The tragic case of the Qing family spread very quickly through Lincang City. Even though the yamen intentionally tried to suppress the matter, the Qing family members had died in such a bizarre manner that within two days, rumors were already flying wildly everywhere. People said that a third young master of unknown origin had emerged in the Qing family, and the moment he returned to the manor, he cursed his entire family to death.
Even the servants of the Qing residence whispered about it in private.
Qing Ling, however, did not care. After returning from the yamen, he immediately set to work dealing with the Qing family’s businesses. Although he did not quite understand those account books, the Qing residence had an accountant whose surname was Sun.
As he looked over the books and listened to Mr. Sun’s explanations, Qing Ling discovered that the Qing family’s financial situation was not good at all. Several herbal medicine shops under their name were being liquidated and sold off. Mr. Sun also sighed, saying that having been in the Qing residence for over twenty years, the Qing family business had grown smaller and poorer by the day. In the end, shaking his head and sighing, he said, “Who knows which god of age we offended? A hundred years ago, this Qing family was a wealthy household with a solid foundation. Who would have thought that now everyone is-, sigh!”
Qing Ling fell into deep thought, suddenly recalling a question Shang Changheng had once asked: “Why do you think the Qing family wouldn’t even dare step outside this city?” At the time, because of that so-called life-severing awl, he had not pursued the question further, but now Qing Ling faintly touched upon a trace of the truth.
Since they were a prominent household, why did they choose to hole up in this remote little Lincang?
Since there was a bitter grudge, why did they guard the tomb of Shang Changheng from generation to generation?
Unless they simply could not leave Lincang at all.
Regardless, the current Qing family was nothing more than a messy burden. Qing Ling knew his own limits and that he was not cut out for doing business, but he certainly couldn’t start carrying debts right after coming down from the mountains. He immediately dismissed the crowds of servants from the manor, since he didn’t need anyone to wait on him anyway. Turning around, he prepared to sell off all the residential properties under the Qing family’s name, including the three-courtyard estate, leaving only a smaller two-courtyard residence for himself.
The slightly more valuable items in the large estate were all sold off by Qing Ling. Only the study, packed completely full of books, was moved by Qing Ling into the side room of the small residence to be displayed. Those books included official histories, unofficial histories, and all sorts of miscellaneous volumes. Qing Ling even discovered an entire cabinet filled with books on the cultivation of magical arts. These were all genuine ancient texts rather than copied transcripts, and among them were even numerous bamboo slips. The records inscribed on them were not written in the script of the current dynasty, containing many ancient spell manuals.
Qing Ling grew interested. Since he spent his days accompanied by all sorts of fierce ghosts, seeing this pile of spell manuals finally gave him a glimmer of security.
He pulled out one of the books. Although the ancient script was quite different from today’s, characters since the Zhou dynasty had mostly been unified, and the writing had only undergone slight simplification and modification over time. As long as he made a careful effort to recognize them, Qing Ling did not find it too difficult to read.
However, before he could even finish reading this book, yamen bailiffs broke into the courtyard. The one leading them was precisely the runner who had delivered the message to the Qing residence that day. He still wore an expression of intense alarm, as if facing a formidable enemy, terrified to even make eye contact with Qing Ling. Standing at the doorway, he shouted loudly, “Come here! Take the murderer Qing Ling into custody and throw him into the dungeon to await trial!”
The bailiffs following behind him all hesitated for a moment, but still gritted their teeth and rushed forward. Qing Ling frowned slightly and was muddle-headedly thrown into the heavy dungeon.
Before leaving, the leading bailiff lowered his voice and said, “Look at you, making a fuss over spending a little money was one thing, but now that you’ve been locked up inside, all those possessions of yours that haven’t been sold off yet are going to be confiscated by the state! You’d better think carefully about this!”
He still harbored deep misgivings, turning around and leaving immediately after speaking as if afraid of getting contaminated by any bad luck.
Sitting in the pile of dry straw, Qing Ling finally understood. With so many people dead, the county yamen had to produce a murderer by hook or by crook to report upward and satisfy the authorities, and since Qing Ling had refused to hand over money that day, disaster had simply fallen upon him while he sat quietly at home.
“Shang Changheng.”
Qing Ling called out.
Shang Changheng, dressed in dark mourning robes, immediately manifested, squatting down to pinch Qing Ling’s chin. “You only call upon me when you need help, Qing Ling.”
