The old ghost had been dead for many years, and even in life he’d had only a handful of descendants. More than a decade ago, the visits to his grave had already stopped for good. This little burial mound was the sum total of everything he owned. On an ordinary day he came and went from it with the utmost care, and now that Ji Yi had slapped a hand down on it, he wished with all his heart that the blow had landed on his own body instead.
A hurt in the body beat a hurt in the heart.
Faced with this scene, the blood the old ghost had summoned into his eye sockets to frighten Ji Yi had long since turned to tears. At his age, he was one blink away from weeping outright.
With the balance of power between them reversed, the old ghost no longer dared use the menacing tone he’d tried on Ji Yi earlier. Watching his own tombstone about to be smashed, he panicked and no longer dared lie there. He scrambled up, meaning to stop Ji Yi, then remembered that the fall he’d taken a moment ago still ached, and didn’t dare grab at Ji Yi directly. So all he could do was beg out loud, whimpering, “I don’t want your paper money or your food offerings anymore. I won’t follow you either. Please, just go.”
The old ghost didn’t expect Ji Yi to be such a tough customer. Although he’d been dead many years, his ghostly power was weak. On a normal day, apart from leaving his burial mound to slip into the teahouse in town and sit among the old men, soaking up the lively human bustle, he couldn’t get anywhere far at all.
That business earlier about following Ji Yi home, that had all been so much bluster.
Ji Yi weighed whether to land a second punch, and asked the old ghost, “Have you ever harmed anyone before?”
He asked, but he already had a fair idea of the answer.
There wasn’t a single trace before the old ghost’s grave of anyone having ever come by. If this were a ghost who regularly used tricks like this to hurt people, the scene surely wouldn’t look like this. On top of that, one fall had knocked him flat, clearly he wasn’t a ghost of any great power.
Sure enough, wiping away tears, the old ghost said, “No, never. This was my first time. I’ve never lured anyone back home before.”
“Was that for lack of intent, or lack of ability?” Ji Yi asked, cutting to the heart of it.
The old ghost said nothing at first. Then, feeling the way Ji Yi’s eyes were fixed on him, and seeing Ji Yi’s hand on the tombstone start to twitch as if itching to move, he grew flustered and didn’t dare tell any careless lies. He could only answer honestly, “Lack of ability, lack of ability. This was my first time even opening a living person’s yin-eye [1]the sight that lets a person see ghosts jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_2931950_1_1').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_2931950_1_1', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], }); too.”
The old ghost had assumed his ghostly power had suddenly come into its own and that he’d opened Ji Yi’s yin-eye, little knowing that Ji Yi could see ghosts all along.
Put that way, then, while the old ghost had indeed set out with the intent to harm, there was an element of coincidence to the whole thing too. If Ji Yi hadn’t been able to see these netherworld creatures in the first place, none of this would likely have happened.
At this point the old ghost let out two more pitiful sobs. He’d already worked out that Ji Yi was not to be trifled with, yet had no idea how to stop him. All he knew was that whether his burial mound came through the day in one piece probably depended entirely on Ji Yi’s mood. Then he thought of how he’d gone all these years without offerings, unable to leave this remote wilderness, enduring hunger and misery, and now couldn’t even keep his home. The tears came streaming down.
“My life is so bitter…”
“Hey, hey, hey.” Ji Yi didn’t expect this ghost to actually blubber, all snot and tears. He frowned. “Don’t cry.”
Ji Yi was frowning, but he’d reined in his tone a little, it really did seem to be a word of comfort.
The old ghost figured Ji Yi had at least some heart for pitying the old and the poor after all, and glimpsed a faint dawn of hope.
Thinking Ji Yi was buying it, the old ghost was just about to lay the misery on thicker when he heard Ji Yi impatiently pat the tombstone again. “If you want to cry, cry after I’ve left. What are you howling for? As if I’m not annoyed enough, you shaking me down for damages here?”
He arched an eyebrow, wearing an expression that plainly said “cry again and you’ll get a fist,” which made the old ghost shrink his shoulders.
The tombstone wasn’t struck hard enough to lose another chunk, but a few more crumbs did flake off, plenty to leave the old ghost trembling with fear.
Just what kind of person was this, not an ounce of sympathy, and heavy-handed to boot. Terrifying.
This wasn’t Ji Yi’s first time dealing with netherworld creatures. He knew full well that they too had all sorts of distinct personalities and schemes, and that you couldn’t go soft over a few tears or a hard-luck story, or you’d only bring endless trouble down on yourself. The living and the dead walk separate paths, best to keep clear boundaries in all things, and not go scattering pointless sympathy around.
Hearing Ji Yi’s ferocious words, the old ghost wiped his tears. “Then, then you go on.”
Whatever joy he’d felt at luring a live human back had now scattered clean away. He only wanted this terrifying living man to leave quickly, and to spare him and his tombstone.
But Ji Yi was in no hurry to go. He took an apple out of the backpack he’d brought and, right in front of the old ghost, bit into it. The big, fresh, red apple was crisp, the crunch even sent a droplet of sweet juice spraying faintly into the air.
