Chapter 2

As these words were spoken, silence enveloped the area under the sycamore tree, but the typically quiet and reserved Wei Cuicheng broke the stillness. “Madam Lu has returned to her old residence to reclaim the property…”

These words immediately revealed her intention—truly a sharp mind. Lu Shanrou nodded and said: “I’ve already purchased back the old residence. According to the law, the lease agreement you signed with the previous landlord remains valid. You can rest assured and live here until the lease expires. However, once it ends, I will reclaim the house and renovate the property.”

It turned out this banquet was meant to deliver an eviction notice—a gentle yet unmistakable farewell feast.

The principle of “accepting favor humbly and showing appreciation” applied here. Having enjoyed the food and wine, and with the landlady being the former homeowner, Lu Shanrou’s polite and reasonable words made it difficult for the tenants to refuse her, especially Tao Zhu, who had nearly finished a pot of Autumn Dew White wine and looked at Lu Shanrou with a reluctant smile. “I’m here searching for family. I rented this place for half a year. Whether I find them or not, I’ll leave afterward. If I happen to pass through the capital in the future, could I visit Madam Lu again and join you for a meal?”

Lu Shanrou laughed and replied, “Of course. If, as a young woman, you find staying in inns inconvenient, you’re welcome to borrow a room here for a few days—I will happily host you. Aunt Wen, the wine is running low. Please refill Miss Tao’s jug.”

For now, reclaiming the house was the priority; future matters could be dealt with later.

Tao Zhu gleefully held the refilled wine jug and declared, “Madam Lu is so understanding and warmhearted. I truly admire you.”

Wei Cuicheng glanced away and said, “I’ve rented this place for five years—my lease expires next year. I’ll start searching for a suitable house now, and as soon as I find one, I’ll move out.”

Wei Cuicheng lived alone, and now there was a charming widow as his neighbor, who was also living alone. He felt this might cause trouble in the future—after all, it is often said that widows attract gossip and disputes. Preferring to live quietly and keep to himself, he had no desire to be drawn into any complications. As for Tao Zhu—he didn’t even regard her as a woman, just a wild kid, nothing more than a troublemaker.

Both tenants seemed easy to deal with. Lu Shanrou said, “If you find a new place and move out early, I will refund the remaining rent along with your deposit.”

“Of course.” Wei Cuicheng didn’t refuse or show politeness. Everything was straightforward, and accounts were settled fairly, with no debts left on either side.

At that moment, Aunt Wen brought out freshly baked chives and lamb pastries, which were the main dish for the banquet.

Tao Zhu took a bite and exclaimed, “Delicious!” Then, wincing in pain, she shouted, “Hot, hot, hot!” and resorted to munching on watermelon to cool her mouth.

Chives and lamb, both intensely fresh and with strong flavors, are combined in the pastry and fuse together during baking. When bitten into, the aroma bursts forth like an untamed horse running wild, making it impossible to ignore.

Wei Cuicheng, already about seventy percent full, had originally planned to leave the table. But catching the dish’s aroma, he sat back down and continued eating. He ate one. It wasn’t enough. He ate another. Then he ate a third.

During the meal, Tao Zhu ate and drank heartily, talking incessantly, her chatter unstoppable and unreserved. “Madam Lu, I heard this house is haunted. Aren’t you scared to live here alone in the future?”

Lu Shanrou calmly said, “There are no such things as ghosts. Even if ghosts do exist, in life, they were members of the Lu family, and in death, they remain the spirits of the Lu family. They wouldn’t harm me—what do I have to fear from them?”

Tao Zhu then asked, “That night when such a terrible thing happened to your family, why didn’t the neighbors notice anything?”

Lu Shanrou closed her eyes lightly for a moment. Then, opening them, she explained, “On Lantern Festival night, the capital celebrates with all-night revelry. There’s no curfew, and fireworks and firecrackers go off continuously throughout the night. The criminals who attacked my family deliberately kept setting off firecrackers to mask all sounds.”

Even after fourteen years, the despair of shouting to no avail, with no one to answer, still vividly lingered in Lu Shanrou’s mind.

At this point, even the usually carefree Tao Zhu sensed the gravity of the moment. She quickly tried to comfort Lu Shanrou, saying, “The culprits have already faced justice—beheaded or executed by slow slicing—to bring peace to the departed souls. Surely, the sixteen wronged spirits of the Lu family have already reincarnated into good families. I’ve been living here for five days now, and it’s been quiet. There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“It wasn’t sixteen—it was seventeen,” Lu Shanrou said slowly. “Later, my brother-in-law took a rope and hanged himself from this very sycamore tree.”

