Inside the large guest room, after confirming the mysterious name, everyone looked at each other, wondering who the unwanted guests were in the newly built inn. Lady Jiang broke the silence, her voice hesitant, a tremor of fear. "Hunters, do you think this uninvited guest is great-great-uncle Jingsheng? Is he haunting my inn?"
Guozhao Zhiqiang responded, his voice calm and authoritative, his gaze steady. "There are only three kinds of souls that refuse to move forward. One is hatred, waiting for revenge. The second is unwillingness to let go of the best or most hurtful memories and stay forever to relive those moments. The third is that they are deliberately kept there with a spell."
"The spirit in the inn is not necessarily Jiang Jingsheng," Yu Lei added, his brow furrowed in thought. "Unless Jiang Jingsheng died there."
"Great-uncle Jingsheng didn't die there," Great-Grandmother Jiang interjected, her voice firm. "He died in his courtyard that was sealed by great-grandfather. I remember it clearly."
"Then who is haunting my inn?" Lady Jiang asked, a note of desperation in her voice, her eyes wide. "Who is this spirit?"
Guozhao Zhiqiang looked at the Jiang family seated opposite him, his gaze piercing. "The spirit most likely is Yang Yusheng." He sighed, his gaze sweeping over them. "As I said before, there are only three reasons why a soul refuses to move forward. How did Yang Yusheng die? Does anyone know?"
"No one knows," Great-Grandmother Jiang confessed, her voice filled with sorrow. "He just disappeared. One day, the great young musician who touched everyone with his music vanished without a word. Rumor has it that he was ashamed and left Silver Peak for Ocean City. That's what we were told."
Yu Lei turned to Tian Xiang, his expression thoughtful. "If you love someone very much, would you leave without saying a word, Tian Xiang? Especially after planning to escape together?"
Tian Xiang shook his head, his voice firm. "I would at least write him a letter. Unless I hate that person and don't want that person to follow me, or I am forced to leave suddenly. If I am forced to leave suddenly, I will try to contact him later, no matter the cost."
"There was no letter," Great-Grandmother Jiang continued, her voice heavy with the weight of generations of secrets, her eyes distant. "After Yang Yusheng disappeared, great-grandfather decided to let great-uncle Jingsheng get married. Great-uncle Jingsheng refused, so he locked himself in his room and only let Lao Xin come in and out. He was heartbroken." She sighed. "Great-grandmother said that great-uncle Jingsheng's maids reported to her that late at night, the maids would hear great-uncle Jingsheng whimpering, sobbing in his room. Before great-uncle Jingsheng died, some maids gossiped that Lao Xin stayed in great-uncle Jingsheng's room for nearly two hours. After that day, great-uncle Jingsheng's whimpering stopped, and his bedroom door would not be opened to anyone. Four days later, Lao Xin found great-uncle Jingsheng dead in his bed. After great-uncle Jingsheng's funeral, Lao Xin didn't touch his food. Every night, he begged for great-uncle Jingsheng's forgiveness. After ten days of persistence, he finally committed suicide in great-uncle Jingsheng's room. He couldn't live with the guilt."
Tian Xiang sighed sadly, a profound understanding dawning on him. "I believe Jiang Jingsheng died of a broken heart, Great-Grandmother. He died of sorrow." He turned to Great-Grandmother Jiang. "Great-Grandmother Jiang, did your great-grandmother tell you what Lao Xin said to your great-uncle Jingsheng during those two hours?"
Great-Grandmother Jiang shook her head; her voice filled with regret. "No one knows what Lao Xin said to great-uncle Jingsheng. After great-uncle Jingsheng's funeral, Lao Xin died shortly after. Then great-grandfather sealed great-uncle Jingsheng's courtyard. Everyone gossiped that Lao Xin was killed by great-uncle Jingsheng's spirit. There are also rumors that great-grandfather killed Lao Xin because great-grandfather believed that Lao Xin poisoned great-uncle Jingsheng. Nobody knows the truth. It's a mystery."
"Lao Xin would not poison Jiang Jingsheng because he raised Jiang Jingsheng," Yu Lei asserted, his voice firm, his logic clear. "He must have known something and decided to tell Jiang Jingsheng. I don't believe that the late Master Jiang secretly killed Lao Xin. Lao Xin ended his life mainly because of guilt, because of what he told Jiang Jingsheng."
Guozhao Zhiqiang asked, his voice calm, "Do you think we can take a look at the sealed courtyard, Lady Jiang?"
"Go ahead, hunters," Great-Grandmother Jiang conceded, a weary sigh escaping her. "I have already said everything today. The family's secrets are no more. I don't have the key to the lock on great-uncle Jingsheng's room. If you want to see his room, you have to break the lock."
The hunters stood up, bowing respectfully. "Great-Grandmother Jiang, thank you for your honesty."
Lady Jiang led the six hunters towards the back door, her expression solemn. She opened the first door with her key, revealing a small pavilion and a pond, its surface covered with lily pads. "My great-grandmother said her great-great-grandfather often sat here when he was alive. We clean this area frequently." She pointed to another door, a heavy, ancient wooden door. "That is great-great-uncle Jingsheng's courtyard. I don't have the key."
