Chapter Three: The Phantom Doctor Shen Hua

“This rain has lasted a full fourteen days; soon, everything in the fields will be gone.”

A few early risers sat in front of a breakfast stall in the West City, discussing the weather.

“There’s a major incident—haven’t you heard?” one of them whispered.

Those at the neighboring table craned their necks to eavesdrop, prompting someone to ask, “In the city or outside?”

“Outside the East City, something happened two nights ago.”

“Spill it! What exactly happened?”

The man deliberately teased, sipping his soy milk and biting into his fried dough stick before signaling the others to come closer.

“I heard they unearthed a bunch of dead bodies near the imperial tombs.”

“That’s no surprise. Probably just some craftsmen who worked on the tombs long ago.”

“You don’t know a thing. It’s not inside the tombs, but outside. They’re recently deceased, and from what I hear, they’re the kind that disrupt the dragon vein. The bodies are cursed—so eerie that even the Imperial Astronomical Bureau sent people over that night.”

He lowered his head, eyes darting around nervously.

“Better stop talking—officials are coming.”

Street patrols by the Wuzhou Military Command were common; as long as townsfolk kept quiet and didn’t cause trouble, there was no danger. Not like the dreaded Embroidered Uniform Guard, feared by everyone—officials included.

Once the patrol passed, the breakfast eaters resumed their chatter. Shen Hua heard every word clearly and recalled the two men she’d met in the graveyard that night, along with their conversation.

Shen Hua rarely ventured into the city. Recently, she’d been busy gathering evidence about Jiang Guanghe and fulfilling his requests. Now, she just needed to visit the Jiang household to retrieve something, so today she came looking for the hunchback.

She placed her payment on the table and asked casually, “Boss, I’m looking for someone.”

The owner smiled as he pocketed the coin. “Miss, you’ve come to the right place asking about people. I’ve run this breakfast stall for twenty years and there’s no one in the city I don’t know.”

“Jiang Guanghe, from the Jiang family.”

The owner’s smile faded considerably.

Those at the neighboring table all turned their gaze to Shen Hua, scrutinizing this plainly dressed woman, clad head to toe in simple clothes without a single valuable item, carrying a cloth sack at her side and always exuding a faint herbal scent.

One of them spoke up, “Miss, the Jiang family head you’re looking for passed away over ten days ago.”

Shen Hua replied calmly, “I know. I’m looking for his household, not him.”

“Such a pity. Jiang Guanghe was kind-hearted but unfortunate—taken suddenly by illness. Such a large estate left to an outsider.”

Shen Hua’s expression remained indifferent as she looked at them. “He didn’t die of illness; he was murdered.”

Everyone was stunned, even the breakfast stall owner paused his work to look at her.

“Even the Jiang family claims he died of sickness, and the official coroner examined the body. He’s already buried.”

“The one saying he died of illness might be the killer. The coroner could have been bribed. And once buried, the body can always be exhumed for re-examination.”

Her words left everyone speechless. Suddenly, a middle-aged man with a mole on his face stood and asked, “Are you the ghost doctor, Shen Hua?”

“That’s me,” she said coolly.

Some remained seated, puzzled. Those who recognized her stood up, keeping their distance, and one pointed westward. “Go straight down this street, cross two more, then turn right. You’ll find the Jiang family there.”

Shen Hua nodded in thanks and swiftly departed.

Watching her leave, the man who’d recognized her sank back onto the bench with a deep sigh. A curious bystander asked, “What does she do?”

“She runs a clinic in the ghost market, but unlike other doctors, she treats living people by day and spirits by night. That’s why the ghost market folks call her the ghost doctor. Most importantly, she sees things ordinary people can’t and talks to those things.”

“To whom does she speak?”

The mole-faced man whispered, “Ghosts.”

“Such a person really exists?”

The mole-faced man clicked his tongue. “I’ve seen her abilities with my own eyes.”

“Tell us more.”

Several breakfast patrons gathered around, eager for the tale.

Clearing his throat, the mole-faced man began, “About half a year ago, my child had a persistent high fever. Doctors and medicines didn’t help for two weeks. Someone then said there’s a doctor named Shen Hua in the ghost market with some special skills. I didn’t care about the ghost market’s reputation and went to find her that very night.”

“Brother, have some tea.”

He nodded without looking up, thanking the giver, and continued, “I arrived near midnight at the ghost market. Her clinic was hard to find. Inside, she sat drinking tea, seemingly waiting for someone.”

“The clinic was small and smelled of herbs. Oddly, no lamps were lit at night. Luckily, I carried a lantern, which let me see her clearly. I thought she’d be an old woman, but she was young. As I stepped in, she tilted her head and stared at me with a ghastly pale face.”

