After leaving Taiji Palace, Fang Jie didn't take the carriage back through the city. Instead, he walked slowly through the snow-covered streets. Before leaving the palace, the snow had only covered the ground with a thin layer of white, but after turning two streets, the snow was already as thick as the soles of boots. The remnants of the previous snowfall hadn't melted yet, and this snowfall followed closely behind. It was as if the heavens felt Chang'an wasn't beautiful enough, so they went all out to decorate it in winter.
Feeling the snow getting thicker and thicker under his feet, if one paid close attention, there was a strange, almost tedious, feeling. Fang Jie appeared relaxed, but in reality, his mind was heavy, so much so that his steps were somewhat heavy. He walked with his head slightly lowered, watching his feet leave imprints on the smooth, clean snow. Each step was so clear.
The emperor's words kept echoing in his ears. The emperor, who had personally elevated him, seemed to have a playful streak, throwing him into a cage and then releasing him, only to kick Fang Jie into a game Fang Jie couldn't possibly afford to play in. The emperor seemed to revel in this, while Fang Jie was determined to fight to the death.
If Chang'an City was a vast lake, then the imperial court was its deepest point. Few could easily navigate its surface. Fang Jie now only had a reed beneath his feet; crossing the lake… how easy could it be?
The streets were nearly deserted, and the carriages passing through the city were almost empty. When a carriage passed Fang Jie, the driver enthusiastically invited him to get in. Perhaps not noticing Fang Jie's martial arts academy uniform, he called out, "Young man, will you take a ride? Eight copper coins to your doorstep."
Fang Jie earnestly asked, "Isn't it five copper coins?"
The driver hesitated, "It's snowing heavily; adding three more copper coins wouldn't be unreasonable."
Fang Jie asked, "Eight copper coins no matter where you're taken?" The coachman said, "If you're only going for one li, would I have the nerve to charge you eight copper coins? Within ten li, it's still five copper coins. Beyond ten li, it's three more. Is that fair?"
Fang Jie said, "It is indeed fair, but I won't take the ride."
The coachman was almost furious. He thought, "Why are you arguing with me for so long if you're not going to take the ride?" He gave Fang Jie a look of utter contempt, then spurred his horse and drove off. Fang Jie smiled foolishly, as if he had gotten a great deal.
The sky grew increasingly gloomy, the clouds hanging so low it seemed one could reach out and pluck a handful of freshly fallen snowflakes. Fang Jie suddenly regretted not taking the carriage. Walking back to the shop would take at least an hour. He'd have to wash his own clothes, even though he had a woman… Shen Qingshan wasn't the type to wash clothes in a wooden basin.
So he decided to take a shortcut.
Turning into another street, Fang Jie glanced at the sign at the street entrance.
East 18th Street.
Fang Jie calculated the distance; it was still quite a distance to East 23rd Street, where his shop was located. The street was deserted, exceptionally quiet and peaceful. The layout of the various wards and markets in Chang'an was almost identical, with straight streets dividing them like tofu blocks. If one could look down from above, one would be astonished by the orderly construction of this magnificent city.
The sound of his footsteps on the snow was clear as Fang Jie walked, observing the shops on both sides of the street. After walking about a hundred meters into East 18th Street, he discovered a dilapidated cluster of houses in what should have been a bustling area. Judging by their ruined state, they hadn't been visited for at least several decades. Chang'an, though vast, was incredibly valuable land; how could merchants ignore such a prime location?
So he couldn't help but stop and examine the houses closely.
Several sections of the walls had collapsed, but the doorway was still relatively intact. The iron lock, rusted beyond recognition, was almost fused with the chain. Fang Jie peered through a gap in the wall and found the courtyard completely covered in withered grass. He couldn't clearly see the house inside, but the exposed, dark, dilapidated windows were like the gates of hell, sending chills down his spine.
Fang Jie was puzzled. Why was this place abandoned?
He stood in front of the courtyard for a while, feeling that something was amiss. So instead of rushing home, he went to a teahouse across the street not far from the house. The teahouse wasn't doing very well, and its proximity to that desolate place had only exacerbated the owner's predicament. Seeing a customer enter on such a snowy day, the owner immediately came out to greet him.
When he saw Fang Jie wearing the uniform of the Martial Arts Academy, he became even more excited. Students at the Martial Arts Academy were allowed three days off each month, and during these three days, they didn't have to return to the academy to stay overnight. When Fang Jie was released from prison, it happened to be the martial arts academy's day off.
"Please come in, young master."
The old soldier brushed the snow off Fang Jie with a duster, his warm hospitality making him feel pleasant. Fang Jie thanked him and then chose a seat by the window.
"What would you like to drink, young master?"
The innkeeper asked.
Fang Jie wasn't knowledgeable about tea ceremony, so he casually pointed to a moderately priced tea from the menu, neither ostentatious nor understated. The innkeeper first had four kinds of dried fruit and snacks brought over, then personally brewed tea for Fang Jie.
"Innkeeper, that house over there has been abandoned for many years, hasn't it?"
Fang Jie asked.
He was curious because he wanted to know why such sought-after and valuable land was being ignored.
"You mean that place? Well… don't even mention it, that place is extremely unlucky!"
The innkeeper sighed, seemingly full of complaints.
