After breakfast, Bao Zhu still remembered the arrows she had shot into the courtyard. Taking advantage of the bright daylight, she searched through the wild grass for a while and only found two that had missed their target. The third was nowhere to be found, leaving only a small puddle of blood on the ground.

Wei Xun said: “Your archery accuracy is quite good, but your strength is lacking. If you don’t hit vital points, it’s just a flesh wound.”

Hearing him point directly to the crux of the matter, Bao Zhu felt somewhat dejected: “In the past, I could easily kill yellow sheep and wild boars at fifty paces. After suffering this calamity, my strength has indeed weakened considerably.” She pondered for a moment and said gravely: “If it were truly a ghost, it wouldn’t bleed.”

Wei Xun nodded: “Last night someone was playing tricks with supernatural pretense. The skulls placed on the spirit wall and the skeleton corpse collapsed at the window were all meant to frighten people.”

Bao Zhu said angrily: “It nearly scared my soul away.”

By now the sky was fully bright, and Shisan Lang had returned. She felt the yang energy had overcome the yin energy, her courage slightly restored, and wanted to explore the haunted mansion again.

Looking at those skulls again under sunlight, the bone was yellowed and cracked – unknown remains likely scavenged from some mass grave. They were deliberately placed at turning points or on walls and such places to make people’s imaginations run wild. Of course, the skulls couldn’t have jumped up there by themselves.

The blood-stained clothes on the skeleton looked even more striking in sunlight, but thinking carefully, if they were old bloodstains, they should have turned dark brown long ago, not this bright red appearance.

“This actually… isn’t blood, is it?”

Wei Xun looked and said: “It’s dyed with madder root.”

Recalling the terrifying moments of last night, Bao Zhu’s mind echoed with the scene of blood-like red under the dim candlelight. She remained silent for a long time. She remembered that night when she was seriously ill and vomiting blood – that fresh blood was as bright red as this madder root.

A question gradually surfaced: Was that really blood?

She couldn’t sleep deeply when there was light, and everyone who served her knew this. Therefore, even for afternoon naps, the maids would close all the window curtains in the hall, and when lighting lamps, they dared not use particularly bright palace lanterns. Under the dim candlelight, she spat the bright red, sweet-smelling liquid into a silver spittoon. The maid immediately cried out in alarm and quickly called for someone to fetch the imperial physician.

Had that spittoon changed color? Due to severe abdominal pain, she lay down immediately after vomiting and didn’t see. Wei Xun had said he tested for poison in her mouth but found no signs of poisoning. Perhaps it was just the color of the pomegranate juice she had drunk before sleep? Just like this “blood-stained clothing” dyed with madder root – startling at first glance, but actually something else entirely.

Such a tiny misunderstanding could be discovered by simply lighting palace lanterns for careful examination. Even if the maids were ignorant, the imperial physicians couldn’t have made such a mistake. How could she possibly have died from “poisoning and vomiting blood”?

A vague, gnawing pain slowly rose from her abdomen, gradually spreading to her chest. Bao Zhu dared not think further. She had fled from Chang’an like covering her ears to steal a bell, not because she was helpless, but because she was too afraid of the truth – more afraid than of ghosts.

Bao Zhu forced herself to gather her spirits and return to reality, saying: “It seems the person playing tricks isn’t very clever and was quite careless. I wonder if they actually found Master Fang’s treasure.”

Wei Xun said: “Apparently not, otherwise they wouldn’t have dug three feet deep everywhere.”

Looking at the Fang family mansion’s courtyard again in daylight, the ghostly atmosphere was gone, leaving only mottled wild grass. Though the soil from digging and searching had been deliberately concealed, the traces of disturbed earth layers were as obvious as lice on a bald head to an expert like Wei Xun. He immediately pointed them out to her one by one. It was common for wealthy families to bury money and valuables in their residences, especially since Master Fang had boasted during his lifetime about having treasures at home, making it even easier to attract covetous attention.

The bones used to frighten people in the mansion might have been dragged from abandoned graves by the thief, or possibly people he had killed. Bent over and collapsed in half at the window, they seemed pitiful. The two brothers dug a pit in the courtyard and buried them along with the skulls.

Bao Zhu frowned: “The strangest thing is that storehouse deep in the mansion. Who knows who locked it up? If they coveted the treasure, why didn’t they go in to search? The lock is covered with dust. Why don’t we go in and take a look while it’s daylight?”

Wei Xun was slightly stunned and put away his smile: “There really are ghosts in that room. You’d better not go.”

Hearing this, not only Bao Zhu but even Shisan Lang felt surprised. This senior brother of his was naturally rebellious, not only disbelieving in ghosts and spirits but also particularly interested when hearing such things, insisting on experiencing them personally to satisfy his curiosity. Such conservatism now was highly unusual.

Though Bao Zhu feared ghosts, with the bright sun overhead now, she didn’t believe any malevolent spirit would dare appear in daylight. Her domineering nature surfaced, and she insisted he must open that locked storehouse for her to see.