Guozhao Zhiqiang quickly wrote a talisman, sent it towards the door, and commanded, "Open." The chain on the door snapped free from the knockers with a sharp crack, and the door swung open with a creak, revealing a forgotten world.
The six hunters could see that nature had reclaimed the courtyard. Wild yellow tulips mixed with vines and other plants grew everywhere, a riot of green. The ceramic walkway was destroyed, with plants growing through its cracks, reclaiming the stone. Teapots and cups were still on the table in the small pavilion by the pond, covered in a thin layer of dust. Everything remained as it was many generations ago, frozen in time.
The six hunters went to the first, smaller room. Yu Lei pushed open the door and entered, his eyes scanning the interior. They saw a hoop still attached to the roof beam, swinging slightly in the breeze.
"This must be Lao Xin's room," Yu Lei concluded, a somber realization. "Lao Xin died because he committed suicide in his room, not from a ghost. The rumors are false."
They then entered the larger room. It was thick with dust, the air heavy and still. When the six hunters saw the chains on the bed, heavy and rusted, they knew it had to be Jiang Jingsheng's room.
Yu Lei looked at the iron chains on the bed, a sarcastic smile on his face, a bitter amusement. "Jiang Jingsheng locked himself in the room and did not let anyone in or out except Lao Xin," he scoffed. He grabbed a chain and showed it to the other hunters. "What a joke. He was imprisoned." He threw the chain back on the bed with a clatter.
"Look carefully," Guozhao Zhiqiang urged, his voice calm. "Maybe there is something inside that can explain how Jiang Jingsheng died, something more than a broken heart."
The six hunters began to search, their eyes scanning every surface. Lady Jiang stood at the doorway, observing, her face pale. Lee Nianzu brushed dust from a nearby table. He picked up a piece of paper, brittle with age, and read aloud, his voice soft: "'From the moment I saw you, I was destined to chase you.'"
The six hunters quickly turned to face Lee Nianzu, their expressions solemn.
"Senior Brother Nianzu," Lee Nianzu stated, his voice somber, "this must be Master Jiang Jingsheng's last words. What he wrote was, 'From the moment I saw you, I was destined to chase you'. It's a confession of his enduring love."
"I believe with all my heart," Tian Xiang added, his voice firm, "that night, Lao Xin must have said something to Master Jiang Jingsheng to make him write such a thing, something truly devastating."
"It's like saying goodbye to Yang Yusheng," Yu Lei mused, a profound sadness in his voice.
Guozhao Zhiqiang turned to Lady Jiang, his gaze direct. "The unwanted guest inside your inn must be Yang Yusheng. He is waiting for Jiang Jingsheng."
"How can you tell, honored hunter?" Lady Jiang asked, bewildered, seeking clarification.
Lee Nianzu explained, his voice calm and clear. "I've heard the name Jingsheng whispered. Except for the yellow tulip flower bed in the backyard of the inn, the rest of the flower beds have been taken over by nature. The land you built your inn on was once the home of Yang Yusheng, and the tulips are a sign of his presence."
"There is another guest room that is clean and tidy, with fresh yellow tulips, while the other guest rooms are dusty," Guozhao Zhiqiang added. "It means that the guest room was built on Yang Yusheng's old house, and he is still tending to it."
"We heard the guzheng playing during the day," Tian Xiang pointed out. "Except for the young talent Yang Yusheng, who else could play the guzheng with such skill? It must be him."
"We are going back to the inn," Guozhao Zhiqiang declared, his voice firm. "It's time to speak to the spirit."
"What exactly are you looking for, hunters?" Lady Jiang inquired, her eyes wide with curiosity.
Lee Nianzu smiled, his voice calm. "We have already heard your side of the story, Lady Jiang, and now we want to hear the spirit's side of the story. There are always two sides to a tale."
"Can I participate in your exorcism?" Lady Jiang asked, her eyes wide with curiosity, a hint of excitement.
"We would prefer if you don't participate, Lady Jiang," Lee Nianzu replied gently, his voice firm. "It could be dangerous."
"Why?" Lady Jiang pressed. "I also want to hear the story of great-great-uncle Jingsheng from Yang Yusheng's spirit. I want to know the truth."
"Lady Jiang," Lee Nianzu cautioned, his voice serious, "sometimes, some stories may not be as pleasing as we think. The truth can be painful."
"I want to know what happened to my great-great-uncle Jingsheng and Yang Yusheng," Lady Jiang insisted, her determination unwavering. "I need to know."
"In that case," Tian Xiang stated firmly, "you have to listen to our every word. No interruptions, no sudden movements. Your safety depends on it."
Lady Jiang nodded her agreement, her face pale but resolute. The four hunters and Lady Jiang began walking towards the door.
Guozhao Zhiqiang turned around and saw Deming still standing inside the room, a contemplative expression on his face, his gaze distant. He approached Deming. "Let's go," he said softly, his voice gentle.
Deming wrapped his arms around Guozhao Zhiqiang's waist, hugging him tightly, burying his face in Guozhao Zhiqiang's chest. "Zhiqiang," he whispered, his voice soft, filled with a profound sadness, "I want to take my last breath in your embrace."
Guozhao Zhiqiang kissed Deming's forehead, a gentle smile on his face, holding him closer. "Mm," he hummed, holding him close, a silent promise of protection.