34: An Old Head Replaced by a New One

After disembarking from the carriage, Yi Fan and his companion led the Resentful Ghost to a secluded spot. Zhuge Liuyun produced a paper crane, formed a spell with his fingers, and gave it a gentle shake. The crane fluttered, then stood upright, ruffled its wings, and took flight.

“That Zhu fellow hasn’t gone far. Just follow the spirit crane and you’ll find him,” Zhuge Liuyun said, then hastened after it.

Yi Fan marveled at the crane’s magic—it could seek people and pinpoint locations, flying with the agility and grace of a living creature. The crane soared high, not fast, but difficult to spot. Yi Fan and his companion followed lightly, weaving through the crowd.

After traveling more than ten miles, they arrived in a residential quarter. The crane circled twice in front of a manor gate, then landed, and Zhuge Liuyun caught it, tucking it away.

The manor was modest, with no servants at the door and the gates tightly shut. Seeing passersby, the two hesitated to scale the walls and decided to return at night to investigate.

They moved to the main street, found a tavern, ordered food, and waited for Yuan Hui and the couple to arrive. Evening came, but their companions did not. Instead, the tavern’s manager grew impatient, sending the waiter to hurry them—they had occupied the table all afternoon for only one meal, hardly profitable.

Yi Fan paid no mind to the waiter’s attitude, tossed a bit of silver, and left the tavern with Zhuge Liuyun. Night had fallen, oil lamps flickered in a few shops, but the streets were dim and nearly deserted.

“Since Master Yuan Hui and the Daoist couple haven’t come, something must have detained them. Let’s go in and see what’s going on,” Yi Fan mused.

Now that they had found the place, it was only right to investigate—it might yield vital clues.

Zhuge Liuyun agreed, and the two slipped quietly to the Zhu family’s courtyard wall. Seeing no one nearby, they had the Resentful Ghost keep watch outside, then vaulted the wall and landed within.

The courtyard was small, with rooms close by. They hid in the shadows, cautiously observing. There were no dogs, so they relaxed. Yi Fan pointed ahead, then moved lightly along the wall.

Darkness enveloped them, silent and still, with no servants in sight. Venturing further, they saw light ahead and stopped, lifting their eyes to a hall where two people were dining—one was Zhu Erdan.

The other was a woman, her back to them, presumably Zhu Erdan’s wife. What puzzled them was the absence of serving maids, which was highly unusual.

As a scholar, Zhu Erdan was entitled to be called “master.” Even before a magistrate, he need not kneel. His kin would benefit from his status, receiving land and exemption from taxes. With tenant farmers flocking to him, his estate would flourish in no time, and poor families would offer their daughters as maids or servants.

Yet, Zhu Erdan’s household had neither maids nor even a cook, only two figures visible, not even a dog.

There was something strange here, Yi Fan concluded.

After a while, Zhu Erdan and his wife finished their meal and stepped out into the courtyard with tea, indulging in poetry and self-amusement. The woman tidied the bowls and went to boil water; her face remained hidden in the darkness.

Nearly half an hour passed before Zhu Erdan entered a side room. The woman brought in water for washing his feet and attended him. A little later, the door closed, and soon the sounds of intimacy emerged—they were making love.

Yi Fan and Zhuge Liuyun exchanged awkward looks, never expecting to find themselves eavesdropping on such a scene; if word got out, it would be mortifying.

Fortunately, it didn’t last long. The lights within extinguished—they must have gone to sleep.

Just as Yi Fan and Zhuge Liuyun thought the night had yielded nothing, the door suddenly opened. Zhu Erdan, clad in nightclothes and holding an oil lamp, walked to another nearby room.

The two hurried over, keeping hidden, and peered through the window. The room was small, dominated by a large statue with a green face and red beard, fierce and grim.

The Judge Lu statue?

Yi Fan’s heart raced—so Zhu Erdan truly had deep ties to Judge Lu, even worshipping such a massive idol at home. Unbelievable.

Voices sounded within. Zhu Erdan, holding a wine jug, poured two cups, drank one himself, and said, “Brother Lu, I don’t know if you’re here. If you are, please show yourself. I have important matters to discuss.”

The statue remained motionless. Disappointed, Zhu Erdan shook his head, refilled his cup, and drank alone.

Suddenly, the door opened and a woman entered, carrying an outer garment. She gently draped it over Zhu Erdan’s shoulders and stood silently at his side.

“My dear, why are you up? The night is cold—don’t catch a chill.”

Zhu Erdan rose at once, seeing the woman lightly dressed. He hurriedly removed his own outer garment and wrapped it around her.

She shook her head softly and said tenderly, “Husband, are you drinking with Lord Lu again?”

“Yes. I attended the poetry gathering today, but encountered troubling matters. I wanted to consult Brother Lu, but he isn’t here,” Zhu Erdan sighed, his heart full of worry.

Seeing his distress, the woman said, “Husband, if something troubles you, tell me. Perhaps I can offer advice.”

Zhu Erdan hesitated, then embraced her. “Today’s poetry gathering should have been a joyous event, but I met two Daoists. One claimed that Brother Lu was an evil god who harms the living. Such absurdity—it made me furious.”

He glanced at the Judge Lu statue, still unmoving, and his disappointment deepened.

The woman was silent for a moment, then said, “Husband, there’s something I’ve wondered about for some time. Please help me understand.”

“Oh?” Zhu Erdan asked, puzzled. “What is it that troubles you?”

“Recently, the woman who brings vegetables told me about happenings in Hangzhou. Two months ago, Miss Deng died mysteriously, her head vanished. The affair caused a stir, and the authorities searched everywhere for the culprit.” She looked up. “Is this head that Lord Lu gave me really Miss Deng’s?”

Outside, Yi Fan and Zhuge Liuyun were aghast. Looking closely, they saw the woman’s face was as lovely as a flower—charming and beautiful. Yet her expression was somewhat stiff, as if it did not belong to her.

So this was Miss Deng’s head? The two were incredulous.

Unaware that anyone was watching, Zhu Erdan’s face changed. “You’re overthinking it, my dear. Brother Lu told me he found this head at a household where the daughter had just died, and took it for your use. It isn’t Miss Deng’s. Besides, Brother Lu is a righteous deity of the underworld—he wouldn’t harm anyone.”

The woman fell silent, nestling into Zhu Erdan’s arms and weeping softly. Zhu Erdan was at a loss, struggling to comfort her until she finally smiled. He deliberately changed the subject: “Tonight, I shall display my divine prowess—three rounds of plum blossoms. You’ll see what it means to be a true man.”

With that, he swept her up and strode back to the bedroom.