PCA Chapter 91

If one person claimed to have seen a ghostly shadow, it could be dismissed as a trick of the eye or exaggeration. But with two people reporting sightings, there must indeed be something to it.

 

Su Cen asked, “Where did you see this ghostly shadow?”

 

“It was by the master’s window,” the young maid insisted. “We live in the opposite wing facing the master’s room. Yesterday when I got up at night, as soon as I opened the door, I saw a faint light in the master’s room. It looked like there was a figure standing by the window watching me. At first, I thought the master had returned. But then I noticed that the back courtyard gate was still locked, and no one had touched it. I was so scared I quickly dove back under the covers and didn’t dare move all night.”

 

“You’re wrong,” the young manservant interrupted. “That ghostly shadow was clearly sitting at the master’s desk. That night, the first madam asked me to bring the master some sweet soup. I didn’t expect the master had already gone to bed. When I pushed open the door, I came face to face with that ghostly shadow. I was so frightened I dropped and broke the bowl.”

 

After these words, everyone fell silent. Their faces turned pale, and some of the more timid ones even started trembling. It seemed that this ghostly shadow not only could move but also lingered in the Xu household after killing Xu Youhuai, refusing to leave. The next victim could be anyone.

 

Su Cen frowned and asked the young manservant, “You saw the ghostly shadow face to face. What did it look like?”

 

The manservant glanced nervously at Su Cen, furrowing his brow in thought for a long while before saying, “It was similar to what Xiao Juan described, a sickly green color, hunched over the master’s desk. I didn’t dare look too closely. I just screamed and ran out.”

 

“And then what happened?” Su Cen asked.

 

“Then…” the manservant thought for a moment. “Then the master woke up. After he lit the lamp, the ghostly shadow disappeared.”

 

“Your master didn’t know about this?”

 

“I told the master right away,” the manservant frowned in confusion. “But the master said I was making up ghost stories. He scolded me and told me not to tell anyone else.”

 

The manservant sighed and shook his head, “I never expected the master would be killed by that ghostly shadow so soon.”

 

Su Cen stood up and organized the clues in his mind. So, Xu Youhuai knew there was a ghost in his house but instructed the servant not to tell anyone. What kind of logic was that? Could it be that he was secretly keeping a ghost concubine behind everyone’s back?

 

The bailiff stepped forward and asked, “My lord, what should we do now?”

 

Su Cen gazed thoughtfully in the direction of the back courtyard for a moment, then said, “Wait until nightfall. I want to see what this ghost looks like.”

 

Su Cen sat in the main hall facing Xu Youhuai’s half-prepared mourning altar, waiting for darkness to fall. Xu Youhuai’s two concubines and the servants exchanged glances for a while. Finally, the little maid who had spoken to Su Cen earlier timidly approached and asked, “My lord, what about us?”

 

“Hmm?” Su Cen snapped out of his thoughts about the case and said, “You all just do what you normally do.”

 

The group looked at each other. They dared not disobey the lord’s orders. So, someone – it wasn’t clear who – took the lead and fell to their knees with a thud: “Master, your death was so tragic…”

 

The others quickly followed suit, facing the mourning altar and beginning to wail loudly.

 

Su Cen, sitting at the mourning altar: “…”

 

Su Cen was impressed by their ability to wail so dramatically to heaven and earth without shedding a single tear. He also felt that they could probably put on the same performance if it were his body in the empty coffin.

 

Su Cen reluctantly got up, deciding not to interfere with their “proper business” any longer.

 

After taking a few steps, Su Cen remembered something and turned back to ask, “Did your master eat garlic before the incident?”

 

The servants were puzzled by the question. A few kitchen maids looked at each other and silently shook their heads.

 

Leaving the Xu residence, Su Cen remembered that the Western Market wasn’t far from here. He sent the bailiffs away and decided to stroll alone to Xu Youhuai’s antique shop.

