Chapter Sixty-six: Wei Renshi Slays the Ghost

Wei Renshi had still underestimated Zhang Gan’s abilities.

He had said three days, but on the very next day, Zhang Gan sent someone to lead a group of people to Wei Renshi’s residence.

The person who brought them showed great respect to Wei Renshi. He explained that these were the finest storytellers in Luoyang, and a few had even been acquired through some underhanded means. Now, all were at Wei Renshi’s disposal.

Wei Renshi mused that this truly was the way of the underworld—resorting to such tactics.

However, he was determined not to treat them unfairly.

He expressed his gratitude, kept the group for a meal at his home, and listened to each of them tell a story. In the end, he selected two to stay, gave the others a small sum of money, and sent them on their way.

That afternoon, Wei Renshi sat down with the two men and explained what it meant to perform storytelling, how to use intonation, gestures, facial expressions, and other techniques to captivate an audience, sharing the storytelling methods he knew from later eras. These men were used to reciting scriptures, so telling stories was something altogether different.

In short, Wei Renshi spent the entire afternoon teaching them, modeling it after the feeling of listening to storytelling on the radio in his previous life, and only stopped when night had fallen.

“Rest assured, gentlemen,” Wei Renshi said, “as storytellers in Dream Tower, I will not treat you poorly. Meals three times a day are provided. If you wish to stay and tell stories only here, your lodging is covered as well. And each month, three strings of cash for each of you.”

“But there are two conditions. First, if you wish to perform elsewhere, you must first fulfill your hours here before going anywhere else. Second, the stories I give you may only be told in Dream Tower—you must not tell them elsewhere.”

“Three strings?” The two storytellers were taken aback. Usually, relying on storytelling as their livelihood, after deducting food and lodging, it was already good if they could save a few hundred coins a month.

Moreover, since they had been sent by Zhang Gan’s people, how could they dare offend the young master before them? They certainly would not risk telling these stories elsewhere.

Naturally, both immediately agreed.

After the two left and everyone had finished their meal, Sun Peng came over and asked, “Master, should we call the workers from the front now?”

Wei Renshi remembered the matter and replied, “Let’s wait another half hour.”

Sun Peng nodded and went to notify the staff.

Wei Renshi went to the kitchen, burned some plant ash, clarified a bowl of ash water, took out the peachwood sword and turmeric paper he had bought from the Grand Daoist Temple, and had a table carried into the courtyard.

As darkness deepened, Sun Peng brought the workers to the back.

Wei Renshi had everything prepared.

The performance began.

“There is nothing unclean in this house,” Wei Renshi announced to the crowd. “It’s just that none of you know this, so you’re afraid. But since you’re all frightened, I will, before you all, personally capture what’s in the courtyard and slay it for you to see. Once you witness this, you’ll have nothing to fear.”

The crowd fell silent, anxiously watching Wei Renshi.

“Let me ask you,” Wei Renshi continued, seeing their silence, “if I kill it before your eyes, will you still be afraid?”

“Well… if you can slay it, Master, then we certainly won’t be afraid,” Sun Peng replied, glancing around.

The others nodded.

“If it’s killed, what’s there to fear?” Sun Youqing added, and the crowd nodded again.

“Very well, then I shall act. The owner of Spring Breeze House actually died of illness; had a famous doctor been sought sooner, he might have recovered. A pity.” Wei Renshi, taking on the air of a master, declared, “But, so you may rest easy, I will slay this innocent thing. Watch carefully.”

With that, he stepped back and swung the peachwood sword theatrically.

“Step the Seven Stars, wear the Eight Trigrams robe. Focus the mind to know all things, roam freely in the void. Yin and yang in hand, heaven and earth up the sleeve. The dust of the world before my eyes, heaven and earth at my command…” Wei Renshi muttered as he moved, sword waving.

At times he poked the earth with the sword, at others, flicked the turmeric paper into the air, moving ceaselessly about the courtyard.

The onlookers stared wide-eyed as he chanted and gestured, enshrouded in mystery.

Suddenly, a strong wind arose, whipping Wei Renshi’s robes.

The sudden gust startled everyone. Wei Renshi, however, was secretly delighted—he felt heaven itself was aiding him.

He angled his body, poised his sword, and, seizing the moment, stabbed a piece of turmeric paper, then brought the sword down hard, pinning a stack of the paper to the table.

As the wind continued, he stepped back a few more paces, brandished the sword again, and struck the turmeric paper once more.

When the wind finally died down, calm returned. Wei Renshi seized the moment to put away the sword, exhaled deeply, and addressed the crowd, “It is now sealed within this turmeric paper. Now, I shall destroy it—watch closely.”

He held the peachwood sword horizontally and recited, “Eyes like lightning, radiant to the eight directions. Seeing through all, none can resist. By my command, be gone!”

With that, he dipped his fingers in the clarified ash water and smeared them on the sword, then brought it down hard on the stack of turmeric paper.

“Watch closely!” Wei Renshi shouted, pressing the sword down slowly and forcefully over the paper.

Suddenly, as if a wound had been opened on a living body, a blood-red mark appeared on the turmeric paper.

The crowd was frozen, mouths agape, but they quickly covered them and dared not make a sound.

Wei Renshi drew the sword across the paper again, and once more, a blood-red gash appeared!

He repeated this motion again and again, until no more blood-red marks appeared, then stopped.

“Do you see? I have slain it,” Wei Renshi told the crowd, pointing to the turmeric paper. “You have nothing to fear from now on.”

“Young—young master…” Sun Peng stammered, unable to form a complete sentence. “The—the turmeric paper bled! The ghost was killed by the young master!”

“Who would have thought young master had such abilities!” Old Sun was nearly in tears. “Heaven has opened its eyes!”

“Young master is amazing!” Xi’er gazed at Wei Renshi with adoration, her cheeks flushed.

Wei Renshi almost lost his composure, but maintained his poise and reassured everyone, “Rest easy. The owner of Spring Breeze House died of illness—it had nothing to do with such things. Now that I have slain it, nothing remains. Stay and earn your living without fear.”

“Yes!” the crowd shouted excitedly, all traces of their previous terror gone.