A ghost!

The piercing shriek filled the mourning hall, which had only just fallen quiet, with people once again.

Upon hearing the news of a ghost haunting the mourning hall, Lang Zhengping’s face darkened to the color of the bottom of a pot. When he arrived at the mourning hall and saw the sixth son of the third branch’s family shrieking like a madman about ghosts, the veins at his temples bulged prominently.

There was also his eldest son and his concubine-born son — apart from a patch of red swelling on their foreheads, both had ashen faces, their eyes vacant and blank, as though they had been frightened out of their wits by something.

The family members who had come upon hearing the commotion were all chattering noisily, asking what had happened and why they were in such a sorry state.

The mourning hall, which ought to have been solemn and dignified, had been turned into something as raucous and chaotic as a bustling marketplace — and all of this with the coffin of the deceased still right before them.

Simply outrageous.

“Enough of this nonsense!” Lang Zhengping, his anger reaching its peak, bellowed: “This is a mourning hall — how dare you create such a commotion here!”

He put the full force of his breath and fury into that shout, and the clamor instantly fell into a respectful hush.

Lang Jiuchuan knelt before the coffin, pulled the spirit-money basin toward her, picked up the yellow paper from the ground, and tossed it in.

The yellow paper ignited without fire.

The notorious little tyrant of the Lang family’s first branch, the twelfth son, glanced over without thinking and was so startled his eyes nearly popped out of his head. He rubbed his eyes hard — the lamplight was too dim; surely he was seeing things.

Otherwise, with no flame present, how had that yellow paper caught fire?

Wait — what had Sixth Brother just said? A ghost?

Could this be ghost fire?

Lang the Twelfth let out a yelp and bolted out of the mourning hall, and it was as though a stone had been thrown into a lake that had only just calmed — Lang Caize snapped back to his senses and cried out in terror: “Great Uncle, there really is a ghost! He grabbed my face and kissed me. Sob sob — if you don’t believe me, ask Big Brother. We couldn’t even get out just now.”

Lang Caimeng, having been called out by name and then viciously pinched on the soft flesh of his inner arm by his wife, hissed sharply in pain — but it cleared his head completely.

“Absurd. If you’re tired, go rest. Third Brother, take him away.” Lang Zhengping bellowed again, shooting a glare at third brother Lang Zhengwen — can’t you see what nonsense your son is spouting?

Lang Zhengwen’s own face had gone green. A gentleman does not speak of the strange and supernatural, and yet this wretched child was claiming a ghost had kissed him — what on earth? Had he gone mad from wanting to be a bridegroom? Even if he wanted that, he’d have to suppress it — wait until the mourning period was over before discussing marriage matters!

Lang Zhengwen called for a manservant to drag his son away, but Lang Caize struggled as though he had been possessed, crying out: “I’m not making it up! Big Brother and Fourth Brother both know — oh, and that wretched girl, Lang Jiu!”

Lang Jiu?

Everyone paused.

Who? Oh right — that ninth young miss who had only just returned home and already stirred up something big.

Catching the smell of burning paper, everyone looked over, and there was that girl who barely seemed to exist — dressed in white mourning clothes, kneeling beside the coffin, burning yellow paper one sheet at a time. Her eyes were closed, her expression… blissful? Or rather — devout?

Lang Jiuchuan was absorbing the faint wisps of merit energy when she sensed gazes landing on her, and her eyes snapped open.

Firelight played across her cold, pale face in flickering light and shadow, and reflected in those large eyes that seemed just a touch too vacant — and every person there, without exception, felt a silent jolt in their hearts.

She looks just like a ghost to me!

Cui Shi, leaning on the arm of her Nanny, looked toward Lang Jiuchuan, her brow furrowing.

Lang Zhengping was also getting a headache. That niece of his seemed to be everywhere — she had barely been home for less than a day, and the mourning hall had already been disrupted twice because of her. He wanted to reprimand her, but one glance at Cui Shi made him swallow the urge.

Lang Caicheng swallowed and said: “The door really couldn’t be opened just now — it was as if someone had locked it.”

“Then how did it open again?”

Lang Caicheng looked toward Lang Jiuchuan and said nothing.

“Ninth Sister kicked it open?” Lang Caimeng also looked toward Lang Jiuchuan.