He waved away a stray cat that appeared at the door, his eyes filled with disgust. The stray cat glanced back, then walked to the base of a wall and lay down, looking rather pitiful in the heavy snow.
...
...
The mention of the house across the street brought up the teahouse owner, who then launched into a long conversation. He sat down opposite Fang Jie, carrying his purple clay teapot, and ordered two more kinds of dried fruit. With only Fang Jie as his customer in this weather, the owner was perhaps too bored, so once he started talking, he couldn't stop.
"It's said that a long, long time ago, a high-ranking official lived in this house. I remember my father or grandfather mentioning it… Even if this place hasn't been dilapidated for a hundred years, it's been seventy or eighty. It's said that the official was stripped of his title and his entire family was banished from Chang'an. Before leaving, he sold this house to a wealthy merchant at a low price. This place was once prosperous; even the most bustling East Twenty-Third Street can't compare to its former glory."
The shopkeeper took a sip of tea to clear his throat and continued, "Because this was one of the most prosperous areas in Chang'an at the time, the wealthy merchant was naturally delighted to buy the house at such a low price. He tidied it up a bit and moved in with his family. Strangely enough, perhaps his status couldn't suppress the house's energy, because his family members died one after another from illness. Later, they were even poisoned by business rivals."
"A family of dozens, not a single one left."
"Oh?"
Fang Jie couldn't help but ask, "So brazen, one would think that…" "The murderer didn't get away with it either."
"Of course. It's said the emperor himself decreed that all those responsible be executed. Dozens of people from the wealthy family who poisoned him were also killed, and the rest were exiled as slaves."
The shopkeeper sighed, "Later, the house was bought again, and then one misfortune after another occurred. Servants either drowned in wells or died of illness. This place became increasingly eerie. Later, I heard that the dismissed official, unable to contain his grief and anger, poisoned himself as soon as he left Chang'an." He abandoned his family and returned alone to Chang'an, where he hanged himself in a side room of the house. His body wasn't discovered until much later. Everyone said the resentment was too strong, the ghostly aura too intense; anyone who came near would suffer misfortune."
"So the house fell into disrepair. Because of this dilapidated house, the entire East 18th Street declined, and hardly anyone came here anymore. It was precisely because of this decline that East 23rd Street prospered."
Fang Jie nodded, unable to resist glancing at the house again. He didn't believe in ghosts or monsters. If the series of misfortunes at the house wasn't a coincidence, then someone had deliberately caused it. But why no one took over the house later was unknown. As for all the ghost stories, most were just rumors.
"Who holds the land deed for this house?"
Fang Jie asked. "I don't know."
The shopkeeper shook his head. "It's most likely inside the Chang'an Prefecture government office."
Fang Jie hummed in agreement, finished his tea, and looked at the house again. "If we buy this land and rebuild a courtyard, there shouldn't be any problems. After all, so many years have passed. Even if there are ghosts, they've long since vanished."
"That's not necessarily true!"
The shopkeeper said, "Mischievous children often climb in to play hide-and-seek. This morning, several children went in but soon ran out crying in terror." "They say there's an evil spirit inside. I asked around, and they said a stray dog that used to live there died, its head bitten off, and nobody knows what killed it. But to kill a stray dog silently, and there shouldn't be any wild animals here, what else could it be but an evil spirit?"
To prove his point, the innkeeper pointed to a stray cat huddled against the wall, shivering from the cold. "Look," he said, "even that stray cat is afraid to come inside to avoid the snow."
Fang Jie followed the innkeeper's finger and frowned slightly.
Indeed, the stray cat preferred to huddle in the corner, braving the wind and snow, rather than enter that dilapidated house—that didn't make sense.
Perhaps there really was something strange about that house.
Fang Jie smiled, dismissing the idea of exploring the dilapidated courtyard. He had only been curious; he'd spent the price of a pot of tea and heard an interesting story, and the afternoon had passed just like that. Fang Jie got up, paid for his tea, and left the teahouse. He hadn't walked far when the teahouse owner chased after him, offering him a nearly new oil-paper umbrella.
"It's nothing, young master, take it to keep out the wind and snow."
The owner shoved the umbrella into Fang Jie's hand, waiting for him to say thank you before running back, satisfied. It had been a long time since anyone had sat down to listen to his stories; this young man was a good listener. Fang Jie walked back, umbrella in hand, unable to resist glancing again at the stray cat.
For some reason, there seemed to be a complex longing in the stray cat's eyes.
Fang Jie smiled, thinking to himself that he'd become suspicious after hearing just one story.
The young man walked alone on the snowy road.
As he disappeared at the corner of East 18th Street, it seemed as if a dark cloud had fallen rapidly from the sky, landing in the dilapidated courtyard. The stray cat, huddled in the corner, let out a pitiful cry and turned to flee. The teahouse owner watched the frightened cat run away, scoffing, thinking to himself, "Don't try to scare me."
He watched the boy leave, unaware that a pair of gloomy eyes were peering out from a crack in the wall of the dilapidated courtyard.
The shopkeeper thought the boy had given him an extra twenty coins for tea, enough to buy a new oil-paper umbrella. He'd gained a favor by giving away an umbrella, and perhaps even a new regular customer. He felt a surge of pride, considering himself a true business genius.
The stray cat vanished without a trace, and the boy disappeared as well.
That very day, three more murders occurred in Chang'an City.
The three dead were all students from the Martial Arts Academy.