Volume One Carefree Among Indistinguishable Mulberry Leaves Chapter Eighty-Eight The Long Flute

As arranged beforehand, Qifeng arrived at the old Qi residence at dusk with five guards. The estate had many buildings, so lodging them posed no difficulty.

Yang Ning had originally intended to send Qifeng straight to Jingzhou City to find the Prefect of Jiangling and, in the name of the Heir of the Brocade Robes, ask directly about the escorting of the tax silver, to see whether Jingzhou had truly dispatched soldiers for the task. But evening had already fallen, so he ordered Qifeng to set out at daybreak instead.

Qifeng had arrived on time, yet Qi Cheng had not returned on time.

Gu Qinghan remained in the accounts room until dusk, exhausted beyond measure. She had reviewed the tax records for the past three years, examining them with utmost care, but found not the slightest flaw.

She knew that such an immense ledger, so meticulously kept, could not possibly have been completed in merely two or three months. Otherwise it would never have been so flawless, without the tiniest error. If these accounts were false, then it meant that from three years ago, the old residence had begun keeping two sets of records, one true and one counterfeit.

She had always believed that Jiangling was the Qi family’s rear stronghold, the foundation of their power, and that the old residence was of the highest importance, a place where no lapse could possibly occur. Only now did she discover that the old estate was far more complicated than she had imagined.

If these accounts were genuine, then the tax silver really had been sent to the capital a month ago. But why had the marquis’s residence not seen even a single tael of it? The tax silver sent to the capital could hardly have sprouted wings and vanished into thin air. She wanted to know exactly where that silver had been delivered, but Qi Cheng remained missing, and Xiao Cui, who had been assigned to escort the tax silver, had gone with Qi Cheng to Jingzhou City. Without seeing them, there was no way to trace the matter to its source.

After traveling day and night for so long, and having slept poorly the night before, then working all day today, she was utterly spent. At Yang Ning’s urging, she went back to her room first. The old residence had maids to help with bathing, and since Qi Cheng had brought her luggage, she had fresh clothes to change into.

Yang Ning, however, was in no hurry to rest. He too had grown deeply suspicious of what was happening at the old residence, and wanted to see how Qi Cheng would explain himself when he returned.

He waited for the better part of the night, yet Qi Cheng still did not come back, and he faintly sensed that matters were not simple.

The night was still and quiet, the autumn moon like water. Strolling at leisure through the courtyard of the old residence, he found himself, perhaps without realizing it, on the path near the haunted courtyard. Looking up, he saw that under the moonlight that courtyard was utterly still and lifeless, giving off a rather sinister air.

Yang Ning thought it was clearly no place of good omen. He turned and walked a little way, then paused and glanced back again.

Wei Tong had earlier said that this courtyard was haunted. Yang Ning naturally did not believe it, yet he found it strange: two people had entered that courtyard one after another, and both had died in baffling circumstances. Could it truly have been from fright caused by ghosts?

His curiosity had always been intense. If Wei Tong and Gu Qinghan had not described the haunted courtyard with such mystery, he might not have cared at all. But precisely because both of them had said the place was strange and should be avoided, his curiosity about it only deepened.

He had always been bold as brass, and though the sight of that eerie courtyard did make his skin prickle, he still felt that the residence, barred to all ever since the old marquis’s time, must be hiding no small secret.

Wei Tong had mentioned that the two dead men seemed to have sneaked inside only after the sound of the flute arose. If that flute music truly came from a solitary ghost, then since there was no flute sound now, did that mean the ghost was not in the courtyard at present?

As he thought, he had already turned back, and after a brief pause he slowly made his way toward the courtyard.

Autumn leaves lay cold and forlorn; the shadows of the trees were dense and heavy. The withered vines clinging to the walls looked like hundreds and thousands of poisonous snakes twisted together. Yang Ning reached the gate, glanced around by moonlight, then listened intently. Inside was deathly silent, without the slightest sound.

The courtyard wall was not especially high. For Yang Ning, climbing over it was effortless. After a moment’s hesitation, he went to the wall, looked around to make sure no one was nearby, then grasped a clump of dead vine and easily climbed to the top. Crouching there, he looked down into the courtyard and saw that it was not large. In the center stood a lonely house, and vines had overrun the grounds.

Under the cold moon, that house looked exceptionally bleak, standing so grimly in the middle of the courtyard that when the wind blew, Yang Ning himself felt a chill run down his spine.

After a brief hesitation, he gritted his teeth, drew the Cold Blade into his hand, leaped down from the wall, and landed inside the courtyard.

He walked closer and saw that much of the house had already collapsed, though the door was only half shut. Neglected for many years, it had begun to rot.

With the Cold Blade in his right hand, he gently pushed the door open with his left. The door creaked loudly, the sound itself chilling. As soon as it opened, a stale, moldy, decayed smell rushed into his nostrils, unpleasant beyond measure. Yang Ning waved a hand before his nose, then stepped lightly inside.

