Chapter 29: Carved Lock (I)
The dragon quickly disappeared into the clouds, and it was a shame that the storm was so heavy
and that the river water was so agitated, for only a handful of people had actually been able to see
the beast's silhouette. It was likely that, like the name of Wolong County itself, the incident would
become only another myth.
In reality, the mythical Xue Xian had not actually been as at ease as the family, looking from afar,
had thought. He had indeed climbed into the clouds –– it was what dragons did, after all, and
besides, he had been so overjoyed by the return of his real body that he had not been able to
restrain himself –– but, once in the clouds, that tiny issue of his half-paralysis had become apparent
again. He could still only move the top half of his body, while the bottom half hung limply behind
him. He attempted to turn in mid-air but did not succeed. And then...
Pathetically, he came falling down.
Xue Xian had been separated from his real body for over half a year. In that period, he had perched
in the hands of hundreds of strangers, had been trapped with Liu-shiye in his damn compound, and
had had to eat dirt and other lost souls when he'd been starving. So much had happened that, now
that Xue Xian had been returned to his original body, he felt as though he were wearing a new skin
–– he needed to spend a few days breaking it in again.
So as the niezhang vaulted into the air, tipped back his head, and tumbled back toward the river,
he found that he was deeply lacking in a certain explosive force. Xue Xian's soul had not fully
regained control of his body.
He tried to curl up to avoid injury, but failed at that too. All he could do was try to keep a straight
face as he crashed directly into the water.
As the whirlpool died down, Xuanmin had been starting to feel himself float upward, and thought
he could see the light of day through the ripples of the water. But then the heavy niezhang fell on
top of him...
Rammed into the riverbed by Xue Xian's enormous tail, Xuanmin, who until then had managed to
remain awake, felt only a thump against his chest, and subsequently passed out.
Xuanmin: “...”
Xue Xian sputtered, and bubbles escaped from his mouth. “...” Some things really can't be helped.
Why don’t you get amnesia again and forget that?
Thankfully, only Xuanmin had been crushed by the falling dragon. Lu Nianqi, along with the lifeless
bodies of Shijiu and Liu-laotou that had been dragged out by the current, peacefully bobbed up to
the surface.
The savage storm around them had been summoned by Xue Xian's return to his dragon form –– now,
it disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared. As the rain thinned, someone on shore noticed
the strange objects floating on the river and had a nasty fright. The local corpse-diver responsible
for this patch of the river soon rowed a rickety boat into the water.
This man had spent most of his life as a corpse-diver, but had never experienced anything like this
before. There was an unprecedented number of bodies bobbing up and down in the mist. Some of
them had been in the water for who knew how long, and their clothes had all begun to dissolve.
Others were fresh, as though recently drowned.
The corpse-diver counted them with his finger: there were nine.
Three of the fresh ones were in a cluster, so perhaps they had been a group. The six others floated
more or less separately –– and, strangely, perhaps only a trick of the light –– as he looked out at the
six bodies, one of them seemed to point its head toward one of the river islets.
The tiny islets were usually scattered around Gravestone Island and were far smaller than the
latter, only big enough for the occasional bird to rest its feet. The corpse-diver did not usually take
much notice of them, but now, for some reason, they looked unfamiliar to him –– it was uncanny.
As the corpse-diver hooked the bodies with his pole, he pondered this.
Then, he suddenly realised: "Gravestone Island has disappeared!"
The corpse-diver was a veteran professional. In the blink of an eye, he had collected the two freshlooking bodies nearest to him and brought them onto his boat. As he flipped them over, he jumped
with surprise: he was friends with the boatman Liu-laotou, and as for Lu Shijiu, he had watched the
boy grow up. The corpse-diver breathed a sad sigh, and, reaching the hook of his pole back into the
water, dragged out the third body.
"What kind of sin..." When he saw that the third body was the skinny little Lu Nianqi, the corpsediver sighed again. "Lao-Lu's family has died out." [a]
But as he heaved Nianqi onto his boat, the corpse-diver hissed with confusion and mumbled, "This
little Nianqi looks... different, somehow. I had just run into him the other day."
Lu Nianqi had always been out and about often –– after all, at home, it was his job to gather
firewood and to cook meals –– so the corpse-diver had often seen the boy in the street. All of those
who were familiar with the Lu family in the neighborhood were aware of Lu Nianqi's true age. They
knew that, after Nianqi had almost drowned and lost his father, he had had a raging fever for
several days. Though the fever did eventually retreat, the boy stopped growing after it: strangers
often took him to be a child of five or six who happened to have a precocious vocabulary.
The corpse-diver was not a tall man himself, and, as far as he could remember, Lu Nianqi could
only ever reach his chest.
But now, he looked at the body on the boat and used his hands to estimate the boy's height. The
boy seemed... a bit taller than before.
"How the hell did he grow that much in just a few days..." the corpse-diver muttered, bewildered.
But he immediately thought of an explanation –– Lu Nianqi’s dead body had probably simply taken
in too much river water, and merely looked larger.
Just as the corpse-diver turned away to find the other bodies, Lu Nianqi nonchalantly came back to
life and sat up again.
“Cough, cough, cough––”
Lu Nianqi coughed, and then, with a shout, regurgitated all the water in his lungs. Finally, redfaced all the way to the tips of his ears, he looked up.
The first thing he saw was the terrified corpse-diver falling backwards into the water with a plop.
Nianqi: “...”
At the bottom of the river, Xue Xian could hear the rowing sounds of a boat, and felt unsettled.
After some time submerged, he could finally begin to feel his own body again, and gradually felt
himself taking back control.
First, he tried to move his head. As his neck swivelled, he noticed a sunken stone lock lying a few
zhang away. The lock was enormous, perhaps half the size of a coffin, with a square bottom that
looked extremely heavy. Its top was pointed, with a hole, and through the hole was a thin metal
chain, which itself seemed to be tied to something else located above it.
As Xue Xian followed the chain up, he saw that it was attached to some kind of ragged cotton wad,
and at the top of the cotton wad was a bunch of black algae...
Wait, no, it wasn't a cotton wad, nor was it algae!
Xue Xian suddenly remembered that, on their way to Gravestone Island, Lu Nianqi had been
frightened by something in the water. The boy had said that he'd seen a black mass float by, and
had thought it was hair. But, he’d said, it had to have been algae, because if it was the hair of a
dead body, then the corpse would be floating at the surface of the water, not half-sunken in that
way.
Xue Xian studied the stone lock and the chain, and understood why the body had not been floating
normally. Its ankle was tied down, so that the entire corpse stood stiffly vertical at the bottom of
the water.
He swung his head, and the river water moved accordingly. With the current, a snapped chain
unsnagged itself from somewhere and came floating by.
Xue Xian had probably broken the chain while frolicking in the tempest earlier.
He inspected the item, then contemplated the facts for a very long time. When the top half of his
body finally regained enough mobility, he twitched a front claw and reached for the chain, to wind
it around his arm.
And... found only water.
Xue Xian: “...”
Exasperated, Xue Xian glared down at his claw. He had become used to his human-shaped body
being able to reach for whatever it wanted, whenever it wanted to –– and had forgotten that, in
comparison, his dragon claw was a lot shorter.
Basically, the zuzong had failed in his task, because... he couldn't reach the chain.
Something inside Xue Xian rejoiced. Thank the heavens his companions were either unconscious or
nowhere to be found at the moment –– if they'd seen what had just occurred, he could go ahead
and just die of humiliation! Especially if that annoying bald donkey had seen it!
The zuzong reared his dragon head and began to move the dirt around the riverbed. It was like this
that the paralysed bottom half of his body was able to slither its way off of Xuanmin's chest.
Xuanmin's finger twitched –– he seemed to be coming back.
As Xue Xian's sharp claw finally grabbed onto the chain, it was akin to a knife meeting a block of
tofu. The sturdy-looking chain was slashed clean by Xue Xian's claw. The bottom part of the chain
sank to the bottom of the river to join the stone lock, and the top part, trailing after the corpse to
which it was attached, began to ascend.
"Huh –– I need to figure out my strength again," Xue Xian mumbled to himself. He still wasn't used to
his dragon body. Even moving his upper body to reach for the chain had taken significant effort. He
felt as though he had just climbed up a tall pagoda while carrying a thousand-jin weight. His very
hands were soft.
He spiralled back to the bottom of the river, where his heavy dragon head thumped into the
riverbed –– it was the least effortful way of getting right where he wanted to be. Slumped there,
Xue Xian stared intently at the large stone lock.
After having inspected it from all sides, he now forced himself to swallow down his pride and raised
his stubby claw to swipe at it, flipping the lock over.
The bottom side of the lock revealed itself.
Someone had carved a circular design in the corner of the smooth stone surface.
From his time wandering around the human realm, Xue Xian had learned that many stonemasons
liked to stamp a unique design onto their products. If possible, they would leave a large print that
would be useful advertisement; if there was not enough space, they would make a small mark
somewhere inconspicuous. It was a tactful move –– most people would not be able to recognise it as
a signature.
Xue Xian knew that nobody would do all this to a bunch of corpses just for fun –– there had to be
some kind of purpose to this. Thinking back to the ‘Hundred Soldiers Push the Flow’ design back at
the tomb, he was certain that these standing corpses had to be related to that.
The bald donkey had blasted everything in the tomb to smithereens, so there were probably no
clues to be found there anymore.
Xue Xian tapped the riverbed with his claw, deep in thought. He decided to become one of those
people that couldn’t mind their own business. [b] So, with a sway of his long body, he towed the
current and used it to push the lock toward shore.
The current surged powerfully. Curling himself around the still unconscious Xuanmin, Xue Xian
followed the current’s momentum and let it drag him to shore.
The width of the river was only really enough for him to swish his head or his tail, so he reached
the bank in the blink of an eye, clutching Xuanmin and the lock.
He jiggled his body, and soon a large wave pushed Xuanmin and the lock onto dry land. Then, still
floating in the waves, Xue Xian twitched his head and transformed into a human, and then ––
Immediately turned back into a dragon again.
Xue Xian: “………”
Fuck! No clothes!
When Xue Xian had made himself that paper body, he had naturally painted clothes for himself that
he could wear even in his human form. But now that he was back in his real body... This was
awkward.
He dunked his head back into the water, furious and humiliated. He allowed himself to sink back to
the bottom of the river. He wanted to die.
A moment later, a tiny black worm of only a few cun long emerged from the water... Wait, no, it
was a dragon. It peeked his head out of the water and swam across the waves and parked itself on
the riverbank. It looked up to the sky, breathing out a long, heavy sigh. Then, silently, it wiggled to
Xuanmin's side and crawled up his sleeve. Like a string bracelet, it curled itself around Xuanmin's
wrist.
As the cold, slippery thing touched his skin, Xuanmin opened his eyes.
---
Chapter 30: Carved Lock (II)
A dragon's body is covered in scales, and the ones on its back are extremely hard, forming a kind of
exoskeleton. The scales are largest nearest to its head, and gradually become smaller as they inch
toward its tail. Just to chip off a single scale from the back requires a strong knife. But the scales
near the dragon's belly are softer than the ones on its spine. On that day at Guiyun Hall, for
instance, Xue Xian had left Xuanmin a scale from his belly.
This niezhang was highly arrogant, and always insisted on assuming that the people around him
were stupid –– indeed, he was so pig-headed that he generally did not trust anyone else to make
the right decision. Xue Xian had worried that if he'd given Xuanmin a scale from his back, that bald
donkey would not have known to first grind the scale into powder, and would have simply
swallowed it whole. Then the scale would have slashed Xuanmin's throat from the inside and the
innkeeper would have found a dead body in the room. That would not have been good.
The point was: this niezhang’s belly was relatively soft.
The annoying part was that, once he became small, the scales along his body followed suit and
became tiny, supple things. Even the hardest scales on his spine lost their edge and became pliable
and even slightly stretchy –– so of course the belly was even worse.
Looking down, Xue Xian poked himself with his claw and found that a single poke caused his belly to
turn fucking concave. There was no difference between his belly and human skin! Worse, his belly
seemed even softer, and, as it bounced, it didn't even hurt!
His mighty dragon claw, which could cleave through iron as though it were loose sand, could not
cause any pain when scratching his belly! It seemed that his claws, too, had become soft.
Another fatal strike to his dignity.
As his soft and supple scaled body curled around the bald donkey's wrist, Xue Xian just couldn’t get
comfortable ––
From an outsider's perspective, the bald donkey had quite a lovely wrist: slender, with a mellow
curve to the bone. But as Xue Xian wound himself pitifully around the monk's wrist, he found that
this spot was not amenable at all. The bone of Xuanmin’s wrist protruded against his soft belly
scales –– it felt as though Xue Xian were lying stomach-down on top of a round ladle; it didn't hurt,
but it was bumpy and hard.
Annoying!
Xue Xian clawed angrily at the bony wrist, but was unable to draw any blood –– all he had probably
achieved was to slightly tickle the bald donkey. Xue Xian gave up and turned away to sulk.
The niezhang was full of drama and had a bad temper –– to be able to piss himself off so much and
so often probably counted as a talent.
But as he moved this way and that, he quickly drew Xuanmin's attention.
When Xuanmin first opened his eyes, he simply blankly stared at the sky, his black eyes deep as
pools, with a slight hint of emptiness.
Then, he furrowed his brows, because, mixed into the moisture of the river, he could smell the
stench of blood. When he'd fallen into the water, he had been in the middle of muttering a spell
with his eyes shut tightly, so he had not ended up swallowing too much water. But the pressure of
the current at the bottom of the river meant that he now had a sharp pain in his chest.
He coughed softly and sat up. Glancing quickly at his surroundings, Xuanmin found that he was
sitting in a pile of soft mud on the riverbank, and that next to him was a heavy stone lock, which
sank into the damp earth. No one else was around, so there was no immediate danger. Through the
mist on the river, he could see that a cluster of boats had gathered on the water –– he wasn't sure
what they were doing, but they did not seem to have noticed his presence on the shore.
Reassured, he moved his gaze away.
Xuanmin hated any and all kinds of dirt. As he observed his own state, a mild expression of disgust
appeared on his face.
When he moved to clean off the blood and mud from his robes, he felt a movement on his wrist.
Frowning, he tore up his sleeve and came face to face with the thing that had attached itself to his
arm.
Xue Xian wasn't feeling very well, so when he made eye contact with Xuanmin, he really could not
be bothered to deal with the monk. He noticed that Xuanmin was acting strangely and rolled his
eyes. There he goes again!
So he scoffed and said lazily, "Don't talk. Don't ask me who I am, and definitely don't ask me who
you are. Listen to me. Raise your hand and touch the left side of your neck."
Xuanmin was a suspicious man by nature. If anyone else had said this to him, he would not have
heeded their words –– he would have beat the person and tied them up first, and then dealt with
himself. But the thing curled up on his wrist spoke with such straightforward confidence. It did not
seem to be lying.
Besides... this niezhang looked so weak. Any tug could snap it and any pinch could kill it. It didn't
seem to be a threat at all.
So Xuanmin stared at Xue Xian coldly for a while, then finally did as he said and touched his neck.
Xue Xian reached out a claw and took on the air of an expert [a] as he directed Xuanmin. "Is your
arm physically too short to reach it or something? Go further. Yes, right there. Now press down on
it. When you wake up, don't try to talk to me. I'm not in the mood to chat with you."
Having had his moment of humiliation trying to claw the chain in the river, Xue Xian was in a bad
mood. He took it out on Xuanmin at first opportunity. Xue Xian was an unreasonable one indeed.
Xue Xian watched as Xuanmin's fingers found that spider-shaped mole. Just like before, the thin red
blood vessels around the mole swiftly retreated. The process seemed painful: Xuanmin frowned and
snapped his eyes shut. After sitting there silently for a while, he opened his eyes again. The
confusion in his eyes had disappeared and was now completely replaced by that familiar blank face
and condescending glare.
Seeing this, Xue Xian knew that Xuanmin had recovered.
Xue Xian leaned back and idly said, "Where did you pick up this amnesia disease? Do you have to go
through this process each time? It sounds awfully inconvenient."
Xuanmin said nothing. He only stared down at Xue Xian.
Before, Xuanmin had been too confused to pay any attention, but now that he looked at the
niezhang, he found that the marble had grown a head, a tail, and four limbs. The head looked like
a dragon's head. But Xuanmin had never seen such a... puny dragon. Though it was indeed covered
in scales, the bottom section of its body hung limply. Unlike the top part of its body, which was
coiled expertly around Xuanmin's wrist, the tail simply dangled, like dead weight.
Xuanmin stared at him blankly, then pinched that limp tail, which was slim and pointy, with a
strange texture.
Xue Xian glowered at him and scoffed, "Let go. What are you doing? Do you have no sense of civility
at all? Which book taught you to just go ahead and touch people's tails?"
In fact, Xue Xian could not feel the bottom half of his body at all, and would probably not even
notice if it was cut off in the night. But pain was one thing –– this, dignity, was another. A glorious
dragon getting his tail pinched in such a way... What would people say?
If it wasn't for the fact that he needed to rely on the bald donkey for the moment, he would slam
this stupid mortal directly into the sea.
Of course, Xuanmin wasn't teasing –– he didn't tease. He was simply surprised by the fact that the
niezhang had somehow completely transformed in the short moment that he'd been unconscious.
"Where did you get this shell from?" he asked.
"What do you mean, get?" Xue Xian glared at him. "You think I'd use someone else's sloppy seconds?"
Xuanmin checked his pouch –– the marble was gone.
"This is your real body?" Although Xuamin’s tone was a questioning one, he seemed to be stating it
as fact.
Xue Xian grunted in agreement.
"If you have obtained your real body again, why are you coiled on my wrist?" Xuanmin asked, glaring
at him.
Xuanmin didn't actually want Xue Xian to leave. Indeed, that mysterious piece of paper in his
pocket had Find this person written on it in clear terms, and it seemed that something about Xue
Xian had a clear connection to the diagram drawn on the paper. Naturally, Xuanmin was not going
to simply let the niezhang slink away.
But that was Xuanmin’s perspective. Xue Xian's behavior, on the other hand, wasn't making any
sense. The niezhang had previously made several attempts to escape, and based on his mischievous
attitude, he should have taken advantage of Xuanmin blacking out to run away. For Xue Xian to
dutifully coil himself on Xuanmin's wrist and wait for him to wake up was incredibly strange.
Xuanmin poked the little dragon's head. Had the niezhang gotten them into more trouble? Or eaten
something poisonous? Why else would he be acting so well-behaved?
Xue Xian scratched at Xuanmin with his claws and pushed the annoying hand away. "First you
capture me, and now you want to kick me out! It’s very rude and unreasonable to expect me to
come and go as you ask. I've decided not to leave. Deal with it. Stop touching me, asshole!"
Xuanmin: “...”
This niezhang was the one who had decided to coil himself around someone else’s hand. Now he
was trying to call others unreasonable and rude. How shameless.
Of course Xue Xian had not eaten anything poisonous.
Indeed, Xuanmin was not wrong to be so suspicious. Xue Xian had thought about sneaking away, and
the issue of being naked in his human form was no big deal as he could easily steal some passerby's
clothes. And if it came down to it, he could also have peeled the robes off the bald donkey and
passed himself off as being on his way to a funeral.
The reason why he was so obediently staying by Xuanmin's side was that he'd discovered something
nice back when he'd been a marble. This bald donkey had a unique physicality –– there was
something special [b] about his body –– which had somehow managed to hasten Xue Xian's return to
his original body. It was likely that Xuanmin could also help Xue Xian to track down his missing
bones quicker.
Xue Xian could freely admit that he was not an empathetic person. When he saw that there was a
benefit to him, he stayed, and when he could derive no use out of someone, he left. It was that
straightforward.
He felt no need to look further into his intentions. Basically, he didn't feel like heading off on his
own at the moment. He decided to stay with the bald donkey a bit longer –– he could always leave
him another gift as a word of thanks afterwards.
Besides, with the bald donkey there, it made things easier to investigate. Xuanmin was far more
useful than the bookworm Jiang Shining.
As he avoided Xuanmin's hand again, Xue Xian bared his claws and ruffled his scales to warn that
bald donkey not to touch him. But his gaze landed on the stone lock beside the monk, and he began
to ponder...
The body part he'd absorbed from the soil had been to Xue Xian like a seed to a tree. Although he
now lazed around serenely, he could clearly feel something roiling and churning inside him.
But there was still something he hadn't figured out...
If it really had been one of his body parts, why had it appeared in the river by Wolong County of all
places?
Could it be the case that the person who had maimed him was the same person behind the feng
shui design in the tomb? And even if it wasn't the same exact person, there had to be some kind of
connection.
If Xue Xian could get the bald donkey to help him decode the mark on the stone lock and figure out
its origins, then they might happen to find the person who had maimed him.
Xuanmin cleaned out the blood and dirt from his robe and walked onto the paved river path, with
Xue Xian telling him to hurry up all the while. Suddenly, like a water ghost, Lu Nianqi stumbled out
of nowhere, feeling his way toward them. Xuanmin realised that the cluster of boats on the river
had probably gathered because they'd found Lu Nianqi and the others... but it still didn't explain
why so many people had shown up.
Lu Nianqi blindly tottered over and squinted at them. Finally, he said, "It is you."
The boy’s voice sounded extremely fatigued –– he was probably still mourning Lu Shijiu and had not
yet been able to process the shock. He sighed, then added, "Could I... ask you for a favor? My...
There's something wrong with my eyes, and I don't feel very well. Shijiu is standing right here, but
somehow... somehow I can't see him. I can see the outlines of everyone else, but not him."
---
Chapter 31: Carved Lock (III)
With a flick of his finger, Xuanmin's robe suddenly became dry. He let the now-dry Jiang Shining out
of his pouch and then strode after Lu Nianqi, who was walking back to the river port where several
boats had gathered.
Xue Xian remained coiled on Xuanmin's wrist, with his flimsy tail hanging flaccidly out of the edge
of Xuanmin’s sleeve. Now, he rearranged himself so that his tiny head peeked out. He looked over
at Lu Nianqi.
Previously, the kid had been extremely skinny and short, though slightly more lively-looking than
Shijiu, probably because Nianqi liked to run around more and had a stubborn personality –– in
general, he came off as an energetic, blunt little rascal.
But now, each step he took seemed to take a great deal of effort. He walked in a light and drifting
manner, as though each time his foot touched the floor he had to immediately lift it up again
because any amount of pressure was agony. The boy seemed to be in unbearable pain.
Lu Nianqi had only taken a dozen steps, but his face had already gone as white as paper, and his
forehead, which had just been blown dry of river water by the breeze, was now covered in a layer
of sweat again.
"Just now you said you weren't feeling well. What do you mean?" Seeing the boy's pallor, Xue Xian
decided that this could not simply be an effect of grief, so he could not help but ask about it.
The blood had drained from Nianqi's lips, too –– he looked terminally ill and feverish. The whiter his
face turned, the blacker his eyes looked, and the less light seemed to bounce off his pupils: he did
not even look alive anymore. The boy's eyelashes fluttered and he stuck out a tongue to lick his
chapped lips. Shaking his head, he said, "It's nothing. I don't know either. It's just that... my bones
feel sore and swollen, and every time my foot touches the floor, it sends that painful sour feeling
all over my body. I don't want to move around too much."
Then, before Xue Xian could respond, Lu Nianqi lowered his voice and mumbled, "I'll bear with it...
It's still not as painful as dying."
Jiang Shining glanced at him. "Not necessarily."
Suddenly, as though he had remembered something, Lu Nianqi stopped and turned to Jiang Shining.
Although the boy was older than he looked, he was still a child in Jiang Shining's eyes, so the latter
usually let him get away with speaking rather brusquely and tactlessly. Lu Nianqi stared at Jiang
Shining coldly and asked, "You're not alive anymore, right?"
In that moment, even Xue Xian, tucked inside Xuanmin's sleeve, thought he could see a flash of
light across Lu Nianqi's eyes, as though the boy had been falling off a cliff but had suddenly been
able to grab onto an edge. [a]
Jiang Shining was a gentle soul. Though he sometimes liked to bicker with Xue Xian, he was not
about to treat a child in such a way. He paused for a moment, then nodded. "Yes. I've been dead
for three years, but my last request has not yet been fulfilled, so I'm living in a paper body
temporarily."
Hearing this, Lu Nianqi briefly forgot to take care in the way that he walked. As he took another
step, he accidentally put too much pressure and shrieked with pain. Another bucketful of sweat
poured down his forehead. But he ignored it, and said to Jiang Shining, "Really? So even if you die,
it doesn't mean you'll disappear without a trace?"
Jiang Shining stole a glance at Xuanmin, then ambiguously muttered, "Souls will at least stick
around for an hour, and in special situations, they might stay a bit longer. Right, dashi?"
Xuanmin glared at Jiang Shining. He did not speak nor did he acknowledge the question. Instead, he
pointed ahead –– they'd arrived. A number of fishermen were gathered at the river port, and it was
not appropriate to discuss such things in a crowd.
Lu Nianqi took that as a ‘yes’. His face seemed to flush with a little bit of warmth.
Seven or eight boats jostled for space by the riverbank. The boats' passengers had all gotten off and
were milling about in a group –– they seemed to be working together to drag something onto shore.
"Heavens, ah... When did these people drown?" someone said. "Why are they all rotten?"
"In all the years that I've collected corpses here, I've never come across anything like this." That was
the voice of the corpse-diver.
After Lu Nianqi had come back to life on the corpse-diver's boat, the old man had decided to leave
the other bodies in the water for the moment and row back with the three that he'd already
collected. Only after placing Lu Shijiu and Liu-laotou on the embankment, and giving Lu Nianqi
some hot wine to warm him up, had the corpse-diver returned to the river.
Hearing the corpse-diver describe the scene, the resting fishermen by the shore had decided to give
him a hand.
But their boats were not fit for carrying the dead –– being fishing boats and pleasure cruisers, it
would have been a bad omen. Instead, they’d decided to help the corpse-diver to bring the bodies
that looked like rotten cotton wads from his boat. Soon there was an eerie row of bodies arranged
on the shore.
Xuanmin saw the row of waterlogged bodies and frowned.
"Gave me a nasty fright," the corpse-diver was saying as he and his colleagues brought the last of
the bodies to the riverbank. "At first there were only six bodies –– I counted! They were floating by
the islets. But as I returned to collect the last two, I don't know what happened. Another one
floated up. It came right up to the side of my boat. That feeling… Horrible!"
Xue Xian subtly scratched Xuanmin's wrist and said, "Bald donkey, look at those bodies. The corpse
that the corpse-diver mentioned was probably the one I released. There's no way this isn't related
to that 'Hundred Soldiers Push the Flow' design. I'll explain more later, but pay attention for now ––
check if there's anything amiss with these corpses."
His voice came out muffled so that nobody else could hear, but Xuanmin received the message
quite clearly –– as though the sound had followed the shape of his sleeve and crept up to his ear.
Xuanmin's brow furrowed again, then he glanced down and said, "Mn." His finger then thumped Xue
Xian's little tail again, as a warning for the niezhang not to move around too much and stay hidden.
But the niezhang’s response was to bite down on his hand, hard.
Dully, Xuanmin said, "Let go."
Jiang Shining and Lu Nianqi gaped at him. "What do you mean, let go?"
Xuanmin's expression did not stage –– he continued to stare blankly at the bodies that had been
dragged out of the water. His gaze scanned them from their rotten, skeletal feet to the mess of
black hair on their heads. Compared to the wrinkled, dry faces of the fishermen as they dry heaved
with disgust, these corpses actually had an ethereal [b] feeling to them.
The atmosphere on the riverbank was chilling. When Jiang Shining received no response from
Xuanmin, he was too afraid to press, so he decided that he had merely misheard. Silently, he
looked away.
Xue Xian was still gnawing at Xuanmin's thumb, unable to forgive the bald donkey for tugging at his
tail. Finally, exhausted, he let go.
Xue Xian's instinct had been correct –– although the seven corpses did not look particularly
remarkable, they all had something tied to their waists. While the fishermen were busy dry
heaving, Xuanmin, with his hand wrapped in another torn piece of cloth, removed each of the items
from the bodies' waists.
All seven were military dog tags, with the names scratched out.
Clearly, this group of bodies had been sourced similarly to the ones trapped in the tomb.
As Xuanmin wrapped the items in the cloth and put the bundle away, Xue Xian said, "Right, we also
have the tags that we got from the bottom of the river. Let's take a closer look later."
Xuanmin walked over to Lu Shijiu's body.
Nianqi was kneeling by his brother, his hand hovering above Shijiu’s body, trembling. He wanted to
touch Shijiu, but was afraid to do so –– as if, with that touch, Shijiu would really, truly be dead.
"Look––" Nianqi said, raising his head. As his gaze fell upon Xuanmin, his eyes seemed strangely
emptier than they had been earlier, as though he were increasingly turning... blind.
"I can feel that he's here, and I can touch him, but I can't see him," Nianqi continued. "I can see
you. I can see the men on the shore. I can't see you clearly –– I can't distinguish the faces –– but I
can see. It's just Shijiu that I can't see."
Xuanmin glanced at Shijiu’s body on the ground and then looked back into Nianqi's dark eyes. "The
way you 'look' is not with your eyeballs,” Xuanmin said. “Your eyes have gone blind –– you just did
not notice."
"What do you mean?" Nianqi's throat tightened.
Covertly, Xue Xian peeked his head out of the sleeve. He, too, inspected Nianqi's eyes. "Of course! I
was wondering why your eyes had stopped reflecting light. It shouldn't've had anything to do with
the water."
Xue Xian thought for a while, then added, "Lu Shijiu exchanged his life for yours. It seems that he
transferred his fuji skill to you as well. The changes in your body seem related to that, too, but it's
still in the middle of happening, which is why you feel so much pain."
Stunned, Nianqi stammered, "You mean... you mean my eyes will become like Shijiu's?"
"Not will. It seems to already be occurring," Xue Xian replied. "What you're seeing now probably isn't
normal silhouettes, but qi. Everything in your vision is probably what Lu Shijiu used to see every
day."
"So the reason I can't see Shijiu is because..." Nianqi's nostrils flared as his breathing quickened ––
he seemed to be choking. He frowned and his eyes brimmed red. "Why?"
Xuanmin raised his thumb and pressed down on Nianqi's forehead, where the minggong pressure
point was. "You have grown a red mole here. Your brother had the exact same one. It is a mark of a
successful life exchange. If his soul had stayed in this world without leaving, there would be no
such mark."
Life exchange spells were forbidden arts, because even if the procedure did succeed, the survivor
would suffer side effects. They would start to take after the person who had given them their life:
either their appearance would change to look more like that person, or their personality and sanity
would become muddy. The longer the dead person's soul stayed in the realm of the living, the more
adverse the impact would be on the survivor.
In other words: in order to minimise the side effects on Lu Nianqi, Lu Shijiu had departed as soon as
possible. The neutral, unemotional words he'd said to Nianqi back at the tomb had been his parting
words.
And with that farewell, they would probably never see each other again.
"Don't cry." Jiang Shining didn't have a handkerchief, so he used his hands to dab Lu Nianqi’s silent
tears. "Perhaps..."
But before he could finish, all the blood vanished from Lu Nianqi’s face, and the boy fainted.
Perhaps the pain in his body had gotten to him, or perhaps it was the grief. He did not wake up for
a very long time.
No matter how aloof Xuanmin was, or how much of an asshole Xue Xian was, they were not about
to leave a dead youth and an unconscious boy behind and simply swagger off –– that would be
despicable. So they decided to temporarily settle down in that tiny courtyard that Lu Shijiu and Lu
Nianqi had grown up in.
The courtyard was a dispiriting wreck composed only of one minuscule kitchen and one equally
small, drab living room. Inside the living room was a four-person table, and two bedrooms branched
off to each side, each with a narrow bed and wooden closet –– one for each brother.
We say ‘settle down’, but the only person actually to settle was the unconscious Lu Nianqi. As soon
as Xuanmin and the others had laid the boy to rest in his room, they went to the local funerary stall
to order a coffin. They placed Lu Shijiu into the coffin and put the coffin in the other room for the
time being.
Just as Xuanmin had sat down by the table in the living room, planning to begin thinking about the
mystery behind the stone lock and the dog tags, Xue Xian stuck his head out from Xuanmin’s sleeve.
"Don't sit down yet. Go to a clothing shop, or a textile shop."
Xuanmin stared down at him, waiting for an explanation.
Xue Xian scratched his dragon head with his claw. With a tight, embarrassed voice, he said, "I'm not
wearing any clothes."
Xuanmin: “...”
Xuanmin digested Xue Xian's words as he blankly scanned the dragon's thin, curled body. Finally, he
said, "What book taught you that it was okay to just go ahead and wrap yourself naked around
someone's hand?"
Xue Xian bit him.
That niezhang's teeth were rather sharp. Each bite left a half-moon mark.
Xuanmin pulled up his sleeve, revealing his slender hand. He curved his index and middle fingers
and presented them to Xue Xian.
On the two fingers were a total of six different bite marks –– all that niezhang’s good work.
Xue Xian looked away and shrugged, denying responsibility. "Stop showing off your hand. It's not
that much prettier than a chicken foot, plus it's uncomfortable as hell. It may look nice, but it's not
practical at all, and unpleasant for me to wrap around. Now, if you please, get moving and go find
me some clothes."
Jiang Shining was about to enter the room when he heard the niezhang ranting. Not wanting to
bother, he quickly returned to the darkness of the kitchen, where he stood in a corner.
Xuanmin shook his head, but got up to leave.
The trip they were about to take started out as a shopping trip for the dragon, but it
serendipitously netted other rewards, too.
--The author has something to say:
Tomorrow afternoon I don’t have class~ Will try to update with a long and fat chapter =3=
--[a] The exact phrasing Musuli uses here is “caught a life-saving stalk of grass” (i.e. when falling off
a cliff), but it was too long in English.
[b] The phrase Musuli uses here is 飘然出尘 (piao1 ran2 chu1 chen2). 飘然 means
“gloating/gliding”. 出尘 literally means “exiting into the dust”, and is used to describe when
someone who has lived their life away from human society/concerns (especially a religious person
such as a Daoist cultivator or a Buddhist monk) decides to enter the common realm / enter society.
红尘 (hong2 chen2), literally “red dust”, means “human society”, where worldly affairs occur.
Chapter 32: Carved Lock (IV)
Luomei Street was the busiest street in Wolong Xian Cheng. Both sides of the street were lined with
red plum trees. Every winter, especially on snowy days, the crimson plum blossom leaves would
drift onto the white ground and dot the whole street like stars in the sky. The scene was famed
across Wolong County for its beauty, and thus the street had been named Luomei: Falling Plum
Blossoms.
The street held inns, pawn shops, restaurants, and wine halls –– as well as all sorts of other
businesses, including a handful of textile merchants, who were squeezed among shops selling
accessories and makeup.
Xue Xian was a piece of work. He stayed coiled on Xuanmin's wrist and did not want others to see
him, yet also refused to let the monk cover him with his sleeve, instead insisting that Xuanmin fold
his sleeve just so –– allowing him to stick out his head. Soon, though, Xue Xian’s fidgeting had
caused the sleeve to become undone, forcing Xuanmin to fix it again.
What kind of madman walked down a busy thoroughfare while constantly picking at his own sleeve?
At first, Xuanmin had actually heeded Xue Xian's words, but it only encouraged his bad behavior.
Finally, Xuanmin glared at him, shook his sleeve loose, and covered Xue Xian entirely. No matter
how much Xue Xian squirmed beneath the cloth, Xuanmin did not let him out.
Furious, Xue Xian sulked motionless in the dark, then wordlessly bit each of the monk's fingers from
the thumb to the pinky, the last of which he bit down on and refused to let go.
Xuanmin twitched his finger a couple of times, but Xue Xian did not budge. He gave up and
continued walking, as though he were not the one being bitten.
When we say that Xue Xian had a short temper, it isn't completely accurate. Indeed he was quick to
anger, and when he did become angry he would explode without restraint –– and he was generally a
straightforward, unscrupulous person. But that didn't mean that any little thing could trigger his
rage.
All of that mischief was purely to annoy Xuanmin.
At first, it was because Xuanmin had captured Xue Xian, which had been a severe blow to Xue
Xian’s pride, so of course he’d needed to get back at Xuanmin in whatever way he could. But
annoying Xuanmin quickly became a habit, so that if Xue Xian went some time without doing
anything, he would feel weird about it. After all the peril they'd endured together, he no longer
felt such animosity toward Xuanmin, and yet he could not fight the urge to harass him from time to
time.
It was probably because Xuanmin was just too calm –– Xue Xian had never met anyone like him. He
had to constantly wheedle Xuanmin, to see if he could find out what the bald donkey looked like
when he lost his peaceful, cool composure.
He was simply bored, and liked to trouble the bald donkey to pass the time –– that was how Xue
Xian saw it.
In reality, even this small, perfunctory amount of introspection was unprecedented on Xue Xian’s
part. This zuzong had never tried to figure out his own motivations before, since, normally, it was
one of two things: boredom or hunger. [a]
Perhaps Xue Xian really was just hungry. Lazily, he hung his head and let it swing lightly to the
rhythm of Xuanmin's steps. He said, "Bald donkey, you still owe me a meal."
Xuanmin was not about to start talking to himself in the middle of the street, so he ignored Xue
Xian.
But this niezhang actually stopped biting Xuanmin's finger and began to climb up Xuanmin’s sleeve
with his claws, finally stopping near the shoulder. "Can you hear me? If not, I'll come to your ear."
Xuanmin: “...”
Xue Xian's claws had indeed softened considerably, just like the scales on his back. As he hooked his
way up Xuanmin's arm, it did not hurt at all –- though it did tickle a bit. When Xue Xian stayed put,
it was fine, but when he began to scamper... Well, it was annoying.
Xuanmin frowned. The fingers hidden beneath his sleeve twitched, and he grabbed onto the end of
the niezhang’s disobedient tail, yanking him back.
As Xue Xian was dragged away, he made sure to sink his claws into the monk's arm so that he left a
long, dull scratch.
Xuanmin: “...”
Xuanmin frowned harder. He gave in and asked Xue Xian, "Why do I owe you?"
A group of townspeople happened to pass by and gave Xuanmin a strange look, probably wondering
what was wrong with this muttering monk. But Xuanmin shot them a cold glare, and they hurried
along.
As Xue Xian spoke, there was a tinge of resentment in his voice. "When you burst into the Jiang
compound, you cost me a meal. That bookworm got up at wu geng to buy it for me from the
restaurant, and it took all his effort to lug it back. They were all highly famous specialties from the
restaurant. You can't get them anywhere else. We spent all that money, but before I could take a
single bite, you showed up."
Lazily, Xue Xian added in a melodious tone,
back?"
[b]
"Don't you think it's a shame? Shouldn't you pay me
It was a perfectly reasonable argument.
Was it possible to say No to this zuzong? It would send him into yet another fit of rage.
Ahead of them was a tailor shop. At that moment, a group of people streamed past Xuanmin, so he
did not dare to speak, instead only “Mn”-ing in agreement before ducking into the shop.
The owners of the shop were a middle-aged couple. The husband stood at the counter, calculating
things on an abacus, while the wife held a small portable heater in her lap as she sat in the corner,
crafting some kind of complicated decorative knot.
Xuanmin's steps were silent, and his cloudy-white monk's robes, though pristine, made him look as
though he were in mourning.
The tailoress
jolted.
[c]
glanced at the door and saw that a pure white shadow had entered. Her hands
"Aiyou, you scared me to death!" She patted her chest and looked up again, seeing that it was a
young monk. But she was still surprised, and a strange look came upon her face.
It was the middle of winter, so naturally customers frequented the shop less, and today was a
particularly murky day –– she even had heard that, earlier that day, there had been a curiously
violent tempest near the river, sending white, foamy waves crashing against the banks; and now
black clouds were returning again to cast the town in darkness, blown here by a freezing gust of
north wind... A snowstorm seemed imminent, so the pedestrians in town were all in a hurry to get
home.
The tailor shop had not made a sale all day. A customer had finally come in, and it was a monk.
A monk wasn’t a customer!
The tailoress glanced at the monk's hand.
He was not holding an alms bowl, so was not here to beg for alms.
But the tailoress still did not feel right. These years, monks had a rather special status, which had
to do with the current Guoshi––
As everyone knew, the Guoshi was a monk himself; an extremely powerful one. He was said to be
highly cunning and had the ability to modify the impact of feng shui arrays. He had also been alive
for a very long time, and no one knew his true age. All in all, he had served five emperors in a row,
and had already occupied the position of Guoshi for around a hundred years.
Commoners got to see the Guoshi only around once a year, during the annual winter solstice
heavenly ritual. A great parade would flow from the capital to the foot of Taishan [d], during which
the citizens of towns that the procession passed were able to take a tactful peek.
But the Guoshi always wore a silver mask in the form of a beast's face. His scarlet monk's robes
were wide and loose, and hid his hands and feet. They could never see his face, nor by any means
divine his age.
Someone had once solemnly claimed that the Guoshi was a yao, or some similar demon. Though one
could not see his face, hands, or feet, his neck could be seen and it was not the neck of an old
man. Elderly people could not avoid wrinkles on their neck, but although the Guoshi was more than
a hundred years old, his body had not aged accordingly. Was that not terrifying?
But others said that they had been witness to the Taishan ritual parade, and that the
Guoshi had had wrinkles on his neck. However, these were not the wrinkles of a wizened old man ––
instead, he seemed to be middle-aged.
And yet more people said that the Guoshi had long handed his title down to others, but that in
order to conceal this, they all wore that same mask.
Ultimately, it was impossible to tell which of the rumors were true or false. Common people did
not know anything about the mystical [e] and the unknown, so always regarded such things with awe
and reverence. But appearance and age weren't the only mysterious things about the Guoshi –– his
behavior was strange, too, to the point where one could not be sure if he was good or evil. There
were many rumors about this in the capital ––
Some of the rumors said that the Guoshi was under a Chan [f] oath of silence: he never spoke a
word, and was as cold as the snowy peak of a mountain. His servants were constantly afraid of him,
and never knew whether he approved of their actions. Other rumors claimed that the Guoshi
practiced the dark arts: [g] every few years, he would take in as apprentices two children who had
demonstrated innate Buddhist wisdom, [h] but they would soon disappear without a trace. In terms
of what would happen to the children, some said that the Guoshi would melt them into medicine or
some other evil act, and they claimed that the place where the Guoshi lived would intermittently
smell like fresh blood. These rumors sent chills down people's spines. Such evil was unimaginable.
No one knew where these rumors had come from. Of course, no sane person was willing to come
forward and make a formal complaint about the Guoshi, as those who had tried to oppose him in
the past had never ended up well.
Which only made people believe the rumors even more.
In addition, although the Guoshi had indeed helped the nation suppress natural disasters, each time
he did so, strange things would occur afterwards. The commoners' reverence for him came with a
healthy dose of fear –– they said he was the greatest yao-monk [i] of his time. If one day he were
truly possessed by evil, [j] no one would be able to stop him.
At this winter solstice's ritual parade, the Guoshi had not made an appearance. Already before the
festival, there had been rumors that he had encountered calamity and had been forced to seal
himself away to train. [k] No one knew what had occurred –– it could range from a small obstacle to
his life being in danger. After all, he had to be on the brink of death to shut himself away and miss
the ritual parade!
To this, the commoners secretly rejoiced.
Some decades ago, before all the rumors about the Guoshi had exploded, the incense smoke at all
the mountain temples across the land had been thick and abundant. Along with the emergence of
those temples, Buddhist monks had also begun to flood the streets. But once the rumors began to
spread, the monks came out onto the streets much less.
When people needed religious or exorcist services performed, they still had to hold their noses and
go into temples to ask a monk for help. But when things were peaceful, people did their best to
avoid monks, and wanted nothing to do with them.
But now a monk had showed up inside the shop, and the tailoress couldn't very well chase him
away. Besides, Xuanmin was blessed with a rather pleasant appearance, so as the tailoress's gaze
scanned him, her face seemed to soften. She put down the decorative knot and stood up to greet
him. "Is this shifu here to... purchase clothing?"
Inside, the tailoress thought, I didn't know monks bought their robes at tailor shops.
"Yes." Xuanmin did not elaborate. He looked around at the clothes hanging in the shop. [l]
The tailoress pressed her portable heater closer. What a cold monk! I’m trying to greet him with
warmth, but he’s lowering the temperature of the whole shop.
Her husband was of the slow kind. He rubbed his eyes, lifted his head from the abacus, and said,
"What kind of clothes would the young shifu like? Our humble shop has never made monk's robes
before, but if you need some, I am sure that we can make them overnight. All we need to do is
take the shifu’s measurements."
"No need," said Xuanmin.
The tailoress: “...” How was she supposed to do business with someone who would barely say a
word to her?
Xuanmin had clearly never stepped foot inside such a shop before. As he stood there in his stiff
white robes, he looked entirely out of place. He reached for the closest rack, full of winter
overcoats, checked the items' sizes, and tried to remember what the niezhang had looked like in his
human form. He planned to simply pick out a suitably sized coat and pay for it.
But the zuzong curled on his wrist was not happy.
"These coats are thick enough to block a hole in a city wall! If I put it on, I might as well roll around
everywhere." Xue Xian said, disgusted. "I don't want it. If you buy this, you can wear it yourself!"
He knew that they did not dare to make a commotion inside the shop, so his low voice had snaked
through Xuanmin's sleeve into the monk's ear.
Still clutching her portable heater, the tailoress observed Xuanmin for a while, then looked at the
rack of coats that he was browsing. Suddenly, she understood. "Shifu is purchasing on someone's
behalf?"
“Mn," Xuanmin said without taking his eyes away from the coats.
"Are there any special requirements or preferences?" The tailoress thought for a while, then added,
"If I may ask, what kind of person is shifu buying the clothes for? Perhaps I can help to select some
pieces."
Xuanmin's gaze now turned to a robe with an... eye-assaulting color, then recalled Xue Xian's
excitable personality. He decided to go for a quick sketch of the dragon's character: "A pheasant
who likes to chase after people in order to peck them."
The tailoress: “...”
Xue Xian: “...”
The slow tailor gazed upon Xuanmin with a pair of smiling eyes. He pointed at the garish robe. "The
robes right there might be appropriate. They are of a bright color, and make one look fresh."
The robe seemed to have a little bit of every color, as though it had been ripped from a mountain
chicken. Indeed it seemed to match Xue Xian.
Xue Xian ominously said, "If you have a death wish..."
In the end, under the bullying bites of the zuzong, Xuanmin purchased three sets of clothing. They
were all black, and about as thin as Xuanmin's own white robes. When Xuanmin placed them on the
shop counter, they created a startling contrast with his own outfit.
As the tailoress wrapped up the purchase for her customer, she could not help but feel a sense of
cold emanating from him. She hugged the portable heater closer.
Xuanmin placed some silver on the counter, and the tailoress’ mouth dropped. Clearly, this monk
had not been out of the temple much, and had no idea what things cost at market. A home in this
county only cost about twenty liang of silver –– who in the world would pay the same amount for
three sets of robes?
The tailor silently came over and weighed the silver on his scales, then told his wife how much
change in copper to return to the monk.
As Xuanmin rested his hand on the counter, Xue Xian happened to see the decorative knot that the
woman had been working on.
He studied the half-finished design for a while, then clawed at Xuanmin. While the couple were
distracted, he scampered up to Xuanmin's shoulder and said, "Pleasant surprise. Look at the knot ––
don't you think it looks just like the design on that stone lock?"
The stone lock was extremely heavy and could not be carried around. Xuanmin had therefore
borrowed some of the crude instruments in the Lu house to make a quick rubbing of the carving.
Now, Xue Xian, who had spent so long inside Xuanmin’s pouch that he’d begun to call it home,
invited himself into the pouch again and grabbed the folded-up rubbing, as well as the pile of dog
tags that they'd found in the river.
Thankfully, all of these items were very small, or else, stuffed into the pouch, they would have
weighed Xuanmin's robes down so much that his clothes would have torn.
Xuanmin took the rubbing from the pouch and compared it with the knot ––
The design on the piece of paper resembled a totem: [m] it was round, with an insect-like beast
perched on the top –– a bat or something –– and then a cloud design at the bottom.
And the half-finished knot had some major differences to that carved totem, so that at first glance
they were certainly not identical. But upon closer inspection, there were many similarities ––
although the carved beast had been outlined primitively and had a violent aura, whereas the
tailoress' version was far softer and gentler-looking.
Xue Xian and Xuanmin had never seen such a design before and had been prepared to undertake a
highly difficult investigation –– they had not expected to come across a clue so quickly.
"What is this decorative knot for?" Xuanmin said as he folded up the paper and tapped the counter.
The tailoress had just been counting up the change. "Oh," she replied. "It's a good-fortune knot for
peaceful and prosperous life."
She raised her head and saw Xuanmin's questioning look, and added, "It's unusual, right? I learned
this pattern a few years ago. I had never seen it before, either, but it really is effective. My child
wears this knot and has already avoided several disasters. But the string constantly wears down."
"Where did you learn it from?" Xuanmin asked.
"Stone Zhang's wife." Then the tailoress remembered that Xuanmin was not a local and explained,
"Stone Zhang [n] is a famous stonemason in our county. His carvings are excellent, and he is often
commissioned by laoyes from the capital. His wife is a talented craftswoman too, and likes to make
all kinds of beautiful ornaments. I learned it from her."
Stone Zhang?
Xue Xian recalled the stone lock at the bottom of the river. Stone there, stone here... that couldn't
be a coincidence.
Naturally, Xuanmin did not miss this either. He took up the wrapped clothing and his change, and
asked, "Where does Stone Zhang live?"
"If you follow this street east and turn into Hugua Alley, it's the set of doors with the pile of stone
outside it."
Stone Zhang was famous across all of Huizhou Prefecture, and many came from far and wide to
order carvings from such a skilled shifu. So the tailoress was not suspicious about Xuanmin's
question, and happily gave him the directions.
Unlike Xue Xian, Xuanmin was not hopeless with directions. He left the shop, took a handful of
turns, and soon reached Hugua Alley.
It was just as the tailoress had said: standing at the mouth of the alley, it was easy to spot the
home with a small mountain of stone piled in front of it.
Xuanmin walked to the doors and knocked.
But there was no movement behind the doors...
"Is this young shifu here for Stone Zhang?" a passing middle-aged man asked. "He's not home. I live
in the courtyard next to his. His home has been empty for half a month. No lanterns have been on,
and there's been no noise. Perhaps he's been commissioned by a laoye who lives far away again."
Then the middle-aged man mumbled, "But his wife isn't around either. Maybe she went to visit
relatives? I don't know, but in any case it's useless to knock on the door. Lots of people have showed
up in the past two weeks and have all had to go home. Why don't you come back some other time?"
He looked up at the overcast sky and hurried away, soon disappearing into a set of doors down the
street.
Xuanmin turned back to the doors and stood there, his hands hanging limply by his side.
Xue Xian twitched his claws, feeling unwell. Seeing that no one was around, he stuck his head out
of the sleeve and took a deep breath.
Xuanmin prodded Xue Xian’s pointy tail and frowned. "Why are you so hot all of a sudden?"
"I'm not just hot. I feel so swollen as well." Xue Xian's long tongue swung out of his half-open
mouth. He looked as though he were about to pass out.
This feeling was not unfamiliar to Xue Xian. The last time he had felt so hot had been in the tomb
at Gravestone Island. The result had been his return to his physical body. Now that this feeling had
come back, how could he ignore it?
Panting heavily, Xue Xian said, "Please, could you knock down the door? Or go over the wall. Stone
Zhang is hiding something in here."
Xuanmin: “...”
Xue Xian thought about it, then added, "Once you're inside, could you find an empty room to put
me in? Give me the clothes too."
Xuanmin's palm was already pressed against Stone Zhang's door, ready to push. As he heard Xue
Xian's request, he stopped and asked, "Why?"
Xue Xian laughed drily. "I feel so swollen and uncomfortable that I don't think I'm able to maintain
this form for much longer. If I don't turn into a human, then I'll have to turn into my original form
and crush half of Wolong County to pieces. And you, young monk, will become a pancake."
Xuanmin: “...”
--Xue Xian never got to find out whether he could turn Xuanmin into a pancake, for he was quickly
picked up by his tail and dangled from Xuanmin’s hand as they walked into the Zhang compound.
"If it weren’t for the fact that I'm unwell right now, I would strike you down with lightning," Xue
Xian growled.
Xue Xian really did want to brandish his claws and teeth and show Xuanmin some of his full power,
but he was too exhausted by the heat. Even his threatening words came out passive and whiny, and
his claws only convulsed weakly. The desired aggressive impact was not achieved.
Back at the river, Xuanmin had been unconscious and had not seen the majestic way that Xue Xian
had flown up into the clouds. With only the tiny dragon as a reference, Xuanmin could not detect
anything intimidating about it.
Xuanmin had planned to step into the courtyard and find a random room to put the dragon down in,
but, as he strode in, he changed his mind.
Xue Xian was so hot that he could not even say what day of the week it was anymore. His brain felt
like hot glue. He was dimly aware that Xuanmin had entered the courtyard and had stopped –– who
knew what he had seen, but he did not seem to want to move again, as though calmly waiting for
something to happen. He felt Xuanmin's pinch on his tail loosen as he was positioned back on
Xuanmin’s wrist as before.
But Xue Xian's claws were all slippery and feeble –– he couldn't even lift his head, let alone curl
tightly against Xuanmin's wrist. As soon as Xuanmin placed him around his wrist, he began to slide
down Xuanmin’s hand, without even the energy to find a foothold.
At least the temperature of Xuanmin's skin was cool. To Xue Xian, who felt as though he were about
to start breathing fire, this was a small measure of comfort.
Xue Xian slipped twice in a row before he felt himself be maneuvered into a different position ––
now Xuanmin seemed to be holding him in his palm, so that he wouldn't fall.
Humans' palms were connected to heart fire, [a] and were thus warmer than the rest of their
bodies. As Xue Xian tossed and turned, he felt that this new location was not as cooling as
Xuanmin's wrist had been. Dazed, he began to miss Xuanmin’s wrist. Summoning all of his energy,
he went off in search of another cool place, and finally managed to scramble up Xuanmin's knuckle
and wrap himself around Xuanmin’s finger.
Xue Xian’s tail swung back and forth from the little finger and his head rested against the thumb ––
five fingers, four gaps, Xue Xian had woven himself across them all, refusing to let any patch of
colder skin escape unscathed.
As the dragon's supple, scaled back slithered across Xuanmin's fingers, Xuanmin frowned and looked
down. Seeing that the zuzong was acting like he was about to die –– again –– he simply looked away
and let it be.
Stone Zhang really was a stonemason: there were even more piles of stone inside the courtyard
than outside. The irregular piles made a small circle around the inside of the courtyard, with only a
small gap by the set of doors to allow one person to pass through at a time. And the reason why
Xuanmin had stopped as soon as he'd walked into the compound was because this stone was not
ordinary stone.
Apart from a minority of incomplete carvings or scrap material, all of the blocks of stone that
surrounded them were statues of beasts. And the beasts were not ordinary animals: as Xuanmin
quickly scanned the carvings, he saw a deer-like or horse-like tianlu with a single horn on its head;
a stout, lion-like bixie, and a taoba with a thick mane and no antlers... all of the carvings were of
beasts who traditionally warded evil and repelled ghosts.
This Stone Zhang really was talented. His carving was exquisite and unnervingly lifelike. Some of
the beasts were taller than humans, and others only reached one's waist; some looked across and
others looked down; some had wide open eyes and others' eyes were half-shut –– but they all faced
the front doors. Through gaps in the beasts' paws or beyond their backs, Xuanmin could see more
sculptures in the form of other beasts such as tortoises and tiangou. Overall, the statues were piled
densely and in abundance, creating a suffocating feeling.
An ordinary person, coming across such a scene, would piss their pants.
Whether or not the structure really could ward off evil, it could definitely ward off humans.
How strange...
A stonemason relied on his craft to earn a living, so for him to pile his courtyard full of products
that showed off his skill was peculiar, but forgivable. But why had he chosen such terrifying
statues? Xuanmin studied the stone flooring beneath his feet, then reached out to touch the carved
beast closest to him ––
From the looks of the moss on the ground, these statues did not seem to have been in the courtyard
for long –– they had probably only been placed here in the last month or so. And some of them were
relatively new creations: although they had been skillfully carved, a sense of hurry could be
detected in the details.
If Stone Zhang wanted to attract customers, he would definitely not put such things in such full
view.
"Why are you just standing there?" Xue Xian grumbled. "I'm going to die..."
Xuanmin did not look at him. Instead, he prodded Xue Xian's head and said, "The courtyard contains
an array. If I just walk right in, I fear that I will not be able to find you a room at all."
"Talk if you want, but don't touch my head," Xue Xian complained in his daze. "I'm already feeling so
dizzy, stop making it worse..."
Only now did Xuanmin look down. The zuzong had not been exaggerating –– in fact, Xue Xian's skin
was so hot that it was starting to scorch Xuanmin's hand. It was good that this was Xuanmin –– if it
had been Jiang Shining or Lu Nianqi, Xue Xian would long have been dropped onto the ground with
a startled shout.
It was so hot that Xuanmin felt as though someone had poured boiling tea onto his hand, directly
onto the thinnest, most vulnerable skin in his interdigital folds.
Xuanmin thought the niezhang was handling the heat rather well, considering the intensity. He saw
that Xue Xian kept crawling to cooler parts of his skin, and was probably not feeling well at all, so
he moved his other hand over and pressed it against Xue Xian's scales too.
In his daze, Xue Xian let out a comfortable sigh. He nudged himself closer to Xuanmin's hand and
placed his head against it.
Now Xue Xian wasn't complaining about his head being touched.
Xuanmin decided to circle the courtyard and take a look at the statues.
Before he'd gone in, he hadn't noticed, but now that he'd edged closer, Xuanmin could see that,
between all of these intimidating beast statues, someone had placed small pieces of stone the size
of thumbs.
From afar, they could be mistaken for random pebbles, but they were actually minuscule stone
tiles. Indeed, the stonemasons in this region were famous not only for their exceedingly beautiful
carvings, but also because of what was known as a ‘will carve anything’ attitude. They could even
make detailed sculptures out of stone pieces as small as a fly's head.
These thumb-sized stone tiles had exquisite carvings of energetic-looking beasts' faces, with no
attention lost to the details of the beasts' earlobes and nostrils. Their eyeballs even had dots in
them representing light. And in the space beneath these beasts' faces were carved a phrase as
small as a fly's head –– Shi Gan Dang. [b]
Shi Gan Dang were a type of mystical [c] stone items that could be used to ward evil. They could
frequently be found in bad-luck corners in homes, or at the crossroads of city streets, so as to repel
misfortune. In some places, they were also called Stone Generals. [d]
Any ordinary household had these tiles placed in areas such as death doors, or rooms that had
overwhelming amounts of yin energy. But Stone Zhang's formation, with tiles littered in every nook
and cranny possible, was definitely uncommon.
All in all, there were more than twenty Shi Gan Dang squeezed into Stone Zhang's courtyard. Of the
eight cardinal directions, seven had been sealed by the Shi Gan Dang, with only one opening: the
entrance via the front doors. The reason for this went without saying. It meant:
Wherever it is you came from, please go back there.
So although the courtyard was piled full of terrifying beasts, these statues were only to
superficially scare ordinary people. Only the almost imperceptible Shi Gan Dang had any real
effect.
"Your breathing is so loud..." Xue Xian whined. Despite his state of confusion, he continued to be
unable to mind his own business.
“...” Xuanmin paused, then said, "As far as I can tell, that breathing sound is yours."
This zuzong had a real talent for shifting blame. Xuanmin did not plan to bicker with him further ––
after all, based on that horribly laborious breathing noise, this zuzong seemed to have enough to
deal with already.
Xue Xian hung his head and tried to stay quiet for a bit. Finally, he realised that that annoying,
heavy breathing sound really did come from him. The reason why he was feeling so perturbed by a
simple breathing noise was because the atmosphere in the courtyard was extremely uncanny. It felt
as though they were trapped inside the compound...
Or, someone had amplified all the courtyard’s sounds on purpose, so that they would not be able to
hear what went on inside the rooms.
As Xuanmin absent-mindedly brought his cool fingers to rub Xue Xian's head again, Xuanmin decided
not to pay attention to the distracting beast statues anymore. Instead, he studied those tiny Shi
Gan Dang.
"Indeed..." Xuanmin said.
"Indeed what..." Xue Xian truly was a strong will in a disabled body: even in his confusion, he
insisted on listening to everything around him.
"Do not worry about it. Focus on being dizzy." Xuanmin went ahead and used his finger to block the
dragon's ear, if that was, in fact, his ear.
The more the zuzong fidgeted, the hotter his body burned. Xuanmin felt as though he, too, would
burst into flames any second.
It felt as though he might really explode soon…
Dimly, Xue Xian tried to claw at Xuanmin, but couldn't reach his hand. He no longer had the energy
to make trouble.
When Xuanmin had said indeed, it was because he’d found a logic to the Shi Gan Dang. The beasts
carved onto the tiles all had different eyes: some had their eyes wide open; others' were halfclosed; and still others' were shut tightly.
They were arranged in a sequence –– from shut eyes to open eyes.
Xuanmin's hand shot to his copper coin pendant. The small gash that he'd cut into his thumb
previously began to bleed as soon as it came into contact with the coins.
It was only a tiny sliver of blood... but it caused the pendant to emit a light weng–– sound.
Xuanmin had not used this pendant for a long time. Each time he touched the coins now, an
inexplicable feeling of loathing would well up within him –– not loathing toward the pendant, that
was for sure, but he also did not know who or what the loathing was directed to. He just had the
feeling that he absolutely did not want to use the pendant unless he really had no other choice...
It had only been in the tomb beneath Gravestone Island, when he'd used his blood to awaken the
pendant, that the strange feeling had finally gone away.
As the saying goes, ‘Strangers upon first meeting, friends by the second’: then as now, Xuanmin
found that he knew exactly how to use the pendant, as though the knowledge had been etched into
his body and made impossible to forget.
Who knew how many times he had used it, for this to become so instinctive.
One by one, Xuanmin confirmed the locations of each Shi Gan Dang.
Northeast––
West––
North––
Southwest––
...
Each time Xuanmin strode in a new direction, his finger would lightly tap the copper coin pendant.
Dang––
The sound emitted by the pendant was not a drum-like sound –– it was closer to the sound of a bell,
simple and heavy.
With each ring of the pendant, the Shi Gan Dang corresponding to that cardinal direction would
shatter.
One of the shattered pieces of stone accidentally rolled into the wrong spot: it clattered into the
paw of a stone bixie the size of a man.
The bixie's half-shut eyes slowly opened. It tilted its head, and its robust chest suddenly seemed to
inflate, as though it had come to life.
And just as it raised a paw, curved its spine, and got ready to pounce––
Xuanmin walked to the next position and tapped the coins with his finger. His face remained
expressionless.
Dang––
The slow, brusque bixie suddenly stopped moving. Frozen in that position, it seemed to turn back
into stone.
After eight rings of the copper coin pendant, the Shi Gan Dang had all been destroyed.
Suddenly, wispy sounds rumbled forth –– the whole compound seemed to come alive.
The stone beasts moved automatically to create short, narrow tunnels, which led to the side room
and the main hall.
As the path cleared, a wailing sound began to emerge from the main hall.
Frowning, Xuanmin strode into the main hall.
Inside was a large stone screen covered in detailed carvings, and behind it cowered a short man
with a fat belly, who trembled as he stared back at Xuanmin.
Though his face was contorted in fear, the man seemed to be prepared –– he clutched a stout,
unusual-looking sword that looked to be made neither from bronze nor from iron, but instead
glowed ivory-white, like...
Like it was carved from a bone.
Suddenly, Xuanmin felt a blistering heat on his hand, followed by a sudden release in pressure as
the thing coiled around his fingers fell away.
A magnificent, whistle-like cry emerged from somewhere close to Xuanmin’s ear. Terrified, the
short man fell to the floor, the sword in his hand rattling and shaking.
Hong––
A massive black shadow appeared by Xuanmin's side in a burst of golden light, accompanied by a
rumble of thunder.
Next, four flashes of lightning struck down from the skies above.
Guang, guang, guang, guang, four strikes, all aimed directly at the short man –– they zipped past
him from all four sides of his body and landed by his feet, causing the man to burst into tears and
for a wet patch to appear on his crotch..
Amidst the roar of the thunder, the majestic head of a dragon sailed past Xuanmin, bringing with it
a mighty gust of wind. The dragon tilted its head at the short man. A booming voice asked, "How
dare you make a sword out of a dragon's bone?! Mn?"
Petrified, the man's eyes bulged out like a chicken’s, and he swiftly fainted.
Seeing that he had finally successfully scared someone unconscious, Xue Xian turned his head to
Xuanmin and said, "It's so cramped in here..."
Xuanmin: “…………”
Chapter 34: Stone Zhang (II)
Xuanmin had spent all day with a tiny dragon coiled around his wrist, the creature so small that he
had been able to pinch its tail with two of his fingers. In one instant, that dragon had turned into
this. Anyone would need some time to process.
As Xuanmin took in the enormous dragon's head, which alone was half as tall as him, then peered
behind the head at the body that filled the entire courtyard outside, his already blank face turned
fully slack.
Xue Xian's head did not move. He stared at Xuanmin and saw that Xuanmin’s usually composed face
was now displaying a complex, unreadable expression.
Xue Xian squinted at him, then sneered. "You’re only pretending to be calm, aren’t you?"
Xuanmin glared back. This zuzong may have changed form, but he still spoke in that same voice.
"Are your knees buckling from fear?" Xue Xian lifted a sharp claw and jabbed Xuanmin in the back.
As though jabbing him would persuade Xuanmin’s knees to genuinely buckle.
"You do not seem to have fully awoken from your slumber," Xuanmin replied mildly.
Of course there had been that brief moment of astonishment, and there had been a sense of
unfamiliarity as well, but to say that Xuanmin had been stupefied, or dumbfounded, or
flabbergasted would be nonsense. In all the years Xuanmin had been alive, he had still never
experienced such a thing as stupefaction.
As Xue Xian studied Xuanmin, he realised that he really could not find any trace of surprise on
Xuanmin’s face. Soon, Xue Xian's huge head fell upon his claw with a dong–– sound, and, spiritless,
he complained, "Bald donkey, you're so boring. I've never met anyone like you."
Having failed in scaring the person he had wanted to scare, he still hadn’t discovered what Xuanmin
looked like when taken aback; the zuzong suddenly felt dejected. Even the joy and rage from
finding another of his bones had been significantly dulled.
Idly, Xue Xian moved his claw to tap the unconscious short man. The white sword in the man's
hands seemed to feel Xue Xian approach, and fell out of the man's hand. Xue Xian nudged it back to
him.
When he discovered what had been carved onto the sword, he felt his anger return.
What the hell is this? Who would dare?!
[a]
Xue Xian was too furious to even look at the sword anymore. His claw flashed with heat and the
bone sword looked as though it had suddenly been melted by fire. It slid upwards into the palm of
Xue Xian’s claw and disappeared into the flesh, leaving only a cloud of steam that billowed slowly
into the room.
But once he'd absorbed the sword, Xue Xian felt a tinge of regret––
That heat followed his veins and slithered all the way back to his spine. The feeling was extremely
uncomfortable, and, with it, the unbearable bloatedness that had temporarily abated returned
with a vengeance.
But this time, Xue Xian’s head was far too large. He could neither toss nor turn, nor could he edge
closer to Xuanmin's hand to cool himself down.
He tried to fight it, then gave up wordlessly and began to squirm his upper body.
In the blink of an eye, Xuanmin suddenly felt that every conceivable part of his body was being
compressed against this zuzong's –– Xue Xian was folding himself around Xuanmin, bringing Xuanmin
into the fold.
"Why are you rubbing against me?" Xuanmin asked.
Condescendingly, Xue Xian glanced at Xuanmin, then turned his face away again. "Help me cool
down. If I burn up, I'll be taking you with me too."
It had been tolerable when Xue Xian had only been a small creature, since the scorching pain had
only affected Xuanmin's hand, but now that the zuzong was as big as a house and twisted tightly
around his whole body, Xuanmin felt as though he were wearing seven or eight layers of overcoats,
and surrounded by fireplaces, and with a mattress pressing down on top of it all...
Basically, the feeling was unbearable.
Xuanmin's gaze fell upon the wrapped clothes that he still clutched in his hand, and Xue Xian
happened to notice them too.
Xuanmin: “...”
Xue Xian: “...”
Being naked is great!
