Chapter 58 Whispering Ghost

The next day, upon waking, sunlight streamed through the window and poured into the room.

Jiang She pushed the door open, and the brilliant daylight rushed in so fiercely that it made one instinctively squint.

Outside, Li Bai and Yuan Danqiu were leisurely executing a set of Daoist sword dances to refresh their minds and wake themselves up. A little kitten tilted its head, watching the sword tassel spin in the air.

Its head bobbed and weaved, swaying from side to side.

Jiang She could not help but chuckle. Folding his arms in his sleeves, he paused to watch for a moment.

The tiny black kitten was still covered in the soft fluff of a newborn, its round eyes wide open as it stared at the back-and-forth swaying of the sword tassel, its head bobbing along.

The two men were also feeling mischievous, deliberately making their movements large and sweeping. Whenever the kitten lunged forward, they would immediately pivot to the other side, keeping the sword tassel swinging without pause.

The kitten pounced into empty air, but it was not annoyed at all.

Jiang She sat down at the table where they had been drinking wine the previous day and resumed reading the *Biographies of Immortals* which he had not finished earlier. He read about Wang Ziqiao riding a white crane and waving his whip against the azure cliffs, a scene that filled one's spirit with refreshing clarity.

It was much like Pang Degong, who retreated into Lumen Mountain and never returned.

Some of these accounts were compiled by the ancients, but others held a grain of truth.

When Yuan Danqiu finished his sword practice and stopped teasing the cat, seeing the kitten trot off to find its master, he sheathed his longsword, placed it back into its case, and cast a glance around.

With a curious expression, he asked, "Has the mountain god left?"

Without looking up, Jiang She replied, "We drank some wine yesterday; she is probably still sleeping."

Even a mountain god could get drunk?

Yuan Danqiu felt even more astonished in his heart. Yesterday, it had seemed as though the mountain god had barely consumed any wine; how could she be so heavily intoxicated?

Feeling perplexed, Yuan Danqiu brought up an interesting sight he had noticed that morning.

"When I came out this early today, I happened to see that property broker, and for some reason, he looked terribly rushed."

Yuan Danqiu pulled over a chair and sat down to chat.

Li Bai, standing nearby, found a tea cup and poured himself a draught of well water. Yuan Danqiu nudged Li Bai to pour him a cup as well, and holding the tea cup, he continued:

"At first, I thought he was hurrying to the tea kiosk to get a bowl of porridge from Qingyuan Temple. But when I called out to him, he ran even faster, looking scared out of his wits."

"When I looked closer, I saw he was walking all hunched over, clutching a pile of copper coins to his chest—at least two or three thousand cash worth."

"Could it be that he closed a huge deal?"

Brokers took a ten percent commission. Two or three thousand cash meant a rental value of twenty to thirty strings of copper coins. Even in Luoyang, such rent was a substantial sum; unless one came from an official family or a family of great wealth, no one could afford it.

As for the poor scholars who made up the majority of Luoyang's population:

Most of them would pool their money with classmates or friends to rent a remote little courtyard, taking up just a single room for no more than six hundred cash a month.

Li Bai remained unconcerned.

"Jixian Ward is adjacent to many academies and houses the Jixian Academy itself. Since it is an official school, there are naturally many sons of wealthy families there, so renting by the year is quite common."

"What's so strange about closing a business deal?"

Although he did not care much for sums of three or five strings of cash, or even thirty to fifty strings, he knew that such amounts sometimes represented a poor person's entire harvest for a year, and treating them with care and caution was only right.

Recalling the broker's hurried appearance, Yuan Danqiu still felt something was amiss.

The last time that fellow Qiu Nei left their place after earning four hundred cash and carrying out a bolt of silk worth five strings, he had walked with his head held high and a beaming expression, not looking nearly this cowering.

The thought turned over in his mind.

Since it was just a casual guess, Yuan Danqiu did not dwell on it himself.

He muttered under his breath, "I hope he hasn't run into evil spirits."

...

Qiu Nei was extremely pleased with himself. Just the day before, he had successfully leased out a property and earned a four-hundred-cash commission.

As he was heading home and passing by a gambling house, Qiu Nei noticed people outside holding a cockfight. The rooster had a bright red comb and tail feathers shimmering with a greenish hue—truly majestic and handsome, unlike anything he had ever seen.