 

The Western Market was different from the Easternt Market. Because it was surrounded by common merchants and had fewer regulations than the Eastern Market, there were many small vendors selling daily necessities like oil, salt, sauce, and vinegar. Also, being close to the Golden Gate in the west of the city, many foreign and Hu merchants entered through this gate, so the Western Market also had some exotic curiosities. As a poem says, “Young nobles from the five tombs head east to the gold market, laughing as they enter the wine shops of Hu girls” – describing the scenery of the Western Market.

 

Xu Youhuai’s Cuiji Pavilion was hidden among these shops. To its left was a cosmetics shop, crowded with people chattering about the newly popular “yipin hong” rouge among noble ladies. To its right was a teahouse where an old storyteller was reciting a fresh tale about the divine fire at the heaven worship ceremony, something about the Fire God Zhurong descending to punish those who went against the natural order and monopolized power. Su Cen sighed, wondering how everything seemed to be linked to that person.

 

Amidst all this, the Cuiji Pavilion seemed oddly out of place. While its neighbors were bustling with activity, this shop stood quiet and empty.

 

Perhaps it was meant to create a peaceful atmosphere amidst the bustle, but it had failed to achieve either peace or bustle.

 

What surprised Su Cen even more was that although Xu Youhuai had died yesterday, the shop was still open today.

 

Su Cen casually entered the shop. The shop assistant, apparently used to the store’s lack of customers, barely lifted his eyelids and muttered “Feel free to look around, sir” before ignoring him again.

 

Su Cen glanced around at the items in the store. Indeed, as the scribe had said, most of the items displayed were of little value. Even Su Cen could tell at a glance which were genuine and which were fake. Xu Youhuai couldn’t have supported his large household with just these items.

 

Su Cen walked straight to the counter and tapped on it, asking, “Where’s your shopkeeper?”

 

“Dead,” the assistant looked up, seeing that Su Cen didn’t seem interested in buying anything, and said directly, “The one who burned to death yesterday was our shopkeeper. If you want to return or exchange something, I can’t make that decision, and there’s no one who can now. You’ll just have to accept the loss.”

 

The assistant, clearly aware of the shop’s reputation, had a nonchalant expression. Su Cen couldn’t help but smile at his attitude. “Your shopkeeper is dead, so why are you still here? Who’s paying you?”

 

The assistant kept his head down, his abacus clicking rapidly. “The shopkeeper may be gone, but the owner is still around. But don’t think about returning anything. Our owner only comes once every year or so. You won’t be able to see him.”

 

“Owner?” Su Cen raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t this shop Xu Youhuai’s?”

 

“It is,” the assistant replied without hesitation, but then added, “But there are two owners above him. We just don’t see them usually.”

 

Su Cen asked, “Who are these two owners? What do they look like?”

 

“Wait, did you buy something ruinously expensive from our shop?” The assistant finally looked up and properly examined Su Cen. “You don’t look familiar… I don’t remember you buying anything here…”

 

Su Cen, tired of beating around the bush, took out his official badge and waved it in front of the assistant. “The Dali Temple is investigating. Answer my questions directly.”

 

The assistant was stunned and immediately stood up, bowing repeatedly to Su Cen. “Oh, so you’re an official. I was just talking nonsense earlier, please don’t take it seriously. It’s not like we have people returning goods every day. Everything we sell is genuine and fairly priced…”

 

Su Cen: “The owners.”

 

“Oh, the owners,” the assistant continued fawningly. “Well, I’ve never seen them either.”

 

“…” Su Cen suppressed his frustration. “Do you know the punishment for deceiving a government official?”

 

“My lord, my lord…” The assistant hurriedly came out from behind the counter and fell to his knees, looking like he was about to grab Su Cen’s legs. Su Cen quickly stepped back, and the assistant grasped at empty air. He hastily said, “Every word I’ve said is true. There really are two owners above, but whenever they come, the shopkeeper sends us away. I really haven’t seen what these owners look like.”

 

Seeing that the assistant didn’t seem to be lying, Su Cen could only wave his hand for him to stand up. He then instructed the assistant to report to the Dali Temple immediately if these two owners ever came to the shop again.