Xue Xian rested his sprawling head and thought about it happily. Before, he had been too confused
to pay much attention –– all he'd wanted had been to feel something cold against his skin, and the
respite had felt like grasping just the right straw. [b] He hadn't had the energy to worry about
whether or not he'd been wearing clothes –– in any case, he hadn’t been in human form. But now...
Who gives a fuck? It's hot, and I'm not human, Xue Xian thought to himself. No longer bothered, he
nuzzled up against Xuanmin again.
Xuanmin: “...”
Just because Xue Xian had spent six months hanging out among humankind did not mean that he
had learned how to be human. Dragons may be divine, but they are ultimately still beasts. Xue Xian
thus had an innate, very straightforward sense of self-indulgence –– if he was hot, then he needed
to get cool. Everything else came after.
Xue Xian felt highly self-satisfied. But then he caught a glimpse of Xuanmin again.
There it was again! If Xue Xian was not hallucinating, there was another flash of that unnatural
expression across Xuanmin's face, so fast that Xue Xian would have missed it if he'd blinked. Next,
Xuanmin frowned...
Frown...
The bald donkey didn't have a very wide range of expressions. If he touched something dirty, he
frowned; and if he encountered an annoying person or an inconvenient situation, he also liked to
frown...
Basically, anything short of absolute abhorrence was met with a frown.
Suddenly, Xue Xian felt woozy again. The feeling was akin to a string of tiny spiders scuttling out of
his chest in a neat queue, sinking their prickly legs into him.
And with it, that raging, boiling heat seemed to quickly die down –– it was no longer as unbearable
as it had been just a second ago. Xue Xian loosened his grip on Xuanmin, giving Xuanmin some
space to breathe again.
Xue Xian’s unexpected act of magnanimity and self-consciousness was intriguing to Xuanmin, who
wasn’t used to it, but then he discovered that the zuzong had begun to take notice of the
unconscious short man on the floor.
Perhaps it was because this body’s immense size bestowed a natural sense of oppressiveness, or
perhaps it was because dragons' faces could not show emotions as well, but now that Xue Xian
presented himself seriously, instead of coiling himself around people’s ands, he emanated an
alienating aura, one that repelled others.
He did now look far more like a dragon.
“Not hot anymore?" Xuanmin asked mildly. Then, as he hated to speak, he immediately brought the
topic back to the matter at hand: "There is no other movement in the room. I think he is the only
one here. But he fainted, so we cannot speak to him."
“Mn,” Xue Xian said. Without another word, he summoned another rumble of intense thunder,
which he sent to land on the patch of floor between the man's legs. The entire ground shook, then
split open, sending cracks running all across the floor.
With that, the man spasmed, then woke up screaming. "Mercy, mercy! –– I'm only a common
stonemason, I already did everything you asked me to do, I won't tell anyone, but please don't kill
me, I––"
The short man was none other than Stone Zhang.
He hadn’t even opened his eyes before he’d begun to beg, his words erupting out of him like
firecrackers –– it seemed that he had prepared the speech a long time ago.
But when he came back to his senses and saw that a real live black dragon was staring down at him,
he suddenly trailed off and forced himself to come to a stop. His face turned green from the effort
of swallowing down his words.
"Don't stop. Keep talking." Xue Xian's tone was as cold as a winter river.
[c]
As he spoke, yet another bolt of thunder came down from the heavens. The white lightning stopped
in its tracks halfway down, hovering directly above Stone Zhang's head.
Terror-stricken, the short man knew not to delay anymore. "I, I, I was speaking nonsense, none of
that was directed at you! I was simply being chased by moneylenders to repay debts for several
months I had no choice but to lock myself in my house and I learned how to activate a simple array
from a Daoist I only wanted to avoid a terrible disaster and buy myself some more time I only hope
that this daxian [d] will show some mercy and let me go!"
“Do you take me for a fool?" Xue Xian sneered. "Who uses an array to avoid moneylenders?"
Stone Zhang quivered all over, afraid to respond.
"Let me ask you this. The dragon bone that you had been using as a sword. Where did it come
from?" Xuanmin suddenly asked, reminding Xue Xian of the topic at hand.
"Dragon bone?" Stone Zhang appeared genuinely shocked. He repeated, "Dragon bone?"
He met Xue Xian's eyes, and seemed to want to piss again.
To think that I had somehow, in all ignorance, managed to take a real piece of dragon bone home,
and had even worked on it, had shaved it down into the shape of a sword and carved designs on
it...
Oh ancestors... I’m going to die for this!
As Stone Zhang's eyes rolled to the back of his head and he felt himself become faint again, he
heard a cold word of warning: "If you close your eyes now, don't assume you'll ever open them
again."
Stone Zhang: “...”
His face contorted tragically as he whimpered, "I didn't know that was... I –– I've always been a bit
different from the norm, sometimes I can see things others can't. That day I saw a glint of light in
the mud, so –– so I couldn't help but dig, and dug up that bone. I thought it looked special and was
probably some kind of magical item, so I took it home. They say that good weapons can ward evil,
so I... so I turned it into a sword to buy myself some peace..."
As Xue Xian glared at him, Stone Zhang trembled harder and his voice trailed off to nothing again.
"Where did you find it?"
Stone Zhang said, "A –– a mountain by the river."
"Do we have to squeeze it out of you sentence by sentence?" Xue Xian was about to lose his temper.
"Do you want me to help trigger your memory?"
"No, no, no, thank you for the offer..." Stone Zhang stammered, close to tears. "I was led there by
some people, and was blindfolded all the way. They only took it off when we arrived. The mountain
didn't have a sign, so I really don't know where it is. I only remember that I could see the river from
it. The stream was narrow and coarse, and the sound of the current was scarily loud."
Furious, Xue Xian tilted his head, and the bolt of lightning hanging above Stone Zhang's head came
cascading down, striking the ground beneath his feet.
Shaken, Stone Zhang stood as stiff as a board as tears began to stream down his face.
"What were you brought there to do?" Xuanmin asked.
The blood drained from Stone Zhang's face. "They made me carve seven stone locks and two tomb
guardians."
Xuanmin nodded understandingly. From his pouch, he extracted a thin sheet of paper and shook it
out in front of the man. "You carved this design?"
"Yes yes! That's what they made me carve. As I was carving, I felt that this design seemed to have
some magic [e] to it. I asked about it and they said it was a good-fortune design, and that it was
extraordinarily effective. But, dashi, where did you get it from?"
"Your stone lock," Xuanmin said. "At the bottom of the river. Do you know who the corpses attached
were?"
"Corpses?" Stone Zhang seemed to have no idea what the stone locks he'd made had to do with
corpses. Panicked, he shook his head. "I –– I don't know. I only carved some stuff. When that man
came to see me, he only said that my carvings are the most effective conduits for spells. [e] I
thought some laoye from outside the prefecture wanted me to make him something decorative. I
had no idea..."
Stone Zhang paused, then added, "Overall, my life has not been peaceful recently. I think someone
is trying to kill me. I've never done anything to harm anyone in my life, but I recalled that one
strange commission. So... so that's why I'm hiding."
Xue Xian stared at Stone Zhang until he began shivering again, then coldly said, "Did the person who
took you to the mountain leave you with anything?"
"Thing? What thing?"
"Any object. As long as that person touched it," Xue Xian said.
Stone Zhang was about to shake his head when he suddenly slapped his thigh. "Oh, right! Yes!"
“What?"
“The black cloth they used to blindfold me. I still have it! I didn't dare to throw it out.." Stone
Zhang said.
Xue Xian scoffed. "Good."
Stone Zhang stumbled into the inner room and returned with a piece of black cloth that had been
put away for who knew how long, and never washed.
Xuanmin scowled with disgust. He planned to find something to wrap his hand with so that he could
take the cloth.
Seeing him frown, Xue Xian reached out matter-of-factly with his claw and grabbed the cloth
himself.
Stunned, Xuanmin stared back at him.
Xue Xian did not return his gaze. Instead, he simply said, "Let's go."
“...” Xuanmin paused. "Where?"
"Heaven," Xue Xian snapped. Then he turned to Stone Zhang. "Stop shaking. Come with me for a
bit."
Xuanmin said, "If I'm guessing correctly, you plan to return to the Lu compound? Is this how you will
go?"
His gaze scanned Xue Xian's enormous dragon body.
Xue Xian: “...”
He had been so furious that he really had been about to go out like this.
But he was unable to turn back into a small dragon again –– his muscles and bones were still too
bloated, and he could not maintain the shrunken form for long. His only other option was his human
form.
Xuanmin lifted his hand, showing Xue Xian the package of robes he’d bought.
Xue Xian yanked the package over. But then his face dropped –– now this was the problem: his
massive body wouldn't fit into a private room, so how the fuck was he supposed to get changed?
The heavens must be jealous of how handsome he was, or else why would they constantly do this to
him…
Chapter 35: Stone Zhang (III)
Having had a unique lifestyle and divine status for most of his life, Xue Xian was an extremely
dignified dragon –– or so he thought.
The term ‘dignified’ had a fluid meaning to him –– sometimes, he allowed himself to give up his
dignity: for instance, when he sat on Xuanmin's hand, or when he ordered Jiang Shining around, or
when he spent Xuanmin's money. But in other situations, he would rather die than put aside his
pride, such as when it concerned the beauty and majesty of his outer appearance.
If Xue Xian had the full use of his limbs and his body was restored to its glory from head to tail,
then others could look as long as they wanted. It was no big deal; he thought he cut a nice figure.
Besides, he wasn't human, so he did not feel embarrassed about petty things like changing his
clothes.
But, right now, Xue Xian was half-paralysed, and not nimble at all. If he had to be naked, that was
fine, but he could not under any circumstances allow the bald donkey to see him. It would be far
too painful.
Basically, even imagining the scene made Xue Xian cringe. Make him get naked in this state? You
might as well hang him right then and there.
With a blank expression on his face, Xue Xian glared at Stone Zhang and said, "Please, if you don't
mind, could you temporarily kick the bucket?"
Stone Zhang: “...” If I kick the bucket, I'll be dead. What do you mean, temporarily?
But the zuzong did not care. Without another word, he summoned a storm cloud from the heavens
and, before anyone could react, sent down two shafts of lightning. Terrified, Stone Zhang's legs
shot out from under him and his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he fainted.
This Stone Zhang had the courage of a sparrow –– so quick to cry or to faint. But Xuanmin was not
the same...
Xue Xian glared darkly at him. "Tell me. How can I get you to faint? Shall I try a bit of everything?"
Xuanmin: “...” This niezhang was being unreasonable again.
The easiest way to make a human pass out was to thump them on the back of the head. Raising his
claw, Xue Xian studied Xuanmin’s head and tried to estimate where he needed to strike, without a
care for any consequences he might incur.
Xuanmin glanced at that short, stubby claw and pushed it away. Calmly, he said, "Junzi must
conceal their swords and obscure their weapons."
Translated into words that made sense, it meant: Stop swinging that damn claw around.
Xue Xian scoffed. Mind your own business!
But he did abandon that idea. Indeed, with Xue Xian’s current large size, it was hard to precisely
calculate the strength required to perform tasks. If he lost control of his claw, then this day next
year he would have to come visit the bald donkey's grave.
Although Xue Xian was in a bad mood and became irritated every time he saw the bald donkey, that
didn't mean he wanted to kill him.
Without a way to make the bald donkey pass out, Xue Xian was deeply irked. He gave up trying to
engage Xuanmin and turned around. He summoned a mass of clouds and, soon, humid white fog
quickly clustered around Xuanmin, wrapping him up tightly and obscuring everything in his line of
sight.
With a swipe of his claw, Xue Xian tore the packaging off the bundle of clothing. Next, his immense
body was encased in a flash of white light. The light was normally eye-piercing, but from Xuanmin's
point of view inside his cloud cocoon, he saw only a warm glow.
Within the white light, Xue Xian’s silhouette transformed into that of a human. As a dragon, he was
an extremely powerful being –– although he had not yet fully recovered his physical body, he could
still perform magic. [a] So despite being half-paralysed, putting on clothes was not a problem. When
the white light slowly began to wane, he was already almost done getting dressed.
Initially, Xuanmin had planned to see if the niezhang needed any help with his clothes, but having
seen Xue Xian's manner, he’d then assumed not. Standing inside the rather frosty and cold mist,
watching that dying white light, Xuanmin stayed calm. He was not in a rush: he stood there quietly
and waited.
But fog doesn't stay substantial for long. At first, it had formed a tight, opaque shell around
Xuanmin, but by now it had become a thin and translucent sheet, and was slowly dissolving away.
When the fog had dissipated enough for Xuanmin to see his surroundings again, Xue Xian happened
to be wrapping that loose, cloud-like new robe around his body. In one swift motion, his lean waist,
slim belly, and –– appearing for an instant with the stretching movement of his arms –– the shapely
bone of his flexed shoulder were all absorbed into the darkness of the robe.
The design of the robe was extremely basic: it looked plain, with not a hint of extra color or
decoration. It stood in high contrast to Xue Xian's daily troublesome behavior.
But it was exactly the kind of thing he liked to wear.
His ink-black collar set off a slip of white neck –– his skin was so pale that he looked almost to be
ill. [b] When Xue Xian’s face was calm –– such as now –– unperturbed by a smile or a scowl, those
black eyes were always lazily half-closed, condensing with his eyelashes into two straight lines like
brushstrokes: graceful, but somehow intimidating.
Perhaps it was the unnerving pallor of Xue Xian's bare skin, or perhaps it was the coldness of his
expressionless face caught in profile, but he was so different from the grinning man that Xuanmin
had seen sitting atop the wall in Liu-shiye's compound... Seeing Xue Xian’s form, Xuanmin faltered.
But soon, the niezhang began to act up again.
Those black eyes swivelled around and saw that the fog had dissipated. With a casual sweep of his
hand, Xue Xian buttoned his robe and haphazardly tied it. Then he nonchalantly procured a black
ribbon from somewhere and, holding it with his teeth, he quickly combed his hair and tied it with
the ribbon.
As Xue Xian's hands fell, he summoned another gust of wind to lift himself up. He flipped back,
letting those black robes billow and then settle. Soon, he had used the wind to bring a wooden
chair over and had settled in with a sigh.
What was the point of this pretense? Did he really think others would forget that he was halfparalysed?
Xuanmin: “...”
Xue Xian idly tapped the arms of the chair. "Can we go now?"
"Mn." Xuanmin glanced at him and took a step forward, seemingly about to reach out his hand and
offer help.
Startled, Xue Xian slapped the chair again and backed away. There was an ear-splitting grinding
noise as the wood of the chair grated against the stone flooring. Staring at Xuanmin, he said, "What
are you doing?"
Xuanmin's hands fell to his side. "How else do you plan to go back? Can you walk? Can you fly?"
I can fly, actually, thank you very much! Xue Xian grumbled in his thoughts.
But he did not say it, because, indeed, he could not summon winds for himself to glide around on in
broad daylight –– it would scare, well, the living daylights out of the townspeople.
As Xue Xian sulked, the bald donkey insisted on pouring oil into the fire and insulted him further:
"Or perhaps... you plan to do as you just did: stay inside the chair and hop back, step by step?"
Xue Xian: “...” Why did I stop myself earlier? I should have just killed him, and then the bald
donkey wouldn't be here provoking me with every word. And he acts so haughty and serious... Fuck
off!
Finally, his face set, Xue Xian said, "Fine. If I may trouble you for a favor... Could you turn around
and squat down, so you can carry––"
Xue Xian had wanted to say Carry me on your back, but Xuanmin was already striding smoothly
toward him, putting one hand behind Xue Xian’s neck and the other beneath his knees, and
delicately picking Xue Xian up in his arms. All this Xuanmin did as nonchalantly as if he'd simply
found a fallen leaf on the street, and was not carrying a full-grown man.
As Xuanmin straightened his back, he said calmly, "This monk does not squat or kneel. When I walk,
I do not bend my back."
Xue Xian wanted to spit his intestines out at him. "What the hell? You were perfectly happy to squat
down when you shovelled me with a piece of scrap metal at the Jiang family compound!"
But now that his whole body was captive in the bald donkey's arms, Xue Xian could not move
around at all without risking falling face-first on the ground –– and then he really would die of
humiliation. As Xue Xian suppressed his temper, it was a miracle he didn't choke to death. He
looked down at himself and cringed at how weak and frail he looked –– not majestic at all.
The niezhang’s eyeballs swivelled as he concocted a plan.
He picked up the bundle of clothes, took out another black robe, and used it to cover himself from
head to toe.
When you have no choice but to humiliate yourself, remember one thing –– hide your face.
With his already all-black outfit and now entirely covered with another layer of black, the niezhang
sat stiff as a board in Xuanmin's arms, as though he had just eked out his last breath.
“...” Xuanmin had to admire him for that.
The zuzong lay there for a while, pretending to be dead, then suddenly remembered Stone Zhang.
A ghastly pale hand shot out from beneath the black drapes and beckoned. Subsequently, a bolt of
thunder loud enough to wake everyone in a ten li radius boomed by Stone Zhang's ear and yanked
the man awake.
Grimacing tragically, Stone Zhang clambered up and slithered obediently to Xuanmin's side, but was
so terrified upon seeing the body in Xuanmin's arms that he began to tremble again.
Xue Xian's muffled voice came out from beneath the drape: "We're all set. Let's go."
Xuanmin shook his head, but strode out into the courtyard.
One had to admit, the zuzong’s idea was indeed effective. As they walked back to the Lu
compound, not a single passerby dared to look in Xuanmin's general direction. As soon as they
glimpsed some dead person in the monk's arms, they would turn their heads away and hurry as far
away as they could, looking deeply unhappy.
By the time the two men and one corpse stepped back into the Lu compound, the sky had darkened
above them. Jiang Shining happened to be walking out of the kitchen and jumped when he saw the
body that Xuanmin was carrying. He had known Xue Xian for a bit longer than Xuanmin had, and the
bookworm was generally a rather attentive person, so he quickly recognised Xue Xian's claw hanging
out of the drape.
The lantern Jiang Shining held in his hand trembled –– he almost threw the object to the side to
come running over. Thankfully, Xuanmin quickly explained, "He's alive and well. Only pretending to
be dead."
“... What drama is he having now?" Jiang Shining said.
Xuanmin did not reply. Instead, he walked into the living room and put the zuzong down on a chair
by the table.
It was only then that Xue Xian removed the cloth from his face and took a deep breath. "So stuffy,"
he complained.
Jiang Shining slammed the lantern onto the table in a huff. "You did that to yourself. You deserve
it."
Then Jiang Shining’s eyeballs swivelled and looked anxiously at Stone Zhang. "And this is..."
Startled by those lifeless eyes, Stone Zhang stammered, "I'm just a stonemason. You can call me
Lao-Zhang or Stone Zhang."
Xue Xian pointed at the stone lock that they had leant against the wall. "You made this, right?"
Stone Zhang recognised it immediately. He nodded. "Yes, yes, yes. Indeed that came from my hand.
I can tell with one look."
"So... it's like this." Xue Xian gestured at Jiang Shining as he explained, "He's met the person
responsible for the tomb at Gravestone Island, and he even has an item that that person touched,
or at least someone who works for that person. When that Lu Nianqi kid wakes up, we'll ask him to
take a look, see if any clues come up."
"Lu Nianqi?" Jiang Shining paused, then realised what Xue Xian meant. "Are you sure he has that
ability too?"
Xue Xian nodded. "Most likely."
Sitting back in his chair, Xue Xian idly teased the lantern flame with his hand. Suddenly, he slapped
the table. "Right! I almost forgot."
Both Jiang Shining and Stone Zhang jumped at the sound, then turned to Xue Xian, waiting for him
to explain. But all the zuzong did was glare at Xuanmin and say, "Where's the food you owe me?"
Jiang Shining: “...” What the hell?
Stone Zhang: “...” Oh mama, scared me to death.
Xuanmin stared back at Xue Xian,
[c] then
walked out of the room.
A short while later, [d] he stepped back inside carrying a box of food –– as he walked, he glided as
light as a cloud, as though what he held was not food but the Buddha's own lotus.
Jiang Shining took a look at Xuanmin, then glanced back at Xue Xian, who was languishing in his
chair. Jiang Shining silently turned his face away.
There were four levels to the box, filled with six different dishes and a stack of crispy cakes.
Xue Xian took a look. The china plates were still flush with warmth, and the dishes gleamed
colorfully. Laid out on the table, the meal looked beautiful and emitted a delicious smell –– indeed
extremely appetising. And yet...
And... yet...
Not a single chunk of meat could be found on the whole table. It was all vegetarian!
It! was! all! vegetarian!
When have you ever heard of a dragon munching grass?!
Xue Xian rolled his eyes and knocked his head against the table in anger. Then he looked up at
Xuanmin hatefully, suddenly remembering all the things the bald donkey had ever done to wrong
him.
Although Xuanmin did not have all of his memories, his habits were still the same as before his
amnesia. It seemed that in the past, he did not eat meat –– or perhaps he did not eat anything at
all, which would explain why he seemed so healthy and well despite not having been seen eating
anything for days now. The point was, if you asked him to buy the food, you would not be getting
meat. In the end, Jiang Shining had to go out again and bring back a few more dishes in order to
satisfy Xue Xian's idea of a meal.
…
Apart from that day eight years ago, Lu Nianqi had never been through such a traumatic
experience.
He slept for seven days straight as his fever attacked and retreated over and over. Sometimes, in
his confusion, he would let out fragments of words in the middle of the night, saying "Dad," or
"Shijiu," as if in refusing to open his eyes, he could make all the tragic events disappear –– and
those that had left him would stay quietly by his bed, waiting for him to wake up...
On the seventh night, as the nightwatchman’s gong rang outside, Lu Nianqi's finger twitched and he
awoke.
His eyes were still bloodshot with fever, and under the light of the lantern, there was a glowing
layer of moisture across his eyes, as though they were brimming with tears.
"You're awake?" Jiang Shining happened to be replacing the oil in the room’s lantern, and saw that
the boy had woken up. "Are you thirsty?"
He called out to the living room, then came to the bed and removed the hot, medicine-soaked
towel from Nianqi's forehead.
The ghost's body was unnervingly cold, and as his hand touched Nianqi's face, Jiang Shining saw that
the boy trembled, shaking loose those puddles of moisture in his eyes, which ran down his face and
onto the pillow. "Is today... touqi [e]..." Lu Nianqi mumbled.
Jiang Shining faltered, then nodded. "Yes. The final night."
Mute, Lu Nianqi rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. Then he pushed his blanket aside and
sat up. "Is he still here? I want to be with him for the last night."
Jiang Shining wasn't sure if it was just him, but he felt as though, after this seven-day slumber,
even Lu Nianqi’s manner of speaking was closer to that of Lu Shijiu. And as the boy climbed out of
bed, Jiang Shining saw that his premonition had been correct: Lu Nianqi's slight frame had grown by
multiple cun in the past week, so that instead of looking to be about seven or eight years old, he
now looked twelve.
Lu Nianqi staggered out of his bedroom and weakly nodded in greeting at the group gathered in the
living room. Jiang Shining guided him to the second bedroom, and, once inside, he shut the door,
refusing to come out for the rest of the night.
That night, not a single sound came out from the room: not the sound of weeping, nor that of
talking.
When Lu Nianqi had said Be with him, he really had meant being with him. Silently, he kept Lu
Shijiu company: neither overly kind nor excessively clingy, just as he had been when Lu Shijiu was
alive.
The next morning, a pale-faced Lu Nianqi walked out of the room, holding the bundle of sticks that
Shijiu had left him. His black eyes fell upon Stone Zhang and he gazed at the man for a long time,
then slowly said, "Please, sir, could I ask you to make me two wooden tiles?"
Although Stone Zhang was a stonemason by profession, he also knew his way around wood, but was
nowhere near as talented with it.
Stone Zhang paused, surprised, then nodded.
"Don't just nod," Xue Xian piped up. "He can't see."
Shocked, Stone Zhang studied the boy's eyes. Afraid to say anything else, he replied, "Of course."
In all the years Stone Zhang had spent in Wolong County, he had met the Lu family a few times.
They had never been close, but Stone Zhang could say he knew them. When he heard Lu Nianqi's
words, he immediately knew what the boy was requesting. Stone Zhang was an expert craftsman,
and wood was easier to carve than stone. In no time, he was able to whittle two grave tiles and
decorate them with motifs on both sides.
"What should I write?" Stone Zhang asked.
"On one of them, write, Here lies my late father, Lu Yuan."
Stone Zhang did so. He first outlined the text, then carefully carved them in. When he finished, he
blew the sawdust away from the tile and said, "And the other?"
Lu Nianqi fell silent.
What to write on the other tile? The full name? Shijiu had been too young, and had not had the
chance to receive a proper full name. There was nothing to carve. And Shijiu was only a casual
nickname: there were tens of thousands of Shijius in the world. If they all just reported that name
in the afterlife, Yama, the King of Hell, would likely not be able to tell them apart. Besides, Lu
Nianqi did not want to write Shijiu's name down –– he felt as though, with the stroke of that brush,
his aloof and distant brother, his brother who had given his life in exchange for Lu Nianqi’s, would
truly be gone.
"Never mind. Leave the other one blank. Don't write anything," Lu Nianqi said suddenly. He took the
tiles from Stone Zhang and found a piece of cloth from the closet. Refusing any help, he collected
some clothing and wrapped them up in the cloth, together with the tiles, tying a tight knot.
Next, clutching the bundle, he sat down by the table. He gestured at Xue Xian while holding the
bundle of sticks. "I know what you're planning,” he said. “I've known since I opened my eyes. I'll tell
your fortune on Shijiu's behalf, but I fear I may not be as skilled as he was. I only have one request
for you. Please bury Shijiu."
Although Lu Nianqi hated to depend on others, a burial was not something a half-blind boy could do
by himself.
"Consider it done," Xue Xian replied.
[g]
The black cloth that Stone Zhang had coughed up had been kept in Xuanmin's pouch the whole
time. Now, it was taken out and laid out across the table for Lu Nianqi to divine.
With his glazed-over eyes, Lu Nianqi inspected the cloth. He sprayed a fine layer of dust onto the
surface of the table and began to sweep his sticks across it. From his movements down to his very
manner, he was exactly like Lu Shijiu had been, as though both souls resided in that same single
body.
When the sticks stopped moving, Lu Nianqi hovered a hand over the dust and frowned in
concentration. Then he said, "I'm not as good at this as Shijiu. I can see that this person is currently
by the river. I can sort of see what it looks like, but I don't know where it is. But I think I'd
recognise the place if I went there."
He cleared the dust and tried again, but the result was the same.
Lu Nianqi did not seem surprised by this result. He patted his cloth bundle and said, "If you don't
mind being burdened with me, I'd like to come with you."
Indeed, there was no longer any living person left for him in Wolong County. Without family, his
roots were gone, and there was nothing keeping him there anymore.
Naturally, the group was happy to have such a useful soothsayer accompany them. They had
already stayed in Wolong County for a very long time and had no reason to linger, so as the sun rose
in the sky, they went to bury Shijiu next to his father Lu Yuan.
Lu Nianqi knelt down and kowtowed three times in front of each grave. Then, he calmly dusted
himself off and, with the grave tiles in his bundle, departed with Xuanmin and the others.
By the time the group got onto a ferry to cross the river, the sky had darkened again and it had
begun to snow.
As the blur of soft, light snow fell, half of it fell on that fresh, nameless grave on the mountain and
half of it fell on the awning of their boat; half in the yellow springs of the afterlife and half in the
red dust of the living realm. It was as though the snowfall were bidding a quiet farewell to that
nameless ghost and the travellers both.
How do you tell someone you miss them, that you can't let them go? Perhaps the most tender way
is to say, You're gone, but it's okay, I will become you, I will take you with me.
Time was no longer a concern. Regardless of the season or the year, they would remain together,
to walk every path, to cross every river…
Act III: No Horizon
Chapter 36: Theatre Troupe (I)
Anqing Prefecture and Wolong County were only a river apart: on a clear and bright day, someone
in Wolong County standing on the banks of the river would be able to see the layered mountain
range across the water. On a quiet, calm day, the two regions were only a few hours apart by boat.
But as the snowstorm worsened, the river quickly became a blanket of white, and it felt as though
the only thing left in that lonely and melancholy world was their one small boat. It became
impossible to tell where they were going, and so the boat slowed.
The old boatman was a veteran professional. When Xue Xian and the others had needed to go to
Gravestone Island, it had been his boat that they'd rented. He had a kindly disposition, and seemed
to feel bad about having taken all that money from Xuanmin the other day. This time, seeing that
they again wanted to cross the water, he had only hesitated for a moment before agreeing to bring
the boat out into the blizzard.
"I have two flasks of hot wine in my bundle. If you want, you may drink some and warm yourselves
up!" the boatman said as he rowed.
"Many thanks."
Although everyone rushed to thank the boatman, only Xue Xian actually made a move.
Xuanmin did not drink, nor did he fear the cold. Jiang Shining was a ghost and could not ingest
anything. Lu Nianqi had zoned out as soon as they'd gotten onto the boat, and did not seem to be in
the mood. Stone Zhang was trembling all over from the cold, and seemed desperate to drink the
wine, but his mung-bean-like eyes only darted back and forth, and he did not dare to reach out.
Stone Zhang had not expected the group to take him along. He’d assumed that, after interrogating
him and making him carve the wooden tiles, they would simply kick him onto the curb. To his
surprise, they actually wanted him to cross the river with them –– they probably wanted him to lead
them to exactly where he had been taken by the mysterious patron.
This was not necessarily a bad thing for Stone Zhang, as, if he'd stayed in Wolong, he would have
just gone back to cowering in fear inside his compound. Who knew how long he'd been hiding there,
clutching his bone sword, before Xue Xian and Xuanmin had barged in. Now, Stone Zhang took a
surreptitious glance at Xue Xian and thought: Though this fearsome zuzong sent thunder rumbling
down on me, he does not seem intent on killing me. So although Stone Zhang remained in a
permanent state of terrified stupor when in Xue Xian’s company, there was no other real downside
to coming along with the group.
Xue Xian cradled the wine flask in his lap, but did not make a move to drink it. In reality, he was
feeling hot again, and did not need to warm himself up from the winter chill at all. He was not
holding the flask for warmth: instead, he was using it to dispel some of the heat from inside him.
Although the flask had been well-wrapped inside the boatman's cloth bundle, by the time he took it
out, they had already rowed halfway to Anqing and the wine was mostly cold.
But after some time in Xue Xian's hands, the wine began to emit a slight gurgling noise.
Apart from the ever-silent Lu Nianqi, everyone on the boat turned to stare at the flask in Xue Xian's
lap.
That wasn't warm wine anymore –– it was boiled wine!
Stone Zhang gazed longingly at the flask as his hands trembled and his neck quivered; he looked as
though he wanted to crawl inside the flask and let himself be boiled in the wine.
As the wine heated up, its fragrant smell also rose into the air, and Stone Zhang's eyes seemed
about to pop out of his head. He rubbed his palms together like a fly rubbing its legs and said,
"Ah... That wine does smell lovely. When I'm carving stone, I like to take a sip every once in a
while. With a warmth in my stomach and the rush of tipsiness, my inspiration surges forward too."
This was as good as hugging Xue Xian's legs and crying, Give me some!
Jiang Shining couldn't bear to watch anymore. He nudged Xue Xian and said, "Stop teasing him,
zuzong. He's about to shake himself off the boat."
Xue Xian shrugged and handed Stone Zhang the now furiously boiling flask of wine. He then
immediately took up the second flask and began cradling that one instead.
Stone Zhang greedily wrapped his sleeves around the flask and pressed it to his stomach. He
seemed to finally come back to life. He sputtered, "I'm finally feeling warmer. These winter chills
are no joke, especially on the river."
Xue Xian peeled the second flask away from his overheated body and handed it to Stone Zhang.
“Both for me?" Stone Zhang was shocked by the kindness.
"Are you dreaming?" Xue Xian snapped.
Before Stone Zhang could speak again, Xuanmin, who sat by the awning, took the flask and handed
it to the boatman.
Xue Xian glanced at Xuanmin and said nothing.
To Xue Xian, that glance was to show that he agreed with what Xuanmin had done. But...
Silently, Jiang Shining looked over at Xue Xian, then at Xuanmin. Maybe it was just him, but in the
past couple of days, Jiang Shining felt that he’d begun detecting something strange between the
two. [a] Or, more specifically, Xue Xian was acting strange toward Xuanmin, constantly targeting
him, as though angry at him for something –– at the same time, he seemed to be giving Xuanmin the
cold shoulder.
Of course, this zuzong was always looking for ways to annoy Xuanmin, and sometimes did
conspicuously ignore him. And yet...
Jiang Shining stared at the two for a while, then averted his gaze again and retreated into himself.
These two were both powerful, and technically both were his zuzong –– he could not afford to anger
either of them, so he decided to mind his own business.
With that, he silently shuffled away from them, closer to the edge of the boat.
Dong––
As the boat suddenly shook, Stone Zhang, who had been mid-sip, lost his balance and rammed his
elbow into the awning.
"Look at how thin these bamboo strips are, and how heavy you are. You're rocking the whole boat,"
Xue Xian said, glaring at Jiang Shining.
"That wasn't the young laoye," [b] the boatman said. He had taken a small break to drink some of
the hot wine, and now seemed much more energetic. "This patch of river is just like that –– bumpy.
Each winter and summer, there are quite a few boats that capsize here. It's not the current, but
the wind that can blow the boats apart. These past couple of years, it's gotten better. I haven't
encountered the freak wind on my trips recently, and the boat is much easier to row. But today is
weird –– it's that damn wind again."
Hearing the boatman's words, Stone Zhang jolted. This cowardly one leant closer to the boatman
and said, "But... but this boat won't flip, will it?"
Annoyed, the boatman glared at him. "The boat is running fine. How could you say such an
inauspicious thing? Of course it won't flip. I was just saying that this is a dangerous part of the river,
not that a wave was going to come up right this minute."
But then the boatman sighed and added, "Laoyes, I don't mean to complain, but I have to be
honest. The next part of the river is particularly tricky, and you might want to keep this boatman's
advice in mind. No one likes to go out on the river in this weather –– you don't live around here, so
you don't know how temperamental the river can be. Whereas we spend all day out here, and
practically live on our boats. We can tell how dangerous the water is just by the ripples. And it's
like I said, every couple of days, the river fusses. Besides––"
The boatman slowed his speech and, squinting at them, he jostled the flask in his hand. "Why would
you choose to go to Anqing Prefecture now? It's not very peaceful over there."
"Not peaceful? What do you mean?" Jiang Shining asked. His married sister lived in Anqing, so he
frowned anxiously.
"I heard another boatman talk about it the other day. He usually works on the other side of the
river." The boatman lowered his voice. "He said that, a few days ago, there was an earthquake in
Anqing, and the entire prefecture shook. Worst part is, the earthquake triggered a landslide in the
mountain, and someone said that, as their home shook, they heard a dragon coo underground."
A dragon coo...
What an unscary description. The boatman made it sound like the squeaks of a rat in someone's
walls.
"It's called a dragon's roar!" Xue Xian angrily corrected. He sat up stiffly. "But hold up. A dragon?
That person told you they heard a dragon's roar in Anqing?"
"Yeah!" The boatman nodded vigorously, as though it had been him, personally, who had heard the
roar. "Apparently, it was terrifying. They knelt down right then and there and started kowtowing.
But strangely enough, after a few kowtows, the house stopped shaking and the landslide ended. A
few people still died. But here's the weirdest part... the weirdest part is that after the tremors,
cracks appeared across town, and something crawled out. I don't know if it was insects or
something. I didn't really get that part. Basically, it's crazy over there."
Hearing this, the blood drained from Jiang Shining's face. Although, to be fair, he was a ghost, and
had never looked that lively in the first place.
After that, everyone on the boat fell into silent thought.
Another half hour later, the boatman finally docked his boat at the river port of a tiny, palm-sized
town in an unknown part of Anqing Prefecture named Wangjiang County.
The place where they'd landed was called Guanyin Port. Scattered by the riverbank were some oldlooking inns, teahouses, and wine halls. With the fierce snowstorm, they couldn't continue deeper
into Anqing –– and the group also had Xue Xian with them, who could not walk.
Jiang Shining got off the boat first and hurried to the nearest teahouse. "Is there somewhere here
where we can hire a carriage?" he asked.
"Not these days," replied a man who sat holding a cup of tea and sheltering from the snow. "With
that landslide a few days ago, the homes mostly held together, but the barns collapsed and killed a
number of horses and mules. Without them, there are of course no carriages. Besides, no one in
these parts is even hiring out their mules. Don't bother."
The man had three long, frightening scars on his face, perhaps from being attacked by some
animal. He squinted as he took a sip of hot tea, then looked back at Jiang Shining and said, "Where
are you headed?"
"Qingping County, to the north," Jiang Shining said.
The scarred man studied him, then asked, "Scholar? Are you here to visit relatives?"
Jiang Shining nodded.
The man put his tea down on the table and jutted his chin out. "And those others are with you?"
Jiang Shining turned and saw that Xuanmin was walking over, carrying the handicapped zuzong in
his arms. Back at Wolong County, Xue Xian had struggled and fidgeted the whole time, trying to
find a position where he didn't look so weak, but had been unable to find one. Now, he seemed to
have totally given up...
And beside them walked Stone Zhang — cringing into his coat — and Lu Nianqi, who was still in a
daze.
The group had an old guy, a little guy, and a yaoguai, and they all looked exhausted, like refugees
stealing away in the night. Poor dashi, Jiang Shining thought. Then he turned and clasped his hands
together in thanks to the scarred man. Jiang Shining needed to talk to Xuanmin: he wanted to
suggest that they stay at an inn for the time being, and wait out the snowstorm.
"Don't hold out hope for the snow to stop," the scarred man said, as though reading Jiang Shining’s
mind. He wiped his mouth and picked up a long cloth bundle that he'd been resting against the
table, and said, "Come with us. We're passing through Qingping County too."
We?
Jiang Shining was stunned. Then, as the scarred man stood up, Jiang Shining watched several other
customers in the teahouse stand up too –– there were eight of nine of them, men and women, old
and young.
Xuanmin had been about to cross the teahouse threshold when he overheard the scarred man's
words and asked Jiang Shining, "What is it?"
"This kind da-ge [c] says he can give us a ride," Jiang Shining explained.
The scarred man had been walking to the doorway when he noticed the black bundle in Xuanmin's
arms. He stopped and pointed. "What's underneath this cloth?"
Xuanmin said, "A person."
"Dead?" The scarred man studied that draped head and frowned. "That's an issue. We have elderly
people and children. If they see this––"
But before he could finish, Xue Xian, suddenly regretting his death act, lifted the black cloth and
said in a singsong voice, "I'm not dead. I'm alive and well."
The scarred man: “...”
Silently, Jiang Shining turned his face away. He's going to think we're insane, and then he won't let
us onboard either.
But that scarred man seemed actually to have a high tolerance for nonsense. He met Xue Xian's
eyes, then scanned Xue Xian’s pale skin and looked at Xuanmin's expressionless face. Probably
thinking that such a duo was unlikely to make any trouble, he nodded and said, "Alright, let's stop
hanging around. The snow is going to get worse soon, and then we really won't be able to go."
The scarred man's group had three horse-drawn carriages and one mule-drawn carriage.
The horse-drawn carriages were tiny, and could only fit four people at once. The mule-drawn
carriage was for their belongings.
Jiang Shining observed the carriage train. He wanted to ask the scarred man what his group did for
a living, but before he could speak, he felt a slightly warm hand land on his shoulder.
Startled, he turned to see Xuanmin standing beside him. Xue Xian was the one gripping Jiang
Shining’s shoulder.
Jiang Shining watched as the zuzong lifted the black cloth from his head to reveal a single eye
staring back. Xue Xian lifted a finger to his lips and hushed Jiang Shining. In a low voice, he said,
"Don't ask, and don't alert them. Get onto the carriage, but don't get too close to them."
Perhaps it was how hoarse Xue Xian's tone was –– close to a whisper –– but Jiang Shining somehow
felt himself begin to sweat.
Chapter 37: Theatre Troupe (II)
The scarred man had a frightening face that looked very intimidating, but he was actually very
kind. In fact, all of the people in his ragtag group were jovial, empathetic people. After a brief
conversation with the scarred man, they did not seem to mind this addition to their group at all,
and actually decided to offer Xue Xian and the others a whole carriage for themselves.
With the blizzard, it was difficult to navigate the winding mountain paths. In order to avoid anyone
getting separated, the horses were all tied together by a long rope one after the other, with the
mule at the very back.
The scarred man bundled up his face from the cold and, carrying a flask of hot wine, settled into
his seat at the front of the first carriage. He directed the rest of his group to take the wooden
stoppers away from the carriage wheels.
"We're off! Sit tight," he called out, then set the horses going.
Xue Xian and the others sat in the third carriage. It was not so difficult to fit the five of them into a
four-person carriage, especially because Jiang Shining was extremely thin and Lu Nianqi was still
the size of a child, and therefore technically only half a person. There was a decent amount of
room.
Xuanmin did not like to chat, and, apart from Xue Xian, no one dared to disturb him. Inside the
carriage, Xuanmin was given a wide berth. As for Xue Xian...
Stone Zhang feared Xue Xian as a rat feared a cat. Each time Xue Xian looked at him, he felt his
whole scalp turn numb, as if a terrifying roll of lightning could strike down upon him from the
heavens at any point.
So when they settled into the carriage, Stone Zhang, Lu Nianqi, and Jiang Shining all sat on one
side, and left the other side for the two frightening zuzong.
Xue Xian took the black robe off of his face and sat down. He looked across from him, then looked
back at where he sat. What he saw made him grin, and he said to them, "Thanks, guys."
Stone Zhang's face scrunched up in pain and he looked away. “...” There are three of us here. Why
did he have to look straight at me?
The scarred man and his companions were definitely well-travelled, and the animals appeared used
to life on the road, too –– the horses and mule only needed the scarred man at the head of the train
to point them in the right direction, and each followed steadily. It was effortless.
The carriages were also well-decorated: the windows had thick, heavy curtains nailed over them,
to block the wind.
In the middle of the carriage was a rectangular wooden table that was just the right height: tall
enough for them to stretch out their legs with room to spare for them to place their belongings. A
small shelf had been wedged into the corner of the carriage and held a lantern that they could light
at any time, as well as folded stacks of blankets –– the kind that elderly people used to drape over
their legs in the winter.
"They have everything here," Stone Zhang observed. "It seems that they travel a lot. They basically
live on the road."
Before they'd gotten on, one of the kindly old ladies had even given them a small portable heater
to help warm up the carriage, as well as another small bundle, saying, "There is some food in here,
and the carriage has wine. If you're cold, have some –– it'll help. We're taking two mountain roads
and the snow has made them slippery, so there's no guarantee we'll get to the next town before
nightfall. Don't get too hungry."
Stone Zhang had said No, no, keep it, keep it, but had all the while taken the heater tightly into his
arms, with no intention of letting it go again.
Although the carriage was better than being outside, it was still freezing cold.
As Stone Zhang warmed his stiff fingers with the heater, his eyes kept darting to the stack of
blankets in the corner. But Jiang Shining and Lu Nianqi sat between him and the blankets, so he
could not simply reach over and take them. He did not want to do anything that might cause the
two zuzongs, Xue Xian and Xuanmin, to remember that he existed.
Stone Zhang's eyes swivelled around. He turned to Lu Nianqi and said, "Take one of those blankets.
We can share it and put the heater between us, warm up our knees. What do you think?"
Lu Nianqi glanced back at him. Although disdain did not explicitly cross his face, it might as well
have. "No. I'm not cold. Just use it yourself."
Stone Zhang still didn’t want to let go of the heater, so he pointed at Lu Nianqi's hands with his
chin. "Look at how cold those hands are," he said. "Have you ever had an ulcer? In this kind of
humid, cold weather, if you don't at least stick your hands into your sleeves, you'll get an ulcer ––
and then you'll be sorry. They're swollen and itchy, and susceptible to frostbite as well. The worst is
if you get one on a joint. Each time you move your finger, you crack the ulcer and the flesh
squeezes out of it. You ––"
Lu Nianqi's scowled. He grabbed a thin blanket from the pile and dropped it over both their knees.
"Sir, please stop talking." [a]
That tone was half Lu Nianqi and half Lu Shijiu –– as though his stubborn core were wrapped up in a
skin of restraint.
But Stone Zhang didn't pay attention to that. Delighted, he made sure the blanket was wellarranged on their legs, then slipped the heater inside. In an instant, the heater had filled the
blanket with a pleasant warmth. The heat seeped into their flesh and bones and climbed up their
frozen knees –– so comfortable!
Even the angry-looking Lu Nianqi's pale face started to flush a little after a while. His finger
twitched, then he gave in and reached his hands into the blanket too.
"Ai –– there you go," Stone Zhang said. "You're much too young to be behaving this way. There's
nothing embarrassing about protecting yourself from the cold."
Lu Nianqi turned his face away and pretended that Stone Zhang’s voice was merely wind by his
ears.
"At my age, if I don't protect my knees, when I'm old, I'll be unable to walk at all." Stone Zhang
continued. He loved the sound of his own voice. Ever since they'd gotten into the carriage, he had
chattered away non-stop –– now that was a talent, too.
But as soon as he said that, he felt that something was off. He lifted his head and instantly met
eyes with Xue ‘unable to walk at all’ Xian.
Stone Zhang's mouth dropped. He shrank his neck and tried to make himself as small as he could,
then stammered, "I'll... I'll shut up. I’ll shut up."
Once Stone Zhang fell silent, Jiang Shining, who had not said a word, massaged his temple and
began to speak. "Earlier, before we got onto the carriage, you held me back and told me not to ask
anything. What did that mean? They..."
Jiang Shining instinctively looked beyond the gap in the thick curtains at the other carriages
outside. He lowered his voice and said, "Is there something wrong with them? If so, why did we get
on?"
Stone Zhang piped up again. "They aren't bandits, are they? But they gave us the heater and food.
Could they really be evil?"
Then he slapped his own mouth. "That's my last sentence. I'll really shut up now."
Lu Nianqi rolled his eyes. He was sick to death of the man, but he had acquired some of Lu Shijiu’s
calmness, and had learned to bite his tongue.
Xue Xian began to rifle through the carriage, looking for the wine that the old woman had
mentioned. As he did so, he said, "There's a taboo here, [b] so I can't really talk about it. But I took
a look earlier. The two bundles they brought into the mule carriage weren't wrapped that tightly,
and some clothing fell out."
"Oh, I saw it too," Jiang Shining said. "All patterned and colorful. Have you been to the theatre
before? They looked like theatre costumes to me."
Xue Xian found the wine flask and began to cradle it again, heating it quickly to a boil.
"This wine really does smell good," Xue Xian mumbled. Then he replied to Jiang Shining, "Why
would I watch theatre? Is theatre more interesting than me?"
Jiang Shining: “...” True. You have more drama than any troupe.
"Can I say something?" Stone Zhang asked.
"No one blocked your mouth and pulled out your tongue," Xue Xian snapped. "Cut the crap and say
what you have to say."
"When they were moving things into the carriage, I actually went and looked inside the mule
carriage," Stone Zhang said. "This young xiansheng [c] guessed right. They had all sorts of props
inside the carriage, and instruments like drums and gongs. They are performers, the travelling kind
of troupe made up of all sorts of people, who travel everywhere and don’t have a fixed home. That
man with the three scars on his face is probably the troupe leader. And I counted the rest of them.
The young and old ones are the huadan, laodan, xiaosheng, and zhengsheng. And the others
probably play the clown roles and the jing roles. [d] Put together, they can do quite a big
performance."
There was no small number of theatre troupes in Anqing Prefecture. Some were performers at wine
halls and were able to avoid trawling through rain and snow –– they did quite well for themselves.
The famous ones among them even had celebrity actors. But other troupes had no fixed venue, and
travelled far and wide setting up shows in small towns. Sometimes they'd be invited by local wine
halls for a guest performance, or else they simply set up a stage on the street to busk.
"That da-ge told me that they were also going to Qingping County," Jiang Shining said. "But if
there's a taboo, then let's not talk about it. Since you didn't stop us from getting on, then surely
there's no issue in travelling together for a while. Right?"
"As long as we don't go on roads we're not meant to go on, then it's fine," Xue Xian said.
He put the rumbling flask onto the wooden table.
Surreptitiously, Stone Zhang reached for the wine. But Xuanmin, who sat directly across from him,
suddenly twitched his finger, and Stone Zhang felt as though there was something invisible pressing
his hands down. It struck a pressure point, and his wrists went limp.
"This wine cannot be drunk," Xuanmin said coldly, without so much as a look at Stone Zhang.
"Ah?" Stunned, Stone Zhang's mind began to fill with questions as he awkwardly took his hands back.
He thought for a while, then glanced at the bundle of food that the old woman had given them. "So
the food --"
"Eat it. Then there'll only be four people in this carriage, and we'll all have more room," Xue Xian
said.
Stone Zhang: “...”
Xue Xian flexed his wrists. He felt uncomfortable.
The hot feeling inside his body was still relentlessly churning within him. It wasn't as bad as when
he'd been in his small dragon form, but it was still a bother. All he could do was direct all the heat
into his hand, and then find some cold object to cool his hands off. Now that he had nowhere to
transfer the heat anymore, he began to feel irritable.
Silently staring at the ceiling, he slipped his hand beneath the wooden table and pretended to
casually rest it there. In reality, he was holding the table leg.
Soon, [e] the carriage train happened to cross a bumpy patch, jolting one side of the carriage. Jiang
Shining and the others rocked forward and unconsciously shot out their hands to steady themselves
against the table.
"Ow!" Jiang Shining hissed, tugging his hands back and blowing at them.
Stone Zhang cried out too.
Lu Nianqi only brusquely yanked his hand away and glared at Xue Xian. "If you keep touching the
table, you're going to set it on fire."
The troublemaker Xue Xian pretended not to hear and averted his gaze to stare intently at the
heavy curtain on the window. Then, he slowly removed his hand from the table and gripped the
edge of his bench instead.
A short time later, [e] Xuanmin shook his head and pinched Xue Xian’s wrist, prying it away from
their seat. "Enough. Find somewhere else."
If Xue Xian kept going, would this carriage even be fit for sitting anymore?
Xue Xian thought for a while, then put his hands on the carriage door.
Now the whole carriage warmed up, but the temperature was rising too quickly. The air became
hotter and hotter.
Wordlessly, Lu Nianqi stiffened his neck and pushed the blanket off his knees, then shoved the
heater back into Stone Zhang's lap.
As for Jiang Shining, he pushed open the curtain and discreetly let in a sliver of fresh air. To a
rogue ghost used to the freezing cold, this temperature was absurd. He felt as though they were
baozi in a bamboo steamer –– their skins were already cooked, and, in a short while, their filling
would be ready too.
As the carriage became increasingly stuffy, finally, it was Xuanmin who spoke up. "If it gets any
hotter, there will be three extra spaces in this carriage."
Those three baozi, almost ready to be picked out of the pot, all glared at Xue Xian.
This zuzong raised his eyelids. Then, in an exaggerated magnanimous gesture, he peeled his hands
away from the carriage door. He was about to reach for the lantern in the corner when Xuanmin
intercepted his wrist.
If he overheated that frail ceramic lantern, it would no doubt explode.
Now Xue Xian made for the metal hinges on the carriage door, but Xuanmin swatted his wrist away
again.
He definitely couldn't touch the metal hinges. He'd melt them, and then they wouldn't be able to
get out.
Xue Xian had been blocked over and over again, and each time by that nefarious bald donkey. Xue
Xian's temper exploded. He glowered at Xuanmin from the corner of his eye, then suddenly took
out his pair of claws and stuffed them into the neck part of Xuanmin’s collar. "If you block me
again, I'll fucking boil you!”
Xuanmin: “………”
The three sitting across from them watched, stunned. None of them dared to speak –– they feared
that if they made a sound, it would be their own necks at stake. Quickly, they all dropped their
gazes and looked away.
How were they supposed to live like this?
Suddenly, there came the sound of the horses ahead whinnying loudly. The scarred man made a
long hu––– noise, then began to console the horses. "Shh... Shh... Don't be afraid," he said, coaxing.
As the train came to an emergency stop, the horses bumped into the carriages and all began to
whine.
"Why did we stop?" Jiang Shining asked, anxious. "Are we in trouble?"
He looked at Xue Xian and said, "What was it you were saying before? We'd be fine as long as we
didn't do... something... Do you really think we'd be that unlucky?"
Ever since Xue Xian had mysteriously warned him, Jiang Shining had been consumed by panic,
terrified that something might happen. But it was as folk always said... whatever it is you're scared
of, it will happen for sure.
Chapter 38: Theatre Troupe (III)
A small mountain range lay between Guanyin Port and the nearest town, to the north. Because of
the slippery snow, those mountain paths were extremely difficult to maneuver. Some routes had
even been completely blocked out by the snowfall, and required travellers to make detours.
Such was the situation that the scarred man had encountered today––
The first carriage had stopped in an extremely dangerous position. Only one zhang ahead of them
was a drastic cliff. Normally, there were two bridges on the cliff that could bring them to the two
mountain paths ahead –– one east and one west –– which allowed them to avoid the massive,
unscalable peak in the middle.
"What's wrong?" Having cooled himself down temporarily on Xuanmin's neck, Xue Xian was in a
better mood. Pretending that nothing was wrong inside the carriage, he pushed open the door and
stuck his head out, calling to the troupe. "Do you need a hand?"
From afar, the scarred man called back, "It's fine. The bridge that we'd planned to cross has
snapped. We have to take the other path..."
The horse at the front of the train continued to whinny and seemed extremely agitated. If it hadn't
been for the scarred man stopping them at just the right time, that horse would long have tumbled
down the side of the cliff.
"How could a bridge just snap?" An old man said as he descended from one of the carriages ahead.
"Did we take the right turn? What did I say? We still need these old horses of mine to show us the
way."
"Lao-Li, stop wheedling me. I do know the way," the scarred man said. "Get back into the carriage.
Don't get out for no reason, or you'll freeze your throat and lose your singing voice."
Xue Xian saw that the old man surnamed Li did not obey the scarred man and return to the
carriage. Instead, he walked through the snow toward that first horse. He took a look at the cliff,
then cried out, "What the hell? How could it snap so cleanly?... Huh. So now we have to take the
eastern path?"
But unlike the scarred man, this Lao-Li seemed extremely reluctant to take the detour, as though
to take that other path would curse his family with eight hundred years of bad luck.
Xue Xian's hearing was far sharper than humans', so he could hear every word of the men's
exchange. He asked, "Is the eastern route bad?"
He had not tried to project his voice, but nonetheless, his words –– along with the snowflakes
around him –– were carried by the eddies of wind into the ears of the men at the front.
The two men were stunned. Then they turned to Xue Xian and shouted, "It's fine, don't worry. It's
just that the eastern route is longer, and rocks fall onto it often. But if we're careful, we can still
get through."
"Is it really fine?" Jiang Shining asked from inside the carriage, his face gaunt.
Xue Xian strained his eyes past the thick snow to study the men's expressions. Squinting, he shook
his head and said, "They don't seem too bothered, but... Oh, I don't know how to say it. Let's just
go."
The always silent Xuanmin stirred next to him and pushed the curtain aside. "No worries. Let me
see."
His serene tone helped everyone in the carriage relax. Even Xue Xian, who had constantly been
bothering Xuanmin in the past few days, had to admit that –– never mind anything else –– this bald
donkey was handy for solving problems.
Then, just as the thought flashed through this daye’s mind, he stopped himself again. ...Why would
I randomly describe the bald donkey as 'handy'...
It just seemed like the way you'd describe something dear to you, something you kept near you at
all times –– for something to be 'handy', you had to have it in your hand...
Still leaning out of the door, Xue Xian pondered this for a moment. Then he chastised himself. He
decided that he must have ingested rat poison, to suddenly have had such a weird thought.
But the bald donkey was a simple mortal. Once Xue Xian returned to his ordinary form, he'd be a
divine dragon, and would easily be able to pick up Xuanmin with his claw. So...
Never mind holding Xuanmin in his hand: even dangling Xuanmin from his teeth was as simple as
opening his mouth. So there!
This made the shameless zuzong feel better about himself again. He felt majestic.
As he concocted an elaborate fantasy of a battle between man and dragon, Xue Xian couldn't help
but sneak a peek at Xuanmin inside the carriage.
Xuanmin noticed this. As he had no idea what was going through Xue Xian’s mind, he felt intrigued.
With his detached disposition, Xuanmin never usually thought too much about whether or not
others were staring at him. Thus, he decided that this zuzong was simply overheating and in a bad
mood, and did not want to add oil to the fire, so Xuanmin only glanced at Xue Xian, then went back
to peering out the window.
But in a way, that brief look of curiosity had, in fact, been oil to the fire.
When Xue Xian saw the frosty way in which Xuanmin had dismissed him, he felt an itch in his hand –
– a strong urge to go ahead and fight Xuanmin then and there. Although Xue Xian knew that this
made no sense –– this was not his first day with Xuanmin, and he had long gotten used to the
neither cold nor warm way in which Xuanmin treated those around him –– Xue Xian just... didn't
feel good.
It was as though the qi that had been happily swimming around his body had suddenly gotten
blocked somewhere –– it wasn't a big deal, nor was it painful, but it was just uncomfortable.
Another mass of hot air swelled inside Xue Xian's body, lapping up at him like incessant waves. He
could not keep it at bay for long at all, and it seemed that it would never go away.
Annoying.
At the front of the train, the scarred man was gripping the rope binding the horses to the carriages,
trying to move the animals toward the eastern bridge. But the leading horse was even fussier than
Xue Xian. It snorted and whinnied, pounding its hooves on the ground, and refused to budge.
"We've tried the whip, we've tried the carrot, and we've tried calming it. Why won't it take a single
step forward? It never used to be like this. How strange," Lao-Li mumbled angrily.
"It just won't cooperate with us today. They all say that horses are innately attuned to spiritual
things. [a] Perhaps it was startled earlier and now senses danger ahead, and doesn't want to go," the
scarred man said. But he began to pat the horse's neck. He alternated with harder and softer pats,
and, finally, the horse grunted and reluctantly took a few steps forward.
Slowly, the wheels of the carriages began to turn again. Lao-Li hurried back into his carriage, but
his expression seemed still to be one of panic and worry. Before he disappeared into the carriage,
he happened to meet eyes with Xue Xian and forced himself to replace his anxious look with a
placating one. "It's fine. The horse didn't want to go, so we had a delay. But we're moving again
now."
The small incident on the road seemed to have been solved. It was troublesome, but it was far from
what Jiang Shining had feared.
Xue Xian nodded at Lao-Li as a word of thanks and shut their own carriage door, but remained
sitting at the doorway with his arms wrapped around himself. He seemed no longer intent on using
Xuanmin to cool himself off, and did not speak, either. He seemed unusually idle.
The bridge that the scarred man was now taking was slightly wider than the other one. The horses
and mule carried them gently across the ravine, and there was even extra room on the sides of the
train. Nothing seemed to be wrong.
Then they got onto the path on the other side, and the horse's behavior changed again –– it kept
starting and stopping.
Each time, they could hear the men ahead trying to persuade the horse to go on, at times coaxing,
at times scolding. The sound of the wheels crunching against the snow and the horse's irritated
whinnies were pierced, every so often, by the cracks of a whip. As they headed deeper into the
mountain range, the feeling became increasingly unsettling.
"Has it really been resolved? Why do I feel so nervous?" Jiang Shining asked, his face full of worry.
He sat as rigidly as a pin on a pincushion, and seemed a completely different person compared to
his normally sluggish self.
After another bout of fretting, Jiang Shining seemed also to realise how unusual his behavior was.
Finally, he said, "Why have I been so anxious ever since we entered the mountain range?"
Xue Xian's voice didn't betray any hint of emotion when he said, "Lots of yin energy."
Normally, there was always a specific and lively tone to his voice. Sometimes he sneered and other
times he mocked, but he always displayed a wide range of complicated, interlocking emotions, and
was obviously the kind of person who could never stay still.
So the dull and mild tone he employed now was too different from his normal demeanor, making
Jiang Shining wonder if something was wrong.
But Jiang Shining decided that it was best not to say anything, in case he provoked the zuzong.
Still, he couldn't ignore the rising sense of panic derived from the four words Xue Xian had uttered.
What did 'lots of yin energy' mean?
Xue Xian didn’t elaborate. It was Lu Nianqi who clutched his bundle of sticks and said, "If I
remember correctly, that boatman said there had been a landslide in Anqing Prefecture."
"Mn?" Jiang Shining turned to the boy.
Blank-faced, Lu Nianqi stared back at him and said in a dull voice, "Do you think there are dead
people from the landslide on this mountain?"
Jiang Shining: “...”
Was this kid doing it on purpose? Why did he sound like he was telling a ghost story?
Stone Zhang looked like he was about to cry again. "How old are you, child? Stop trying to scare
people for no reason!"
Lu Nianqi rolled his eyes and tapped at his sticks.
Xue Xian felt that his palms were burning up again, but sat unmoving in the corner with those
passive, half-closed eyes. He seemed not to be planning any further mischief, yet his unusual
demeanor only made the others in the carriage feel an even stronger sense of foreboding.
As the carriage fell into silence, Jiang Shining couldn't tell if it was just his paranoia, but he had
the feeling that the peaceful silence was a pot of soup, in which they were all stewing...
They were taking forever to traverse this mountain path, and the leading horse was still acting off.
It would run for a couple of steps, then slow down to a walk, and then slow down more to a
shuffle...
An hour passed before they'd even made it halfway across.
Xuanmin was still using a hand to hold the curtain open, staring out of the window in
contemplation. Because he said nothing, Jiang Shining took this as a reassuring sign.
By this point, Xue Xian's palms were becoming extremely uncomfortable –– he could not even
accurately describe them as ‘burning’ anymore. He languished and gave up trying to find something
with which to direct the heat away.
Now that he had lost interest in making mischief, he found that nothing seemed fun at all
anymore.
The heat isn't completely unbearable yet. Let it burn, he muttered inside.
Just as that scorching heat began to clamber up his wrist and spread across the rest of his body, a
slender hand suddenly appeared before Xue Xian's eyes.
Stunned, Xue Xian rubbed his eyes and looked around. He saw that Xuanmin was still sitting by the
window with one hand against the curtain, staring out peacefully –– but his left hand was now
hovering in front of Xue Xian's face, palm up.
For some reason, Xue Xian's heartbeat quickened. [b] But he quickly came back to his senses and
said in an instinctively cold tone, "Why are you suddenly showing off your hand to me?"
Finally, Xuanmin temporarily tore his gaze away from the window and glanced at Xue Xian, whose
hands were still clinging tightly to his own shoulders. "Do you not need something to cool you
down?" he asked.
Then, he went back to looking outside. His hand continued to hover in front of Xue Xian. He had not
taken it away.
All the anger Xue Xian had been keeping inside of him suddenly evaporated.
But Xue Xian still had a shred of that untouchable pride in him. As he gazed down at Xuanmin's
hand, he bit down on the tip of his tongue and frowned, thinking. Finally, he wiggled his chin and
said in a demurring voice, "Fine. For once, since you're making sense... Don't mind if I do."
Eagerly now, he reached out with those two claws and wrapped one tightly around the cool hand
that Xuanmin had given him. The other of Xue Xian's hands crept slowly in the direction of
Xuanmin's face, trying to lock itself there.
Xuanmin pushed that hand away.
As Xue Xian felt the heat settle a bit, he relaxed and sighed a happy sigh. But then Xuanmin
suddenly frowned.
"What is it?" Seeing Xuanmin's expression, Xue Xian followed the monk's gaze and peered out of the
gap in the curtain too.
As the path curved around the side of the mountain, they could see some of the route far ahead.
Part of it was completely covered in a massive pile of fallen rocks. The rocks blocked a large part
of the road, and were in complete disarray, but Xue Xian could see something crushed beneath
them.
"Is that... a horse-drawn carriage crushed beneath the boulders? Are there still people inside?!"
Jiang Shining exclaimed as he also stuck his head out. He could not see much from his perspective,
so he strained his neck to get a good view.
"It is a carriage..." Xue Xian said. Then, gloomily, he added, "Keep looking. Don't you think that
carriage looks awfully familiar?"
Jiang Shining froze in shock. He suddenly understood why Xue Xian had told him not to get too
close to the scarred man and his troupe...
"You mean... they.... they're all..."
"Shhh," Xue Xian interrupted. "When you encounter such people, a certain word is taboo. If you say
it out loud, they'll wake up."
He paused. Then he added, "We can't let them see..."
He paused again, and gestured outside with his chin. "Or else, the peace will be broken."
But the horses were trotting that way, and there was only one narrow path on the mountain. There
was no way to turn back.
"How in the world can we avoid it?" Jiang Shining asked, a cold feeling settling into his chest.
----
Chapter 39: Theatre Troupe (IV)
The weather was humid and dark in these parts, so the snow didn't build up as fast as it might
elsewhere. There was only a thin layer of white along the mountain path, and, as groups of people
traversed it over the course of the day, some parts had turned to sleet and then hardened into ice.
The path was therefore dangerously slippery. The horse at the front of the train was still snorting
and whinnying endlessly, and only moved when struck by the whip, hurtling between starting and
stopping.
But no matter how slowly they were going, they would only have to go a little bit further to come
upon that pile of fallen boulders.
"They really have... no idea at all?" Jiang Shining asked, his neck stiff and his face contorting with
fear as he waited for Xuanmin or Xue Xian to respond.
Xue Xian said, "I wouldn't say they have no idea at all. If you look at them––" He jutted his chin in
the general direction of the other carriages–– "That horse has been terrified this whole time. And
earlier, when we were at the bridge, both the scarred man and Lao-Li seemed really reluctant to
come here, too. There's something in them that's telling them to avoid this route."
When humans got the sense that something bad was coming up, of course they wanted to avoid it.
Despite not having use of his legs, this zuzong was not one to sit quietly. Unable to stand up and
bend over to look out the window, he had instead managed to get his entire body to lean
horizontally on the bench and hang his chin on the windowsill. Xuanmin had no choice but to scoot
to the very edge of the bench in order to give Xue Xian the space he needed. Earlier, allowing this
zuzong to use Xuanmin’s hand to cool down seemed to have helped him achieve balance again, and
he now had the strength to move his upper body this way and that.
Initially, all Xuanmin had done was come across a couple of yao and scoop them up with some scrap
metal. But here they all were. How had they ended up like this?
As Jiang Shining sat on his side of the carriage, the shaking hand that fidgeted with his robe
betrayed his anxiety.
Lu Nianqi happened to accidentally graze him with his knee, and could feel Jiang Shining’s
nervousness. Lu Nianqi couldn't help but glance at Jiang Shining with his half-blind eyes and say,
"I've never seen a ghost scared of ghosts."
“...” Jiang Shining shot back, "Remember when you were screaming and crying for your parents
back in the tomb?"
Hurt by Jiang Shining's comment, Lu Nianqi clicked his tongue and turned away, no longer in the
mood to mock him.
Lu Nianqi was young and not all that courageous –– just extremely stubborn and deathly attached to
his pride. He tried to pretend to be brave as much as he could, but what had happened at
Gravestone Island had been beyond his limits, so his true feelings had been exposed.
In contrast, Lu Shijiu had begun seeing things that normal people could not see from a very young
age, and, being used to encountering all sorts of strange and ghostly [a] things, he naturally had
never been afraid of them.
It was only now that Lu Nianqi had absorbed some of Shijiu’s personality that he could truly feel a
bit calmer.
Lu Nianqi quieted down, and Jiang Shining had been chastised by his comment –– but now it was
Stone Zhang’s turn to begin acting up.
Learning for the first time that Jiang Shining was a ghost, Stone Zhang began to feel very unwell.
His mung-bean eyes swivelled around the carriage, taking in his companions. Out of the five
‘people’ here, apart from him, all the others were deeply abnormal... and in the carriage in front
of him, and the carriage in front of that, and even the animals drawing the carriages... none of
them were alive...
Dear mama, what in the world is going on?!
Stone Zhang wanted to cry. He clutched the heater closer and pressed back into the carriage wall,
as though he could use sheer will to turn his potbellied frame flat. He was trying to make sure no
one else noticed him.
"A bit more––" Xue Xian said, staring out the window. "Wait for the horse to take a couple more
steps."
The train had advanced by a huge chunk. The path wound down the steep mountain, and the pile of
rocks was further ahead. While they previously had had to crane their necks to see the rocks in the
distance, that pile was now downhill, almost beneath their feet. As the carriage eked closer to the
pile, all the theatre troupe members had to do was look directly down the side of the mountain at
the next curve of the road, and see the crushed carriage below.