The house had three rooms: two side rooms and a fairly spacious central hall.

The hall was simply furnished. In the center stood a table, with two chairs beside it. In one corner stood a screen frame, though the screen itself had long since rotted away, leaving only the frame upright. Whether the wood of the table and chairs was especially durable or not, they had not decayed; only a layer of dust covered them.

Yang Ning looked around, then moved lightly toward the room on the left. The door was shut but not locked. A gentle push and it opened.

Moonlight spilled in through the window. Though it was night and the room was dim, enough light remained to make things faintly visible. Facing the door, there was a small dressing table against the wall, and something seemed to be placed atop it. Yang Ning entered the room and looked inside, only to find a wooden couch in the corner. Of course it had no bedding, but the entire couch was still remarkably intact, without rot.

At this point, Yang Ning found it very strange indeed.

According to Wei Tong, this courtyard had been sealed off decades ago, and no one had entered since. If that was true, then after so many years the furnishings inside could not possibly have remained so intact. Even if the furniture wood were especially durable, after stepping into the room he had not seen a single spider web.

He knew perfectly well that not to mention decades, even if a room were left unattended for only a few years, a place like this would inevitably be full of spider webs everywhere. Yet neither the hall nor this room showed a single one. That was highly abnormal.

He also recalled touching the table outside just now: the surface had indeed been covered with dust, but from Yang Ning’s experience, if no one had entered to clean for decades, the dust should have been thick and heavy. Yet what he had felt was only a thin film of gray. Judging by the amount, the place had likely gone uncleaned for only a few months.

Could there truly be a ghost in this house? And was that ghost even cleaning the room itself?

Or was Wei Tong lying, and had people simply been coming here from time to time to dust the place?

The furnishings were sparse. Yang Ning took a few steps forward and approached the table facing the door, only then realizing it was a dressing stand. At once he remembered Gu Qinghan saying that someone woman had once died in this courtyard. Seeing the dressing stand now, he understood that this room must once have belonged to that woman she had mentioned.

An image of a female ghost with long hair covering her face surfaced in his mind, and a chill ran down his back. Looking around, he took a deep breath and examined it more carefully. On the dressing stand sat a cosmetics box. The lid was on, but it was not locked. With the Cold Blade clenched in his right hand, he extended his left and opened the box.

Inside was not empty. There was a rouge-and-powder case, a pair of earrings, and a bracelet. Though both the bracelet and the earrings were delicately made, they were clearly copper and not valuable. Yang Ning thought that since the Qi family was a great clan of Jiangling, a woman living in a separate courtyard would certainly not have been an ordinary maidservant. She must have had some standing in the household. Even if she did not have a gold bracelet, she ought to have had at least a silver one. Yet the dressing box contained only a copper bracelet, which did not fit the Qi family’s status at all.

The rouge and powder had long since dried and congealed into lumps. There was nothing else.

Yang Ning gently closed the box again, then noticed a drawer in the middle of the dressing stand. He opened it softly and found only two things inside: a copper mirror small enough to hold in one’s hand, and another object wrapped in black silk, long and slender. At a time like this, Yang Ning did not want to touch the mirror. Looking into a mirror in such a grim, yin-filled room might well reveal something unclean within it.

He picked up the object wrapped in silk. The wrapping was very careful; it must be something of great value. Unwrapping the silk, he revealed what lay inside.

At once, surprise appeared on Yang Ning’s face.

A flute.

What had been wrapped in the black silk was a long flute.

In an instant, Yang Ning thought of Wei Tong saying that flute music had echoed out from this courtyard every year. Could that sound have come from this very flute?

The flute was beautifully crafted. Though it seemed to have some age to it, it was spotless, not covered with the slightest dust.

“It’s a person...” Yang Ning murmured under his breath.

At that moment, it seemed he understood. To him, all this talk of haunting was nothing more than this: someone had once died here, and later the place had been forbidden to all. After a long time with no one entering, it naturally grew cold and eerie. Once something becomes mysterious, it inevitably gives rise to endless speculation.

He believed that the one playing the flute could never have been a ghost. More likely, there was someone who came here every year, not only playing the flute, but also cleaning the room.

A courtyard long left empty, yet with flute music rising from it from time to time—no wonder people mistook it for a haunted place.

As for those two who had climbed the wall and entered, Yang Ning believed they had been killed by the flute player. After all, both times they slipped in over the wall, it was when the flute sound had begun. At that moment, the flutist was right here, and the two had run into them head-on, only to meet a miserable end.

Yang Ning frowned. If his guess was correct, then what appeared in this house was a person, not a ghost. In that case, who could this person be, coming here without fail for decades to clean the house, playing the flute through the night, and even striking down intruders?

And what sort of connection did this person have with the Brocade Marquis family of Qi?