The old ghost’s eyes locked, transfixed, onto Ji Yi’s chewing mouth. He was practically drooling.
Ji Yi ate without hurry, then asked, unhurried and deliberate, “I hear the people around here say this mountain is haunted, strange things going on. Is that your lot’s doing?”
He said “your lot,” but he clearly meant the ghosts. There was more than one lonely grave on this mountain, holding ghosts both new and old. Ghosts might be everywhere, sure, but in the end, the fewer the people, the thicker the ghostly air. All the more so in mountain woods this seldom visited, where the yin energy bred easily, a few eerie happenings would be no surprise.
The old ghost’s mind had already drifted off to the apple, and only Ji Yi’s question snapped him back. He hurriedly wiped the corner of his mouth, thought it over, and said, “No.” He wasn’t denying it outright, though, because he immediately explained, “It’s not all our doing. What big trouble could the ghosts around these parts possibly stir up?”
Although this was his mother’s hometown, Ji Yi’s maternal grandfather had died early, and after his mother married she’d rarely come back. As a result, Ji Yi’s knowledge of Nanling was limited to the few things his mother had mentioned in passing. He didn’t even know what his grandfather had looked like or what he’d done in life, and he knew even less about this stretch of Beishan.
Because he’d been seeing netherworld creatures all year round for as long as he could remember, Ji Yi was long used to it. Most of the time he simply ignored them. One like the old ghost was the exception.
Now that he was heading up the mountain, and several people he’d passed on the way had all said this area was haunted, Ji Yi wanted to get a sense of the local situation from the old ghost, that way, if anything came up, he could prepare himself in advance.
Hearing the old ghost say they couldn’t stir up big trouble, Ji Yi asked, “What do you mean?”
Even as he asked, he didn’t stop eating the apple. Its fragrance kept wafting out with every bite Ji Yi took, until the old ghost’s legs went weak with craving. Pressed by the circumstances, he gave Ji Yi a rough explanation anyway.
Once he’d heard it out, Ji Yi understood a bit more.
Beishan itself sat on the outskirts of Nanling, and the mountain area they were in now was on the very edge of Beishan. Beishan might be well developed, but that was relative to humans, to ghosts it made no difference at all. Apart from the ones who’d made their homes here from the start, the vast majority of the lonely, wandering ghosts among these hills and wilds were spirits who couldn’t get into the Ghost Capital and so drifted about here.
To put it plainly, the place Ji Yi now stood was the equivalent of the ghost world’s fringe between town and country, swarming with idle, drifting ghosts that even the ghost constables couldn’t quite keep in check. Some eerie things were bound to happen.
And there was another reason the old ghost said it wasn’t all their doing: the places near the woods held other beings too, all manner of goblins and mountain sprites and the like, so it wasn’t all the work of restless ghosts.
By the time Ji Yi had heard it all, the apple in his mouth was down to nothing but the core. Since there was no pollution to worry about out here anyway, he tossed the core into the weeds, clapped his hands, and said, “All right, I’ve got it.”
With that he turned and walked on, as if he meant to leave then and there.
The old ghost had been strung tight with nerves for so long, and this was the moment he’d been waiting for. Seeing that Ji Yi had already walked a dozen-odd meters off, he cast everything else aside and chased after the fragrance of the apple core, hoping to fish it out of the weeds, maybe he could even lick the apple juice off it.
He’d quietly memorized the spot where Ji Yi had casually tossed it a moment ago.
A starving man isn’t picky. He’d simply been hungry far too long.
The apple core wasn’t hard to find after all, the old ghost turned it up in a few rummages. He was just about to take a lick and taste it when he heard the sound of Ji Yi’s footsteps coming back.
Trying to hide it only made it more obvious, the old ghost stashed the core behind his back and feigned innocence. “What is it?”
Ji Yi’s gaze was calm, as if he hadn’t seen the apple core in the old ghost’s hand at all. “Forgot something.”
The old ghost’s heart gave a couple of frightened thumps. He didn’t know what Ji Yi had forgotten, but he was sure it couldn’t be anything good. Then he remembered that Ji Yi had said his home was done for, and now, having said he’d forgotten something, Ji Yi was walking straight toward his burial mound. Terrified that Ji Yi had come to cart his home away, he forgot all about hiding the core for a moment and was about to fling himself down and clutch Ji Yi’s leg, begging for mercy.
But to his surprise, Ji Yi pulled another bright red apple out of his bag and, a split second before the old ghost could latch onto him, bent down and set it before the burial mound.
The old ghost’s lunge stopped short. Ji Yi had already straightened up and gave him a casual wave. “I’m off. No need to see me out.” He offered no explanation for the apple he’d left behind.
This time Ji Yi really did leave, with no sign of looking back.
The old ghost watched Ji Yi’s retreating figure, then, as if not daring to believe it, lowered his head to glance at the big apple set before his grave. He rubbed his eyes and looked again, the big apple was still there, plump and tempting.
The last time anyone had set anything before his grave was more than ten years ago, the final time his daughter had come to sweep it. Ji Yi was fierce enough to scare a ghost, but the apple he’d left really was big, really was fine.