The patrons asked, “Like just now, no color in her face?”

He nodded and went on, “Her first words were to ask if I brought silver. I showed her three taels.”

“Isn’t it five taels at night?”

He explained, “Men pay five taels; women, children, and the elderly pay three.”

“What happened next?”

Encouraged, they urged him to continue.

“She took the silver, then circled me a few times before pushing me aside. She stared toward where I came from and murmured.”

“Talking to someone?”

He nodded, “I was scared to ask, so I just watched. After about a cup of tea, she sat back down and continued drinking.”

“She told me, ‘Tomorrow, burn some paper money at your father’s grave, bring wine and food, have your child kowtow forty-nine times in front of your grandfather’s tomb, then copy and burn the Three Character Classic.’”

He took a sip of tea, then said, “I didn’t understand and just nodded. Then she said, ‘During Qingming, your child dared to urinate at the old man’s grave when no one was looking. This is your grandfather warning you.’”

“I did as she said, and the child recovered. But I never want to return to the ghost market—it’s terrifying, truly terrifying.”

He shuddered as he finished.

After his story, the patrons slowly dispersed, but two remained seated: Lu Chenzhou and Wei Shiqi, a captain of the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

They exchanged a smile, left some coins, and hurried toward the direction Shen Hua had gone.

Shen Hua found the Jiang family’s gate tightly shut. Without hesitation, she knocked a few times. The door opened, revealing the hunchback she’d met at the Misty Tower.

“Miss Shen, you’ve finally come.”

The hunchback opened the door halfway and stepped out, visibly nervous. Shen Hua sensed this and showed no intent to enter, instead stepping aside and asking, “What’s your name?”

“Just call me Ah Si.”

“Good. Ah Si, I’ve nearly sorted out your master’s affairs and brought what you need.”

She reached into her cloth bag and produced an oil-paper-wrapped object, handing it to Ah Si.

He looked puzzled, then opened it to find something resembling mulberries. “What’s this?”

“Your master’s heart.”

Her words didn’t faze her. Ah Si dropped the dark, sticky object on the ground. Shen Hua picked it up, placed it back on the oil paper, and said, “What’s there to fear? Your master spent last night with me in the graveyard.”

Ah Si held his breath and asked what she had done there.

“Of course, I took it. It’s crucial evidence.”

“How... how did you get it out?”

“By opening the coffin and cutting open your master’s belly.”

That brief statement was too much; Ah Si dashed under a nearby tree, retching.

Shen Hua glanced at him with mild disdain and continued, “Your mistress and the steward are involved—they’re the killers.”

“How do you know?”

“I visited your family’s shop a few days ago and happened upon them. You know more about this than I do.”

She pulled another item from her bag—herbs Ah Si didn’t recognize.

“I learned someone bought this from the ghost market half a month ago. It’s called aconite, a rare and expensive poison no ordinary pharmacy would stock. Also, before your master died, did he suffer vomiting, diarrhea, or breathing difficulties?”

Ah Si shook his head. “I don’t know. I wasn’t at the mansion that day; the steward sent me out on... business.” He muttered, “So he deliberately sent me away to strike at my master.”

“And the coroner who examined your master’s body has been frequenting the pleasure districts recently. What kind of income does a nearly fifty-year-old coroner have to afford that? He must have made a fortune.”

“But I’m an old man, illiterate and mute. I get scared at the government offices. How can I talk to officials? Even if I did, they might throw me out, thinking I’m mad.”

Ah Si laid out his difficulties, and Shen Hua hadn’t anticipated these, but she never did anything outside her plans.

Coldly, she said, “Telling me won’t help. I’m only here to give you the evidence and instructions. What you do with it is your own business.”

With that, she turned to leave.

Suddenly, a thud behind her. She turned to see Ah Si kneeling and kowtowing.

“If you want to kowtow, then kowtow.”

Shen Hua was never soft-hearted; otherwise, she wouldn’t survive alone in the ghost market. After a few steps, two men approached. One blocked her path, while the other helped Ah Si to his feet.

“Miss, it’s not good to let an old man kowtow; it shortens his life,” Lu Chenzhou said, deliberately standing in her way. He expected her to be upset, but she only glanced at him sideways and replied calmly, “He chose to kowtow; I didn’t force him. If you pity him, write a petition for him to submit to the government. That’s real help.”

“He really is from the ghost market—heart of stone,” Wei Shiqi said indignantly.

Shen Hua stopped, expression serene. “Yes. People from the ghost market are different from you. They can only live in darkness and cannot bear the light.”