The Du Ping court could not be bothered by visions. “Not with our real problems out there.” Although their physiognomist conceded she had the look of someone haunted, he said it was personal and not a matter for the community.

Xisheng disagreed and had no doubts that come next lunar tiding, the horde of murderous ghosts she foresaw every night would burst through the city gates, burn their village down to cinders, and kill them all.

Thus the burden fell upon her.

In the twilight of a full moon, she prepared defenses around the city blocks. Wreaths at every lamp and idols smuggled amongst vendor carts. Pig’s blood, as much as she had, was on each of her favorite neighbor’s doorsteps. An exhausting effort, but not enough. The screams of women and children still deafened her ears, and she felt the trampling of phantom hooves over her aching body. The ground would soon be wet with blood.

So she went home and took her father’s sword that hung above their mantle, dressed the blade with holy oils, and stood in front of walls to face them alone.

At the stroke of three, she heard them: whispers arising from the distant bamboo stalks, growing incessantly louder until it was almost a shout tearing the air apart.

“Xisheng!”

That voice…it was the voice that would sing lullabies to her as a child, and she could not help but answer.

“I won’t let you harm these people, Baba. They’re starving. A single late tribute could feed them for months.”

His face was unmoved, almost sneering, while their skeletal horses pawed at the ground in anticipation.

“Punish them, and what would you be the king of? Nothing but ashes and ghosts.”

The thought then occurred: this had happened when they were still alive. There had been no fight, no other option. She had taken the sword, held it in the air, and…

A daughter’s sacrifice for strangers meant nothing that day as they rode past Xisheng’s slumped body with father’s hilt blossoming like a flower from her heart, and the only echo of emotion that remained when her eyes finally closed to the unfurling carnage was an everlasting guilt.

Nowadays, Du Ping is just an empty dirt field in the middle of nowhere.

—

“Xisheng? Xisheng, get up. Are you ok?”

“Oh…oh, I had those visions again…ghosts coming to kill us…”

“They are only dreams, Xisheng. Please help me with the tools and start the day. We have real problems to worry about.”

“I know, Baba, but the grain can’t grow any faster. We won’t make it in time anyway.”

“We must try, Xisheng. In this life and every life, we must try.”