Chapter Sixty: Betrayal

Such matters left the county magistrate helpless. Not long ago, both the magistrate and Wang Zhenling narrowly survived assassination attempts. With the recent events in Lili, panic and shock swept through Danling’s city and countryside. Though Lili was a small hamlet, it was under the protection of a village deity. Now, even the deity and all the villagers had been wiped out. The news sent tremors through every township, and the pressure upon the magistrate mounted unbearably.

After Wang Zhenling was harshly rebuked, fury seized him; he led a group of subordinates into the countryside, vowing to unearth the culprit behind Lili’s tragedy. Yet, upon surveying the scene, Wang Zhenling turned and accused the City God instead. His investigation revealed that Lili’s calamity had been wrought by criminal ghosts breaking through. The evidence was overwhelming; the blame fell squarely upon those vengeful spirits, leaving no room for denial.

The City God was ignorant of the precise events, disturbed only by the sudden disappearance of his ghostly officials. The abrupt shift in circumstances left him flustered and unprepared. Before he could devise a response, news reached the county court, and the magistrate’s wrath was redirected—not toward Wang Zhenling, but toward the City God himself.

Without delay, the magistrate penned a judgment and had it burned within the City God’s temple. “This City God dared to release criminal ghosts—an offense of the highest order… He has broken heavenly law and national order!” Within the City God’s domain, dark clouds gathered, and bolts of fiery thunder like whips lashed out, striking the deity again and again. The City God shrieked in agony; his divine pool manifested in surging waves, seeking to repel the fire and thunder. Yet with each strike, the waves diminished, the pool shrank.

When the judgment was fully burned, the black clouds finally dispersed. The City God’s pool was halved; he lay slumped, his eyes ablaze with venomous resentment. He hated the magistrate for his mercilessness, loathed the oppression of earthly officials, and cursed Chen Bushi for opposing him. But above all, his hatred focused upon Wang Zhenling.

“Such upstarts dare to challenge me!” If not for the powerful support behind Wang Zhenling—the scion of the Chen family—this City God could have crushed him with little effort. Now, his hatred toward Wang Zhenling grew ever deeper. Ghosts and gods, after all, possess powers far beyond mortal flesh; his wounds quickly healed beneath a surge of divine light. Though his aura was weakened, he rose again, murderous gleam in his eyes. He had settled this account squarely upon Wang Zhenling.

The other figures—the magistrate, or Chen Bushi, the county captain—were beyond his reach. In the underworld’s grand hall, the ghost officials trembled, having witnessed their deity’s punishment. Their fear of earthly authority deepened, and now they dreaded the City God’s wrath might fall upon them.

Suddenly, the City God spoke: “Is the Wang family’s ancestral tomb under the jurisdiction of the City God’s office?” His most trusted ghost official had already been destroyed, so another answered, trembling, “No, the Wang clan’s ancestral burial ground lies more than twenty miles outside the city, near Guangyang Township.”

Not being within the city, it fell outside his domain, frustrating the City God’s scheme. He cursed, “Useless!” The ghost official’s heart skipped, but he quickly devised a plan: “Divine Lord, though the Wang clan’s tomb is not in the city, you are the greatest deity of Danling. If you send a messenger to their ancestral tomb and make your intentions clear, the Wang clan will surely know what they must do.”

The City God’s anger turned to delight. “Excellent, excellent. I’ll leave this matter to you.” The chief ghost official accepted the task and departed. The City God grinned cruelly, thinking, “Wang Zhenling, no matter how powerful you are, your ancestors’ spirits remain within my divine order. I refuse to believe you will not submit!” Unable to confront Chen Bushi directly, the City God vented all his malice upon Wang Zhenling. One must always choose the softest targets.

The chief ghost official set out before dawn, riding swiftly toward the outskirts.

Their carriage sped through the night, swift as a shadow, arriving at the foothills of a village built against the mountain. This was less a hamlet than a fortress, home to several thousand households bound by kinship. From afar, it was unremarkable; up close, the entire fortress shimmered with a faint glow. This was the Wang clan’s ancestral tomb of Danling.

Ordinary city folk, after death, had their souls governed by the City God; those in the countryside belonged to the village deities. Only great clans like the Wangs, numerous and blessed with abundant incense offerings, could sustain their lineage in the underworld without dependence upon other gods.

The chief ghost official had not yet approached when a fierce voice barked, “Halt! Who are you, and what business have you with the Wang clan?” Several fierce ghosts, clad in leather armor and armed with bows, appeared, arrows drawn, ready to shoot at the slightest provocation.

“Bold fools! This is the City God’s carriage, sent by divine command to conduct business with the Wang clan!” the chief ghost official declared arrogantly. He produced a document written by the City God himself, handing it over with a cold sneer. “Present this to your master, and tell him to take heed!”

With that, the City God’s ghostly driver turned the horses and departed. The Wang clan’s ghosts were furious at such treatment, but dared not retaliate against the City God’s servants. They returned to the manor to report to the clan patriarch.

Ordinarily, even ghosts blessed by incense and virtue rarely endure beyond three to five centuries. The patriarch of the Wang clan in Danling was now a two-hundred-year-old ghost. Upon receiving the City God’s letter—laden with implicit threats—he erupted in fury.

“How tyrannical! Our descendants had a dispute with the City God’s officials in the living world, and now he blames us of the underworld? Outrageous! Does he think the Wang clan of Danling is so easily bullied?” The patriarch’s words stirred the elders among the ghosts to anger as well.

The Wang clan, flourishing in Danling for more than ten generations, had gathered thousands of ghostly households in their underworld fortress, able to muster hundreds of ghost soldiers. In the living world, they had a similar population of vigorous men. Such was the foundation of a great local clan—how could they be threatened so easily by a City God?