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Creak…10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡW5mlxGMykJ
Lu Sheng closed the wooden window and glanced back at the room.
He took off his coat and hung it on the wooden clothes rack behind the door. Then, he opened the closet, revealing several gray women's garments worn by Sister Yu. After closing the closet door, his eyes returned to the dressing table.
The table was plain, without any decoration, except for a bronze mirror placed squarely in the center. In front of the mirror, a faint sprinkle of pink powder caught his attention. Lu Sheng reached out, touched the powder, then brought it to his nose and inhaled deeply.
"Ordinary women use perfume powder."
A frown crept over his face.
"I remember Sister Yu is not someone who likes to use perfume powder."
Suddenly, a cold wind swept through the room, causing the candlelight to flicker violently. Instinctively, Lu Sheng grabbed his Sword and scanned the surroundings.
Chi.
The door wasn’t closed tightly; a corner of white cloth flickered past the gap.
Lu Sheng hurried over.
"I remember I closed the door after I came in."
His hand found the wooden bolt—and the padlock was undone.
He pushed open the door and stepped into the corridor. It was empty and silent, but a cold draft kept flowing in. Lu Sheng’s eyes narrowed, searching for anything suspicious. Finding nothing, he turned back to the room.
The door clicked shut behind him.
He walked to the table and sat down, setting the Sword on it and gripping it firmly.
He remained still, patiently waiting for the promised woman’s cry.
The dim light hung heavy in the room. Time stretched on slowly.
Thanks to the support of the Jade Crane Art, Lu Sheng didn’t feel even a hint of sleepiness. He sat upright, alert and ready for whatever was to come.
If nothing happened soon, he planned to use his mind to accelerate the Jade Crane Art’s energy circulation. After all, this health-preserving qi art was so stable that even if he wanted to deviate his qi, he couldn’t.
Unnoticed, a long stretch of time slipped away.
Until a clear rooster crowed outside the window, the darkness gradually faded into a pale dawn.
Lu Sheng suddenly realized he had been sitting like that all night.
"Where is the woman crying? Nothing all night."
Through the window, the faint light of morning was beginning to seep in. Holding his sword, Lu Sheng stood and stretched his stiff body.
He opened the door and stepped out. Soft light spilled in from the corridor as he made his way to the yard of the lotus house. The dishes and bowls from his meal the day before still sat where he had left them.
From outside the yard, faint voices drifted to his ears.
Lu Sheng approached the door and pushed it open with force.
Dad Lu Quanan, Lu Yingying, Lu Yiyi, and several other family members were gathered there, waiting anxiously.
Startled by the sudden opening, everyone took a step back.
Seeing Lu Sheng, Lu Quanan hurried forward.
"Little Sheng! Are you okay!?"
His face was full of worry.
Lu Sheng noticed that everyone still carried torches, and some guards held unsheathed swords, their expressions tense. Confused, he asked loudly,
"What's wrong? What happened?"
Lu Quanan sighed heavily.
"Another person disappeared at home last night."
"Huh??"
Lu Sheng’s eyes widened in shock.
Second mother Liu Cuiyu then stepped forward to explain.
She told him that while Lu Sheng had been on guard, the others had searched around but heard no woman’s crying. At first, everything seemed normal. The guards patrolled, and many people stayed in their rooms pretending to rest—but most were too restless to sleep, waiting anxiously for news.
Then, something went wrong.
"Bajun... he said he was going to the toilet, but he never came back..."
A slightly plump woman sobbed softly, clutching a handkerchief.
The woman crying was Sun Zining—Lu Sheng’s aunt, and the younger sister of his late mother, Sun Yan.
The one who had disappeared this time was Lu Sheng’s cousin, Sun Bajun.
Lu Sheng had never been close to Sun Bajun. The man was lazy and addicted to gambling, traits Lu Sheng openly disapproved of and often scolded him for. Sun Bajun, in turn, resented him, and the two typically avoided each other whenever they crossed paths.
Yet unexpectedly, it was Sun Bajun who vanished this time.
Lu Sheng frowned.
"I didn’t sleep all night. I sat in the room listening to every sound. I never heard any woman crying."
At those words, a chill spread through everyone’s heart.
"What is going on?"
Aunt Sun Zining broke down in fresh sobs.
"Zining, don’t worry. There must be a way," Second Mother said gently, pulling her into a comforting embrace.
"Let’s go to the main hall and discuss our next steps," Lu Quanan said with a heavy sigh.
With no better option, the group quietly made their way back.
Lu Quanan gathered Lu Sheng, a few direct relatives, and his brother-in-law for the meeting.
The doors of the hall were shut tight. Everyone took their seats in silence. The atmosphere was tense and heavy.
Uncle Lu Anping—a stern middle-aged man with thick eyebrows, large eyes, and a square-jawed face—sat beside Lu Quanan. He wore a silver scale armor vest common to the Song Dynasty, with a curved sword at his waist. His expression was grim.
"The question now is whether we should involve the authorities," he said slowly. "If we can’t get to the bottom of this ourselves, we may need to rely on external forces."
"It’s easy to invite gods, but hard to send them away..." Lu Quanan sighed again—just one of many sighs he’d let out over the past few days.
The toll was visible on him. He looked years older, worn down by the relentless anxiety.
Lu Sheng sat silently in a lower seat, his thoughts unreadable.
Lu Quanan cast a serious look at his son.
"Little Sheng, do you have anything to say? You’re the future head of the Lu family. One day, all of this will be yours. Do you have a way to solve this crisis?"