Driven by her urgent demands, Wei Xun sighed softly, drew his dagger, and flicked the lock with the knife tip, cutting it off.

The three broke through the door and entered. Bao Zhu saw the storehouse was piled with miscellaneous items, moldy and rotting. Forget treasures – there wasn’t even a single usable household item. However, looking up, she saw dozens of hemp ropes and torn cloth strips hanging from six horizontal and vertical beams, swaying back and forth in the wind, emanating an aura of death.

She cried “Ah!” and suddenly understood – these were all ropes used for hanging and suicide. Though the bones had long since disappeared, she could still imagine the tragic scene of dozens of people hanging themselves together, bodies swaying in the wind. For a moment she was horrified, her whole body cold, stepping backward out the door step by step. Wei Xun closed the door panels.

Bao Zhu sat on the steps for a while before recovering. Seeing Wei Xun’s face wearing a sympathetic expression that said “I told you not to go in,” she asked: “You knew what was inside beforehand?”

Wei Xun replied: “I glanced briefly, didn’t see clearly, but could roughly guess.”

She murmured distractedly: “How… how could so many people hang themselves together…”

“Naturally they encountered circumstances where no one could survive. Probably something from when rebel troops passed through back then. If it were famine, leaving only human bones scattered on the ground would be even more tragic and horrifying.”

“When descendants collected the bodies, why didn’t they also take away those hanging ropes?”

“Leaving corpses to rot would cause plague, and the stench would be too great – they had to be cleaned up. As for those hanging ropes… people all say the souls of those who die by hanging remain on those ropes, which is extremely unlucky. Since nothing valuable was left inside, they simply locked the main door and pretended this storehouse didn’t exist.”

She had never expected that the most terrifying part of this haunted mansion had nothing to do with ghosts, but rather was a human tragedy that had occurred.

After closing the storehouse door, Shisan Lang stood at the entrance and recited several scriptures for salvation, asking these hanging ghosts to quickly reincarnate. These wrongfully dead spirits had been powerless to resist their fate in life, and after death were probably still pathetic, unable even to stop thieves from digging randomly in their own family mansion.

By now the truth was emerging clearly. Someone wanted to find the treasure hidden by Master Fang’s family, using the real tragedies that had occurred in the mansion to spread rumors and play supernatural tricks, preventing anyone else from moving in to live there. The traveling merchant who had previously passed by and lodged here had probably been literally scared to death by this trickster.

Returning to the main hall, Bao Zhu found that puddle of blood in the courtyard. Pushing aside wild grass, she searched around for a while until she reached a collapsed section by the wall. Bloodstains and scrape marks remained at the wall’s base – the person had obviously escaped by climbing over the wall at this point.

Standing at this broken wall and looking outward for a while, Bao Zhu was quite hesitant. Under normal circumstances, she need only inform the local authorities, but now she didn’t even have proper identification. What right did she have to report a case? Must she leave in silence after suffering such a fright?

While she hesitated, Wei Xun and his brother had already packed up the donkey and travel luggage. Bao Zhu couldn’t help complaining reproachfully: “When that person escaped last night, you should have followed. At least give him a beating for satisfaction.”

Wei Xun didn’t argue, only saying: “It’s my fault.” Then he said to Shisan Lang: “You two go ahead to Xinfeng County town and wait. I’ll go and return shortly.”

Bao Zhu felt something was wrong: “Where are you going? What for?”

Wei Xun said casually: “To handle a small matter.”

Bao Zhu stared at him blankly: “The person has already run away, the tea has gone cold. You’re not thinking of chasing after them now, are you?”

Wei Xun smiled: “To make amends for past mistakes. Besides, I can’t let him go.”

Saying this, he took out something wrapped in torn cloth and handed it to Bao Zhu. When she unwrapped it, it was actually a sharp knife polished to a brilliant shine.

“That person dropped this outside the wall when escaping last night.”

This weapon had a blade one foot long, two inches wide at the base, with a very sharp point, but the handle was quite roughly made, wrapped with dirty, torn cloth strips to prevent slipping. Carrying a knife and trespassing in a private residence was completely different in nature from “haunted mansion ghostly disturbances.”

“If I had a hundred guards pursuing a deer that didn’t die from arrow wounds, I could guarantee finding it. Where are you going to find one wounded person?”

Wei Xun replied: “Wounded deer have no name or surname, but people have homes to return to. If you know who it is, it won’t take much effort. Smell this knife.”

Bao Zhu frowned. Though extremely disgusted, curiosity ultimately overcame her reluctance, and she sniffed lightly. A heavy fishy stench rushed into her nostrils. This was a fish-gutting knife.

She exclaimed “Ah!”

Author’s Note: The incident of dozens or hundreds of hanging ropes suspended from rafters in one room comes from “Yijian Branch Records” and occurred during the Chunxi years of the Southern Song Dynasty.