The old ghost’s eyes went hot, and, his feelings all tangled, he wanted to cry again.
The path the old men in the teahouse had pointed out wasn’t hard to find, and after a little while Ji Yi curved back onto the route he was supposed to be taking in the first place. Hongye Village had stood empty for some years now, but the road that had once led there was still there. Some of the main stretches had even been paved with stones. Grass had grown thick in the cracks between them now, but the traces of the old road were still easy enough to make out.
He picked up a thick branch of a fitting shape and size, and as he walked he lightly parted the way ahead with it, in case some small wild creature was hiding in the grass, a way to give both sides a bit of warning in advance.
Now and then there’d be the faint stir of some unnamed creature startled into fleeing through the grass. Beyond that, there was only the rustle of leaves swaying in the wind through the mountain woods, and all manner of birdsong and insect chirps.
The sky was still a little gray and overcast, as it had been earlier, but showed no sign of rain even now. Occasionally a bird would sweep across the horizon, or vanish into the woods up ahead and then let out a long, drawn-out cry.
An atmosphere like this ought to fill someone walking it alone with dread, but Ji Yi didn’t feel afraid. If anything, the wind blowing against his face, brushing his cheeks, gave him a touch of contentment.
After walking a while, Ji Yi stopped at a fork in the road. He was mulling over the details of the directions those people had given him, considering which way was better to take, when a sudden rustling of leaves and weeds came from behind him.
The elevation along his route hadn’t risen, but Ji Yi really was heading deeper and deeper into the mountains. That sound of leaves and weeds scraping clearly wasn’t something a wild hare or a pheasant could make, it was probably some large animal.
Beishan had been developed for tourism for many years, and while there’d never been an incident of wildlife hurting anyone, he’d heard that some parts of it did have wild boars, monkeys, and the like.
Ji Yi quickly put distance between himself and the source of the sound. Out of the corner of his eye he scanned a few trees, thinking about how he might use them if there was any danger, while keeping his gaze fixed ahead on the large animal that might emerge from the thicket.
The commotion in the thicket grew louder and louder. Ji Yi could already see leaves and branches being shoved forward by something bursting to get out, and amid the screening foliage was, of all things, a clump of green fur.
No animal Ji Yi could think of grew green fur.
Could it be one of the mountain goblins the old ghost had mentioned? At the thought, Ji Yi couldn’t help taking another step back, gripping the thick branch tight in his hand.
At last, with a rustling crash, something poked its head out from the thicket and met Ji Yi’s eyes, four eyes locking.
Ji Yi’s tension, brewed to its peak, abruptly collapsed.
That clump of green fur turned out to be a head of dyed hair.
Before Ji Yi could react, the other person instead clutched his own chest, looking thoroughly spooked. “Holy crap, you scared me half to death!”
Ji Yi: “…”
Having confirmed to each other that they were both merely human, the two of them let out a breath of relief.
The other person wriggled all the way out of the grass, his face now showing. He looked to be in his early twenties, maybe a few years younger than Ji Yi, with dark, tanned skin and a big pack on his back. His whole getup looked like he’d come for wilderness survival, except he was also holding a selfie stick with a phone mounted on it.
Of course, the thing you really couldn’t take your eyes off was his green hair, which, set against his skin tone, looked even greener. Even though they were probably about the same age, Ji Yi felt a kind of generation gap between them.
Ji Yi shot a glance over and saw bullet comments popping up now and then on the green-haired guy’s phone, he had to be livestreaming.
The guy seemed to realize he’d been a bit abrupt just now. After looking Ji Yi up and down, he laughed heartily. “Hey there, you here to hike?”
Ji Yi also had a pack on his back and was holding something like a hiking pole in his hand, he did look the part of a hiker. There really were plenty of people who came to Beishan just to climb.
Ji Yi shook his head, working to keep his eyes from drifting toward the guy’s green hair, and answered, “No. My ancestral house is up there. I’m going up to take a look. Are you livestreaming wilderness survival?”
The green-haired fellow shook his head and glanced at the bullet comments again. Whatever it said, he laughed and first spoke to the livestream feed: “Didn’t run into a ghost, but running into a handsome guy isn’t bad either.” He nudged the camera toward Ji Yi, then asked him, “You’re this good-looking, you don’t mind being on camera, right?”
Ji Yi ignored the patter, and didn’t much care whether he was in the guy’s frame or not. He just gave a noncommittal grunt.
Only then did the green-haired guy circle back to Ji Yi’s earlier question. “A while back a fellow streamer came out this way to livestream, and supposedly caught a ghost on camera. So I came to try my luck.”
Hearing him talk so flippantly, casting ghost-hunting as trying his luck, Ji Yi was momentarily at a loss for words.
He remembered the old men in the teahouse mentioning that someone who’d come out to livestream had been scared badly, and looked again at the person in front of him. But he didn’t know where to even begin, whether it was the green hair that was the odder curiosity, or the act of coming out to livestream knowing full well there might be something strange about the place.
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