Lu Sheng closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again, just about to speak—
"Oh no, oh no!"
Suddenly, Xiaoqiao’s voice rang out urgently from beyond the door.
"Young Master! Brother Sheng! People in the mansion are trying to run away!"
Lu Sheng immediately stood and strode to the door. As he opened it, he saw Xiaoqiao standing there, breathless and red-faced.
"Young Master, another person has gone missing! The head of the guards, Wang Chong, secretly took a large group and fled! I heard about it from a sister and rushed over to inform you."
"Run away?" Lu Sheng’s eyes narrowed.
He had expected that panic might cause people to flee, but he hadn’t thought it would happen so soon.
"Where is Wang Chong now?"
"I’m not sure. We only found out after they were already gone. Now Zhao Fanghu and the others are gathering in the courtyard. I’m afraid they’re planning to run too," Xiaoqiao said quickly.
Zhao Fanghu was another leader among the mansion’s guards and servants.
"How many people are there?" Lu Quanan asked sharply.
"I don’t know the exact number, but it’s a lot!" Xiaoqiao replied, flustered.
"I’ll go take a look," Lu Sheng said, his face darkening. Without another word, he strode off toward the courtyard.
Lu Quanan and Lu Anping exchanged grim looks and quickly followed.
When they arrived, they found more than twenty people already gathered in the courtyard—mostly guards and servants, along with a few maids.
Panic was etched onto every face.
Some were already carrying packed bags, clearly ready to flee the Lu Mansion at any moment.
When Lu Sheng and the others arrived, the chaotic murmurs in the courtyard quickly subsided.
Lu Sheng stepped forward, his expression icy.
"Who wants to leave?"
"We all want to leave!"
A guard stepped out from the crowd—it was Zhao Fanghu. Though he tried to speak firmly, fear was plain on his face.
"Young Master, we’re just ordinary people. We have our own lives, our own fates. What’s happening in the Lu family now—it’s not natural! It’s a female ghost haunting us!"
His eyes were wide, his voice trembling with fear.
"Ridiculous!"
Lu Sheng cut him off sharply, his voice like a blade.
"Who gave you the courage to spread fear and chaos in my house?"
"But I saw it with my own eyes! That white shadow! Don’t try to drag the rest of us down with the Lu family!"
Puff!
A spray of blood splattered across the ground.
Zhao Fanghu’s head flew through the air, landing with a dull thud at the feet of a maid clutching her luggage.
"Anyone who dares to spread rumors and incite panic—dies!!!"
Lu Sheng roared, sword in hand, eyes blazing as he swept his gaze across the stunned crowd.
Thump.
Zhao Fanghu’s headless body collapsed onto the courtyard floor.
"Ah!!!"
The maid shrieked in horror.
"Shut up!"
Lu Sheng’s killing intent was palpable. At his glare, the woman instantly fell silent, covering her mouth and sobbing quietly.
No one had expected such a brutal scene.
The guards and servants stood frozen, their faces ashen, bodies trembling. Not one of them dared to speak.
"Everyone, return to your quarters. If anyone causes trouble again, I will not hesitate to kill."
Lu Sheng’s voice rang cold and commanding.
Fear filled every pair of eyes staring back at him.
Under Lu Sheng’s oppressive presence, the crowd suddenly remembered who he was—a ruthless young master who had taken down numerous wanted criminals single-handedly.
Panic took over. The servants and guards scattered like frightened birds.
The corpse left on the ground was quickly cleared away by a few guards who had not taken part in the unrest.
These servants, guards, and maids had all signed indenture contracts before entering the Lu household. Leaving without permission wasn’t just disobedience—it was betrayal. Did they really think the Lu family was soft and forgiving?
Once the courtyard emptied, Lu Sheng turned to find Lu Quanan and Uncle Lu Anping watching him with mixed expressions of surprise and unease.
"Fighting violence with violence is only a temporary fix," Uncle Anping said, shaking his head.
"You’ve calmed the chaos for now, but if this isn’t resolved soon, even we may have to abandon the mansion."
Lu Sheng’s voice was steady.
"Then we may have no choice but to seek help from the authorities."
Lu Quanan sighed.
"Seems that way… Still, I’m glad you’re here, Little Sheng."
Lu Sheng’s decisive action had shown him his son wasn’t just capable—he was someone who could be relied on in a crisis.
Lu Sheng nodded, his tone firm.
"Tonight, I’ll keep watch again. I want to see for myself what kind of thing dares to cause trouble in my house."
"Don’t worry, Father. I may not have found the source last night, but I’ve picked up on some clues."
Lu Quanan’s eyes lit up.
"You’re certain?"
"Absolutely."
Uncle Anping stepped forward.
"Do you need me to mobilize more men?"
Lu Sheng shook his head.
"No need for that yet. Too many people might complicate things. We still don’t understand what these ghosts or forces are capable of. Crowds could get in the way. You can position troops to guard the perimeter of the estate."
"Alright. Little Sheng, we’ll leave this in your hands!"
Uncle Anping nodded and patted Lu Sheng’s shoulder. Despite his title as deputy commander, he was not a martial artist. Like many in the Song Dynasty military, his position had been earned through examinations and theory—not combat. Years of valuing civil over military affairs had left the army ill-prepared for real danger.
Now, the real backbone of the Lu family was Lu Sheng.
"Don’t worry."
Lu Sheng recalled the flash of white cloth he’d glimpsed the night before. A faint intuition stirred in his chest.
If he could catch whoever—or whatever—that white cloth belonged to, perhaps the mystery behind the string of disappearances could finally be unraveled.
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