And the closer they got to the pile, the more the horses were agitated. This was obvious just from
the sounds of the scarred man trying every trick in the book to get the horses to obey him. And
maybe it was because the atmosphere in the group was so high-strung, but the scarred man's voice
sounded increasingly panicked, and voices had begun to emerge from the carriages in the front as
the troupe members murmured amongst each other.
It was a highly stressful environment.
"…Do you think they'll look out of the window and see it?" Jiang Shining couldn't help but ask.
"No," Xuanmin said matter-of-factly.
Xuanmin hated to speak, and even when he had to explain something, he made sure he only said
what was important. This categorical and straightforward approach was highly reassuring, because
it left no room for anyone to suspect that he had left something out.
Jiang Shining felt better. But Stone Zhang asked, "How are you so sure?"
"Because they're scared too! Stop asking so many questions," Xue Xian snapped. He was still facing
out of the window and did not bother to look at Stone Zhang before adding, "Your tongue seems to
be the only lean meat across your entire body. I should cut it off and use it to make wine."
Make wine...
“...” Xuanmin frowned.
The niezhang being argumentative was one thing, but did he really have to conjure up such
disgusting images?
Xuanmin scanned the outside, then lifted his other hand and patted Xue Xian on the shoulder. "I'm
going out."
Stunned, Xue Xian turned to him. "You?"
"Mn." It was either that, or sit around here listening to certain people say all kinds of creepy
nonsense. Xuanmin feared that if he listened to too much of it, he’d lose my appetite for the next
ten days.
"Can you do it?" Xue Xian squinted. "The carriage is going to get there really soon. Can you make it
in time?"
Xuanmin nudged Xue Xian’s shoulder, silently asking him to get away from the window and sit back
properly on his seat. Then, Xuanmin unhooked the copper coin pendant from his hip and stepped
over Xue Xian's head.
He was too tall for the tiny carriage, and had to half-bend. One of his hands was still being gripped
by Xue Xian, so Xuanmin used that leverage to help push himself out of the carriage door. His white
monk's robe was like the wind and snow blowing past them all –– in one flurry, he was gone.
Seeing this, Stone Zhang was dumbfounded. He rushed to the window and saw that that snow-white
shadow had already flipped down to the next stretch of road below. Xuanmin made no noise –– not
a single pebble had been disturbed by his descent.
The group inside the carriage seemed struck by the elegant manner in which Xuanmin had departed
–– all except Xue Xian...
He snorted. It was so-so, he thought. Still not as good as me.
Despite this, Xue Xian still nudged himself across the bench so that he now sat where Xuanmin had
been. With one hand pressed on the heavy curtain, he stared out and watched as Xuanmin made his
way across the mountain road.
Xuanmin stood steadily atop the pile of fallen rocks. Although his feet rested on tiny rocks the size
of fists, he did not allow himself to teeter even slightly. Raising his head, Xuanmin looked at the
side of the mountain –– between the uphill part of the path, where the carriage train currently was,
and the downhill part, where he was now, there was an enormous chunk of rock missing. Because
of this, even the uphill section looked fragile, as though any further weight would send everything
sliding down again.
That missing chunk was the part of the mountain that had fallen, turning into the pile on which
Xuanmin now stood. The biggest of these rocks were boulders around half his height –– with a
landslide that violent, never mind wooden carriages, even metal carriages were sure to have been
flattened.
Apart from the corner of a carriage that they had spied from afar and a blue cloth curtain,
everything else remained buried tightly underneath the pile of rocks. The corpses probably did not
even look human anymore. Even if they were unearthed one day, they would probably have been
torn to pieces, limbs strewn all across the path.
Xuanmin thought for a while, then had an idea.
Xue Xian was not the only one monitoring all of Xuanmin's movements –– Stone Zhang and Jiang
Shining were also jostling for space at the window, and even Lu Nianqi could not help but peer out.
"What are you craning your neck for?" Xue Xian snapped at the kid. "You took a few days’ nap, and
now your eyes can see normally again?"
Neutrally, Lu Nianqi replied, "Thank you for your concern. Unfortunately, my vision is actually even
blurrier."
The blurrier his vision, the blinder he was becoming, and the more qi he could see. Naturally, qi
silhouettes were not crystal clear.
Actually, Xue Xian was quite curious. As a divine creature, his vision was of course far sharper than
that of humans, and he could hardly imagine what Lu Shijiu’s... and now Lu Nianqi's... world looked
like.
"Just looking at you from this distance, I can't tell if you're human or beast," Lu Nianqi said,
describing his perspective.
But...
That did not sound right at all –– it sounded much more like the boy was mocking him.
"That means you're getting better at seeing qi," Xue Xian said. Then, miffed, he went back to
looking at Xuanmin outside.
From his angle, Xue Xian could see everything that Xuanmin was doing.
They say that swords, especially those yao-swords in legends, need to be awakened with fresh
blood –– only blood could unlock their true potential, and then they were able to slice through wind
and chop through water. And although Xuanmin's copper coin pendant had neither cutting edge nor
sharp point, for some reason, they seemed to require being awakened by blood, too.
Xue Xian watched as Xuanmin cut another gash across his fingertip and rubbed his blood onto the
surface of the coins.
With a weng–– sound, the coins seemed to come to life. They began to lightly quiver, emitting a
lugubrious ringing sound that echoed out faintly and hollowly into the howling snowstorm. As Xue
Xian heard this noise, something in his ear felt uncomfortable, and he frowned.
Xuanmin arranged the five coins of the pendant into five positions on his palm –– north, south, east,
west, and center. He took out some talismanic paper from his chest pocket, but the talismans were
empty, with nothing inscribed on them at all.
Xuanmin folded the yellow sheets of paper and bent down to arrange them in the four cardinal
directions by his feet, each paper weighed down by rocks. Next, the fingers of his right hand
hovered over the copper coins in his left hand, and his pale lips parted, as though reciting a prayer.
But it didn't seem like a full prayer –– more like a short, fragmented phrase.
And with that, the copper coins that had previously been resting on Xuanmin's palm now raised
themselves into the air and began to slowly spin.
As Xuanmin uttered his Buddhist chant-like phrase and brushed the east-facing coin, the east-facing
talisman, quivering beneath its rock, suddenly began to show a thin stream of blood, as though an
invisible hand had dipped a brush in crimson ink and was steadily inscribing talismanic text onto it.
When the complicated text had been written, Xuanmin spun the hovering ring of coins in his hand
for another half-circle, then put away that invisible brush.
Next was south;
Then north;
And finally west...
In the instant that the four talismans were completed, an enormous gust of wind appeared. It
sounded like the roar of a tiger or the howl of a wolf. This wind was so powerful that even the
heavy curtain of the group’s own carriage flapped violently, slapping against Stone Zhang's head
with a pili pala sound.
“...” Stone Zhang felt that he was the unluckiest man in the world. He pawed at his stinging face,
then reached out and tore the entire curtain away from the window. The carriage was now
completely vulnerable to the wind, and a chilling winter air blasted inside, carrying a thin stream
of snow.
The snow was cold and bristling, and blew so hard against their faces that Stone Zhang and Jiang
Shining could barely keep their eyes open.
They blinked hard, and lifted a hand to shield their foreheads –– only then could they open their
eyes and look out at the scene on the mountain again.
"Huh––" Stone Zhang gasped.
The wind that Xuanmin had summoned came hurtling towards the pile of rocks and slithered
beneath them. In that instant, the boulders, as well as the carriages crushed below, began to float
in the air, entirely lifted by that savage wind, and slowly glided away from the path.
As the mass of earth and debris hung in the air, Xuanmin, still standing on two small blocks of
stone, lifted his left foot and nonchalantly kicked it.
And as though dragged by a thousand-jin weight, everything beneath Xuanmin's feet instantly
ejected themselves into the gap of the valley below.
Soon, a faint, muffled long–– long–– sound emerged from the valley.
"Is he going to blow up the mountain?" Stone Zhang asked idiotically.
"Then he should throw you into the explosion too," Xue Xian spat, then he explained: "He probably
buried it."
Just as Xue Xian had guessed, the falling rocks' impact could not be underestimated. Even before
they had fully fallen to the valley floor, the wet, soft mud of the valley had caved into a deep
crater, into which the carcasses of the troupe's members and horses, as well as the debris from
their carriages, fell. Everything was swiftly buried beneath the pile of stone, which gently arranged
itself into a burial mound.
The falling snow began to stick to those shattered boulders and lingered, so that, by the time the
dust settled and the roaring wind vanished, there was only a thin layer of white peeking out from
the valley, as though the burial mound had been covered with a smatter of joss paper money.
This was how Xuanmin had performed a simple set of funeral rites...
Xuanmin rubbed the blood away from his copper coin pendant and hooked it back onto his hip.
Then he turned to the grave and made a Buddhist greeting with his hand.
His cloudlike monk's robe billowed in the wind, and with a light sweep of the hemp cloth, he
disappeared into the thick forest of the valley.
To Xuanmin, leaping back up the steep side of the mountain was just as easy as leaping down from
it. Within a few light steps, he had already bounded up to the part of the mountain path where the
pile of rocks had originally been. Above him, the theatre troupe's carriages finally turned that last
corner of the winding mountain path and were now coming directly his way. He could hear the
shouts of the scarred man, and soon that stubborn horse's muzzle would come into view, too.
In order to avoid being seen by the scarred man, Xuanmin tapped the ground with his foot and used
the momentum to leap higher up onto the mountain. He planned to wait for the carriage train to
pass below him and to rejoin from the back without being seen. Just as Xuanmin intended to return
to Xue Xian and the others, he suddenly noticed that, in an area slightly removed from the path
proper, there remained a small pile of rocks –– and that beneath those rocks were two anonymous
corpses.
That pile had just happened to have been concealed by the jagged surface of the mountain, and,
from the point at which Xuanmin had first landed onto the path, he had not been able to see it.
It seemed that, when the landslide had crushed the main train, two people had been able to
extricate themselves and escape, only to be killed by a second stream of falling rocks.
The carriage train was going to appear any instant now, but Xuanmin did not have the time to
sweep down and lay his talismans again.
But just before the imminent disaster, the long silhouette of a black dragon emerged from behind
the mountain.
Xue Xian!
This zuzong insisted on doing everything with excessive flair. Xuanmin watched as two bolts of
lightning struck down onto the boulders that had crushed the two theatre troupe members.
Following this, the boulders dutifully erupted into uncountable tiny pieces. The black dragon
wordlessly approached, wrapped in a torrent of wind, and, with a nod of the dragon’s head, the
wind swept up the two bodies and the rock dust, sending them tumbling down the side of the
mountain. Everything disappeared into that thick forest in the valley.
Hu–––
The wind settled again, and the trees stopped shaking too.
Those two bodies fell to the valley floor and were swiftly covered by the dense mass of dust. Not a
patch of skin peeped out.
"Hu––!" Alarmed by the wind, the scarred man had pulled at his reins and the carriage train had
scuttled to a stop. Now that the wind seemed to have gone away, the man cracked his whip again.
The terrified horses saw the fateful patch of mountain road ahead of them and, seeing that the
area was empty, suddenly calmed down. Now, the clipping trots of the horses advanced, gliding
smoothly past the spot, and came toward the jagged part of the mountain.
Xue Xian could not move the bottom half of his body, nor could he feel it. He used only his upper
body to fly up the side of the mountain and managed to haul himself onto the uphill part of the
mountain path, narrowly avoiding the scarred man's line of sight.
But his tail missed its landing. In the precise moment that the scarred man was turning the corner
with the carriages, that unfortunate tail fell with a xiu–– and swung limply down the side of the
mountain –– right in front of the scarred man.
The scarred man: “...”
Xue Xian: “...”
Xuanmin, who stood hiding on the same uphill part of the path as Xue Xian, was speechless with
exasperation. Silently, he crept down to the zuzong’s tail, grabbed it, and yanked it away from the
path…
Chapter 40: Restaurant Waiter (I)
[a]
On one end of the snowy mountain path lay the exhausted black dragon. On the other end was the
scarred man sitting petrified at the front of a horse-drawn carriage train, wondering whether he
was sleepwalking through life. And then there was the young monk, staring downhill, holding the
tip of a certain dragon’s tail in his arms. Together, the figures made up the harmonious three
points of a triangle, and, all frozen in place, they could be taken for a scenic, peaceful painting.
They stayed that way for a long time, no one making a move.
After about a hundred years, the scarred man was the first to move––
His eyeballs swivelled around. Then, he raised his face and stared up the jagged face of the
mountain, confused –– but all he saw was the swell of white snow and a patch of dark sky. There
was no creature flying above him. He recalled what he had just seen: something long and thin, with
scales all across its body. But there was something else, too...
He could barely even remember anymore. Basically, something had been flying about in front of
him, coming so close that it almost took his head off.
But how could such a massive thing suddenly vanish?
"Troupemaster, why have we stopped? Is the horse giving you trouble again?" someone asked from
beyond a carriage curtain.
It was only then that the scarred man came back to his senses. He shook his head vigorously, trying
to shake away what he had just thought he'd seen. He thought: I must be too tired from travelling.
It's confusing me.
He took up the flask of wine from beside him. This wine did not seem to have been manufactured
in the Jiangnan area [b] –– it seemed to have come from north of the Great Wall. [c] Strong and stiff,
the alcohol was the kind that went straight to the heart. The scarred man took a sip to shock
himself back to life, and found that his hands began to feel much warmer too. He decided to
continue on his way.
"Qu––" he said. The scarred man took one last mystified look at his surroundings, then cracked the
whip. The carriage train rattled on.
As the rhythmic sound of hooves began to recede from this part of the path and the train turned
another corner downhill, the black dragon hiding uphill rolled his eyes, and finally sighed.
Dragons naturally do not breathe as humans do, casually opening and closing our nostrils –– for
dragons, there is always quite a large risk of summoning another mighty gust of killer wind every
time they eject breath. In order to stay silent and make sure that the scarred man would move
along as quickly as possible, Xue Xian had had to stop breathing altogether, and the effort of
holding his breath had almost caused him to pass out.
Now that the danger had passed, the zuzong became lively again, as though he were not stuck halfparalysed in the middle of a mountain.
Xue Xian arched his body and glared down at Xuanmin, who was still holding his tail. "Would you
look at that," he sneered. "I still had to come and clean up the crime scene for you. If not for my
quick reflexes, that scarred man would have come face to face with his own dead body."
The audacity!
“...” Xuanmin had been in the middle of bending to gingerly put down the dragon's tail, but now he
stiffened, and straightened his back again.
He said nothing, only continued to clutch the tip of Xue Xian's tail and glared back at him coldly,
which meant: Try saying that one more time.
Xue Xian glanced at his own tail hatefully. He wished he could cut the stupid thing off. When he'd
been small, Xuanmin had pinched it to control him, and now that he was big, he could still not
escape that bald donkey’s evil clutches. What was the point? Mn?!
So he stared at Xuanmin, and Xuanmin stared back at him with his tail in his hand, neither haughty
nor humble, clearly waiting for Xue Xian to take back what he'd said.
It would not do to have his tail in Xuanmin's hands like that. Not only was the tail a vulnerable part
of Xue Xian's body, but it was also evidence of the humiliating moment he'd just experienced,
which was yet another insult to his dignity.
So after a long time spent battling Xuanmin's gaze, Xue Xian reluctantly scoffed and decided to
compromise. "Alright, alright, you're the best!" he grumbled.
Calmly, Xuanmin asked, "Who cleaned up the crime scene?"
“...” Xue Xian rolled his eyes. In an ironic singsong voice, he replied, "You did –– you cleaned up the
crime scene, happy now? Okay, can you let go now?"
Hearing this, Xuanmin slowly bent and loosened his hands, putting that unruly niezhang’s tail onto
the ground.
Xue Xian felt that if he spent any more time with this bald donkey, he would start to lose years off
his life.
The two had wasted precious time quarrelling over this nonsense. By the time Xue Xian had
slithered behind a curve of the mountain face to transform back into a human and put his clothes
on, and then accompanied Xuanmin back to their carriage, the troupe's train had already cleared
the treacherous mountain path and were beginning to approach the city ahead.
The sky became even darker –– evening had fallen.
"It's almost nighttime. When are we going to reach the city?" Stone Zhang had hooked the curtain
back onto the window and was peering out from its parting. Despite all the commotion on the
journey, nothing bad had actually ended up happening –– but Stone Zhang did not want to spend
another moment in this ‘ghost train’. The sooner they could get into the city, the sooner they could
part ways with the troupe.
"We’re almost there," Jiang Shining said. He pointed at the blanket of snow outside. "Ever since we
got onto this road, you can see a lot more wheel tracks. It seems we aren't far from the city gates."
Stone Zhang's gaze fell on the bundle of food and his mouth began to water. As his stomach
rumbled loudly, he complained, "Can we take a break once we get into town? Let's get something to
eat. I'm starving."
Immediately, Lu Nianqi's stomach growled as well.
"Are you hungry too?" Jiang Shining asked.
Many aspects of Lu Nianqi's personality were still childish: he seemed to think that being hungry
was a source of embarrassment. "No," he refuted. "That wasn't me." As always, his tone was
stubborn and cold, but the tips of his ears turned bright red.
Xue Xian stretched his cramped shoulders and lazily said, "This snowstorm is still far from over. Just
look at the sky for yourself. It could get worse before it gets better. Besides, the horses are slow as
well. It doesn't really matter when we get there as long as we do."
The fussiest, hardest to please member of the group had spoken up –– it seemed that he was in
agreement about the food.
And as for the other one...
Jiang Shining glanced at Xuanmin and saw that Xuanmin had no intention of saying anything ––
which basically meant that he agreed too.
After about half a shichen, the train began to slow down, and the sound of voices drifted toward
them.
"We're here!" Stone Zhang excitedly rubbed his hands together, like a big-bellied, round-headed
grey fly.
The town in which they were stopping was the xian cheng [d] for Huazhi County. Although it was
only a minor town in Anqing Prefecture, its proximity to the river –– it was the closest town to
Guanyin Port –– made it a lively, busy place. But the city itself was unusually tiny: to walk every
street within its walls would only take about one shichen at the most. Despite its size, Huazhi Xian
Cheng still had strict rules for those entering and leaving.
Xue Xian had passed through this town before. If he remembered correctly, the city guards were
highly strict when it came to searching and questioning visitors. They made everyone get off their
horses and open the doors to their carriages. All those entering, whether they were passing through
or spending a few nights — even those who had come from disparate regions — all had to give the
guards their names.
Indeed, after answering some preliminary questions, the scarred man brought the carriage train to
a halt outside the city gates. A guard came over, holding a book of names in his hand, and began to
count the number of passengers in each carriage.
When the guard opened the door of the final carriage and looked inside to check, the expressions
on the group’s face all went slack with fascination––
Half of the guard's face was painted with a huge patch of dark medicinal paste, as was the back of
his hand. The paste emitted an unusual, indescribable smell.
The guard, too, seemed self-conscious about the stench of medicine on him, so he performed his
check hurriedly –– though he did look at Xuanmin twice –– then slammed the carriage door and
motioned for the train to carry on.
"Why was he looking at dashi?" Jiang Shining asked.
"Who knows. Maybe he just doesn't look like a good person," Xue Xian said. He seemed utterly
absorbed by the scenery outside the carriage, and refused to tear his gaze away from the window.
Everyone: “...” The most reliable-looking member of the group was Xuanmin. This zuzong was
shameless.
The scarred man and his troupe were inordinately kind. They brought Xue Xian and the others all
the way to the doors of an inn, and only then did they bid farewell.
The theatre troupe seemed to be in a hurry to get somewhere, and dared not delay. They
themselves had no plan to remain in Huazhi Xian Cheng.
"If you want to hire a carriage, simply speak to the innkeeper. Huazhi County is tiny: if a roof fell
and crushed five people, three of them would be related. The innkeeper will easily be able to find
you a carriage. Just give him a tip." This was the scarred man's parting advice.
Naturally, Xue Xian and the others had never intended to ride the troupe's carriage for free, either.
But the troupe's performers all refused to accept Xuanmin's silver, claiming that they never took
money for their theatre performances at the end of each year –– so they definitely could not accept
money for this ride. Jiang Shining, the only member of the group who actually knew how to interact
with others, bargained with them for an extended time, yet was unable to get them to take the
silver. His face began to betray a sense of desperation.
Finally, Lu Nianqi was the one to speak. "It's okay. There'll be a way to pay them back some other
time."
As he said this, his fingers gloomily tapped the bundle of sticks in his hand –– his mind seemed far
away.
"Have... you divined something?"
Lu Nianqi said nothing except, "We won't owe them."
Not even Xue Xian would doubt the little soothsayer's words, so Jiang Shining let it be. The theatre
troupe bid one last farewell and rattled away toward the city gate again, quickly disappearing into
the night.
Later that evening, when they sat down at a table in the inn and got ready to order a meal, Xue
Xian's attention remained completely focused on the street.
"What have you been looking at this whole time?" Jiang Shining asked.
"A lot of things. I've been here before. The streets aren't as busy as they used to be. There's far
fewer people than normal. And... there are posters stuck all over the walls, did you see them?" Xue
Xian replied.
“What posters? Let me see," Stone Zhang said. He hated being idle, so he crept out of the inn –– but
soon returned, fidgeting awkwardly with his shirt. The group was sitting in a corner of the inn,
behind a large red pillar, so that the rest of the customers could not easily see them.
"I don't know if you're allowed to take these down," Stone Zhang said. "I found this one on the
ground." He took it out of his shirt and smoothed it out on the table. "Look––"
The street had not been well-lit, so Stone Zhang had not actually looked at what the posters had
said. Now that it was laid out in front of them, everyone at the table froze, then stared in
astonishment at Xuanmin.
“Dashi, this..." Stone Zhang stammered. "How did you end up on a wanted poster? What did you
do?"
Frowning, Xuanmin continued to study the drawing.
"Back in Ningyang County, didn't Liu-shiye mistake dashi for the man on the wanted poster?" Jiang
Shining remarked. "But then he said it wasn't him."
Xue Xian reached out and tapped the poster. "I saw the Ningyang poster. Apart from the fact that
the monk on that one also had a mole on his neck, he looked nothing like the bald donkey. He was
much older."
But this poster...
"Didn't they say that the Ningyang posters had been up for almost a month?" Xue Xian added as he
picked up the poster and shook it lightly. "This one feels like... it's only recently been put up."
And the image on this poster had been significantly updated. The man on it looked younger, and all
of his features were drawn differently, so that now... it looked uncannily like Xuanmin.
Chapter 41: Restaurant Waiter (II)
But the poster was highly peculiar. Apart from a likeness of the suspect and a brief description of
his age and appearance, there was no other information -- not even what his crimes were, and why
the imperial government was searching for him so widely. There was only a vague note about him
being dangerous, and not to approach him if one saw him but to immediately alert the local
authorities.
Jiang Shining was still dumbstruck by the drawing's similarities to Xuanmin. He stared off into the
distance pondering this for a long time, then went back to studying the picture––
"The eyes are smaller than dashi’s," Stone Zhang finally said, without lifting his eyes from the
poster. Then, with a gasp, as though he'd suddenly discovered land while at sea, he pointed at the
drawn brow and said, "If you look closely, there's a small mole here, which dashi doesn't have. And
the bridge of the nose is also flatter than dashi’s."
Xue Xian looked at the mole in the picture. To be honest, that might well have been a splash of ink
from the artist, and not actually part of the sketch.
Now Jiang Shining pointed at the text below the picture. "Don't just look at the likeness. Read the
text. It emphasises here that the monk has high cheekbones and an aquiline nose."
As he spoke, four pairs of eyes turned to inspect Xuanmin's cheeks and nose.
Xuanmin: “...”
He was not used to being stared at in this way. With a slight frown and that blank, cold expression,
he emanated an aura of intimidation toward the others.
Awkwardly, Jiang Shining and the others averted their gaze again. But Xue Xian, the only one
unafraid of Xuanmin, went ahead and pushed the monk's face to the side so as to observe his
profile. "There's no hook to the nose," he commented.
Xuanmin knocked Xue Xian’s lawless claw away and continued to frown at the picture.
"Ignore everything else for a second and just look at dashi’s expression. He clearly isn't the man in
the poster. If he really was a criminal, would he look this clueless right now? No one is that good at
acting!" Stone Zhang crowed. His status was definitely the lowest in the group hierarchy, so he
wanted to kiss ass at any chance he got. "Besides, although the monk in this picture does look a bit
like dashi, the sketch’s face is far scarier. Look at the evil look in this man's eyes, he’s obviously
not as righteous as dashi––"
Stone Zhang cleared his throat. Of course, he did not dare to actually touch Xuanmin's face, so
instead he lightly nodded in Xuanmin’s direction, then added, "Look at dashi’s face. It isn't the face
of an evil person at all."
As Stone Zhang spluttered, Xue Xian snickered to himself. That bald donkey doesn't need to act
clueless. With his amnesia, even if he was a criminal, he's probably forgotten all about it. Of
course he wouldn't know why they're after him. And yet...
The nose and cheekbones detail really did not match up. The likeness only showed the face from
the front, so it was impossible to compare.
As Xue Xian fell deep in thought, the voice of the customers at a nearby table wormed its way into
his ear. Xue Xian surreptitiously glanced over.
"Is that monk the one in the wanted poster?" one of them said in a low voice to his companion.
Xue Xian's ears were sharper than humans', which was why he could hear.
"I've had our eye on him since they came in just now, but it's not him," came the reply. "Our county
is the closest to the river port, and with all the people coming in and out, you know as well as I do
how many random monks have already been locked up by the authorities. The one from the day
before yesterday looked exactly like the picture, but the clerks said it wasn't him, and that the one
they were looking for had even higher cheekbones––"
The customer gestured subtly at Xuanmin, and continued. "This one's cheekbones aren't even as
strong as that guy, so don't even think about it. Besides, that one suspicious monk was captured by
the guards outside the city walls, so how could this one have gotten all the way inside? And my
brother-in-law clerks for the yamen. Yesterday, he told me that they added more details to the
description of the monk. The poster will have to be updated again in a couple of days."
"Again? They've changed it at least three times in the past two weeks. How could they still not have
gotten it right? What kind of person's appearance suddenly changes?"
"Who knows!" The customer shook his head. "At the beginning, everyone in the county would do a
double take as soon as they came across a monk. Now that they keep messing with the poster, no
one wants to bother anymore."
Having seen the poster, and then overheard that conversation, Xue Xian finally understood why the
guard at the gate had seemed briefly suspicious of Xuanmin, but had then let them go.
Those who didn't know Xuanmin would quickly eliminate him from suspicion, simply based on the
differences he had with the description as well as the reasons that the two customers had just
outlined. Plus, Xuanmin’s mannerism was that of a monk who had only recently left the temple and
come into human society. Most people were immediately taken aback by that temperament upon
first meeting him, and would only note the specifics of his appearance on a secondary level.
Overall, monks with such a temperament were not generally taken to be evildoers.
But unlike ordinary townspeople, Xue Xian knew the other side of Xuanmin –– he was extremely
powerful, and he had amnesia.
If you came across someone who looked similar to the likeness in a wanted poster, but with some
significant differences, then it was normal to eventually conclude that these were not the same
person.
But if that person looked similar to the likeness, and his origins and backstory were highly
unclear, and he had a mysterious health issue that made him forget all the things that had
happened to him previously... if all of those things came together within one person, could the
wanted poster really be explained away?
Seriously –– could it?
Xue Xian squinted at Xuanmin while he sipped his tea. And Xuanmin still stared intently at the
poster, without noticing Xue Xian’s gaze.
"Sir, [a] your dishes are here ––" came a voice. All the waiters in the inn were well-trained. They
carried a large wooden platter in just one hand, and were able to keep it steady even when it was
stacked with four different dishes, without a single drop of sauce spilling out.
But the waiter who was bringing them their dishes now was different from the waiter who had
poured their tea. Most restaurants had an unwritten rule where the waiter who greeted a group of
customers got to stay with that group throughout their meal. Waiters rarely traded tables midmeal, in case they happened to be serving a generous patron who approved of their nimble service
and sympathetic conversation and who would leave a big fat tip.
"Mn? Where's the waiter from before?" Stone Zhang could not shut up, and always had to be asking
questions. When he said this to the waiter, he said it as a casual question, with nothing behind it.
The waiter smiled and said, "Oh. When Qijin [b] was taking the dishes from the kitchen just now, he
burned his hand on the ceramic plates. He was worried he wouldn’t be able to provide you good
service, so he asked me to replace him. These steamed pork beignets have just come out of the
pot. They're a bit hot, so please be careful, sirs." [a]
Then he quickly added, "Have a good meal,"
all the while.
[c]
before bowing and retreating, still smiling politely
The group at the table didn't think more of it. They hadn't eaten anything all day. When they'd still
been waiting for their meal, they hadn't necessarily felt their hunger, but now that the dishes were
laid out on the table, the warm steam bringing savoury fragrance up to their nostrils, they were
hooked. They readied their chopsticks and tucked in, and had no room in their minds for anything
else anymore.
Because he'd fallen victim to Xuanmin's vegetarian trickery last time, Xue Xian had insisted on
ordering all the dishes himself this time.
The steamed pork beignets were sticky and soft, the clay-pot chicken soup was dense and rich, the
wild mushroom and tofu pudding was still gurgling and steaming, and the stir-fried taro jelly was
stacked in an orderly, transparent tower –– and there were also beef bao with golden bottoms that
gushed with hot sauce upon the first bite...
Stone Zhang thought he might faint from ecstasy, and even Lu Nianqi couldn't help but lick his lips.
"How do you know all the specialties at each restaurant?" Jiang Shining asked gloomily. As a ghost,
he had to sit in the darkest patch of shadow, and could not take a single bite of food. Faced with
such a delicious feast, all he could do was direct his resentment at Xue Xian.
"Don't look so miserable," Xue Xian said, wagging his chin. "Just... take in the smell."
Back when he'd been able-bodied, although he hadn't liked to spend too long among humanity, Xue
Xian had become rather familiar with the concept of restaurants and wine halls. Whenever he left
the sea to run an errand, it would be easy to simply flip through the clouds and arrive immediately
at his destination. But Xue Xian would never be in a hurry: on his way back, he would always pick
some towns on the way and duck in to discover some obscure local delicacies.
Even in the six months since he'd been half-paralysed, Xue Xian hadn't deprived himself of the
pleasure, and had found ways to order others to bring him good food each day. But then... ever
since he'd met Xuanmin, he was now going two or three days without so much as a grain of rice.
Ridiculous!
At the thought of this, Xue Xian became annoyed again and gripped his chopsticks tighter, as
though about to eat back all of the meals he'd missed.
Xuanmin had still been focusing on the poster, but the zuzong beside him was moving too much ––
Xue Xian’s chopsticks jumped around at lightning speed as he inhaled his food, and it was far too
distracting. Xuanmin had no choice but to fold up the poster.
This restaurant was unusually generous with its portions. Each dish was piled high with food,
especially the steamed pork beignets, which filled an entire deep bowl. The container for the wild
mushroom and tofu pudding was so large that it seemed they'd just brought out the entire cooking
pot altogether.
As Xuanmin scanned the meal, he thought it was far too much food for this table. Surely at least a
few of their group would pass out before being able to finish these dishes.
Xuanmin himself never ate very much, so he only scooped himself a small bowl of tofu pudding and
began slowly to raise spoonfuls to his mouth –– a composure that was in stark contrast to Xue Xian
beside him.
When Xuanmin finished the bowl of pudding, he put his spoon down.
"Are you eating cat food? How are you already full?" Xue Xian asked.
Xuanmin glanced over at Xue Xian’s side of the table, at the mountain of pork and chicken bones.
And this zuzong was sly –– he, too, seemed to think that he had spat out too many bones, so had
used his chopsticks to cut the pile in half and nudge part of it toward Xuanmin, making it seem as
though the bones had come from them both.
Xuanmin: “...”
Who had ever heard of a monk spitting out pork and chicken bones?
Stone Zhang, Jiang Shining, and Lu Nianqi sat gawking as Xue Xian sucked on a lingering piece of
meat on a drumstick, then turned and looked over at Xuanmin, their gazes drifting down to the
piles of bones nearest to him.
Seeing this, Xuanmin looked down at his pile –– it was twice as large as the pile Xue Xian had
attributed to himself.
What kind of idiot would believe that...
Jiang Shining saluted Xue Xian. "I admire you."
Xue Xian ignored him.
No matter how hungry someone is, their appetite is still limited to that of a human being. When
Xuanmin had scanned the meal, he'd calculated that the group would only be able to eat half of the
food before keeling over. And yet Xue Xian had not rested his chopsticks even once since the start
of the meal.
Xue Xian was not a messy eater: his manner did not betray his hunger, instead remaining steady
and calm, and, paired with his face, it was almost a beautiful scene. But...
The zuzong really could eat!
Xue Xian cleaned out all the plates on the table, and then flagged the waiter down to order a
second clay-pot whole chicken, which he gradually picked clean too.
Xuanmin watched, frowning, as Xue Xian swallowed his final bite, then couldn't help but say, "Can
you even stand now?" In other words... Aren't you eating too much?
"It's not like I actually need to walk. You should worry about whether you have enough strength in
your arms," Xue Xian said. He’d had to be carried on and off the boat and the carriage, and had
completely given up on trying to resist it. "Besides, I'm just savoring all the different flavors. When I
really get to it, you could tie up ten men as tall as you and throw them all in a cage, and I'd still be
able to eat them all. I'm exercising restraint here, understand?"
As Xue Xian said this, he spread his arms to outline the size of the cage, those greasy fingers
drifting toward Xuanmin's face.
“...” With a blank expression, Xuanmin picked up a hot towel from the table, wrapped the dragon's
claw with it, and slammed it back onto the table. "Clean your hands before you move them
around," he said.
"You're so fussy..." Xue Xian whined.
The snowstorm did not seem like it would abate before morning, and the horse-drawn carriage they
hired from the innkeeper would also only be able to depart the next day. The group checked into a
few rooms at the inn, planning to stay the night and head to Qingping County first thing tomorrow:
first they'd find Jiang Shining's sister and do the funeral rites for the Jiang parents, and then they'd
follow Lu Nianqi's vision and track down the person who'd commissioned Stone Zhang.
As they bundled up the stairs, Xue Xian happened to be looking idly around the inn and saw a man
standing in the corner, near the entrance to the kitchen.
Xue Xian noticed that the man's hand was bandaged, and recalled the waiter who had first greeted
them and poured their tea. What was his name again...
Oh, right, Qijin. He'd probably been nicknamed for his weight at birth –– appropriate for a weak
baby who might not live past childhood. [d]
As Qijin met Xue Xian's eyes, he first froze, then quickly nodded at Xue Xian and disappeared into
the kitchen.
Xue Xian didn't think much of it. His mind was on something else: since he couldn't walk, he needed
help in case he had to move around at night, so he and Xuanmin were sharing a room. This was
excellent, because he was planning to ask Xuanmin some questions about his amnesia, to try and
see if the criminal the authorities were after really was the bald donkey.
As the group settled into their rooms, Qijin stood in the corner of the kitchen and rubbed his
wounded hand while chatting with the dark-skinned [e] waiter who'd replaced him.
"Are you sure?" the dark-skinned waiter said in a low voice.
"I only saw him one time..." Qijin paused, then added, "Besides, you know that the Guoshi wears a
silver mask every day, so that no one can see any part of his face except for his eyes. At the time, I
was standing at the front, and someone bumped into me from behind. I almost ran right into the
ritual parade. The Guoshi... he glared at me. I was so scared I couldn't move. How do I say this––"
With a dire look on his face, Qijin said, "If you look into those eyes once, you can't forget it for the
rest of your life. That day, I was sweating all over. And when that customer glanced at me, I got
the same feeling. My knees buckled."
The dark-skinned waiter was still skeptical. "But--"
"Plus, although I've never seen the Guoshi’s face, I did get to see the way he looked from the back.
The way he moved, that mannerism, I'll never forget it. And that customer looked exactly the same
from the back!"
"But it doesn't make sense. Why would the Guoshi come to a place like this? Don't they say he's
sealed himself off?"
"You know, those wanted posters all over town these days... They're looking for a monk. The
likeness looks a bit like that customer. Do you think..."
The dark-skinned waiter frowned in thought. Then he said, "Alright. How about when our shift ends,
we go to the yamen?"
Chapter 42: Restaurant Waiter (III)
Xuanmin was extremely picky, and he couldn't stand anything dirty or messy, so all of the rooms
he'd rented were of the highest quality. Although he clearly had a lot of silver pieces, he couldn't
keep spending like this. Xue Xian wondered how long the rest of Xuanmin’s money would last. And
if they really did spend it all, how did Xuanmin plan to get more? Although the bald donkey was
highly skilled, he didn't seem to be the type to start charging for his services.
The best room in this inn wasn’t anywhere near as luxurious as the one at Guiyun Hall, but it was
adequately clean and tiny. The inn boy [a] who'd brought them upstairs had quickly rearranged some
furniture and then returned with fresh tea and a bowl of water for the guests to clean their hands.
"This humble one is always upstairs, so if you need anything, please let me know," the boy said
before retreating.
Although they'd checked into the inn to rest, really only Lu Nianqi and Stone Zhang needed it. Jiang
Shining was a ghost, and Xue Xian didn't really need sleep. And as for Xuanmin...
Xue Xian had already stopped considering Xuanmin as a human. He didn't eat and he didn't sleep -how could he be?
The half-paralysed black dragon had spent all day being bumped up and down in the carriage, and
because he had no feeling in his legs, he had been resting all his weight on his stiff hips. At the end
of the day, he had begun to feel sore. To help the zuzong rest his muscles and regain some energy,
Xuanmin put Xue Xian down on the bed as soon as they entered the room.
Forget the mediocre quality of the rest of the rooms at this inn: the bed was definitely worth the
money. The mattress was thick, fluffy, and comfortable, a welcome respite after all day spent on
the wooden bench in the carriage. Satisfied, Xue Xian stretched his back and flexed his shoulders,
then made himself a nest using the blanket. Leaning back in the bed, he breathed a happy sigh.
Xuanmin sat down by the carved wooden table. He did not seem intent on resting at all.
Xuanmin fiddled with the lantern on the table, and when the flame was stable, he took the poster
back out of his chest pocket and smoothed it out again, falling back into deep thought. The warm
yellow flame cast dark shadows onto his face, making his eye sockets look deeper, the bridge of his
nose look taller, and the lines by his mouth look more severe.
Xue Xian rested his head on one hand and squinted at Xuanmin. Then he suddenly broke the
silence. "Bald donkey?"
Xuanmin hadn't seemed to immediately register that Xue Xian was speaking. Finally, without taking
his eyes off the poster, he said, "Mn?"
Xue Xian raised an eyebrow, but did not look at Xuanmin. "Is that you on the poster or not?"
“...”
That was quite a blunt way of putting it, but it wasn't inconsistent with Xue Xian’s straightforward,
honest personality.
Xue Xian watched as Xuanmin put the poster back down onto a table, keeping a corner lightly
pinched between his fingers. Xuanmin turned to him, as though calculating how to respond without
revealing too much.
From when the bald donkey had first shovelled Xue Xian up from the Jiang compound floor to now,
not that much time had actually passed. Maybe it was because they'd already experienced so much
together that it had stretched out time, but sometimes Xue Xian would suddenly feel as though
they had known each other for a long time, or even that they were deeply familiar with one
another.
Xue Xian could tell that Xuanmin was a cautious person –– in all this time, he'd divulged nothing at
all about himself. It could've simply been his natural reticence, but part of it might also have been
the amnesia. Xue Xian wasn't completely heartless; he understood.
To be honest, [b] if Xue Xian one day lost his memories too, he would not trust anyone or talk to
anyone either. He’d immediately kick up a fuss and focus on getting his memories back before
doing anything else. If anyone tried to stop him, he’d surely make them regret it.
But right now their situation was rather unique. They were travelling together, and thus stuck
together, like two locusts tied on a string. If Xuanmin wasn't the man on the poster, that was one
thing, and if Xuanmin was the man on the poster, that was another thing. They had to be prepared
for any event. They couldn't very well sit around and wait for someone to come knocking on the
door before having figured out a plan.
"Bald donkey, how about this," Xue Xian said soberly. "Let's make a deal. Are you okay with that?"
Xuanmin was not. This niezhang clearly did not know how to play fair.
Xuanmin continued to stare at the poster and did not say anything to decline Xue Xian’s proposal.
After all, if Xue Xian had his mind set on something, you agreeing to it was only a formality. It
didn't actually affect the outcome.
Xue Xian saw from Xuanmin's manner that he'd wordlessly said: Go ahead and I'll try to tolerate
whatever it is you're up to now. So Xue Xian said, "The two of us don't know each other well
enough. If we get into trouble, it'll be hard to handle––"
Xuanmin finally glanced at him, as though surprised that Xue Xian was being serious for once.
Xue Xian continued: "Let's ask each other some important questions. If I ask you a question and you
can give me an answer, then I'll let you ask me a question. But if you can't answer or don't want to
answer, then you have to give me a silver piece. What do you think?" Xue Xian's eyes glinted as if to
say, Look how nice I'm being!
Xuanmin was speechless.
You really know how to make a deal with an amnesiac. 'If you can't answer you have to pay me'?
You're clearly just after the money.
“…Why don't you just take it," Xuanmin said. He reached into his pouch and took out all of the
silver pieces, then lightly, carefully tossed them toward the bed.
Xue Xian gritted his teeth, but caught the silver pieces and weighed them in his palm anyway.
Finally, he said, "I'm not keeping this. Let's try it a different way."
Xuanmin really was a high priest, with no concern for earthly things like money. Having given away
all of his silver, Xuanmin was immediately drawn back to the poster again, and refused to engage
Xue Xian any further.
Xue Xian tapped the headboard and snapped, "Look at me. I'm being serious."
Xuanmin seemed to find Xue Xian’s lazy, reclining position to be an eyesore –– more so than usual.
Without lifting his eyes, he finally said, "Speak."
"How about this, I'll be the generous one. I ask you questions, and if you can answer, I'll give you a
golden pearl. If you can't answer, then we'll just leave it be until you do remember. Of course, if
there's a question you don't want to answer, you can just say you don't remember."
As he spoke, Xue Xian moved the silver pieces around on the mattress, as though placing a big bet.
"See?" he said. "What's yours is yours. I won't take anything. You don't stand to make a loss, and you
could even win some. What do you think?"
In truth, Xuanmin had been the one paying for everything so far, and it was beginning to add up.
Xue Xian hated owing others, whether this was in terms of kindness or coin, and he always tried to
pay back more than he owed. But his issue was that he hated to do so directly and insisted on
devising all sorts of strange ways of repaying his debt. It was a little eccentric.
Hearing Xue Xian's proposition, Xuanmin finally lifted his head, intrigued that the zuzong would
willingly do something to his own detriment. Had the sun risen in the west today?
"If you don't say no, I'll take that as a yes," Xue Xian said, his mind already drifting away. Where
should I start...
Of course, Xue Xian knew that Xuanmin didn't care for money: naturally, Xuanmin would never say
anything he didn't want to say just to gain a bit of gold. Before Xue Xian had even begun to ask, he
suspected that the bald donkey wouldn't answer most of them.
But... any answers were still answers.
"How come you'll sometimes wake up and not recognise anyone? Where does that come from?" Xue
Xian asked.
Xuanmin only frowned and stared at the flame in the lantern, saying nothing.
“...” Great, Xue Xian thought. Immediate failure.
Just as Xue Xian was about to give up on the first question, Xuanmin suddenly said in a deep tone,
"I do not remember. It has been like this for a number of months. It suddenly happens, and then it
takes me one or two days to recover. These days I seem to be recovering faster."
Xue Xian was stunned. Huh? He really answered?
As Xuanmin spoke, his hand moved to his neck. He frowned and asked, "Last time, you told me to
touch my neck. Why?"
"You haven't seen it?" Xue Xian asked, but then remembered that, whenever Xuanmin woke up from
his daze, the mole would have already gone back to normal. He really would never have seen that
strange spider shape. "Whenever you're in that state, thin blood vessels will creep out of that mole
on your neck. It looks like a spider. But as soon as you touch it, the spider legs go away, and you
stop being stupid."
Xuanmin: “...”
From the look on Xuanmin's face, Xue Xian guessed that Xuanmin really didn't know anything about
the mole. So he said, "Okay, so that was one answer."
Xue Xian reached a hand into his sleeve and rummaged around in there for what seemed to be an
absurd amount of time. Finally, he took out a handful of small golden pearls the size of peanuts and
threw one into Xuanmin's pile of silver.
"…Where do you keep all those pearls?" Xuanmin asked.
Xue Xian cocked an eyebrow. "I'm a divine being, you know. There are plenty of places for me to
hide things. It's just inconvenient to take it out in public, so I've been spending yours."
Then Xue Xian asked, "You said this has been happening for a few months. What do you mean?"
This time Xuanmin didn't think for too long. He candidly said, "It means what you think it means.
When I woke up, I was alone at a funeral station [c] in a mountain in Langzhou."
"Funeral station?" Xue Xian was stunned.
Funeral stations were a local feature of the regions in the western Xiang. [d] They were places for
people transporting dead bodies [e] to rest and shelter from rain. Because of the aura of death,
living people avoided such places at all costs.
"Why were you there?" Xue Xian asked.
Xuanmin shook his head and said, "I do not remember anything anymore. When I opened my eyes,
all I had on me were the copper coin pendant, a book on geomancy and spells, a random sheet of
paper covered in notes, and some yellow talismanic papers."
"So you don't remember who you were, where you came from, where you were going, what you
were going there for?" Xue Xian suddenly felt a wave of sympathy for the bald donkey. Anyone
waking to find themselves alone at a funeral station in the middle of nowhere, with no memories
about what they were doing, was likely to go insane.
Xuanmin shook his head again. "At the time, I remembered nothing. In the time since, I will
sometimes remember some fragments, but forget them by the next day."
"So what did you do?" Xue Xian couldn't help but ask.
"I decided to start noting down the things I could remember on the piece of paper. I keep it on me,
and whenever I feel confused, I look at it again," Xuanmin replied.
"Oh," Xue Xian said. "And that's the piece of paper you asked Lu Shijiu to check at Gravestone
Island? You can't recognise your own handwriting?"
"When I woke up, there was already text on the paper. The handwriting could have been forged,”
Xuanmin replied.
Xue Xian understood. "You thought someone might forge your own handwriting and use that to
mislead you."
"Mn."
"So what do you remember?" Xue Xian asked, dropping two more golden pearls into Xuanmin's
money pile.
"Too messy to make sense of," Xuanmin replied. "Something about the copper coin pendant, some
place names, and... one thing."
"What thing?"
"Find this person," Xuanmin said. "I remember that I am looking for someone. I owe them
something. I cannot rest until I have repaid my debt."
Xuanmin’s low, soft voice gently filled the room, and although there was still that certain coldness
to his tone, somehow it all felt... very melancholy, so that even a stranger would be able to detect
a sense of tragedy in his speech.
This was the first time Xue Xian had seen Xuanmin in such a state. It suddenly made Xuanmin seem
more human.
And suddenly, for some reason, Xue Xian felt as though something had lodged itself inside his heart,
refusing to budge no matter how he tried to make it move. It felt so weird!
Xue Xian stared at Xuanmin for a while, then kept his tone neutral as he said, "Okay, I have no more
questions. You can take the money."
He returned the remaining golden pearls into his sleeve, to wherever it was that he kept them.
Who knew what kind of mechanism he used for it.
In truth, Xue Xian hadn't learned all that much. He still didn't know if Xuanmin was the criminal on
the poster. But he wasn't in the mood to ask more questions, and couldn't be bothered to. He saw
Xuanmin falter, as though he, too, found Xue Xian’s sudden coldness inexplicable.
Just as Xuanmin stood up to make his way to the bed, Xue Xian suddenly thought he could hear the
faintest noise behind the wall, light and subtle. Something that sounded a bit like the clinking
together of weapons.
The city was under curfew already, so the only people allowed to carry weapons were… those who
worked in the yamen?
Chapter 43: Plague County (I)
The two waiters led the yamen clerks around the inn building and pointed up at a shut window on
the second floor. In low voices, they said, "Daren, it's that one."
These two worked in customer service all day long, so obviously knew just the right things to say––
As ordinary townspeople, they did not know nor care about the wider context of that wanted
poster, but they knew to be extremely careful when they reported the monk. They couldn't just
barge in and say, "There's a monk in our shop who looks exactly like the Guoshi," as, if they turned
out to have been mistaken, they would have offended all parties and gotten their eyeballs poked
out for a good wash. They also couldn't say, "The monk looks exactly like that wanted poster all
over town," because what if, somehow, the monk really was the Guoshi or connected to the Guoshi?
The Guoshi would definitely not be happy that they had accused him of being a criminal, and they'd
be in real trouble.
The two waiters had pondered this for a while, then had decided to tell the yamen, "There's a monk
in our inn who seems very strange." If the yamen clerks wanted to know what precisely made the
monk ‘strange’, that was not the waiters' problem.
Even so, as the waiters led the clerks back to the inn, they began to feel conflicted again. They
didn't know why, but somehow they felt anxious about it all.
Although the men outside the inn had made their voices as low as they could, Xue Xian, curled up
on the bed, heard every word.
They were surrounded again.
They were... surrounded... by the yamen... again!
That bald donkey must have been born under the wrong stars. Out of the three cities they'd visited,
they'd gotten onto the radar of two yamen, and each time the clerks had come directly to break
down the door!
The weird feeling that had settled into Xue Xian earlier had still not dissipated. Xue Xian turned
over in the bed so that his back was to Xuanmin now. He re-entered that cycle known as ‘three
days annoyed at Xuanmin, five days pissed off at Xuanmin’.
As always, Xuanmin's steps were completely silent, but Xue Xian could still feel their presence by
their weight on the floorboards.
He could feel that Xuanmin had walked up to the bed and was standing there, looking at him.
Xue Xian assumed, based on Xuanmin's stuck-up and detached personality, that Xuanmin had come
over to do one thing –– pick up the money that Xue Xian had snapped at him to take.
But Xuanmin did not move at all, not toward the mattress nor toward the pile of gold and silver. He
simply stood there by the bed, saying not a word.
“...”
Why is he just standing there stiff as a pole, not saying anything?!
Still staring at the wall, Xue Xian frowned. He really didn't enjoy being stared at like this. With
strangers, it was tolerable, since he saw them as mere dust on the ground anyway; he could ignore
them, or reach out a claw and swat them away. But it was different with the bald donkey. When
others stared at Xue Xian, it merely made him irritated, but under Xuanmin's gaze, his entire head
from the top of his skull to the base of his neck felt completely frozen.
His whole dragon skin was going to peel off...
When will this end? If you have something to say, damn monk, just say it...
Xue Xian was so tense from self-consciousness that he was practically turning into a stick of dragon
jerky right there on the bed. In his mind he muttered angrily to himself, but in reality he said
nothing.
The silence in the room was unnerving.
For a brief moment, everything seemed to vanish from Xue Xian's sharp hearing –– from the noises
next door to the movements outside the window and the hush of the street under curfew –– all of it
was gone, hanging in the air, suffocated by that silence. Even Xue Xian didn't realise that it was
because he was still waiting for Xuanmin to speak.
Since Xuanmin had been standing there for so long unmoving, the thing he wanted to say had to
be... unusual. There was no reason to hold back otherwise. Was he about to give more detail on
who it was that he was looking for? Or something else?
The yamen clerks Xue Xian had heard beneath the window were probably already entering the inn
and creeping up the stairs by now. Still, Xuanmin said nothing.
“...” Xue Xian had already died multiple times in his mind. Why don't you just choke on your words
and die already?
Gradually, the yamen clerks' voices wormed their way back into Xue Xian's ear: "Be careful where
you step. We don't want to alert them. We'll go to the door, and you guys watch the window."
Xue Xian laughed coldly. If you keep holding it back, you can go hold it in the yamen jail.
“You ––" Xuanmin finally said, something indescribable in his tone making Xue Xian feel even tenser.
Xue Xian was a divine dragon, and he was getting all worked up over a single word from a mere
mortal? What the hell?
Xue Xian wasn't even breathing anymore. He waited and waited for Xuanmin to finish his sentence.
But having just said the word You, the fucking bald donkey had fallen silent again.
Xuanmin should be glad this zuzong wasn't in his dragon form at that moment. Xue Xian was feeling
so nervous that he would've brought the whole inn down!
The yamen clerks had made their way into the inn from the back door, but had seemed to have
attracted some attention from others in the building, causing a small commotion.
Xue Xian heard Xuanmin's robes suddenly move a little –– Xuanmin seemed to have noticed the noise
below, and turned to look at the doorway. With that, the indescribable feeling in the atmosphere
disappeared, leaving no trace at all.
When Xuanmin turned his head back, he saw that the zuzong was throwing some kind of tantrum
again. Xue Xian had burrowed his head deep into the nest of blankets, as though he'd given up on
life and was ready to suffocate right then and there.
Actually, Xue Xian was angrily thinking, Fine, it’s your life you’re throwing away. Get caught if you
want. I can get away anytime.
With that thought, his body began to glow dimly with a white light.
Deng deng deng––
Now that they were this close, the clerks had given up trying to be quiet. Their footsteps were
alarmingly loud as they boomed rapidly up the stairs.
And beneath the window, where more guards stood, there was a slicing sound, like swords being
slipped out of scabbards.
So the door and the window were both blocked.
The yamen clerks turned the corner and marched toward the door to Xuanmin and Xue Xian’s room,
pushing away the inn boy stationed in the corridor.
And in that instant, the human form on the bed vanished and a long black shadow emerged from
the blankets, growing larger and larger as it slithered out.
Hong––
The wall against which the bed had been leaning fell away, revealing a shocked Stone Zhang and Lu
Nianqi sitting next door.
Xuanmin was briefly stunned, too –– he hadn't expected the zuzong to turn into a dragon so
casually. When Xuanmin came back to his senses, he saw that he was holding a black robe, thrown
to him by Xue Xian, who seemed to have relegated him to some kind of clothes-holding sidekick
role.
Even more typical, as the zuzong tossed Xuanmin the robe, he didn't forget to take back the golden
pearls he’d tucked inside his sleeve earlier. With a flick of his claw, Xue Xian sent the pearls
spinning, and they swiftly disappeared into him, somehow slipping into his scales.
Xuanmin: “...”
Xue Xian had broken down the wall –– the yamen clerks had to know that something was happening
inside.
There came a loud shout from beyond the door: "Don't bother! We have you surrounded on all sides,
you have no way of escaping!"
As the clerk yelled, his companions began to ram against the door.
In the moment that the door was forced open, the leading clerk even sneered, "There's nothing you
can do. Unless you broke down the roof and flew out––"
He stopped.
The crowd of clerks standing by the door wondered if they were all dreaming...
No, they were definitely dreaming.
The leading clerk's mouth was still hanging open mid-speech as he gaped at the black dragon curled
up inside the room.
The dragon was inconceivably large –– just its tail part filled the entire room. The bed had been
crushed, and the wall beside it had been reduced to rubble as easily as one might slice through
tofu, leaving behind only a thin frame on all four sides.
But... what kind of knife could slice a wall like tofu?!
Then, the leading clerk noticed that the enormous black dragon had already broken down much of
the roof, and that the top half of its body reached outside, sprawled across the sloping roof of the
inn. The whole building seemed to be sagging in one direction under its weight.
The clerks' faces were still frozen in bewilderment and terror when the dragon lowered its heavy
head and looked at them through the gap in the roof. Then, it reached out a claw and seized the
equally stunned middle-aged man and skinny boy from the neighboring room. At the same time, it
nudged its head and lifted a young monk wearing a white robe onto its back.
The black dragon glared at the clerks once more, then let out a bright roar as its head stretched
out.
Instantly, the wind and clouds above responded, and lightning flashed in the distance,
intermittently lighting up the dark night sky. Thunder rippled toward the inn from its epicenter
somewhere far away, booming increasingly louder.
Then, an enormous, deafening gust of wind blasted into the room.
The black dragon mounted the wind and ascended to the clouds above. As it departed, its long
black shadow flitted in and out of the clouds, pirouetting in the air before vanishing into the
darkness.
Whether they'd been standing by the door or waiting beneath the window, all of the yamen clerks ––
as well as those two waiters, and the handful of nearby townspeople who'd happened to look up in
that moment –– had seen that dragon fly away into the sky, and could not believe their eyes.
The leading clerk had not even managed to see what Xuanmin looked like -- he only remembered
that cloud-like robe.
Shortly after the dragon disappeared, the dark clouds he'd summoned began to pour with torrential
rain.
The storm was overwhelming, and as the raindrops slapped onto the clerks' faces, they felt so cold
that there were chills down their spines.
Finally, the clerks came back to their senses. One of them murmured, "They... they really did break
down the roof... and fly out..."
The man's voice seemed squeezed out of the very bottom of his throat, and sounded strained,
perhaps from the shock, or from the cold.
Hearing this, the leading clerk's lips began to tremble, and he turned pale. "We... we were here to
arrest the monk, right?"
"Ah," his colleagues stuttered. "Right..."
"Just now in the sky... that was a dragon, right?" the leading clerk asked, still in a daze.
"Right..."
"That monk, did you see it ––" The leading clerk turned his face to the skies again. "That monk flew
away with the dragon..."
"Right..."
The clerks stretched their necks out as far as they'd go and gawked into the night together like a
group of meerkats. Apart from Right... they seemed to have forgotten how to speak. Only when
their uniforms had become completely drenched in freezing rain did they suddenly truly realise
what had just happened––
A monk! Riding a dragon!
Was it every day that you saw a mythical, divine creature like a dragon?
But that monk actually rode the dragon into the sky; was it every day that you saw a monk like
that?
The same thought seemed to flash simultaneously across the clerks' minds. They slowly looked at
each other as their faces shifted from terror to confusion to revelation. "Could it be... that
he's... that person?"
In all the nation, they could only think of one monk who was powerful enough to tame a dragon––
That mysterious masked Guoshi, whose face no one had ever seen.
The speed at which rumors can sometimes spread across a town is terrifying. Within the night, all
of Huazhi County began to speak of one thing –– the Guoshi was back!
The previously unremarkable inn immediately exploded with customers as crowds came to gawp at
its roof and at the two waiters who had been witness to it all. After being interrogated by the
authorities, the neighbors all swarmed in too, eager to hear the waiters’ tale.
As Huazhi Xian Cheng whipped itself into a frenzy, the black dragon and white-clad monk in
question were swimming in a lake not far from Qingping County.
Stone Zhang and Lu Nianqi were still in shock from the flight and floated corpse-like on the surface
of the water. Even as the group reached the shore and Xuanmin dragged them each out, they
continued to gaze off into space in stunned silence.
Jiang Shining had long reverted to his paper man form. As he shivered on a patch of dry grass by
the water, he glanced at the mess of pagodas and towers in the distance and asked Xue Xian,
"Zuzong, could you not land in such a traumatic way next time?"
Irritated, Xue Xian pointed at those faraway city gates. "A landing is a landing," he snapped. "We
didn't even have to spend money on a carriage. Look at the city gates. Can you read? Read it with
me: Qing –– Ping –– County. I brought you to your sister's front door, and you're still complaining
about this and that. You should be ashamed of yourself!"
Chapter 44: Plague County (II)
His Honorable Lord Xue [a] was a drama queen at heart. Even when he was running away, he had to
run in an extravagant, awe-striking, tempest-whipping manner, as if it was an insult to his dignity
to tone down his performance even by a little bit. But, due to his half-paralysis, his tail had a hard
time cooperating.
"It was all thanks to the wind I summoned that we were able to control our direction," Xue Xian said
lazily, patting his knee. He was reclining against a tree by the lake, his entire body dripping with
water. "It's like walking. Obviously there's going to be a bit of turbulence. It goes without saying."
In reality, it had not been 'a bit' of turbulence: it had been excessive turbulence, enough to shake
the brains out of his passengers.
The entire way, Stone Zhang had fervently asked the beast to hook his claws tighter –– If only I had
eight limbs, Stone Zhang had thought, so that I could wrap myself around this one’s claws like a
cuttlefish! Each time Xue Xian had flipped as he flew, or whenever Xue Xian had flown higher,
Stone Zhang would feel both ecstatic that he was genuinely flying, and so terrified he could not
stop his wails and cries. The experience had probably scared his soul right out of him.
As they’d glided through the sky, Jiang Shining had felt extremely fortunate and clairvoyant to have
had the sense, back at the inn, to fold himself back into a paper man and slide into Lu Nianqi's
chest pocket. Jiang Shining was light, and the pocket was a safe place, so he had not feared falling
off, and thankfully had not screamed away all of his dignity like Stone Zhang had.
But even Jiang Shining had only enjoyed a brief moment of celebration. Xue Xian had flown too
fast, and had not been able to control the wind to soften his landing, especially with that paralysed
tail. Unable to come up with a suitable solution, Xue Xian had looked around and found a lake that
seemed to be wide and deep enough for them to drop into.
Of course, an enormous beast smashing head-first into a lake at full speed would no doubt cause
half the lake to splash out and rumble the foundations of the city wall nearby.
The zuzong must have thought himself extremely clever. As he saw that braking was impossible,
he’d transformed back into a human midway. He’d even had the time to take his robe back from
Xuanmin's hands.
Then there had been four little plunks as the group had fallen one by one into the water.
As soon as Xue Xian had hit the water, he had been scooped up by the waist by Xuanmin.
We could say that the two had then swum toward shore, but all Xue Xian could do in his state was
superficially wiggle his arms –– naturally, Xuanmin had carried him to shore.
Stone Zhang and Lu Nianqi had only been harshly slapped by the water, but Jiang Shining was
almost soaked through –– after all, his skin was made of paper, not metal. He had already been at
risk of dissolving into pieces several times.
Now, Xuanmin had laid Jiang Shining out to dry on top of some dry grass, and he looked like a real
survivor. He still didn't dare to move, fearing that any small thing might result in dismemberment.
There was still some lingering panic in Jiang Shining's heart. "Zuzong, what were you thinking?” How
could you throw us all down from such a great height?
Xue Xian stacked his elbow against a nearby rock and said, "I had a flash of inspiration."
“...” All Jiang Shining could do was silently curse him.
[b]
Leaning lethargically against a tree — with his black robe in complete disarray, hanging loose and
misshapen off his frame — the zuzong looked to be the pinnacle of relaxation.
Xuanmin hated the feeling of being wet, so he drew a talisman on his palm and instantly dried out
his robe, turning the white hemp pristine again. He took a few steps across the damp grass and,
with his still gashed finger, drew quick lines of blood across Stone Zhang and Lu Nianqi's foreheads.
He even dotted Jiang Shining's trembling, mushy paper body.
The blood marks quickly disappeared.
"I feel... as though a fire is cooking me," Jiang Shining said carefully.
"Clothes-cleaning spell," [c] Xuanmin explained. The reason why he'd only written a half-complete
talismanic text on them was because the spell came with a flash of heat, and he hadn't wanted
them to be distressed.
Jiang Shining's paper-thin body quickly turned dry, and he finally felt a bit less anxious, settling
into the patch of grass with gusto.
Xue Xian tugged at his collar. His soaked robes were clinging to his body, heavy and uncomfortable.
Just as he'd decided to direct that latent, simmering heat within him to the surface of his skin and
warm the clothes from the inside, Xue Xian saw that Xuanmin was now striding his way.
Although Xuanmin’s outfit of white looked far too inauspicious in the eyes of ordinary people, Xue
Xian had to admit that it was indeed beautiful, resembling a smudge of white fog in the dark night.
The hem of Xuanmin's robe brushed lightly against the stalks of dry grass, yet picked up not a speck
of dirt.
Xuanmin stopped in front of Xue Xian and looked down at him. Xue Xian sat there, lifting his face to
stare back at Xuanmin neutrally.
Back at the inn, when he'd been waiting for Xuanmin to say what he'd wanted to say, Xue Xian had
thought he would die of stress. If he had to wait for Xuanmin to speak again all while holding within
him that utterly indescribable feeling, he feared that his brain would melt into fish food.
"Don't block my view," Xue Xian said.
Xuanmin was standing and he was sitting –– if Xue Xian looked straight ahead instead of angling his
neck upwards, all he could see was Xuanmin’s hand.
Just as Xue Xian's glance began to move away, that hand dangling by his face suddenly moved.
Xuanmin stood rigidly, looking down at him as he gently lifted Xue Xian's chin with the crook of his
finger. He brought Xue Xian's face upward and moved that still bleeding fingertip toward his
forehead.
That touch to the chin had stunned Xue Xian. His eyes shot to Xuanmin's approaching finger ––
maybe it was just him, but Xue Xian felt as though Xuanmin’s bleeding finger stalled for a moment
in front of his face.
In that one short moment, Xue Xian had expected Xuanmin's finger to come into contact with his
face, yet it stopped and lingered –– imperceptibly, for just a heartbeat –– before finally moving up
and pressing down onto the center of Xue Xian’s forehead. The touch was neither heavy nor light,
but dragged the blood gently, drawing a line. Xue Xian's eyes flitted up. He saw that reliably coldas-ice, too-cold-to-melt-snow face of Xuanmin's, as Xuanmin rested his own calm gaze on Xue Xian's
forehead. It was as though Xuanmin were doing something he wouldn't normally do, something he
wasn't used to.
Xue Xian didn't know what the streak of blood on his forehead looked like, but he could feel that
the sticky, oppressive robes around his body had already begun to dry at an alarming rate.
He tugged at his robes and complained, "Will you die if you bend just a little?"
Xuanmin's hands dropped as he finally looked into Xue Xian's eyes. "Not turning your back to me
anymore?"
Xue Xian: “...”
Xue Xian wanted to smash the rock he was leaning against directly into the bald donkey's face. "I do
what I want. Just try and stop me. Get lost!"
Xuanmin's temperament was always mild, and he had never acquired the habit of trying to guess
what those around him were feeling. On the other hand, Xue Xian could flip through emotions
quicker than the pages of a book, oscillating between clinging to someone and banishing them. It
was as if someone who had never walked in his life were suddenly able to walk on water: the
difference was just far too marked.
As Xue Xian barked at Xuanmin to leave, he saw that the bald donkey remained standing there
looking at him for some time before faithfully getting lost. Xue Xian felt disdain rise within him like
blood that he could spit right onto the bald donkey's face.
Now fully dry, Jiang Shining got up from the grass and puffed back into his humanlike form. As soon
as he turned his head, he caught sight of Xue Xian's bleak face.
"What's wrong?" Jiang Shining asked. He thought for a while, then said, "Are you hungry again after
the journey?"
"Mn," Xue Xian replied darkly. "My teeth are itchy. I want to eat human meat."
“...” Speechless, Jiang Shining glanced anxiously in Stone Zhang and Lu Nianqi's direction.
In fact, Xuanmin hadn't gone far. He had simply walked over to Stone Zhang and Lu Nianqi and
begun to set up a rudimentary stack of branches between them. Xuanmin magically dried the wood,
struck a match from his pocket, and lit a small bonfire, so that the two weaker ones wouldn't
freeze to death while waiting for their clothes to dry.
Having lit the fire, Xuanmin came back and stood in front of Xue Xian again.
Xue Xian glared at him. "What now?"
Xuanmin unhooked the copper coin pendant from his hip and rubbed it with his thumb. Then he
said to Xue Xian, "Your hand."
Suspicious, Xue Xian extended his hand. Xuanmin placed the pendant into his palm and said, "Some
spiritual tools [d] deplete their spiritual power after a certain amount of time, but can be used for
their other effects."
As he said this, Xuanmin glanced at Xue Xian's paralysed legs.
Of course, Xue Xian had heard of this idea before, but ‘spiritual tools’ were instruments used by
mortals and of no use to him, so he had never thought about it. He knew, for instance, that the
fact that copper coin pendants became covered in a layer of oil after some time was precisely
because their spiritual power was being slowly depleted through use. These sensitive spiritual tools
were excellent accessories: their functions ranged from calculating feng shui to controlling the five
natural elements. As long as you had the skill, you could do anything.
You could do anything, which implied... it could even help someone grow his body back.
Having seen Xuanmin scan his legs, Xue Xian understood what Xuanmin meant. Only...
To most practitioners, such spiritual tools were as precious as life. Even for another person to touch
the object would be a great offense, so it was completely unheard of to willingly put it in someone
else's hands.
Xue Xian stared at the pendant in his own palm and could not think of anything to say, nor even
how to feel.
Finally, he couldn't help but say, "Did you eat rat poison?"
