“If she’s a monster, then something—or someone—created her.” I fixed the man with a cold look. “And now it’s my job to undo the damage.”
He shook his head. “If you insist on visiting that hellish place, the mansion is just north of here, up this street and past a few turns. You’ll see it once you pass that tower.”
With that, he hurried on.
“This spirit sounds incredibly dangerous,” Ren said, turning to face me on the now empty street. “Do you still want to visit the mansion?”
I eyed him. “Do you still want to live?”
“Oh, I suppose.”
I perceived his flippancy as an attempt to lighten the situation. But I couldn’t hide behind humor as he did. I preferred tackling an issue with facts and preparation.
The facts I had: Jing Mansion was haunted by a woman who’d had no qualms about killing an entire household, even one she’d married into. That meant there would be no bartering with her spirit.
Yuyan had also been a shamaness; her abilities as an evil spirit would likely differ from Liu Chunhua’s. In what way, I didn’t know.
As for my preparation: I possessed a fresh supply of purification talismans, my peach staff, and a pouch of glutinous rice grains I’d purchased from a passing village. I tucked the talismans and rice into my pockets for easier access, reciting the incantations in my head.
Though I’d never admit it aloud, I was afraid. Having faced Liu Chunhua, I’d learned that evil spirits were unpredictable, too human. They existed as the literal remnants of lasting mortal hate. They couldn’t be taken lightly.
However, greater than my fear of evil was my fear of failing Baba. Dying was an everyday gamble in life; causing another’s death was something that would haunt me for much longer. I couldn’t fail him, and to ensure that, I had to help Ren.
Even if that meant walking into certain danger.
On our way to the mansion, we purchased a second lantern, extra candles, and matches. Light seemed to be the town’s main defense, and it was best to be ready for anything.
Outside the general store, I paused to light one of our lanterns and say, “Let’s discuss our plan before we head to the mansion.”
“Am I to be bait again?” Ren sounded playful, but I detected a barely concealed layer of anxiety.
“No,” I said, having learned my lesson. “There’s no guarantee which of us would run into the spirit first.”
He nodded. “Perhaps we should use stealth this time—sneak into the mansion and find the spirit before it finds us.”
I shook my head. “That might work if we knew the layout of the mansion, but we don’t.”
“Then what if we split up and place talismans around the mansion as quickly as possible?” he suggested. “Surely one of the objects we come across is anchored to the spirit, like Chunhua’s tree.”
“That won’t work either,” I argued. “You can’t purify spirits. You don’t have the training.”
“Can’t you teach me the incantations? I have a pretty good memory. I memorized the military marching chants in hours.”
I made an irritated sound. “You really think I just memorized some incantations to become a ganshi priestess? It’s more complex than that. Our spells involve spiritual attunement, knowledge of qi and how it bends and flows, and mental fortitude. Those are things only years of practice can achieve.”
He frowned. “Then what do you suggest we do?”
“I’ll give you some purification talismans, like you said,” I replied, “but we can’t split up. I think the best we can do is search the mansion quietly until we locate the spirit and the object she’s anchored to. Should the situation escalate, whichever one of us is closer will place the talisman on the object, and I’ll complete the purification ceremony.”
Ren looked as if he had some concerns, but he seemed to read the determination on my face and kept his doubts to himself.
“Fine,” he said. “We’ll try it your way.”
I nodded and gave him some talismans to tuck into his pockets. Then we headed toward the mansion.
As the man had said, Jing Mansion was quickly visible, looming over the low tiled rooftops of Guangli like a dark crown. From afar, I could make out red-trimmed gables and square parapets wrapped around each tower. The corners of the eaves curved upward like arms outstretched toward the heavens, contradicting the cursed state of the residence.
A grand gate and tall stone walls stood in our way as we approached the estate. Splattered across them in a messy, desperate collage were paper talismans for sealing and protection. Even the two stone lions guarding the doors were bandaged by yellow slips. The brown ink was faded, the edges frayed. The work of the townsfolk, I guessed. Or the exorcists who’d stood outside these same walls before finding themselves trapped within.
