Chapter 15: Debugging
The prefectural city was a vast place. Though it wasn’t the capital where even a falling brick could strike down a third-rank official, it still housed numerous wealthy gentry and government officials.
Wang Boyuan was a scholar. In a small town like Rouge Town, he was a remarkable talent, but in the prefectural city, he was hardly noticeable.
Yet, he was blessed with good looks, and every gesture of his carried the refined air of a gentleman.
The matchmaker, having spent half her life arranging marriages and scrutinizing countless candidates, was very particular. When she was hired by the Wu family, she approached their home and, upon seeing Wang Boyuan’s appearance, felt the urge to walk around him multiple times, examining him carefully.
Young sir, your parents truly did well by you.
Such a handsome young man, groom material indeed!
The Wu family was wealthy and influential; their daughter was beautiful, and the scholar appeared to be a fine match. Though the Wu daughter was past her prime, the Wang family was impoverished—utterly destitute.
All in all, this marriage was Wang Boyuan’s social climb.
They thought the match was sure to be sealed.
But when the proposal was brought forth, Wang Boyuan declined.
“...I am grateful for the Wu family’s kindness, but my daughter is young, and after losing her mother in infancy, it’s just my wife and me. Our situation is already pitiful enough. If I were to remarry and have another child, whether I wish it or not, my heart would waver, and I would neglect my dear daughter.”
“And I am truly unwilling to do that.”
His heart was so big, yet when divided in half, it lost so much.
The matchmaker was persistent—the dowry from the Wu family was not insignificant.
“What nonsense is this? If the scholar remarries, the young lady wouldn’t lose a father, but gain a mother’s care. Besides, the Wu daughter is kind-hearted, and the Wu patriarch even more so...”
“My mind is made up, Sister Hua. No more persuasion, please,” Wang Boyuan smiled gently, cutting off the conversation.
The matchmaker sensed his firm resolve and knew he spoke sincerely.
“Alas—what a pity, such a pity,” she sighed, falling silent.
In the Wang courtyard stood a loquat tree, well tended, its lush leaves casting mottled shadows on the ground. Before leaving, the matchmaker spotted the child called Achan.
It was the end of summer; the weather was hot, and the cicadas were chirping fiercely. Amid the chorus of cicadas, the little girl slept soundly on a bamboo cot beneath the loquat tree.
As the saying goes, waves follow waves, and the earlier ones perish on the shore.
This father was handsome, so surely the daughter would be even more so!
Looking at the little girl, the matchmaker finally understood why Wang Boyuan refused to remarry.
This child looked so lovable!
Alas!
No matter, if fate does not allow it, there is no use forcing matters.
You can’t make a bull drink water by pressing its head down.
...
The matchmaker reported back to the Wu patriarch, leaving the Wu residence with regret, thinking what a loss this was.
No chance to earn the matchmaking fee!
Yet, fate took a turn. Just days later, she was summoned again by the Wu family to arrange a match between the Wu and Wang families.
The Wu patriarch said the scholar was seriously ill and needed to hold a ritual involving a big rooster to bring good fortune.
The matchmaker was overjoyed. This was destiny, celestial fate! The money was hers to claim—it couldn’t escape her now!
And so, after all the twists and turns, it came back right into her hands.
...
The Wu Mansion’s wedding hall.
The matchmaker stared at the sullen-faced man, wishing she could return to a few days prior, spat on herself, and laughed out loud.
What kind of joyous occasion was this?
Indeed, the money that came too easily was not a windfall but a trap!
“This young man, if you still don’t want to rest, that’s fine! I understand. But as the saying goes, family shame should not be aired publicly. You and Master Wu and Miss Pingting should discuss matters quietly after we leave, alright?” she said, trying to pacify.
“Nonsense!” the sullen-faced man snapped irritably, glaring at the large red flower swaying before him. Beside him, Wu Jiuding frowned but did not panic like the others.
Even Pingting—
Looking at Wu Pingting, the man’s eyes softened with lingering affection, then instantly filled with resentment as they shifted to Wu Jiuding.
