Soon after, Li Shen and Lin Qingyu arrived at the grand entrance of the Huang family estate.
The high walls and massive gates left Li Shen momentarily awestruck. Wealthy families always had sprawling grounds—this one easily dwarfed his small courtyard several times over.
Waiting outside the gate was Madam Huang, a young widow in her twenties. Though her posture was elegant, her coarse mourning attire and the simple cloth tying her hair into a bun betrayed her grief. Her tear-streaked face and swollen red eyes suggested she had just finished a long bout of sorrow.
Behind her stood a small boy, chubby and pale, clearly her stepson. He avoided eye contact, staring down at his shoes silently.
"You… are you agents from the Spirit Warden Office?" Madam Huang asked politely upon seeing them. "May I know your names?"
Lin Qingyu straightened her back and replied proudly, "Junior Warden Lin Qingyu."
Li Shen paused for a moment before answering, "I am Xiao Yue," adopting a temporary alias for safety.
Madam Huang's eyes widened slightly as she regarded Lin Qingyu. "So you are the fabled 'Ghost-Slaying Blade of Blackwater City!' I've long admired your skill. Please forgive my earlier hesitation."
Then her gaze lingered on Li Shen. She studied him for a moment, reluctant to look away.
"This Lord Li is… remarkably handsome."
Li Shen merely touched his face, smiling faintly while silently thinking: Madam, your husband's funeral isn't even over yet…
Following Madam Huang inside, the two wardens entered the estate.
The three-courtyard compound was vast and meticulously designed. Main halls, side chambers, ponds, and rockeries created an elegant and restrained atmosphere. Wealth whispered from every corner.
But now the air was thick with the smell of burning offerings. Soul banners flapped lightly, their paper rustling with unseen energy. A solemn gloom weighed heavily on the estate.
Less than a week had passed since the merchant's death. His body remained in a chamber, clad in funeral garments with yellow talisman paper affixed to his face, giving him an eerie appearance.
"Please… you must eliminate the spirit that killed my husband!" Madam Huang sobbed, pressing a silk handkerchief to her face.
Lin Qingyu bowed slightly. "Do not worry. We will honor your trust." She then glanced at Li Shen, a playful glint in her eyes.
"You are said to understand spirits better than anyone in the Office. Find the spirit—we'll deal with it together."
Li Shen nodded, smiling. "Leave it to me."
He turned to the young boy before him.
"And you are?"
"Huang Guangli," the boy replied softly.
"You reported this incident?"
"Yes, Lord."
"Is the deceased your father?"
"Yes."
"And Madam Huang is your mother?"
"No. She is my stepmother."
Li Shen glanced at the graceful widow and back at the boy. Indeed, it was obvious she could not have given birth to such a large child at her age.
"Guangli, why are you certain the spirit is hiding in your home?" Li Shen asked.
The boy shivered. "At night, I hear knocking… but when I open the door, no one is there. I think… the spirit that killed my father is coming for me next. I'm afraid it will… tear out my heart while I sleep."
His eyes were bloodshot and weary from sleepless nights.
"Do not be afraid," Li Shen said gently, patting the boy's head like a calming gesture. "Take me to your room. I'll investigate."
"Yes, Lord," Huang Guangli replied obediently.
---
Huang Guangli's Room
In traditional courtyard layouts: parents occupied the north room, the eldest son the east wing, the second son the west wing, daughters in the back, and servants in service quarters.
As the only son, Huang Guangli's room was spacious and well-furnished. The windows had carved latticework, the roof curved elegantly, and crimson curtains adorned the beams. Wealth and refinement radiated from every corner.
But now the room was heavily warded. Mugwort leaves lined the doors, a peach-wood sword hung from the ceiling, and layers of talismans covered the windows.
To Li Shen—a cultivator of talismans—these were laughably crude.
Amateurs really have it easy… he thought.
He approached the entrance and knocked on the bronze door knocker.
Dong! Dong!
"Guangli, is that the sound you hear at night?" he asked.
The boy hesitated. "I… think so."
Li Shen noted the uncertainty. He pushed open the door.
The first thing he saw was a full-sized bronze mirror.
Inside, his reflection stared back—perfectly poised, handsome, and composed. But the mirror blurred the image slightly, as if shrouded by gray mist.
In Feng Shui, mirrors positioned opposite doors were considered conduits of Yin energy, capable of attracting malevolent spirits. Combined with the funeral rites in the house, the room had become a trap for ghosts.
Li Shen's expression grew serious. He circled the mirror, scanning the room carefully. Weak sunlight filtered through the talisman-covered windows, casting dim halos on the furniture.
Even the lush potted plants in the corner failed to enliven the room.
"Guangli," he asked suddenly, "have you considered the knocking might not be coming from outside your door?"
The boy tilted his head. "What… do you mean?"
Li Shen smiled faintly and tapped the bronze mirror.
Clang! Clang!
Huang Guangli's face was drained of color. He stumbled backward, pointing at the mirror.
"That… that's it! That's the sound! The ghost… it's inside the mirror… it wants to come out!"
"Stay calm," Li Shen instructed, raising a finger.
Then he turned to the mirror and grinned.
His reflection grinned back.
He blinked.
The reflection blinked.
He raised a peace sign.
The reflection mirrored him perfectly.
"Let's play a few rounds of rock-paper-scissors," Li Shen suggested casually.
"Rock, paper, scissors!"
And, to his mild amusement, he lost four consecutive rounds.
---