“The truth? What use is that?
I don’t care! I only want him dead! I want his lineage ended, I want blood for blood, I want him to suffer a fate worse than death, ahhh!”
Wanniang forced a smile that looked uglier than weeping, streaks of bloody tears streaming down her face:
“The parents who cherished me are dead, and my brothers, uncles, and cousins went with them—all because I was blind, unable to see that Wang Fugui was a venomous wretch with a rotten heart and foul lungs, and foolishly trusted him!
Thirty years have already passed. Who would overturn the verdict for my Qu family? Who would be willing to cry out against this injustice on my behalf?
All these years, day after day, I have brooded and waited, longing only for the day when I can carve the flesh off that beast piece by piece to comfort the spirits of my parents in Heaven!”
—Having been dead for so many years and watching her enemy step over the flesh and blood of her kin on his path to wealth and prestige, how could Wanniang not go mad?
“Alright.”
Nan Zhi crouched down, unbothered by getting blood on herself, and wrapped her arms around Wanniang.
Mimicking the way her Grandma used to soothe her, she gently patted Wanniang’s back:
“Then we’ll kill him together and get your revenge.”
Wanniang froze.
Promptly, bloody tears poured down uncontrollably.
...
What Wanniang wanted Nan Zhi to do was simple.
Tear down the portraits of the two divine generals, Shen Tu and Yu Lei, from the Wang family’s main gates, and then scratch up the portrait of the Kitchen God in the distillery.
That way, Wanniang would be able to enter the Wang family estate.
However, the question remained: if Wanniang hadn’t been able to enter the distillery all these years, what was with the rumors of the distillery being haunted?
Still, wishing nothing more than for a vile scoundrel like Wang Fugui to meet an early demise, Nan Zhi suppressed her confusion and didn't ask.
She directly WeChatted her manager, taking two days off in a row.
Nan Zhi swore that this time, she would make sure Wang Fugui died with exquisite rhythm.
The next night, once Nan Ye in the same room was fast asleep, Nan Zhi quietly slipped out of bed, scaled the wall, and made her way to the Wang family estate.
In the middle of the night, Taihe Tower closed up and saw off its last patrons.
Yawning and wearing a face full of exhaustion, the waiter put up the door planks, completely unaware that someone had slipped into the rear courtyard under cover of darkness.
Nan Zhi slipped up to the small west gate, spotting the divine portraits on the door from a distance.
What was painted on them wasn't the Qin Qiong and Yuchi Gong commonly seen in modern times, but Shen Tu and Yu Lei.
Yu Lei wore multicolored armor with a stern expression, holding a golden melon mace. With a red face, black hair, tiger-like eyes, and a broad ox nose, his piercing gaze shone with divine light like a heavenly eye, keeping ordinary ghosts and monsters at bay.
Shen Tu, meanwhile, wore black armor and gold boots, one hand stroking his beard while the other held a serpent and a golden melon mace. Beneath his phoenix eyes, his expression was genial and his posture relaxed, bringing joy to any ordinary folk who looked upon him.
Nowadays, when the Song people put up door gods, they mostly posted portraits of the Shenlong General and the Demon Suppression Supervisory Officer on account of the Demon Suppression Division.
People who pasted Shen Tu and Yu Lei were rather rare.
The moment Nan Zhi saw these two door god portraits, an involuntary sense of awe welled up within her.
—She had no idea where these images had been obtained from, but no matter what angle she viewed them from, the eyes of the divine generals stared fixedly at her.
Nan Zhi knew the door gods possessed spiritual resonance, so directly tearing the portraits down was out of the question.
Shen Tu and Yu Lei were brothers, said to be gods from the era of the Yellow Emperor who resided on a massive peach tree three thousand li wide on Mount Taodu.
Though distinct in personality, both brothers abhorred evil, commanding golden roosters to devour wicked spirits, striking fear into the hearts of all ghosts.
“I am Nan Zhi, an arrest officer of the Northwest Circuit Demon Suppression Division, mentored under Tushan. Greetings to the two divine generals.”
Struck by a sudden inspiration, Nan Zhi promptly cupped her hands in salute:
“I have come today regarding an old, unresolved case. The master of this distillery, Wang Fugui, is a wicked man who has committed countless atrocities; his heinous crimes are too numerous to recount.
The victim is waiting right outside the gates, unable to enter and confront this villain face-to-face only due to the august presence of you two divine generals. I humbly ask the generals to grant passage and let her in.”
With that, Nan Zhi gave a full, detailed account of Wang Fugui’s deeds from start to finish.