The Lu family’s eldest daughter had been visiting her parental home during the Lantern Festival. Deeply in love with his wife, her husband couldn’t bear to live without her and took his own life in sorrow.

This matter was known to few. Just then, a cool summer night breeze blew past, swaying the branches of the sycamore tree. The rustling of the leaves sounded eerily like someone hanging by their neck from the branches, struggling with their feet kicking in the air.

Tao Zhu and Wei Cuicheng felt the hairs on the back of their necks stand on end. They thought to themselves: this place is truly uninhabitable!

From now on, every time they looked at the sycamore tree, they’d imagine someone hanging from it.

Tao Zhu sighed, quoting: “What is love in this world that it commands such devotion in life and death?”

Wei Cuicheng, seeming displeased with these sentimental words, stood up and said, “I have other matters to attend to. I will take my leave now. Thank you for your hospitality. One day, I will return the favor with a modest meal.”

He was someone who avoided owing anyone a favor or forming entanglements with others, always keeping everything clear-cut. After Wei Cuicheng left, Lu Shanrou and Tao Zhu continued to eat until nightfall, when mosquitoes began to bite, and they ended the meal.

Wei Cuicheng truly did have matters to attend to. As a commander at the Elephant Training Office, he oversaw dozens of elephants. These giant beasts symbolized auspiciousness, and royal ceremonies could not do without them, as they embodied the majesty of the imperial family. Every morning during court sessions, six elephants were part of the ceremonial guards.

In the capital, there were two elephant stables: one beside Xuanwu Gate in the southern city and the other next to Longevity Hill within the imperial palace. The elephants in the palace stables served during ceremonies and court sessions, while the elephants at Xuanwu Gate rested and underwent training.

Even elephants get tired and need rest, so Wei Cuicheng would rotate the elephants between the two stables every month, giving them turns for a vacation. To avoid drawing crowds and disturbing the elephants crossing the streets, Wei Cuicheng only arranged their transfers during curfew at night when the streets were empty.

Late at night, Wei Cuicheng would first lead a group of over a dozen elephants to “work.” Starting from the stable on the left side of Xuanwu Gate, they passed through the streets within Xuanwu Gate, turned right at the Xidan Archway, entered West Chang’an Avenue, followed the palace walls all the way to Dong’an Gate, and then entered the palace. There, they brought the “off-duty” elephants back, retracing their steps.

The elephants moved slowly like elderly gentlemen taking leisurely steps. Completing the transfer in both directions took at least two hours. Wei Cuicheng followed on horseback, never daring to rush the mighty creatures. The elephants were quite familiar with him and would playfully spray rough breaths at his face with their trunks.

As the air tickled his neck, Wei Cuicheng turned his face away, patting the coarse elephant trunk and soothing it as though calming a child. “Alright, stop being naughty.”

But the elephant couldn’t resist mischief. Its trunk coiled around Wei Cuicheng’s narrow waist and lifted him off his horse, placing him directly on its broad back.

“Oh, you’re so mischievous!” Wei Cuicheng laughed helplessly. It was only when he was with the elephants that he ever smiled.

However, a year later, Lu Shanrou asked Wei Cuicheng, “Between me and the elephants, who do you like more?”

“E—e—el—” Wei Cuicheng stammered for a long while before finally blurting out, “El—elephants—no, no, of course, it’s you.”

But that’s a story for another time. For now, Wei Cuicheng had just finished the elephant shift rotation and returned to the Lu residence on Qianyu Alley in Chengqing Neighborhood to sleep. It was already the middle of the night. From the west wing, Tao Zhu’s snoring could be heard. Truly, one cannot judge by appearances. This young girl had quite a loud snore. Compared to the sound, the chirping of crickets in the night seemed like the faint buzzing of mosquitoes.

What was even stranger to Wei Cuicheng was that the main house was brightly lit, glowing as if it were daytime. At such a late hour, the new landlady, Lu Shanrou, was still awake!

Through the newly applied green shadow window screen, Lu Shanrou’s silhouette can be seen as she leans over her desk and writes. Late into the night, she stayed awake—what was she writing?

Wei Cuicheng was initially curious but then thought to himself, “What does it have to do with me? I’m tired; time to sleep.”

He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. After a long, busy night, it was his day off the next day, and since he didn’t have to report for duty, he slept in until late morning, only getting up when the bright sunlight woke him.

