hung a large ink painting depicting a graceful, partially concealed woman wearing vine and leaf garments, sitting sideways on a black panther. Two vertical lines of calligraphy flowed alongside, written in an elegant style.
The lines were from Qu Yuan’s “Chu Ci – Nine Songs” section titled “Mountain Spirit”:
“With her captivating glance and becoming smile,
You yearn for me, so graceful and beguiling.”
Meng Qianzi was lying face down on this carved bed, half-engaged in a massage.
“Half-engaged” because her other half was focused on smoking a water pipe, an authentic rarity from the Middle East, its gold-plated, jewel-encrusted body so exquisitely crafted it dazzled both eyes and heart.
She held the pipe stem, listening to the bubbling sounds from the water pipe. The tobacco was mixed with honey and orange, resulting in a fruity aroma rather than tobacco smell.
The masked female masseuse beside her worked with skilled hands and appropriate pressure, and more pleasingly, maintained a focused gaze and complete silence, almost like being invisible.
After smoking for a while, Meng Qianzi half-raised herself to look at Meng Jinsung, who sat in a Huanghuali wood official’s hat chair across from her: “Won’t you try it? Just for fun – it’s not tobacco.”
As she raised herself, her ink-black hair slid over her shoulder, pulling down the half-draped linen shirt, revealing white, rounded shoulders and part of her back. Meng Jinsung quickly turned away, shielding his face with his hand, his tone full of disapproval: “Oh my heavens, my goodness, couldn’t you be more proper?”
Meng Qianzi gave him a sideways glance: “I’m getting a massage in my place, and I need to be proper. You’re thirty, not thirteen, you’ve been married twice – seeing my shoulders should be like looking at braised chicken wings. Why pretend to be shy?”
Meng Jinsung still covered his face: “How can that be the same? You’re the boss, I need to maintain boundaries.”
Meng Qianzi couldn’t be bothered to argue further. She turned to lie on her back, and the masseuse thoughtfully provided a cushion.
She adjusted her clothes and half-raised her leg, which was beautifully shaped, appropriately slender, with a bell-adorned gold anklet that made delicate tinkling sounds.
“Where were we?”
Meng Jinsung had been so preoccupied with maintaining propriety that he’d forgotten they were discussing business before Meng Qianzi decided to try the novel water pipe.
He cleared his throat: “Our brothers in Guangxi…”
“You can turn back now, I’m being proper.”
Meng Jinsung finally turned toward her: “Our brothers in Guangxi recently discovered by chance that the Bawan Mountains have been abandoned.”
Meng Qianzi raised her eyelids slightly: “Bawan Mountains? I seem to remember something about that…”
Knowing she typically disliked remembering details, which was why she needed him as her chief secretary to remind her constantly, Meng Jinsung explained: “It’s marked in the Mountain Registry as our no-exploration mountain, belonging to the Sheng family.”
Meng Qianzi remembered now: “Right, surname Sheng, that was several generations ago, wasn’t it? They claimed the mountain, and we agreed not to explore it. How did it become abandoned? Could they not survive there anymore? Did they all go to the cities for work?”
Meng Jinsung couldn’t help but smile wryly, though he had to contain it: “Unknown. Our brothers discovered it by chance, and when they inquired, they heard it had been abandoned for four or five years already, empty. So I was thinking, perhaps we could explore it now…”
“Explore it? Why not? Go ahead and explore.”
Good – Meng Jinsung marked a “√” next to that item in his work notebook. Having the leader’s directive would make things easier.
Just as he was about to move to the next item, there was suddenly a knock at the door.
Meng Qianzi’s face darkened, and she shouted: “What’s with the knocking? Don’t you know I need quiet during my massage?”
The knocking stopped but resumed barely three seconds later.
It must be something important, or they wouldn’t continue after being shouted at. Meng Qianzi gave Meng Jinsung a look: “Go see what it is.”
Meng Jinsung was gone for quite a while, long enough for Meng Qianzi to become puzzled.
Usually, a few whispered words would suffice – why such a long discussion?
She lost interest in the massage and tossed aside the water pipe mouthpiece.
After a while, Meng Jinsung returned, first waving to the masseuse: “Please step out for a moment.”
Oh, so there was something serious. Meng Qianzi felt her heart skip a beat.
Meng Jinsung watched the masseuse leave and closed the door: “Representatives from the Three Water Ghost Families have arrived.”
Meng Qianzi made a surprised sound and sat up, adjusting her collar to prevent Meng Jinsung from commenting on her impropriety again: “The Three Water Ghost Families? Mountains and waters don’t meet – we haven’t had contact with them for many years.”
Meng Jinsung nodded: “That’s true, but isn’t it also said that mountains and waters do meet in times of urgency?”
Meng Qianzi’s slender fingers played with the ties of her loose robe: “Who came?”
Meng Jinsung had clearly done his research outside and answered quickly: “All Water Ghosts – the most senior one, Jiang Taiyue, and someone called Ding Yudie, said to be the successor.”
Meng Qianzi’s hands paused: “That’s quite a delegation. Do you know why they’ve come?”
Meng Jinsung shook his head: “Not sure. We haven’t been in contact for many years, but I’ve heard vaguely that in the past year or two, the Three Families have had quite a few funerals.”
He emphasized the words “quite a few.”
Understanding the implied meaning, Meng Qianzi nodded and stood up with a smile, making an elegant knot with her fingers at her waist: “Then we should meet them. It seems they must be in trouble, otherwise, why would they seek help from us Mountain Ghosts?”
She walked toward the door, then stepped back to slip a gold jade bracelet with old South Red beads on its chain onto her wrist.
She said: “I’ll wear more precious jewelry to show how much I value this meeting.”
Meng Jinsung glanced at her wrinkled linen clothes and slippers, and wanted to say something, but held back.
In the reception room, Jiang Taiyue sat on the sofa, both hands resting on a cane, eyes closed and silent.
Ding Yudie twirled the crystal guest cup in her hand: “Grandmother Jiang, you’ve never mentioned any Mountain Ghosts before.”
Jiang Taiyue didn’t open her eyes: “Deep in the forests are thousands of households, but Mountain Ghosts number only four or five families. One above ground, one below water – mountains and waters don’t meet, so there’s little contact, and the relationship is… superficial at best.”
Some say Mountain Ghosts look down on Water Ghosts, others say Water Ghosts despise Mountain Ghosts.
Ding Yudie made a sound of acknowledgment: “We’re called Water Grapes, what are they called?”
“Pangolins.”
This Grandmother Jiang was truly sparing with words, neither moving nor speaking unless asked.
Ding Yudie looked around at the surroundings: “Mountain Ghosts… don’t seem poor either.”
Jiang Taiyue almost laughed in exasperation: “How could you possibly think to use the word ‘poor’ to describe them? Let me ask you, what’s in the mountains?”
“…Wolves?”
Jiang Taiyue spoke irritably: “No wonder Sasa always says you have a moth brain. There are mines in the mountains, understand?”
Damn, mines! Like coal barons – truly dirt-rich!
“So do these Mountain Ghosts also have an Executive Council, Central Committee, and such?”
Jiang Taiyue opened her eyes, and paused for a moment before shaking her head: “They’re different from us, and I can’t explain it clearly. In theory, water is yin and mountains are yang, but only women can be Mountain Ghosts, and among them, there must be one with the strongest ability.”
“In ancient times, those who claimed mountains would choose a mountain king, so the highest seat among Mountain Ghosts is called the Mountain Ghost King’s Throne.”
“I heard that a new person took power two years ago. The one currently sitting on the Mountain Ghost King’s Throne is called Meng Qianzi.”
(End of Text)