Chapter 2: The Abandoned Temple and the Haunted House

If someone were to follow Shang Lu into the small courtyard, they would surely be astonished.

Because this place was nothing at all like an abandoned haunted house left to decay for years.

The weeds had been cleared away to perfection, and the buildings were immaculately repaired. The usual hallmarks of a haunted mansion—spider webs, thick dust, snakes, rats, mosquitoes—were utterly absent. Instead, the air carried a faint fragrance, reminiscent of the incense found in temples, soothing the mind and calming the spirit.

All of this was clearly the result of the owner’s diligent effort, a testament to daily, meticulous care.

The only thing that might hint at anything sinister was the lush growth of the trees in the courtyard. Unaffected by the harsh winter just passed, their dense canopy formed a dome overhead, shrouding the yard in darkness even during the day.

But as Shang Lu pushed open the door and entered, specks of light filtered through the thick leaves, illuminating this hidden world.

Stepping over the threshold and closing the gate behind him, Shang Lu walked toward the center of the courtyard, recounting his day at the magistrate’s office:

“Captain Ma told me to rest at home and not show up for roll call until the performance evaluation. He thinks I’ll be grateful for his gesture, but who doesn’t see through his little schemes…”

His tone was like a husband returning home, chatting casually with his wife about work.

Sunlight flickered on the ground, dancing with the sway of the leaves, gently brushing Shang Lu’s body as if responding to his words.

He stopped at the courtyard’s center. Once, this area was tangled with wild grass; now it was leveled and neatly arranged with stone locks and weighted bars for strength and technique training—a private practice ground.

Shang Lu stretched, unbuckled his waist knife, and set it aside. Then he removed his constable’s uniform and tossed it away.

Curiously, the clothes did not fall to the ground; a gentle breeze carried them all the way to the main house, where they landed on the bed—folded impeccably and free of dust and grime.

Shang Lu smiled toward where the breeze had passed, then gathered his thoughts and began to practice the Five Beasts Vitality Exercise, a technique inherited from his predecessor’s memory.

This method combined breathing and movement, akin to the Five Animals Play, mimicking the tiger, deer, bear, ape, and bird. By learning their unique ways of exerting force, he stirred his inner energy, strengthening muscles, bones, and marrow.

It was said that the practice aligned with the five elements and internal organs, benefiting future cultivation and, when practiced long-term, even prolonging life.

With each breath, Shang Lu spread his legs, rounded his chest and straightened his back, curled his fingers into claws, and moved in a manner reminiscent of a tiger stalking prey.

He had drilled this routine for several days, his movements once stiff, now much more fluid, able to grasp the subtleties of force and energy flow.

After completing the tiger form, he moved straight into the deer, then the bear—cycling through them all, again and again.

He practiced the Five Beasts Vitality Exercise over twenty times before finally stopping, focusing his intent on his lower abdomen, feeling for changes in muscle and bone.

Unfortunately, as with his previous attempts, the transformation was negligible, his strength barely improved.

“Sigh.” Shang Lu let out a disappointed breath.

These days, his progress had stalled no matter how hard he worked.

He had sought advice and was told his previous injuries had severely damaged his internal organs.

Though he had miraculously survived and healed outwardly, the internal damage would take years, perhaps a lifetime, to mend.

All techniques for training muscle, bone, and marrow relied on vital energy as fuel, which was generated and stored by the organs. With them impaired, progress would always be slow.

He had asked around for remedies, but in Luoshui County, there was little to be found. Perhaps the Witch Court in the provincial capital had answers, but that was not a place for a humble constable.

Just as Shang Lu was brooding, a cool sensation crept up his cheeks, gently massaging his temples.

“I’m fine, don’t worry,” he said, smiling and lightly patting his face, suppressing his disappointment so as not to trouble those concerned for him.

After a brief rest, Shang Lu resumed training with the stone locks and weighted bars, honing his strength and technique.

He practiced until hunger gnawed at him, finally stopping.

Even in the cool courtyard, such strenuous exercise left him drenched in sweat.

Turning his head, Shang Lu noticed a large wooden tub had appeared in the yard.

He clearly remembered it hadn’t been there when he returned.

But he was unfazed, approaching calmly and peering in—the tub was filled with water.

A layer of mist hovered over the surface, but the water was not warm; instead, it was chilling to the bone.

“Thank you, always so thoughtful. With a wife like this, what more could a husband ask for?” Shang Lu said with a smile to the courtyard, but did not rush into the tub. Instead, he picked up a clean cloth placed nearby and carefully wiped away his sweat.

He sensed, faintly, a cool little hand helping him wipe the sweat from his back, where he couldn’t reach. The movements were awkward, tinged with shyness.

After sweating thoroughly and drying off, he waited a moment longer before taking a deep breath and plunging into the tub.

Icy cold enveloped him instantly, making him feel as if he might turn to ice.

Yet this chill dispelled the fatigue and soreness from his training, reviving both mind and body.

Shang Lu felt that after such a cold bath, he could easily practice for several more hours—if only he ate first.

Despite shivering, he persevered, adjusting his breathing to match the Five Beasts Vitality Exercise.

He had discovered that combining its breathing technique with cold baths allowed for rapid recovery.

“Grrr…”

After a while, his stomach grumbled quietly, but it did not go unnoticed.

A bowl floated over to the edge of the tub, carrying chopsticks and a lump of sticky, blood-red meat paste.

Though he could not identify the meat, Shang Lu knew it was valuable.

It was thanks to these cold baths and the bloody meat paste that he had recovered from grave injuries—able to walk, jump, and train within just over a month. Otherwise, he’d still be bedridden, unable to care for himself.

But the cold bath was already freezing, and eating a bowl of raw, cold meat paste made him worry his stomach might not handle it.

So after thanking the invisible benefactor, he muttered, “If only I had a hot meal at a time like this…”

Before he finished speaking, several objects appeared atop the cold meat paste in the bowl—radiating heat and flickering with firelight.

Shang Lu looked closer: a pair of candles and three sticks of incense, inserted into the bloody meat.

He was momentarily stunned, then burst out laughing. “Well, for you, this is indeed a hot offering. But since I’m alive now, I can’t eat these things. You should keep them for yourself… Wait, hold on.”

Mid-sentence, Shang Lu’s expression suddenly changed—he sensed a shift within the ruined temple inside his body.

The fog shrouding the idols began to swirl, showing signs of dispersal.

Was it because of the incense and candles?

No, he’d tried burning incense and lighting candles before, but the strange temple had never reacted.

Were these offerings somehow different?

A flash of insight struck him—it seemed possible.

He had returned from the dead, and these offerings were brought forth by Mistress San, who herself had traversed the boundary between life and death.

Could it be that this was why the temple within him responded?

As he pondered, the ruined temple revealed, as the mist receded, a table previously obscured.

Upon it sat an empty, battered incense burner and candle stand.

“Am I meant to place the incense and candles there as an offering to the gods?” Shang Lu suddenly understood.

But the temple existed within his body—how could he deliver the offerings inside?