Ghost Story

Nearby villagers stopped and bowed with cupped fists as a small sedan chair passed by. The little wooden box was just large enough to fit one person, and the windows were covered with thick black curtains despite the sweltering summer heat approaching its midday peak. The box was carried on bamboo poles by two burly men who had the look of bodyguards. A fierce-eyed man with muscles protruding beneath his black robes and evil-looking scars on his face led the palanquin toward Shao Manor. The villagers kept their heads down as the sedan chair passed, maintaining a respectful bow.

The villagers straightened their backs after the sedan chair departed, and they watched it continue on its way.

"Look, its the ghostly young master, afraid of letting the sun touch his pampered skin," a leather-faced farmer said with unconcealed mockery in his voice as he set down a bundle of wood for a moment to knead a knot in his shoulder with his fingers.

"Shut up, don't speak ill of him or you'll be cursed," a round-cheeked man admonished in a hushed voice.

"Ha, what are you, a child? Don't tell me you believe the stories your wife frightens your children with so they won't wander into the forest?"

The wary man shook his head at his neighbor's sneering.

"You know how the young master died six years ago?"

"I've heard that rumor. They say he got sick, then better, right?" The leather-faced man implicitly denied the round-cheeked man's assertion.

"Hmpf. Well, of course that's what they say. What else can they say? I mean, the truth..."

"The truth?"

"It's too horrible of a truth."

"What is the truth?"

The leather-faced man wasn't particularly interested in hearing "the truth," but he was happy to have an excuse to slack off. Fortunately for him, the round-cheeked man was the type of person who loved to gossip.

"My brother's wife saw him once, when she was out gathering herbs in the forest. He never walks around the village in broad daylight, but she saw him sitting on a stump."

"A stump?"

"Yeah, a stump."

"What the hell is so special about that?"

"I'm getting to that!"

The round-cheeked man puffed out his cheeks in anger, which comically lent itself to the image of a small child.

"As I was saying, she saw him sitting on the stump. She got a good look at him, and what she saw wasn't no snobbish young master. She saw a ghost!"

The leather-faced man didn't interrupt, as he was drawn into the story against his will.

"The young master had white hair like snow, and his skin was as bloodless as a corpse. He just sat there, unmoving with his eyes closed. My brother's wife was spellbound by his strange appearance, and she didn't move either. Then, his eyes opened. They were like twin pools of blood, and they were looking right at my brother's wife. She couldn't scream, she was too scared, but thankfully she was able to run home as fast as she could. But when she got home, the family cow got sick. It's a good thing my brother's wife didn't scream, 'cause who knows what would've happened had she done anything else to offend the young master. My brother's wife is a smart woman, and she knows for sure what's human and what isn't. The young master is not one of the living, and that's precisely why we mustn't offend him."

The round-cheeked man inhaled deeply after he finished recounting the tale of the ghostly young master. The leather-faced man stared at him as if mulling over his words.

"What about his clothes?"

"What about them?"

"Were they white too?"

"What?"

"You said your brother's wife said he was all white, what about his clothes?"

The question contained a strongly teasing tone, which prompted the round-cheeked man to release an angry huff.

"Fine, go ahead and make light of the spirits. Maybe you'll be blessed with more brains in your next reincarnation, if there's a soul left to reincarnate."

"Maybe you'll be blessed with a spine next time you reincarnate!" the leathery-faced man shot back angrily. But a shiver ran down his spine nonetheless, and his eyes unconsciously strayed to the sedan chair that had now reached the gates of Shao Manor. As he watched the back of the sedan chair in the distance, he felt as if he was being watched by something inhuman.

The leather-faced man resolved to pour some salt around his home when he returned as he picked up the bundle of wood with the feeling of looming danger making his guts squirm.