 

A shop with nothing of real value, yet with two mysterious owners – Su Cen couldn’t help but wonder if these two owners were associated with the Cuiji Pavilion or with the small warehouse in Xu Youhuai’s home.

 

As this matter concluded, Su Cen heard a commotion outside. It seemed some kind of dispute had broken out, with many voices suddenly filling the air.

 

Su Cen went to the door to take a look. Indeed, a crowd had gathered outside. In the middle, someone who looked like a servant was holding onto the sleeve of a woman, refusing to let go and arguing vehemently about something.

 

Behind the servant was a young man, wrapped tightly in a snow-white fur coat. His face was somewhat pale, but his features were quite delicate, rivaling even that of Qu Ling’er.

 

The young man extended a jade-like hand from his fur coat and tugged at the servant’s arm, frowning as he advised, “Danqing, let it go.”

 

“How can I let it go?!” The servant called Danqing looked like he was about to cry from frustration. “This is what the young master worked so hard to paint. How can we just let it go?!”

 

The woman whose sleeve Danqing was holding also looked exasperated. “If it’s just a painting and not something particularly valuable, can’t your young master just paint another one?”

 

“What do you mean it’s not valuable? My young master spent an entire month on this painting, staying up countless nights, and nearly caught a cold,” Danqing held onto her sleeve tightly, refusing to let go. “I don’t care, you have to compensate my young master for the painting!”

 

“Compensate? How am I supposed to compensate? Should I paint you another one?” The woman yanked her sleeve forcefully. “I think you’re just trying to scam people, deliberately bumping into me with a worthless painting. I haven’t even asked you to compensate me for my rouge!”

 

Su Cen glanced at the painting scroll in Danqing’s other hand. Indeed, there was a spot different from the ink color, with an unexpected bright red stain.

 

Su Cen wasn’t one to meddle in others’ affairs. Seeing that it was getting late, he was about to skirt around the crowd and return to the Xu residence. He had only taken two steps when he heard the young man speak: “Indeed, it’s not something valuable. We’ve offended the lady, and we apologize. Danqing, let’s go.”

 

His voice was cool and clear, matching his appearance perfectly. There was no trace of resentment in his words; it sounded like a sincere apology.

 

Danqing reluctantly let go. The woman flicked her sleeve and left with her head held high. The onlookers, seeing that the excitement was over, began to disperse.

 

The young man reached to take the painting from Danqing. “Throw it away.”

 

“Young master…” Danqing furrowed his brows and whined, holding the painting tightly to his chest, unwilling to actually discard it.

 

The young man sighed to himself, “What’s the use of keeping a useless thing?”

 

Su Cen paused, his heart stirring slightly. To others, it might just be a painting, but only the person who painted it truly knows how much effort was poured into it. Though the young man spoke of throwing it away, he was likely conflicted inside.

 

But a stained painting is still stained. The artist, more than anyone, can’t bear to see even the slightest flaw in their work. If it were him, he would probably discard the painting too.

 

He couldn’t help but think of his own ink bamboo painting from before. If someone hadn’t bought it later, he probably would have preferred to tear it up rather than sell it to the person who offered ten taels of silver.

 

Su Cen turned back and said to the servant, “Let me take a look at the painting.”

 

Danqing was startled and looked to his young master for approval. The young man also looked up at Su Cen, and after a moment, gave a slight nod.

 

The painting wasn’t mounted yet, just a thin sheet of paper. Su Cen carefully unrolled it, shielding it from the wind. When he saw the painting, he was surprised: “The ‘Sparse Lotus and Sandpiper’ painting? You painted this?”

 

The painting depicted a single withered lotus leaf with a half-opened seedpod, and a sandpiper perched on a branch, gazing up at a small insect. The brushwork was exquisite, with every vein and spot on the withered lotus leaf meticulously rendered. If Su Cen remembered correctly, this was exactly like the “Sparse Lotus and Sandpiper” by Ma Gong, the master of fine brushwork from the previous dynasty.

 

However, now there was a rouge stain on the paper, which clashed with the original elegant style of the painting.