Xuanmin: “...”
This zuzong seemed incredulous. Xue Xian dangled the pendant in front of Xuanmin and swung it,
then swung it again... giving Xuanmin the opportunity to take it back.
But as Xue Xian swung it for the third time, Xuanmin pushed Xue Xian's claw back and said, "There
is a seal on the coins that has not yet been undone. But it should still be useful. I don't need it at
the moment, so you can have it."
"Seal?" Xue Xian repeated, surprised, but quickly seemed to understand –– so that's why the coins
looked so drab and grey, as if they were ordinary coins with no magic in them at all. But... "Who
sealed them? You?"
Xuanmin shook his head. "I do not remember. Each coin has its own seal. Recently, two of them
seem to have started to come loose. Perhaps they will be undone soon."
Xue Xian bit the tip of his tongue and pondered this. In the end, he accepted the pendant –– before,
when he'd been a paper man and then a marble, he had been able to take advantage of his small
size to reside in Xuanmin’s pouch and let whatever was in Xuanmin’s pelvic bones quicken his
healing. But now that he'd returned to his original body, whether he was in human form or dragon
form, Xue Xian could no longer go ahead and stick to Xuanmin's hip.
Imagine that... Even thinking about it made Xue Xian’s eyes hurt, let alone actually making it a
reality. It was because of this change that, in recent days, Xue Xian's healing process had slowed
down significantly. He could still feel the process happening inside him, but compared to before it
was far slower. He didn't want to constantly drag his two paralysed legs around, waiting for others
to carry him places.
It was downright humiliating.
Xue Xian mulled this all over. Then he clutched the pendant tighter and closed his eyes to focus on
healing his spine.
A half-complete talisman not being as effective as a full talisman, it took some time for Stone
Zhang and Lu Nianqi's clothes, and their shocked faces, to return to some semblance of normal.
Once Lu Nianqi recovered, he immediately felt guilty for burdening the rest of the group. He asked
Jiang Shining, "Aren't you in a hurry?"
Jiang Shining, sitting on a rock not far from him, looked back at the dim lantern glow of the distant
city. "We have to wait for wu geng. We're right at the door anyway, so there's no rush."
There was a curfew within the city at night, and its gates were shut tight, with no one allowed to
leave or enter unless it was an emergency. Even if they did get in, it wasn't as if they could go
knocking on someone's door in the middle of the night. But it seemed that much of the night had
already gone by, and the wu geng bells would be ringing soon.
"The last time I saw my sister was three years ago. She came back to Ningyang after she got the
news," Jiang Shining muttered. "I can't remember much of what happened after I died –– it only got
better after I became a paper man –– but I do remember how much she cried. I can even hear it
now..."
Once the wu geng bells rang and the city gates opened, the townspeople would slowly begin to
rouse too. Jiang Shining would be able to see his sister again, make sure she was doing well, and
finally help the trapped souls of their parents transcend.
Throughout his short life, Jiang Shining had never really spent much time away from home and
family. He was not familiar with that strange, nervous feeling that appeared when one was close to
returning to one’s home.
But now, by the shores of that unknown lake, gazing at the gates of a city he was supposed to
consider as a second home, Jiang Shining realised that he only needed to wait a little bit longer
before all of his problems would disappear, leaving him free and at ease forever. With that, he
suddenly felt a sense of hesitation...
Dang––
After a long wait, that wu geng bell finally rippled forth from the city center.
The group quickly tidied up and made their way to the city wall. With a creak, the ancient gates
were pushed open by the guards and the view of the town within was revealed to them, along with
a mysterious smell.
Chapter 45: Plague County (III)
"Ugh!" Stone Zhang broke down into a coughing fit as the stench flooded his throat. Grimacing, he
pinched his nose with one hand and fanned himself with the other, complaining, "What is that
smell? It smells like medicine, but mixed in with something else... like mould."
"This is what it smells like when you mix fresh medicinal paste with the mouldy residue of old
medicine," Jiang Shining said. He didn't need to hold his nose –– he was used to such smells.
In a room at the back of the Jiang compound had been a row of little stoves, which had gurgled
every day with the sound of churning medicine, filling the whole compound with the thick stench of
herbs. Every year, amid the fourth-month showers, the medicine residue that they stashed by the
door in the mornings would, by evening, begin to emit a stark rotten smell. So the mixture of these
two scents was not unfamiliar to Jiang Shining.
But how big was the Jiang compound, and how big was Qingping County? For such a strong stench to
pour out as soon as the city gates opened, there had to be at least a dozen households nearby
making fresh medicine and throwing out old residue.
How could that many people be ill at the same time?
The group suddenly felt a sense of foreboding...
Jiang Shining's face hardened as he moved to step into the city. But in a series of slashes, the city
guards all brandished their swords and gathered into formation in front of the gate, blocking the
group's way.
"This xian cheng is not currently open for passage. Please return," a guard said harshly.
"If I may ask, officers, why is it not open for passage?" Jiang Shining asked nervously.
Still strict, the guard barked, "That is not for you to know. Please return!"
But as he said this, the guard’s eyes couldn't help but dart in Xuanmin's direction. The guard beside
him, who had a square face, pointed his sword at the bundle in Xuanmin's arms and shouted, "Why
are you bringing a dead person into the city? Are you trying to bring bad luck to us all?"
He reached out to push Xuanmin away, trying to herd the group farther from the gates.
“Pa––”
Just as the square-faced guard's hand was about to come into contact with Xuanmin, the black
cloth on Xue Xian's face shifted and a white hand shot out to grip the man's wrist. Xue Xian turned
to him darkly and said, "We're just talking here. Why are you trying to push us?"
"Ah––!" Stunned, the guard tried to yank his hand back, but found that he could not.
It really had not occurred to this guard that the person draped beneath that black cloth might still
be alive, so Xue Xian's appearance had come as a nasty shock. His neck flushing red with
embarrassment, the guard shouted, "How dare you! What are your intentions behind such trickery?"
He looked down at Xue Xian's thin white fingers and thought that they did not seem to be
particularly strong. Roughly, he tried to yank his arm away again, but those fingers were like iron,
and refused to let go.
"Let go!" the guard ordered, glaring at Xue Xian.
"Sure," Xue Xian said idly. "First tell us why the city is shut, and whether there might be room for a
bending of the rules."
The zuzong’s tone was a casual and polite one, but with his tight grip on the guard's wrist, it made
him seem all the more threatening.
Seeing the situation, the other guards began to shuffle forward, as though planning to surround the
group. Still holding Xue Xian in his arms, Xuanmin lightly shut his eyes and muttered something
inaudible, then tapped his right foot against the ground.
The guards felt a tremor in the ground that sent them all stumbling –– right back to where they'd
been standing before.
Bewildered, the guards said, "Earthquake?"
It appeared that the previous earthquake in Anqing Prefecture had made a mark on them. That
slight tremor had scared all the guards stiff –– they looked at each other with trepidation, afraid to
make another move, as though waiting for the earth to shake again.
"Let go!" The square-faced guard was becoming desperate. He bent his knees and tried to pull his
hand away once more, yelling, "It's not that we don't want to tell you. You can see for yourself that
there have been troubles in Qingping County lately. Our homes keep shaking and the plague is
spreading. When we ask you to leave, it's for your own good!"
"Plague?" Xue Xian asked. "There's plague in Qingping County?"
Seeing that the group wasn't going to go away anytime soon, the square-faced guard sighed and
shook his head. "After the earthquake a few days ago, several cracks appeared along the ground
and strange black bugs crawled out. The townspeople who were bitten by the bugs have all grown
rashes, but they can't scratch the rashes no matter how much it hurts or itches, because if the rash
bursts, it will soon start to rot with gangrene. It's a horrifying sight."
"What about the doctors?" Jiang Shining couldn't help but ask. "Could they not treat the illness in
time?"
"At first, we had no idea that so many people had the illness. Some went to the doctor, but others
saw it as a minor issue and tried to deal with it themselves. But then we discovered that it was
contagious..." The guard lowered his voice, so that his tone now sounded ominous. "The spread has
been unusually fast. Can't you smell the medicine all over town?"
"Stop wasting your breath on them!" The other guards had realised that another earthquake was not
imminent, and were standing straight again, getting ready to chase the group away.
If you keep blocking me like this, then don't blame me for pulling out all the stops, Xue Xian
thought.
This zuzong had always done what he wanted, acting without restraint. Although the guards weren't
being illogical, Xue Xian really did need to get into the city, and would do so no matter what ––
even if he had to turn back into a dragon and fly them in.
As the guards marched closer, seemingly ready to use force, a dark-skinned guard standing at the
back of the group suddenly cried out and pointed at the square-faced guard's neck. "Lige, [a] your... the back of your neck!"
"What is it?" Hearing his friend's tone of voice, the square-faced guard became anxious. His hand
shot to his neck. That morning, as he'd put on his uniform, he'd felt something off in that part of his
body, but had chalked it up to the friction of his collar –– he'd been in a hurry to get to his shift,
and had not thought of it further.
"You have a rash!" Another guard brought a lantern over to see, then backed away. "The size of two
thumbs!"
The others had been inching forward to take a look for themselves, but as they heard this, they all
scattered away like the breaking of a wave.
"Oh..." Xue Xian said. "So that's what those rashes look like. You have one between your thumb and
forefinger too." He calmly pinched the guard's wrist, showing it to him. "Look, there it is."
The square-faced guard was stupefied.
As Xue Xian took another glance at the rash, he suddenly had an idea.
The zuzong’s idea was... highly unusual. He hissed with surprise and fixed his gaze on his own hand,
which still gripped the guard's wrist. "It really is contagious. Look, I have it now."
The square-faced guard followed his gaze down to their hands, where he saw that an angry red rash
was spreading across Xue Xian's hand at an incredible speed, from the tip of his thumb all the way
to the back of his hand. In an instant, the whole of Xue Xian’s hand became red and swollen, a
balloon held up by a skinny white wrist.
The surrounding guards were speechless with shock, and the square-faced guard had stopped
breathing, his face a frozen picture of terror. Xue Xian asked, "What else did you say the rashes
did?"
One of the guards muttered, "Pain... painful and itchy, skin flipping inside out..."
"Oh, right," Xue Xian replied.
Then the guards watched, horrified, as the skin and flesh on Xue Xian’s hand loosened. He twitched
his finger, and a piece of flesh fell away.
The guards: “...”
"How rotten does it get again?" Xue Xian asked.
None of the guards were able to speak.
Seeing that he'd received no response, Xue Xian decided he might as well go big ––
Now, more and more bloody pieces of meat were falling from his hand, and the square-faced guard
screamed. He tried to jerk his wrist away from Xue Xian's tight claw again with all his might. But
the guard should have stayed still, because...
There was a pata noise as the entirety of Xue Xian's hand snapped off of his arm and slapped onto
the floor.
The guards: “…………”
"Look, I have the plague too," Xue Xian said. "My hand's already rotten off. And I'm half-paralysed,
so I can't walk and I've been slowing down my whole group. If you make us go back now, by the time
we can get to the next xian cheng and have a doctor treat me, I would probably have already
sprayed my rot all over this one’s body." Xue Xian’s bone was visible from his broken wrist, and he
used it to point at Xuanmin, almost smearing his blood all over Xuanmin’s face.
“...”
Xuanmin closed his eyes before he had to see more of that wrist.
He feared that if he forced his eyeballs to look at that mess for even a second longer, he would
throw the wearisome niezhang to the ground.
Xue Xian flashed a dazzling smile at the guards. "Shouldn't you let me in now so I can see a doctor?"
he asked sweetly, then put on a faux serious voice. "Answer me. Stop standing there. If you keep
standing there, then you'll start to rot too."
The square-faced guard trembled and moved out of their way.
"Many thanks," Xuanmin said mildly. He began to stride in big steps toward the city, and as he did,
the guards in front of him automatically split themselves into two rows to make room for him. As he
passed, they scurried to press themselves against the city wall, as though if they approached him
even a little, they would end up just like Xue Xian's hand.
The guards watched the group walk away and continued to stand there, stunned. Finally, one of the
guards happened to be glancing down when he suddenly shouted, "Look!"
As the others turned, they saw that the guard was pointing at the spot on the floor where Xue
Xian's hand had fallen. "The hand from just now... the hand disappeared..." the guard said.
Indeed, there was no longer any sign of the hand, and in its place lay a forsaken twig from a white
plum tree.
Shocked, the guards turned on their heels to chase after the group, but found that they, too, had
disappeared without a trace.
They thought of reporting the incident to their superior, but noticed that the square-faced guard
was still standing there. They called out to him, "Li-ge! Li-ge! Get moving! Go find a doctor! And if
the clinic is busy, then go to Fang's Pharmacy to get some medicine. There have been so many
people ordering medicine from Fang that he must know the recipe by heart now! We'll cover your
shift. You hurry, okay?"
"Mn," the square-faced guard finally managed to say. He leant his sword against the city wall and
trudged into the city, headed for the clinic in the west.
On the other side of town, in an alley to the east, Xuanmin and the others were on their way to
Jiang Shining's sister's. Stone Zhang kept turning his head to look back behind them, afraid that the
guards would catch up to them soon.
"Stop tiring your neck. No one's coming," Xue Xian said. He would be able to hear if anyone was
approaching. "Why are you so paranoid?"
How could you say that? the rest of the group thought.
Every time they visited a new city, the zuzong had to do something crazy in public, as though if he
didn't, they would've shown up for nothing.
Jiang Shining had been to Anqing before –– only a few times, but enough to familiarise himself with
the route. Very soon, they arrived before a set of doors.
The doors were very small, and did not seem to be the front doors of the compound, but rather the
back doors that opened into a narrow side alley. This door had two round stone sculptures on either
side of it, and a set of stone steps leading up to it.
"The front doors are to the pharmacy. Because they're so busy, the members of the household
usually use the back door, which leads into the living quarters and the back courtyard," Jiang
Shining explained.
"Bald donkey, put me down." Seeing that Jiang Shining had knocked on the door, Xue Xian had
Xuanmin place him on top of one of the statues.
Xue Xian held up his gangrenous wrist and began to grow his hand back. "Please," he said to
Xuanmin, "could you do a spell to clean my clothes? I got some gore on my sleeve earlier."
“...” Jiang Shining, Stone Zhang, and even Lu Nianqi –– who had been ignoring everything up to that
point –– averted their eyes in disgust.
Xuanmin glanced at Xue Xian's wrist then quickly looked away again –– that was probably the
extreme limit that he could bear, with his aversion to anything unclean. He seemed overwhelmed
by horror at this niezhang’s behavior, and did not move to draw a cleaning talisman for Xue Xian,
probably doubting that even the talisman would be able to clean up all that blood and dead flesh.
Instead, still with that ice-cold expression, Xuanmin raised his finger and drew it across Xue Xian's
sleeve, then gave it a tug.
As though it had been sliced by a knife, that part of the sleeve dropped away.
Then, holding that gore-covered piece of cloth, Xuanmin lit a match and burned it all away.
“...” Xue Xian had never expected that anyone would dare to tear his clothes, nor that the first
person to do so would be the bald donkey. He stared in shock at his forearm, where there was now
only half a sleeve. Then, he looked down again and snatched up the bottom of Xuanmin's robe,
rubbing his new-grown hand furiously against it. Then he held the part of Xuanmin's robe back up at
him and said, "Burn this too. If I have to have bare arms, then you have to have bare legs. That's
the only thing that will appease the rage inside me right now."
Jiang Shining glanced with pity at Xuanmin. He was about to say something when the narrow door
was finally pulled open from the inside and a girl of around ten years old asked, "Who is it?" while
sticking out her head.
A familiar face!
Seeing that he knew the girl, Jiang Shining smiled and saluted her. "Oh, it's Xing––"
Before he could go on, the girl screamed and slammed the door shut again.
Chapter 46: Da-shanren (I)
[a]
Jiang Shining stared in shock at the slammed door for a while, then suddenly realised what had
happened.
In the moment that it occurred to him, his facial expression became complex: there was some
disappointment, but there was a bit more exasperation [b] as well.
Xue Xian glanced at Jiang Shining and noticed his ambivalence, then pointed at Stone Zhang and
said, "Old man, [c] weren't you afraid of ghosts before? Now that you've seen such an idiotic ghost,
are you still afraid? Don't you think all the trembling you did was quite embarrassing?"
Old man...
Stone Zhang touched his face and gloomily thought, I may not be young anymore, but I'm not old
either. I can walk, I can run, I can carry things. Isn't 'old man' a bit much?
But he didn't dare protest, lest he piss off the zuzong.
Jiang Shining had just been feeling a bit better, but this zuzong’s mockery turned his face dark
again. He rolled his eyes and snapped, "Even if I am dumb, it's because I've just been spending too
much time with you." [d]
Then Jiang Shining picked up his robe and stood aside, sweeping an inviting arm toward the door: "I
shouldn’t haunt this place in the middle of the day. One of you should come knock.”
Everyone looked at Stone Zhang.
"Me... me?" Confused, Stone Zhang pointed at himself. He’d spent the whole journey so far being
jostled along with nothing to do, since he was weak and not of much use –– this was the first time
anyone had called on him to do something.
Xue Xian pointed at Lu Nianqi and said, "Fortune-teller."
Then he pointed at himself: "Cripple."
[e]
Then he pointed at Xuanmin: "Alms beggar."
He spread his hands and shrugged. "Which one of us is normal?"
Tragically, there was only one normal person in the whole group.
Stone Zhang had no choice but to shuffle to the door and knock again.
There was another scream –– the girl from before was becoming even more frightened.
Stone Zhang looked back at the group helplessly. "Those who are bitten by a snake spend the next
ten years terrified of ropes," he said. "Not my fault."
Then he injected a casual tone into his voice and said, "Little girl, open the door! I'm not a ghost.
I'm a good person, ah!"
Everyone: “...”
Xue Xian glared at Stone Zhang, then finally reached out and yanked him back. "Stop being so
creepy. If you keep going like this, Zhong Kui [f] is going to come and chase you away."*
"Xingzi, what are you yelling for?" came the voice of an old woman. "Don't frighten the patients out
front."
The little girl's trembling voice rose in response –– she seemed about to cry. "Chen-sao, [g] there's a
ghost!"
"Nonsense, how could there be a ghost?" Chen-sao laughed. "In our compound we only save people.
We've never harmed anyone. Why would a ghost want to haunt us?"
"It's true. I just saw Jiang-shaoye, right there behind the door," Xingzi said.
"Jiang… shaoye?" Chen-sao said, shocked. "You don't mean..."
"Yes!” Xingzi replied. “Just now... just now I heard a knock on the door, and when I opened it, he
was there. He smiled at me and called me by my name! Who else could it be?"
The girl was sobbing now, scared to her wit's end.
"Knocking on the door?" Chen-sao asked.
"Yes, and there was another knock just now. I was too scared to listen..."
At this point, Xue Xian decided to knock again.
Du du du...
Now both the old woman and the young girl screamed and began to cry.
Speechless, Xuanmin pried the dragon's claw away from the door.
Jiang Shining: “...”
Finally, after what felt like hours, the door opened again. The person behind it was a grey-haired,
kindly-looking old man.
Peeking out from behind the old man were two others: one was Xingzi, and the other, a short old
woman, would be Chen-sao.
In order not to scare them again, Jiang Shining had turned back into a small paper man and tucked
himself into Xue Xian's pocket. But he couldn't help but stick his head out again to observe what
was happening –– after all, he'd gotten them into this mess.
Seeing the grey-haired old man, he muttered, "Chen-shu..."
[h]
Jiang Shining knew everyone at Fang's Pharmacy, and could even say he knew some of them quite
well. The Fang and Jiang families had always been very close: one side were doctors, and the other
were pharmacists, so after having coincidentally met once, they'd developed a good relationship.
Ever since he was small, Jiang Shining would often be brought along to call upon the Fang family;
and later, his sister had ended up marrying into the Fangs.
When he’d been young, Chen-shu and Chen-sao had even made him sweet buns.
Now, old friends were reunited, but they were as distant as yin and yang. Even greeting each other
face to face and calling each other by old names was difficult.
Chen-shu's ears weren't as good as they used to be, so he didn't hear Jiang Shining call him.
He squinted his slightly cloudy eyes and took in the ragtag ‘demons, ghosts, and monsters of all
shades’ [i] gathered by the door. He said, "Do you... need anything?"
Behind him, Chen-sao glared at Xingzi. "Didn't you say you saw Jiang-xiao-shaoye? [j] Where? These
people are alive and well," she said in a loud whisper.
Confused, Xingzi shook her head. She didn't know what was going on either.
Again, it was Stone Zhang that the group shoved forward to explain things.
"Thank you for having us," Stone Zhang said. Indeed, he was used to speaking to wealthy patrons,
so, although he was always paralysed by terror when with Xue Xian and the others, he did in fact
know how to be polite in the right situations.
He put his hands together in greeting and added, "We come from Ningyang, Huizhou. We are here
to look for––"
Suddenly, Stone Zhang stopped and frowned back at Xue Xian. "Who are we looking for?"
Before Xue Xian could reply, Chen-sao instinctively said, "Looking for... Shao-furen?"
[k]
"Yes," Jiang Shining said in a low voice.
"Yes!" Stone Zhang repeated, nodding.
"Indeed!" Xingzi said. "I knew it couldn't be a coincidence. I just saw Jiang-shaoye, and now people
from Ningyang have arrived! So did I really see what I saw? And… and... Jiang-shaoye..."
Chen-shu shushed her, then turned back to Stone Zhang and returned the salute. "Sir, if I may ask,
do you have some kind of token?"
Panicked, Stone Zhang looked back at the group again and mouthed, To –– ken?
Xue Xian was about to say they didn't, but suddenly remembered and slapped his knee. "Of course!"
Then, without any sense of hesitation nor shame, he reached into Xuanmin's pouch and began to
dig.
“...” Xuanmin grasped Xue Xian’s wrist. "What are you ––"
"Found it!" Xue Xian wiggled his arm. "Let go."
Xuanmin did so, and Xue Xian triumphantly took out his claw, which clutched that silver medical
bell.
When Jiang Shining hadn't been able to carry it, Xue Xian had tossed it into the pouch for him ––
and now he was taking it back out, as though it was his own pocket.
"Can this medical bell count as a token?" Xue Xian asked, showing Chen-shu the bell.
He was still sitting on the statue by the door, half-hidden by Stone Zhang, so it was only upon
hearing his voice that Chen-shu and the others looked over at him.
Xingzi looked Xue XIan up and down, then suddenly flushed red and shyly hid behind Chen-shu
again.
Chen-shu took the bell into his hands. He only needed to glance at it before he said, "I've seen this.
Jiang-daifu always had one on him."
He flipped the bell over and saw that it had Jiang etched onto the side, then handed it back to Xue
Xian.
But Jiang-daifu had not died of old age –– his family had been victims of arson, and now there was a
complete stranger showing up with a family heirloom. Anyone would be suspicious.
"And you are the Jiang family's..." Chen-shu muttered nervously.
"Close neighbors," Stone Zhang offered. He couldn't say ‘distant family’, so he had to go for the
next best option. "The xiao-gongzi [l] of the Jiang family, Jiang Shining, requested us to bring the
medical bell that has been in his family for generations to his sister. There are also unresolved
things concerning his parents that he needs us to discuss with her."
"So that's why..." Xingzi said. "But shao-furen isn't in at the moment. Would you like to come in for
tea?"
Her attitude was so completely different from her earlier fright that Chen-sao and Chen-shu stared
at her, surprised.
Wasn't she supposed to be even more terrified now?
But Xingzi didn't notice the strange looks. Her gaze still rested on Xue Xian.
"Thank you," Stone Zhang said, without even trying to decline out of politeness. After all, in the
past few days he'd both flown in the air and dived into the water. All he wanted was to sit down for
a while and have some hot tea. He was overjoyed.
Seeing as Xingzi had already invited them, and Stone Zhang had accepted, Chen-shu had to ignore
the doubts he still held and let the group in.
Chen-shu and Chen-sao went ahead to show them the way, and Xingzi silently held the door open ––
Stone Zhang entered first, then Lu Nianqi, who was able to step over the threshold but who did so
slowly and while feeling around the doorframe. Chen-shu noticed this.
"This xiao-shaoye..." Chen-shu asked.
"Half-blind," Lu Nianqi replied coldly.
Chen-shu: “...”
Xingzi waited for Lu Nianqi to enter, then stepped out, planning to guide Xue Xian, who continued
to sit on the stone statue.
But she raised her head and watched as Xuanmin picked Xue Xian up in his arms.
Xingzi: “...”
Chen-shu saw this surreal scene, too, and couldn't help but ask, "And this gongzi..."
"Half-paralysed," Xue Xian replied, equally coldly.
Chen-shu: “...” What kind of people are these...
One half-blind person, one half-paralysed person, one short and fat middle-aged man, one aloof
monk...
Although, to be fair, none of them seemed capable of any violence.
So Chen-shu put his suspicions away and decided to greet the group with genuine kindness.
"What time will your shao-furen be back?" Xue Xian asked Xingzi. He had seen the little girl blush,
and found her funny, so had decided to casually ask her a question.
When the niezhang wasn't actively looking to make trouble, he actually knew how to use his
charisma on people and speak with politeness. Yet his tone retained that sense of laziness, which
made him appear absent-minded and nonchalant.
Struck that Xue Xian had spoken to her, Xingzi blushed even redder. Warmly, she said, "Shao-furen
went to feel Zhao-laoye's wife's pulse, and shaoye went along. They left before the wu geng, and
will probably be back in a shichen or so."
"Feel her pulse?"
"Our shao-furen is extremely skilled!" Xingzi said. "All the wives in the county who don't feel well
ask shao-furen to check on them. Her pulse study is always accurate, and the medication she
recommends always successfully treats the illness. But it's hard work..."
Jiang Shining's sister really is worthy of her upbringing in a medical family, the group thought. But
they also began to feel worried –– the plague seemed to be wreaking havoc across Qingping County,
and it was too easy for doctors to become infected...
The group settled into a back courtyard and sipped tea. They had expected to wait a very long
time, but before they'd even finished their first cups, a boy around the age of ten burst in,
panicked, and shouted, "Help! Help! Help! Something's happened to shaoye and shao-furen!"
Chapter 47: Da-shanren (II)
Chen-shu and Chen-sao, who had been emerging from indoors with tea trays, jumped with shock.
The tea trays clattered onto the ground, sending shattered ceramic pieces flying, some of the
broken pieces even hitting Stone Zhang and Xuanmin's legs –- but the couple was too distracted
even to apologise.
"Something's happened?" A chorus of voices rose –– Chen-shu, Chen-sao, Xingzi... and the hidden
Jiang Shining.
But with all the commotion, no one noticed him.
"What's happened?" Chen-sao gripped the messenger by his sleeve. "Speak, child! Why are you the
only one that's returned?"
"Shaoye..." the boy wheezed. He seemed to have run all the way here having barely stopped to
breathe, so now he spoke in a spluttered, broken manner. He finally took some deep breaths and
slowed down. "We were on our way back and turned down Jiqing Street. Suddenly, seven or eight
beggars appeared and took shaoye and shao-furen away. The whole thing happened so quickly, it
was as though they were waiting there for us!"
"What?" everyone exclaimed. "Taken away? Where to?"
"I... I don't know––" the boy seemed about to cry, and spoke with a voice full of shame and guilt.
"Shaoye and shao-furen pushed me aside, and I fell to the ground. When I got up, they'd
disappeared without a trace. I couldn't go after them. I couldn't even find them. I'm so useless..."
He began to sob.
"Did you at least see the direction in which they went?" Xuanmin suddenly asked.
The boy seemed not to have noticed that there were strangers in the courtyard. He faltered, then
said between sniffs, "South. But there are too many streets that way, and I immediately lost track
of them."
"Find an object that your shaoye and shao-furen have touched recently," Xuanmin said again, as his
gaze fell upon Lu Nianqi.
"Oh right, we have a human compass," Xue Xian said, petting Lu Nianqi's head maternally.
Expressionless, Lu Nianqi pushed his hand away.
Chen-shu and Chen-sao didn't understand. "Something they've touched recently?" they asked.
But Xingzi clapped and shouted, "A handkerchief! Does that work?"
"Sure," Xue Xian said. "Could you please bring that handkerchief over?"
Still red-faced, Xingzi scurried into a nearby room, then ran out again. "Here –– the handkerchief.
But what do you need it for?"
"We’re going to find out where your shaoye and shao-furen went."
Still utterly lost, Chen-shu and Chen-sao paced around restlessly, like ants on a hot stove.
Lu Nianqi took out his bundle of sticks and, lightly holding the embroidered handkerchief, began to
make marks on the floor.
He looked like some kind of shaman.
concern. "This is..." they muttered.
[a]
Chen-shu, Chen-sao, and even Xingzi looked on with
Then, in a highly serious manner, Lu Nianqi put away his sticks and felt the markings they'd
created. Putting on his best ‘master oracle’ [b] voice, he said, "Is there such a mountain path
nearby? There are hills built from stacked broken stones on both sides, and on the hills is a forest.
In the forest..."
He touched the markings again, and continued, "Inside the forest is a grave, and by the grave is a
small pond, and by the pond is a black rock, which looks like a crawling turtle..."
When Lu Nianqi had begun his description, Chen-shu and Chen-sao's faces had still been furrowed in
confusion, but when he got to the turtle-shaped rock, they suddenly lit up: "There really is!"
"Where?"
"Xiaonanshan!"
Before long, [c] a horse-drawn carriage suddenly appeared at the foot of a hill in Qingping County
known as Xiaonanshan. Xue Xian and the others sat inside the carriage, while Chen-shu drove it.
At first, Xue Xian had only wanted to bring one ordinary person with them who could both drive the
carriage and who knew the way –– it was convenient and efficient, and Chen-shu had a mild
personality and seemed able to tolerate a great deal of strange happenings.
And yet...
The group were now looking at Chen-sao and Xingzi, who sat in the carriage with them.
"So the reason why the two of you came along is..." Xue Xian finally asked.
Indeed, they'd even left Stone Zhang back at the Fang compound.
Chen-sao had an excitable nature. She slapped her thigh and shouted, "Last year, when laofuren [d] passed away, she'd asked me and Lao-Chen to take care of shaoye and shao-furen. Now, it's
only been a year and I've already lost them. How am I supposed to explain this to her? Oh, lao-furen
ah––"
Seeing that she might begin to wail, Xue Xian shot out a finger and waved it in front of Chen-sao.
"Shh... okay, okay, I understand."
Chen-sao's eyes bulged out as she suddenly felt her mouth be sealed shut by some invisible force ––
she was unable to make any more noise.
"So, little girl, how about you––" Xue Xian asked. There were no seats with armrests inside the
carriage, so he leant back against the carriage wall as though he owned it. [e] As he spoke, finding
nowhere to put his arms, he went ahead and used Xuanmin's legs as his armrests. Of course he did:
it was only to be expected.
In the corner of his eye, Xue Xian saw Xuanmin glare at the arm on his knee. Xuanmin raised his
hand, as though about to pry these tyrannical claws away.
Xue Xian turned, ready to protest and annoy the bald donkey further –– but Xuanmin's gaze quickly
passed by his arm, as though Xuanmin had seen something or remembered something. Then,
Xuanmin put his hand back down and let Xue Xian do what he wanted.
Mn?
Xue Xian was taken aback, but before he could process it, Xingzi, sitting across from him, blurted
out, "I've been with shao-furen for over five years. If something happens to her, how can I go on? I'm
so stressed that I can't just sit around at home. Please don't make me get off the carriage. I
promise not to get in the way."
"You won't get in the way, and I don't mind there being more people. It's just that..." Now Xue Xian
slowed down his speech and said casually, "You need to be prepared."
Chen-sao and Xingzi stared at him quizzically, unsure what he meant.
Before they could say anything, Lu Nianqi suddenly piped up. "Alright, the location's pretty much
fixed. They're not moving anymore. They've stopped somewhere. It is... an abandoned village? Why
are all the houses broken down?"
"Abandoned village? Do you mean Wen Village? My heavens –– how could they end up there? No one
lives there anymore... and not only that, but it's haunted! If they go, they'll die!"
"A ghost village?"
"Lao-Chen! Lao-Chen! It's a matter of life and death! Go faster––!" Chen-sao yelled, knocking at the
carriage wall.
The reason why the carriage was thrumming along this path on Xiaonanshan was precisely because –
– as a beginner soothsayer –– Lu Nianqi's sticks only worked some of the time. Besides, those they
were tracking were constantly on the move. If they wanted to be able to confirm Jiang Shining's
sister's final location, they needed to get as close as possible; so they had been following distantly
in the carriage.
Now that those they were tracking had really stopped, Xue Xian's group naturally didn't want to
wait around anymore. They got ready to charge.
"Hold on tight," Xue Xian said to Chen-sao and Xingzi.
Just as Chen-sao turned back from knocking on the wall, the entire carriage began to shake back
and forth,
"Aiyou!" Chen-sao cried, thinking the horses had gone over a bumpy stretch of road. She shot out
her hand to stabilise herself against the wall.
But then, out of nowhere, came a savage wind that began to rattle the carriage from the outside.
Terrified, the horses at the front began to whinny.
"What is going on what is going on––" Chen-sao's hand scrabbled against the wall as she choked back
tears. Xingzi held on tightly to her hand and screamed too.
"Little girl, [f] please be quieter." Xue Xian lifted his hand, and the carriage doors slammed tightly
shut. "The doors are shut. You can't fall out."
Chen-sao and Xingzi stared at him incredulously, as though they'd seen a ghost––
"Did you touch the door just now..." Xingzi asked. "How come the door––"
She was still in a shocked daze when the carriage tipped over diagonally. Xingzi’s own heart
skipped a beat.
This sudden light feeling... it was as though someone –– or something –– had picked up the carriage
in its entirety.
Trembling, the two women pulled open the curtain on the window...
"Ahhh!" they both screamed.
"We're... we're... we're flying!"
“...” Xue Xian scratched inside his ear. He had begun to regret what he'd done.
He poked Xuanmin in the waist and said, "Bald donkey, could you bring in the one at the front––"
"Ahhh!"
Before Xue Xian could even finish his sentence, a scream rose from the front of the carriage too.
Xue Xian: “...” What happened to 'mild personality'?
Xuanmin swept his snow-white sleeve out of the window and, with a peng, Lao-Chen's head came
hurtling in through the window, his mouth screaming all along.
As he'd been panicking outside with his eyes tightly shut, Xuanmin had gone ahead and dragged him
inside.
The screaming only stopped when Chen-shu was sitting inside the carriage.
Now that everyone was safely inside, Xue Xian reached a hand out of the window and did a wave.
Xingzi looked on, confused...
The carriage lurched to the side again –– this time, Chen-sao hadn't managed to get a grip, so she
fell with gravity and tumbled into Xingzi, who, in turn, fell onto Lu Nianqi.
The poor Lu Nianqi, still clutching his sticks, was slammed into the carriage wall.
Carried by the savage wind that Xue Xian had summoned, the carriage flew up into the skies,
headed straight for the clouds.
But as soon as it penetrated the clouds, it immediately fell down toward the earth again.
As the carriage lurched again, Chen-sao and Xingzi tumbled along too, knocking into Lu Nianqi a
second time.
Lu Nianqi: “...”
Chen-sao and Xingzi took another breath. In the time it took for them to inhale and exhale, the
carriage had already landed again.
"We're here," Xue Xian said. He hooked his finger and the doors of the carriage burst open,
revealing the scene outside ––
Just as Chen-sao had described, they were indeed in an abandoned village. The homes had long
collapsed, allowing the forest's trees and weeds to take over. There was no sign of life at all.
Although the sky was brightening –– a patch of white light creeping in from the east during this
freshest part of the morning –– the village seemed to repel visitors rather than invite them.
"Caw –– caw––" A crow flew out from somewhere in the thicket, frightening the Fang family
servants, who began to tremble and tried to shrink further into the carriage.
In the oppressive silence, of course any noise was going to seem so much louder. Just as Xuanmin
took a step out of the carriage door, a woman's piercing scream rose out in the distance.
"Shao-furen!" Xingzi shouted. "That's shao-furen's voice! She really is in there!"
Xuanmin turned to Xue Xian and said, "Wait here."
He planned to follow the voice into the abandoned village.
There was nothing to worry about when it came to Xuanmin, so Xue Xian leant back further into the
carriage lethargically and crossed his arms. He nodded and said, "Okay, that'll save me some effort.
Be back soon."
Frowning, Xuanmin surveyed the feng shui design of the abandoned village. There really was a
problem with the village: it was a shell, with a strong exterior but a totally hollow heart, and it
lacked something critical. Although the village was situated in an excellent position, it was
essentially a wasteland.
As to what it was the village lacked...
Pondering this, Xuanmin began to stride forward in those sweeping steps. His hand absent-mindedly
shot to the copper coin pendant by his hip, but there was nothing there.
Xuanmin: “...”
Xue Xian, who had shuffled forward to the carriage door and had been watching Xuanmin walked
away suddenly squinted––
Xuanmin was coming back again.
Xue Xian lifted his face and watched as Xuanmin came to the door and lightly knocked against the
carriage wall with his knuckle. Next, he stretched out that slender, beautiful hand in front of Xue
Xian.
"What are you doing?" Xue Xian asked, confused.
Xuanmin said, "Copper coins."
Inside the carriage, Xingzi looked at Xuanmin's face and thought, How handsome...
Then she looked at Xue Xian, and found him handsome too.
And yet...
Most of Xingzi's thoughts were something like, If dashi wants money, why is he asking for it from
Xue-gongzi?? She was completely mystified.
Before she could figure it out, Xuanmin, with his pendant in hand, was walking back into the
abandoned village again.
As he walked, the copper coins lightly struck against each other, making faint ringing noises that
were brought back to them by gusts of the village's strange wind.
Xue Xian absent-mindedly drummed his fingers against his knee to the rhythm of the coins' echoes,
waiting for Xuanmin to return.
But, after some time had passed, his fingers froze as he realised ––
Hold on. It had been so long, and Xuanmin's silhouette had completely disappeared into the village.
How could the sound of the coins still ring so close?
But at that moment, that clear, rhythmic echo suddenly stopped. A low thrumming noise seemed to
rise from beneath the earth –– it was so familiar...
As that weng–– noise appeared, Xue Xian felt his mind be wiped clean. A scene that he had long
since forgotten surged forth into his thoughts.
Chapter 48: Da-shanren (III)
It was the first month of summer, in Huameng County: the day that he was maimed and his
muscles and bones were extracted from his body. Countless golden threads appeared out of
nowhere and fell upon him from above, some wrapping themselves around his body and tying him
down to the ground, others worming their way between his scales and tightening their grip,
trapping him in a giant cage.
The golden threads were as thin as hair, so that even when they did pierce his skin, he would not
immediately begin to bleed, as the wounds were too small. But no blood did not mean no pain ––
those golden threads sent scorching agony all across his body, the outside ones scorching his scales
and skin, the ones that had dug into him scorching his flesh and sending pain into the very core of
his body. Every little movement sent more pain rippling across him; it was as painful as being
devoured by millions of ants.
But Xue Xian was Xue Xian. If he wanted to move, then move he would, even if ten thousand
arrows had him pinned to the ground –– he would simply pluck the arrows out one by one no
matter the pain, and then tear the head off of whoever had done that to him.
Indeed, physical pain had never been enough to stop him.
The reason why he hadn’t forced his way out of the cage that day was because it happened to be
his calamity period, [a] which only occurred once every century.
There were great calamities and small calamities, but they were mostly thunderstorm calamities.
To Xue Xian, tempests were the least fear-inspiring calamities. When was a dragon emerging from
the sea not accompanied by some rain and thunder? He had long gotten used to thunder, especially
the noise, and no matter how violent a bolt of lightning was, he could simply sit there and watch,
his eyes unblinking.
Ordinary lightning could not even hit Xue Xian, especially as, usually, he was the one summoning it
–– and even if he was struck, it did not hurt nor even itch. But lightning during a calamity period
was different: not only was it able to strike him, it in fact aimed itself directly at him, sending bolt
after bolt onto his body until he began to bleed. His skin peeling away was the least of his worries
in such times –– there were far worse things. If he incurred permanent harm to his soul, the
consequences were worse than death. Without intense meditation, [b] his soul could be entirely
shattered by the thunder, and his empty body would melt into dust and mud.
In order to save your own life during a calamity, you might come up with all sorts of ideas to
protect yourself –– like the tale of the Eight Immortals crossing the sea, each person might come up
with a different idea. But Xue Xian could do no such thing: each and every move of his affected the
rivers, lakes, and seas upon which humanity depended. If he tussled, it would turn all nearby
bodies of water into churning, dangerous vortexes. Even in normal times he would sometimes
accidentally cause a flood somewhere, so during a critical moment such as this, Xue Xian had to be
extremely careful not to send out a great wave and flatten whole cities.
In addition, whenever Xue Xian was experiencing a calamity, he would always make sure to
transform back into his dragon form. His colossal dragon body was large enough to bear the
agonising lightning strikes to the flesh. Whereas if he stayed human, only a few strikes of lightning
were enough to peel all of his flesh away –– and then what would he look like?
When calamities were small, Xue Xian could not be bothered to move around too much –– he would
find a random deserted island and drape himself across it to let the thunder pummel him. When it
was over, he would simply go to sleep right there and let his wounds heal. Then, once he was no
longer bleeding from every pore, he would slither into the bottom of the sea and mend his
soul [c] before going back out again to make trouble.
But when calamities were great, Xue Xian could not be so slapdash. Indeed, most land could not
bear the brunt of great calamities’ colossal thunderstorms –– if such lightning fell upon a desert
island, only a few bolts would be enough to break the entire island into pieces and send it sinking
into the water. If there happened to be people there, then it would become a real disaster.
In order to avoid the thunder of great calamities striking the earth because of him, during these
periods, Xue Xian would fly into the sky and burrow into the thick black storm clouds. Shafts of
lightning would come down from the heavens and make their way into the clouds to strike him ––
and only him. For humans below, the noise was frightening, but there was no real danger at all.
This year, in the first month of summer, Xue Xian encountered a great calamity.
And that calamity seemed even greater than previous great calamities, so that, after Xue Xian had
borne the strikes of thunder, he found that his soul had been seriously harmed. He was unable to
stay in the skies, and he swiftly fell from the clouds onto the beach below.
When one's soul was harmed, one would become semi-conscious and disoriented, as though living
an endless dream from which one could not wake up. Because of this, when those countless gold
threads had appeared to tie him tightly to the ground, Xue Xian had barely been able to open his
eyes, let alone see who his enemy was or try to break his fetters. Even for a long time after that,
he had not been able to summon the memory at all –– only bits and pieces, like the fragments of a
dream.
But now, at the abandoned village, Xue Xian felt something ripple through his mind. Perhaps it was
a coincidence, or perhaps something else, but a frame from that memory suddenly flashed into his
thoughts, and Xue Xian was seized with paralysing terror. Now he could see that beyond those
dense whirls of golden threads had been the silhouette of a person. The person may have been
dressed in white robes, but because there were too many obstacles, it was hard to see details, only
a contour.
Just by the contour, Xue Xian could now see that the person was thin and tall, and, amid the
billowing of their robes in the wind, he could also see wispy flying shadows against the person's face
–– long hair that had come loose from its ties.
And yet...
There was something indescribably strange.
The weng–– noise began to die down in his mind, and Xue Xian finally freed himself from the
memory.
"What's wrong? Hey, w-wake up––"
As Xue Xian regained his five senses, he began to hear a female voice shouting in his ear with worry
and panic.
"Xingzi-guniang, [d] please stop shaking me, if you keep going, my head is going to roll off..." Xue
Xian muttered, his eyes still closed.
"You're awake?!" Xingzi exclaimed in delight. Only now did she notice that, in her excitement, she’d
previously placed a hand directly on Xue Xian’s shoulder. She yanked her hand back as though she'd
touched fire, then awkwardly shuffled to the side and explained, "Just now you suddenly lost
consciousness. You'd even stopped breathing. We were all terrified, and I just... I..."
Frowning, Xue Xian finally lazily opened his eyes. Squinting, he touched his philtrum above his
upper lip and said, "So you decided to pinch me?"
Xingzi leant against the carriage wall and sighed with resignation. When she spoke, there was a
sense of heavy guilt in her tone, as though not even jumping into the Yellow River would wash away
her sins. "Yes, I pinched you on the lip."
"Thank you very much. I'm grateful," Xue Xian said with a smile. Then, his face fell, and he looked
out into the village again.
"Ah?" Not expecting a word of thanks, Xingzi blushed again. She wrung her hands and spluttered,
"No worries, no worries, I'm just glad you're awake now."
Of course, Xue Xian didn't hear her at all. He was gazing intently towards the abandoned village,
wondering why Xuanmin hadn't returned yet.
"That bald donkey..." He stopped, realising that it might not be appropriate to call Xuanmin that in
front of others. He cleared his throat then injected some more seriousness in his voice. "How long
was I out just now? Has anything happened since that monk entered the village?"
"Something happening?" Xingzi shook her head, worried. "It's been some time,
anything. Should... should we go inside and look for him?"
[e]
and I haven't heard
Perhaps it was because the carriage taking flight earlier had squashed the three mortals' spirits, but
when it came to the group's plans, the three happily deferred to Xue Xian. Even if they did feel
apprehensive about something, they did not dare speak up. But it had been a while, [e] and who
knew what kind of danger lay inside the village?
Hearing Xingzi's suggestion, Xue Xian frowned. Then he reached out and patted his waist.
"Bookworm, why are you so quiet?"
Now that these mortals had been in the sky, how could they possibly be afraid of ghosts? Xue Xian
had no problem bringing Jiang Shining out anymore.
But it was indeed strange... his own sister and brother-in-law had been kidnapped and brought into
a haunted forest, and Jiang Shining hadn't even stuck his head out of Xue Xian's pocket. That wasn't
like him at all.
"Bookworm?"
“...”
"Jiang Shining?"
“...”
As Xue Xian uttered that name, Chen-shu, Chen-sao, and Xingzi all suddenly turned to stare at him.
"Jiang-xiao-shaoye... did you call Jiang-xiao-shaoye just now?" Chen-sao stammered.
"Mn," Xue Xian said as he looked into his pocket, confused.
Great. It was empty.
Jiang Shining had long disappeared.
With a blank face, Xue Xian looked back onto the village again –– Jiang Shining had probably been
unable to contain himself and gone off with Xuanmin.
The sun was quite high in the sky now, and the fresh morning was laden with dew and cold
humidity. A thick patch of white fog settled into the village, so that only the outlines of some
broken buildings could be seen, dark and shadowy in the distance.
"Where's Lu Nianqi?" Xue Xian asked, still staring out.
From inside the carriage, Lu Nianqi said, "I'm here. What is it?"
His tone was one of deep irritation. He was squeezed between two huge quails –– Chen-shu
trembling on the left, and Chen-sao quivering on the right. The couple seemed to consider Lu
Nianqi some kind of mystic, [f] and, too afraid to approach Xue Xian, had clustered around Lu Nianqi
for safety.
"Could you try and find out what the bald... what Xuanmin is doing now?" Xue Xian said, gazing into
the fog.
"I can try," Lu Nianqi said. "But I need something that the monk has touched."
Before Xue Xian could reply, Lu Nianqi added, "The carriage is too big. It won't work."
“...” Xue Xian fell into a thoughtful silence, then turned and shoved his claw into Lu Nianqi's face.
"How about my hand?"
Lu Nianqi: “...”
Xingzi: “...”
Something about that seemed weird... or maybe all of it was weird.
"I can't use living beings, only lifeless things." Lu Nianqi had never been afraid of Xue Xian, nor did
he fear being beaten up, so he shrugged and casually said, "Why don't you martyr yourself right
now, and I can try."
Xue Xian laughed coldly and turned away.
Meanwhile, from a compound inside that long-abandoned Wen Village, came the sound of a
quarrel.
The compound was composed of two two-story buildings connected by a corridor, around which
were the four walls of a courtyard. Inside the courtyard had once been some gardens, which had
now become a wide patch of weeds half as tall as a man, plus a wizened, almost dead tree. The
windows of each room were rotten, the paper window panes long tattered, letting a mighty draft
into the living quarters, the sound of which resembled a melancholy, mourning wail.
The quarrelling came from the eastern room on the ground floor of the front building –– the only
room without a draft.
"Didn't you say nothing would go wrong if we listened to you? Now we can't get out at all!" a hoarse
male voice complained.
"What else can we do? If we keep going ahead, will Liu-bo, Jianzi, [g] and Xiao-Shitou [h] survive?"
another voice retorted. "At least there's a roof here to shelter us from the rain. Why didn't you
whine when you were picking mushrooms in the morning?"
Several beggars were gathered in the eastern room, all with dishevelled hair and dirty faces. Their
clothes appeared never to have been washed before, and emitted a sour, rotten smell. But that
wasn't the only smell in the room –– mixed in with the mildew was the piercing, heavy stench of
fresh blood.
The hoarse-voiced man had no hands –– his wrists tapered off into two smooth stumps. It seemed
that he had lost his hands many years, or even many decades, ago.
In front of the no-handed man was a bonfire, on top of which was a broken pot, gurgling with some
kind of liquid. The no-handed man used his stumps to pick up some wild leaves from a pile on the
side and tossed them into a pot, muttering, "So what if we have food? We don't even know if we'll
still be alive after eating it..."
"We definitely won't be alive if we don't eat it, so hurry up and cook!" another beggar, the same
who’d been speaking before, replied. That beggar's face was covered in ugly scars, and he only had
one eyeball –– the other eyelid was sealed tightly shut, with no sign of protrusion, implying that the
eye socket was empty.
A group of beggars sat around the arguing men. Those that weren't missing arms or legs were
gesticulating wildly, and were clearly either mute or deaf.
Behind them was a wooden bed, on which were lying three people: one old and two young,
seemingly the ‘Uncle Liu, Jianzi, and Xiao-Shitou’ that the one-eyed man had referenced. A blanket
full of holes had been draped across them, moldy and damp, but at least it was some kind of cover.
The three people on the bed breathed laboriously, as though feverish, and their grey faces burned
with an angry redness. They had blisters on their lips, some of which had burst, and across their
necks were splotches of wounded, gangrenous skin.
That heavy smell of fresh blood came from them.
And in the corner of that room sat one man and one woman, both young and healthy-looking, who
seemed familiar with one another. Although they wore humble, basic coats, these were neither
ragged nor rotten; and although their hair was a bit messy, they looked utterly out of place among
the beggars.
The woman was Jiang Shining's sister, Jiang Shijing, and the man was his brother-in-law, Fang
Cheng.
Fang Cheng leaned over to his wife and muttered, "A-Ying... Are you hurt?"
Having known each other since childhood, Fang Cheng had always called his wife by her nickname.
Jiang Shijing shook her head. "You?"
"I'm fine. Don't worry, I don't think they intend to kill us, nor hold us for ransom," Fang Cheng said
in a low voice. "It actually seems like..."
They both looked over at the wooden bed, where the three sick people were sleeping.
After the beggars had brought them to Wen Village, they had untied all of the couple's rope
bindings except for those on their wrists, and had barked, "We had no choice."
Just as the beggars had been about to explain the matter further, a... highly unusual noise had
appeared in the room.
It had sounded like someone slowly walking down the stairs with heavy, trudging steps –– perhaps
someone physically unwell, or an old person.
The beggars had all frozen in place and looked over at each other. One of them had even lifted a
finger to count the number of people in the room: "Five, six, seven... and with Uncle Liu and the
other two, that makes ten. We're all here."
As he’d said this, the beggars' faces had all contorted with fear –– if everyone was in the room, then
who was coming down the stairs?!
One of the braver beggars had scoffed and muttered, "You guys are scaring yourselves." He'd gone
out of the room to see who it was, but then had disappeared without a trace. Even when the sound
of footsteps had ceased, he had not returned.
Then, two other beggars had paired up to go look for him. They claimed to have gone up and down
the building multiple times without seeing a sign of their vanished friend –– but that the village had
suddenly become covered in thick fog, so that they could no longer see into the other rooms nor
even feel their walls.
This bizarre development had made all the beggars remember the tales of Wen Village being
haunted. Terrified, they'd knitted themselves into a tight circle around the bonfire, too afraid to
leave the room again.
Now the one-eyed man said to Fang Cheng and Jiang Shijing, "Daifus, would you like to drink some
wild leaf and mushroom soup? You won’t be able to get home for a while, so please have some soup
and warm up. Consider it a token of apology from us. If you could find it in your heart to forgive us
humble beggars, we would like you to check the pulses of Uncle Liu and the others. They have
rashes all over their bodies. If they keep going like this, they're all going to die. We had no choice
but to come up with this devious plan."
"Although we barely lead a livable life, we also don't wish to die," added the no-handed man. "But
we had no money to pay a doctor, nor could we afford medicine, so we had to commit a crime..."
It was just as the couple had guessed.
Fang Cheng shook his head. "We've had many disasters in the past two years. With famine spreading
across the county, life has gotten harder for us all. If you can't pay, then don't –– would we turn a
dying person away at the door? And even if I was a miser who refused to give you any medicine, my
furen here would never allow it. It's just that..."
He looked pointedly at the one-eyed man and continued, "How could you go so far as to blindfold
someone on the street and kidnap them? If you can do this, then what else are you capable of?"
"We also wish to make a normal living, but no one is willing to take us on," the no-handed man said,
lifting his wrists helplessly. "For people like us, even if we did get jobs, we would be unable to
perform them as well as able-bodied people. All we are is a charity case. But in these difficult
years, people can barely make ends meet for themselves, so why would they do charity?"
"No one wants you?" Fang Cheng replied unhappily. "Did you ask us whether we wanted to be
kidnapped? If you had just said, 'We cannot pay, can we work off the bill,' do you think we would've
denied you?"
The no-handed man opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly that slow trudging noise outside
appeared again.
Everyone in the room froze in terror.
"Gouzi, [i] you guys are closest to the door, hurry up and shut it!" the one-eyed man whispered.
A youth with a missing arm bounded up and scurried to close the door, then quickly rushed back to
the bonfire, where he sat and anxiously observed the door for movement.
"I heard... and I only heard––" A beggar with a missing leg sitting beside Gouzi said, shuffling closer
using his hands. He lowered his voice and continued, "Ghosts haunt Wen Village every year, always
around the end of the winter months. The sound of theatre performances will suddenly appear in
the village, and you can hear the sound of drums and music from afar, and the high-pitched sounds
of singing... Aiyou, it's terrifying!"
"Yes, yes! And, they say that if you accidentally stumble into the village, a white fog will cloud your
vision and prevent you from escaping."
"You can even hear coughing, clapping, and laughing..."
As the beggars spoke among each other, they became more and more afraid. They clustered even
closer together, trembling, but suddenly the one-eyed man gestured at them to be quiet, and they
all fell silent again.
The slow steps seemed to come out of a room upstairs and began to walk down the stairs. The steps
lingered in the sitting room, as though the person had sat down on a chair to rest. Then, the person
seemed to stand up once more and begin walking around the room.
Bit by bit, the steps approached the eastern room and became ever clearer, finally stopping right in
front of their door.
As they stared at the door, everyone in the room thought their heads were going to explode from
sheer dread. That door was old and fragile, so although it had been locked, it would likely collapse
under the slightest amount of pressure, and was thus completely useless.
Just as the blood had drained from the beggars' faces, the sound of coughing emerged from behind
the door. The coughing noise betrayed a sense of weakness, as though it came from someone who
was extremely ill, and was followed by a sound of wheezing. Then it trudged away, toward the door
across the hall.
Hu...
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
But then the door to the room across the hall creaked shut again and the steps edged closer to the
eastern room once more.
While the beggars were sweating with fear, the group waiting inside the carriage outside Wen
Village all let go of breaths they'd been holding –– they saw a silhouette finally emerge from that
thick fog. The monk's white robes appeared to be stitched from the fog surrounding him, and
billowed lightly in the breeze.
"Dashi! Dashi is back!" Xingzi shouted.
Chen-shu and Chen-sao finally let go of their iron grips on Lu Nianqi's arms and crawled to the
carriage doorway to look out. "And shaoye and shao-furen? Are they back too?"
They squinted hard at Xuanmin's silhouette, but their hopes were dashed when they realised there
was no other person walking alongside him.
But when Xue Xian saw that Xuanmin was alone, he frowned.
Xuanmin quickly materialised from the fog and walked over to the carriage.
"Dashi, did you not find shaoye and shao-furen?" Chen-sao asked anxiously.
Xuanmin said, "I have found their location, but cannot approach."
"Cannot approach?"
"Mn," Xuanmin said. "However––"
Before he could finish, Chen-sao and Chen-shu collapsed back into the carriage, their eyes red and
brimming with tears.
But Xue Xian silently looked Xuanmin up and down and asked, out of nowhere, "When did you shave
your head and become a monk?"
Confused by his question, Xuanmin turned to Xue Xian. "When I was a child. Why?"
"Are you sure?" Xue Xian's tone remained neutral, betraying no emotion. "Didn't you forget your
past?"
Why would Xue Xian suddenly ask such a thing?
It was just that…Just then, when Xuanmin had emerged from the white fog, his silhouette had
looked so much like that of the person with the golden threads... Both wore light white robes, both
were slender and tall, and both were unusually powerful...
The only difference was that the person with the golden threads on the beach that day had a head
full of hair.
Chapter 49: Da-shanren (IV)
Although Xuanmin did not understand why Xue Xian was suddenly interrogating him, he still gave a
response. "I retain some fragmented memories of the past," he said. "Some of them are from
childhood."
Perhaps it was how overly serious Xue Xian was acting, but something about his questions felt
amiss. After Xuanmin replied, he looked down, his black, peaceful gaze locking with Xue Xian's.
Xuanmin added, "I am certain."
Ever since their conversation at the inn, Xue Xian felt that he understood Xuanmin's personality a
bit more, or at least he felt more sure about him ––
Even if you ignored everything else about the bald donkey, there was one positive aspect to him,
which was that he never lied. If he did not remember something, he would never perfunctorily
make something up to placate Xue Xian, but would plainly say that he had forgotten. And if
Xuanmin could remember, but did not want to talk about it, he would also plainly say that he did
not wish to inform Xue Xian, instead of forcing himself to accommodate his interrogator.
So if Xuanmin calmly said, "I am certain," then he really was certain –– it meant that he really did
have some bits and pieces of childhood memories, and that in those scenes, he had already become
a monk.
Hearing Xuanmin's response, Xue Xian neither nodded nor shook his head. For some time, he said
nothing at all, only gazing intently at Xuanmin.
Sensing Xue Xian’s mood, Xuanmin calmly asked, "You don't believe me?"
"It's not that," Xue Xian said. Suddenly, he reached out his hand and hooked his finger, gesturing for
Xuanmin to come closer. "Come here."
"Mn?" Xuanmin still did not understand, but bent down anyway. He assumed Xue Xian had something
to tell him that he didn't want Chen-shu and the others to hear, so he waited patiently for Xue Xian
to speak.
But no words came –– only the niezhang’s claw.
Squinting, Xue Xian suddenly touched Xuanmin's head and clicked his tongue. "Poor baby, you were
so young when you shaved your head!"
Xuanmin: “...”
There was a saying about children who were particularly adept at making trouble for their parents:
if you don't beat the child for three days, it'll get so bored that it'll climb up your house and start
taking the roof apart. This niezhang is staging a mutiny, Xuanmin thought.
The others in the carriage observed the scene, dismayed –– especially Xingzi, who had even stopped
crying and instead began to think, The relationship between these two is... maybe too good?
Unblinking, she directed her big eyes at Xue Xian, but accidentally exchanged a glance with
Xuanmin.
That dashi really was quite attractive, she noted. Especially those serene, resolute eyes, which
always gave one a reassuring feeling, as if to say that if Xuanmin wasn't stressed, then no one else
needed to be stressed, either –– he could always come up with an idea to save the day.
But, for some reason, when Xingzi met with those eyes, she felt an inexplicable sense of guilt.
Before Xingzi could break eye contact, Xuanmin was already looking away.
His face set with exasperation, he grabbed Xue Xian's skinny wrist and pried the mischievous claw
away from his head. Probably to stop Xue Xian from immediately putting his hand back and maybe
even trying to touch Xuanmin’s face this time, Xuanmin refused to let go.
Xue Xian scoffed. "How precious is that head of yours? Why can't I touch it?"
Xuanmin ignored him.
Actually, Xuanmin's grip was not that tight: a quick tug would be enough to get out of it. But Xue
Xian did not struggle –– he rested his wrist there, letting Xuanmin hold it.
The coolness in Xuanmin's fingers seeped into Xue Xian's skin, so that his wrist soon became the
same cool temperature.
Xue Xian's gaze idly fell onto Xuanmin's hand, and he compared the monk to that person with the
golden threads once more –– indeed, they were alike in every way, except for that shadow of hair.
But Xuanmin had already shorn his head and become a monk as a child, and Xue Xian had only been
maimed six months ago. That meant Xuanmin couldn't possibly have done the deed.
To Xue Xian, as long as Xuanmin wasn't that person, then everything was alright.
Otherwise...
Xue Xian abruptly stopped his train of thought in its tracks before he could think of ‘otherwise’. He
changed the subject and asked Xuanmin, "Just now, you said that you found their position, but
could not approach? Then you said 'However' –– however what? Can't you see that you've made them
all cry with that dramatic pause?"
Hearing him say this, Chen-shu and Chen-sao's ears perked up and they looked eagerly at Xuanmin.
Xuanmin straightened up. Casting an eye back into the thick fog in that abandoned village, he
raised his other hand.
He uncurled his fist, and, with a light clang, the copper coin pendant fell out and dangled gently
from his finger.
"Indeed, I cannot approach. However––" Now Xuanmin finally let go of Xue Xian's wrist, so that he
could use his index finger to nudge the coins into some kind of sequence. Calmly, Xuanmin said,
"Since we cannot go there, then let them come here."
Xuanmin took away his other hand and the coins emitted a humming noise, the red string that tied
them together suddenly tightening.
Then, a deafening noise came from within the abandoned village, as though something had been
uprooted from the ground.
Startled, the group inside the carriage looked at each other anxiously. At that moment, a black scar
appeared in the fog and loomed over them.
"Oh heavens, look! What's that?" Xingzi shouted, tugging at Chen-sao's sleeve and pointing at the
sky.
The black shadow was coming toward them at high speed, and as it approached, its silhouette
became clearer––
That was the entirety of an old, dilapidated compound, which, along with the patch of ground on
which it had originally stood, was being levitated over to them by Xuanmin.
Hong––
With an immense thud, the compound landed on the ground in front of them, that patch of weeds
surrounding the buildings sinking its roots into the new earth immediately.
This was what Xuanmin had meant by: Since we cannot go there, then let them come here.
Chen-sao, Chen-shu, and Xingzi were rendered speechless with shock. They had never imagined
such an extravagant way of moving house –– they forgot even to close their mouths.
As the compound fell to the ground, they could also hear the sound of screaming coming from
within the building. And...
"Bookworm," Xue Xian suddenly said, peering at the skinny silhouette clinging tightly onto the
knocker of the front doors. He sneered, "Are you trying to become this household's door god?" [a]
That skinny silhouette was none other than the escapee from Xue Xian's pocket –– Jiang Shining.
Of course Jiang Shining would never have been able to sit tight in the carriage and wait for news
about his sister. Xue Xian had guessed right –– Jiang Shining had indeed tumbled away from his
hiding place in Xue Xian’s robes and followed Xuanmin into the village. He had been there when
Xuanmin had discovered where his sister and brother-in-law were being kept. But one key
difference between him and the monk was that Xuanmin was a human and could therefore not
enter the compound, whereas Jiang Shining was a ghost, and effortlessly strode to the compound's
front doors. But before he could go inside, the entire place had been brusquely yanked away...
He hadn't had the time to turn back into a paper man, so now he came face to face with Chen-sao,
Chen-shu, and Xingzi.
"Oh heavens... Jiang... Jiang-xiao-shaoye?" Chen-shu stammered. "You... you didn't... are you
still..."
He wanted to say You didn't die, but the word ‘die’ was too inauspicious, and he could not get
himself to utter it. Then he wanted to say, Are you still alive, but that phrase sounded far too
awkward, so he had not been able to say that, either –– ultimately coming across as a stuttering
mess.
Xingzi's eyes brimmed with tears again as she tugged furiously at Chen-sao's sleeve. "I knew it! I
knew I'd really seen him! I really did see Jiang-xiao-shaoye knock on the door... but... but xiaoshaoye, you..."
Jiang Shining met all of their eyes calmly and saluted them. "Knocking on the door had been a
reckless action. I scared you, Xingzi-guniang."
"And now you're..."
"Sadly, I'm a rogue ghost." Jiang Shining laughed bitterly, then added, "Chen-shu, Chen-sao, it's
been a while. Thank you for having missed me all this time."
Hearing the word ghost, the mortals in the carriage all fell silent, unsure what to say to that ––
besides, the current circumstances weren't the best time to talk about the past together.
"Xu Compound..." Xue Xian muttered as he read the signage on the compound's front doors.
"Xu?" Chen-shu repeated. "Could this be the home of Xu-da-shanren?"
"Xu-da-shanren?" Xue Xian asked. "Who's that?"
Chen-shu explained: "Most people who lived in Wen Village were surnamed Wen, and only about ten
of the households had moved in later. One of them was a merchant surnamed Xu. They say that he
had started out his career as a textile merchant and had even owned his own textile mill, and that
he had earned a great deal of money over the decades. But at some point, a tragedy occurred, and
he sold the textile business and moved his family to Wen Village, which was his wife's hometown.
He lived there for fifteen or sixteen years. He was an immensely kind man, and didn't lack money.
Everyone in the village received his generous help. That's why they called him Xu-da-shanren."
Xue Xian had been about to knock on the door, but, hearing Chen-shu's words, he stopped. Instead,
he waved his sleeve and summoned a tiny gust of wind that filtered through the minuscule gap
between the set of rusted doors and gently pushed them open.
As the ancient doors creaked open, there came several more screams of terror from the eastern
room –– there were people in there, and they were deathly afraid.
In the same moment that Xue Xian was opening the front doors of the compound, someone had
shuffled over to the shut door of the eastern room and had been about to push it open, but
suddenly stalled. This person raised his hand to protect his eyes, seemingly unable to tolerate the
thin stream of daylight that was seeping from outside onto his face.
The patch of light could not illuminate what this person looked like, only a vague contour –– his
back was hunched over with age, showing that he was at least fifty years old. Although he had
originally been of average height, his legs no longer stood steady, and his knees sagged so that he
appeared bowlegged.
It took the man a long time to get used to the light. Finally, he put down his hand and, standing
half-submerged in the darkness, calmly said: "My dear guests, why are you standing by the front
door? Today your humble servant Xu [b] celebrates his birthday and everyone is invited. If you would
please, I would be honored if you would come in to feast and drink some wine."
The group was stunned. This really was Xu-da-shanren.
Before they could react, Xu-da-shanren spoke again. "I am lucky to have old friends looking out for
me, who have travelled a great distance to celebrate with me. They are one of the most famous
theatre troupes in Anqing, and their performances are melodious and entertaining. You may come
inside and wait for a while, and treat your ears. Every time the troupe visits, the entire Wen Village
rejoices. Everyone loves to listen to them."
Theatre troupe?
Xue Xian and Xuanmin exchanged glances, both recalling the group that they had previously
encountered. But their thoughts were interrupted by a transformation of the scene in front of
them––
Xu-da-shanren's words seemed to have triggered some kind of hidden portal. The dilapidated Xu
compound was suddenly lit up by rows of brilliant red lanterns, and a crowd began to walk the
streets of Wen Village. Hundreds of people milled about from beyond the fog, walking towards the
compound, forming a dense crowd whose end could not be seen.
And at the same time, the sound of trotting horses emerged from the other end of the mountain
path, making its way toward the village
Chapter 50: 'Ride the Air' Design (I)
The group turned to see the silhouette of a carriage train rumbling out of the fog and toward Wen
Village. Three horses led the way, and a mule drew the final carriage at the end, with a driver for
the first carriage only. The man driving the train was tall and strong, with three long scars down his
face, which made him appear violent, and not at all kind.
But Jiang Shining and the others knew that this man only looked unkind. In reality, he was deeply
amiable... If he were still alive, he could be called a good person.
The troupe was none other than the kind-hearted people who had picked up Xue Xian's group on
that snowy day in Guanyin Port.
"They're still here?" Jiang Shining mumbled.