No, this wasn’t the effect he wanted.
Beg for mercy.
Beg him fiercely.
“Old witch, get lost!” The man’s face stiffened, his eyes mostly white with few dark pupils, revealing the cruel and cunning nature of a ghost. He turned and spat black mist at the matchmaker, then whipped his sleeve.
In an instant, the matchmaker was rendered speechless.
...
Her eyes widened, body stiff, she tumbled down the steps of the wedding hall.
The next moment, her body felt light, as if someone caught her and gently rolled her toward the hiding place where Wu Fugui and the others were.
“Damn! That ghost killed the matchmaker!” sharp-eyed Zhao Yang exclaimed.
Wu Fugui and the others: ...
Silence! They saw it too! Such a large body falling toward them—of course, they weren’t blind!
From past experience, the more one talks, the faster one dies.
The matchmaker felt like a sack of cloth, or perhaps a butterfly. She closed her eyes, awaiting death.
It was over. This time, truly over.
Then, she suddenly realized she could open her eyes.
And strangely, it didn’t hurt despite the fall.
...
“Ouch! That really hurts!”
By chance, she had landed squarely on Wu Fugui and the others, especially Wu Fugui himself, whose thick skin bore most of her weight.
They rubbed their sore bodies but dared not cry out loudly.
“Auntie, are you alright?” Wang Chan squatted beside her, noticing the black mist on her face.
At this moment, the matchmaker could only blink her eyes—she was clearly in trouble!
Wang Chan: “What should we do about that black stuff?”
Suddenly, her brows twitched as if a scroll of knowledge unfolded before her, revealing the words “ghost saliva.”
“Ghost saliva?”
The name alone was disgusting, Wang Chan frowned.
But since the old woman looked near death, Wang Chan hesitated, not wanting to use her own handkerchief, so she tore off the large red flower handkerchief pinned to the matchmaker’s clothes and carefully peeled the sticky black mist from her face.
The swirling black ghost energy in Wang Chan’s hand, like sunlight and moonlight, transformed into threads. Unlike sunlight’s warmth or moonlight’s chill, this ghost energy was bone-chillingly cold.
“It’s you!” Shi Yinuo pointed at her, eyes wide with fright. “You’re the scholar Wang’s daughter! How are you here?”
“Impossible! You can’t be here!”
Wu Fugui and the others then noticed the little girl squatting by the matchmaker was Wang Chan.
When their boat left, Zhu Fenglian had reminded them to send word to Wang Boyuan, telling him to return to Rouge Town. His daughter was alive and temporarily recuperating at her uncle’s house.
Such a large injury would require at least ten days or more of bed rest. Now, seeing her here in the distant prefectural city, seemingly healed and lively—how could that be?
They had traveled through storms and nights without rest, urging the boatman with lanterns to reach Wu family’s grand banquet on time.
There was no way this girl could have traveled so fast!
Impossible!
“Brother Fugui,” one stammered, turning to Wu Fugui, the more experienced steward, “Could she be dead? Is she a ghost too?”
Meanwhile, Wang Chan looked at the handkerchief covered in ghost energy and tried to squeeze out a tiny bit of sunlight—no more than the size of a mung bean.
In an instant, the sunlight blazed, burning the ghost energy away.
Wang Chan: “Wow—”
Perhaps this was what they called good triumphing over evil.
Hearing the voice, Wang Chan glanced at Shi Yinuo and vaguely recalled the voice.
In the coffin, they had made her laugh, allowing her soul to return.
Wang Chan smiled, “I remember you, hmm...”
She pondered, “You are a lump of poop.”
Then she pointed at another, “You are a thousand jin of poop.”
She voiced a question she had pondered in the coffin, curious, “Are you brothers?”
Shi Yinuo: ...
Shi Qianjin: ...
“Nonsense!” What lump of poop and thousand jin of poop! “I’m Shi Yinuo! I’m Shi Qianjin!”
“No one said we’re brothers!” they said in unison.
They exchanged glances, shared a knowing look, then turned their faces away disdainfully, “Tch, bad luck!”