Driven by some inexplicable impulse, he placed a bet of one hundred cash.

He felt a twinge of regret right after placing the wager; one hundred cash was enough to cover his meals at outside eateries and food stalls for two whole days.

Fortunately, that fighting rooster lived up to expectations and won him ninety cash in return.

With others standing nearby looking envious and regretting that they hadn't placed bets alongside him, Qiu Nei felt even more invigorated. Amidst the continuous cheers echoing in his ears, he looked at the imposing rooster and thought about striking while the iron was hot, as such money-making opportunities were rare.

Before he knew it, three hundred cash had turned into five hundred and forty.

This was far better than running all over the east side of Luoyang city in the sweltering summer heat just to show houses to people!

Extremely excited, Qiu Nei immediately threw in all four hundred cash of his original capital along with his winnings.

It was as if the heavens knew he had wagered everything; on the very next round, every single coin was completely wiped out. Qiu Nei's eyes turned bloodshot in an instant.

A total of seven hundred and thirty cash, all lost...

In a split second, the world went dark before his eyes.

Qiu Nei wished he could just drop dead on the spot.

Standing nearby was a dock porter smelling faintly of fishy water—he probably made his living by carrying heavy loads on cargo boats—who was also watching the crowd.

"The rooster on the east side looks formidable! The next round is guaranteed to win!"

With bloodshot eyes, Qiu Nei stared fiercely at that cursed fighting rooster, feeling around his pockets for money.

Two quarters of an hour later, Qiu Nei's pockets were completely empty. Even his outer tunic had been stripped off and pawned, leaving him in nothing more than a short-sleeved undershirt. His limbs went limp, his lips trembled uncontrollably, and his legs were too weak to support him; he had to lean against the wall to keep from sliding to the ground.

Wiping the cold sweat from his face with a cloth rag, with a haggard and ashen complexion, he drifted out the door like a ghost.

He muttered through gnashed teeth:

"That cursed, damned bird has ruined my luck for good!"

Upon returning home, Qiu Nei kept the incident to himself. Seeing his children playing outside by pretending to ride horses with bamboo clothes-drying poles only irritated him further.

When his wife asked about his missing clothes, he simply lied that someone had borrowed them.

Early the next morning, Qiu Nei drew another two hundred cash from the tenants' rent money, planning to replace it once he won the money back, so that he could still deliver the full amount to his landlord.

He needed to make a comeback!

That cursed dock porter was there too; if not for him, Qiu Nei wouldn't have thrown his last fifty-odd cash into the pot yesterday.

Casting an annoyed glance at the man, Qiu Nei suddenly heard a burst of cheers.

Could this scoundrel actually have won?

Staring for a long time, Qiu Nei's expression grew increasingly bizarre. Well, would you look at that—by whatever freak stroke of luck, this dead porter was winning every single match he bet on today, scarcely losing a single one.

In a short span of time, he had already won nearly two strings of cash!

As the dock porter stepped away from the gambling table, Qiu Nei hurried over to catch up with him, offering to treat him to a meal.

He ordered a table full of fine dishes and wine, and then bowed deeply to ask for guidance:

"I caught sight of you yesterday, brother. How is it that today you aren't outside watching the cockfights, but instead came inside to the gaming tables, and seem to have struck such incredible luck, winning every single time?"

The porter was a sturdy fellow, slightly hunchbacked with one shoulder noticeably higher than the other, dressed in coarse hemp garments and straw sandals.

Such a common street ruffian was someone Qiu Nei would normally avoid to avoid getting his clothes dirtied.

The porter had a hearty appetite. After downing two pots of wine and consuming a full four bowls of rice, the tavern owner served a dish, and the porter shoveled it down in no time, clearing the plate in just a few strokes of his chopsticks. It made Qiu Nei's eyelids twitch and his heart ache with regret.

After eating until he was eighty percent full, the porter sized Qiu Nei up and down, looking at him intently.

He picked up his wine bowl.

"You've been straightforward with me, so I'll be straightforward with you as well."

Taking a large gulp of wine that trickled down his chest, the porter reached into his tunic and pulled out a small wooden figurine.

He asked Qiu Nei:

"Have you ever heard of the Ear-Reporting Spirit?"