Disliking social gatherings, he spent his rest days at home, sleeping in, reading leisurely books, and going out only when hungry. After eating lunch outside that day, he returned with a large watermelon in hand. Just as he arrived, the main house door opened, and Aunt Wen walked in carrying a basin of washing water, muttering endlessly: “Oh, my dear Miss Er, what time did you stay up until last night? You’re only getting up now…”

“It’s none of my business,” thought Wei Cuicheng as he averted his gaze, walking straight to the east wing. There, he swiftly split the watermelon with a single stroke, its juices spilling out. Its thin rind, few seeds, and sandy, sweet flesh made it his favorite type. Instead of slicing further, he scooped the flesh directly with a copper spoon and began eating. He reclined on a bamboo couch, eating watermelon, shaking his legs, and propping up his feet while flipping through a somewhat worn copy of the Lu Case Records, authored by someone under the pen name “Wutong Jushi” (The Sycamore Tree Scholar).

Apart from this copy of Lu Case Records lying on the couch, his bookshelf was also filled with titles like The Continued Lu Case Records, Further Continued Lu Case Records, and The Bao Case Records. As a military man, he couldn’t bring himself to read the classics of sages and scholars; instead, he preferred these popular storytelling novels, which circulated among common folk but were considered unrefined by the elite.

He particularly enjoyed case-solving novels, burying himself in various legal dramas to escape reality’s mundane worries. Lu Case Records was a sensation in the capital at one time because its protagonist was none other than the former owner of the haunted house, Lu Qingtian. Wutong Jushi had used Lu Qingtian’s life and the cases he solved as the basis for the stories, which all revolved around real incidents.

By leveraging the intrigue of true crime cases and the notorious Lu family massacre, the stories were written in plain, straightforward language, filled with colloquial expressions. They were easy for anyone with basic literacy to understand, and even those who couldn’t read could follow along by listening to someone narrate them.

Even in a large city, common people formed the majority of the population. As such, these stories enjoyed great success among the public. The author, Wutong Jushi, profited handsomely from the books and published two sequels, The Continued Lu Case Records and Further Continued Lu Case Records, both of which also sold well.

Wei Cuicheng had read his copy of Lu Case Records many times. The corners of its pages often curled or folded, and stains of oil, tea, and fruit juice were scattered throughout—clear evidence that he frequently read it while eating. He was so familiar with the story that he could flip to any random page and immediately continue the plot without needing to start from the beginning.

As he read, Wei Cuicheng… fell asleep. It seemed that this series of novels served not only as a mealtime companion but also as an effective aid for sleep. He was awakened by rolling thunder. Looking outside, the sky was dark, signaling a heavy downpour was imminent. Rushing to close the windows, he reached the pane only to be “attacked” by a piece of paper covered in writing—it landed squarely on his face.

Pulling the paper away, Wei Cuicheng peered through the window. In the courtyard, countless sheets of paper swirled wildly in the gale. The air was filled with the earthy scent of impending rain, the fragrance of ink from the papers, and… the startled cries of the new landlady, Lu Shanrou: “Ah! My manuscript!”

Lu Shanrou, dressed in a moon-white gown with her hair slightly disheveled, looked like a ghostly beauty as she chased the flying pages in the courtyard, gathering them to her chest. But the wind was too strong, and there were too many pages—she couldn’t catch them all. Some had even blown onto the roof.

Although Lu Shanrou seemed quite anxious, Wei Cuicheng thought to himself, “This isn’t my concern, is it?” He decided to close the window and pretend he hadn’t seen anything.

However, several pages of manuscript flew into his room through the window, catching his attention. A quick glance at the text revealed that these were drafts of a storytelling novel. They were covered in red ink corrections and frequently mentioned Lu Qingtian. Having read Lu Case Records countless times, he knew the cases by heart, yet the scattered manuscript pages described plotlines he had never encountered before.

Unseen chapters of Lu Case Records, signed by “Wutong Jushi,” and the connection to the elder brother-in-law who hanged himself on the sycamore tree at the Lu residence… Could it be…?

Thunder rumbled louder, turning into explosive claps as lightning streaked across the sky. Rain threatened to pour. Shaking off his thoughts, Wei Cuicheng didn’t even bother to use the door—he leaped through the window straight into the courtyard to help retrieve the scattered pages.

He managed to rescue a dozen or so sheets before raindrops the size of soybeans began to pelt down, smudging the ink into blotches. The rest of the manuscript, even if collected, would be illegible. Clutching their salvaged pages, the two dashed into the main house’s study for cover.

Wei Cuicheng placed the manuscript on the desk and noticed a jade seal resting on it. Under the cover of his sleeve, he quickly picked it up and saw the engraving on its base: four characters, “Wutong Jushi.”

Author’s Note:
Wei Cuicheng: On how the lady whose books I chased after eventually became my wife.