Qing Ling pushed his hand away. “You didn’t take a small share of the benefits either. The day we left the ancestral hall, I could feel it, the Yin energy inside the ancestral hall vanished completely.”
He had originally thought the Yin energy had simply dissipated, but when reading that spell manual, he happened to find a page stating that when someone died within a corpse-nurturing array, their soul would inevitably be sucked into the array and transformed into refined Yin energy. Those people who died in the ancestral hall, along with the female ghost who had killed repeatedly, had all undoubtedly entered the array, and the Yin energy they transformed into naturally benefited Shang Changheng.
Shang Changheng did not deny it either, directly asking, “What do you want to do then? Kill that magistrate?”
He spoke as casually as if killing someone were no different than plucking weeds.
Qing Ling raised his gaze. “Can you kill them? They are not tied into your karma.”
“Who says killing requires doing it with one’s own hands?” Shang Changheng said leisurely. “As for the people tied to my karma, I haven’t killed a single one of them either.”
Qing Ling was startled.
The people who died at the hands of the female ghost Qiaolian all shared the exact same cause of death as her. Aside from Zhao Yunrou, who died at the hands of Qing Conglan, Qing Ling had also inspected the remaining two deaths: Qing Wenlin had clearly beaten Qing Conglan to death with a stone before going mad and beating himself to death as well.
The methods by which this uncle and nephew died were indeed rather different from how fierce ghosts typically killed.
“So,” Shang Changheng looked at him and asked, “shall we kill him or not?”
Qing Ling pondered for a moment before shaking his head. He held Magistrate Luo in utter contempt, and it was precisely because he relied on having a fierce ghost like Shang Changheng by his side that he dared to brazenly cross swords with a local administrative official without fear. After all, the commoners do not fight officials, but mortals cannot necessarily defeat fierce ghosts, hadn’t they seen how the entire Qing family was reduced to just him?
“Do this.”
Using his delicate face, steady tone, and calm demeanor, Qing Ling gave Shang Changheng a set of instructions, earning a meaningful look from Shang Changheng in return.
Shang Changheng’s figure slowly faded away and did not return even by midnight. Qing Ling, however, ended up waiting for an uninvited guest.
Magistrate Luo stood leisurely outside the dungeon, clicking his tongue twice. “Look at you, why bring this trouble upon yourself?”
Qing Ling couldn’t even be bothered to lift his eyes.
He knew why Magistrate Luo was holding a private trial instead of hearing the case publicly during the day, choosing instead to come lobby him at night.
If Qing Ling were officially convicted, his family assets would naturally be confiscated by the state. Even if Magistrate Luo could skim some grease from the transaction, the vast majority would still have to be sent upward. However, if this matter were quietly suppressed, the assets Qing Ling handed over would go entirely and solidly into Magistrate Luo’s personal private treasury.
“Tomorrow is the formal court trial.” Seeing his attitude, Magistrate Luo grew somewhat anxious, inwardly cursing this wet-behind-the-ears punk for failing to appreciate what was good for him, as his voice grew cold as well. “Think carefully. If you bear the charge of murder, that means losing your head.”
Qing Ling said flatly, “I didn’t kill anyone.”
Magistrate Luo sneered, “The entire Qing family is dead. You, a third young master of unknown origins, reaped the benefits and even lived in the ancestral hall with the corpses for so many days. If you didn’t kill them, who else could it be?”
Qing Ling curved the corners of his lips slightly, revealing a bizarre smile, and asked softly, “Indeed. Why doesn’t Your Honor guess who made them die in such a state?”
The dungeon had only a single small window, and deep into the night, the dim lamplight cast upon that delicate and handsome face made his smile look eerie and sinister, coupled with that profound counter-question. Luo Qingxiang suddenly felt a chilly breeze swirling around him and subconsciously avoided the kid’s gaze.
Realizing what he had done, Luo Qingxiang grew furious and said coldly, “I am the local magistrate. If I say you are the murderer, then you are the murderer! Kid, I’ll give you one more chance, otherwise once the evidence is ironclad, you won’t escape death even if you want to!”
Qing Ling let out a cold snort of laughter.
It was identical in arrogance and pride to Shang Changheng.
He also said coldly, “What a fine local magistrate. I’d like to see precisely how you plan to take my life.”