As a respectable rogue ghost himself, Jiang Shining knew exactly how much ghosts feared coming
into contact with living people and yang energy. Not many ghosts and spirits would choose to go
around in broad daylight –– the exceptions were those who had been anchored to something
tangible, like Jiang Shining and his paper body, and who also had someone looking out for them,
just as Xue Xian and Xuanmen had taken Jiang Shining under their wing. Even then, ghosts only
dared to become active on overcast days or in the early mornings. But this long-dead troupe
travelled with no nervousness at all.
It was because they did not know that they were dead. They had no sense of danger nor selfconsciousness. But how many crowded streets full of living people had the troupe already
traversed? Any other ghost would long have been dissolved by the strong yang energy all around
them, yet this troupe had somehow made it all the way here with no issue.
"You think they belong to the same category as you?" Xue Xian asked, glancing at the bookworm. "I
only said that they're already ...... But I never said they were the same kind as you."
Confused, Jiang Shining said, "Are they not?"
"If I told you eight hundred times that you're dead, will you vanish?" Xue Xian snapped.
"…You haven't said it eight hundred times yet. More like eighty,” Jiang Shining replied.
"So? Aren't you still bouncing around happily now?"
Jiang Shining still didn't understand. "If they're not ghosts, then what are they?"
"Duty spirits," [a] Xuanmin said.
"What are –– duty spirits?" Jiang Shining had never heard of such a thing.
Duty spirits were neither ghosts nor resentful spirits. Duty spirits existed because they had made a
promise in life that they were unable to forget. The strength and sincerity of their commitment to
that duty engulfed all other concerns at the moment of their death, to the point where they were
not even aware that they had died –– all they knew was that they had a promise that they had not
yet fulfilled, which drove them to keep going.
"It's like if you have debt up your ass, but died before you could pay it off," Xue Xian explained
lazily. "And all you can think of while you die is, 'How could I die? And why did it have to be now? At
least wait until the debt is repaid, and then I can die.' So you find some other way to stay.
Understand?"
"What happens when you fulfil your duty?"
"Then you can depart," Xue Xian replied.
But whether the troupe were duty spirits or ghosts, the group was now in a highly awkward
situation –– stuck between a rock and a hard place. [b]
"Both ways are blocked. What will we do about my sister?" Jiang Shining asked anxiously. "How do
we get out of here?"
Xue Xian glared at him. "Who said we were getting out of here?"
"We're not?!" Chen-shu and Chen-sao blurted out. The crowd of villagers was getting closer to the
Xu compound, and in turn, these two were trembling even harder.
If we don't leave, are we staying to be food for the spirits?!
"Some invitations cannot be rejected," Xue Xian said, wagging his finger. "There are limitations to
all of the spirits wandering around in this village. As long as they remain inside their loop, [c] then
everything is normal. But if they leave the loop, then things become uncertain. Think about it. If a
nice person insists on you coming over to their place for a drink, and you say no, what would
happen?"
You would probably go back and forth a little, each insisting the opposite to the other. Of course,
when living people tussle over such a minor thing, ultimately one of them would give in, and it
would be fine. But it was different when it came to those who had already died. What if you
angered the spirit? Or what if you accidentally tore them out of their loop?
It was far too dangerous...
But the reason why Xue Xian hadn't decided to leave immediately was not because he minded the
danger –– if he was truly reluctant to delay their journey, then even the Jade Emperor [d] wouldn't
be able to stall him. Xue Xian didn't mind staying a bit longer because he'd detected something
strange about the place, and suspected he might be able to find some more pieces of his dragon
bones nearby.
While the group stood by the door talking, the scarred man had already pulled at his reins and
stopped the carriages. He jumped off from his seat and paused with shock when he saw Xue Xian
and the others, but quickly saluted and walked over. Frowning, he said, "Why have you come here?"
When normal people run into people they know while on a journey, they find it a happy
coincidence. Their dismayed comments would be accompanied by a smile, and they would not be
upset by the encounter –– they would even try to stay and make some small talk. But this scarred
man had never been an ordinary person, and faced with Xue Xian's group, his gaze betrayed a sense
of... reproach?
He offered no polite greeting, and seemed downright unhappy –– it was the direct opposite of the
warmth with which he'd helped them previously.
Now, a group of men and women of all ages were streaming out of the three carriages. Some went
to the mule-drawn carriage to unpack, and others made their way to join the scarred man.
One of the old women looked at the Xu compound and said to Xue Xian's group, "What are you all
doing here on a freezing cold winter day? You should return to the xian cheng."
The old woman was familiar to them –– the portable heater that Stone Zhang loved to clutch had
been a gift from her. She had also been a kind-hearted and warm soul, so why was she now as rude
as the scarred man, so eager to chase them away?
This was the first time Jiang Shining had been asked to leave in such a veiled way. He stood rooted
in his spot, embarrassed and unsure what to do.
"Ah –– Renliang, they are all my guests for the day. Come, come, tie your horses in the barn and
drink some hot wine to warm up your throat!" Xu-da-shanren interjected. He waved at the troupe
by the carriages and called out, "Come in, everyone."
Then he reached out a hand to pull Xue Xian in.
"Aiya, I've been sitting for so long that my back hurts––" Xue Xian said, grasping Xuanmin who stood
right next to him and leaning against Xuanmin so as to stretch his back, thus smoothly avoiding
being touched by Xu-da-shanren.
Xue Xian's gesture appeared completely natural and harmless, with no trace of deceit. So Xu-dashanren wasn't bothered –– instead, he switched targets and tugged at the next person, which was
Jiang Shining.
Jiang Shining: “...”
How unlucky... This was Jiang Shining’s first time getting his wrist seized by a ghost. Just like Jiang
Shining himself, Xu-da-shanren's fingers were freezing cold from the yin energy that coursed
through them –– if he'd been holding onto a living person, that person's wrist might've become numb
from the cold, but to Jiang Shining, it made no difference.
"Xiao-xiongdi, [e] what is your name? I should have prepared some heaters. My hands are much too
cold –– are they a bother?" Xu-da-shanren said courteously.
Jiang Shining laughed drily. "We're in the same boat."
He was probably even colder.
Helpless, Jiang Shining allowed himself to be dragged into the main hall of Xu Compound. As he
entered, he looked around and said, "Xu-laoye, please do not hesitate to go take care of your other
guests. I can help myself." As he spoke, he inspected the eastern room from the corner of his eye.
"I'm afraid I have been a poor host," [f] Xu-da-shanren replied politely. "I have too many guests. If
I've missed something, I hope xiao-xiongdi can forgive me. Your humble servant Xu is going to go
greet his hometown friends. Xiao-xiongdi, you may walk around as you please."
As he spoke, Xuanmin and the others entered the main hall too. Xu-da-shanren saw Xue Xian and
paused. He asked, "This xiao-xiongdi is... incapacitated?"
Xue Xian patted his legs. "My legs are paralysed. I can't walk."
Xu-da-shanren smacked himself on the forehead and said, "You've come to the right place. Your
humble servant Xu happens to have a two-wheeled carriage. My late mother's legs were
handicapped and she could not walk, so I hired a carpenter to make her one. These days, it's been
gathering dust in a corner, and I have no use for it. Xiao-xiongdi, why don't you take it? It seems
awfully tiring for your friends to carry you all the time."
Chuckling politely, Xue Xian said, "It's not tiring at all, don't worry."
Xuanmin, the one actually tiring himself out: “...”
Xu-da-shanren wasn’t just a polite conversationalist; he was a man of action. He immediately
ordered servants to push the two-wheeled carriage that he kept in a side room out to the main hall.
This was when Xue Xian noticed that none of the rooms in the Xu compound had thresholds –– it
seemed that when he'd first had the compound constructed, Xu-da-shanren had done away with
thresholds in order to allow his mother to move around.
Just from this tiny detail, Xue Xian felt that Xu-da-shanren's nickname was accurate: he really was
a saint.
The two-wheeled carriage was called a ‘carriage’, but it was really just a chair with two wooden
wheels attached to either side. Behind the chair were two small wooden handles, which allowed
the family servants to push the chair. Xu-da-shanren ordered his servants to wipe the chair clean,
and then asked them to find a cushion to install onto the seat.
Xue Xian thanked him profusely and said, "Please don't worry about that. I'm not very fussy."
"It's no issue at all. We have many cushions put aside just for this purpose. The chair is far too hard,
and becomes uncomfortable after a while. Besides, the weather is so cold, and it would not do to
catch a cold." Xu-da-shanren was about to go on, but Xue Xian had already settled into the chair
and was asking Xuanmin to push him.
"Alright, alright. Xiao-xiongdi, you are an interesting person," Xu-da-shanren compromised with a
smile.
He saluted the guests, then went away to find his hometown friends.
Xue Xian watched as he left, making sure that he turned a corner before Xue Xian brusquely pushed
open the door to the eastern room.
Inside, that group of beggars had grouped together into a tight cluster around the almostevaporated soup. Earlier, when they'd heard the sound of laughing and conversation outside, they'd
feared that it came from some kind of ghost and monster bonfire party, and had been so terrified
that they'd barely dared to breathe. So when Xue Xian suddenly slammed the door open, the
beggars thought they would piss themselves.
Two of the most cowardly of them fainted, landing on the floor with two dull thuds.
Xue Xian was not offended at all –– instead, he laughed and remarked, "Well, that's far too polite a
greeting."
Perhaps fearing that the niezhang would make more mortals faint with his unfunny jokes, as soon
as Xuanmin had pushed Xue Xian into the door, he immediately steered him all the way into the
corner of the room, then drew a circle around the wheelchair. Xuanmin took out a talisman and
pasted it lightly to Xue Xian's forehead.
Xue Xian: “...” What am I, a brain-devouring corpse?
"Bald donkey, why do you have to be like this? Haggling over every cent! All I did was touch your
head! I wasn't mocking you. What the hell?" Xue Xian shouted at the wall, which he had been made
to face. The talisman had frozen all of his movements, and there was nothing he could do. He
rolled his eyes and was about to launch into another tirade when he suddenly felt something cold in
his hand.
Xue Xian looked down and saw that Xuanmin was putting the copper coin pendant back into his
hand and closing his fist around it for him. Xuanmin said, "This is the part of the village with the
strongest spiritual power. Take advantage of it to heal your body."
Xuanmin patted the back of Xue Xian's head, then walked away.
“...” Xue Xian paused to gaze at the pendant in his hand, then asked, "Where are you going?"
He wanted to turn to see what Xuanmin was up to, but with the talisman stuck to his forehead, he
could not even move his neck.
The group of beggars watched all of this with utter bewilderment. Even Jiang Shijing and Fang
Cheng gawked, confused. But then, interrupting their daze, Chen-shu and Chen-sao burst into the
eastern room with Xingzi hot on their heels. Seeing Jiang Shijing, they all ran over to her. "Shaofuren!"
"Shaoye, shao-furen, you scared this Lao-Chen to death!" Chen-shu said. But seeing that the couple
were largely unharmed, he breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Then he noticed the group of beggars
and rushed to put himself between the beggars and the couple. "Yu'e and Xingzi have cried multiple
times already," he said to the couple.
As Jiang Shijing gently consoled Chen-shu, Xingzi hurried over to untie the couple. And indeed the
beggars really had not wanted to harm the doctors, for even now the beggars were so terrified that
they looked like a row of geese. Naturally, none of the beggars made a move to stop the doctors
from being freed.
Xingzi threw the rope away and said, "It's good that you're okay! Chen-sao and I, and even Jiangxiao-shaoye, were all crying just now. We were sick with worry!"
“Jiang... Jiang-xiao-shaoye?" Jiang Shijing froze and grasped Xingzi's sleeve. "Who are you talking
about? Jiang-xiao-shaoye? Which Jiang-xiao-shaoye?"
Before Xingzi could respond, a warm, nasal voice said, "Jie, [g] it's me..."
Chapter 51: 'Ride the Air' Design (II)
Jiang Shijing fell silent.
Her hand that clutched Xingzi's sleeve trembled. Just that word ‘jie’ had sent a thick layer of tears
brimming in Jiang Shijing's eyes and clouding her vision. Her mind was so confused that, for a
second, she couldn't understand why her vision had suddenly gone blurry, instead only trying to
open her eyes wider and slowly looking around the room, searching for the source of that voice.
“A-Ning? Is that you, A-Ning?" As Jiang Shijing's eyes swivelled, two round tears came tumbling down
her face. "S-stop hiding, jie can't see you..."
Now more tears were springing forth, and she still could not see.
"I was afraid that if I appeared directly before you, I would scare you," Jiang Shining said. After
having quietly entered the room behind the others, he had hidden himself away in a dark corner by
the bed.
"How..." Jiang Shijing's tears were flowing freely now, and that single word broke into a sob. She
took a deep breath. "How could you scare me? No matter what you look like now, you could never
scare me. Jiejie is not afraid. Please come out, stop hiding..."
Before she could finish speaking, she felt her vision clouded with endless tears and her body
brought into a hug.
The person hugging her was thin and wiry, and the chest against which her face was now buried was
weak and frail –– but it was a familiar feeling, one Jiang Shijing knew from childhood. Ever since
she was young, whenever she was upset, her little brother who was three years younger than her
would come and console her by telling her funny things he'd read in books and embarrassing things
he'd done in the past, until she couldn't help but burst into laughter. He did this every time, from
when he was a toddler who could only wrap both his arms around one of hers, to when he had
grown a head taller than her and could fold her into a loving hug.
But before, Jiang Shining's hugs had been full of warmth. Now, there was no warmth at all –– only a
coldness that seeped right into her heart.
Jiang Shining held on to his sister tightly, but it was only when he felt that she had begun to
tremble that he realised that he no longer had the body temperature of a living person. Of course
his hugs would be freezing cold to others. So he awkwardly let go and stepped away, in case his
cold aura affected his sister, too.
"Why are you so cold?" Jiang Shijing sobbed as she grabbed onto Jiang Shining’s hand, forbidding
him from moving away. As she gripped his hands in hers, she breathed hot air onto his fingers so as
to warm them. But seeing that this did nothing, she began to cry even harder.
Jiang Shining raised his head to the ceiling and blinked hard, trying to get himself together. Then
he looked down at his sister again and said, "Jie, you can stop now. I don't feel cold."
Jiang Shijing's tears seemed to have no end. They were now dripping all over Jiang Shining's hands,
and she grasped his fingers tightly, moving to brush her tears away. But before she could do so, the
moisture was already seeping right into Jiang Shining’s skin.
When one is experiencing turbulent emotions, naturally it becomes difficult to control the strength
in one's hands.
Having been soaked wet by his sister's tears, Jiang Shining's paper hands were already vulnerable.
Now, as she furiously scrubbed at his skin to dry away her tears, his fingers began to show clear
signs of ripping in half. But Jiang Shining didn't want to take his hands away. He wanted to let his
sister cry out all the sadness that she'd been keeping inside her all these years, even if he had to
give up parts of his fingers.
But if his fingers really fell off, he worried he would shock his sister. So he reluctantly gazed at
Jiang Shijing and waited for the moisture in his own eyes to clear, then looked up at Fang Cheng.
"Jiefu, [a] jie has cried enough to wash my robes for me. Can you help me?"
When he had first seen Jiang Shining, Fang Cheng had had a nasty fright, and then had settled into
a turmoil of emotions. Although Fang Cheng had not watched Jiang Shining grow up day by day like
his wife had, he had spent some time with him during their childhoods. When they'd been young,
they would go together to the mountains to collect medicinal herbs, and, when Fang Cheng had
gotten married, it was Jiang Shining who had carried A-Ying into the palanquin...
Fang Cheng had never thought their next meeting would have been on the border of the countries
of yin and yang.
Of course Fang Cheng understood how his wife felt, so he had stood there silently, not wanting to
disturb. It was only when Jiang Shining spoke to him that, red-eyed, Fang Cheng nodded and came
to hug his wife. "If you keep crying all over him, he won't even be able to speak," he said softly.
"That's right. Jie, the reason I'm here today is all thanks to the generous help of distinguished
people," [b] Jiang Shining said. He was afraid that Jiang Shijing would ruin her eyes from crying, so
he shot Fang Cheng a look and changed the subject.
This was exactly how the two had learned to partner up to console Jiang Shijing when she was
upset, a long time ago now.
"Distinguished people?" Fang Cheng asked as he lightly rocked his sobbing wife back and forth.
"Where are the distinguished people you mean, A-Ning? Your sister and I need to offer our deepest
thanks."
From the corner, Xue Xian laughed dryly and said, "No need to thank me, but it would be great if
you could take this damn paper off my forehead."
Jiang Shining: “...” Right. He had forgotten that the 'distinguished person' was being made to face
the wall.
Fang Cheng and Jiang Shijing looked at Xue Xian sitting in the corner, then looked back, perplexed,
at Jiang Shining, unable to make head nor tail of the situation.
"What have you done to piss off dashi now..." Jiang Shining said as he walked over to Xue Xian. "Will
I be punished too if I take the talisman off?"
Xue Xian laughed drily again. "I can't say I know what the bald donkey will do if you take it off. But I
promise you, if you just stand there and watch me suffer without helping me, after I get out of
here, I will make you kneel down by my feet and beg me for forgiveness for the next eight
generations of your family."
Jiang Shijing and Fang Cheng: “...”
They had never seen a 'distinguished person' act like that before...
"Okay," Jiang Shining said neutrally. "If you put it that way, then I really don't dare to remove the
talisman. If I do, then you'll be able to move."
“…Bookworm, are you rebelling?" Xue Xian growled.
Of course, ultimately all that was just talk. Jiang Shining was a soft man, and could never look on
while someone else was in trouble. He walked slowly around the wheelchair and admired how
obedient and quiet the zuzong looked sitting there, then finally reached out to pinch the talisman
on Xue Xian's forehead.
But he had accidentally used the hand that his sister had drenched in tears. And Xuanmin's talisman
wasn't like normal paper –– it was hard to pull out.
So, as Jiang Shining tugged hard at the talisman––
That damp hand... ripped in half.
Xue Xian: “...”
Jiang Shining: “...”
"A-Ning, why are you just standing there immobile?" Jiang Shijing asked.
^Panicked, Jiang Shining forced his agonised expression down and turned back around to face his
sister, quickly hiding his torn hand behind his back. His face green with pain, he smiled at Jiang
Shijing and said, "Nothing, I'm just––"
He was interrupted by an aggressive guangdang noise as the door was slammed open.
The room fell silent and everyone –– except for Xue Xian who could only face the wall –– looked up
at the large group now streaming in. The first man was tall and broad, with three scars on his face,
and looked more like a bandit than that group of beggars.
The newcomers were none other than the theatre troupe.
The last person to enter was Xuanmin. As he stepped inside, he closed the door behind him, so that
Xu-da-shanren and the other guests could not get in.
As the din of laughter and conversation from the main hall streamed into the room, it all felt
strangely far away, as though separated by layers of thick fog, or as though the lively noise was
coming from several streets away. The atmosphere was highly unnatural and unsettling.
Clearly, Xuanmin had gathered everyone in this one room because he had questions he wanted to
ask. But before Xuanmin could speak, the scarred man boomed angrily, "Don't you know what kind
of place this is? Are you stupid? Why are you still here?"
His gaze fell upon the beggars' pot of soup and he frowned and said, "There are countless other
places to shelter from the weather. These days, the mountains are full of abandoned temples. You
could have gone to any of them, but you chose to come here. Do you want to die?"
"Ai..." one of the beggars sighed. "We have old people and children, and they're all gravely ill. We
can barely walk at all, let alone climb a mountain."
"Are you not locals? Have you never heard of Wen Village?" the scarred man replied, though he had
now lowered his voice. "Don't you know that this village has been abandoned for many years now?
Not a single living soul lives here, and you all have the gall to rest your feet here! Besides, you had
to come at exactly this moment! Don't you know? No one sitting in that room out there is human!"
Jiang Shining and Lu Nianqi both wore complicated expressions on their faces as they thought, How
funny –– one ghost telling you to beware of the other ghost.
But only a few of them knew the truth about the troupe. No one else did, so they went along with
what the scarred man was saying.
"Of course we know. We've heard many rumors about how there's always noise around the end of
the winter months, with people coughing and talking, and even theatre––" The beggar trailed off as
he noticed that the scarred man was holding costumes in his arms, as well as a long prosthetic
beard–– "Performers..." the beggar finished, suddenly pale.
Seeing the beggar's face, the scarred man shook his head and said, "We do perform here, but it's
different..."
He glanced at the door, as if seeing the guests gathered in the hall beyond it. Sighing, he
continued, "Our troupe are all from this village. We grew up eating the rice here and drinking the
water here, and we owe everything to Xu-da-shanren. If it weren't for him, the members of our
troupe would probably have long been reborn into another life and died there.
"We want to find ways to repay him, but he doesn't lack anything –– he just loves to listen to
theatre,” the scarred man continued. “Our troupe spends all year travelling far and wide, but each
winter, we will make our way back here and perform for Xu-da-shanren on his birthday. To make
him happy is the least we can do. It's been about ten years..."
"Ten years?" an older beggar asked. "Of course you can sing when this da-shanren was still alive, but
he's dead now. Why do you still come back here year after year?"
"We promised," an old woman from the troupe said gently, smiling. "We promised him, all those
years ago, that as long as he was there to listen, we would sing for him. Year after year, he's still
here, so how could we not come?"
"We're used to it. After all, we do this every year and fully know the risks. But you're all different.
The people here don't know you, and we can't predict what'll happen if you stay too long. We're
talking about the border between yin and yang here. Some of you could die," the scarred man said,
frowning at the group. "I'm going to go talk to Xu-da-shanren and convince him that you all came in
by accident and have matters to tend to elsewhere, and for him to let you go willingly."
As the scarred man was speaking, Xuanmin had walked over to the window and was looking out into
the village from the broken window panes. Now, Xuanmin frowned and said, "This Wen Village is
surrounded by mountains on three sides and leaves one side to gather wind and welcome the sun.
This is a feng shui design known as ‘Ride the Air’, [c] so how could there be dead souls trapped
here..."
Plus, the whole village's souls were tied to the land. Normally, when so many dead souls were
involved, a village like Wen Village would only be able to sustain them all for two or three years.
But neither Xu-da-shanren nor his neighbors seemed about to disappear –– instead, they looked like
they had only recently died. There was only one explanation... Something, someone, had secretly
modified the geomantic design.
Xuanmin glanced at Xue Xian in his wheelchair from the corner of his eye, then turned to the
scarred man. "You were born here. Have you ever seen anything strange around the village?"
Then, Xuanmin thought for a while, and decided that it was best to let Xue Xian explain. He walked
to the corner, intending to temporarily remove the talisman from Xue Xian’s forehead.
But as he looked down, he came face to face with Xue Xian's blank, numb expression ––
Now the niezhang had not only a talisman on his forehead, but a severed hand as well.
Xuanmin: “...” Even making Xue Xian face the wall hadn't prevented him from getting into trouble.
---
Chapter 52: 'Ride the Air' Design (III)
After having been torn off, Jiang Shining’s hand had returned to its original paper form. It hung
from the talisman to which it was stuck, and billowed gently with Xue Xian's breath, making the
zuzong look ridiculous. It was obvious who the culprit behind this was.
Xuanmin looked over at Jiang Shining, and the latter cleared his throat. Still trying to hide his torn
hand from his sister, Jiang Shining smiled at Xuanmin and said, "I was extremely fascinated by
dashi’s spell, so I couldn't resist reaching out to touch it..."
Who would believe that? Jiang Shining had always been a stickler for the rules. Even if he had been
overcome by curiosity, he would rather have let it choke him to death than touch Xuanmin's
talisman without express permission. Besides, Jiang Shining had seen Xuanmin use talismans several
times now, so why would he suddenly be fascinated?
Even an idiot would know that it was Xue Xian who had forced Jiang Shining to do it.
Calmly, Xuanmin retracted his gaze and said nothing. He gently peeled that paper hand away from
the talisman and said to Jiang Shining, "Give me your wrist."
"Mn?" Jiang Shining asked, momentarily confused.
He subtly adjusted his position so that he blocked his sister and brother-in-law's view, then brought
out his mangled wrist. Still nervous that his sister might see something, he kept trying to glance
back at them from the corner of his eye, so did not pay attention at all to what Xuanmin was doing.
All he felt was that someone was applying pressure all around his wrist, and, when he looked back,
the hand had been put back with no sign of fracture or wound –– only a tiny, almost imperceptible
scar.
Not only had Jiang Shining not been punished, but his hand had been returned to him. High priests
really were on another level.
Jiang Shining pinched his wrist and moved it around a little. "Thank you so much, thank you. Next
time..."
As Xuanmin's gaze lightly fell upon him, Jiang Shining froze and immediately began to shake his
head, saying, "There won't be a next time."
"Mn," Xuanmin said nonchalantly before swiftly turning back to face the unfortunate Xue Xian.
"Stop staring at me. I've accumulated a whole mouthful of blood out of sheer rage. If you keep
staring at me like that, I'll spit it out all over your face." Xue Xian had been stewing there, feeling
oppressed, and Jiang Shining's meek There won't be a next time had only made him even angrier.
He wanted to reach out and twist Xuanmin's head off.
Xuanmin had been in the middle of reaching out to remove the talisman, but hearing this, he
paused, looked at Xue Xian, and retracted his hand. He turned and made to walk out of the door.
As Xuanmin turned, his white robe lightly billowed and Xue Xian, who was still allowed to lightly
twitch his finger, quickly managed to grab onto Xuanmin's sleeve and tug at it. Xue Xian fluttered
his eyelashes and condescendingly said, "Come back, don't go. I'll generously agree not to spit on
you, alright..."
Xuanmin looked back just in time to catch sight of the niezhang suddenly being seized by a winter
shiver. Xue Xian silently sneezed in the direction of the wall.
As soon as the niezhang sneezed, he raised his eyes and locked his gaze with Xuanmin’s.
Xue Xian: “...”
Xuanmin: “...”
Awkwardly, Xue Xian said, "That was the blood."
Xuanmin: “...”
"I spat it out. I decided to spare your face."
Xuanmin: “...”
Xue Xian was still fuming with anger, but seeing that smooth, pleasant face of Xuanmin's, he
reluctantly decided to put his fury aside. Instead, Xue Xian rolled his eyes and thought, Fine. Let
me reason with you.
So he twitched his finger again and tugged Xuanmin's sleeve toward him.
He'd intended to pull Xuanmin closer to speak to him in a low voice, so that no one else in the room
would overhear his humiliating capitulation. And as for the bald donkey... well, Xuanmin had
already seen Xue Xian lose all of his dignity several times, so there was no need to fear
embarrassment anymore.
But as Xue Xian tugged Xuanmin's sleeve, before he even had the chance to open his mouth to
speak, the bald donkey, as though possessed, suddenly changed his mind, shot a glance at Xue Xian,
and removed the talisman from Xue Xian's forehead.
"This village might have something you're looking for. It is best if you explain..." Xuanmin said,
grasping the wheelchair's handles and turning Xue Xian around to face the scarred man and the
others.
Xue Xian had no choice but to repress his bewilderment at Xuanmin's accommodating behavior. He
said to the scarred man, "If what I'm looking for really is here, it could only have been placed here
about half a year ago or less. Have you visited or passed through his area in the past six months? If
so, did you notice some kind of change –- for instance, in the fields and forests, or in the shapes
and flows of the surrounding mountains and rivers?"
The scarred man shook his head. "Not really. After all, this village has been abandoned for some
time. We are usually elsewhere, and rarely come to this area. It's actually quite sad. Whenever
Qingming Festival or Zhongyuan Festival come up, we simply buy paper money from whatever town
we're stationed in and burn the money there. The last time we were in Wen Village, it was last
winter, and––"
"I remember!" the old woman standing behind the scarred man interrupted. "There really is
something! Leader, do you remember that each time we turn the last corner of the mountain path
into Wen Village, we pass by a small hill and see the crown of that old tree?"
The scarred man paused to recall the scene, then clapped and said, "Oh, right! Thumb
Mountain [a] and that old ginkgo tree! So that's why it felt weird when we were coming into the
village just now –– the stream that runs down Thumb Mountain has disappeared, and the ginkgo tree
is slumped over in a strange way. Also, Thumb Mountain's shape looked a bit strange. I didn't look
too closely so I don't know how it had changed. But-–"
He frowned again and said to Xue Xian, "Wasn't there an earthquake a few days ago? In these
mountainous parts, some slight shifts are bound to happen during earthquakes. Would that count as
what you're looking for?"
Hearing this, Xue Xian cocked an eyebrow. "Of course it counts."
Anyway, even that earthquake might've had to do with his dragon bones.
"Which is the mountain that you call Thumb Mountain?" Xuanmin asked.
The scarred man walked over to the window and peered out from the torn paper, pointing a finger
to the south. "There –– do you see it? That one. It's called Thumb Mountain because it looks like a
thumb."
Xuanmin nodded, then exchanged glances with Xue Xian.
"My own bones are for me to dig," the zuzong said.
This sent jitters across the room –– what did that one mean, My own bones? Who would need to dig
their own bones out of the earth?
"You should be quiet," Xuanmin said. He picked up the twig he'd previously used to draw a circle
around Xue Xian's wheelchair and walked across the room, drawing three lines on the floor: one for
Jiang Shining and his family; one for the beggars whom they'd all ignored up to that point, so they
had no idea what these beggars were doing here; and one for the theatre troupe.
Then, Xuanmin said to the scarred man, "As long as you stay inside these lines, you have nothing to
worry about. If you'd like to leave, you may simply walk out." He nodded a farewell and pushed Xue
Xian out of the room.
Xu-da-shanren was far too generous a host. As soon as he saw the two walk out of the eastern
room, seemingly about to leave the Xu compound, he came over to persuade them to stay.
Unlike Jiang Shining, Xue Xian was not soft at all. If he decided to become cold, he really could
come across as cruel and immovable. Most of the time, though, he didn't really care either way,
and would arbitrarily decide whether to be reasonable or not.
Now, Xu-da-shanren seemed to bring out the best in Xue Xian, or perhaps he was simply in a good
mood. Xue Xian put on an apologetic face and said, "We aren't leaving the village. We are simply
taking advantage of the fact that we have a wheelchair to look around and admire the scenery ––
we'll be back. After all, we need to return your wheelchair."
Reassured, Xu-da-shanren smiled as broadly as the Laughing Buddha [b] and said, "There's no need to
return the wheelchair. All it does here is collect dust. If it can be useful to you, xiao-xiongdi, then
your humble servant Xu is overjoyed. However, you must return! Once you've feasted, the theatre
troupe will take the stage, and xiao-xiongdi must see the show!"
Xue Xian's serious manner in front of Xu-da-shanren was rather believable and polite, except for a
slight hesitation to his tone of voice. But as soon as he and Xuanmin exited the compound, he
forgot all about decorum––
He had a carriage!
He didn't need to have people carry him around anymore. He could go wherever he wanted!
Xue Xian tried to restrain his excitement and turned to Xuanmin behind him. "Before, it was
because we were in front of strangers, so I had you push me around. But you can let go now. It's
just a two-wheeled carriage. I can manage it by myself."
Xuanmin shot him a skeptical look, but let go anyway. He knew that if he tried to get in Xue Xian's
way now, the niezhang really would explode.
If someone who had the power to twist your head off became angry, you knew they would be
capable of anything.
But as soon as Xuanmin took his hands off the wheelchair, he regretted his decision. He
immediately experienced how it felt to let go of something and have it immediately vanish before
your eyes ––
In the instant that he loosened his fingers, Xuanmin suddenly felt a gust of violent wind rise, the
howl of the wind sounding uncannily similar to the roar of a dragon. A thick white fog rushed to
cloud Xuanmin’s vision, and by the time he was able to swat it away, he found that both the
wheelchair and the person sitting inside it had disappeared without a trace, having gone elsewhere
to frolic.
Xuanmin: “...”
He had both expected this, and not expected this.
He’d known that the niezhang would not have just sat there dutifully, but he hadn’t known he was
going to be that dramatic.
Xue Xian borrowed the wind as his legs and dove into the sky, half pushing the wheelchair, half
letting the wind blow him forward. But he was used to using the wind to carry his dragon body, not
a human body in a wheelchair, so initially used far too much force. The rickety old wheelchair
became as swift as the wind and as quick as lightning.
Before he could adjust, Xue Xian had already zoomed through half of Wen Village, and was now
only a few steps away from Thumb Mountain.
He slapped the armrests of the chair and the wooden wheels suddenly came to a halt, sinking
slightly into the mud.
"Did the bald donkey get lost?" the niezhang had the audacity to mutter to himself. He wondered
how he could get Xuanmin to find him again. In reality, this was easy: Xue Xian still held Xuanmin's
pendant in his hand and could simply ring it loudly to notify the monk of his location. But at that
moment, such a thing did not occur to him.
Instead, Xue Xian scanned the thick fog around him, then saw the peak of the mountain jutting out
from above the fog, and inspiration struck.
Xue Xian's idea of 'inspiration striking' was different from that of normal people. The last time
inspiration had struck him, he had suddenly transformed from a dragon into a human in the middle
of the sky and dropped all of his companions straight into the lake to become a pot of human meat
dumplings.
And this time...
Xuanmin had closely looked around in the fog for Xue Xian's traces in the mud and had begun to
follow them. But he had only taken a few steps when he suddenly heard an ear-splitting dragon's
roar.
Xuanmin looked up to see that an immense black dragon's head was now sticking out in the distance
amidst the fog. It swivelled to face in Xuanmin’s direction and was calling out, "Here!" And then
with a puff, it disappeared into the fog again –– probably because its lower body did not have the
energy to sustain its massive head.
Xuanmin: “…………”
But Xue Xian's semi-transformation back into his dragon body had called out to something hidden
within the mountain. As Xue Xian squirrelled back into the fog, the entirety of the land on which
Wen Village stood began to tremble.
---
Chapter 53: 'Ride the Air' Design (IV)
These motherfuckers really had buried his dragon bones into the fucking mud!
Of course, Xue Xian was delighted to have found another part of his body. But in addition to joy, he
also felt an immeasurable rage. To have to go across the entire land digging in the dirt to find bits
and pieces of his own body... Probably no one else in the world understood the complexities of that
feeling.
Xue Xian had felt that feeling at Gravestone Island, and then again at Stone Zhang's compound...
Now, he was starting to get used to it, and it really bothered him. He didn't plan on waiting for
Xuanmin –– Xue Xian had already investigated the surroundings of Wen Village and was now headed
toward Thumb Mountain, sure that Xuanmin would not lose his way.
Thus, Xue Xian summoned another gust of wind to push his wheelchair and zoomed away. In an
instant, he was sitting by the old ginkgo tree at the foot of Thumb Mountain.
Normal trees' crowns always faced the sun –– this was the case no matter what, even if the tree's
trunk was twisted this way and that. But this ginkgo faced the earth, its forehead skimming its
ankles so that it was entirely bent over –– a strange sight.
Although Xue Xian had never been to Thumb Mountain before, he could see that there used to be a
stream coming down it. The hint lay not in traces of the water on the mountain, for there were
none, but because the ginkgo's orientation demonstrated that, in recent times, it had found far
more nutrition in the earth below than in sunshine. Although sunlight filtered in from above, it was
dimmed by the village's fog.
Thus, if Xue Xian wanted to find his dragon bone, all he had to do was look beneath the tree.
Xue Xian slowly pushed his wheelchair so that he could see the patch of earth beneath the ginkgo
tree. The patch of earth was about one zhang in width, and was of a slightly darker color than the
soil around it –– it was damper and contained more moisture, and seemed less packed, as if
someone had recently dug it.
Although the person who had disturbed the earth had attempted to cover their tracks, a close look
revealed the difference. Besides, just Xue Xian's presence made the patch of mud begin to tremble.
The person who had buried the bone had assumed that no ordinary townsperson would visit a
haunted, abandoned village in the middle of nowhere, and had thus assumed their hiding spot
would be safe. But they had not considered that the dragon himself [a] might come knocking at the
door.
Xue Xian laughed coldly. He curled his fingers into a claw shape and swiped at the ground. In
response, something deep within the earth jolted with a peng, like a heartbeat, sending a large
ripple through the entire mountain and scaring a flock of birds away.
As the piercing caws of the birds dissipated, Xue Xian clawed again.
Peng––
With this jolt, something invisible seemed to thrust into that patch of damp mud, making the earth
look recently ploughed.
Peng––
And after that third jolt, Xue Xian lost his patience and clawed as hard as he could.
Suddenly, the entire patch of mud sank deep into the ground, as though sucked away by something,
and the earth around it began to quiver, soften, and slide. A pitch-black hole appeared and grew
ever wider as more and more earth fell in, so that it quickly became a kind of sinkhole, hungrily
devouring everything around it.
In the blink of an eye, even that bent over ginkgo tree was also sucked into the sinkhole, which
made no sign of stopping as it began to loosen the very foundations of rock beneath Thumb
Mountain. Xue Xian hurriedly pushed his wheelchair back, trying to resist the pull of the sinkhole.
Clearly, all of this had been caused by Xue Xian trying to get at his bones. It seemed that the
dragon bones had been clamped down tightly, tied to some kind of array, so that any slight shift
would harm the entirety of Wen Village.
The things Xue Xian had to go through to take back what rightfully belonged to him... Xue Xian
laughed with rage.
He relaxed slightly, and the shaking earth beneath the village and the mountain seemed to calm
down a bit too. The sinkhole itself became less aggressive; it was now swallowing everything
around it in a slower, less terrifying manner. Even Xue Xian's wheelchair was no longer straining as
hard against the sinkhole's pull...
But when Xue Xian closed his hand into a fist to summon the dragon bone, the earth around him
began to rumble once more, and the sinkhole resumed its eager current.
Xue Xian's brows furrowed, and his expression became cold.
With that aloof expression set against his pale face, he appeared uncannily apathetic, and
extremely intimidating. The difference between his demeanor now and his unserious, carefree dayto-day attitude was as clear as night and day — and highly unnerving.
You extracted my spine from my body while I was still alive, and now you’re telling me I’ll kill
people if I try to take back what’s mine? What the hell are you playing at?
But it was precisely because of this absurdity that Xue Xian was unable to proceed.
As Xue Xian stared into the sinkhole with a face full of hatred, another figure appeared beside him.
Although the figure did not approach him, Xue Xian could feel their body heat — which, amidst the
freezing chill of the fog, felt like such a breath of fresh air that Xue Xian's heart suddenly skipped a
beat, then slowly resumed again. With the advent of that warm body, Xue Xian’s anger and
irritation suddenly seemed to dissolve by half –– replaced by a profoundly reassuring sense of peace
and relief.
"Let me," Xuanmin's deep voice rang out from behind him.
Then, that light white robe drifted past Xue Xian's vision as a slender arm reached over his shoulder
and retrieved the copper coin pendant that Xue Xian had still been gripping tightly in his hand.
Xue Xian listened, stunned, as that familiar chime of the copper coins rang out from behind him
and was followed by an immense force pressing down upon the plants and rocks around them. It
pushed against the fierce current of the sinkhole, which slowed down and finally came to a
complete halt, the mud and boulders no longer tumbling into the abyss. The mountain now stood
rigidly again.
Xue Xian looked up and saw that Xuanmin was, in turn, looking down at him. Xuanmin said, "I'll hold
it back for you. You go ahead and retrieve your bones."
Two short, simple sentences, but they seemed to wipe away all of the fear, confusion, and
resentment in Xue Xian's heart. Xue Xian looked back into the seemingly infinite sinkhole in front of
them, feeling the thrumming call of his dragon bones buried deep within, and suddenly snorted
with laughter -– a laugh that was so different from his daily mockery and sneering; a laugh that
contained no irony. A genuine, sincere laugh.
Xue Xian didn’t say the fake polite phrase If it’s not too much trouble; neither did he give a word
of thanks. He simply flexed his shoulders and said, “Mn. Are you holding it steady? I'm going for it
now––"
Then, he reached out those fingers and clawed again.
This time, Xue Xian stopped trying to restrain himself. Although Xuanmin was using all of his power
to hold down the shifting earth beneath the mountain, there were still slight tremors when Xue
Xian began to pull. As the force buried in the soil shuddered in response, the skin between
Xuanmin's thumb and forefinger split from the pressure and began to bleed. But Xuanmin’s face did
not change –– he continued to hold down the mountain with his copper coin pendant, steady and
safe.
As Xue Xian strained harder, the pendant's ringing grew louder; the fog surrounding Thumb
Mountain seemed to be drawn toward them, so that it wrapped itself around them and began to
swirl violently.
Just as Xuanmin's hand fully split open, a distant dragon's roar rose from within the dark abyss.
Next, a thick piece of white bone leapt out from the ground and flew into Xue Xian's hand –– in the
instant that it came into contact with his skin, it seemed to suddenly melt from some great heat
and slowly sink into his flesh, integrating itself fully into his body.
It felt as though someone had lit Xue Xian's palm on fire, and that the flame had crept into his body
and crawled all the way to his heart, before making its way up to his head and scorching his brain.
For a brief moment, all Xue Xian could feel was that endless flame extending all across his body,
accompanied by burning pain. Apart from the agony, Xue Xian was aware of nothing else, not even
where he was or what was happening. The only thing he could remember, somewhere in the ocean
of his blurred mind, was that the reliable Xuanmin was standing right beside him.
After a long period of pain, Xue Xian finally found something that could help appease the scorching
flame inside him.
He nuzzled eagerly against that thing and allowed it to cool him down while his half-conscious mind
gradually began to emerge from its agonised daze. When he was finally able to open his eyes and
look at his surroundings, Xue Xian saw that he had long transformed back into his dragon form ––
from the looks of the flipped-over wheelchair and the tattered grass around him, it seemed that he
had done so rather suddenly...
And that 'something that could help appease the flame' happened, of all things, to be Xuanmin ––
Xue Xian's dragon body had somehow managed to coil itself around Xuanmin. And not only was he
wrapped around Xuanmin, but his scales kept rippling against Xuanmin's body, as though needing to
extract every bit of relief from Xuanmin's ice-cold body to soothe his own...
Xue Xian: “...”
What now? This was rather embarrassing...
A divine dragon had somehow become someone's large, unwieldy pet. Seeing the way Xue Xian was
slithering all over Xuanmin's body, those who knew the context would be able to chalk it up to a
panicked attempt to cast off some of the heat in Xue Xian’s body. But those who did not know the
context... would think he was extremely clingy.
The main problem was that, apart from Xue Xian himself, no one else was able to actually know
about his ‘about to die of heat’ context –– including Xuanmin.
Xue Xian wanted to die. [b] But he finally forced himself to peek over at Xuanmin's face.
Although he was being crushed on all sides by immense dragon scales, Xuanmin was simply standing
there calmly and silently with his eyes closed. One hand was folded in a Buddhist greeting, and the
other was still gently rubbing the copper coin pendant. Somehow, perhaps due to Xue Xian's
newfound dragon bones or some other enigma, the coins looked just slightly different from before.
Xue Xian had been using the coins to heal his body earlier. It seemed that he had established some
kind of minor connection with the pendant, as though tying a thin thread between him and the
coins.
As Xuanmin traced the contours of each coin with his thumb, Xue Xian could feel, ever so slightly,
that something within the coins was slowly loosening –– and on the surface of the coins was a dim,
oily glow, as though they had finally begun to shed some of that dull rust they’d had before...
Xue Xian suddenly recalled that Xuanmin had mentioned a seal on the coins, but that two of the
seals had begun to loosen. Soon, some kind of turning point would cause the seals to shatter.
Seeing the way Xuanmin was now, it seemed that the turning point had arrived.
Realising that Xuanmin was not paying the slightest attention to the thing wrapped around his body,
all sense of embarrassment evaporated from Xue Xian's mind. Compared to his own body
temperature, Xuanmin's coolness was extremely comfortable, and, now that he had nothing to
worry about, Xue Xian abandoned the last shreds of his dignity and enthusiastically resumed running
his long body against every part of Xuanmin's, hoping to cool himself down as quickly as possible.
The copper coins in Xuanmin's hand trembled one by one, each tremor sending a strange, prickly
feeling rippling across Xue Xian's body, as though each of his scales were lifting up to let the hot air
escape through his pores. This kind of intimate connection with the pendant was a new feeling to
Xue Xian, but it was so beneficial that he readily accepted it.
Kada––
As a sound reminiscent of reeds knocking against each other rang out within Xue Xian's mind, he
lazily opened his eyes and shifted his long dragon body. Raising his head, Xue Xian rested it on
Xuanmin's shoulder to look over at Xuanmin's hand –– in doing so, he noticed that the copper coins
had entirely changed their appearance. Two of the coins had shed their drab grey shells, and now
shone brilliantly with a layer of oil, so that their raw spiritual power could be felt from afar.
But then, Xue Xian noticed the wound on Xuanmin's hand; fresh blood welled up from a horizontal
gash between his thumb and forefinger, streaming down the back of his hand. The blood dripped
onto the ground, which was already splattered with several large bloodstains.
It was obvious where the wound had come from. Within Xue Xian's conscience, he suddenly
discovered the emotion of guilt. It occurred to him that, as a divine dragon, every part of his body
was a treasure to humans. From his dragon scales to his dragon spit… Basically, he could easily help
stop the bleeding.
Thus, a certain dragon — whose mind was still in the throes of disorientation and confusion — bent
his head and licked a stripe across the wound. As the metallic taste of the blood hit his tongue, Xue
Xian's mind suddenly cleared. That finger of Xuanmin's — which had, until this moment, been
unconsciously clicking away at the coins — suddenly stopped too. Xuanmin opened his eyes.
Xue Xian: “...”
Chapter 54: Ancient Drumbeat (I)
All of this zuzong’s scales stood on end and his entire body seized up in embarrassment. When he
saw that the wound on Xuanmin’s hand was quickly beginning to heal, Xue Xian finally came back to
his senses and said, "Look, you're not bleeding anymore. Shouldn't you thank me now?"
As Xue Xian said this, he began to talk to himself in his head, and concluded that his actions had
been entirely logical and reasonable. Reassured that he had not completely, irreversibly humiliated
himself, Xue Xian’s spirits lifted again.
But then Xue Xian realised that Xuanmin had not moved since he’d opened his eyes. He hadn’t even
put down his hand, which was still held up in a Buddhist greeting –– nor had he put away the coins,
the seals of some of which were now successfully broken. When Xue Xian spoke, Xuanmin didn’t
even glance at the wound that Xue Xian had licked...
Now this was weird.
Xue Xian's head rested at too awkward an angle to be able to see Xuanmin properly. It seemed that,
when he'd transformed back into a dragon, in order to avoid burying Xuanmin alive, Xue Xian had
adjusted his size into something smaller. But this was still his original dragon form, and, despite the
adjustment, he was still massive. Xue Xian pondered this, then tilted his head ever so slightly and
lowered his neck so that he could observe Xuanmin while half-propped against the ground.
Now that Xue Xian had changed his point of view, Xuanmin’s strange behavior became clearer. His
brows were slightly furrowed and his lips were pursed, and, although his eyes were open, his gaze
was shrouded by a black mist that let through not a hint of light. He seemed not to be staring at
anything at all, but instead submerged in some kind of dream state.
The most startling part was that the mole on the side of Xuanmin's neck was unusually prominent ––
it now looked like a bruise-colored [a] spider's web that crept from his neck all the way into his robe
collar, looking particularly ominous against his pale, smooth skin and the pristine white fabric. The
overall effect was that of something evil and ominous. [b]
Even Xue Xian, who barely considered his own flesh dripping off his body as a serious wound, was
now stunned by the sight of the spider's web. He reached out a claw and shifted part of Xuanmin's
robe aside so as to see the mole better.
Xue Xian hissed with surprise. The blood vessels had spread across Xuanmin’s entire shoulder, and
even some of the muscles across his back seemed to brim with the hints of more zigzagging veins.
"What the hell is this?!” Xue Xian murmured as he pushed Xuanmin's collar back to its place. At this
rate of infection, half of Xuanmin's body would soon be completely covered in such markings,
turning him from a high priest into a yao-monk.
No matter which way you looked at it, there was something deeply wrong with Xuanmin. But if Xue
Xian suddenly woke him up now, would that harm him?
Contemplating this, Xue Xian waved a claw in front of Xuanmin's face. There was no reaction ––
Xuanmin did not even blink, and that thick blackness continued to cloud his eyes ominously.
How had Xue Xian gotten the bald donkey to open his eyes earlier?
Right, he had licked his wound.
But had it been because Xue Xian had disturbed the wound itself, or had it been the dragon spit...
Xue Xian thought for a while, then used the tip of his tongue to lick Xuanmin's half-healed wound
again.In response, Xuanmin's fingers twitched.
Xue Xian: “...” Do I have to fucking lick him back to life? What kind of impression does that make?
This was nonsense. If Xue Xian didn't know Xuanmin well enough to know that Xuanmin had
absolutely no sense of humor, he would think that he was being played. It was fortunate that this
was Xuanmin; if it were anyone else....
Xue Xian tried to imagine himself licking someone and thought he might vomit with disgust.
He gathered himself together and squinted at Xuanmin. If you don't wake up now, I'm going to give
you a ‘shower’...
Just as Xue Xian opened his jaw and tried to estimate the best angle from which to approach the
wound again, the web of blood vessels across Xuanmin's shoulders suddenly receded. Like the sea
pulling back a great tide, the web quickly vanished back into that small mole on the side of
Xuanmin's neck.
And in that precise moment, the murkiness in Xuanmin's eyes disappeared too, and, as though
suddenly wiped clean, his black eyes regained pools of light.
Then, he frowned, and the hand holding the copper coin pendant dropped. Xuanmin was truly
awake.
As Xuanmin came to, he saw something move against his head in the corner of his eye and glanced
over. He came face to face with a certain someone who had been about to head in for another
‘mouthful’.
Xuanmin: “...”
Xue Xian: “...”
For a long time, neither of them said anything. Finally, Xuanmin asked, "What are you doing?"
Xue Xian: “...”
Could I maybe say that I was planning to eat your meat for dinner? [c]
Or… using your head as a mirror to admire my teeth?
No, Xue Xian couldn't be that much of an asshole. Although Xue Xian didn't mind mocking people
and in fact relished it, when it came to Xuanmin, he couldn’t be so callous. After all... in a way,
the bald donkey had been born to vanquish the likes of Xue Xian.
The niezhang quickly ran through all of the options in his panicked mind, then awkwardly said, "Are
my yawns your business too?"
Normally, Xuanmin would glare at him coolly with a face that said Do whatever nonsense you
like. But now, there was something profound in Xuanmin’s expression, as though he had not fully
returned from whatever vision he'd just experienced.
"Why the tragic face?" Xue Xian asked. "What happened just now? You weren't responding to
anything."
Xuanmin's gaze fell upon the pendant in his hand, and he absent-mindedly rubbed those two shiny
coins with his thumb. After some contemplation, he hooked the pendant back onto his hip and said
mildly, "I remembered some things."
"What things?" Xue Xian asked immediately. Then he casually added, "Of course, it's the usual rules.
If you don't want to tell me something, you can just say that it's not part of what you remembered."
In reality, even such a perfunctory question was highly unusual coming from Xue Xian. He was
normally far too self-absorbed to pay attention to other people's issues, especially their private
issues –– good, bad, sad, happy, he could never get himself to care. If people wanted to tell him
about it, he would listen, and, depending on his mood that day, he might actually become
interested and let them continue speaking, or end up becoming irritated by their rambling. And if
people didn't want to talk about it, he would never consider asking.
But Xuanmin was different –– when it came to Xuanmin's past, Xue Xian constantly harbored a desire
to investigate. The conversation they'd had back at the inn had been instigated deliberately, since,
at the time, Xuanmin's past had had a direct connection to their situation with the poster. But this
time...
This time, there had been no real reason to ask Xuanmin anything. Xue Xian had only asked because
he genuinely wanted to know more about Xuanmin. It was only when he'd already asked the
question that Xue Xian realised: Xuanmin probably did not want to talk about it at all. So Xue Xian
had added on that second part, to provide a way for Xuanmin to step away from the conversation
without being rude or dishonorable.
But Xuanmin did not take the way out: he seemed uninterested in maintaining that aloof,
intimidating, and cautious aura around Xue Xian. Xuanmin gazed into the distant fog for a while,
gathering his thoughts. After some time, he calmly said, "Not much. The memories are extremely
fragmented. Much of them are of copying sutras at a desk as a youth. But..."
"But what?" Xue Xian asked. Xuanmin had paused and begun to frown, as though remembering
something unhappy.
A faint sense of loathing crossed Xuanmin's face. "Two images flashed by, in which I was holding
something in my hand."
"What were you holding?" Xue Xian said.
Xuanmin paused again, then said, "It looked like human skin."
"... What?"
Xuanmin glanced at Xue Xian and repeated, "Human skin –– pieces of it. Smaller than my palm, but
bigger than an elm seed. Two of the pieces were thicker, and the others were all paper-thin."
Xue Xian tried to think of the things Xuanmin would possibly hold in his hand –– such as a muyu, [d] a
talisman, a book, an inkwell, or maybe even potentially an alms bowl –– but human skin? Now that
was unbelievable.
"Human skin?" Xue Xian asked. "You're sure of it?"
Xuanmin nodded.
"And... Do you remember why? Or what you did with it? Maybe you found it somewhere," Xue Xian
suggested.
But that was really unlikely. Could you just come across several pieces of human skin on the street
somewhere?! What a sight that would be! But to think of Xuanmin somehow obtaining human skin...
There was no way he'd have gotten it in an innocent manner.
Although Xuanmin's attitude was indeed different from that of ordinary monks, it was also hard to
believe that he would ever do something so evil...
But no... Xue Xian recalled what Xuanmin looked like with his robes drenched in blood and then
recalled that, a very long time ago, before Xue Xian had become so close with Xuanmin, he himself
had told Jiang Shining: There's something indescribable about Xuanmin. He's like the sharp cutting
edge of a sword wrapped up inside white hemp cloth. Beneath the cool demeanor is something
incisive, as though, if it came down to it, he'd be willing to commit murder… [e]
But that was also different from being inherently evil. [f]
Xue Xian had zoned out pondering all this, and when he came back, he found that Xuanmin was
staring at him. There was something strange in Xuanmin’s gaze, as though he were waiting for Xue
Xian to say something. Xue Xian faltered, then changed the tone in his voice to something more
casual and asked, "When is the memory from? Also your youth?"
"Mn," Xuanmin said.
Now Xue Xian was really confused. "Are you sure? If you don't know what had happened before and
after you were holding the skin, how could you know you'd been young at the time?"
Xue Xian spread his hands. "Young hands look different. Besides, I was sitting in front of a desk,
which had sutras that I'd been copying."
Xue Xian: “...”
Clutching human skin while copying sutras? Do you want to blaspheme your Grandpa Buddha
death?
[g]
to
In all seriousness, now that Xuanmin had asserted that the memory was from his youth, Xue Xian
found it completely impossible to explain the memory. Clearly Xuanmin had not obtained the skin
through killing spirits. [h]
But there had to be some other explanation, right?
Finally, Xue Xian injected a lazy singsong tone into his voice and said, "Well, there's no point in
randomly guessing. We'll have to wait until you remember more. You've managed to remember
something just from breaking the seal on two coins, so maybe when you break the next one, more
memories will come. Perhaps when you break the seals on all five coins, you'll be able to get all
your memories back."
That sounded rather reasonable. Both of them were straightforward people who naturally didn't
want to waste too much time trying to make sense of something that refused to make sense.
Xuanmin reached out his hand and patted Xue Xian's divine dragon chin, then said, "Let's go."
Xue Xian was stunned for a second, then suddenly remembered that he was still coiled around
Xuanmin's body. If he didn't transform back into a human, then Xuanmin couldn't move either. Xue
Xian cleared his throat and summoned a gust of wind to put his wheelchair upright, and then a
white light surged forth and covered him as he put his clothes back on and sat back into the chair.
As he arranged his robe, Xue Xian saw Xuanmin walk over to where the dragon bone had been
buried and extract a handful of copper nails and talismans from the earth. Xuanmin tore off
another piece of white cloth and wrapped the items inside, then put them away. It was only then
that he came over to the wheelchair.
Having learned his lesson, Xuanmin now knew not to let Xue Xian go off on his own again. He
gripped the wheelchair's handles tightly as he got ready to push Xue Xian back to the Xu compound.
But as Xuanmin’s gaze passed across the wound on his own hand, he paused.
The skin between his forefinger and thumb, which had been angrily torn apart earlier, was almost
healed and was already beginning to form into a scab. It seemed that, within half a day, it would go
back to normal, with no hint of having been damaged at all.
Xuanmin only needed to think back a bit to realise how Xue Xian had managed to treat his wound.
The only problem was... Dragon saliva... Was that really a substance to be used so casually?
Chapter 55: Ancient Drumbeat (II)
Xue Xian finished arranging his robe, but saw that Xuanmin was making no move to leave. He
turned around in his wheelchair and complained, "Why are you just standing there?"
Xuanmin lifted up his healing hand and asked, "Do you know what humans use dragon spit for?"
Although Xuanmin seemed quite calm, something in his tone was amiss, as though a series of
complicated emotions were running through him. Xue Xian grimaced. This bald donkey really has to
find the exact thing I don't want to talk about, and then bring it up! Now that I'm human again, I
can't help but feel... so weird about what I did.
Ha. Ha. [a]
Xue Xian rearranged his face into a blank expression and forced himself to come up with something
to save his dignity. "It's my own spit. Why would I want to know what humans use it for?" he
scoffed.
He added: "It’s useful for healing –– that’s all I need to know. It's not like I'm going to start grinding
down all my body parts to sell medicine. Am I crazy?" He glared at Xuanmin spitefully, then turned
back around and knocked his fist impatiently against the armrest, adding, "I healed your wound,
and I don't mind that you haven't even thanked me yet, but please stop it with the nonsense. Let's
go!"
Xue Xian’s aim was to throw a little tantrum –– it didn't matter what he said, as long as his tone was
aggressive enough to make Xuanmin forget about the whole 'licking wound' thing.
It went as planned. Xue Xian subtly peeked back at Xuanmin over his shoulder and saw Xuanmin
shake his hand and put down his hand again. Exasperated, Xuanmin said, "Let's go." Clearly, he had
no plans to keep the conversation going.
Xue Xian was very satisfied.
The two returned to Xu-da-shanren's compound in no time, but avoided the front doors, instead
surreptitiously slipping into the courtyard from a side entrance.
The front hall where Xu-da-shanren had greeted his arriving guests was now completely empty.
Instead, the noise of a crowd rose from some other hall near the back. Due to the thick fog, no one
could not see into that hall from here.
As soon as Xue Xian and Xuanmin returned to the eastern room, Jiang Shining breathed a heavy sigh
of relief. "You're finally back..."
Indeed, without the two zuzongs, there had not been very many reliable, trustworthy people left in
the room. If Xu-da-shanren and the other spirits had suddenly gone insane, then there would have
been nothing Jiang Shining could have done.
"Why do you look so terrified?" Xue Xian sneered. "If you don't go out looking for trouble, then Xuda-shanren won't come in either. Unless you're really unlucky, and he happens to come in here to
retrieve something."
Hearing this, the group in the room were curious. Jiang Shining asked, "If we don't go out, they
won't come in? True… Come to think of it, earlier I heard Xu-da-shanren giving instructions to some
servants outside, telling them to prepare tea and wine. Then the sound moved away. It seems they
really have forgotten that we're here."
Xue Xian waved his hand dismissively. "Of course they won't remember..."
Souls bound to land were not alive. They could only remember the faces and events with which
they had been familiar in life, and were slow to react to outsiders and the unexpected. When Xuda-shanren had Xue Xian and his group in front of him, then he would chat with them amiably as
though he knew exactly what was going on. But if Xue-da-shanren could not see them, then he
would not even think about them, and would soon completely forget that they existed.
So, earlier, when they had spent all that time in the room, Xu-da-shanren had not come to bother
them –– but as soon as Xuanmin had wheeled Xue Xian out, Xu-da-shanren had immediately come to
greet them again.
"I see," the scarred man said, nodding understandingly.
He was about to continue, but Xue Xian suddenly pointed at his troupe and said, "Don't. This has
nothing to do with you. We're the outsiders here. You've been coming over year after year, ever
since Xu-da-shanren was alive. So to those gathered in the hall, you're a part of them. They've
forgotten about you momentarily, but they're going to come looking for you at some point."
As Xue Xian said this, they suddenly heard some footsteps emerge from the back hall, which
seemed to be getting closer...
"Where're Renliang [b] and the others? Look at my terrible memory, I've somehow forgotten to greet
my old friends. What a crime..." Xu-da-shanren was saying to someone as he came right upon the
door.
Du du du ––
Everyone in the room jumped in fright.
"Renliang, are you in there?" Xu-da-shanren asked, knocking on the door. "The feast has been laid
out and we're waiting for you to join us––"
Then came a creak––
Even the slightest touch to that ancient wooden door made it emit an ear-piercing noise.
"We're here, we're here!" the scarred man said as his entire troupe gathered into a dense mass,
blocking the rest of the room from Xu-da-shanren's view at the same moment that Xu-da-shanren
pushed open the door. "We just sat down here to rest. We'll be there soon."
The others gathered in the room could only see the troupe's backs. They heard Xu-da-shanren's
cheerful voice say, "Come, come, you must be hungry after having travelled all this way. Come with
me––"
The scarred man bellowed with laughter and agreed. Then, one by one, the members of the troupe
streamed out of the door and followed Xu-da-shanren into the back hall.
The scarred man held the door open for them and was the last one to leave. Before he did so, he
tilted his head toward the room and said, "Leave now, while you still can. Once we start
performing, we can't help you, and it'll become harder for you to escape."
That was exactly what Xue Xian was thinking too. Now that the scarred man and his troupe had led
Xu-da-shanren away, it was the perfect time.
Everyone in the room got up and dusted themselves off –– only the no-handed beggar seemed to
hesitate.
"You need the two of us to save your friends, right?" Jiang Shijing said, gesturing at the old man and
two children on the bed. "Take them back to the pharmacy with us. Be careful –– use your clothes
to protect yourself from their rashes."
The beggars exchanged glances and eagerly agreed. With no more hesitation now, they hurriedly
wrapped the three ill people in blankets and hoisted them into their arms, ready to leave.
As Xuanmin began to push Xue Xian's wheelchair out of the door, the scarred man returned, as
though having suddenly remembered something. He said, "I can tell that the two of you are highly
powerful [c] people. Just now, I felt something change within Wen Village..."
The scarred man glanced back at the back hall and seemed to travel back in time, wistfully
recalling the laughter and joy of his long-dead old friends. He paused in contemplation, then said
to Xuanmin, "If I may ask... Are they about to depart?" [d]
"Mn," Xuanmin replied. "The array that was interfering with the original feng shui design has been
broken. The souls bound to this land are able to leave now."
"They can probably last the rest of the day," Xue Xian added, looking at the sky outside. "But by
nightfall, they'll be gone."
To Jiang Shining and the other outsiders, those souls were terrifying things that they wanted to stay
well away from. Although they stayed cordial when interacting with the souls, they were unable to
truly feel warmth toward these dead –– all they could do was say a perfunctory word of thanks or of
apology. But to the scarred man and his troupe, these were neighbors and extended family
members that they had known since childhood. Each and every face, mannerism, and smile brought
back vivid memories from the past...
With a complex expression on his face, the scarred man nodded and said in a low voice, "It's for the
best."
…
On the way back from Wen Village, Xue Xian was unusually calm. He did not attempt to summon a
tempest, nor did he turn into a dragon, nor did he seem even to consider sending the carriage into
the sky again. The only thing he did was magically expand the room within the carriage, and then
bring a light breeze behind the horse to speed up their journey.
Jiang Shining was suspicious of how quiet Xue Xian was being, and his eyes kept darting towards
Xue Xian throughout the journey. Finally, Jiang Shining said, "What are you thinking about, all
serious like that?"
Xue Xian glanced at him, then glanced at him a second time. Suddenly, he said, "Oh, right. You
basically count as half a doctor..."
Jiang Shining: “...” Can’t you say something that makes sense?
Seeing that Jiang Shining was edging away from him, Xue Xian nudged himself closer instead and
said conspiratorially, "Let me ask you something. What does dragon spit do?"
Jiang Shining gave him an odd look, as though Xue Xian were a pervert.
"Hey –– what's that look for? I'm asking you a question," Xue Xian said impatiently.
"I just think it's funny that a dragon genuinely needs to ask what dragon spit does," Jiang Shining
replied slowly. "It's... hard to explain. Do you really not know?"
Xue Xian rolled his eyes now. "Would you randomly explore whether your own eyes can be made
into medicine, and if so, what effect it can have? I've never been that interested."
"True," Jiang Shining mumbled, nodding.
"Besides, I can usually just test stuff out on people. But how am I supposed to test out dragon spit?"
Jiang Shining looked at him and said uneasily, "It's best if you don't..."
"Why not?"
"Although I've never been witness to it personally, I have heard some rumors. You see, dragon
spit..." Initially, at the start of the conversation, Jiang Shining had been careful to keep his voice
down, but he had soon forgotten and his voice had inadvertently gone back to normal. So as soon as
he began to explain, a hand suddenly shot out to interrupt him.
Confused, Jiang Shining watched as Xuanmin slammed his copper coin pendant into Xue Xian's hand,
then stuck a talisman onto his forehead and turned his wheelchair around so that he now had his
back to Jiang Shining. Then, Xuanmin shot a silent glance at Jiang Shining.
I don't know what I said wrong, but that look from dashi tells me that I was definitely wrong
somehow, Jiang Shining thought. He laughed awkwardly at Xuanmin, agreeing to shut up, then
turned to gaze out of the window.
"…Bald donkey, just you wait,” Xue Xian said. “When I get this talisman off, I'm going to beat you to
death." Don't you know how torturous it is to only hear half of someone's sentence?
But the talisman was not going to come off anytime soon.
Even when they finally arrived at the Fang compound and settled into one of the wing-rooms, Xue
Xian still could not move.
Xuanmin claimed that corners of rooms were particularly well-suited for healing one’s body, and
wheeled Xue Xian directly there. Thankfully, the bald donkey was kind enough not to make him
face the wall again...
But facing the doorway was equally embarrassing, okay??
Xue Xian felt faint from sheer anger.
When Xue Xian and Xuanmin had gone off to find the dragon bone, Jiang Shining had passed the
time by explaining the details of their journey so far to his sister. Jiang Shijing now knew that they
required drops of her blood to perform the final funeral rites for their parents. But daytime was not
an appropriate time to summon yin spirits, so they needed to wait until sundown.
No matter what, when it came to her parents, Jiang Shijing took things very seriously. So as soon as
the sun disappeared behind the mountains, she and Jiang Shining went to find Xuanmin.
The sky was darkening and the night crept toward them; the lantern inside Xuanmin's room had
already been lit.
Xue Xian sat in a corner with his eyes shut, lightly tapping the copper coin pendant and focusing on
his healing. The lantern cast a warm glow onto him, giving his normally pale face a slightly flushed,
healthy radiance.
As soon as the Jiang siblings stepped inside, they immediately relaxed –– Xuanmin was a
straightforward person who did not like to waste words, so he had already placed the silver medical
bell onto the table.
He reached into his pouch and took out that smaller pouch, from which he selected just the right
length of silver needle. Giving it to Jiang Shijing, he said, "Three drops of blood from the laogong
pressure point."
Jiang Shijing held the needle over the flame to clean it, and then prodded herself in the middle of
her palm. She returned the needle to Xuanmin.
"Drip the blood here," Xuanmin said, pointing out three locations on the bell. "From west to east."
Breathing deeply, Jiang Shijing calmly brought her hand over and dropped her blood onto the bell.
As soon as the drops of blood fell onto the bell, they began to move by themselves. Each time they
rolled over a certain part of the bell, it would suddenly begin to tremble, as though struck by
something invisible. Each gentle tremor made Jiang Shining and his sister's faces contort with
sadness.
When the three drops of blood had each travelled a full circle around the bell, they finally rolled
off the bell and onto the table.
With washed hands, Xuanmin retrieved a brush and wrote the Jiang parents' names onto a sheet of
yellow paper, which he folded into three and placed on top of the bell. Next, he lit the paper on
fire.
Then he brought out a stick of incense, which he lit using the flame from the burning paper. A
delicate, fragrant wisp of blue smoke emerged into the room. Those watching felt themselves
suddenly relax and feel profoundly peaceful. [e]
As the incense burned, no one in the room said a word, allowing Xuanmin to mumble his brief
prayer.
Ding––
The bell suddenly rang out, the tail end of the sound lingering tenderly, which made the Jiang
siblings flinch.
Ding––
And another...
"Is... is that Mom and Dad?" Jiang Shijing asked as her tears began to flow onto the table.
