Chapter 58: Ruin

“From that day onward, someone in the household would die every other day. Yet no matter how we investigated, we could find no cause; aside from ghosts, I can think of no other explanation.” Ning Mingfeng’s body trembled as he spoke. “It’s been fifteen days since the first death.”

In other words, if this pattern held, someone in the Ning household would surely die again tonight.

“Did you report this to the authorities?” Ning Xiu asked gravely. By now, he knew that the magistrate’s office did in fact possess means to suppress supernatural beings.

“I went there myself,” Ning Mingfeng replied. “But Chief Jin was away on urgent business and hasn’t been in Shouchun these days. I also brought in other constables to investigate, but they found nothing.”

Ning Xiu nodded slightly, then said, “Leave this to me. I’ll speak to Uncle Zhang and find out more.”

The only person in the household with experience dealing with spirits was Zhang Heng; it was best to question him directly for clarity.

“Do not mention the word ‘ghost’ to anyone else in the household,” Ning Mingfeng called out as Ning Xiu neared the door, his weary voice trailing after him. Ning Xiu paused, then opened the door and left.

He understood well the meaning behind Ning Mingfeng’s last words. With so many deaths in quick succession, fear and panic already gripped everyone. If word spread that ghosts were to blame, terror would only grow, and the family itself might not survive the chaos.

Leaving the study, Ning Xiu returned to his own courtyard. Zhang Heng seemed to have anticipated his arrival and was waiting there.

“What do you think, Uncle Zhang? Is this truly the work of a spirit?” Ning Xiu asked directly.

Zhang Heng looked at him and shook his head gently. “It’s too soon to say. If someone with exceptional martial skills was involved, they could achieve the same effect.”

“If it was a martial arts master, they would need to be highly skilled to enter unnoticed and kill without detection, even deceiving you, Uncle Zhang. Such a person would have to be at least a first-rank master—and one adept at stealth and agility,” Ning Xiu observed, frowning. “But why would they do this? Our family is but a minor one in a small county town. We haven’t made any enemies.”

“Could it be someone you offended in the bamboo grove?” Zhang Heng asked.

Ning Xiu considered, then firmly shook his head in denial.

He had even thought of the Iron Sword Sect, but if this was their doing, there would be no need for such elaborate methods. The bizarre manner of the deaths defied explanation.

“Grandfather said all the deaths happened at night. Uncle Zhang, didn’t you increase patrols after the first incident?” Ning Xiu asked.

“In fact, ever since the first murder, we’ve strengthened the patrols at night. I personally participated for several nights, but found nothing. However…”

Noticing Zhang Heng’s hesitation, Ning Xiu pressed, “However what?”

“On several of those nights, I seemed to hear the sounds of a man and woman together,” Zhang Heng replied uncertainly.

Such strangeness could not be ignored; the sounds Zhang Heng heard must be connected. After all, with so many deaths, who would be in the mood for such activities?

“Tonight, I’ll see for myself who’s playing these tricks,” Ning Xiu said, his voice low and resolute.

Whether man or ghost, the perpetrator’s furtive methods betrayed weakness; if they were truly strong, they would have slaughtered openly. In this household, only Zhang Heng could be considered a true fighter, and if even he gave the ghost pause, what had Ning Xiu to fear?

As night fell, every room in the Ning household was illuminated by lanterns and candles, casting a warm glow across the estate.

Ning Xiu sat atop the highest eave, the perfect vantage from which to observe every movement within the household.

Because of the recent spate of deaths, almost everyone had retreated to their rooms after dark. Apart from servants on duty and the martial artists patrolling, not a soul could be seen in the open.

He watched as the patrolling guards walked their rounds; everything appeared utterly normal. Suddenly, he saw a door open in the main courtyard.

It was Ning Qing who emerged, moving stealthily toward another room.

Ning Xiu hesitated, then decided to follow. Ordinarily, as the filial son, Ning Qing should be kneeling in mourning at the main hall. But for his grandson’s safety, Ning Mingfeng had allowed him to rest in his room instead.

Given the circumstances, Ning Qing had even less reason to be wandering about at such a time.

Ning Xiu moved silently after him.

Ning Qing seemed completely unaware of being followed, and soon entered another room in the courtyard. Ning Xiu recognized it as belonging to one of Ning Zhiyuan’s concubines—strictly speaking, Ning Qing’s own mother.

“What took you so long?” a woman’s playful voice came from inside.

“You know all the trouble lately—the killer could strike at any moment. I risked my life to come here,” Ning Qing replied, his tone frivolous.

“Oh, so you’re safe in your room, but it’s dangerous here with me? I’m not some man-eating monster.”

“You don’t eat people, but you do devour something else…” he laughed lewdly, and her coquettish cries followed.

Standing outside, Ning Xiu looked in, and the scene unfolding within shattered his expectations yet again.

There truly were people so base and lust-driven that not even the threat of death could restrain them. The whole household was shrouded in the shadow of death, yet these two were coupling without a care—one having just lost his father, the other her husband.

Listening to their panting and cries, Ning Xiu frowned. Watching carefully, he detected nothing amiss; both were alive. Remembering what Zhang Heng had said earlier, he realized that the nightly sounds Zhang Heng heard must have come from these two wretches.

While this scene of moral decay played out, elsewhere in the Ning household, in the ancestral hall where Ning Zhiyuan’s spirit tablet was kept, the night wind blew the doors open, making the white mourning banners flutter.

On the altar at the far end, crimson blood began to seep from the spirit tablet, staining the name ‘Ning Zhiyuan’ a deep, ominous red…