Whoosh—
Rustle...
Suddenly, a gust of cold wind swept in from nowhere. The portraits on the doors flapped violently and fell to the ground.
It was as if they couldn't wait to leave this place.
Those who commit many injustices will bring about their own destruction.
Even Shen Tu and Yu Lei were unwilling to continue shielding an evil man like Wang Fugui.
—The haunting in the distillery was the best proof of that.
“Thank you, Generals. Once I’m done with this matter, I will surely find a good place for the two of you.”
Overjoyed, Nan Zhi stepped forward, carefully retrieved the two door god portraits, and slipped into the distillery.
The distillery was usually brightly lit throughout the night, but due to the recent haunting rumors, no one worked at midnight these days.
This made things much easier for Nan Zhi.
Following the same procedure, she went to the kitchen and paid her respects to the Kitchen God, recounting all of Wang Fugui’s villainous deeds one by one.
This time, Nan Zhi didn't even need to lift a hand.
The mottled portrait on the wall peeled off on its own, colorful pigments shedding along with yellow mud and crashing down to the floor in a flurry.
Nan Zhi: “...”
It seemed even the heavens couldn't tolerate Wang Fugui being alive anymore.
Finally, following Wanniang’s prior instructions, Nan Zhi went over to the “mother vat” and lifted the wine vat down from its elevated platform.
The vat weighed at least a thousand jin and would normally take at least eight grown men working together to lift it.
Yet in Nan Zhi’s hands, it was as light as lifting a block of tofu.
The bottom of the vat was densely plastered with talismans.
Some were quite old, their cinnabar ink faded into a dim reddish smudge.
Others were brand new, the cinnabar vivid as fresh blood, inscribed stroke by stroke with ghost-suppressing incantations.
Afraid of being discovered, Nan Zhi placed the wine vat back, then clapped her hands in satisfaction:
“Done! Time to head back to sleep!”
With the restrictions on her movement removed, Wanniang turned into a mass of black mist, drifting lightly toward her destination.
A woman’s shrill wailing mingled with ghostly laughter, rippling out layer upon layer into the dark night along with the evening wind:
“My lord’s heart is of iron, my heart of stone... Yet what I see is a beast with the heart of a wolf and the malice of a viper...”
“The moon in the heavens resembles a cluster of clouds from afar. As the night deepens and the cold wind rises, scatter the clouds around the moon for me, and shine upon the heartless betrayer...”
“Hehehe... My lord, I have searched so bitterly for you! Hahahaha...”
The resentful energy suppressed for thirty years erupted all at once, blanketing the sky above the Wang family estate. Pitch-black ghostly energy slowly seeped down, wisps and strands drifting into the Wang Family Distillery.
As if alive, this resentful energy turned into strands of hair the moment it touched the ground, crawling into corners, slipping into water vats, dropping into wine jars, and hiding between brick crevices...
From Nan Zhi’s perspective, the entire Wang family estate was tightly wrapped within Wanniang’s hair.
Fortunately, Wanniang retained her sanity.
The resentful energy spared ordinary folks, slithering only into the rooms of the Wang household members.
Excluding the innocent Ma Chunxiang, anyone who had helped Wang Fugui harm the Qu family all those years ago was entangled by these resentful strands of hair.
With such a massive disturbance, how could the demons and ghosts in the city remain unaware?
Inside the City God Temple, the group of mud ghosts trembled in terror, retreating into the clay statues without daring to utter a sound.
The old temple keeper looked toward the Wang family's direction, shaking his head with a sigh: “Sigh...”
In a dilapidated rat hole, Shu Jiulang was utterly terrified, shivering as he clutched a litter of rat pups:
“Heavens above! A Painted Skin Ghost just left, so how did another Greater Ghost pop up?!”
—From within a certain household's firewood pile, a red fox poked half its head out, shrieked in terror at the resentful energy, and darted back inside.
—Outside Dingyuan City, a dust-covered senior brother and junior sister looked up into the distance, their faces filled with shock:
“Not good! Ghostly energy manifesting form—such heavy resentful energy!”
...
The Wang family was haunted.
Master Wang had been throttled by a vengeful female ghost and left hanging from the roof beam for an entire shichen.
By the time he was cut down, his face was as purple as an eggplant, his tongue sticking halfway out of his mouth.
—Fortunately for him, the servants found him early; otherwise, the entire Wang household would have already hung white mourning banners, donned hemp mourning garments, and served the funeral feast.
By early morning on the third day, the news of the haunting at the Wang family had spread across almost the entire county town.
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