Xuanmin calmly replied, "They have been trapped in the bell for too long. They are no longer able
to show themselves to you, but they can use the sound of the bell to bid you farewell."
Libation, inscription, incineration, invocation. These are all a dead soul needs.
In a trance, the Jiang siblings stared at the bell. Although they could not see their parents' faces,
they nonetheless dared not even to blink...
In the corner, Xue Xian silently opened his eyes and gazed at the table. Because he could not nod,
he instead closed his eyes gently. Remembering the kindness with which the Jiangs had treated him
over ten years ago, he, too, bade farewell and thank you to the couple ––
The medicine you gave me worked very well, and the heater was very warm. Thank you. May your
journey be peaceful.
In the Xu family compound at Wen Village, the high-pitched song of a huadan role rang out among
the accompanying beat of a copper gong and leather drum. "Do not let the bright moon fall behind
the mountain curve / from now on..." [f]
That same play was performed year after year, from the beginning all those winters ago to the end,
today –– and yet, no one ever tired of it. The guests gathered in the Xu compound never stopped
loving hearing those words, and watching those characters.
Old friends, old home, old stage... It was as though these ten or so years had never passed, and
they had never become separated by the border between yin and yang.
Xu-da-shanren sat by a table and sipped his tea, watching the tragic drama on the stage. His finger
drummed lightly against the table as he hummed along to the tunes. After some time, he suddenly
said in a warm voice, "Renliang, great job..."
As the troupe leader, the scarred man himself did not perform –– he sat next to Xu-da-shanren by
the table. Hearing Xu-da-shanren's words, he was stunned, and watched as the old man smiled at
him. There was something behind the smile, as though... Xu-da-shanren had long known that the
village had ceased to be, and that his old friends were all also gone.
The scarred man collected his thoughts, then raised his untouched cup of tea and saluted Xu-dashanren. He took a sip. "Next year, perhaps... we won't be able to come."
His expression was as forlorn as Xu-da-shanren's. They looked at each other tenderly.
As they each finished their cups of tea, the two smiled at each other, as though they had finally
met against all odds and were now forced to part again.
You need to go, and so do I...
As the sky darkened, the thick fog that surrounded the village dissipated too. Along with it, the
melancholy sound of singing faded away as well, becoming ever dimmer and receding into the
distance.
Do not let the bright moon fall behind the mountain curve / from now on the moon will never set
/ and we won't turn old / we'll live every day of the next hundred years just as we'd lived this
night… [1]
As long as you're here to listen, we'll be here to sing for you. Our promise holds true, whether we
are living or dead.
Act IV: No Change
Chapter 56: Bone Threads (I)
The Fang household of today was composed of eleven or twelve members ––
The laoye and lao-furen had recently passed away, so now the heads of the household were Fang
Cheng and his wife Jiang Shijing.
Chen-shu was the steward, while Chen-sao was both the housekeeper and the cook. The two had
twin sons who stood behind the pharmacy counter and were responsible for serving customers and
doing the accounts, although every night it was Fang Cheng's job to look through the accounts
again.
Xingzi was an orphan who had been taken in by the late laoye. Ever since Jiang Shijing married into
the family, Xingzi had been her personal maid –– although, in the years that had passed, Xingzi had
learned much about medicine from her mistress, and could now be considered more of an assistant.
The rest of the servants helped with miscellaneous tasks, as well as cultivating and cooking
medicinal herbs. There were also some young people around who were apprentices from local
families.
But the servant boys weren't always there –– they sometimes had to travel for several days in order
to find certain herbs –– and the apprentices didn't come every day either, as their families were
usually poor and they spent much of their time helping their own parents.
This meant that, although the Fangs’ pharmacy was always very busy, the home itself was usually
quiet.
This evening was probably the rowdiest night the Fang compound had seen in many years. The
beggars that Fang Cheng and Jiang Shijing had brought home happily washed and cleaned
themselves, changing into fresh clothes that Chen-shu and Chen-sao had found for them. Although
these clothes were not brand-new, they were clean, and — most importantly — had no holes.
There was a good reason why the Fang and Jiang families had been so close in life –– it was not just
because they had coincidentally entered the same profession, but also because members of both
families loved! to! fuss!
Seeing the beggars' frostbitten knuckles, Chen-sao clucked and retrieved a series of portable
heaters, which she lit and put one by one into the beggars' hands, saying, "Here, hold this –– look at
how cold you are... Hey! Don't scratch! That's how it is when you freeze: when you start to warm
up, it gets itchy, but you mustn't scratch. Stay warm here, and I'll get you some medicine."
The beggars had not become homeless out of laziness, [a] but rather because starvation had struck
their families. Being disabled, they had been more vulnerable to the circumstances that led people
to end up sleeping on the streets. Even so, kidnapping was going too far. If these beggars were
ordinary people, it would have been considered kind simply not to press charges. Who knew that,
not only did the Fang family not press charges, they even welcomed the group as guests and agreed
to do what they'd been kidnapped to do –– the Fangs were truly generous.
Now that Chen-sao was fretting over them, the beggars felt remorseful and uneasy. The rudeness
they’d displayed back in the mountains dissipated and they became a row of stupid quails who
stammered, "Don't –– don't worry. W-we're used to the cold, so let it be."
And now that Chen-sao was back home where she was comfortable, she became far braver. She
glared at them and scolded, "Are you the ones hurt or am I the one hurt? Are you pharmacists or am
I a pharmacist? Hold the heaters and don't let go. I'll be right back."
The twin brothers, who happened to be passing by, heard their mother's irritated tone and suddenly
recalled the way they'd been scolded when they'd been younger. They shrunk their necks and tried
to sneak past, but could not escape their mother's eye. "Where are you two going?" she shouted at
them. "Are you being chased by a ghost? Come here."
Xiuping and Xiu-an awkwardly turned around and said in unison, "Mom, what is it? We've just closed
the store and were on our way to bring the account booklets to Fang-shaoye."
“How big are the account booklets? Do you need two people to bring them over?" Irritated, Chensao pointed at one of them and said, "Bring me a cask of wine, the strong kind, and some clean
rags."
"Strong wine? What do you need strong wine for? Has Dad pissed you off?" asked the brother she'd
pointed to –– the younger twin, Xiu-an. His honorable older brother had already run away with the
account booklets.
"Would your father dare?" Chen-sao replied. She pointed at the group of beggars standing around in
one of the wing-rooms. "Everyone here has frostbite. We need to warm them up."
As soon as he heard the word ‘frostbite’, Xiu-an's face turned green.
He had been extremely naughty as a child, and was constantly wrestling with his brother Xiuping.
On one particularly snowy day, the brothers had gone out to play in the snow, but had soon begun
to fight again, getting snow all over their faces and in their clothes. Then, in a burst of brute
strength, Xiu-an had fearlessly decided to bury his brother in the snow up to his neck. When they
came home, his fingers had been frozen red, and his mother had spanked him so that his behind
swelled enormously –– which had made Xiuping mock him for a month straight.
But a month later, something else happened, and the brothers no longer had anything to laugh
about. The brothers had spent all day playing in the snow, then had come back and plunged their
frozen fingers into hot water. The sudden change from cold to hot had caused frostbite to creep up
their fingers and feet, which had subsequently swollen as fat as carrots. It had been itchy and
painful, and they'd suffered enough for a lifetime.
Chen-sao had chopped ginger into tiny pieces and boiled it into a spicy liquid, which she'd mixed
with strong alcohol to soothe their wounds. Xiuping had been alright –– he'd only gotten swollen
knuckles –– but Xiu-an's wounds had split. The pain from the spice had made Xiu-an cry so hard that
he’d blown snot bubbles, and his brother mocked him for another month after that.
That experience had been harrowing, and Xiu-an would never forget it –– just the mention of the
alcohol treatment made him grimace with sympathy.
While Chen-sao's back was turned, Xiu-an waved at the beggars and mouthed, Pray for salvation.
The beggars: “...”
Qingping County winters were extremely cold, and it was not uncommon for people to get
frostbite. Some would figure it out by themselves at home, but others would come to the
pharmacy. After many years helping customers, Chen-sao was adept at treating frostbite. She
swiftly chopped up a bowl of ginger and ground it with a pestle and mortar until it began to leak
juice. Next, she poured the wine that Xiu-an brought her into the bowl and soaked the rags in the
liquid, then used the rags to wipe down the beggars' wounds.
"This is good. It's split open, so although it hurts now, it'll heal quicker later," Chen-sao consoled as
the beggars began to cry from the sting.
Thus the group of rough-looking beggars were swiftly made pliable and agreeable by Chen-sao. As
they each held up their ginger-soaked hands, their eyes spilling over with tears, they meekly asked
Chen-sao if there was anything she needed help with –– it was undignified of them to simply sit
there.
In the meantime, Fang Cheng and Jiang Shijing did not rest either –– in fact, only one room in the
entire compound remained calm, with not a single sound coming from it.
That was the room occupied by Xuanmin and Xue Xian.
Although the Fang compound was not small, it was still quite limited: the beggars had been given
two rooms, and those ill with plague had been quarantined in another room. Of the remaining
rooms, one had been given to Stone Zhang and Lu Nianqi, as well as Jiang Shining, who did not
need to sleep; so the two zuzongs had to share the final room.
It wasn't as if they hadn't had to make do before, and neither of the two really needed to sleep, so
they did not mind.
Of course... Xue Xian, still under the talisman's spell, had originally wanted to complain, but then
something inside him had told him not to.
Perhaps all the times Xuanmin had restricted him really had had some impact, and he'd become
used to it –– it was as though, if Xue Xian now went a day without being bossed around by someone,
he would feel weird...
After having saved the souls of Jiang Shining's parents in the evening, Xuanmin had shut the doors
to the room and sat down by the bed.
Ever since they’d met, Xue Xian had never actually seen Xuanmin lie down to sleep –– at night, if he
wasn't meditating, he would be sitting with his legs crossed, constantly keeping up that utterly
indomitable manner and giving off an intimidating and unapproachable aura.
But Xue Xian himself was in the middle of healing using the power of the copper coin pendant, and
could not be bothered to provoke Xuanmin either. So the entire room settled into a profound
silence, and no one in the Fang family dared disturb them.
When it had been dinnertime, Jiang Shijing and Fang Cheng had come to invite them, and when no
one had answered their knock, they'd worried that something bad had happened to the two. But
Jiang Shining had transformed into a paper man and stuck his head through a crack in the door to
look around, then had come back to his sister and said, "Let's not knock for now. If they're hungry,
they'll let us know."
He did not understand precisely what Xue Xian and Xuanmin were getting up to, but it looked
meaningful and he did not think they wanted to be interrupted. Besides, the two zuzongs were
inherently different from normal people, and did not mind missing a meal here and there.
The Fang family did not know Xue Xian and Xuanmin well –– they only knew that the two were
masters of some kind, and that masters always came with certain eccentricities. In order not to
offend, they had simply agreed to what Jiang Shining had suggested.
Normally, the Fang family went to sleep before wu shi, but today, with all the visitors, they only
settled down around hai shi. One by one, the lanterns in each room were blown out, and the
whispers slowly faded away to silence, so that a sense of peace finally fell upon the compound.
When Xue Xian finally opened his eyes again, the san geng had already struck, and those in the
compound were fast asleep, snoring lightly. The oil in the lantern was half gone, and the core of
the flame had not been refreshed for a while, so that the light was slowly waning like a sunset.
But the reason that Xue Xian opened his eyes was not because of the snoring nor the lantern –– it
was because the talisman stuck to his forehead had begun to feel hot.
Because he was busy digesting a dragon bone, Xue Xian was already feeling quite flushed, but now
the talisman on his head was getting even hotter than he was –– to the point where it really began
to bother him. He hissed with pain and frowned over at Xuanmin, gently saying, "Bald donkey?"
Xuanmin did not respond.
"Bald donkey? Can you take off the talisman now? I'm not going to do anything in the middle of the
night," Xue Xian said, gritting his teeth against the searing heat of the talisman.
Still no response.
"Bald donkey?" Now Xue Xian felt that something must be amiss. He called out again, then switched
it up and said, "Xuanmin! Stop pretending to be dead. I know you're not actually sleeping."
In the dim glow of the lantern, he stared intently at the person sitting by the bed and waited –– but
Xuanmin still did not move.
"Are you o––" Before Xue Xian could finish, he suddenly felt the burning hot talisman on his forehead
loosen. It gently floated off his face and onto the floor.
Now that the talisman had fallen off, Xue Xian could move again. He immediately rolled his
wheelchair to the bed and hesitantly prodded Xuanmin’s hand, which rested on his knee.
But as soon as he touched Xuanmin, he was startled by a feeling of extreme heat.
Right –– that talisman was Xuanmin's, so any strange behavior had to be caused by Xuanmin himself.
"Hey, bald donkey?" Xue Xian reached out to feel Xuanmin's pulse and found that the pulse was
rapid and strong, giving him a sense of anxiety.
Was there another issue with the mole?
Although Xue Xian had only seen a few of Xuanmin's episodes, [b] he automatically went to check
the neck while keeping his hand on Xuanmin’s wrist. But because of the dimness of the light, it was
hard to see anything at all. Xue Xian had no choice but to shuffle closer.
There didn't seem to be any blood vessels coming out of the mole this time, but Xue Xian began to
feel even more unsettled —
Because Xuanmin’s body temperature was so high that, as Xue Xian got closer, the steaming heat
from the crook of Xuanmin's neck poured itself onto Xue Xian. The wave of heat brought with it the
slight moisture of sweat, making the already overheating Xue Xian feel even hotter. The heat going
straight to his head; he suddenly felt dazed.
Somehow, as he struggled to focus his vision, Xue Xian’s gaze moved from the mole on Xuanmin's
neck to the side of Xuanmin's face.
Maybe it was the disorienting heat that made him feel lethargic, but Xue Xian's vision was still
blurry, so that he wasn't sure if he was looking at Xuanmin's brow, or the bridge of his nose, or...
Indeed, high priests were on another level –– despite the sweltering heat emanating from Xuanmin,
his face betrayed no hint of discomfort.
Xuanmin looked exactly the same as he'd looked earlier in the evening, when he'd first shut his
eyes. If Xue Xian hadn't felt his quickened pulse, and if he couldn't feel the scorching heat coming
out of his body, he might really have been fooled by Xuanmin's serene manner.
And now — perhaps because he'd been affected by the heat surging from Xue Xian’s body, or
perhaps it was something else — Xuanmin's pulse was getting faster and stronger. The warmth in
the crook of his neck was becoming increasingly hot. Xue Xian idly watched Xuanmin serene, shut
eyelids; for some reason, Xue Xian didn’t want to move away from him at all.
Just as Xue Xian's brain was about to become entirely clouded over by the unbearable heat, the
hand that he had placed on Xuanmin's wrist to feel his pulse accidentally twitched.
Xuanmin's disturbingly violent pulse suddenly jolted, and as his eyelids fluttered open, he locked
eyes with Xue Xian.
In that moment, they leant so close to each other that their inhales and exhales seemed to
intersect. It gave the incorrect impression that what was happening here was incredibly intimate…
Chapter 57: Bone Threads (II)
Xuanmin's half-open eyes seemed to merge with the dim light of the lantern, so that it was
impossible to tell exactly where his gaze fell –– if it was on Xue Xian's own panicked eyes, or the tip
of Xue Xian’s nose beaded with sweat, or lower...
A massive, invisible screen seemed to come down between the two of them. It made all other
noises in the world appear faint and faraway, leaving only the entwined sounds of their breathing;
inhale, exhale... Their breathing filled the room, so that suddenly the room and everything in it
seemed to become narrow and cramped, too small for either of them to make any movement at all.
Immediately, Xuanmin’s wrist — the one that Xue Xian had been holding — moved. Xuanmin flipped
his hand over and grabbed Xue Xian's fingers in return; he bluntly twisted them around, so that
Xuanmin's hand was now clamped tightly over Xue Xian's. Perhaps it was because the strange heat
in Xuanmin’s body had affected him, causing him an inability to control his strength, but his grip on
Xue Xian's hand felt extraordinarily tight.
Xue Xian's mind finally cleared a little. He realised that Xuanmin's sweat was not only coming from
the crook of his neck, but was all over his body. Xuanmin’s hands were damp with sweat too, and in
the instant that he grabbed onto Xue Xian's hand, his fingers slipped between Xue Xian's fingers;
when he tightened his grip, the skin of their fingers could not help but rub up against each other...
Now the feeling was more than intimate –– it could be called affectionate, or even devoted. [a]
As Xuanmin drowsily closed his eyes then opened them again, a bead of sweat happened to roll
down his face and off his chin. It fell onto the tip of Xue Xian's chin below, then streamed down Xue
Xian’s neck and disappeared into his collar.
Suddenly, Xue Xian's breathing grew heavier, and a flash of alertness crossed his mind.
In the streets outside the compound, a cat yowled, its cry echoing across the night and sounding
unusually close, as though it were right there in the room, beside the bed.
The cat's yowl was enough to thoroughly awaken Xuanmin. He brusquely took his hand away and
shut his eyes once more.
Xue Xian's eyelid twitched as he, too, automatically retracted his hand and sat up stiff as a board.
As Xue Xian wheeled his chair away, putting some distance between them, he saw that Xuanmin
was sitting in his original position again: his eyes still closed, his face still set, and the hand that
had grasped Xue Xian's so tightly was now relaxed and resting, again, on his knee.
After some time, Xuanmin opened his eyes again. He looked calmly at Xue Xian and said, "Sit
farther away."
His tone was as neutral as ever, but something in his voice was slightly lower than usual, with a
slight hoarseness.
Xue Xian had already moved away a little; now, the overwhelmingly strong heartbeat that he'd
previously managed to repress seemed to suddenly burst forth again. His heart began to thump
hysterically, as though about to explode, the pulse as loud and clear in his ear as the beat of a
drum. The manic ba-dump, ba-dump of his heart filled his ear, so he had not heard what Xuanmin
had just said in that low voice of his.
"Mn?" Xue Xian asked.
He had not yet recovered from that strange feeling of intimacy they’d just experienced –– his
response came in a slight nasal tone, so that he sounded both tender and lazy.
Xuanmin fell silent for a while, then mildly said, "Nothing."
Finally, Xue Xian's pulse slowed to normal, and he breathed a sigh of relief. But his right hand,
which had been gripped by Xuanmin so hard that it now rang with numbness, was a reminder of all
that had just occurred. As Xue Xian flexed the fingers of that hand, he silently wheeled his chair to
the table and turned his back to Xuanmin, refreshing the lantern to distract himself from that
strange, overwhelming feeling inside him.
As he fiddled with the core of the lantern, the tiny flame bloomed and the room suddenly became
far brighter. Xue Xian turned his chair back around and used the new light to steal a glimpse of
Xuanmin ––
The thin white robe on Xuanmin’s body was soaked through with sweat, the cloth sketching a
contour of the muscles in his shoulders and arms... After the strangeness from earlier, even though
Xue Xian felt that he had calmed down now, this new view of Xuanmin did not make him feel much
better.
Seeing Xuanmin drenched in sweat, and recalling the extreme heat emanating from his body
before, Xue Xian summoned a dredge of sympathy for once and said, "Shall I go get you some
water, to help you freshen up?"
Knowing that Xuanmin hated to have even a speck of dirt on him, Xue Xian figured the monk must
be deeply uncomfortable with all that sweat. That was the only thing that Xue Xian had considered,
and he'd forgotten other details –– such as the fact that, to wash, one needed to take off one's
clothes, and Xuanmin wasn't the only person in the room...
As soon as Xue Xian uttered his question, this fact occurred to him, and he wished he could take
the words back.
Xuanmin continued to sit there, contemplating Xue Xian's question. He opened his eyes, looked at
Xue Xian, then shut them again and said, "No. I only need you to sit a bit farther away."
"…You’re that annoyed with me?" Xue Xian retorted. "If I go even farther, I'll be out of the room."
Xuanmin kept his eyes shut. It was only when Xue Xian wheeled back into that 'special healing
corner' that Xuanmin slowly said, "No."
Just No. Who knew what the hell he meant by that.
The place where Xue Xian now sat was to the side of the bed. From his point of view, he could only
see Xuanmin's profile, and most of his vision was blocked by the bedposts. But this actually helped
to dissipate some of the awkwardness from before, so that Xue Xian finally felt himself truly begin
to relax.
And the reason why it was awkward was because... Just then, at that moment, Xue Xian had felt
his body… react. Of course, as soon as he’d noticed himself stir, [b] he’d put a stop to it. But…
He wondered whether Xuanmin had been in a similar situation.
Xue Xian settled comfortably into his chair, leaning his arm against the armrest and propping up his
head against his hand. His other hand fiddled absent-mindedly with the copper coin pendant, his
thumbs unconsciously drawing contours around one of the coins. His idle gaze landed at turns on
the quivering flame in the lantern and on Xuanmin’s form.
Based on all that sweat on Xuanmin's body just now, if Xuanmin had really had a reaction too, then
surely that reaction would be visible? But Xuanmin was so reserved and detached that it was
impossible to think of him having anything to do with certain worldly affairs. Besides, Xuanmin was
still sitting cross-legged, with his monk's robes draped across his knees, so it was hard to see
anything there.
What in the world was going on? How did it come to this?
The night was uncannily peaceful, and time seemed to creep by abnormally slowly. With nothing
else to do, Xue Xian sat deep in thought for a while, then suddenly remembered the wound on
Xuanmin's hand that he'd licked, and what Jiang Shining had tried to tell him before Xuanmin had
stopped him.
Xue Xian: “...”
Xue Xian finally understood why Jiang Shining had told him not to mess with dragon spit. But the
warning had come too late.
He laughed bitterly to himself and straightened up again. This way, he looked more serious, and
less like an instigator. He stopped staring at Xuanmin, too, instead guiltily closing his eyes and
focusing on healing once more.
This night of healing was definitely different from all the other times he'd healed before –– perhaps
it was the new bone that Xue Xian had absorbed, or perhaps it was because two of the seals on the
coin pendant had now been broken.
Before, Xue Xian was only able to feel a sense of swelling heat in the places where his muscles
were mending themselves, or the turgidity of his growing bones –– it was as though his bones were
trying to push themselves out of his body. But now, he could clearly feel the precise location of the
swelling, as well as exactly where the bone he'd absorbed was growing. He could tell that all of the
spiritual energy was gathered in the parts of his body that were injured: beginning from the broken
and missing bones, the energy extended outwards, as though constructing a ghost of his past
skeleton, with thin filaments spreading across his body.
The threads of energy seemed almost alive: as Xue Xian's spiritual power strengthened and
deepened, the threads seemed to slowly grow longer too –– but the process took a lot of effort.
Even after healing all night, Xue Xian was only able to grow half of the threads in his body, and now
he was as exhausted, as if he'd been working at it for half a month.
In the morning, the sky lightened and the members of the Fang household began to step out of
their rooms. But Xue Xian had already roused Jiang Shining –– who never slept –– and was planning
to make Jiang Shining go find him something to eat.
"A-Ning, Xue... gongzi, what are you two doing?" Jiang Shijing asked. She had already washed her
face and was about to bring some medicine to the three plague-ridden beggars when she came
across the pair headed for the back door and waved them down.
"We're going to Huicui Hall," Jiang Shining said. He was familiar with the famous restaurants around
Qingping and could at least show Xue Xian the way.
"Huicui Hall?" Jiang Shijing repeated, confused. "Why would you go there in the morning? Chen-sao
is already preparing breakfast."
Jiang Shining wrung his hands. "This zuzong is very picky. He doesn't care about the difference
between breakfast and dinner. He only eats meat, and there has to be a lot of it."
"At this hour, even if you go to Huicui Hall now and order meat dishes, you still have to wait a while
for them to prepare it," Jiang Shijing said. If it weren’t for Xue Xian and Xuanmin, Jiang Shijing and
her husband would probably still be sitting around in Wen Village, or even dead by now. So the
entire Fang family held a sense of reverence and gratitude toward the two –– even calling Xue Xian
by the basic honorific ‘gongzi’ felt awfully impolite, let alone letting him go hungry.
As Jiang Shijing spoke, Chen-sao happened to come out of the kitchen, and the two exchanged
glances. Chen-sao clapped and said, "Chen-sao knows how to make all the specialty dishes at Huicui
Hall. Xue-shaoye, tell me which dishes you'd like to try, and I should be able to lay out a whole
table for you in no time."
Jiang Shining began to nod too. "We can get Xingzi to help Chen-sao. You missed dinner last night,
so you must be ravenous now."
As a guest in someone's home, naturally Xue Xian was not about to order an entire banquet.
Smoothly, he said, "Well then, thank you very much. It doesn't matter what you make, just do
whatever you'd like. I don't mind as long as there's meat." As long as you don’t make me eat grass.
But...
Xue Xian looked around, then said to Jiang Shijing and Chen-sao, "Could I bother you for some hot
water? The bald... Xuanmin was feverish last night and sweated through his clothes. He needs to
wash."
"Feverish?" As soon as Jiang Shijing and Chen-sao heard this, their doctor modes kicked in. In
unison, they demanded, "Are there other symptoms? Headache? Nausea?"
Other symptoms...
Drily, Xue Xian replied, "No, based on his physicality I don't think he's the type to catch cold. He
was meditating last night. He’s probably just qi deviating or something." [c]
The Jiang siblings: “...” Qi deviation sounds far more serious than a cold, zuzong!
But remembering that masters were always eccentric, and not feeling comfortable asking for more
information, the Jiang siblings simply nodded and went off to fetch hot water.
Whenever Xue Xian thought about last night, he felt awkward. He was trying to spend as little time
as possible inside the room. So he spent the morning following Jiang Shining around aimlessly, then
followed Chen-sao around until she asked him politely to leave the kitchen –– at which point he
sullenly wheeled himself back to the guest hall table to wait for breakfast.
Jiang Shining had gotten excited as soon as he'd seen those familiar rows of medicinal herbs, so had
gone off to help his sister prepare medication. The only ones left in the hall were Fang Cheng, who
was checking over the accounts, and Xue Xian himself.
Xue Xian thought for a while, then decided to speak. "Respectfully, may I ask you a question?" he
said to Fang Cheng.
Fang Cheng's hand stopped writing and he said, "Of course, of course. Ask away, and I'll tell you
everything I might possibly know."
"Have you heard of dragon spit?" Unlike Jiang Shining, Fang Cheng did not know that Xue Xian was a
dragon, so Xue Xian did not feel as embarrassed to ask him. "What effects does it have? Could it
harm a human?"
"..." Fang Cheng gave him a confused look. "I have naturally heard of it, but I've never seen it. So in
terms of effects... I only know the rumors."
"What do the rumors say?"
"Just that... if a girl comes across dragon spit... then she will… become pregnant." Fang Cheng was
clearly not a natural storyteller –– that one awkward sentence seemed to be the full extent of his
explanation.
Xue Xian: “...”
What?
Fang Cheng spoke again. "The rumors are always about how, in a certain place, a certain someone
was fortunate enough to obtain some. They either sold it for an insane price or gave it to someone
to take. The rumors say that apart from being able to heal wounds and illnesses very quickly, and
to serve as an antidote for hundreds of poisons, dragon spit has other uses as well. They say that it
can increase yin and hasten yang... Well, it's an aphrodisiac. And they say that its effect is quite
long-term. But that's all just rumor, of course. If there really were a type of medicine that could
heal everything and repel all poison, then just seeing it once in my lifetime would make my life
worth it.”
Fang Cheng had spent all his life as a pharmacist, so when it came to talking about medicine, he
did so very seriously and did not come across as inappropriate at all. But...
Although Xue Xian had roughly guessed the meaning of dragon spit last night, it was vastly different
from hearing someone say it out loud.
To the point where he immediately wheeled himself into the courtyard to find Jiang Shining and
said, "Let’s make a deal. Can we switch rooms tonight?"
“…No,” Jiang Shining said. “Just one night in the same room as dashi will send me straight to the
afterlife. Didn't you agree to let me stay a few more days and spend my sister's birthday with her?"
Xue Xian said, "Alright, then we won't switch. But let me into your room. It’s not like I’ll take up
bed space."
Jiang Shining laughed drily. "You’ll make Stone Zhang wet the bed. And how do you think Nianqi
will react to that?”
Xue Xian: “...”
"Did you piss off dashi again?" Jiang Shining got the feeling that he had become everyone's mother,
and wasn't even getting paid for it –– all this fretting was taking years off his life. Oh wait, he no
longer had any years in his life.
With a blank expression, Xue Xian pinched his fingers together, leaving a small space between
them. "Just a little bit," he replied.
Jiang Shining thought, He must've gotten into huge trouble. It's definitely not 'a little bit.'
As the two spoke, the back door to the courtyard was pushed open and two youths dressed in
pharmacist uniforms came in with baskets of herbs. Seeing Jiang Shining, they froze, then greeted
Chen-sao as she emerged from the kitchen with a steaming plate. "Good morning, Chen-sao. What
you're making smells delicious, you're making us both hungry. Where're shaoye and shao-furen?”
"Shaoye and shao-furen are both busy. Put the baskets away and wash your hands, we'll be eating
soon," Chen-sao replied.
These youths were the Fang family’s servant boys. As they arranged the herbs they’d collected,
they said to Chen-sao, "Ugh. We were supposed to get back last evening, but we came across a
carriage train on the way, and they made us clear the road. That's why we were delayed by a
night.”
"Carriage train? What carriage train?"
"The authorities." Now that the youths had begun to talk about it in more detail, their tones
became mysterious. "You know how we reported the plague in the county to the higher-ups? The
imperial court sent ceremonial exorcists to expel the plague. [d] They must be in the city by now.
Guess who they sent?"
"Ceremonial exorcists?" Chen-sao repeated, stunned. "Then it must be..."
The servant [e] waved his hand. "They say that the officials that the emperor sent report directly to
the Guoshi. There are so many types of officials that I can't remember what they're all called, but
basically, these are the ones whose job it is to follow the Guoshi around every day. They’re
probably some of the only people that have actually seen the Guoshi’s face.”
Chapter 58: Bone Threads (III)
A long train of horse-drawn carriages trotted along the main road of Qingping County. The men
manning the carriage were dressed peculiarly, in a way that was not at all commonly seen in this
area. Their robes were wide with large sleeves, and a fierce beast's head was embroidered on the
front and back of each robe: this was not abnormal. What was odd was that their robes were
entirely white, and billowed gently with the movement of the horses so that the men looked like
they were wearing clouds, creating a beautiful mixture between aggression and elegance.
If one looked purely at the clothes, it was impossible to tell the ages of the people on horseback.
They seemed to have gone through many years of physical training to make their mannerisms
restrained and stiff. And as for their faces... each of them wore an odd mask in the shape of a
beast's face, and it was impossible to see what they looked like.
There were dozens of people in the carriage train, perhaps a hundred. They formed two rows of
horses, with a row of three carriages in between, the windows of which were sealed shut. Each
carriage bore two flags on its side –– a total of six –– which all depicted the same complex design
against an ink-black field. At first, the design was impossible to make out, and it was only under
sunlight that contours could begin to emerge: on top of that black field were two large characters
intricately calligraphed so as to be reminiscent of curled dragons or twisted snakes –– Taichang, the
Minister of Ceremonies. [a]
In previous dynasties, the Taichang’s role involved all the ghosts and gods in heaven and on earth,
with the task of maintaining overall balance between yin and yang. Within the Taichang Si, [b] the
Taichang was assisted by deputy ministers. [c] But ever since the Guoshi had taken over the
Taichang Si, the deputies' roles had become greatly limited, and even the Taichang himself had
become the Guoshi's lieutenant. And since the Guoshi was extremely old –– no one knew how old he
truly was –– he had, in his career, been served by a number of lieutenants.
Not only was it rumored that, every few years, the Guoshi would take in one or two children with
innate Buddhist wisdom as disciples, but there was also a rumor that he would choose a number of
highly intelligent small boys and girls to be educated within the Taichang Si. Once these boys and
girls turned ten years old, they would officially become Zhenzi, [d] with the job of facilitating and
executing rituals. Zhenzi could not be older than sixteen years old. Once they exceeded sixteen, a
number of them would be transferred to other roles within the Taichang Si.
This meant that, particularly within the last two generations, the entirety of the Taichang Si ––
from the Taichang himself and his Deputy Ministers, to the Taizhu and Taibu [e] and right down to
the Zhenzi and more –– were all intimately close to the Guoshi. The origins of these officials were
unknown. It was suspected that they were all his disciples.
As the Taichang Si’s carriage train reached a fork in the road, they split into two groups, with two
dozen men diverting into Qingping Xian Cheng along with one of the carriages: this was the team
that had been ordered to exorcise the plague. The second group, consisting of around a hundred
and twenty people, took a winding mountain road. The two riders at the front of this group wore
gleaming, shiny copper coin pendants on their hips, and also carried tasselled jade tiles.
The carvings on the jade tiles were different for each of the two riders: the one on the left had a
tortoise, on which stood a bird with long plumes. Both animals were parenthesised between two
curled characters –– Taibu. And the right hand side person’s tile had the long face of a beast, above
whose head hung a small eight-sided bell. Those carvings were also parenthesised by two
characters –– Taizhu.
The Taibu and Taizhu both worked within the Taichang Si. The Taibu was responsible for divination
and navigating yin and yang, while the Taizhu performed sacrifices and rituals.
As the carriage train exited the mountain path, the leading rider carrying the Taibu tile made a
hand gesture, and the entire train obediently came to a stop.
The Taizhu turned to face him, eyes full of puzzlement gleaming from behind the mask, and asked,
"What is it?"
The tone was profound and serious, but the voice itself was rather young: the Taizhu sounded like a
young man only a little over twenty years of age.
"Let me confirm the direction again," the Taibu said. This voice was that of a woman, equally
young, and contained some nimbleness within that outer layer of warmth and brightness.
As she spoke, the Taibu took off the beast mask that she wore, revealing a pleasant face. Her
appearance made her look even younger than her voice suggested, perhaps only seventeen or
eighteen. Thankfully, she had elegant brows and a pair of eyes as deep as lakes, which helped to
ground her aura and make her seem calm and stable.
The position of Taibu was a unique one: whether one was practicing divination or interpreting
dreams, it all had to do with innate talent. To become a Taibu, one only had to be a highly skilled
and fortunate person –– it did not matter whether one was male or female. Because women
happened to be more sensitive to spirituality, recent generations of Taibu had included a number
of women.
The Taizhu nodded in agreement and said, "True. After all, this is about great disasters. If we get it
wrong, we'll surely be punished when we return to the capital." As he spoke, he anxiously pointed
his finger upwards and added, "That person won't be happy."
The Taibu glanced at him, then peered up at the layers of clouds in the sky. "The Guoshi has always
been just and fair. His punishments are insightful and never arbitrary. We do not have to worry
about whether he is happy or not. Besides, we won't be able to see him at all when we return.
You're overthinking it..."
“Hey, lady, [f] I was just saying. Can you stop being so serious?" the Taizhu snapped.
"I cannot."
The Taibu spoke nonchalantly while simultaneously reaching into her pocket. She extracted a grass
knot, a tortoise shell, and a bamboo-scented sheet of paper. She carefully unfolded the paper, on
which the first few rows of writing were dry and faint –– they had clearly been written some time
ago. There were very few words, and the content was straightforward and direct. In place of the
sender’s signature, [g] there was a red stamp with two simple characters: Tongdeng.
The Taibu confirmed the location written on the paper, then carefully folded it back up again.
Next, she arranged the grass knot and the tortoise shell in her palm and said, "Be discreet in word
and deed, and especially do not speak ill of the Guoshi in my presence. Or else I may become
angry."
The Taizhu shook his head, exasperated. "There you go accusing me of all kinds of nonsense again. I
would never dare to speak ill."
Although it was commonly known that the officials within the Taichang Si were of mysterious
origins, there were still some distinctions.
Take as example these two riders at the front –– ten years ago, they had both been recruited by the
Guoshi to be educated at the Taichang. They had slowly grown up and climbed the ranks from
Zhenzi to Changshi [h] to their positions today. Although the two of them had almost the same
experiences and were of the same age, the Taizhu feared the Guoshi more than he respected him ––
and the Taibu respected the Guoshi more than she feared him... Far more.
The Taibu focused on her divination and ignored the Taizhu.
After some time, the Taibu glanced at the grass knot in her hand then looked at the horizon. "Yi,"
she muttered.
"Yi what? Are we lost?" the Taizhu demanded.
The Taibu gently furrowed her elegant brows and fell deep in thought. Finally, she muttered, "I
divined... But it shouldn't be."
"You're [i] always speaking in bits and pieces. Say it properly. What did you divine?" The Taizhu
followed her gaze and looked at the horizon too, but apart from dark clouds, he saw nothing. Then
he stared at the grass knot in her hand, and apart from the fact that the knot looked rather worn,
he saw nothing peculiar, either.
"Nothing. I just divined that someone is in Qingping County who really shouldn't be. But it's
impossible..." the Taibu explained, then shook her head. "Never mind. In any case, it was only an
approximation. I must be mistaken. But we have serious matters to deal with. I've confirmed the
location: we keep going down this path toward the southwest."
"Where do we rest tonight?"
The Taibu glanced at the Taizhu again and said, "See that mountain that looks like a dustpan? That's
where we're headed."
The Taizhu raised his fist to send a signal to the rest of the train and kicked his stirrups. "Let's go."
Meanwhile, in the Fang family compound, the group was discussing something entirely different...
Their discussion had been provoked by Jiang Shining going in to treat the three plague-ridden
beggars. As he saw that their fevers were receding, he also noticed that one of the child beggars
who looked like a skinny monkey was actually a little girl.
"Now this is unfortunate..." Jiang Shining raised his hand to gesture at the left side of his face and
said, "The other two's rashes all stop at their necks, but that little girl has a huge patch on her
face. The rashes don't just bleed –– they're going to get gangrenous. We have to clean away the
already rotten flesh, and when she recovers, that girl's [i] face..."
The group already knew about the disgusting rashes, and had seen how frail the little girl looked.
Naturally, they could imagine the immense scar that would ravage the girl's face after she healed ––
half her face would be ruined. The child was still so young. If her appearance was ruined now, her
future wouldn’t look good.
Fussing really ran in the Jiang family. Although the beggar was a complete stranger, Jiang Shijing
became extremely worried for this little girl. [i]
Xue Xian had happened to be passing by in his wheelchair, but, upon hearing Jiang Shining's words,
he stopped.
The only thing that determined whether Xue Xian was interested in doing something was his mood.
Chen-sao was a real talent, and the feast that she'd laid out for him that morning had been
excellent. Once he’d eaten his fill, Xue Xian was in a good mood. He could even forget some of the
things that were burdening him, to the point where he hadn’t even noticed when Xuanmin had left
their room and begun walking towards the group.
Xue Xian hated to eat and drink for free, but to give the Fangs golden pearls would be to treat the
Fang home as an inn. Just as he'd been pondering how to repay his debt to the Fangs, he'd heard
Jiang Shijing fret, and had had an idea.
"I have a solution for the little girl's
[i] face,"
Xue Xian said casually.
Stunned, Jiang Shijing and the others turned to him. "What solution?"
If Xue Xian could make a paper body for Jiang Shining’s immaterial soul, then of course he could
help make a new prosthetic for the little girl's face. [i] However...
"I can't just create flesh out of nowhere. There needs to be some form of exchange with another
material object," Xue Xian explained.
Jiang Shijing was not stupid, and Jiang Shining had experienced it all before so could offer advice.
The group quickly debated the issue: "Some form of exchange... to go on someone's face... Hey!
How about a mask?"
Stone Zhang, who was still eating his breakfast, eagerly raised his hand. "I can help! I can carve her
a beautiful, extravagant mask!"
Oh, fuck off!
Xue Xian glared at Stone Zhang. "Not even eating will shut you up, it seems. Have you ever seen
someone with a face carved full of designs?"
Silently, Stone Zhang went back to eating.
"I mean yirong masks," [j] Jiang Shining explained, chuckling. "The kind that you can use to entirely
replace your face. But a mask is still just a mask, so we still need you for the final step..."
He glanced at Xue Xian.
Xue Xian nodded. "That's also what I mean."
"But..." Jiang Shijing asked awkwardly. "Who could make one?"
Stone Zhang hurriedly put his bowl back down again. "I can."
"Really? But aren't you a stonemason?" Xue Xian asked skeptically.
"Many such skills are transferable," Stone Zhang said, waving a hand. "I've seen others make them
before. Plus, I'm extremely nimble-fingered. I'm sure I can make an adequate one."
It was rather creepy to see a stout, balding little man speak of his own nimble fingers so
proudly. [k] But indeed, no one else at the table was as nimble as he, and none had observed the
making of a yirong mask. So the task fell to him.
Stone Zhang did not delay: he immediately listed the materials that he needed, and then went to
thoroughly wash his hands.
In the meantime, the others did not sit by idly either. Ever since he'd woken up in the morning, Lu
Nianqi had tucked himself away in a corner of the courtyard, holding the black cloth that had been
used to blindfold Stone Zhang in one hand and using the bundle of sticks in his other hand to trace
markings across the floor. After he finished his spell, he would study the markings and then wipe it
away and start over...
Stone Zhang had not asked for a lot of materials, and fortunately Fang Cheng's compound was full
of raw materials, especially those relating to medicine. Everything except for the most unique
ingredient was gathered and prepared quickly.
"What else do we need?" Jiang Shijing asked.
Stone Zhang cleared his throat and mumbled, "X glue."
"What glue?" Xue Xian suddenly turned around.
With a face full of resignation, Stone Zhang glumly repeated, "Dragon glue."
“...” Xue Xian asked, "What in the world is dragon glue? I’ve never heard of it."
"It's glue made out of dragon skin." Stone Zhang felt that he was signing his death seal with those
words. He wished he could slap his own mouth off. You volunteered for a task, and look at you
now. You're getting yourself killed.
Xue Xian's expression turned dark. "What the fuck? Who is making glue out of dragon skin? Drag him
out there and show him to me!"
"It's not... that's... that's just what it's called," Stone Zhang quickly explained. "You know how
whenever there's some strange new item, people come up with mysterious, powerful names for it.
They like to name things after dragons but it usually has nothing to do with them. That glue comes
from western merchants. It’s made of animal skin..."
But Xue Xian was still furious. He hated hearing about dragon skin, dragon bones, and other such
things. He slapped the table and shouted, "Why do you need some mysterious glue? Go get some pig
skin and make your own!"
"Alrighty," Stone Zhang said. He did not object to the zuzong’s orders.
Just as Xue Xian finished roaring with rage, he turned to see Xuanmin behind him. Their eyes met
for a brief moment, and then Xue Xian swiftly wheeled his chair away, making his escape as quickly
as he could.
Xuanmin: “...”
Actually, pig glue was perfectly adequate –– they just needed to be careful about taking it out of
the boiling pot, as doing so too early or too late would ruin it.
Stone Zhang, having stood guard by the pot for some time, decided that it had been long enough.
Just as he made to turn off the heat, a hand shot out to stop him.
He only needed to see that snow-white sleeve to know who it was. He filled his voice with respect
and deferentially said, "Dashi."
Xuanmin did not waste his words. He glanced at the pot and said, "Let it boil a bit longer."
Stone Zhang was stunned. "Dashi, you know how to make these masks too?"
Chapter 59: Bone Threads (IV)
But as soon as the words came out of his mouth, Stone Zhang regretted them. He saw Xuanmin’s
brows furrow slightly as he faltered.
Stone Zhang: “...” It was just a casual question. You don't need to think that hard, dashi...
He slowly turned his head and exchanged glances with Jiang Shining, who stood by the stove as
well. Stone Zhang mouthed, What do I do? I'm freaking out.
Jiang Shining shrugged. You brought this upon yourself.
When Stone Zhang turned back to the stove, Xuanmin had taken his hand away and was frowning
contemplatively at the boiling glue in the pot. Xuanmin’s pristine white robes contrasted
dramatically with the steam and grease of the kitchen stove: even the stove’s flame seemed to
retreat from him with timidness.
Stone Zhang couldn't begin to understand what Xuanmin was pondering, but from the look on his
face, it did not seem to be something happy. So Stone Zhang did not dare to disturb Xuanmin by
gently asking him to leave the kitchen. All he and Jiang Shining could do was stare and wait.
Fortunately, although Xuanmin was socially inept, he was still miles above people like Xue Xian,
who made trouble on purpose. As the glue in the pot began to gurgle, Xuanmin seemed to come
back to his senses. He took one last look at the pot and said, "The heat is too weak."
Then he strode out of the kitchen, without even a glance back at Stone Zhang and Jiang Shining
inside.
The snow-white robe swept past the door frame as Xuanmin vanished without a trace.
Stone Zhang let go of the breath he’d been holding. "I can breathe again! I'm too old for frights like
these. I thought my heart was going to jump out of my chest..."
Jiang Shining sighed too. Wordlessly, he began to add dry hay into the belly of the stove.
"But dashi really is powerful. How does he know everything?" Stone Zhang added, mystified. "Like
this thing––"
He pursed his lips in the direction of the pot, and continued: "Like this mask. No one in our area
works on these. One time, a patron brought me to Liangzhou, and that's how I got to know about
the process. That city is close to a strategic mountain pass, [a] and is a dangerous place to live. In
order to protect themselves, some people pick up some skills here and there. This kind of thing
looks simple, but you need to have a wealth of experience under your belt. And if I may... Dashi is
awfully young. Even though he's powerful, at this age, there's still only a limited amount of things
he could have seen and places he could have been. How much experience could he possibly have?"
In reality, even Jiang Shining sometimes had his doubts –– he always got the feeling that the
knowledge and stability that Xuanmin demonstrated far exceeded the wisdom of his years...
As a middle-aged man, Stone Zhang had few hobbies, but gossiping and speculating about people
was definitely one of his favorites –– and he was very good at it too. He peered out into the
courtyard and lowered his voice. "And look at the zuzong named Xue... When he's with dashi,
sometimes it seems like he's the secondary one. Today, I got the feeling that he was following dashi
around. Think about it. A twenty-something guy, taming a dragon? That's a real live dragon –– he
must be a million years old!"
That mouth really would not stop talking –– Stone Zhang was like a plucked sparrow with eight extra
mouths attached to it. He couldn't help but add, "Oh, right... How old is the zuzong?"
Jiang Shining patted his poor, worn ears and snapped, "Who the fuck knows?"
Although Stone Zhang did not know why Xuanmin would know how to make yirong masks, he
nonetheless did exactly as instructed and made the flame hotter, then waited a bit longer.
Finally, he took the glue off the heat and carried a steaming hot bowl of it into the courtyard,
slamming it down onto the table with a clang. Pinching his ear, he hopped up and down and said,
"Okay, where are the other materials?"
Fang Cheng gathered the ingredients they'd collected and placed them onto the table. He'd already
chopped what needed to be chopped and juiced what needed to be juiced –– the little plates of
materials were arranged immaculately across the table, like a banquet spread.
Stone Zhang did not delay –– he began making the mask.
The others were extremely curious, but, knowing that it was a fine process and not wanting to
disturb Stone Zhang, they all stood as far as possible and dared not ask any questions. They only
stood there and watched.
Xue Xian found this all quite interesting too. He had heard of the so-called human skin masks, but
had never seen one being made. And yet, because of certain things on his mind that he did not wish
to express, he found himself unable to sit still––
Every time Xue Xian caught sight of Xuanmin, he would turn his wheelchair in the other direction
and escape. Sometimes he would go to speak to the twins in the front shop, and sometimes he
would go to bother the beggars. As Xue Xian hid, terrified, from Xuanmin, he grumbled to himself, I
just want to sit back and watch Stone Zhang make the mask! Is that so much to ask?
Because of all the running around, Xue Xian naturally did not get to observe the full process behind
the mask. By the time he'd circled the compound and finally come back, Stone Zhang was already
half-finished –– all he needed now was the cast. The little beggar was still lying in bed, her face
ravaged by the rash, and it was not the right time to try and touch her.
It was at this point that Stone Zhang could really show off his skill. He walked into the room and
studied the good half of the girl's face for some time, memorising every detail. Then, he moved
onto the ravaged half and studied that too, comparing the two sides.
When he came out, he seemed to know exactly what to do –– he immediately picked up the cast
material and began to carve...
This was the most effortful and time-consuming part of the process.
It was only after many hours that Stone Zhang finally presented the onlookers with his product.
However, the product was different from what Xue Xian had expected –– he thought the mask
would be a full face, but it was in fact two separate pieces: one slightly thicker and concave, and
the other as thin as a cicada's wing.
"Why is it two pieces?" Xue Xian couldn't help but ask as his wheelchair skittered to a halt.
Stone Zhang explained, "When it comes to making such masks, the approach is to add on, not to
take away. For instance, you might make thinner parts fatter, and raise the bridge of someone's
nose... The little girl is missing chunks of flesh on her face, and the two parts are not balanced ––
they need to be balanced out. This first thick piece is to fill in the gaps caused by the rash, and the
thin piece is to bind the thick part to the rest of her face. The thin piece is like a second skin on
top of the mask."
As Xue Xian listened to Stone Zhang speak, he stared at the two masks. Stone Zhang had panted the
colors very accurately, so that, from afar, the masks looked exactly like real human skin...
Hold on––
Real human skin…
Xue Xian turned his head and immediately rolled himself to Xuanmin's side. He tugged at Xuanmin's
sleeve, bringing Xuanmin down to chair level, and said, "Bald donkey, look at what Stone Zhang's
holding. Does it resemble your memories from Wen Village? You said that in your memories from
your youth, there were two images where you were holding human skin. Could this be it?"
Although Xue Xian had asked it as a question, he felt almost certain that he was right. Indeed, how
could a teenager, especially a teenager with a personality like Xuanmin's, end up holding someone's
flayed skin in his hands? He hated touching even a drop of blood –– would he touch human leather?
No way.
But he might touch human-skin masks...
As he thought this to himself, Xue Xian suddenly realised that Xuanmin had still not answered him.
When he looked up, he saw that Xuanmin was looking down at him too, and could not decipher
whether Xuanmin’s face was a happy or unhappy one –– he seemed cool and detached as normal,
yet somehow different.
But how different, Xue Xian couldn't say. He just knew that, after being stared at like that for a
while, he began to feel guilty. He wished he could roll his wheelchair away and escape again.
"Not running away anymore?" Xuanmin finally said. His tone was a bit... salty.
Xue Xian: “...”
Now Xuanmin was making Xue Xian sound like a coward. Xue Xian was irritated, but when he
replied, it was to return to the topic at hand: "So you really were holding human-skin masks? At
that age, why would you be making yirong masks instead of dutifully copying your sutras?"
"I don't remember," Xuanmin replied.
The fact that Xuanmin did not deny the first part meant that he acknowledged Xue Xian's guess ––
he, too, now thought that the objects he'd been holding in his memory were masks, or at least
fragments of masks. But what would a thirteen or fourteen year-old be doing with that?
Xue Xian squinted and began to ponder; as he did so, he felt the sleeve he'd been holding between
his fingers slip out of his grasp. Next, a hand arrived to pinch Xue Xian’s chin, moving it so that Xue
Xian was looking at Stone Zhang, before letting go again.
Beside him, Xuanmin's voice said, "First, do what you agreed to do."
Startled, Xue Xian absentmindedly touched his chin where Xuanmin had pinched him. When he
turned back, Xuanmin was striding back into their room, with no intention of staying in the
courtyard. And Xue Xian wasn't sure if it was just his own feeling, but...
The bald donkey seemed... unhappy?
Now that Stone Zhang had crafted a similar-looking exchange item, Xue Xian effortlessly placed a
spell [b] on the two halves of the mask. Jiang Shijing obeyed Xue Xian's instructions and tested the
mask on the back of her hand. As soon as the mask came into contact with her skin, it stuck to her,
looking as though it were growing out of her body. The colors and wrinkles were all perfectly
accurate –– even the small blemishes on the girl's face had been faithfully reproduced.
"Simply give this to the little girl when she wakes up,” Xue Xian said. “You should wait until her
scars have healed. If she doesn’t mind the way she looks, then don’t force her. But if she wants to
cover the damage, then simply stick the mask on her face and it will work just fine. As long as I'm
alive, this object will never lose its effect.”
At that moment, Xingzi, who had yearned for Xue Xian’s attention all day, brightened, and her
large eyes kept darting back to gaze upon him. Even Chen-sao couldn't help but glance at him every
once in a while and half-joke, "Xue-xiao-shaoye, do you think you could give me a facelift? How
about making me twenty years younger?"
Chen-shu averted his gaze and led Chen-sao away so as not to let her embarrass herself further.
Although the Fang family were a lively bunch, they all seemed to tacitly agree to close their
mouths at this moment. They had witnessed Xue Xian perform an extraordinary feat, but not a
single one of them tried to ask him about it –– it was polite, and quite caring, of them to be so
restrained.
As the group tidied away the little plates on the table, Lu Nianqi, who had been curled up in the
corner all day, suddenly waved manically at Xue Xian.
"What is it? Have you made progress?" Xue Xian asked.
Lu Nianqi nodded and said, "I'm not as good as Shijiu. I can't divine it accurately. But I can say that,
at least during the period between last night and this morning, the person who touched this black
blindfold was still at the location that I divined. Whether or not he'll still be here tonight, I can't be
sure."
"No worries. Let's go take a look first. If we can seize him, that would be ideal, but if not, we'll
know that he can't be far, and will have surely left some kind of clue." Xue Xian wagged his chin at
Lu Nianqi and said, "Tell us –– where is it?"
Lu Nianqi said, "A mountain that looks like a dustpan."
"Looks like a dustpan?" Xue Xian was not familiar with the area, so he had no idea what that meant.
"Oh, Boji Mountain!" [c] Xingzi, who had been silently observing them, suddenly said. "I know, I
know! Look –– if you walk straight in that direction, and take the southwest road once you leave
town, it's right behind the forest."
Seeing that noon was about to come upon them, Xue Xian did not want to delay. He slapped his
armrest, signalling that he wanted to get going. From what Xingzi had said, it did not seem like it
would take long for them to get there.
At the end of the southwest mountain road, the Ministry of Ceremonies’ carriage train came to a
halt. One of its leaders, the Taizhu, lifted his head and looked at the mountain in front of them.
"We’re almost there,” he said. “It's right behind the forest."
Chapter 60: Bone Threads (V)
Boji Mountain was named after its shape. The mountain was hidden behind a smattering of wild
forest, close to a village that stood near the border of Qingping County. The side of the mountain
that faced the sun was covered in rice paddies and looked pure and fresh in the daylight, halfhidden by a constant, thin cloud of water vapor.
But the reason why it was called Boji Mountain was because the side that did not face the sun
contained a large patch of concave earth. The concave part was always shrouded in fog so thick
that someone standing at the foot of the mountain looking up would not be able to see anything
there. Every once in a while, someone slipped and fell in, or a curious person went to explore, but
no one ever returned.
Thus, there were many local rumors about Boji Mountain. According to some rumors, so many
people had died in the sunken part that the area was a wild cemetery filled with white bones; yet
other rumors said that there were people living there, that they could sometimes hear their voices,
including the chilling cry of an infant –– no one knew if these cries came from ghosts or humans.
There were all sorts of stories that ranged from the mundane to the ridiculous, but not a single one
of them could be proven.
In previous decades, some people were stupid enough to go and explore, but these days, no one
had such a death wish. Even the rumors had begun to fade, and few people talked about it now.
Today, young people knew only that Boji Mountain existed and that they should not go there ––
though they had no idea why.
The officials from the Ministry of Ceremonies trotted forward, avoiding the sun-bathed little village
and paddies, heading straight for the dark side of the mountain. Before long, they could see that
patch of fog.
The Taizhu lifted his hand, halting the riders behind him, then turned and said, "Lady, [a] which of
these two paths do we take?"
Ahead of them, there were two paths. One went around the sunken part of the mountain and was
headed for the side, whereas the other was entirely hidden by the fog.
The fog was humid, cold, and emitted intense yin energy. It also had a faint, lingering wooden
smell –– or maybe it was the smell of medicine. It definitely seemed poisonous.
The Taibu had already checked her records multiple times during the journey, but now she frowned
at the tortoise shell again. Finally, she pointed into the fog: "Yes. This one."
The Taizhu sighed, then said to the train behind him, "Let's make sure we all cover our faces... and
our eyeballs."
Indeed, they were all human, with frail human bodies –– they knew not to be stupid in an unclear
situation.
Hearing the Taizhu's order, each of the riders in the train took out a small cotton pouch from their
chest pockets and shook out a small antidote pellet. They ingested the medication. Then they took
out a primitive-looking pouches of smelling salts and inserted these into their masks, beneath their
nostrils.
The Taibu reached into the bags strapped to her horse and retrieved a crescent-shaped bell, which
was carved on the side with the image of another tiny eight-sided bell.
Then she took out a stack of folded talismanic papers and extracted one of them. She cast it into
the fog and rang the bell three times, then kicked her stirrups. The horse obediently began to trot
again, following the ringing of the bell into the thick, dense fog.
As the Taibu went first and the Taizhu followed, the entire carriage train fell in line from two rows
into just the one. They inched into the fog.
The fog was a sickly white glaze through which they could see nothing –– even the horses beneath
them became headless ghosts. The sudden blindness was unnerving.
Despite this, the Taibu maintained a calm expression. With her brows slightly furrowed, she
focused on maintaining the same rhythm –– five steps of the horse for each ring of the bell –– and
led the long, thin train into the depths of the mountain. Halfway in, there was a young rider near
the back of the train who had never experienced such a thing, and began to panic in the fog.
Panic makes you lose control of your breathing. As the young official entered the fog, he
inadvertently gasped with fear, drawing a large amount of fog right into his nose.
Before the official had taken even three more steps, there was a plopping noise as he slid off his
horse and onto the ground. He pinched wildly at the skin of his throat, gasping for breath. Those
behind him were impatient; once they'd managed to control their own breathing, they repressed
their anxiety and pulled the young official back onto his horse.
"Keep your steps steady and your breath steadier––" came the gloomy, distant voice of the Taibu, as
wispy as smoke. She sounded as though she were speaking from a whole other world.
Despite her warnings, seven or eight officials in the train fell victim to the fog. They began to
convulse and spit out mouthfuls of blood, then quickly died.
The crescent-shaped bell rang five times in quick succession. This meant that the Taibu had arrived
at their destination.
It seemed that she was right in front of the mountain hollow. Strangely, the hollow looked different
from the way it did at the foot of the mountain. The fog was thin here, as thin as a layer of water
vapor rising from the ground after a day of rain, and not at all like the terrifying, opaque thing that
had pestered them all the way in. Within that weak layer of fog was a small, solitary building made
of bamboo. It seemed to have three stories, and was exquisitely crafted.
Perhaps because it had been submerged in the fog for too long, every single thin plank of bamboo
on the building was clean and shone with a brightness. Were it not for the fact that it was located
within that poisonous fog, it would look like a luxury inn.
At the head of the train, the Taibu and Taizhu studied the building for a while, waiting for those
behind them to file in and surround the building. If they took off their masks, the officials' faces
would probably reveal a sense of unhappiness––
Their mission had only been to track a location, but they'd already lost several lives. Anyone else
would be upset, too.
"Don't lose caution. The thin fog is poisonous too," the Taibu reminded the Zhenzi officials around
them. Then she met eyes with the Taizhu. The two swiftly descended their horses and proceeded,
with practiced hands, to lay down a series of talismans around the building, establishing a simple
array.
As the array took effect, the thin fog around the building suddenly floated away, sucked back into
the thicker fog around them. There was now a circle of clean air where the officials stood.
The officials all removed their smelling salts and got off their horses, gathering near the two
leaders to inspect the building.
They knew that they were here to find a person –– however, who the person actually was, the lowly
Zhenzi were not told. They had seen a likeness, but could not say what the person did, nor why
they were looking for them. Only the Taibu and Taizhu knew.
"Are you sure it's here?" the Taizhu asked the Taibu as he scanned the building again.
Even the Taibu herself realised that, if you wanted to hide a person here, it was both easy and
difficult: if the fog could block visitors out, then it was a perfect hiding place; but if visitors
managed to penetrate the fog as they had, then there was nowhere to run.
"Oh well. Let's search it," the Taizhu said as he turned to give instructions to the Zhenzi.
Soon, the two led five Zhenzi into the bamboo building with the aim of inspecting every room. The
hundred-odd other officials remained outside, holding down the fort.
The three-story building really was small –– in no time, the seven officials had finished searching it.
"So?" The Taizhu hurried down from the top floor. He held a scroll in his hand and flipped through
it, looking for clues, then shook his head and tossed it onto a nearby table.
The Taibu stood on the first floor, staring into a pristine living room. She said, "Nothing at all."
The Taizhu crossed his arms and looked around again, then finally said, "Lady, I'm not saying your
divinations were wrong... but maybe we missed a clue somewhere, and it affected the results?"
With the situation as it was, the Taibu was not offended by the question. She sat down by the table
and slammed the grass knot and tortoise shell onto its surface, studying them carefully.
"Do you want to... try using another shell?" the Taizhu asked.
The Taibu shook her head. "No. I cannot burn a shell for the same matter twice in a day. Let me
look harder."
But soon, she let out an exclamatory "Yi!"
"What is it?" the Taizhu asked.
"Nothing. It's the person I mentioned earlier," the Taibu replied. "When I was divining, they
happened to be in the nearby town, and now they've been brought into the shell markings."
"The one you said could not possibly be there? Who is it?" the Taizhu asked, confused.
The Taibu lifted her head and looked back at him, her black eyes behind the mask revealing a sense
of unease. "It must be some other person with a similar birthdate or life horoscope. It can't be who
I think it is. Indeed..."
"Stop beating around the bush. Who? Tell me." The Taizhu was about to explode.
The Taibu shook out the folded notes from her pocket and tapped at the red stamp on the letter
that read, Tongdeng. She said, "The Guoshi."
"Who?!" The Taizhu couldn't believe his ears. He wanted to scratch them, but his hands only came
into contact with the mask, so he had no choice but to put his hands away again.
The Taibu looked at him and repeated, "The Guoshi."
"Impossible. Impossible. How could it be ––" the Taizhu blubbered, shaking his head. "The Guoshi is
on the top floor of Famen Si. [b] We saw him before we left. The old man is still in seclusion. How
could he suddenly appear in Qingping County? You know the rules of his seclusion as well as I do. If
he leaves in the middle, then he's ruined the whole thing."
"Of course I know," the Taibu said. "That's why I said it must be someone similar, and not actually
him. However..."
The Taizhu waved his hand dismissively. "There's no ‘however’. Let's focus on the matter at hand."
Although he said this, he couldn't help but feel a rising sense of fear.
Just as the Taibu got ready to read her tortoise shell again, a small, gentle sound was emitted amid
the fog outside. It sounded as though someone had accidentally stepped on a bamboo leaf.
At the same time, as though blown by a breeze, the grass knot on the table shifted to a different
position.
The Taibu sprung up, gathered her things, and began to hurry down the stairs. "There's been a
change," she said. "We must leave this mountain hollow immediately. If we delay, we're going to
lose the person!"
Very soon after this, another group of people arrived at that fork in the road where the officials
had stopped before entering the mountain.
"Where do we go now? The creepy road full of fog that looks like it's going to kill us, or the clean
and safe-looking road?" asked a stout middle-aged man anxiously.
This group was none other than Xue Xian and his companions.
It was to be Jiang Shijing's birthday in two days. Xue Xian hadn't made Jiang Shining come along
with them, so that he could spend time with his sister at home. Instead he'd brought Lu Nianqi,
Stone Zhang, and Xuanmin.
Lu Nianqi was a human compass. Although he wasn't always very accurate, he was still highly useful
for someone as bad with directions as Xue Xian. Stone Zhang could remember the man who had
blindfolded him: if they found him, they needed Stone Zhang to identify him, so he, too, was
useful. And as for Xuanmin...
Whether or not he was useful, he had to be brought along.
Where such a logic came from, Xue Xian wasn't sure. He was probably used to travelling with
Xuanmin, and feared he would get bored without him.
Although some unknown urge had compelled Xue Xian to take Xuanmin along, now that they were
here, Xue Xian began to regret it. The events of last night still stood between them, and this
morning, Xuanmin had been in a weird mood. Plus... what had Fang Cheng said?
Oh, right: the effects of dragon spit could not go away within as short a time as one or two days.
Ha. Ha.
As Xue Xian admitted to himself that he must've been crazy to bring Xuanmin to Boji Mountain, Lu
Nianqi suddenly pointed into the fog and said to Stone Zhang, "Do you really need to ask? Of course
we have to take the road that looks like it's going to kill us."
"That fog.... I-i-is it poisonous?" stammered Stone Zhang.
"It's going to kill us. Of course it's poisonous," Lu Nianqi replied.
"So how do we go in..."
Without changing his expression, Lu Nianqi said, "We charge."
Oh, fuck off.
Stone Zhang wished he could simply run away. The worst part was, apart from a faint smell of
wood, he also thought he could detect the stench of blood in the fog... Fresh blood.
His legs began to tremble, and he wondered whether he should begin to cry again –– see if Xue Xian
would take pity on him.
Thankfully, before Stone Zhang began to squeeze out tears, the magnanimous Xuanmin said, "No
need to panic––"
Xuanmin took out a talisman. Just his mild mannerism was enough to reassure Stone Zhang.
Xuanmin was always reliable; he always had an idea. So he must know how to get them through
that poison fog.
Stone Zhang could tell from the talismanic paper that Xuanmin was going to establish an array. He
moved out of the way to make room for Xuanmin, and even tugged Lu Nianqi aside too.
But just as Xuanmin had selected the right talismanic paper for the job, a certain person, who had
been deep in thought, came back to his senses.
Suddenly, Xue Xian pushed Xuanmin's hand away and smirked. "There's no need to pull out all the
stops for something as small as this. Let me."
As he spoke, he slapped the armrest on his wheelchair. With a kacha sound, an enormous gust of
wind rose and began to rumble forward with the might of a thousand soldiers.
Hu–––
The fog that had blanketed the path for who knows how many years was blown to nothing by Xue
Xian's fierce wind. Now, they could see a dense thicket of old trees gnarled by the poisonous air of
the mountain hollow –– as well as a clear road into the mountain.
Xue Xian turned to Xuanmin and wagged his chin. Although his face displayed that usual air of lazy
foolishness, there was something to his expression that seemed to say, Isn't this the part where you
tell me how great I am?
Xuanmin only glanced back at him and said, "You've broken the armrest." His tone still had that...
saltiness.
Xue Xian: “...” People who can't read faces and insist on being so rude all the time should be
thrown directly into the sea.
Chapter 61: Tongshou Spider (I)
With the dense fog gone, all the things that had gone unnoticed beneath it were now revealed.
Xuanmin scanned the inconsistent patches of grass along the path and said, "Someone was here,
then left."
Xue Xian scoffed.
Obviously! Anyone could figure that out.
But... someone was here?
"What ordinary person would dare come here? Do they have a death wish?" Stone Zhang said,
perplexed. But as he said this, he realised what the important part of Xuanmin's sentence had
been. "Wait... came then left? They left, alive?"
No one would ever stumble into here by accident. And then to survive the poisonous fog and make
it back out alive? That meant that this was no ordinary person.
"Could there be another group of people looking for him?" Stone Zhang said, clicking his tongue.
"This is a really difficult place to get to. How many people did this guy piss off? But if these people
went in then came back out, that means they did what they came here to do. They either killed
him, or took him away, or he was never here in the first place..."
Stone Zhang wasn't stupid –– he just liked to ramble. In that moment, his mouth had been enough
for the four of them, and he'd said what they were all thinking.
So Xue Xian glanced at Lu Nianqi.
Assuming that Xue Xian wanted to ask whether his divinations were correct, or that Xue Xian
wanted him to do another divination, Lu Nianqi began to speak. But he noticed that Xue Xian
quickly looked away again.
Xue Xian summoned another gust of wind, leant back into his chair, and began to roll at high speed
onto the path. Within the blink of an eye, he was already four or five zhang away.
His distant voice made its way back to them. "Let's check out this place first,” Xue Xian said in a
lazy tone. “If he's not here, then we'll go track down the group of people that just left. Humans
only have two legs, and if they're on a horse, that's only two more legs. How fast could they
possibly be going? I could catch up on them even if I took a nap first."
Everyone else: “...”
Does it feel good to bully people who can only walk, when you’re the only person that can fly?
Xue Xian zoomed ahead, fast as lightning. Apart from overgrown weeds, there were no obstacles on
the path –– the poisonous fog had probably been this person’s main defense against visitors. Thus,
Xue Xian soon arrived in front of that three-story building inside the mountain hollow.