 

The young man cupped his hands towards Su Cen and said, “My humble skills are inadequate, and the painting is unworthy of your gaze. I apologize for offending your eyes.”

 

“That’s not what I meant,” Su Cen shook his head. “If this painting weren’t unmounted, I would have mistaken it for the original.”

 

“No, I left a mark,” the young man stepped forward and pointed to a spot beneath the withered lotus branch. “I was afraid someone might use it for forgery, so I left a trace here.”

 

Su Cen looked closely and saw the characters “Yu Gui” faintly visible among the texturing.

 

Danqing raised his chin proudly. “My young master is incredibly talented. Many people come to request paintings from him. If it weren’t for my young master’s poor health, he might have become the greatest painter of our time!”

 

“Danqing,” the young man frowned and rebuked him softly. He turned back to Su Cen with an embarrassed smile. “I’ve made you laugh. I’m only skilled at copying. Some people ask me to reproduce paintings of past masters. I’m also worried that some might use them for improper purposes, so I leave this mark on every painting.”

 

“Yu Gui?” Su Cen asked.

 

“My surname is Li, Li Yunxi. Yu Gui is my courtesy name.”

 

“Su Cen, courtesy name Zi Xu,” Su Cen returned the greeting and rolled up the painting to hand it back. “What was this painting originally intended for?”

 

Li Yunxi pointed to a shop down the street. “It was commissioned by that painting shop. I was planning to deliver it today, but now it seems it will be delayed for a few days.”

 

“Even if you send it to the painting shop, they’re going to sell it,” Su Cen smiled. “Why don’t you sell this painting to me instead?”

 

“You want this painting?” Li Yunxi looked up in surprise, then his eyes showed a hint of disappointment. “But it’s stained.”

 

“I don’t want this ‘Sparse Lotus and Sandpiper,'” Su Cen shook his head, looking at him. “What I want is your ‘Sparse Lotus and Sandpiper.’ This painting is full of someone else’s work. I want to see your painting. The rouge stain is in just the right place. I’d like you to use it as an opportunity to paint a lotus flower for me on the side. Can you do that?”

 

“A lotus flower?” Li Yunxi tilted his head, looking at Su Cen with a slightly furrowed brow, still seeming doubtful. “But this depicts autumn’s withered lotus. Where would a lotus flower come from?”

 

“Ma Gong indeed painted withered lotus, but this is your painting. If you say it’s autumn, then it’s autumn. If you say it’s summer, then it’s summer. I said I want your painting. You don’t need to be confined by someone else’s work.”

 

Li Yunxi bit his lip, pondering for a moment, then his face lit up. He smiled at Su Cen and rolled up the painting, handing it to Danqing to keep it safe. “You’re right. It’s my painting, so I’ll decide what to do with it. I’ll send it to you when I’ve finished painting.”

 

“I said I’m buying your painting,” Su Cen emphasized the word “buying” and took out a silver ingot, placing it in Li Yunxi’s hand. “Consider this a deposit. I’ll pay the balance when I receive the painting.”

 

“That’s not necessary…” Li Yunxi’s delicate fingertips, holding the silver ingot, had turned red from the cold. However, Su Cen refused to take it back. Helpless and slightly blushing, Li Yunxi said softly, “It’s too much anyway.”

 

“You shouldn’t lack confidence in your own painting.” Su Cen left his address, asking Li Yunxi to send the painting there when it was finished. Then he bid farewell and turned to leave towards the Xu residence.

 

Li Yunxi slowly withdrew his gaze only after watching Su Cen’s silhouette disappear into the deepening twilight. Having stood for so long, his body had grown cold, and he lowered his head, coughing.

 

“It’s getting chilly, young master. Let’s go back,” Danqing hurriedly helped Li Yunxi pat his back gently, waiting for the coughing fit to subside.

 

Li Yunxi glanced once more in the direction Su Cen had gone, sighing lightly, “Heaven’s favored child.” A trace of envy flickered in his eyes.

 

Finally, he pulled his cloak tighter and set off, not towards home, but to the painting shop at the corner of the street.

 

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