Chapter 60: Three Thousand Years Old, Boundless Power

“Do you think there’s actually a ghost bride waiting for Chief Shang at his home?”
After a moment’s silence, one of the constables could no longer restrain his curiosity and whispered the question.
Truth be told, everyone was curious about this matter. Once someone broached the topic, the group launched into lively discussion:
“Who knows? Don’t forget, Chief Shang’s place is infamous for being haunted!”
“I heard that anyone who moved into that haunted house either went mad or died. Chief Shang’s been there for a month or two, hasn’t he? Not only is he unharmed, his cultivation soared and he got promoted… Could it be that a ghost bride is secretly aiding him?”
“Nonsense. That haunted house was purified by a sorcerer a couple of years ago; even if there were ghosts, they were sent away. It’s only been left vacant because of its notorious reputation. Besides, what does a ghost bride have to do with cultivation rising? I’ve only heard of ghosts draining human vitality, never of humans absorbing ghostly yin energy. It’s like oxen plowing fields—the fields get richer, not the oxen fatter.”
“I’m not doubting the sorcerer’s abilities, but even now, whenever I pass by that haunted house, I still get chills and goosebumps.”
This remark immediately resonated with everyone; they chimed in with “Me too,” “Same here.”
One constable lowered his voice and feigned mystery: “I’ve heard that in the Sorcerer’s Institute, some officials specifically seek out monster spirits or ghosts as spouses, and they’re always those hundreds or thousands of years old. They say, ‘A great ghost brings gold bricks, a great monster possesses boundless power…’”
Seeing these fellows get more and more carried away, even gossiping about sorcerer officials, Du Feng had to step in.
“Old Chen, where did you pick up such rumors? Aren’t you afraid the sorcerer officials will deal with you if they hear?”
He paused, then said, “Alright, enough gossip. Things aren’t as mysterious as you make them sound.
There’ve been plenty of people in our office who died young and married posthumously, but none ever brought their wives home for a visit.
If you ask me, Chief Lu probably just brought back his ghost bride’s memorial tablet or ashes, lighting incense day and night to keep her spirit alive.
From that alone, you can see Chief Lu’s loyalty and affection. If he’s so good to the dead, he’ll be even better to the living. Just do your job well, and you’ll never be treated poorly!”
Everyone nodded in agreement.
Whether or not they secretly thought Du Feng was currying favor, at least outwardly they all wore looks of approval.
Du Feng went on, “About Chief Lu’s wife, don’t go spreading tales when you get home. If the story gets twisted or misrepresented, we’ll all be implicated!”
At this, the group’s expressions grew serious, and their responses became much more earnest.
Though Du Feng was just a junior constable, many of the senior constables showed him respect.
After all, he was Shang Lu’s confidant, following him loyally even at Shang Lu’s lowest point—a true ‘dragon’s retainer.’
Such a man would not remain a junior for long; it was wise to build goodwill early.

Moreover, unlike Sun Ying, Du Feng did not flaunt his status as Chief Shang’s confidant, nor did he act arrogant. He held his position with dignity.
With Sun Ying as a contrast, Du Feng naturally earned more respect and admiration.
“Chief Lu’s gone, let’s all disperse.”
Having finished his instructions, Du Feng tossed out this final remark and prepared to leave.
Small eyes hidden in the shadow of the wall corner immediately followed, swift as a dart.
But Du Feng had barely taken a few steps before another constable called out to him.
“Old Du, you’re headed the wrong way; the office isn’t in that direction.”
Du Feng lived in the county’s staff dormitory—a crowded, noisy hall shared by dozens—but at least it was free.
“I’ll take a turn before heading back, so no one can gossip.”
On hearing this, the other constables exchanged glances and followed.
“You’re right—we just ate at a banquet. If we head straight back, we might attract trouble. Let’s patrol a bit together.”
Witnessing this, the small eyes weaving through the shadows slowed their pursuit.
The sinister gaze flickered, as if plotting its next move.
In the end, it followed Du Feng and the others, but from a greater distance and at a slower pace.
“Hmm?”
Suddenly, a senior constable spun around and glanced behind them.
“What’s wrong?”
Du Feng noticed and turned to look as well, but saw nothing.
The senior constable peered for a moment, then shook his head.
“Felt like someone was watching us—maybe it was just my imagination.”
Another constable in the group joked, “Old Liu, did Chief Shang’s story spook you into seeing ghosts?”
“Nonsense, I’m not scared. There’s nothing I haven’t seen.”

Constable Liu glared at his colleague and boasted, “Back in the day, I assisted the sorcerer and handled several cases of monsters and ghosts causing trouble.”
He then began to brag about his past feats…
While Du Feng and his companions patrolled the streets, Shang Lu had returned home.
Pushing open the gate, he called out with his usual smile, “I’m back.”
Lanterns instantly lit up in the pitch-black courtyard, their gentle glow dispelling the darkness and softly bathing Shang Lu, as if tender hands were brushing away dust and fatigue.
“San-niang, today I performed a public demonstration at the office and got promoted to chief constable!
Just wait—one day I’ll pass the Sorcerer’s Institute exam, become an official, and earn honors and titles for you.”
San-niang, dressed in bridal red, appeared in the courtyard. She said nothing, simply listening quietly to Shang Lu’s words.
Though her face was hidden behind the red veil, Shang Lu knew she was smiling—warmly, joyfully.
He entered the main hall and set the food box on the table.
“I treated my colleagues to a meal at the restaurant today, and this dish was especially good. I packed a serving for you.”
Shang Lu wasn’t sure if San-niang could eat living food, but whenever he tasted something delicious, he longed to share it with her.
He reasoned that during ancestral rites, offerings of wine and food were always made.
If ancestors couldn’t partake, why bother? Wouldn’t that offend them?
To ensure San-niang could enjoy the dish, Shang Lu followed the ancestral ritual: after opening the food box, he lit incense and candles, performing the ceremony.
San-niang watched quietly by his side; though her face was masked by the veil, he could sense her smile.
Perhaps she was delighted by Shang Lu’s gesture, or amused by his childlike sincerity.
After finishing the ritual, Shang Lu turned to her with hopeful eyes.
“San-niang, see if you can eat it. If you can, I’ll bring you more delicious food from now on.”