Seeing that he was completely impervious to persuasion, Luo Qingxiang’s face twitched twice in anger as he violently flicked his sleeve. “You just wait!”
Qing Ling snorted again. Once things settled down, he sat cross-legged on the pile of straw, wanting to try practicing according to the cultivation methods described in the spell manuals he had seen today.
The ancient texts recorded that the sun, moon, stars, and heavenly bodies contained the energies of the universe and the six directions. The Heavenly Stems, Earthly Branches, hours of the day, Yin and Yang five elements, spatial directions, official positions, four seasons, and eight solar terms were intimately connected with human internal organs—heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys, as well as meridians, acupoints, tendons, bones, skin, and hair. The creation of heaven and earth required one to comprehend its mechanisms and profound secrets before one could understand the mind and perceive one’s true nature.
Sitting in meditation to refine the divine intent, regulating breath to open the meridians.
However, Qing Ling did not yet fully understand it, so he could only practice in a messy, haphazard manner. Anyway, the opening chapters of ancient texts always contained such things; if one had talent, one would naturally comprehend it, and if one lacked it, one would feel nothing at all. In other words, practicing poorly wouldn’t ruin anything, so he might as well try it out first.
With this single attempt, his spiritual consciousness plunged into a profound, vast, and ethereal state.
When he opened his eyes again, daylight had already broken brightly, and wisps of light fell from the small window onto Qing Ling’s body.
Sitting cross-legged, Qing Ling slowly opened his eyes, feeling not the slightest bit fatigued. He lightly clenched his hand, thinking to himself that he had gained some insight, so he must possess some talent, right?
Yet, according to what the book described, guiding Qi into the body and accumulating Qi to break through the “three passes” his Dantian should have grown hot and his limbs warm, but him.
Why was he getting colder the more he practiced?
Qing Ling felt somewhat hesitant.
Didn’t they say practicing poorly wouldn’t ruin anything? Could it be that he had made some sort of mistake in his cultivation?
Right at that moment, a bailiff opened the dungeon door, entering with two men intending to put handcuffs and leg irons on Qing Ling. But the moment they touched Qing Ling’s arm, they felt as though they were touching a chilling corpse, screaming in terror as they instinctively yanked their hands back.
The head bailiff frowned and shouted coldly, “What’s going on? Why haven’t you done it yet?!”
“Th-this.” Sweat beaded on the bailiff’s forehead as he dared not move for a long time. “H-he doesn’t feel like a living person at all!”
Qing Ling was already used to this reaction from them.
Yet he could clearly feel his own body temperature; he had no idea why these people kept treating him like a corpse.
Seeing that neither of them dared to make a move, the head bailiff also grew fearful of this bizarre young master of the Qing family. After slight hesitation, he forced himself to say, “Then let’s just go like this. The court session is starting.”
Qing Ling wore a blank expression, only thinking inwardly whether Shang Changheng had returned yet, given how he was always acting stealthily and silently like a ghost day in and day out.
Just in case that wicked official wanted to subject him to any torture, having Shang Changheng around would give him peace of mind.
Utilizing Shang Changheng felt completely natural to Qing Ling. Disgust and rejection were one thing, but after suffering so many losses, what was wrong with getting a little payback out of Shang Changheng?
Besides, that evil spirit was still harboring designs on his life all day long anyway.
In the courtroom.
Qing Ling stood straight and proper. Once court was in session, Luo Qingxiang sat in his official robes beneath the plaque reading “Bright Mirrors Hanging High,” casting a malicious smile toward Qing Ling before immediately declaring, “You person below the court, why haven’t you knelt yet!”
Qing Ling naturally had no desire to kneel, but wondering whether Shang Changheng had returned or not, he hesitated just as a loud crash suddenly echoed.
The plaque reading “Bright Mirrors Hanging High” abruptly detached itself, crashing heavily onto the ground and shattering with visible cracks.
It had nearly smashed straight onto Luo Qingxiang’s head. The crowd cried out in alarm, and Magistrate Luo leaped up in fright, scrambling far away from the plaque. Following that, one gaze after another landed directly on Qing Ling.
He truly was bizarre!
Qing Ling felt entirely at ease now, standing even more upright and composed. Looking at Magistrate Luo, he said calmly, “Does an innocent person still need to kneel, Magistrate Luo?”