Di Renjie: The Winds of Luoyang

Luoyang, the heart of the great Tang capital, was magnificent and bustling. Sunlight glinted off the city's glazed tiles, outlining the rows of buildings layered along the main thoroughfare. Deep in the alleys, porters' cries mingled with the distant clatter of hooves from the post station. The roads to Chang'an were crowded with people, and everything seemed to run smoothly amid the city's prosperity. Yet an unusual breeze stirred quietly, as though foreshadowing some unknown disturbance. It was mid-spring. At a teahouse by a lake on the outskirts of Luoyang, small groups of customers chatted about the court debate the day before and strange happenings around town. One of them lowered his voice and said: “Have you heard? Something strange happened to a family in Zhuqiao Village yesterday. They say the place is haunted. The woman of the house hanged herself in broad daylight. Her death was very peculiar.” Another man curled his lip. “There are no such things as ghosts. Someone's probably just trying to scare people.” As they spoke, a rapid clatter of hooves approached. A dusty and weary constable rode up and reined in his horse. He called loudly to the customers in the teahouse, “Has anyone seen Lord Di?” The customers all turned to look, but no one answered. Just as the constable began to grow anxious, a calm voice came from a corner of the teahouse. “What do you need me for?”