Chapter Six: A Windfall from the Sky

"Feng Yuan, are you asleep?"

The gentle voice of a woman echoed once more, but the figure lying on the bed remained unresponsive.

Suddenly, a soft whooshing sound filled the room as a gust of wind blew open the door. It swept inside, sending Feng Yuan’s manuscript pages flying in every direction. Some scattered across the floor, while others landed directly on him.

On the bed, Feng Yuan shivered uncontrollably; the chill from the wind felt as if someone had pressed icy hands against his back in the dead of winter—a jolt that instinctively made him tremble. Though he was asleep, his body responded; he instinctively hugged his pillow tighter, seeking warmth.

At the doorway, the door stood wide open, but there was no one in sight—only the cold wind pouring in. The woman who had called Feng Yuan moments ago was nowhere to be seen.

Just then, the flames of the two candles, one at the head and one at the foot of Feng Yuan’s bed, began to flicker violently, as if they might extinguish at any moment. The red glow gradually transformed into an eerie green, growing ever more vibrant and unsettling. Coupled with their wild flickering, it created a sinister scene that would terrify any ordinary soul.

"Feng Yuan, are you asleep?" The gentle woman’s voice sounded again, but this time it came not from the doorway, but right beside Feng Yuan’s ear.

In his sleep, Feng Yuan vaguely heard it; his closed eyes quivered, but he did not open them. He remained asleep.

At that moment, a hand appeared faintly beside Feng Yuan’s neck, reaching toward him.

Suddenly, the manuscript pages that had landed on Feng Yuan’s body erupted with golden characters, flying straight toward the hand at his neck.

A piercing scream rang out—a woman's shrill cry. The hand instantly smoked, and a gust of wind rushed from the head of the bed toward the door, vanishing with a swift whoosh.

Peace returned to the room.

Feng Yuan opened his eyes—startled awake by the scream. Groggy, he sat up, glanced around, and found the door wide open. Manuscript pages lay scattered everywhere, and a few still rested on him.

"What happened? I remember shutting and locking the door," Feng Yuan muttered, frowning as he recalled the chill he’d felt while sleeping. It seemed the wind had blown the door open; perhaps he had only thought he’d locked it and was mistaken.

Feng Yuan didn’t dwell on it. He was too tired. He gathered the papers from his body and the floor, placed them back on the desk, locked the door again, and returned to bed.

...

When he woke again, it was already seven or eight in the morning. He was roused by loud knocking—someone banging on the door. Reluctantly, Feng Yuan got out of bed, dressed, and went to answer.

"Who is it? So early—don’t you know disturbing someone’s dream is as bad as killing their parents?" he grumbled as he opened the door.

Standing outside was the old doorman from the day before, grinning like a dried corpse, which startled Feng Yuan. "Old mummy—ah, no, sir, I advise you not to smile like that. It’s rather frightening!"

The old man seemed not to hear, his grin growing brighter as his eyes sparkled, examining Feng Yuan up and down. Feng Yuan grew uneasy, quickly crossing his arms over his chest. "Old man, I warn you, I’m straight—don’t get any ideas!"

"Heh heh, lad, don’t be nervous. It’s not what you think. I don’t fancy young men like you," the old man chuckled.

"Oh, come on!" Feng Yuan felt even more uneasy; he could tell the old man was interested in men.

"So, lad, did you sleep peacefully last night? Nothing happened, right?" the old man asked.

"Yes, nothing happened," Feng Yuan replied.

"No strange occurrences? You didn’t go to the backyard, did you?" the old man pressed.

"No, nothing happened. The wind blew the door open in the middle of the night, and I thought I heard a woman scream, but then it was gone," Feng Yuan said.

"A woman's scream?" The old man frowned, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

"But I suppose it was a dream. There’s no way there would be a woman here. If there were, it would be a ghost," Feng Yuan laughed. "If it were a ghost, that would be even better!"

Seeing Feng Yuan’s cheerful demeanor, the old man smiled. "Since you’re fine, I can rest easy. Very well, the house is yours. I’ve guarded it for many years. It’s time for me to retire. From now on, you’ll receive five taels of silver every month."

"What? Say that again? You’re giving me money?" Feng Yuan stared at him in disbelief.

"Yes, lad. This house was never meant to be rented—just to find someone to watch over it. Since you’re unharmed, it’s yours. Every month on the first, someone will bring you your payment. Here’s your first month’s wages; keep it safe."

The old man handed Feng Yuan a silver ingot.

"All right, I’ll be off. Remember what I said—never go to the rear residence!" With that, the old man turned and left.

Feng Yuan stood there, staring at the silver in his hand for a long time before coming to his senses. He hurried out to find the old man, but he was already gone without a trace.

"Good heavens, it’s like a pie falling from the sky. Someone gives me a house and even pays me to live here. Could it be that I’m actually a rich heir, and my parents made me live in the countryside to foster independence? Now that I’m grown, they’re arranging things behind the scenes, letting me gradually experience the good life?"

Feng Yuan mused to himself.

"Feng Yuan! Feng Yuan!"

Just then, the voice of Fatty Zhang called out from afar, interrupting Feng Yuan’s thoughts. He quickly pocketed the silver.

"Are you all right, Feng Yuan? Have you lost your mind?" Fatty Zhang hurried over, grabbing Feng Yuan and inspecting him anxiously.

"I’ve lost my mind! I’m going to eat you, eat you!" Feng Yuan suddenly cried, lunging at Fatty Zhang and scaring him so badly he fell to the ground, pale-faced.

"Hahaha..."

Feng Yuan burst out laughing at Fatty Zhang’s reaction.

"Feng Yuan, you’re too much! Scaring people like that could kill them!" Fatty Zhang protested.

"Heh, you old fatty, come in. I’ll show you something good!" Feng Yuan beckoned, turning toward the house.

Fatty Zhang hurried after him. "What is it? Is it something tasty?"