A sudden flash of clarity struck Lang Caize, and he pointed at Lang Jiuchuan, glaring: “Could it be that you were the one pulling tricks? Were you deliberately putting on a ghost act to scare us?”

Crying wolf first, are we?

Lang Jiuchuan narrowed her eyes. This was practically forcing her hand — she was just about to speak when Lang Caimeng said: “Sixth Brother, mind your words. When it happened, only the three of us brothers were there. Ninth Sister arrived afterward.”

“But the moment she arrived, the door could open.” Lang Caize still felt she was the most suspicious.

Beside him, Lang Cailing seized the opportunity to add from behind Lang Caize: “What was she doing coming at this hour anyway?”

“Coming to keep vigil and fulfill my filial duties — is that not allowed?” Lang Jiuchuan grabbed a fistful of spirit money and hurled it into the brazier, sending ash flying in all directions. The smoke billowed out, making a few people cough and choke involuntarily.

She stood up, fixed her gaze on Lang Caize, and said: “Had I known you’d be so ungrateful, I would have left that female ghost to cling to you. If it weren’t for my kick, you’d have been dragged off by a ghost to be a groom by now. Though that’s not quite right either — to be a ghost bridegroom, things must be done properly. You and that ghost had neither betrothal gifts exchanged nor a marriage agreement in place — you’re not rightfully bound. You wouldn’t even qualify as a proper groom. At best, you’d be a kept man.”

Everyone stared wide-eyed: “?”

What sort of outlandish and alarming words were these? They couldn’t make heads or tails of it.

Lang Caize was so furious he was jumping up and down, shaking a finger at her: “You — you, you, you…”

Not even a proper groom, but a kept man — this was too humiliating!

How could her mouth be so vicious.

Lang Jiuchuan said: “Before you go crying wolf, you might want to think about what indecent thing you yourself did. Getting entangled by a ghost — isn’t that something you brought on yourself?”

Lang Caize: “!”

What had he done. What had he done.

Lang Jiuchuan walked to the row of paper-crafted spirit maidens and said: “Just tell me — did you or did you not solicit her?”

Everyone followed the direction of her pointing finger toward that one lifelike paper-crafted spirit maiden, and for reasons they could not explain, a creeping chill ran through them all. Those eyes in particular — they seemed to be staring right at the onlookers, deeply unsettling.

“In the middle of the night, who are you trying to frighten!” Lang Cailing shot back, her face white.

Lang Caize had already gone rigid. Forcing himself to appear calm, he said: “It’s a paper-crafted offering — how could I have solicited her?”

“If you hadn’t complimented her looks, why would she have kissed you?” Lang Jiuchuan gave a cold laugh. “You flirted with the ghost first — you set the hook yourself. She simply gave you what you wished for.”

Lang Caimeng and Lang Caicheng were both stunned. How did she know?

Naturally, it was because the female ghost, before fleeing, had been terrified of inviting retribution and had blurted the whole story out herself. As it happened, the ghost had been a flirtatious sort in life — and in death, she was a flirtatious ghost.

Lang Caize felt a chill run through his entire body. He wanted to say something, but his throat felt as though something was lodged in it.

“Utter nonsense.” Lang Zhengping saw that everyone in the family had gone as quiet as chickens, seemingly cowed, and regardless of Cui Shi, he turned his glare on Lang Jiuchuan: “Were you not told to attend to your grandmother? What are you doing here? Someone come — escort the Ninth Young Miss and the Sixth Young Master out.”

Lang Jiuchuan said: “It was you who brought me back to be a dutiful grandchild in mourning — so no one gets to stop me from paying my respects to our Elder.”

Better to stay near the coffin — it’s good for the body. While the burial hasn’t happened yet, best absorb as much merit energy as possible.

She tapped that paper-crafted spirit maiden: “Also — what happened tonight was no accident. If I were you, I would look into where this spirit maiden came from. When a paper figure has its spirit summoned, any wandering ghost may enter it.”

She cast a glance at the spirit maiden’s feet and raised an eyebrow. No wonder so many small ghosts have come here — there is even a yin object here luring them.

Everyone present felt their heads buzzing — what was she saying? Why couldn’t any of them understand it?

They couldn’t understand it, but that didn’t stop them from seeing clearly what she was doing — Cui Shi’s expression changed drastically, and she cried out sharply: “Wicked child — what do you think you’re doing! Stop this at once!”

This lunatic — she actually intends to smash the offerings!