Xue Xian hated depending on others, and in general there were not many people who were
powerful or capable enough to be of much help to him anyway. Xuanmin was a special case, but
Xuanmin was still a mortal, and Xue Xian was holding his precious pendant, so he did not mind
going ahead without Xuanmin.
Xue Xian had originally intended to arrive first so as to get a general impression of the hollow, and
inspect everything that could be inspected. That way, if there were any traps ahead, he could
quickly get rid of them. Equally, if the man really wasn't here, then Xue Xian would be able to save
the mortals the effort of walking all the way in and back out again.
So as he rolled his wheelchair toward the building, he thought he looked very threatening and
fearsome. However...
Why did this building have to have three fucking stories? Each staircase spiralled this way and that,
and the bamboo steps were thin and frail, and connected in a way that meant one really had to use
one's whole body to climb up them...
The reason why Xue Xian took notice of all the building's shortcomings is because... Well, a certain
someone in a wheelchair had only been able to get here by borrowing the power of the wind. And
now that he wanted to get from the ground floor to the first floor, he again had to summon the
elements to help him. However, all this was easy for someone like Xue Xian.
Xue Xian wheeled himself to the front door of the first floor, planning to search the premises. But
he discovered that the damn door was too narrow, and his wheelchair was too wide. If he tried to
force his way in, he'd destroy the door; and if he destroyed the door, the entire building would
likely collapse. There was nothing he could do...
Apparently, this damn door had been constructed just to piss him off. This was straight-up
bullying! [a]
Thus, when Stone Zhang, Lu Nianqi, and Xuanmin finally arrived at the building, what they saw was
Xue Xian sitting by that door on the first floor with a blank expression on his face.
"What's wrong? Is he really not here?" Stone Zhang asked, sensing that Xue Xian was unhappy.
Xue Xian glared at him coldly. Startled, Stone Zhang wondered what he had done wrong, and
covered his mouth so as not to speak.
"I don't think he's searched it yet..." Lu Nianqi said. This kid was fearless.
"Why not?" Stone Zhang asked idiotically.
Before Lu Nianqi could respond, Xuanmin gave the zuzong a mild look and then began to walk up
the stairs.
The two said nothing more, and scurried after him.
Xuanmin did not ask Xue Xian why he was sitting still. Instead, Xuanmin went straight into the
building and peered into every room on the ground floor, then walked up those small, crooked
stairs and checked the first and second floors. Stone Zhang and Lu Nianqi didn't want to stand
around, nor did they want to hang out with Xue Xian outside, so they simply followed Xuanmin up
and down. In no time, they had searched every corner of the bamboo building.
And yet, they found nothing.
Never mind a shadow of the person –– without Jiang Shining in their group, there was not even a
sign of a ghost anywhere in the building.
Xue Xian watched angrily as the group paced in front of him.
"There really is nothing," Stone Zhang mumbled.
But Lu Nianqi said decisively, "He's here."
As he said this, a sudden sound of something knocking against the leaves rushed in from the forest
outside, making them all pause.
"Perhaps he was hiding in the woods, and now he's gone?" Stone Zhang ventured, looking out into
the thicket.
Without the fog to block their vision, it was easy to get a panoramic view of the forest, and also
easy to track the origins of the noise. The group looked in that direction, but only saw a black crow
fly out from the crown of a tree.
Lu Nianqi said, "Perhaps the earlier group of people thought the same thing as you."
Stone Zhang was stunned. "You mean they searched the building and found nothing, and then heard
a sound in the forest, and... Perhaps. That does sound plausible."
But then Stone Zhang added, "You make it sound like that crow is spiritual, [b] and is leading people
away on purpose." Stone Zhang was a coward, but it meant that he was highly sensitive: whenever
he heard about something, he would thoroughly investigate all its possibilities, rooting out an
explanation. "Hmm... Maybe it really is like that. Think about it. The fact that the bird could
survive in the fog suggests the fog isn't actually poisonous. But is that possible? No. So that means
there's something special about the bird."
Lu Nianqi wasn't one to chat, so he didn't respond to Stone Zhang. Instead, he calmly repeated
what he had previously said: "The person we are looking for is definitely still here."
"How do you know?" Stone Zhang looked around the building. "Did you do another divination? How
come I didn't see you do it?"
Lu Nianqi was sick of listening to Stone Zhang’s voice. He rubbed his ear. "I didn't. It's my instinct."
If anyone else started talking about ‘instinct’, Xue Xian would immediately tell them to get lost.
But it was different with Lu Nianqi –– he was physically, fundamentally uniquely attuned to magic,
so his ‘instinct’ was also bound to be special.
Xue Xian glanced at the boy and said, "So can you instinct a little more, and tell us what room he's
in?"
Lu Nianqi: “...”
You think I can get instincts on command? You insist on being unreasonable just because you know
that none of us here can actually take you in a fight.
Finally, Lu Nianqi lifted his finger and pointed. "Here."
The room he was pointing at was the one on the first floor that Xue Xian was still sitting in front
of.
Great. Xue Xian still couldn't get in.
"All there is in that room is a table and two chairs," Stone Zhang said, frustrated. "And a wooden
closet. I looked everywhere, even in the drawers. There's no one there!"
"The room inside," Lu Nianqi said.
The design of the bamboo building was very unique –– clearly, the person who had constructed it
was very cultured. Only half of the building had rooms, whereas the other half had been made into
a series of large balconies held up by bamboo scaffolding. The balconies combined with the roofs of
the rooms to create platforms on which people could walk. It was the first-floor platform, above
the ground floor, that they were now standing on.
But the room in question did not have a door leading from the platform. To get into the interior
room, one had to go through that room next to Xue Xian, and then take another staircase
downstairs to the ground floor.
That was the ‘inside’ room that Lu Nianqi meant.
Still frustrated, Stone Zhang said, "But we searched that room too. It's also just got a bookcase and
some books. Should I go back and flip through every single page of the books to check if he's hiding
in there?"
Xue Xian tapped impatiently at the armrest. "Let's do that."
Stone Zhang: “...”
Kids these days love to make all sorts of stupid jokes, and you can’t even scold them or beat them.
Although Stone Zhang grumbled to himself, he followed Lu Nianqi into the room. Before he went in,
he couldn't help but take a look back.
If Stone Zhang didn't know about Xue Xian's true form, he would address him as ‘Xue-xiao-xiongdi’.
But Xue Xian was a dragon, and you couldn't just go ahead and call a dragon your brother. He was
more like your great-grandfather. But to actually call him ‘great-grandfather’ [c] was a bit weird.
Jiang Shining, for instance, called Xue Xian ‘zuzong’, but a word like that came with all sorts of
connotations. If you weren't familiar with Xue Xian and tried to call him ‘zuzong’, he'd probably kill
you. So, in that moment, as Stone Zhang turned around to call out to Xue Xian, he had to stop
himself midway, for he did not know how to address Xue Xian at all.
Stone Zhang had wanted to ask why Xue Xian wasn't coming in with him and Lu Nianqi. In the end,
he turned to Xuanmin and said, "Dashi, why aren't you coming in?"
It was a bit nerve-wracking to think that only Stone Zhang and Lu Nianqi were going into the room.
After all, Lu Nianqi insisted that the man they were looking for was hiding in there.
Xuanmin calmly said, "Coming."
He was standing in front of Xue Xian. As he spoke, he took a look at Xue Xian and then wordlessly
bent down to pick Xue Xian up in his arms.
"…What are you doing?!” Xue Xian said.
Xue Xian had gotten used to the joy of being able to zoom about on his own, and now he had to go
back to the days of being carried. Xue Xian wanted to spit blood.
"Don't move," Xuanmin said mildly as he walked them into the room.
Stone Zhang's eyes bulged out. "What..."
Although Xuanmin did not reply, it was Lu Nianqi who said, "I think the chair is too wide to fit into
the door."
Xue Xian laughed coldly and wanted to say something to scare off the two gawkers. But before he
could open his mouth, he realised that something was off: Xuanmin's body temperature was
extremely high. It was perhaps even hotter than it had been last night. Yet his palms were cool and
comfortable. Furthermore, although Xuanmin was emanating heat, there was not a bead of sweat
on him.
For Xuanmin body heat to be so abnormal, it had to have been caused by Xue Xian's dragon spit.
Xue Xian began to feel guilty and decided to behave. But even if this was an effect of the dragon
spit, it was still a different reaction from last night. How could that be? Were it not for the fact
that Xue Xian was literally in Xuamin’s arms, he would never even have noticed that Xuanmin was
burning up.
Xue Xian pondered this and realised that there was only one explanation: Xuanmin had found a way
to repress it, so that others could not detect that anything was amiss.
No wonder Xuanmin had been acting so weird all morning. Never mind a bit of saltiness in his
tone, Xue Xian thought. If I were feeling this damn uncomfortable, I'd bury everyone around me in
salt.
Now Xue Xian truly decided to behave and let Xuanmin carry him downstairs into the interior room.
Just as Stone Zhang had said, the room was extremely basic: all it had were a bookshelf attached
to a table and some books, with not even a chair in sight.
As they entered, Xuanmin set Xue Xian down onto the table, rearranged his sleeves, and walked
away.
The lantern on the table was lit –– Stone Zhang had lit it when he'd first come in. The light
illuminated the entire small room. It was impossible to guess where the man might be hiding.
Of course, Stone Zhang and Lu Nianqi did not actually flip through the books one by one. They
ignored the bookcase entirely and were feeling along the gaps in the bamboo on the walls, looking
for some kind of secret mechanism.
It was Xuanmin who, looking back at the bookcase, took out one of the books and began to flip it.
But as soon as he opened the page, his finger froze.
Because the book he'd opened was covered in someone's annotations. The content of the notes
didn't matter –– what was important was the calligraphy.
The characters were thin but stable, and the strokes in some of them were highly unique. It was a
highly difficult handwriting to forge. But as soon as Xuanmin set eyes upon the calligraphy, he knew
exactly how to replicate those twists in the lettering.
Because the handwriting was his.
Chapter 62: Tongshou Spider (II)
Anyone would be completely shocked to see their own handwriting in some random place they
didn’t recognise. If you were of the cowardly type, you might even feel a frisson of fear. Even if
you were brave, though, you still wouldn’t be very happy about it.
Were you to find your own handwriting in a normal place, then perhaps it wouldn't be that bad. But
this was a mysterious bamboo building, and clearly not a welcoming or nice location –– after all,
you had to have something deeply wrong with you to willingly imprison yourself within a thicket of
poisonous fog in the middle of nowhere.
So it would be highly unnerving to find your own handwriting here.
Thankfully, the book itself didn’t seem to have any issues: it was an ordinary booklet filled with
notes about some anonymous person's travels. These notes were nothing special: in a
straightforward manner, they described how the author had accidentally gone into a funeral stop in
Langzhou to shelter from the rain, and had run into corpse-carriers. [a]
And the annotations in the margins were even simpler. They consisted of only three words: Xia
Mountain, Langzhou.
This was too small to even be defined as an annotation, really. It was more of a marker.
Frowning, Xuanmin stared intently at the calligraphy, only coming back to his senses when Xue Xian
called out at him.
"Bald donkey? Why are you just standing there? What's in the book?" Although most of Xue Xian's
attention had been on Stone Zhang and Lu Nianqi, he had noticed Xuanmin take out a book and
then stand there unmoving for a long time. It had made Xue Xian curious.
From Xue Xian's angle, he could only see Xuanmin's profile. The lantern in this room wasn't very
bright, so Xuanmin's brow cast a dark shadow onto his eyes, outlining the handsome silhouette of
his nose. Yet this also made his expression seem highly severe, as though he'd seen a ghost.
It was rare to see Xuanmin so taken aback, so Xue Xian wanted to take advantage and see what his
face looked like. That was why he hadn’t been able to resist calling out to Xuanmin.
Xuanmin continued to stare at the book and did not move his head. All he said was, "Nothing."
This was an automatic reaction on his part. Right after he said it, he looked up, and the hand that
was reaching out to grab another book from the shelf stopped. He shut the book and began to walk
over.
In all honesty, there was a really unique aspect to Xuanmin's aura, which became the clearest when
he was doing certain things alone and in silence. It was as though nothing that was happening
around him had anything to do with him, so that he appeared utterly alienated and desolate. And
the desolation wasn't the melancholy kind, but one that made him seem far away and detached.
A monk like him seemed to be made to stand alone in a deserted, snow-covered temple, with a
pagoda made of bronze and ebony behind him, and a heavy set of doors in front of him.
Outside the doors would be the chaotic red dust of the common realm; and inside the door would
be the high priest, a lone figure made of clouds and snow.
When Xuanmin had said, Nothing, this was the image that he’d conjured in Xue Xian’s mind. It
made Xue Xian feel a lingering sense of discomfort. But then, when Xuanmin had changed his mind
and begun to walk over, it was as though he had suddenly pushed open the heavy temple doors and
stepped out into the world.
For some reason, this simple action of Xuanmin’s made Xue Xian happy.
But soon, Xue Xian’s good mood was shattered again––
Xuanmin gave him the book and opened it to the page he'd been reading before, pointing down at
the lettering.
Naturally, Xue Xian saw the marking in the margin. He read it twice over, but did not see anything
particularly interesting. Finally, he said, "There's something wrong with the annotations?"
Xuanmin said, "Mn."
"What is it?" Xue Xian asked, confused.
“It looks like I wrote it."
Xue Xian: “...”
At first, Xue Xian's heart skipped a beat, then a mixture of complicated emotions rushed into him.
On the one hand, he was pleased that Xuanmin was telling him this so honestly, with no intention
of keeping it a secret. But on the other hand... Why was there an object here connected to
Xuanmin?!
The person they were looking for was responsible somehow for the maiming of Xue Xian’s body. In
all the places in the world that this stranger could possibly hide, he had chosen this foggy, unknown
place. And inside this mysterious room, traces of Xuanmin's past had turned up...
For a brief moment, as Xue Xian stared at the calligraphy on the page, his mind became blank. His
heart felt as though it had been suddenly plunged into an icy river and was now convulsing
ceaselessly with shocked, hypothermic shivers.
But after some time sitting there, frozen, Xue Xian recalled the figure he’d seen that day by the
sea, who had stood beyond the cage of golden threads with the wind whipping their long hair across
their face. Xue Xian knew that Xuanmin had shaved his head as a child. So the person who had
maimed him was not Xuanmin.
So everything was okay.
Finally, Xue Xian let go of the breath he'd been holding, and the blurred words on the page became
legible again.
"So what if you wrote it? Are you trying to get me to praise your handwriting?" Xue Xian sneered as
he flipped through more of the pages. He hoped to use the teasing to repress the sudden sense of
doubt that had nagged him just then. Although he had immediately nipped that doubt in the bud, it
was still hurtful to imply that you did not trust someone. It was best not to discuss such things at
the moment –– he did not want to perturb Xuanmin, lest Xuanmin begin to crack.
Xue Xian tossed the book back to Xuanmin and spread his arms wide in measurement. "If you want
to catch up to how good my handwriting is, there’s still this much to improve,” he said.
Xuanmin: “...”
Stone Zhang, still searching the wall for clues, overheard this last sentence and thought, I can't
believe there are such shameless people in the world. I'm truly honored to be a witness to it.
Even more shameless was that the two powerful ones were just idly standing there, waiting for a
middle-aged man and a half-blind boy to figure out what lay within the room. What the fuck was
that about?
Since Xuanmin had willingly given the book for Xue Xian to inspect, he had prepared himself well in
advance for any kind of reaction from Xue Xian. But he really had not expected Xue Xian to say
that, of all things.
No sense of alarm crossed Xuanmin’s eyes, however –– he simply stared silently at Xue Xian for a
long time.
Xue Xian glanced at him and added, "It's just a book. How much can you deduce from that? Why
don't you try to call out to the room and see if the room answers."
Xuanmin: “...”
Seeing that Xue Xian was becoming more unreasonable by the minute, Xuanmin retracted his gaze
and decided not to engage him anymore. Xuanmin turned to take out another book from the shelf.
However, although the room did not answer, something else did.
Suddenly, a strange batting noise rose from outside the building and seemed to be rapidly coming
toward them.
Startled, everyone in the room jumped, and Xue Xian almost summoned a gust of wind to blow the
thing away. But as he calmed down, he saw that the thing was a pitch-black bird.
This room had a high ceiling and was very spacious, so as the bird flapped in, it flew around
aimlessly and did not hit anyone.
"Is this the bird from the forest earlier?" Stone Zhang asked, recalling the crow that had almost led
them away.
With his sharper-than-human eyes, Xue Xian studied the frenzied bird as it flapped about in the
lantern light and said, "You're right, it is. How did it get in here?"
As he spoke, the black bird did something else to startle them.
It flew up to the high ceiling and spun around in circles: it seemed to be searching for a specific
person. It soon found its target and flew down in a flash, flapping its wings manically until it landed
on Xuanmin's shoulder. Then it lifted a long plumed wing and nuzzled against Xuanmin's cheek,
chirping.
Stone Zhang's mouth dropped to the floor.
Lu Nianqi only coolly said, "I don't think that's the noise crows normally make..."
“...” Xue Xian was probably the most taken aback of them all.
Now the heavens really had called his bluff. Just as he'd said, See if the room answers, this damn
bird had come in and answered. Not only that, but it had come all the way into the room –– and not
only that, but it had to go up to Xuanmin and sit on his shoulder. As the crow had flown by, it had
sprayed feathers onto Xue Xian's face. This ...
What was this?!
Even Xuanmin had been shocked by the appearance of the bird. When it had flown into the room,
the foot that had stepped out in the direction of the bookcase had frozen.
Xuanmin didn't need to look at more of the books to understand –– beasts and birds were inherently
sensitive, and many were particularly intelligent. No ordinary bird would just tumble into a room
and settle onto a stranger's shoulder, and then nuzzle that stranger's face.
"W-what is going on?" Stone Zhang finally said, completely lost.
Blankly, Xue Xian glared at the bird and scoffed, "What do you think? Obviously, this bird knows the
bald donkey."
"So..." Stone Zhang mumbled.
"So this building likely belongs to the monk," Lu Nianqi said, finishing Stone Zhang’s thought.
Lu Nianqi and Stone Zhang had not seen the calligraphy –– if they had, they would not have added
the word ‘likely’.
"This is your building," Xue Xian said, staring into Xuanmin’s eyes.
Xuanmin glanced at the bird on his shoulder. He had to admit that, normally, he hated being too
close to other people or things –– but when this crow had come to nuzzle him, he had felt a sense of
familiarity rather than the usual automatic disgust. So he, too, concluded that this bamboo building
really must be his.
As Xue Xian stared hard at Xuanmin's eyes, Xuanmin looked up and met his gaze. "Yes," he said
matter-of-factly, without seeming to be hiding anything. The odd thing was that, after Xuanmin
responded, he did not tear his gaze away –– he continued to look calmly back at Xue Xian.
Maybe it was Xue Xian’s mistaken instinct –– maybe the dim light of the lantern in the room had
made things seem different from reality –– but Xue Xian got the feeling that Xuanmin was rather
worried about his reaction...
Xue Xian automatically looked away and stiffly said, "That bird is stupid."
The crow ruffled its feathers and cried out again, then came flying at Xue Xian to peck at his face.
"It can understand human language. It really is some kind of spiritual bird," Xue Xian said unhappily.
"Why are you so nice to the bald donkey but so rude to me? Huh? Looks like you don't want to keep
that beautiful smooth plumage of yours!"
This niezhang had been alive for at least hundreds of years, yet here he was, fighting with a bird...
What a wonder. As Xue Xian spoke, he even lifted his hand to try and pluck at the crow's tail
feathers.
Unable to defeat Xue Xian, the black bird chirped again harshly and flew back to Xuanmin's
shoulder. With that, the strange, silent disconnect that had previously settled between Xue Xian
and Xuanmin suddenly disappeared.
Xue Xian chuckled, then looked at Xuanmin again. "So this is your home, I guess. But you're not the
one who maimed me –– I'm sure of that. At the same time, it does seem that you have some kind of
connection to that person. I hope that you were opposed to each other, and not... together."
Xue Xian spoke with no expression on his face, and Xuanmin’s demeanor was detached, too. Stone
Zhang, standing by the wall and observing this, felt afraid to even breathe; even Lu Nianqi, who
never normally paid attention to what was going on around him, detected something strange about
the atmosphere.
Xue Xian was staring into Xuanmin's eyes and did not miss a single hint of even the most subtle
emotion in that calm gaze. If Xue Xian saw correctly, when he'd said that last word, together, there
had been a minuscule change in Xuanmin's eyes.
The change was tiny, almost imperceptible, and Xue Xian wasn't sure what it meant. But at least...
Xuanmin wasn't completely unfazed.
They had been travelling together for quite a while now. If, when faced with the possibility that
they may be enemies, Xuanmin had continued to show that absolute sense of stillness and
nonchalance, then they might as well part ways right then and there.
Xue Xian felt a strange feeling. There was nothing wrong, but somehow, things didn't seem right
either.
But it wasn't the right time to dive deep. Xue Xian rearranged his face back into that carefree
expression and jutted out his chin. "Look at you. You go around looking upon everyone with a filthy
sense of disdain. You could probably never be in cahoots with anyone even if you wanted to –– you'd
annoy the other person to death. Alright, now stop overthinking it and go help look at the walls.
Since this room is yours, your instinct will be better than anyone else's. Show us! Show us where the
secret mechanism is!”
As Xue Xian spoke, he slapped the table with exaggerated motions, as though interrogating a
prisoner.
Xuanmin: “...”
A certain someone flitted between extreme emotions like flipping the pages in a book. No one
could keep up with him –– even Xuanmin felt exasperated.
Xuamin continued to stand there. Just as he wanted to speak, that spiritual bird began to nuzzle his
face again. The crow chirped harshly at Xue Xian a second time, then flew up to a corner of the
high ceiling and began flapping its wings at a piece of bamboo at the end of the wall.
With a weng–– noise, some kind of mechanism in the bamboo ceiling unlatched and the ground
beneath their feet began to tremble. Suddenly, the floor vanished.
This building had a secret dungeon?!
Xue Xian’s hearing was more sensitive than humans’. As they sank all the way to the bottom and
the mechanism stopped, he suddenly heard, in some distant corner, the weak sound of someone
breathing.
Chapter 63: Tongshou Spider (III)
But there was something strange about that breathing noise... It was so faint that it sounded like
the person was about to die, yet the rhythm of the breaths was extremely steady.
After three soft inhales and exhales, the sound stopped, and did not emerge again.
"That might be the man we're looking for. He stopped breathing... He couldn't've just died, could
he?" Xue Xian muttered, frowning.
His damn wheelchair was still outside, and he could not move by himself, so all he could do was sit
on the desk and watch. But Xuanmin, standing beside him, did not hesitate and began to walk
swiftly to where Xue Xian was pointing.
For some reason, ever since they'd been plunged into this basement area, the lantern on the table
had become much dimmer. The flame was only a small, bean-sized thing, extremely vulnerablelooking, as though it might go out any second. Naturally, the room had darkened too.
From what they could see, this was a square room with stone walls, about the same width as the
room they'd fallen from earlier — though without being able to see where the walls ended, they
could not be sure of the room’s dimensions.
Xuanmin's silhouette quickly disappeared from the glow of the lamp. Because his steps were always
so utterly silent, in that moment, it seemed as though he had been entirely swallowed by the
darkness, never to return.
Something made Xue Xian's heart squeeze. It certainly wasn’t fear: in all the years he'd lived, he'd
never known the feeling of fear, and he wasn't about to begin now. It was more like he'd sensed
something was amiss...
In that instant, the mechanism above their heads suddenly began to hum again.
As Xue Xian looked up, he saw a massive black shadow come down upon them. With a clang, it
locked itself into the wall and became the flooring of the room above, and this stone room's new
ceiling... They were trapped here.
“...” If it weren’t for the fact that Xuanmin had amnesia, Xue Xian would demand, Did you build
this place just to mess with people? We haven't even gotten out yet, and you've sealed the exit.
What are you playing at?
And if it weren’t for the fact that this was Xuanmin's home, Xue Xian would blast that new ceiling
to pieces!
But Xue Xian was used to all kinds of mysterious and scary situations. Ultimately, a roof sliding shut
was a mere annoyance, and nothing too major. Let it be –– once they found the man they were
looking for, they'd have all the time they needed to figure out how to escape that ceiling.
So Xue Xian looked away from the ceiling and gazed back into the darkness.
But in that moment of distraction, he felt as though something had changed. Something was
missing...
Right, it was far too quiet. Even Stone Zhang had shut his huge mouth–– hold on!
Where was Stone Zhang?!
Frowning, Xue Xian looked around him. In the dim lantern light, there was nothing to see at all.
Where had Stone Zhang and Lu Nianqi gone?
"Bald donkey!" Xue Xian shouted blindly into the dark. "Stone Zhang and that kid, Lu Nianqi, have
disappeared."
For a moment, he feared that even Xuanmin had vanished, too.
Thankfully, Xuanmin's calm voice came floating in from some pitch-black part of the room. But
what he said was not reassuring at all: "The person hiding here has also disappeared."
"You didn't find him?" Xue Xian's brows furrowed further.
Xuanmin's white robes emerged from the shadows. He walked over to the table, picked up the
lantern, and returned once more to the place where Xue Xian had heard the breathing.
The lantern was on its last legs. It strained to emit just a tiny bit more of the lingering light,
casting a weak glow ahead of Xuanmin's steady steps. The light did not reach very far –– it could
only create a circle around Xuanmin's feet, which made it seem as though it were his white robes
that were casting the light.
As Xuanmin walked, the place where Xue Xian sat grew ever dimmer, until he was absorbed into
the darkness.
From the blind spot where he now sat, Xue Xian watched as Xuanmin stopped walking and held the
frail lantern flame up, shining it on that corner. At the long end of the stone room, under the light
Xuanmin cast, the corner could now be clearly seen.
Indeed, there was no one.
Xue Xian's hearing had never been wrong before. He was sure that the breathing noise he'd heard
earlier had come from that area. Besides, the breathing he'd heard was on its last legs; just like the
lantern flame that Xuanmin held in his hands, the person in the room sounded like he might die any
second.
How could such a frail, dying person escape from under their noses?
Xue Xian hadn't been paying attention earlier: with the sudden drop in the flooring and that
breathing noise, he had completely forgotten that Stone Zhang and Lu Nianqi even existed. Now, he
wondered whether they hadn't come down with him and Xuanmin at all. Were they still stuck
upstairs?
So they’d disappeared, and now the hidden man had also vanished...
Xue Xian understood what this meant. Of course he did: if he still hadn’t known what was going on
after all that, then the head stuck at the top of his neck would have absolutely no use apart from
making him look taller.
"He’s trying to hide, so he’s playing us," Xue Xian said, jutting his chin out at Xuanmin. "Have you
checked the whole area? Is there any flaw?"
It really was inconvenient not to have the wheelchair anymore –– now he needed to bother others
for every little thing. Although Xue Xian did not doubt Xuanmin's intellect, it was disheartening to
have to sit on that table in the darkness, waiting for others to report back to him. Xue Xian couldn't
sit still. He gripped the table beneath him and, with a push, lifted it up with himself still on top.
Soon there was a loud crash as the table, and Xue Xian atop it, clattered heavily onto the floor next
to Xuanmin.
Despite the commotion, Xue Xian still sat peacefully on the table. The gust of wind he'd summoned
to bring him here continued past him and hurtled toward the corner of the room, brushing past
Xuanmin's white sleeve. When Xue Xian halted the wind, the stone room fell silent again.
Xuanmin held the lantern and watched Xue Xian with what looked like resignation, though he said
nothing. He shone the light onto the corner again, not letting a single cobweb escape their
attention.
"There's a drop of blood here," Xue Xian said, pointing at a tiny nook near a crack in the wall.
Xuanmin inspected it. Then, as though having suddenly remembered something, he turned and
shone the light on the opposite corner of the room, saying, "Here too."
He gestured at Xue Xian to wait, then strode confidently over to that other corner and studied the
bloodstain there. When he was done, he looked back at Xue Xian from across the darkness and said,
"An array."
Xue Xian understood. "Indeed. He couldn't escape, so now he's trying to trick us. What kind of
array?"
Xue Xian naturally did not know as much about arrays as Xuanmin. He rarely needed to use them,
and would obviously not be able to guess what kind of array someone had created just by a few
drops of blood on the floor. When it came to that, he had to rely on the bald donkey.
"It's not a violent array. It's more to buy time," Xuanmin said as he came back over with the lantern.
"With a stone room like this, it's hard to set a violent trap. So in what way does the array buy time?"
Xue Xian asked, frowning.
"This array is called Nine Rings,"
table. "It is unbreakable."
[a]
Xuanmin calmly said as he placed the lantern back onto the
"…Why not?” Xue Xian asked. “Does that mean that once we're inside, there’s no way out?"
"Most arrays have eight doors. Although they are difficult to get ahold of, once you find the correct
door, you can leave," Xuanmin said slowly. "But Nine Rings has no door. No matter how powerful
the person being trapped is, there is no exit. It is often used by people who need to make an
escape. After one shichen, the array undoes itself."
“...” Xue Xian was so furious that all he could do was laugh. "If we have to wait an entire shichen to
get out of here, even a boiled duck will have flown away by the time we’re out."
He had no patience to sit around here for that long. As he spoke, he raised a hand.
"Wait!" Xuanmin warned with a frown.
But it was too late. The tiny stone room was suddenly illuminated by purple and white bolts of
lightning that knocked into the four walls around them with terrifying power. As the lightning bolts
hit the walls, they exploded with a deafening roar.
This zuzong had clearly run out of patience. Seeing as there were no doors to a Nine Rings spell, he
had decided to use brute force. He would not stop until they broke out.
But the array was far too cunning. Not only was the thunder that Xue Xian summoned unable to
cause even a fissure in the walls, it had instead made the situation worse: with each strike, a redhot fire burst out and rushed across the stone so that, in the blink of an eye, they had become
surrounded by pillars of raging flame.
The flames quickly billowed and began to lick hungrily at Xue Xian and Xuanmin's sleeves.
But that wasn't even the worst part –– the worst part was that, with the fire, the temperature in
the room shot up and hot air filled the entire room. If the fire kept raging, they would all become
steamed buns.
In that moment, Xue Xian felt as though he were that small golden marble again, rolling around
dazed in Xuanmin's pouch, electrified by the heat emanating from Xuanmin’s hip bones.
Xue Xian’s natural environment was that of the tempestuous skies and the deepest oceans. He
loved the cold and he loved water. And what he hated the most was the sweltering heat.
As the fire began to roast them alive, Xue Xian suddenly felt the table beneath him shake. He
looked over and saw that Xuanmin was frowning, with his eyes shut tight and one hand gripping the
side of the table.
Shit. The effect of the dragon spit had not yet dissipated, so Xuanmin had already been feeling
incredibly hot but had been suppressing it all within him. Now, with the flames around them, he
was losing control –– perhaps there really was a danger of qi deviation.
Xue Xian didn’t need to give it another thought. He stopped immediately.
The roaring thunder suddenly disappeared, and, with it, the flames spreading across the walls
gradually died down. The walls did not even retain black streaks from the burning. Instead, they
returned to their previous state –– it was as though Xue Xian had never summoned any thunder at
all… Extremely uncanny.
And even though the fire was gone, the hot air was still fucking there, steaming them both alive.
Worse, the tiny, flickering lantern flame that had been on its last legs finally keeled over and died.
With a small hu––, it disappeared.
Plunging the entire room into absolute darkness.
Not only was it so dark that Xue Xian could not even see the fingers on his own hand, but it was
utterly silent in the room, too. Every sound began to resound with piercing echoes. Xue Xian's five
senses were already far stronger than humans', and now the sensory overload was starting to drive
him crazy. Every time Xuanmin breathed, it came out unusually clear and close, and reverberated
across the four walls to worm its way into Xue Xian's ear. He felt as though the sound was burying
him alive.
The heat was going straight to Xue Xian's head. His reaction time slowed too, so that, for a
disoriented moment, he did not understand where that heavy sound of breathing or the ripples of
heat were coming from.
"What is going on..." he muttered. He could feel his robes becoming sticky against his skin as sweat
began to seep out of every pore in his body, and it distracted him to the point where his speech
was becoming slurred.
"The array is named ‘Nine Rings’ because..." came the low sound of Xuanmin's voice, which seemed
to creep up to the very skin of Xue Xian's ear. "Every time you try to break out using brute force,
the pressure felt by those trapped inside doubles. All in all, the doubling can multiply ninefold ––
nine levels."
“...”
So this was the first level: it was already unbearable. By the ninth level, he and Xuanmin would
have been thoroughly cooked. Xue Xian tried to think amidst his dizzy state.
He bit down on the tip of his tongue and wondered why this array had to be about fire rather than
water. At the same time, he worried about Xuanmin's state –– from the sound of his voice just now,
he did not seem well.
They needed an idea...
Never mind everything else –– first, this bald donkey needed some relief.
Xue Xian forced himself to think. They couldn't get out of the spell, that was for sure, and in the
meantime, he didn't have any kind of medicine on him ––
Wait.
In his daze, Xue Xian remembered one thing: he was a dragon, so obviously, everything from his
body was precious to humans. He could not get hold of his scales or his horns in his state: the room
was too small, and if he tried to transform back into his dragon form, he would fill up the entire
room. Xuanmin really would die… from being crushed to death.
Besides, even if he did manage to obtain a scale or a horn, he couldn't just stuff it into Xuanmin’s
mouth –– that stuff needed to be ground into powder, and the process took forever. Apart from
dragon scales and dragon horns, other substances that could heal humans included dragon spit and
dragon blood...
Right. Blood.
But having learned his lesson from the dragon spit, Xue Xian no longer dared to act so recklessly.
He raised a sweat-damp hand and felt around in the dark until he found Xuanmin, then patted him
and said, "Dragon blood... Does blood have any annoying side-effects?"
Xuanmin was silent for a time, then said, "No."
"Good, then I'll give you some." Xue Xian breathed out an exhausted sigh as his mind raced. Where
should he make the puncture?
In the darkness, amid Xuanmin's heavy breathing, Xue Xian heard him say, "Really?"
For a moment, Xue Xian froze.
Before his confused mind could even react, he felt his chin be pinched by someone's hand.
Xue Xian automatically moved his head toward the direction of the hand. Next, he suddenly felt
something brush up against the side of his neck.
Xue Xian's breath caught in his throat. He automatically twitched his fingers, wanting to raise his
arm, yet his arm would not move –– instead his hand only gripped the side of the table tighter.
There was something within him that wanted to come out. All he needed to do was accept it, and
call it forth. And at the same time, another strange, unusual feeling tumbled through the thick
soup of his dazed mind, finding no exit nor release.
That feeling of being touched so tenderly on his neck was so overwhelming that it seemed to block
out everything else in the world. It was as though something was resting lightly and patiently on
Xue Xian’s skin, and only required a little bit more pressure and a little bit of time to pierce
through his flesh...
"No." At that moment, Xue Xian finally realised what the strange feeling was –– with Xuanmin's
aloof, distant personality, if they really were to find themselves in such a situation, Xuanmin would
only ask Xue Xian to get away. Xuanmin would never, ever agree so easily to drink Xue Xian’s blood,
and would definitely never drink it from his neck.
In an instant, Xue Xian's overheated mind became crystal clear. His face turned hard and he pushed
away the person standing in front of him.
Xue Xian was highly powerful, and, when he was under pressure, he would often lose control of the
strength in his hands. With that push, any ordinary person would crash into the opposite wall and
shatter the stone to pieces –– but as this person's body slammed into the wall, it made no noise.
Instead was the noise of something small, like a pearl, scattering to the floor and rolling to a stop.
With that, everything around Xue Xian suddenly dissipated like smoke. From the uncomfortable
heat to the complete darkness, all of it faded to nothing. With a neutral expression, Xue Xian
looked around him––
He was still sitting on the desk, and the ceiling above him was very high –– the dungeon was not
sealed. The lantern on the table had not died yet, either, and Xuanmin stood there next to him
with his eyes closed. Even Stone Zhang and Lu Nianqi were back, lying on the floor unconscious.
Xue Xian knew what this was: each of them was plunged into their own versions of the array, and
had not awoken yet.
Xue Xian laughed coldly, then raised his claw and swiped at that dark corner where he'd originally
heard the breathing noise.
There was something heavy there, and he dragged it out of the corner towards him. It was a man
sitting crumpled on the floor. He was covered in dust and dirt, looked worn and bedraggled, and
emitted the pungent smell of fresh blood.
"You can start by telling me what array this is," said Xue Xian as he hooked two fingers in the air.
The man was lifted up by the throat by an invisible force. "Next, tell me whether you've ever
touched a dragon bone. Then you’ll have earned the right to bargain: let me know which way you'd
prefer to die."
The man was bleeding profusely from his mouth, but he pulled his haggard face into a grin and
hoarsely said, "What a shame. If it had only taken you a little bit longer... then I would have
succeeded. But no worries. There are still three."
Xue Xian's face turned cold, and he made to move the hand that controlled the man's neck.
But the man spoke again. "You can't... You can't help them. When it comes to Heart
Demons, [b] each must break out of their own will. I only need one of them to take a bit longer..."
the man paused, then began to laugh. As he laughed, he choked on more blood in his throat, and
began to cough so hard that his entire body convulsed.
---
Chapter 64: Tongshou Spider (IV)
Heart Demons...
Xue Xian frowned. Naturally, he had heard of Heart Demons: such arrays were often set by those
who found themselves in the most dire of situations, such as being faced with a far more powerful
opponent, or being surrounded on all sides. The array would delay the opponent and give the
spellcaster a lifeline to escape.
This was a good tactic for a weaker person who needed to defeat a stronger person, or for a small
group of people to defeat a larger group of people. Indeed, everyone had demons in their heart —
whether these were regrets or doubts — that would plague them from time to time. This was the
case no matter how big or small, no matter how near or far the regrets and doubts were.
It was a hidden trick that snuck up on you, so that by the time you realised what was happening,
you would already be trapped. The array was able to bring out all the demons that haunted you.
This was why Xue Xian had frowned when he heard the words ‘Heart Demons’... Astonishingly, his
Heart Demons hadn't had anything to do with being maimed in Huameng County, nor with obtaining
revenge against those who had maimed him...
The vision had not made mention of any of those things. Neither had the vision been about his
desire to get out of the stone dungeon: such a weak and circumstantial desire would never have
been enough to get someone like Xue Xian trapped in the array. So since none of those options had
been the bait to lure him into the trap... then it had to be something else. Or someone else.
And there had only been one other person in the vision: Xuanmin.
That explained why, earlier, Stone Zhang and Lu Nianqi had suddenly disappeared, leaving Xue Xian
alone with Xuanmin –– this was how the array had manufactured a situation to draw out the demons
in Xue Xian’s heart.
The only reason Xue Xian had gotten out so quickly was because his demons had never been lodged
that deeply –– or because the flaws in the array had been too obvious.
As Xue Xian realised all this, his face went through a series of complicated expressions before
settling back into that neutral, cold look. He threw the dying man to the ground, and slowly wiped
away the blood splatters that had landed onto his hands.
Although the man was close to death, he still held some dredges of hope for survival within him, so
hidden amidst his murky eyes was a manic glint.
Xue Xian recalled what the man had been blabbering about earlier and said coolly, "What are you
doing here? If you're frank with me now, I might let you live another shichen. It will only take me a
while to figure it out on my own, but if you're stubborn enough to make me have to do it myself,
then I’ll kill you before a shichen passes.”
The man curled on the floor launched into another coughing fit, wheezing and hacking so hard that
Xue Xian thought he might die right there –– and wondered whether the man had even heard what
he'd said.
As Xue Xian had suspected, the man did not seem to have any intention of replying to him. Or
perhaps he was simply too out of breath.
Xue Xian was not surprised by this –– he was spinning silk out of the thoughts in his mind, trying to
understand what this dying man was so desperately hiding, and what that sliver of hope was that
was keeping him alive...
What do dying people hope for? For someone to come save them, or to escape death by some other
means.
The former was unlikely to happen in this situation –– even if someone did come, they still had to
go through Xue Xian to get to the man, and with all those obstacles, the man was likely to die
before he was even saved.
And the latter was an utter fairytale. This man might not even survive being saved by a friend, let
alone saving himself. If he kept lying there, he would die any second now, and there was no hope
for survival. Unless...
Unless he found some special way to extend his own lifespan.
Xue Xian's face hardened: It really seemed that this man intended to add to his lifespan.
Each person has their own lifespan. If you were already about to step into the afterlife, it was not
possible to just tack on a few more years for free. The art of life extension consisted of two
categories: life exchange and life binding. In the former, you switched out another person's lifespan
with your own, and ultimately, someone still had to die for the transaction to succeed. In the
latter, you bound your lifespan to that of another. That way, the two of you were bound in life ––
and in death.
Initially, the former sounded more evil and the latter sounded quite harmless. In reality, it was the
opposite: the former used years to buy years, and the latter used fortune to buy years. In life
exchange, the only stakes were the years of your lifespan. But in life binding, you not only had to
share your fortunes, but also your misfortunes. Life binding had far more potential to go horribly
wrong.
Six of one and half a dozen of the other [a] –– the two methods were the same, really.
If the man planned to extend his lifespan, then there had to be someone with whom he could
exchange his life with, or bind his life to.
And this matched up with the nonsense he'd been spluttering earlier: he'd lost one, but still had
three.
As Xue Xian realised this, dark clouds passed over his mind.
He hated to owe anything to anyone, least of all kindness. This trait was both a good and bad thing:
the good part was that he led a clean and clear life of no debts at all, in which he was not forcibly
connected or entangled with anyone else; but the bad part was he never actually became close to
anyone.
Of course, this was only bad to normal people; to Xue Xian, it was exactly how he liked it.
Putting aside definitions of closeness, Xue Xian had brought Lu Nianqi and Stone Zhang here, and
thus they were ‘his people’. [b] And then there was Xuanmin.
For anyone to wish harm on people around Xue Xian... That person must have a death wish.
Xue Xian's eyes swivelled as he recalled the sound that he'd heard when he'd escaped the Heart
Demons spell –– it had sounded like a small pearl rolling onto the floor. It had been much lighter
than a marble made of silver, gold, or amber, but not as brittle...
That thing was most likely the key to the life extension spell.
Time was of the essence. Xue Xian didn't have the patience to wait for the piece of shit [c] on the
floor to tell him everything of his own accord.
He remembered what Stone Zhang had said back when they'd first met: this man had taken him to a
mountain, and had made him carve seven stone locks and two tomb guardians...
“Let me ask you this," Xue Xian said now as he gripped the man's neck and held him up again. "Do
you know about Gravestone Island, on the river in Wolong County? There is a tomb beneath that
island, and inside that tomb there are three hundred lost souls that cannot rest. Do you think that
if the souls trapped in that tomb met you, they would recognise you?"
The wheezing man suddenly convulsed. It was as though — now that he stood in front of death's
door — his own sins filled him with dread.
The man breathed a heavy sigh, seemingly remembering something, and then weakly said, "I..."
"Now you want to tell me? Sorry, I don't want to hear it anymore," Xue Xian interrupted. Tilting his
head, he said, "I'm just confirming. I'm thinking about how to make you pay."
He flipped his other hand over, and those scratched-out dog tags appeared in his palm. He said,
"Trapped innocent souls are full of resentful energy. Although they have now been buried, they will
not begin to fade until at least another eight or ten years. Especially... when they see those that
harmed them."
Xue Xian lowered his voice, then twitched his index finger again. A crimson scratch wound
appeared on the dying man's forehead. The man suddenly jolted awake, as though he were coming
back to life.
"Pain is better felt when lucid," Xue Xian said. He casually tossed the dog tags onto the man's body.
The dog tags were only thumb-sized flakes of metal, and the ones that Xue Xian had collected from
the bottom of the river only added up to about twenty or thirty in all. He threw them out very
easily and they fell lightly onto the man, but the man reacted as though he had been pinned down
by the weight of five mountains. His entire body became rigid and he lay sprawled on the ground,
struggling against the weight, yet ultimately unable to budge.
Next, he seemed to see something. His eyes bulged out, and he began to scream.
"Aaaahhhhhhh ––– ! Go away! Get away from me!" The man appeared overwhelmed with terror and
began to shake again, crying and wailing for mercy. He seemed to have gone insane instantly.
"Please! Please, please, please –– Ask me anything –– ah –– go away –– make them go away ––"
Perhaps the man's cries were particularly grating and harrowing –– Stone Zhang and Lu Nianqi, who
had been lying unconscious on the floor, suddenly spasmed, as though dreaming about falling. Their
legs kicked out and they came to.
Pata––
Again there was that sound of something clattering to the floor. This time, it made two separate
sounds.
Stone Zhang took huge gulping breaths, as though having awoken from a bad dream. His eyes
bulging, he stared into space, dazed, for a long time before coming back to his senses. "What is it?"
he breathed. "What just happened? How could I fall asleep here?"
He looked over at Lu Nianqi, the stubborn, detached boy who was nonetheless reliable when things
became difficult. Lu Nianqi was just waking up too, and Stone Zhang became even more confused.
"Hey, Xiao-Qi, [d] did you dream too? What did you dream about?"
Lu Nianqi looked ghastly pale and seemed still to be in the throes of his vision. After a long pause,
he finally said in a low voice, "I saw Shijiu. But he looked different––"
"Ahhhh! I'm begging you, I'm begging you, please––"
Before Lu Nianqi could finish, he was interrupted by the wailing man. The melancholy feeling Lu
Nianqi had brought out with him from the vision seemed to dissipate a little, and he brusquely
asked Xue Xian, "What is wrong with this person?"
Xue Xian frowned as he glanced at the still unconscious Xuanmin. Then he looked back at the man
on the floor and hooked his finger. "I'll let you take a break. I'm asking you again: What did you do?"
As the prickling pain of a hundred ants gnawing at his heart disappeared momentarily, the sobbing
man curled up on the floor, took a few deep breaths, and said, "I can't die... I can't die... I used a
Tongshou Spider… [e] I put it in the array..."
He was talking absolute gibberish, but Xue Xian understood.
Tongshou Spider?
"How do you break the array?" Xue Xian yelled.
"The array breaks the spider... The spider dies... The array doesn't break..." The man blinked open
his eyes and looked over weakly at Xuanmin. "I only need one second... Pierce the skin... Dr-draw
blood..."
As he spoke, Xue Xian had already begun searching Xuanmin's body, frowning.
"All you need is a drop of blood… And then..."
Found it!
Xue Xian thought he could see a hidden dot of red on the side of Xuanmin's neck. There was no time
to spare –– he pulled away Xuanmin’s collar and automatically moved closer to that wound spewing
dark blood...
"You can't draw it out. Once it's gone into his body, it can never come out," the man said. Perhaps it
was because he was still energised by that flick to his forehead earlier, but as the man recovered,
he seemed slightly less frail than he'd been before. Now, he could even speak in full sentences.
The man's eyes gleamed as he stared at Xuanmin's neck, and Xue Xian with his face pressed hard
against Xuanmin’s skin. There was a unique manic feeling to the man's darting gaze. He mumbled,
"It's over... It's useless. I've succeeded. Once spider legs creep out of the wound, I can live again."
He sighed with pleasure as he looked down at his own hands, which seemed to be coming back
alive.
Frowning, Xue Xian lifted his head and spat out the taste of blood from his mouth. Although the
patch of Xuanmin's skin was growing dark red from Xue Xian’s attempt to suck the blood out, the
wound itself was completely intact. In fact, it even looked as though it were getting larger –– was
this what the man was saying about the spider's legs?
But as thin blood vessels really did begin to creep out of the wound, Xue Xian froze.
This was familiar...
With one hand behind Xuanmin's neck to support it, Xue Xian looked up at the red mole located
between the monk's neck and lower jaw. Every time Xuanmin had a bout of amnesia, that mole
would also extend out into a network of blood vessels–– exactly like the Tongshou Spider!
At that moment, the new spider mole that had attached itself to Xuanmin's neck grew two long,
veiny legs, then froze. Suddenly, its legs retracted, and, in the blink of an eye, the entire wound
was gone.
Before Xue Xian could register what had just happened, he felt Xuanmin's body beneath his stir.
"You're awake?" Xue Xian asked as Xuanmin's eyes blinked open.
For a moment, Xuanmin seemed to raise his hand.
"We walked right into a trap. Heart Demons," Xue Xian said. He remembered his vision, and a
complicated expression crossed his face. He didn't even notice Xuanmin gently raise his hand, then
let it fall back to his side.
Xuanmin closed his eyes for some time, then suddenly opened them again –– now he was fully
awake.
Next, he looked slowly over at Xue Xian.
Xue Xian was confused by the look, but then remembered that his positioning was a little
ambiguous. Not only that, but that red patch of sucked skin on Xuanmin's neck was a clear
indication of what Xue Xian had just been doing.
Xuanmin: “…”
Xue Xian: “…………” No, I can explain.
Chapter 65: Tongshou Spider (V)
The wound made by the fucking Tongshou Spider had left no trace at all, so how the hell was Xue
Xian supposed to explain?!
It didn’t matter what Xue Xian said. With Xuanmin’s personality, Xuanmin would definitely show no
reaction at all. Perhaps, keeping in mind Xue Xian's poor dignity, he might simply turn away and
pretend that nothing had happened. As for what the bald donkey was really thinking, Xue Xian had
no idea.
When you looked at it this way, there was very little difference between explaining and not
explaining.
Besides... The bald donkey had experienced his own hallucinations while trapped in the Heart
Demons array. What was there to explain? So Xue Xian gave him a hickey. It wasn't like he could
take it back, so who cares!!
A series of complex emotions crossed Xue Xian's face. In the end, he decided to throw away the last
shreds of his dignity and pretend that nothing had happened at all. He sat up and glared
suspiciously at Xuanmin. "What are you looking at?" he demanded.
Xuanmin's body was still hot with fever, which made that cold, damp part of his neck especially
obvious. Although Xuanmin had not been awake to see the process, as his hand shot to his neck, he
immediately found the mark that Xue Xian had made. Xue Xian didn’t want to see the look that was
about to cross Xuanmin’s face, so he turned away with guilt and forced himself to act neutral. Then
Xue Xian looked at the man still curled up on the floor and sneered, "Didn't you say you'd
succeeded? How does it feel? How is it that no matter how hard I look, you don't seem to have come
back to life at all?"
The man muttered manically, "I'm alive, I really can live... I can live now... Look, I can even curl
my fingers..."
As he said this, he made a fist with his hand. He really did seem stronger than before.
But Xue Xian beat him down in one sentence.
"Stop showing off those chicken claws of yours. Where do you think that strength comes from? The
Tongshou Spider?" He laughed coldly, then added, "It's just that I had some more questions for you,
so I'm keeping you lucid in order to torture you better. Look––"
Xue Xian tugged lightly at Xuanmin's collar and said, "That blood stain of yours is gone. Spider's
legs? In your dreams. If you'd really succeeded, you would not be sprawled on the floor like that.”
At first, the man seemed not to believe Xue Xian, but with that final line, the man had no choice
but to accept the fact.
Indeed, if he'd really succeeded, would there be such a difference between his physical state and
Xuanmin’s?
The man stared at the floor rigidly, stunned. He had truly fallen apart.
"Looks like your spider isn't even as effective as me twitching one of my fingers," Xue Xian said
coldly.
Hearing this, the man suddenly stopped sobbing and seemed to see things clearly again. He
hurriedly crawled over to the table and clutched Xue Xian's ankles, saying, "Save me, I'm begging
you. Save me... I can't die. I shouldn't die! I... I should get merit. [a] I deserve to live. How can I
die?"
Xue Xian was revolted at the thought of being touched by such a lowlife, but he had no feeling in
his legs, and could not even kick the man away.
"Bald donkey, could you––" Xue Xian paused to correct himself and say Xuanmin instead. But he
suddenly remembered that he was still supposed to be feeling embarrassed, so decided to simply
shut up.
Grimacing, Xue Xian decided to tolerate the man. At this moment, Xuanmin made a move.
He raised his hand and waved it at the man. Suddenly, a powerful force swatted the man away
from Xue Xian's legs. The man skittered about a zhang away, and then, another invisible force
grabbed hold of Xue Xian's swinging legs and arranged them onto the desk.
Xue Xian stared at his own legs, stunned, then realised: I can do that too. Why did I forget that at
the key moment? Am I dumb?
He decided that his momentary stupidity had been caused by the confusion from the Heart Demons,
which had harmed his brain.
But this wasn't the time to think about such things -– there were urgent matters at hand. Xue Xian
gestured at the man on the floor with his chin and asked, "What did you say just now? You have
merit? Why don't you ask those dog tags if they agree? You trapped three hundred innocent souls at
the bottom of a tomb, and because of you, they can never transcend. How dare you speak of
merit?"
"You… Daren [b], you don't know the whole story––" In order to survive, the man who had just tried
to murder them all was now addressing Xue Xian as Daren. It gave Xue Xian a headache. "You don't
know the whole story. The part of the river that belongs to Wolong County has not been peaceful
for recent years. Great waves and whirlpools would not stop appearing, which made it difficult for
boats to manoeuvre. We feared that one day a flood would come and submerge both sides of the
river, killing hundreds of people. I found out that a terrible catastrophe would soon visit Wolong, so
I cast a 'Hundred Soldiers Push the Flow' design in order to avert the disaster."
Then the man raised his head to look into Xue Xian's eyes and patted his own chest. "I saved a
hundred, a thousand, ten thousand people. That is a huge act of kindness. Does that not make
merit? I shouldn't die. I should live. If I live, I can save even more lives. How can I die? How can I
die when all the worthless people that I saved out there get to survive?"
As the group listened to the man ramble, they fell into silence. Xuanmin's eyes moved slightly, as
though he had suddenly remembered something, but he quickly settled his face and gazed back at
the remorseless man on the ground.
Xue Xian fell deep in thought too, then finally snorted out a cold, nasal laugh. "Why should you
die?" he repeated. "Let me ask you this. Did the great flood ever occur?"
"I-it's coming, in spring or summer of next year," the man said. "The fortune-teller who told me this
was a highly powerful master. [c] He has never been wrong."
The man had thought that Xue Xian had been asking whether the prediction was accurate, so had
begun to refute this. But Xue Xian interrupted him and snapped, "I don't care if it was accurate. I'm
asking you: Did the flood occur? Did thousands of people die?"
"Not yet," the man said, shaking his head. "But––"
"But people have already died." Xue Xian held up three fingers. "Three hundred people. The flood
never came, but three hundred souls died under your hand. Not only did you disallow them leading
peaceful, long lives, but even after death, you wouldn't leave them alone. Did you ever ask them
what they wanted? Did they ever agree to be part of your 'Hundred Soldiers Push the Flow' array?"
"There's always a price to pay when you change fate. Three hundred lives for the lives of tens of
thousands––"
"And that makes the bargain fair?" Xue Xian said coldly. "Are humans like melons and dates to you?
You can measure them by the jin and the liang?"
"…I-I understand." The man seemed to think that what he’d done had been kind. "I deliberated for a
long time. In the end, I chose people like beggars and retired soldiers. All beggars do is sit by the
street and beg for food. With the extreme weather in winter and summer, they frequently die after
just one night. To most people, they're just eyesores. As for the soldiers, they only had half a life
anyway. They'd already wasted their lives on the battlefield, and had only retired because they
were now missing arms or legs. Even if they had returned home, they would only have become
burdens."
Xue Xian laughed in loathing. "I think you're the burden. Look at you now –– a piece of rotting meat
that can't even move. You're on the verge of death. Hear me out here: I want to create a feng shui
design. It doesn’t require much sacrifice, only one life. Will you let me use yours? Perhaps eighty
years later, you'd be able to help save hundreds of thousands of people."
The man: “...”
Xue Xian did not have the extra heart to save the life of such a man as this, let alone help him
transcend after death. So why was he wasting his time talking to the man? Because... to die
without admitting any of your mistakes was basically another way of getting away with it scot free.
Xue Xian wanted the man to die with regret, and the knowledge that he could never make up for
his sins.
But before the man died, Xue Xian still had questions.
"Let me ask you this: the dragon bones you buried beneath the tomb. Where did you get them
from?" Xue Xian said.
"A master [c] gifted them to me. He said the dragon bones could multiply the magical effect of the
array," the man said uneasily.
Xue Xian was getting impatient. "I hate people who can't get to the point! Why don't I send you to
meet Yama in hell right now?"
"No, no, no! I'll tell you... The master is a geomancer… [d] I was his follower for many years. I was
born with affinity. [e] The blood that flows out of me is more effective for spells than normal human
blood. The master taught me a lot... I followed him from the age of eight or nine, and studied with
him for more than ten years. He was my shifu, but he wouldn't let me call him that. He gave me an
ornament made of peach wood to hang on my hip, which signified that I'd been his disciple. Even
after I left his care, we kept in touch. He was the one who told me about the great disaster coming
to the Wolong river, and he hired men to help me cast the 'Hundred Soldiers Push the Flow' design."
Geomancer? Another geomancer?
Xue Xian couldn't help but recall the geomancer that Liu-shiye had mentioned. Now it seemed that
these two may be the same person, since he’d provided parts of Xue Xian’s dragon body to both
Liu-shiye and this man. It was likely that this geomancer was the person Xue Xian was looking for!
Xue Xian said, "You wanted to create an array, so you killed three hundred people. You wanted to
carve tomb guardians, so you kidnapped a stonemason. You wanted the design to be more
effective, so you buried a dragon bone... It seems that you and your shifu are the same. You’re
both despicable." He laughed coldly. "What is your shifu's name?"
"I-if you can let me live a few more years––" the man stammered. He had realised that Xue Xian's
true target was his shifu, and thought that he could use this fact to bargain for his own life.
But before the man could finish his sentence, Xue Xian swept his arm and a strong wind knocked
the man back into the wall. "So don't tell me,” Xue Xian said. “I can find him even without knowing
his name!"
The man screamed, "Songyun! His Daoist name is Songyun!"
[f]
Now Xue Xian had finished asking the questions he'd needed to ask. He wanted to kill the man, but
Xuanmin pushed his hand away before he could act.
"What is it?" Xue Xian asked.
"I have questions," Xuanmin replied.
Xuanmin looked down at the man and asked, "Have you seen me before?"
Hearing this, Stone Zhang, Lu Nianqi, and even Xue Xian held their breaths.
The man had had the wind knocked out of him by Xue Xian's strike, and was shaking with terror on
the floor. He stared up at Xuanmin for a long time until he could clearly see Xuanmin’s face, then
finally shook his head and said, "N-no."
Xuanmin frowned. "Then why would you come here to hide?"
The man said, "My shifu divined that I would soon die. He said that if I came in this direction to
hide, I would be able to find a way to reverse my fortune. As I stood outside the fog, I heard a
crow's cry inside the forest, so I took an antidote pill and came inside. A black bird saw that I was
covered in blood, and brought me here.
Xue Xian: “...” This bald donkey's bird needs to learn about stranger danger… [g]
One thing was fortunate. Having heard the man's explanation, Xue Xian could finally relax: the man
and Xuanmin were not acquaintances.
And as Xue Xian relaxed, another thought occurred to him. He glanced at the side of Xuanmin's
neck and said, "Your Tongshou Spider. Where did you get it from? Also your geomancer shifu?"
The man could not predict Xue Xian's mood, so stopped trying to bargain. Obediently, he replied,
"Indeed... He said he got it in Langzhou."
"Langzhou..." Xue Xian repeated. Suddenly, he picked up the book that Xuanmin had put on the
desk and began to flip through it until he found the annotation that Xuanmin had pointed out –– Xia
Mountain, Langzhou. Besides, this book wasn't the first place they’d encountered that place name.
When they'd had their conversation back in the inn, Xuanmin had told Xue Xian that when he'd
woken up, it had been on a mountain in Langzhou.
Could it be that, before he'd lost his memory, Xuanmin had discovered the Tongshou Spider bite, as
well as some way of breaking the spell, and the clues had led him to Langzhou?
Xue Xian was glad to know that they hadn't come all this way to Boji Mountain for nothing. Before,
all the clues they had had been in bits and pieces, but now things were coming together. Every
single clue pointed to a single person –– the geomancer. And everything to do with Xuanmin pointed
to one place –– Langzhou.
Now that he knew this, Xue Xian didn't see a reason to delay. He raised his hand and curled his
fingers into a fist in the direction of the man. The resentful souls bound to the dog tags began to
surround the man again.
"Ahhh–––" the man screamed.
Xue Xian watched him, expressionless, then hooked one finger. A wisp of white smoke escaped from
the man's forehead as the lucidity that Xue Xian had granted him earlier dissipated. The man
sobbed as he felt the energy leave his body and felt himself be heaved closer to death.
As the resentful soldiers consumed him and the man felt the last of his life fade away, he continued
to wail: half with regret, half with bitterness. He opened his mouth and used the last of his breath
to croak, "If it were you, you would... You would..."
His words had no head nor tail, and were barely louder than a whisper, but Xue Xian heard him ––
and he understood exactly what he meant.
If it were you, knowing that a great disaster would come, what would you do? After all, if you
wanted to change fate, you had to pay a price...
Xue Xian glared at the man. He'd intended to respond, but a man such as this walked a
fundamentally different path to Xue Xian. Even if Xue Xian did tell him what he thought, the man
wouldn't understand. It was a waste of breath.
So Xue Xian said nothing, even as the man died. Afterwards, all he did was summon the dog tags
from the cold body back into his hands and tuck them into his sleeve once more. Then he turned to
Xuanmin and extended his arms. "Can you ask your bird to flap again, and lift us up from here?"
The gesture Xue Xian was making had only one meaning –– Carry me. Yet his tone and attitude was
that of someone demanding the repayment of a debt.
Xuanmin looked at Xue Xian silently. For some reason, he seemed to falter. Then he walked over
and took Xue Xian into his arms, lifting him from the table.
At first, Xue Xian was puzzled. Up until now, the bald donkey had carried him as nonchalantly as if
he'd been carrying a sack of food, to the point where even Xue Xian had become used to this
treatment. Why had Xuanmin suddenly hesitated? Had something happened in Xuanmin’s Heart
Demons vision to make him dislike Xue Xian now?
But as soon as he found himself in Xuanmin's arms again, Xue Xian realised what was wrong––
Xuanmin's body temperature was even hotter than before, and the sweltering heat made even Xue
Xian uncomfortable. Xuanmin's palms, which he had previously been able to keep cold, were now
burning up too.
And why was this? Because when Xue Xian had sucked on Xuanmin's neck, he had given him yet
another dose of dragon spit.
Xue Xian: “...” How are we supposed to go on like this?
Chapter 66: Dog Tag (I)
One dose of dragon spit was enough to take down an ordinary person. To Xuanmin, it had merely
been an annoyance that he had easily been able to repress. Two doses of dragon spit meant double
the power: ordinary people would be driven crazy by it, and even Xuanmin had sweated bucketfuls
last night.
Now it had increased to three doses...
Although Xue Xian could not imagine what it felt like, he figured that ordinary people would not be
able to handle three doses at all. It was possible they could die from it. And Xuanmin was now using
all his energy to repress the effects within his body, but it didn't seem sustainable. In the end,
resisting might end up making it worse.
Just Xuanmin’s body temperature was enough to burn someone to death.
Things were now getting far too complicated, and Xue Xian had to figure something out. After all,
the dragon spit had come from him. Xue Xian found a shred of kindness in his heart to begin to
contemplate solutions. Although he did not know what to do, he was certain that no matter what
he did, it could not be in a public place with people milling about –– it needed to be somewhere
with no distractions or obstacles. After all, the situation was highly awkward and needed to stay
confidential.
After pondering this, Xue Xian said to Xuanmin, "Since this building is connected to your past, don't
you want to search it more thoroughly and see if you can find any clues?"
Of course Xuanmin intended to do that. He made a noise of agreement.
Now Xue Xian turned to Stone Zhang and Lu Nianqi. "So as not to make Jiang Shining worry, the two
of you should head back now. The bald donkey and I will go through the building with a fine comb."
Since Lu Nianqi could barely see, he had no objections, but Stone Zhang hesitated for a bit. He
wanted to stay and help: although this was technically a ‘small building’, there were still many
rooms to go through. But then he decided that these two wise zuzongs were always right, so he did
not protest. He nodded and said, "Alright. The two of us will go back to the Fang compound."
Without the fog, the road out of the forest was clear and straightforward, and they were not too
far from the Fangs'. Still, based on Stone Zhang and Lu Nianqi's pace, if they left now, it would be
nightfall by the time they reached the Fang compound.
Fearing that they might miss the city’s curfew, the two delayed no further, and departed.
By the time they left, Xuanmin had already put Xue Xian back into the wheelchair outside the
building. Xue Xian watched their silhouettes disappear into the forest and suddenly heard Xuanmin's
voice behind him say, "Speak."
He turned around. "Mn?"
"You made them leave on purpose," Xuanmin said, gesturing toward the road.
Was it that obvious? Xue Xian scratched his face and avoided Xuanmin's gaze, looking out onto the
road too. Finally, he said vaguely, "It's my fault."
Xuanmin did not understand, and looked at him with puzzlement.
Xue Xian crossed his arms and scratched his elbows. Then he jutted his chin out at Xuanmin's neck
and said, "Dragon spit."
Xuanmin was momentarily stunned by Xue Xian willingly owning up to his mistake. Then, with a
face of exasperation, he looked Xue Xian up and down before sweeping his robe and turning away.
Walking back into the room, he said, "It's nothing."
“...” Xue Xian snapped, "As if! Your skin is hotter than a stove, and you have the audacity to tell
me it's nothing?"
The effects of dragon spit multiplied threefold –– even Xuanmin could not bear it. How could it
really be nothing? Xuanmin was simply used to repressing himself in every way, and was trying to
treat it like ordinary pain.
Xue Xian wanted to say more, but, inside the room, Xuanmin summoned the crow again. The bird
went hurtling toward the corner of the ceiling, and the floor beneath Xuanmin trembled, bringing
him back down into the stone room below.
After some time, Xuanmin re-emerged with the now-dead man. He raised his hand and retrieved
something from the man's hip, then carried him outside. Because Xuanmin hated touching others,
he was using talismanic power to lightly levitate the man's body beside him. Xuanmin went into the
vast forest beyond and found a place to bury the man.
When he returned to the building, Xuanmin drew another talisman and magically cleaned the entire
room as well as his own clothing.
Xue Xian: “...” Your robe didn't even touch the guy!
Xuanmin performed every action with that neutral, unperturbed expression on his face the whole
time. Xue Xian sat there, watching him walk back and forth. It was only when the entire building
was completely cleansed of any pollution from the man that Xuanmin finally came back over to
stand in front of Xue Xian.
"Let's go in," Xuanmin said mildly, lifting Xue Xian back into his arms and walking into the room. He
placed Xue Xian back onto the desk, though the surface of the desk was now spotless.
Xue Xian sighed when he saw this. This bald donkey is obsessed!
They intended to hunt for clues, so naturally, they could not merely do a superficial search.
Xuanmin walked to the bookcase and extracted a book. He wasn’t trying to ignore Xue Xian: he
stacked two books onto the desk beside Xue Xian, and returned to look through some more books
himself.
The meaning was clear: Xuanmin was giving permission for Xue Xian to help him read the books for
clues.
Xue Xian was pleased that Xuanmin was able to so absent-mindedly fold him into his interior world,
without any hint of caution or guardedness. Xue Xian picked up one of the books and began to flip
through it, but as he flipped the pages, he found that his heart wasn't in it.
Because he was still thinking about the dragon spit.
It seemed that Xuanmin had decided to simply repress all inconvenient feelings inside his body,
without letting any trace of them leak out. As Xuanmin flipped the pages of his book, his fingers
were steady and slow, looking through each and every page with precision and revealing no hint of
his discomfort at all.
Xue Xian tried to focus on the book in his hands, but his gaze soon fell on Xuanmin again.
Contemplatively, he reached out to quickly feel the temperature of Xuanmin's hands before darting
away again.
Xuanmin's fingers were scorching hot.
“...” Finally, Xue Xian unexpectedly said, "Let me help you."
Xuanmin's full attention was still on the pages, so he merely made a noise of agreement to Xue
Xian's words. His gaze did not lift at all from the book, nor did the hands that were flipping the
pages stop moving. He had clearly not understood what Xue Xian had been vaguely hinting at, and
had probably assumed that Xue Xian had simply meant he'd help Xuanmin look through the books.
Xue Xian had already begun to speak, and there was no way of going back now. So he forged ahead
and added, "I mean the dragon spit."
Xuanmin’s hands froze.
