“Confucius said that there are no demons or ghosts in this world, and he himself has never seen any in his life.”

“Confucius…”

Elder gripped his slanted cane, smiling as he pondered for a moment before saying:

“There are a thousand kinds of people in this world. Some fear ghosts and monsters, some do not. It’s the same with ghosts and monsters—some fear people, some do not. So, there are people who avoid ghosts, and ghosts who avoid people. Confucius is well-read, highly learned, and upright in character. He scorns ghosts and monsters—how could any ghost or monster dare to appear before him so easily?”

The many children listened in a daze, half-understanding, half-confused.

Elder smiled again, stroking his beard as he said:

“What I just mentioned happened in the neighboring county. If you don’t believe it, the Wang family’s ancestral hall in Heng Village has also been haunted recently. The Wang family has offered a huge reward: anyone who dares to spend a night in the ancestral temple will get ten thousand coins. You youngsters are full of energy—do you dare to spend a night in the ancestral hall together?”

“Really?”

“If you don’t believe me, go home and ask your parents!”

The children looked at each other, all quite scared.

“Has anyone gone?”

“Yes. There were a few gamblers and drunkards from our village who went. Except for one bold person last month who got the money, the rest were so frightened they ran out in the middle of the night. Some even fell ill for a few days after coming back.”

After Elder finished, he added:

“If you don’t believe me, you can go ask!”

The children immediately fell silent.

Only Henry Walton at the side showed a strange expression.

The reason he was waiting here was to listen to the well-traveled Elder Carter finish telling a ghost story, so he could ask the old man for a way to make money—whether it was some side job he could do, or relying on Elder Carter’s seniority to get a job with the Shu clan’s merchant caravan. As long as he could earn money, anything was good.

He hadn’t expected to overhear this…

He had heard before of drinking buddies betting on sleeping in graveyards, and had listened to many ghost stories from Elder in this very pavilion. Now, all these stories surged up in his mind.

He thought carefully, pondering deeply.

Finally, the youth picked up his sack of rice and took a step forward.

He walked along the creek to the bridge pavilion, came before Elder Carter, and, facing the kindly old man, naturally showed extra respect, first greeting:

“Grandpa Turner.”

“It’s the The Walton Family boy—what is it?”

“What you just said, about the Wang family in Heng Village offering a reward of ten thousand coins for spending a night in the ancestral hall—is that true?”

“Oh? Are you thinking of trying it?”

Although the The Walton Family was an outsider clan, they lived in the same village, so Elder knew their situation well and had helped them out before. Hearing this question, he immediately guessed his intention.

“Is there really a ghost in the Wang family’s ancestral hall?” Henry Walton asked first.

“How would I know? I was just telling these kids to scare them a bit. You can’t take my words seriously and go running off.”

“…” Henry Walton was silent for a moment, then asked, “Did anyone really get that ten thousand coins?”

“Of course. I heard it was a drunkard from the county, a big, burly fellow, maybe trained in martial arts. He went in for a night, and came out the next morning, took the money, and left.”

“Has anyone died?”

“I haven’t heard of that,” Elder said. “A death would be a big deal. It’s not deep in the mountains or forests—anywhere people live, there’s the law. Even if there really are ghosts or monsters, they wouldn’t dare to cause a death so easily.”

Henry Walton stood still, thought for a moment, and then said:

“Thank you, Grandpa Turner.”

“You really want to go? Aren’t you afraid?”

Elder had already seen through his thoughts.

“…”

Henry Walton was not a typical youth; he was thoughtful and calculating, but at this moment he said nothing more, only bowed again:

“Please, Grandpa Turner, give me some more advice.”

“Sigh…”

Elder sighed, “I’m not a Taoist priest, a judge, a witch, or a shaman—how would I know any ways to ward off evil spirits? Even if I did, it wouldn’t be of any use. If it were useful, would it be your turn?”

He paused and thought for a moment:

“I’ve often heard people say, only the dead become ghosts, and ghosts are weaker than people. Even if a fox or rat in the mountains becomes a spirit, at first it’s only a bit stronger than before—there are few with truly high powers.

“There’s an old saying: ‘Monsters arise because of people.’

“If you haven’t done bad things, have a clear conscience, are young and healthy, and full of energy, ordinary ghosts and monsters won’t bother you. If you really do encounter them, you must never be afraid. Fear leads to a chaotic mind, a chaotic mind leads to a scattered spirit, and a scattered spirit gives ghosts an opening. If you’re not afraid, your mind will be steady, your spirit whole, and then monsters and ghosts can’t harm you.

“That’s why, whenever there’s trouble with monsters, they always invite bold and energetic people to hold the fort. Courage comes first, vigor second!

“It’s the same when facing people as it is with monsters.

“Never lose your courage…”

Henry Walton listened carefully, his expression relatively calm.

Over the past year, the strange tales he’d heard from Elder Carter were mostly like this.

Monsters and ghosts are not necessarily stronger than people.

Nor are people necessarily weaker than monsters and ghosts.

There are monsters who bully people, and people who bully monsters.

There are even those who get along well with each other.

There are often chance encounters and brief connections.