Wang Chan: ...
They claim not to be brothers, yet speak so in sync!
She looked from Shi Yinuo to Shi Qianjin and lingered her gaze on the latter with some sympathy.
Shi Qianjin, thousand jin of poop... no matter how you hear it, it sounds the same.
...
“That’s not my fault. When I was in the coffin, I really heard Uncle call you that,” Wang Chan pointed at Wu Fugui, passing the blame.
Wu Fugui was glared at by the two.
...
Regarding how she came to Jianxing, Wang Chan was still somewhat confused. Upon reflection, she thought it wasn’t only due to her talent in nurturing stones but also thanks to the white lamb fat jade in her heart.
Yesterday, after learning her cousin had entrusted Wu Fugui and the others to send a message to Wang Boyuan, urging him to return to Rouge Town no matter what, Wang Chan had been preoccupied.
During the day, eating meals, she would chew her food but stop, thinking silently: Where is the boat now? Has Father been found? What did he say? Would he be happy she was alive?
While pushing rice stalks with a rake, she paused, noticing she had raked the character “father” into the ground.
Her hands had to keep moving; she intended to add a character meaning “more” below, so together it would read “dad”!
Staring at the characters, Wang Chan widened her eyes.
At night, looking at the bright moon, the little girl sighed heavily, touched her chest, and blamed the moon for being too round and bright, dazzling enough to make one think of family reunions.
Wang Chan was deeply distressed and could only accept it silently.
She just missed her father—her father who was about to marry again.
That night, restless and frustrated, she slept fitfully.
In a hazy dream, she felt moonlight and starlight pouring down, glowing softly through the wooden window lattice, wrapping around her.
She opened her eyes, sat up, and glanced back to see her own body lying on the bed, surrounded by a faint halo, as if visible yet intangible.
In her palm was the white lamb fat jade, absorbing the halo.
Perhaps after a long moment—or just an instant—the stone, saturated with light, suddenly flew toward her forehead.
The next moment felt like placing the final piece in a jigsaw puzzle.
Wang Chan looked up at the sky, seeing countless stars in endless patterns.
At the celestial barrier, stars formed an array: the sun, moon, and five planets of metal, wood, water, fire, and earth combined into seven luminaries.
The three lights intertwined, with heaven as the dome and earth as the boundary, forming a grand formation shaped like a bell.
It was both protection and confinement, preserving this world.
Outside the formation lurked sinister and malevolent forces.
Wang Chan pondered: with the seven luminaries guarding the world, people would rarely encounter evil spirits.
Only, whether due to time or the grudges of those outside, the bell-shaped formation looked like armor worn from battle, scarred and weathered.
Some parts were damaged, with flickering points of light breaking apart.
One flower, one world; within the stone were myriad realms, all interconnected.
As she shifted her thoughts, the stone realm beneath her feet changed to another piece.
Lost in the star array and her thoughts, Wang Chan stepped forward, the stone realm continually shifting.
After stepping on many stones, she noticed one peculiar piece.
It was not protected by the seven luminaries’ array.
Curious, she stepped onto it and looked up to see the stone steps of the Jianxing Wu family home.
Just then, Hua Jixiang, dressed in auspicious attire, flew out.
Wang Chan’s eyes widened; she reached out to steady her.
Uh... it was somewhat difficult to hold.
Her gaze shifted to Wu Fugui in the corner, who, by exerting himself, had found several cushions of meat for the matchmaker.
Realizing these people were Wu family servants and this place was the Wu Mansion—
Wang Chan tapped the ground a few times.
So, this was where her father was to marry?
But—
“Where’s the groom?”
How could a wedding be without a groom?
Where had her father gone?
Wu Fugui and the others turned their eyes toward the big rooster.
There, inside the chicken coop, many chickens lay sprawled, with three or four more with twisted necks outside.
Wang Chan: ...
She was puzzled.
“What does the big rooster have to do with the groom?”
The next moment, her eyes widened.
Could it be that her father had become a big rooster?
But with so many chickens, which one was her father?
...