Ever since he'd been given two doses of dragon spit from the niezhang, Xuanmin had tried his best
to avoid being too close to Xue Xian. Apart from the fact that the niezhang could not walk, and
therefore Xuanmin had no choice but to help him, he tried to stay as far away from Xue Xian as
possible.
For example, right now, he had given Xue Xian some books and, instead of staying next to Xue Xian,
he had gone a bit farther away to stand in front of the bookcase.
If anyone else did this, the meaning behind it would be far too obvious. But, coming from Xuanmin,
there was little to read into, as he'd always been the kind of person who hated to be close to
others. Xue Xian had detected this sense of distance nonetheless, and it was partly why he was in
such a hurry to cure Xuanmin from the effects of dragon spit –– so that Xuanmin could stop avoiding
him as though avoiding a ghost.
Xue Xian absent-mindedly flipped a single page back and forth as he repeated, "Let me help you."
Xuanmin was silent for a while, then turned to him and asked, "How?"
His demeanor was still cool and collected, with no hint of doubt at all –– he'd taken Xue Xian to
mean that there was a normal cure to the effects of the spit, just as all poisons had an antidote.
Xue Xian winced and bit down on his tongue, wondering how to say it. Finally, he cleared his throat
and said, "Do you know what folk say when they know a flood is imminent? It is better to let it run
than to try and block it. How did you become a monk? In those images from your youth, do you
remember if you had some kind of supervisor... A master? Was the monastic discipline strict? Don't
they say something like, Alcohol and meat will pass through and leave your body, but the Buddha
will always remember that you ingested it. So if you break your discipline just once, it will be bad.
If you didn't have a master..."
It took a rare patience for Xue Xian to cushion the fall with all that preamble –– and he wasn't sure
whether he was trying to convince himself or convince Xuanmin. But the atmosphere in the room
remained unchanged, so that, as Xue Xian spoke, he became less and less sure of himself, and
eventually trailed off.
Xuanmin: “...”
Xue Xian: “...”
They looked at each other. Although their faces were both blank and calm, very un-peaceful
feelings brimmed beneath their forcibly neutral exteriors.
Xue Xian was getting annoyed again. He slammed the book he'd been holding onto the table, where
it landed and flipped shut with a loud splat. "It's up to you," he snapped. "Do you want me to help?
Mn?"
Xuanmin broke eye contact and looked down, resuming his page-flipping as though he'd not even
heard what Xue Xian had said. Next, he seemed to suddenly remember something, and dug around
in his pouch, then swished his sleeve.
And stuck a talisman onto Xue Xian's forehead.
"I––" Xue Xian forced himself to swallow down the curses. With the talisman freezing his
movements, there was nothing he could do, and it took all of his effort to repress the anger and
frustration that had swelled inside him. Were it not for the fact that he'd been the cause of all this
trouble, he would long have fainted from rage. "Alright, alright, I give up. But I wouldn't freeze me
if I were you –– I’m the one who has to go dig your grave later."
The grave part wasn't a threat. The effects of dragon-spit were long-term and took some time to
fully emerge in someone's body. If Xue Xian remembered correctly, last time, it had taken Xuanmin
until nighttime to begin burning up. The effects of the third dose hadn't seemed to have appeared
yet, but the bald donkey was already behaving this way. Once the dose fully entered Xuanmin’s
body, if he kept trying to force it down like this, something was bound to go wrong, and he'd likely
die.
It was only now that Xue Xian had been restrained that Xuanmin spoke. "No need," he said.
Fuck your 'no need'.
Furious, Xue Xian ignored him. But Xuanmin added, "If you have nothing else to do right now, you
may borrow my pendant to do some healing."
Fuck your 'healing'.
Every time Xuanmin spoke, Xue Xian felt increasingly angry and wanted to talk back. But this bald
donkey was untouchable, and nothing Xue Xian said could have any effect on him at all –– all Xue
Xian would probably achieve by cussing Xuanmin out would be to make himself even madder. So
Xue Xian grumbled to himself, Fine, then die. But he nonetheless closed his eyes and began to
focus on mending more of his body, shutting himself off from the world.
Xuanmin's pendant really was very useful. It did not seem to have any side effects apart from the
fact that, if Xue Xian used it too long, it would start to create some kind of spiritual connection
between him and Xuanmin. Xue Xian was happy to use the reliable pendant to speed up his healing.
So he soon fell into a meditative state, and heard nothing of the outside world.
Last time, it had taken Xue Xian the whole night to get those golden threads inside him to grow by
half. This time, for some reason, the golden threads mended themselves much faster.
And the pendant was extremely intuitive to use, as if it had already begun to recognise him as some
kind of second master. Perhaps it was because Xuanmin had absorbed dragon spit, so that the two
of them had begun, to some extent, to influence each other's qi pathways.
Xue Xian thought he could even feel the golden threads inside his body pulling themselves toward
the next bit of broken bone. Every step of the process was exhausting, but with each small portion
completed, he would feel a sense of relief and comfort.
But at the same time, Xue Xian could feel some other sensation creeping into him, as though mixed
into the spiritual power of the copper coins themselves. The strange feeling followed the growth of
the threads and slowly extended its way across Xue Xian’s body.
It was a hot, damp, and slightly sour feeling, which made him feel anxious and restless, as though
ants were running all along his skin and sinking their teeth into him –– and yet it was not painful.
Xue Xian forced himself to ignore the discomfort and tried to focus all of his attention on mending
the threads.
A little bit more...
No, it's too hot...
But there's only about a cun left...
Oh fuck, it's so hot...
Xue Xian oscillated between confusion and focus amid the sweltering heat. Finally, just as all the
simmering sensations were about to reach a breaking point, he managed to tug those threads across
his body and hook them onto that broken piece of bone on the other side. At that moment, the
path of his spine was cleared, from the top of his neck to the part of his pelvis that joined up with
his legs. A rush of heat followed the golden threads that had replaced those missing parts of his
spine and began to warm his thighs and calves...
He'd succeeded...
The tension in Xue Xian’s heart suddenly vanished. He felt as though half of all of his worries were
instantly lifted from his mind. But it would have been best if Xue Xian had not relaxed: as soon as
he did, he felt that ant-like feeling suddenly pour back into him with a vengeance, flooding him
with a new, strange sense of unease.
Xue Xian heard himself breathe a heavy sigh. As his senses of hearing and touch returned to him, he
found that he was soaked in his own sweat. His sense of touch seemed to have become uncannily
sharp, sharp to the point that... even the slightest movement that caused the folds in his robe to
rub gently against his skin gave him an acute sense of stimulation, making him sweat even more.
Confused, he faltered, and before he was even able to process the gratitude and joy he felt from
getting his legs back, another thought exploded across his mind, paralysing him––
The effects of the dragon spit seemed to have... Because of the connection established by the
pendant... Been sent right back into his own body...
In that moment, Xue Xian had only four thoughts:
Picking up a stone to crush your own foot.
Karma.
When you hurt others, ultimately it will come back to hurt you.
Who in the world can bear this horrible feeling?!
Chapter 67: Dog Tag (II)
Outside, while they weren’t paying attention, the sky had long turned to a deep blue. For once, the
night was not windy, and the entire vast forest within the mountain hollow stood absolutely still,
without even the soft noise of leaves rustling against each other. The world was full of an eerie
calm.
The black bird, which really did seem to belong to Xuanmin, had flown out of the room as soon as
the sun had set, and was now perched somewhere inside the dark forest, every once in a while
crying out in an idle manner.
But the bird's cry did not sound like a normal caw –– instead, it was far closer to a human sigh. Its
echoing sighs made the night seem gloomy, as though it was haunted, which explained why all
those rumors about Boji Mountain had proliferated.
The bird's sighs resonated within the mountain hollow, sounding much louder and nearer than they
really were.
The poisonous fog that Xue Xian had blown away that day reappeared with the night, gliding at a
deceptively slow pace across the hollow. Soon, it had become a dense blanket around the forest
again.
This fog was far heavier than normal fog, white and soupy like a block of congealed fat. In no time,
it had swallowed everything, so that anyone trying to walk through it would not even be able to see
their own five fingers in front of them. If two people stood next to each other, they would only be
able to hear one another, and not see anything.
Thankfully Stone Zhang and Lu Nianqi had left early, for if they'd encountered such a fog on their
journey, they would be lucky to survive.
Unlike them, Xue Xian and Xuanmin did not fear the fog. Earlier, when they’d arrived at the
mountain and dissipated the fog, had been more out of consideration for the other two. Xue Xian
and Xuanmin had their own ways of avoiding the effects of poison, so their bodies did not, in
reality, feel the effects of the fog at all.
As the fog crept in again, it felt far denser than it had been before Xue Xian had repelled it. Now,
even the bamboo building could not escape it: the fog slithered in through the gaps in the windows
and filled every floor with blinding whiteness, as well as a chilling cold air.
Yet, amid the freezing chill, Xue Xian was so hot that he was sweating all over.
He frowned and tugged at his robes. The sleeves that he'd folded up earlier came loose and swayed
off his thin frame.
Because he was wearing all black, it was impossible for anyone else to tell, but Xue Xian was
completely drenched in sweat. The thin cloth of his robe, laden with moisture, stuck uncomfortably
to his back and arms, but hung off him from the front, so that his open collar revealed a long slice
of flesh along his neck and chest.
Having been half-paralysed for six months, Xue Xian had lost a lot of weight and shed much of the
muscle on his body, so that only a thin, lean layer remained. Now, the clammy sweat made his skin
glow dimly under the lantern light, giving him a renewed air of sturdiness.
He was still sitting on the desk, his two hands gripping its side and his head leaning forward so that
the sweat on his forehead was dipping onto his eyelids. His eyes were half-closed, and the moisture
in his eyelashes blurred everything in his vision.
Xue Xian didn't know how much worse the third dose of dragon spit felt compared to Xuanmin's
feverish state the previous night. He only knew that, right now, he felt unbearably hot, and that his
own sweat was washing across his body in ceaseless waves. He was also much more sensitive than
usual, and could not touch a single cun of his skin or a single hair on his body. Even the sensation of
the sweat seeping out of his pores was enough to stimulate him and make his entire body tremble.
He needed to find a way to direct the heat and the accompanying anxious feeling out of his body,
but he had no idea how. Besides, he was so deeply submerged in the heat that his whole skeleton
felt as though it were swimming in hot sweat, giving him an indescribable bloated sensation. Even
raising his hand from the table had become an almost impossible task.
In Xue Xian’s daze, the sigh of the crow outside became an uncanny whisper in his ear that made
his eardrums itch, which in turn sent more shivers down his body.
He had hoped Xuanmin would come up with an idea. After all, their senses were linked and they
were experiencing the same thing. But Xuanmin insisted on repressing it, whereas Xue Xian saw no
end nor limit to the scorching heat inside him. If it kept on like this, he really would...
Xue Xian squinted. He shook his head, forcing himself to stay awake.
But as he moved, beads of sweat ran down his neck, triggering the tingling nerves in his skin.
Gently, like a dragonfly skidding across the water, the sweat streamed down to his chest.
Xue Xian tightened his grip on the side of the table and took a deep breath –– another wave of
stimulation.
He couldn't remember if he had spoken to Xuanmin. Perhaps he had called out for him once or
twice, or perhaps his voice had become stuck at the bottom of his throat, with no words coming
out.
He did not know how much time had passed. As his eyelids began to flutter shut again, the thick fog
inside the room –– whether controlled by someone or of its own accord –– suddenly grew even
denser. It clouded over even the lantern by Xue Xian’s side, and was so thick that he couldn’t see
the bottom half of his own robes anymore.
The white fog before Xue Xian’s eyes made him even more disoriented. He frowned and took some
more deep, slow breaths, scanning his blurred gaze aimlessly across the floor of the room. His
eyelids, drenched in fine beads of sweat, slowly... slowly... dragged themselves open and shut, yet
never fully closed.
In his ever-deeper daze, Xue Xian thought he could hear Xuanmin speak to him. Xuanmin’s voice
felt both close by and far away at the same time. He was saying, "Give me your hand."
Xue Xian did not know if he had heard Xuanmin correctly, but he automatically loosened the grip of
one of his hands and lethargically pointed it outward. Immediately, his hand was held in the grasp
of another. That hand gripping his was hot to the touch, but strong, and as it held Xue Xian tightly,
he felt as though it had become the only thing keeping him upright.
Slowly, gradually, Xue Xian began to lean into that hand until his entire weight was pressing against
it.
He tightened his own grip and opened his mouth to say something, but in the next instant, no words
came out. Instead, the breath moving in and out of his nose suddenly became heavier. Because
another hand had reached out from the white fog and landed on the curve of his waist.
Xue Xian's eyelids stopped blinking as a shudder passed through them. He froze for a moment, and
then his breath suddenly quickened.
All of that overwhelming heat and anxiety inside him finally found an out. Xue Xian frowned and
loosened his other hand's grip on the table, violently grabbing the hand that rested on his waist and
pulling it closer toward him. As he grasped that second hand, he unconsciously dragged it beneath
his loosely folded robe.
"Don't move," said the person whose hand he'd seized. The fog was too dense, and Xue Xian saw
nothing before him except a white oblivion. He could not see Xuanmin's face, but in that low voice,
Xue Xian could detect a sense of peace — as well as, perhaps because of their shared fever, a slight
huskiness.
But they were already at this stage. Xue Xian had no intention of obeying. He guided that hand
beneath his robes, searching, and as the hand felt hungrily across his body, the thin cloth of his
robe shifted too. The cloth followed the motion of the hand that it was concealing, moving again
and again, urgently and manically, without ever stopping...
The anxiety within Xue Xian was consuming all parts of his body, and his mind was still utterly
blank. He was dimly aware that, at some point, and somehow, the silent person helping him had
pulled him closer, so close that Xue Xian had to pry his knees apart slightly in order to let that
person stand steady between them. So close that, in his daze, as that hand tugged up and down,
Xue Xian thought he could feel the other person react, too.
Yet he still could not see that person’s face –– he could only hear his breathing, so close that their
breaths seemed to tangle themselves together, becoming intertwined.
Somehow, Xue Xian's other hand, the one that held Xue Xian’s own weight, had been clamped down
onto the desk. As his hand moved up and down, the other hand against the table clenched itself
into a fist and let go, over and over. And his forehead was burrowed in the other person's shoulder,
his half-closed eyes still shrouded by the mist.
Xuanmin seemed to tell him not to move again, and then, for some reason, tried to step away, but
Xue Xian held on tightly and would not let him leave.
The discomfort caused by the dragon spit was far worse than experiencing such a state in normal
circumstances, which made it so that it was a long time before that anxious feeling within Xue Xian
began to near its peak. He thought he might make a noise –– he was so close to relief.
When the moment came, Xue Xian’s fingers began to tremble desperately. He himself couldn't
figure out whether this was an urge to ease his own discomfort, or to hold on tighter to Xuanmin's
hand. His entire spine was rigid with tension.
Soon, he burrowed his head further into the crook of Xuanmin's neck and squeezed his eyes shut as
the sense of relief rushed across his body.
Xue Xian remained there, silent and tense for a while, and then slowly began to relax. He was
finally able to breathe again. Another wave of sweat poured down his body, the moisture seeping
through his robe.
Yet dragon spit was too powerful, and not so easily defeated. Soon, that anxiety surged within him
once again...
Everything he could remember about what had happened next had been fragmented by that strange
fog. Looking back at when Xue Xian had used Xuanmin to help himself, Xue Xian could not
remember how long they had tussled, nor if he had bitten Xuanmin’s neck...
But no matter how long it had been, that fog had lingered the whole time, and Xue Xian had not at
all been able to see Xuanmin's face. It was an odd, indescribable feeling, tinged with a slight
awkwardness — so that even Xue Xian, who had up until now been open to everything, felt
flustered.
After a long time, Xue Xian finally felt himself become fully calm. The anxiety within him seemed
to have gone away, leaving a faint impression, which waxed and waned at the bottom of his heart.
But with the dissipating sense of heat, even that was slowly seeping away.
He leant against the desk and let himself wind down. Soon, his restless hands were fiddling with the
lantern again, and as the weak flame inside the lantern grew brighter, that dense fog suddenly
disappeared too, as though it knew.
Xuanmin had summoned the fog on purpose...
Xue Xian thought this, but was too exhausted to say it out loud. When the poisonous fog finally
lifted, he casually scanned the room again and saw that the bottom half of his robe, which he had
lifted away to release heat, had now been gently drawn back in its place. Everything on that once
pristine desk had become a scattered mess. Under the glow of the lamp, Xue Xian could even see
streaks of sweat left behind by their hands having pressed themselves against the table, the prints
damp yet too vague to make out.
Not far from Xue Xian, Xuanmin was kneeling on a prayer mat with his eyes closed, silently
meditating. By his hands were some of the books he'd extracted from the bookshelf, stacked up
neatly. It was as though he had never even left the mat.
Where Xuanmin sat, everything was clean and tidy, in great contrast to the clutter and disarray
around Xue Xian. For a brief moment, Xue Xian had a doubt, and wondered whether all that had
been yet another vision.
He looked down at his own hands: thankfully, his wrists were mottled with bruises in the shape of
another person's tight grasp. If not for this, Xue Xian would really have begun to believe that he'd
experienced more Heart Demons.
Xue Xian gazed at those marks for some time, then raised his head to say to Xuanmin, "Courtesy
demands reciprocity. [a] Come over here and let me give you a hand. If you want, you can bring
back some more mist. No one will be able to see anything. You can pretend it's all a dream."
Xuanmin did not even open his eyes. He paused, then quietly said, "No need. It's been resolved."
Xue Xian was still feeling dazed from his release, so his reflexes were a little slow. "Resolved? How
is that possible? If meditation could cure it then why did I––"
Suddenly, he stopped himself and shut his mouth, swallowing the second half of his sentence.
Xuanmin was silent again. Finally, he said, "When you were resolved, I also stopped feeling
uncomfortable."
“………” Xue Xian slowly digested the meaning behind those words, then sat there numbly. He
wished he could spit on that bald donkey's disrespectful face.
Great. It was as though he had let loose a volley of arrows at his enemy, but the damn things
turned in the middle of their journey and came right back to stab him in the heart…
"Lend me your belt," Xue Xian said with a blank expression on his face.
Xuanmin did not understand what he meant. Although he kept his eyes shut, he frowned and said,
"What for?"
"I don't really want to live anymore," Xue Xian deadpanned. "Let me hang myself off your
doorframe."
Xuanmin: “...”
"Will you lend it to me or not?" Xue Xian asked.
Xuanmin retracted his gaze. "No."
[b]
Xue Xian let out an annoyed scoff and went back to fiddling with the lantern flame. He no longer
wanted to speak.
It hadn't been that bad when they'd been talking. Now that the room had fallen into silence once
again, a faint sense of awkward intimacy rushed to fill the space between them. Xue Xian looked
down for a bit in contemplation, then said, "What time is it? If you're finished here, shall we go
back to the Fangs?"
Before Xuanmin even had the time to respond, Xue Xian felt something in his pocket suddenly
move.
Chapter 68: Dog Tag (III)
It was only a twitch. Within a blink of an eye, it went away, and the dog tag was still.
A mistake?
Xue Xian's reflexes were still quite slow. He looked down dully at his own lap, unsure if he should
check his pocket, as though waiting for the movement to occur again.
Danglang.
The gentle sound of metal clinking against metal rang out. In the absolute stillness of the room, it
was loud and clear.
"It's moved," Xue Xian suddenly said, pointing at his own robe and looking up at Xuanmin.
Xuanmin was already looking over at him with those dark eyes –– it was unclear if he, too, had
heard the clinking, or if he had simply been staring at Xue Xian.
The lantern light was so weak that, by the time it reached Xuanmin, it was extremely dim. Xue Xian
could not see what expression laid behind those eyes –– but even if he had been able to see, he
would probably still be unable to guess what Xuanmin was thinking. Not after all that had happened
tonight.
Those eyes were probably completely calm and collected as usual...
Xue Xian repeated, "Something's moved."
Clearly, some things needed to be done in moderation. If you were too indulgent, you might
become lazy and idle, or just a little stupid. Xue Xian's current slow state was in high contrast to his
normal behavior. When they’d been talking earlier, the nature of their conversation meant it
wasn’t obvious how dazed Xue Xian was. But now that something important was happening, he
found himself stressed and confused. [a]
Xuanmin sat there, his body half-illuminated and half-submerged in the shadows as he looked back
at Xue Xian. Finally, he said, "Mn."
In the silence of the night, Xuanmin’s voice was as deep as a lake. Combined with the orange glow
of the lantern, his voice seemed even to lose its usual edge and coldness, and instead revealed a
sense of warmth and fondness, which tugged at Xue Xian's heart in an inexplicable way.
Thus, Xue Xian faltered for some time. Only when the thing in his pocket moved again did he return
to his senses.
After three twitches, Xue Xian was finally dragged out of the daze of his afterglow. He looked down
and reached into his pocket.
The pocket had been drenched in sweat earlier, and was still a little damp. So as he took out those
thin dog tags, these, too, were covered in a slight layer of moisture.
Danglang.
As Xue Xian retrieved the dog tags, that metal clinking noise arose again.
Now, Xue Xian could be sure that the movement came from only one of the dog tags among the
pile. He spread those twenty or thirty flakes of metal across the desk under the dim lantern glow,
reaching out to fiddle with them one by one.
Danglang.
"I found it," said Xue Xian, pointing at the suspect dog tag and picking it up.
"Perhaps the resentful energy has not yet dissipated," Xuanmin said.
"Mn," Xue Xian said idly. He brought the dog tag closer to the light and squinted at it again, then
looked closer at the scratched-out name on the back. After a long time, he clicked his tongue and
said, "I can't read it."
Those scratches were far too messy. It was impossible even to see the original markings, let alone
read the name.
Xue Xian sat up and held the dog tag out to Xuanmin.
"What is it?" Xuanmin asked.
"Here. Do the rites," Xue Xian said lazily. Then he looked back at the rest of the dog tags on the
table and counted them. "Twenty-eight. Do you need incense? You'll have to prepare twenty-eight
sticks of incense."
As he spoke, perhaps because it had heard him and understood, the dog tag in his hand suddenly
trembled again, as though wanting to escape his grasp.
"Don't move," Xue Xian told the dog tag without thinking.
Don't move...
Earlier, desperate for release, Xue Xian had taken hold of that hand in front of him and brought it
into the folds of his robe. Xuanmin seemed to have said that to him, then. Xuanmin had said it
more than once.
As he inadvertently repeated that phrase, Xue Xian's still-fatigued mind couldn't help but go back to
the sound of Xuanmin's heavy breaths interwoven with his own. He trailed off, and by the time he'd
managed to drag himself back out of the memory, he found that his cheeks and the tips of his ears
were hot.
His body tense all over, Xue Xian held onto that dog tag and stole a glance at Xuanmin.
For a moment, Xuanmin's gaze seemed to lower slightly, but then he looked back up at Xue Xian's
face. Eventually, his eyes settled on the dog tag in Xue Xian's hand. Not once did Xuanmin look
directly into Xue Xian's eyes –– either because he happened to skip them as a coincidence, or
because he was avoiding them.
Before, when the fog had first dissipated, Xue Xian had specifically chosen to use a casual tone
when making his proposition to Xuanmin. He’d wanted to use his normal, nonchalant tone to squash
the awkwardness of the intimacy between them.
Indeed, although he had been alive for many, many years, Xue Xian had never encountered a
situation like this before, and didn't know how he was supposed to approach it. [b] All he could do
was grit his teeth and treat it as ‘the most normal thing in the world’: a simple helping hand given
between friends.
In the future, once many years had passed and the already ambiguous memory had faded to almost
nothing, perhaps it really would reduce itself to a small, inconsequential matter. As for Xue Xian
and Xuanmin, they could continue to interact the way they'd always interacted, and did not need to
expend time or energy changing anything about their relationship.
That was also, perhaps, why Xuanmin had summoned that poisonous fog: with the dense white fog
between them, they’d been unable to see each other's faces and unable, therefore, to catch
anything in the other's gaze or expression. This helped the whole experience resemble a strange
and blurry dream, and for no unnecessary complications to come out of it.
But now, as a single phrase had triggered Xue Xian's memory, he couldn't help but think of that
moment. Certain emotions took advantage of the memory to come pouring back into him. Xue Xian
realised that some matters could not be pushed aside simply by injecting a casual tone into one’s
voice…
Xue Xian was still staring at the dog tags. Then, as he stole another glance at Xuanmin, he suddenly
came back to his senses.
Xue Xian tugged the corners of his mouth upwards, wanting to say something offhand to offset that
suddenly awkward atmosphere. Instead, he found himself putting on a false smile, one that looked
extremely insincere as well. So he gave up, and just said, "I don't think it's resentful energy on this
dog tag. There seems to be something else."
It was unclear whether Xuanmin had zoned out or if he was pondering something, but some time
passed before he blinked and replied. "The souls have spent too long trapped beneath the river.
They must be half disintegrated by now. In this fragmented state, it's unlikely that resentful energy
can become so tangible."
Xuanmin paused, then got up from the prayer mat and walked over to Xue Xian with his hand out.
"Give it to me,” he said.
When he’d been sitting down, he'd still been able to look at Xue Xian, but now that he was coming
over, Xuanmin was definitely avoiding looking directly at Xue Xian. His gaze was focused entirely on
the dog tag as he picked it up, wrapped it in talismanic paper, and murmured a prayer while giving
the wrapped tag a flick with his finger.
The dog tag emitted a weng–– sound and spasmed against Xuanmin’s palm. Next, the blurred
silhouette of a man slowly squeezed itself out of the dog tag and hovered before Xuanmin.
Xue Xian peered over at the man, but his face was indistinct, as though shrouded in fog…
Fog...
Xue Xian forced his face to become blank as he rolled his eyes and shoved the beginnings of that
memory back into the depths of his mind. He continued to peer over––
The man's face was quite hard to make out, but Xue Xian could roughly see that everything that
was supposed to be on one’s face was there. The man did not wear a soldier's uniform, but instead
wore only a basic and slightly ragged overcoat –– the openings of its sleeves were empty, and hung
limply against his side.
Clearly, someone so gravely injured had been unable to return to the battlefield –– he could no
longer even hold a weapon –– so he must have retired. Xue Xian realised that such soldiers, forced
to return home, would probably have had rather complicated emotions about their retirement…
As Xue Xian looked over at him, the man seemed stunned. The man looked down at his own body
too, as though surprised that he now had a silhouette. Then, he got down on one knee in front of
Xuanmin and Xue Xian and bowed his head in an incomplete but highly respectful greeting.
And because he had no arms, as he got back up, his movements were strained and stilted.
"Th-thank you, dashis, for your help," he said. So he could speak, but his voice was abnormally low,
and as hazy as his form.
Even so, the sound of his own voice made him jump in fright.
"I can speak again..." he muttered. "Can you hear me?"
Xuanmin looked him up and down, then nodded.
"Was it you moving around just now?" Xue Xian asked.
The man nodded and said, "It was."
"A final request not completed? Or too much resentment to transcend?” Xue Xian asked.
The man nodded, then shook his head. "I wouldn't dare. It's just..."
After all, the man was not a normal spirit. He was a fragmented soul made strong through forceful
combination with resentful energy. He spoke slowly and with great effort, and needed to stop every
few words, as though, in the middle of his sentence, he had forgotten how he'd intended to finish.
He paused to think for a while, then added, "I heard that you were about to leave this place..."
Heard?
Xue Xian froze as he tried to recall it: earlier, when he’d had nothing to say but had still wanted to
say something, he had indeed said something like, If there's nothing else, then let's tidy up and go
back to the Fangs. But… Heard?!
"You heard? What else did you hear?" Xue Xian’s face turned dark, then green, then white. His gaze
unconsciously floated to Xuanmin.
Xuanmin seemed to sense that he was being observed, so he glanced back at Xue Xian. But he soon
retracted his gaze and looked at the man, as though waiting for the man to answer that highly
awkward question.
If this dog tag had been conscious the whole fucking time, and had been able to hear everything in
the outside world, then...
Xue Xian was positive that he had never in his life felt his face grow so hot.
When it had been just Xue Xian and Xuanmin alone together, then anything they did while under
the influence of dragon spit fever could be kind of understandable. It was a secret held between
you, me, the heavens, and the earth. It wasn't entirely impossible just to bury the matter and
never speak of it again.
But if some random third person knew about your secret too, then that changed everything. That
palpable awkwardness rippled back up into the room, still mixed in with that strange, indescribable
intimacy. Any and all pretense about what had occurred between Xue Xian and Xuanmin being
‘understandable’ was ruined.
Xue Xian couldn't avoid thinking back to the details of what had happened –– this time, he willingly
recalled them. But as he scanned the memory again, those dazed, vague moments did not become
any clearer. He still could not remember if, amidst that unbearable anxiety, he had cried out, nor
if he had muttered any other nonsense.
He probably hadn't, but who knew...
Well, one person did know, but...
Xue Xian glanced at Xuanmin again, then looked down and frowned. Maybe I should commit suicide
right now, he thought. Or please just hurry up and do the rites for that damn spirit so he can
transcend and go away.
By the time Xue Xian looked up again, he discovered that, for some reason, Xuanmin had moved
slightly closer to him. And he didn't know if this meant anything at all, but Xuanmin now happened
to be standing between Xue Xian and the soldier. It gave Xue Xian the feeling that he had just been
protectively pushed behind someone's back.
Now that his vision was blocked, Xue Xian could no longer see the soldier, only Xuanmin's back.
Naturally, the soldier could not see Xue Xian either. As he realised this, his embarrassed blush went
away a bit.
Thankfully, that soldier replied, "My mind was never very clear. As soon as I became conscious, I
heard the two of you say that you were going to leave, but... But before you leave, could you help
me with something?"
Chapter 69: Dog Tag (IV)
---
Translator’s note / content warning (SPOILERS FOR CH 69):
In this chapter, Xue Xian regains the use of his legs and can walk again. He is very excited by
this and the narration describes his former disability in slightly unfavorable terms.
--"Speak." Xuanmin was still standing with his back to Xue Xian. As always, he spoke simply, his words
direct.
The soldier seemed not to have expected them to agree so readily, or perhaps he was simply
confused. He paused for a while, then said, "Could I... Could I please trouble the two of you to
bring me to my home?" [a]
Stunned, Xue Xian peered out from behind Xuanmin and asked, "Your home?"
"Yes." The soldier nodded and slowly explained, "Earlier, I heard you mention Boji Mountain. My
home happens to be on the sunny side of Boji Mountain –– a small village at its foot."
That really wasn't very far at all: all they had to do was leave the hollow and go around the
mountain.
But...
Didn't you just say that, as soon as you became conscious, you heard us say we wanted to leave?!
But now your story’s changed! When did you hear us say Boji Mountain? When did you become
conscious? Xue Xian screamed in his head. He'd wanted to scream it out loud, but had then decided
that it was best to keep as straight an expression as possible. He stiffened his back and stopped
sticking his head out from behind Xuanmin to peek at the soldier.
"My parents and wife are still there. I thought... if you could bring my dog tag to them, they can at
least have some closure," the soldier was saying. Thankfully, he was in a melancholy mood and did
not notice Xue Xian's reaction to his previous words. He concentrated on speaking to Xuanmin,
telling the story of how and when he'd come to join the military, and how many years it had been
since he'd been home. He spoke in a rambling, stumbling manner, but it was not the irritating kind
of rambling.
Xue Xian pressed his hands against the table. Initially, he was listening intently to everything the
soldier was saying. But soon, with his eyes fixed on Xuanmin's back, he began to zone out again.
Then he suddenly realised that he had never seen Xuanmin’s back before.
At first, Xue Xian had been a paper man and was always hanging off the side of Xuanmin's hip. All
Xuanmin had been able to see of Xue Xian had been the top of his head, and when Xue Xian had
looked up, he’d mainly seen the bottom of Xuanmin's chin. Then, Xue Xian had become a golden
marble, and he’d had far fewer opportunities to even peek his head out of the pouch. After he'd
gotten his original body back, he had been either a tiny creature coiled around Xuanmin's wrist or
an enormous, mountain-sized beast coiled around Xuanmin’s whole body. And even when Xue Xian
had been in his human form, he had usually been carried in Xuanmin's arms, and had liked to cover
his face with a black cloth. Next, he’d gotten a wheelchair and become able to go around by
himself, but he'd always insisted on being at the front of the group...
All in all, as Xue Xian looked back now, he realised that he only ever saw Xuanmin from all sorts of
weird angles –– never so normally as now. Indeed, it was instead Xue Xian’s back that Xuanmin
often saw.
He had to admit, this was an excellent angle to be viewed at: no matter how uncontrolled the
expression in your eyes was, the other person would never be able to see, which meant you didn’t
have to worry about making things awkward.
Xuanmin's shoulders were very wide. From beneath that thin white robe, they appeared sturdy and
muscular. He was even taller than Xue Xian had assumed: he was able to completely block someone
behind him and inhibit their entire line of sight.
A back like this gave Xue Xian the urge to get closer.
Xue Xian's hands on the desk twitched, but before he could raise them, he heard the soldier finish
his story and say to Xuanmin, "I beg you to allow me this final request. When I return to the earth, I
will serve you hand and foot––" [b]
"No need," Xuanmin said coolly, interrupting the man. "You have not yet entered the resurrection
cycle, and mustn't speak nonsense."
The soldier thought that Xuanmin had denied him. He became panic-stricken and began to blubber.
Xuanmin added, "We will tidy up here, and then bring you back."
The soldier thanked him profusely.
Xue Xian placed his hands back onto the table, pressing down. Thanks to the nature of his position,
with Xue Xian staring at Xuanmin’s back and thus avoiding awkward eye contact, Xue Xian’s unease
from before had diluted a little. He asked, "You're just taking that one book?"
"No need. I've memorised the contents." Xuanmin glanced at him, then suddenly turned around and
walked over. "It is almost wu geng. By the time we take this soldier back to his home, it will be
sunrise."
Now that they were face to face, the afterglow from earlier surged back up again within Xue Xian.
Xuanmin was avoiding Xue Xian’s gaze. As he reached out to take Xue Xian into his arms again, Xue
Xian automatically complied, although his entire body had become tense and as stiff as a board.
But as soon as Xue Xian’s body came into contact with Xuanmin's robe, he suddenly realised. He
said, "My legs have healed."
As he’d spoken, he'd abruptly raised his head, and now there was a thud as he bumped his head
right into Xuanmin's chin.
Xue Xian hissed unhappily, but before he could do anything else, a hand came down onto the part
of his head that had been bumped. A thumb even rubbed gently over that spot.
"A dragon's head isn't so easily dented. I was hissing for you," Xue Xian said. After the nonsense that
had occurred before, this was the aftermath: every slight touch from Xuanmin was impossible to
ignore. Xue Xian kept his tense neck completely frozen, and he allowed Xuanmin to pat his head a
little longer before he stiffly said, "Did you bite down on your tongue?"
"It is fine," Xuanmin replied. He took his hand away and took a step back, his gaze falling on Xue
Xian's legs swinging down from the edge of the table. "Did you say your legs had healed?"
Xue Xian nodded. "Earlier, you gave me your copper coin pendant for me to heal with. At some
point in the evening, I came to and realised I had actually successfully healed them, but I didn't...
get the chance to say..."
Damn his reckless mouth. Before Xue Xian had realised what he was saying, he'd already given most
of it away, so he’d had no choice but to finish his sentence.
Didn't get the chance to say...
And why hadn't he had the chance to say? Because the night had taken an indecent turn.
You really know exactly the right thing to say, don't you? thought Xue Xian.
He looked away and put on a casual tone. "So basically, first of all my legs are fine now, and second
of all I'm going to shut up now. So there." He pursed his lips tightly, as though he wished he could
simply fuse his lips together and never speak again.
Xuanmin uttered a deep “Mn,” signalling that he had heard Xue Xian.
Before that weird atmosphere could rise back up again, Xuanmin was already walking toward the
prayer mat and putting the books he'd flipped back onto the bookcase.
Xue Xian stole a glance at him, then quickly looked away. He gritted his teeth and pressed his
hands against the table, then tried to move his legs.
He could move them!
Of course he could move them... He'd already moved earlier, when he had parted his knees to let
Xuanmin move closer.
As Xue Xian cursed himself, he brought his feet down to the ground and pushed himself up from the
table.
Obviously, a pair of legs that had spent half a year completely paralysed and that could now move
just a little could not necessarily hold up the entire weight of a person.
Xue Xian's knees immediately buckled, and he almost crumpled to the ground in a most humiliating
manner. But as he stumbled, a hand instantly shot out to grip his wrist. The hand's palm faced up so
that it steadily supported his weight. The grip was strong and firm, and held him so tightly that the
knuckles on the back of that hand protruded from the tension.
"Weren't you tidying the books?" Xue Xian said, shocked. "Do you have eyes on the back of your head
now?"
Xuanmin did not answer that question. Instead, he frowned and said, "How could you fall?"
"I could fly into the sky fine. Why are there so many obstacles to walking on the ground?" Xue Xian
muttered unhappily.
As he leaned against Xuanmin, he tried to direct more strength into his legs. Those legs, which had
not felt anything for six months, now slowly began to feel a tingling numbness, like countless fine
needles had been stuck into each and every one of his nerves.
It was a highly uncomfortable feeling, but Xue Xian was overjoyed. Because as the prickling feeling
gradually disappeared, those legs that had slumbered for so long were now truly awake.
"I can walk again," Xue Xian said to Xuanmin, looking both amazed and at a loss.
He used Xuanmin's hand as a support to lift each of his legs and twist his ankles, working away the
last of the numbness. Then, he tried to take a step.
"I really can walk again." As Xue Xian spoke, he sounded as though he were in a dream –– part of
him could barely believe it, as though he had been gifted with something extraordinary.
A divine dragon who was naturally arrogant and stubborn, who was used to flying high into the sky
to frolic among storm clouds, was now utterly taken aback by something so small and simple –– it
really was rather unbelievable.
As he raised his head to look back at Xuanmin, Xue Xian noticed that, at some point and for some
reason, Xuanmin had begun to gaze at his face.
"What's wrong with my face?" Xue Xian demanded. Dragging himself out of that state of wonder and
excitement, he raised a hand to touch his face. "Do I look stupid right now? If someone had broken
your legs and made them paralysed for half a year, your reaction would probably be even worse
than mine..." he said, half in self-deprecation, half in mockery.
Having been caught in the act, Xuanmin slowly looked away. "Take a few more steps," he said. "I'll
support you."
Xue Xian was so invested in the joy of getting his legs back that he did not notice that there was a
rare layer of warmth in Xuanmin's tone.
It was clear now that the zuzong’s physicality was indeed different from humans'. Those legs that
hadn't moved for half a year needed only a few more steps to regain some more strength, and soon
began to move as though they had never been paralysed at all. Only Xue Xian himself knew that,
inside his body, there were still bones missing. The fact that he could walk now was all thanks to
the golden threads drawn out by Xuanmin's pendant.
But those threads were ultimately still prosthetics, and would not last very long. If Xue Xian wanted
to fully heal, he still needed to find those missing vertebrae...
So what? At least now he could walk, and he could run. Just this small fact made Xue Xian happy.
He felt as though he had finally been relieved of an impossibly heavy load, and that feeling was
enough to bury all of his previous emotions.
He had even forgotten all about the awkwardness. Steadily, he walked up the stairs and returned
outside, where he pointed at the wheelchair and jutted his chin out at Xuanmin, saying, "I'll give
this to you as a present. Perhaps in fifty years you'll need it."
Xuanmin: “…”
If Xuanmin continued to let the niezhang roam all about the room with nowhere to expend his
newfound energy, he was bound to start saying even more absurd things. Xuanmin did not delay: he
brought the dazed soldier's spirit with him and walked out of the mountain hollow with Xue Xian.
The two were not afraid of the poisonous fog, and the soldier, who was not alive, was naturally not
afraid either.
So they were out of Boji Mountain in no time. They followed the foot of the mountain and headed
toward the village on the south side.
Although the mountain hollow was covered in fog, the other side was in fact clean and clear. On
that rare night without any rain nor snow, a crescent of silver moon hung above the mountain peak
and cast a white glow across the land.
When Xue Xian walked, his steps were subtle and steady. His pace was neither hurried nor too slow,
and he made no noise at all. The way he walked was highly different from his usual troublesome
personality, and in fact far more similar to Xuanmin.
As they walked along the mountain road, that thin black robe of Xue Xian’s rippled lightly in the
breeze and sometimes glided over the long stalks of grass pushing out of the soil. Half of his lanky
silhouette was outlined by the white light of the moon, and the other half was submerged in the
inky darkness of the night, as black as his robes.
Xue Xian and Xuanmin walking side by side made quite the uncanny pair: one white, one black.
Even looking at them sent chills down the soldier’s spine.
Halfway through their journey, the wu geng bells and drums had rung out all across Qingping
County. Successive ringing sounds reached out from the center of the xian cheng. In the outskirts of
the village south of the mountain, the clucks of chickens and the barks of dogs began to sound out,
one after the other.
By the time the group arrived at the village gate, most of the inhabitants were already awake and
the sound of murmurs could be heard beyond.
The group had a resentful spirit with them, and, although he was a frail, wispy thing of a ghost,
they were still bound to scare the villagers. So before they entered the village, in order to avoid
unnecessary hassle and delay them further, Xue Xian cast a spell on the three of them so that no
person or animal could see or hear them. They were hidden.
"Where's your house?" Xue Xian asked.
The soldier pointed a finger ahead. "If we follow this street, there is a pond over there, and we can
follow it around. My house is behind it."
"Let's go, then," Xue Xian said –– but, suddenly, he heard a gloomy sighing noise somewhere close
by.
That sudden sigh was highly startling, especially in contrast to the peaceful streets of the village.
Next, someone in the village screamed, provoking more shouts and murmurs as people rushed over
to help them. Amid the chaos, someone's dog also began to bark furiously, and was quickly joined
by a chorus of other crazed, terrified dogs.
Yet, that melancholy sigh was not at all unfamiliar to Xue Xian.
He looked up and scoffed. "You really know how to pick a time."
Chapter 70: Passerby (I)
The village was still in chaos, the clamor of voices resembling the relentless buzzing of a hornet's
nest. Some higher-pitched voices rose up from the mass––
"Ghost bird! The ghost bird's here––"
"How could the ghost bird be here? Who brought this evil omen onto us?"
"Oh no, oh no, someone's going to die, aaaahhhh––"
"Perhaps there won't be a death, but something bad is surely about to happen!"
The so-called ghost bird was not some new, mysterious creature, but none other than Xuanmin's
black crow who was undoubtedly a Boji Mountain local. Perhaps because it had long lived in the
foggy forest, and its cry was rather unique, the commoners living on the mountain had
mythologised it as a yao mo.
As though the black bird were a comet that brought ill luck. If it hovered too long above the
village, it would bring misfortune to everyone below.
"Ai––" that gloomy sigh rose up again, making Xue Xian grimace. Although the noise may have been
terrifying to the locals, it had a different effect on Xue Xian –– after all, when Xuanmin had been
pleasuring him earlier, that sigh had pierced through the fog and accompanied each and every one
of his own breaths.
So it was highly awkward now.
As soon as he heard the noise, Xue Xian felt pain in his head, a sourness in his cheeks, and an itch
in his hands. He wanted to hit the bird. He wanted to eat human meat.
That black bird really was spiritual. It circled the village a few times, then –– who knew where its
strange magic came from –– actually came flying straight toward Xuanmin.
Thankfully the three had not yet entered the village, or else they would have caused complete
chaos.
The bird really didn't know how to be subtle. It circled round and round, then settled gently on
Xuanmin's shoulder and gave a soft caw, almost coquettish.
Great. Some villagers had seen this and were looking over in terror. They began to scream––
"Ghost bird! Look, it's the ghost bird, and it's hovering in midair!"
"Yes, yes, as though it's perching on something. But there's nothing there. How could it be perched
there?"
They had originally used the invisibility spell to avoid attention, but now the stupid bird had arrived
and they had become some kind of parade. Everyone in the village was staring at them, on high
alert –– if not for the villagers’ fear of the "ghost bird" rumors, they would long have charged
toward the group with brooms and rakes.
And the stupid bird wasn't even stopping. It seemed not to be afraid of humans at all. It tilted its
head and looked back, bemused, at the villagers. Just as they began to tremble with fear, it
decided to let out another sigh: "Ai––"
A long, drawn-out sigh with a slight tremor to it... Now the bird really was doing it on purpose.
Xue Xian was far too sensitive to that sound. He immediately turned and urged the bird's owner to
give it a silencing talisman.
The bird: “...”
It seemed to fundamentally hate Xue Xian in particular. As the bird stared at a certain dragon with
its round, beady eyes, all of its feathers stood on end and it reached its neck over to peck him with
its beak.
Xue Xian was happy to engage. He pinched out two fingers and grabbed hold of the bird's beak,
yanking it close to his face. Glaring into its eyes, he growled, "Whenever I'm bored, the thing that
brings me the most joy is to find a bird somewhere and roast it in a pit. Here, in the middle of
nowhere, I'm not that picky. I don't mind if the meat is raw or cooked. All I have to do is pluck the
feathers, and then I'm ready to have my meal."
The bird: “...”
Under the threat of death, the bird was now frozen stiff. Then –– slowly, carefully –– it slid its beak
out of Xue Xian's grasp and looked back, eyes brimming with tears, at Xuanmin.
Seeing that the damn bird even knew how to be a snitch, Xue Xian glared at Xuanmin too.
Xuanmin: “...”
A real live dragon, so petty as to bicker with a bird –– now that was a talent too. Clearly, ‘Xue Xian’
had been named well. [a]
Xuanmin had probably never expected to one day find himself in such a situation. He seemed out of
ideas.
Of course, Xue Xian wasn't actually locked in a mortal battle with the bird. He wanted to use this
opportunity to cast away the slightly strange atmosphere between him and Xuanmin and try to lead
them back to normal. Especially as, the whole way here from the mountain hollow, Xuanmin had
not said a word –– he'd been even quieter than usual, somehow.
Xue Xian had not been looking for long when Xuanmin glanced back at him. Xuanmin looked him up
and down, then raised a hand to cover Xue Xian’s eyes.
Xuanmin's hand was not soft –– his thin knuckles pressed against Xue Xian's brow and nose. And it
seemed like the cleaning talisman was the best trick in Xuanmin’s sleeve, because his hand was
pristine. All the sweat he’d shed back at the bamboo building from the effects of the dragon spit
had vanished, and his skin even smelled a little like the wilderness around them: pleasant and
mild.
Xue Xian found that he had gone ahead and erected his own tombstone. He'd wanted to set their
relationship back to normal, but now that Xuanmin had covered his eyes for some reason, things
had become even weirder...
It was true that, as a paper man, Xue Xian had often had his face or eyes blocked by Xuanmin ––
Xuanmin’s intent had been ‘out of sight, out of mind.’ But now that Xue Xian was in human form,
the implications changed.
At that same moment something else happened too. Xue Xian didn't know what Xuanmin did to the
bird –– he neither cajoled it nor scolded it, and in fact did not speak at all –– but Xue Xian suddenly
heard the crow flap its wings and then calm down.
He faithfully stood there in the darkness cast by Xuanmin's hand, not moving except to blink once,
his eyelashes gently batting against Xuanmin's palm and fingers.
Xuanmin's fingers twitched, and he lifted his hand away.
He did not look at Xue Xian, as though he really were ‘out of sight, out of mind.’ Lightly, Xuanmin
said, "Alright, let's go."
That black bird really had become obedient again. It stood perched silently on Xuanmin's shoulder,
every once in a while stealing an embarrassed glance at Xue Xian and then furtively looking away
again, as though it was suddenly aware of the situation. Xuanmin seemed to have done something
else to the bird as well, for as they walked with the bird into the village, the terrified gazes of the
villagers did not follow.
"Where's the ghost bird? How could it have disappeared?"
"Yes, it was just here..."
As they left the villagers' murmurs behind, Xue Xian realised that the commotion caused by the
stupid bird had had its benefits: now, the village itself was much quieter, with not a single person
on the street.
They followed the route pointed out to them by the soldier. They reached the pond and strode onto
a simple narrow bridge across it.
But only a few steps in, they heard someone's voice beneath the bridge.
Without stopping, Xue Xian glanced down and saw two early-rising women squatting on a stone
platform at the edge of the pond, laundering clothes and chattering away amidst the light splashing
of the water.
"Ai–– what a shame. Last night, Lao-Li-shu [b] who lives on the west side of the village passed away,"
sighed one of the women, who wore a date-colored winter coat. "They say that he took a rope and
hung himself by the bed. As he died, his hand clutched a red, embroidered robe."
"Lao-Li? Didn't he lose his marbles five or six years ago? How did he even know how to hang
himself?"
The woman in the date-colored coat shook her head. "You know how Li-dashen [c] passed from
illness a few years ago? Er Li-zi [d] and the others feared that their father would not be able to get
over her death, so they took advantage of the fact that he'd gone senile to tell him that Li-dashen
had only gone into the xian cheng to see a doctor. Remember?"
"I remember hearing about it. They said that, each day, Lao-Li-shui would forget everything from
the previous day, so would constantly ask Er Li-zi, 'Where's your mother?'"
“Yes, but apparently he recently became lucid again and realised that his sons were lying to him,
and that dashen had long died," the woman in the date-colored coat sighed. "Before, when Lao-Lishu had been dumb, he could still survive on a day-to-day basis. But after he woke up, he lost the
will to live. Er Li-zi took his eyes off his father for one second, and Lao-Li-shu had taken the easy
way out.”
"Ai... Some things are better left unknown..."
By the time the two women had finished speaking, Xue Xian and Xuanmin had already finished
crossing the bridge. The soldier, however, seemed to falter, staring into space while standing in the
middle of the bridge, before scurrying after Xue Xian again.
"We're here..." The soldier's tone seemed hesitant. He pointed at a small mud hut by the road: from
the outside, the house seemed to have three rooms, with two side by side and a third squeezed
behind them; probably two bedrooms and a kitchen.
As the soldier spoke, the house happened to stir and one of the bedroom doors was pushed open. A
woman with her hair tied in a bun walked out. She held a colorful decorative knot in her hands. A
dried tortoise shell was attached to the knot.
She fiddled with the knot, then hung it onto a nail by the doorway. As she caressed the tortoise
shell, she looked out behind her.
For a moment, Xue Xian thought that she had seen them. But her gaze only skidded across them
lightly: [e] in reality, her gaze lingered at a spot behind them, in the direction of the village gate.
Then she looked away, arranged her bun, and returned inside.
"Let's go over there," Xue Xian said.
But he heard no response. Xue Xian turned around and saw that the soldier's face was wet –– he had
begun to cry.
As though sleepwalking, the soldier slowly followed Xue Xian to the door, but made no attempt to
enter the kitchen. Instead, he stared numbly at that decorative knot. He seemed to want to touch
the tortoise shell, but with no arms, all he could do was look. He gazed at the knot for some time,
then turned and looked into the window at the woman inside.
"What tradition is that knot about?" Xue Xian asked.
The soldier paused as he swallowed down his sobs and said, "We use the shells of tortoises, to
signify the notion of 'return'. [f] In this area, we have a folk custom where if someone has departed
and not yet returned, their family hangs a knot like this outside their door."
Every month, the knot was replaced with a new one –– from spring and summer to autumn and
winter, until their loved one returned.
"I..." The soldier looked back longingly at the woman, who stood in the kitchen surrounded by
steam and smoke from the stove. He fell silent again, then said, "I've changed my mind... Don't let
her see the dog tag."
He seemed not to have seen her for many years –– he could not tear his eyes away. It was only after
a long time that he forced himself to look back at Xue Xian and Xuanmin. "Could I please ask you to
bury the dog tag in front of the house?"
Xue Xian looked at his desolate face and nodded. "Okay," he said. "As long as you're sure. Once we
bury it, we'll leave, and we won't be back. If you change your mind again... No one will be able to
help you."
"Mn... I'll stay here and watch over her and my parents," the soldier said in a low voice. "As long as
they don't see the dog tag, they'll maintain some hope..."
He had fought countless battles, had wielded weapon after weapon, and had expended blood and
sweat. But he had probably not cried very much. As he sobbed, he appeared to be aggressively
pushing his sadness back down so as not to make too much noise.
The soldier stood there for some time, then suddenly said to Xuanmin, "I-I heard that there was a
pill [g] you could take where you could decide your rebirth. If I found one now and took it, would it
still work?"
Xuanmin paused. Before he could respond, Xue Xian scoffed and shook his head. "Why do you
people always want to put your next life, and even the life after that, in dependence on this one?
I've met many people like you. The last man who asked me that question was also a soldier. He
recited prayers all night long, asking me whether I had this type of medicine. But any item that
claims to have control over life and death is evil stuff. They always come with a price, and that
price is too high for humans to pay. As if anything that good would come cheap!"
But the soldier replied seriously. "Not necessarily,” he said. “When I was growing up in this village,
I heard Qu-shu say that there was a miracle pill [h] from his hometown where if you take it, you can
decide where to go for your next life. You can even take on the burden of someone else's fated
misfortune..."
Seeing that Xue Xian looked annoyed, he quickly added, "Qu-shu comes from Langzhou... They have
all sorts of strange and wonderful things there. Perhaps it really––"
"Stop thinking about it. It's of no use to you," Xue Xian said. He hated being vague for the sake of
politeness, so he didn’t mince his words.
The soldier immediately sighed. His body language deflated and he hung his head, as though the
last of his energy had evaporated. "I understand. I was just... thinking about it."
But... hold on.
Xue Xian suddenly frowned and clicked his tongue. "Something in what you just said sounded
familiar. Where did you say the old man was from?"
The soldier's voice was still hazy and weak, so that some of the words he uttered were hard to
make out. It had taken time for Xue Xian to register what he'd said, and he needed to confirm it
again.
"Qu-shu?" the soldier said, stunned, then repeated, "Langzhou. More specifically, I think he comes
from the Xia Mountain area or some other such mountain."
Xia Mountain, Langzhou.
A miracle pill that allows you to take on the burden of someone else's misfortune...
Those two things had to be related –– it could not be a coincidence. Xue Xian glanced over at
Xuanmin and found himself immediately making eye contact again. He quickly averted his eyes
even as he said to Xuanmin, "Shall we go find that man?"
If they could pin down a more specific location, or find out more about this so-called ‘miracle pill’,
perhaps they might be able to find a cure to Xuanmin's Tongshou Spider bite sooner.
The two did not delay further. They did as the soldier had requested and silently buried the dog tag
in the earth in front of the mud hut. Then, following the direction in which the soldier had pointed,
they went in search of that ‘Qu-shu’.
Accompanied by Xuanmin's black bird, Xue Xian and Xuanmin headed toward Qu-shu's house. At the
same time, on a mountain road not far from the village, the riders who made up a long carriage
train were taking a break from their journey to look out at the view.
These were none other than the group from the Taichang Si, who had gone into Boji Mountain and
then come back out.
The leaders of the train were still a young man and a young woman: the Taizhu and Taibu.
The Taizhu lightly scratched his mask and looked over at the young woman as she performed
another divination. Irritated, he said, "What is it? Is he using some technique to hide himself? Or has
he changed location overnight?"
They could only perform one divination per day. To hunt down the person they were looking for,
they had to do a new divination, or else their information would remain a day old.
It had taken the carriage train going all the way to a second mountain to realise that something had
been amiss back here. They’d had to take several turns to come back to Boji Mountain.
This time, the Taibu said nothing for so long that the Taizhu worried something dramatic had
happened again.
"That person is indeed at Boji Mountain. There's no way it could be wrong this time. There is
nothing to pollute the divination. But..." The Taibu paused, then added, "But he's dead."
"Dead?" the Taizhu repeated, astonished.
"But the most confusing part isn't that."
"There's something else?"
"Remember how I said I thought I saw the Guoshi?" the Taibu asked.
"Of course. But that was just a coincidence," the Taizhu replied.
"I don't think so,” the Taibu said. “In this divination, he also came to the Boji Mountain hollow...
and only left recently."
One coincidence was just a coincidence, but two? That was very difficult to explain away.
A sudden thought crossed the Taizhu's mind. "Could it... really be the Guoshi? Where is that person
now?"
The Taibu raised a finger and pointed into the village nested under the morning sun at the south
side of the mountain. "That village right there."
The two officials turned to each other, their piercing gazes meeting through their masks. Then, the
Taibu took out a brush from her horse's bags, dipped it in ink, and began to hurriedly compose a
letter.
Meanwhile, clearly following a silent procedure, the Taizhu whistled into his fingers and summoned
a dove. [i]
The letter was addressed to the Guoshi, and was signed by the Taibu. She gave it to the dove to
bring to Famen Si.
"Now that the letter's been sent, we should head into the village and check it out,” said the Taizhu.
“After all... this concerns the Guoshi. We must not be reckless.”
The Taibu nodded. "Mn."
And today, when Xue Xian caught sight of that soldier from the dog tag, he thought back to the
man in the desert. Although six or seven years had passed since their encounter, Xue Xian still
could not understand how anyone could love another so deeply that they could refuse to move on
even after death.
Although, as his mind drifted through these casual thoughts, he unconsciously glanced back at
Xuanmin.
Noticing Xue Xian's gaze, Xuanmin, walking slightly ahead, paused in his steps. "What is it?" Xuanmin
asked.
As Xue Xian's mind returned to the present, he discovered that he had been staring at Xuanmin's
back. "Oh," he muttered as he looked away. "Nothing. I thought of a passerby."
"Passerby?" Xuanmin's eyes flitted toward the pond, then back toward Xue Xian.
But Xue Xian was already staring at the road ahead. "Let's get out of –– Someone's there!"
Having just left the village, they had removed their invisibility spell. They planned to entirely leave
the mountain path soon, so there was no need. But in the middle of Xue Xian's sentence, he noticed
a long carriage train on the path ahead. It was a winding streak of white.
"What kind of family has such a long funeral train?" Xue Xian muttered. But then he saw the flags
attached to the carriages, and the two characters on the flags: Taichang.
Xue Xian and Xuanmin stopped in their tracks. Before they could even see the faces of the
newcomers, Xue Xian heard the clear and bright voice of a woman say, "Descend from your horses."
Next, around a hundred people shuffled off their horses and bowed in a deeply polite greeting in
Xue Xian and Xuanmin’s direction.
Xue Xian: “...” What the fuck? [g]
---
Chapter 72: Passerby (III)
The Taichang had a strict rule: they only knelt to the heavens. So whenever officials encountered
the Guoshi, their greeting did not take the form of a kneel but rather a deep bow.
Hundreds of riders jumped off their horses. All dressed in white and wearing silver beast masks,
they silently arranged themselves into neat rows and bowed deeply at the same time. The sight was
a spectacular one, but it was also threaded with a sense of solemnity and reverence. If the group
had been holding sticks of incense, they would look like they were performing a ritual to the
heavens.
To most people in the world, this would be an intimidating and flattering scene. But this display
was small fry to Xue Xian. The reason why he stood there, frozen, was because it was so incredibly
unexpected.
He had never paid much attention to imperial matters in the human realm, since none of it had
anything to do with him. He had never bothered to learn about the ever-changing rota of ministers
that served the emperor. So when he'd first seen those two characters, Taichang, the word had had
no impact on him. Instead, what had given these officials away to Xue Xian was the group’s unique
getup: he guessed that they were the emperor’s religious ministers; in other words, fortune-tellers.
Naturally, Xue Xian had been witness to many crowds such as these in his long life. He almost
blurted out, The rain priests managed to track me down?
Before Xue Xian could speak, Xuanmin frowned and stepped forward, half-hiding Xue Xian behind
him. With that ever-cold expression on his face, Xuanmin scanned the large crowd of newcomers
and calmly asked, "How can I help you?" [a]
How can I help you?
How can I help you???
The Taibu and Taizhu, who were at the front of the group and had been about to speak, were
shocked still.
Nevertheless, they had grown up in an imperial court, where they were trained to always maintain
politeness no matter what unexpected events occurred. The two officials continued to bow deeply,
but glanced at each other in shock and confusion.
Did they have the wrong man? Impossible!
That silhouette, that demeanor, even the way he walked –– everything pointed clearly to this man
being the Guoshi. They didn't even need to get close to recognise him!
So what did he mean by How can I help you?
Had he done it on purpose? Was there some kind of threat that required him to disguise his
identity?
The Taizhu and Taibu had entered the Taichang together as children, and might under secular
circumstances have been rumored to be childhood sweethearts [b] –– meaning that, by now, they
understood each other intuitively. The two only needed to meet eyes to come to the same
conclusion.
But just as they came to that conclusion, there came a gentle hissing sound. The sound came from
somewhere near their own hands.
Stunned, the two officials saw that a small flame had somehow appeared by the Taibu's finger.
That flame soon disappeared, revealing a small piece of paper within its core.
They were very familiar with this phenomenon: this was how the Guoshi communicated with them.
But the dove that the Taibu had sent had only just flown out. There was no way it could have
already reached Famen Si. The only reason they might receive a message now was if the Guoshi
happened to be issuing them with new orders, but the timing was far too much of a coincidence...
The Taibu caught the slip of paper in her palm and discreetly glanced at the white shadow standing
before her. Before she could even open the letter, there came the batting sound of a bird's wings
behind her.
"A letter." The Taizhu turned to look, and reached up to retrieve a letter attached to a dove's leg.
The two officials looked at each other again, then hurried to read the messages.
"The letter is from a Deputy Minister. He reports a rumor from Huazhi County that some folks saw a
dragon. The Guoshi gave orders, and now the entire Ministry, including the guards posted outside
Tianji Courtyard, are all on their way. We're being told to wait here." The Taizhu made his voice as
low as he could, but when he said the word dragon, he was so surprised that his voice couldn't help
but raise a little. Panicked, he lowered his voice again and squeezed out the final sentence: "Also,
the Deputy Minister says that the Guoshi has left isolation. He has to take care of something first,
but in three days he will be joining us."
And as for the Guoshi's personal message, it was as concise as always.
The Taibu shoved the unfolded slip of paper under the Taizhu's eyes. There were only five
words: Act as you see fit. And at the bottom, that red stamp that read Tongdeng.
The two letters had arrived one after the other. They were both brief, but the contents were
equally difficult to parse. Someone in Huazhi County had seen a dragon, but why did that mean
every official from the Taichang Si, including those stationed to Tianji Courtyard, all had to come
out immediately? Such a thing had never happened before, and the scale of this action was highly
unusual, which would make anyone suspicious.
But the part that bothered the Taibu and Taizhu the most was not that: it was the fact that the
Guoshi had finally left isolation, but had other matters to tend to...
The two of them couldn't help but make a connection to the situation in which they currently found
themselves. They felt that their previous conclusion had been correct: the Guoshi was pretending
not to know who they were because he had other plans that were secret to his underlings.
Well, then, as his underlings, of course they had to cooperate as best as they could. To break the
Guoshi's cover –– did they have a death wish?
"Act as you see fit..." the Taizhu murmured. This was precisely a situation where they had to act as
they saw fit! The two officials quickly rearranged their faces and raised their heads. They nodded
respectfully at Xue Xian and Xuanmin and said, "It was a misunderstanding. I'm afraid we thought
you were someone else."
"Someone else?" Xue Xian laughed as he dusted some nonexistent dirt off of his robe. "Do you think
we'd believe that?"
Although the two parties stood quite far apart on the path, Xue Xian had still heard them say the
word dragon. If these men in white had honestly and directly explained their true intentions, Xue
Xian would not have minded, but now they were saying that it was all a ‘misunderstanding’. Now
that was interesting.
What kind of people lied?
People with something to hide.
Normally, Xue Xian could never be bothered to try and guess mortals' complex thoughts. But that
was before he fell upon misfortune. Now, whenever he came across people like these –– people
with something to hide –– Xue Xian couldn't help but remember the man who had maimed him. As
he chuckled, the mirth in his eyes was a cold mirth.
"It is all our fault,” said the Taizhu. “With the curves of the mountain road, we did not look too
closely at your faces, but instead went entirely by the colors of your clothes. How funny!" The
Taizhu didn’t even dare to glance at Xuanmin anymore. Instead, he only saluted Xue Xian. "Please
forgive us. Since the two of you are clearly on your way somewhere, we shall not delay you further.
Please––"
He made a gesture at the officials behind him.
In a great wave, the hundreds of people behind him rose from their bowing positions and shuffled
until the group parted in half, creating a broad and orderly passageway for Xue Xian and Xuanmin.
Xue Xian scoffed, but he said nothing and began to walk on.
He and Xuanmin did not hesitate to walk through the bisected crowd. Neither of them were afraid
of anything, so they did not even feel uneasy as they crossed those dozens of beast masks lined up
in rows around them. Xue Xian and Xuanmin maintained calm expressions and took steady,
confident steps.
Before Xuanmin could get too close, the Taibu and Taizhu lowered their gazes, just as they were
used to when they ran into the Guoshi inside the Taichang Si. They did not dare to let their vision
linger. Besides, they seemed to have accidentally thrown a wrench into the Guoshi's vast plan and
almost ruined everything –– the situation was now rather awkward, and they definitely did not want
to look up at his face.
But in the instant that Xuanmin walked past him, the Taibu's gaze moved slightly, and she caught
sight of Xuanmin's right hand. Then, she quickly looked away again.
Apart from at the beginning, when they'd briefly faltered upon first meeting Xuanmin, the Taibu
and Taizhu's behavior for the rest of the encounter had been perfectly appropriate and subtle ––
they'd been polite, yet not overly deferential. At the same time, they could not help but keep an
eye on Xue Xian, as though fearing that this intimidating-looking figure might discover some
weakness within them.
That had been their mistake: normally, furtive glances at someone might not alert them, but Xue
Xian's eyesight was far more sensitive than that of a human. He immediately noticed the two
peering at him. In his view, they had basically written, We have something to hide! on a board to
parade down the street.
Xue Xian felt that something was amiss, but before any real idea could fully materialise in his mind,
the black bird on Xuanmin's shoulder broke off his train of thought.
That bird really was fearless: it seemed not to be perturbed by this massive group of ‘mourning’
people at all. Instead, when Xue Xian happened to bump into it, it actually shook out a wing and
slapped Xue Xian's shoulder.
Vermin! [c]
As Xue Xian stared daggers at the bird, he saw Xuanmin silently stick a talisman onto it.
This was probably some kind of freezing talisman. As soon as the bird was hit by it, it became stiff
as a board. It stopped moving entirely, though its two beady eyes glared resentfully at Xuanmin.
For a moment, Xue Xian felt good about himself. He was so self-satisfied that he forgot to try and
figure out what those carriage train people had to hide.
Meanwhile, the Taibu and Taizhu watched as the two men and one bird walked through the crowd
of officials and headed toward a fork in the road ahead.
"Hu––" The Taizhu let go of the breath he'd been holding. He had a new idea to make sure they
wouldn’t sabotage the Guoshi’s plans. After bidding farewell to the two, they now had to pretend
to continue ahead, but then somehow find a way to make a U-turn. They could return and
surreptitiously follow the Guoshi from a safe distance, ready to provide backup in case of an
emergency.
But before he'd even fully let go of that breath, the Taizhu watched as the tall and skinny man
dressed in black who had been at the Guoshi's side suddenly turned back and flashed them a smile.
It was an extremely handsome smile –– and an extremely evil smile, with a chilling coldness to the
crook of the lips that startled the Taibu and Taizhu.
Next, the sky directly above the Taichang officials suddenly changed. An oncoming cluster of black
storm clouds rumbled forth out of nowhere and instantly blocked out the dim morning light. Next,
dozens of bolts of white lightning came down from the clouds and crashed into the ground, right
next to their feet, with a series of earth-shattering booms.
Each bolt of lightning seemed to have a specific target. They all came down dangerously close to
the officials’ feet, and struck a circle around the entire group, trapping them in a cage made of
live lightning.
In all the years that the Taizhu and Taibu had been alive, they had never before been in such utter
and complete defeat. All the men and horses in their carriage train were thrown into chaos. The
angles of these bolts of lightning seemed to be carefully calculated. The bolts were careful not to
actually hit anyone, yet struck close enough to make them jump and to make the men run in all
directions to avoid it. Their only option was to cower away from the lightning.
There seemed to be no end in sight to this storm. The officials’ powers were limited, and they
knew it would be no easy task to break out of this cage.
So the Taizhu decided to peer past the lightning and the commotion to try and see where the two
men had gone. But when he did, he found that they had long vanished without a trace –– and,
because of all the distractions, he had not even been able to see which of the two roads they'd
taken.
As the Taizhu began to seriously panic, the Taibu gripped his sleeve and calmly said, "It's fine. We'll
find them."