Chapter 1 Paper man (1)
In the summer of the 23rd year of Tianxi, a dragon fell in Huameng County, Guangdong
Province. It was very tall, its length tens of feet. It was trapped in a net, with split skin, torn
flesh and missing its spine. When officials and the people went to look, a coincidental rain
poured, causing the waves to crash and the tide to surge. The dragon was then swept into
the sea, never to be seen again. —Records of Huameng County [1]
Winter of the same year, Ningyang County, Huizhou Prefecture.
Wugeng1's gong had just been sounded. It was still dark, yet faint voices could already be
heard from Xingtang street. The waiter of Nine Taste restaurant carried some freshly made
steamed buns and went to set up a breakfast stand in front of the building.
The watchman came, rubbing his hands and bought three buns. He swallowed one in two
bites, swallowing it with difficulty and while frowning at the Nine Taste restaurant's waiter
said, "Well? Is the thing prepared?"
"It’s prepared. Here." The waiter patted the lunch box kept beside the drawer with a
distressed face.
Astonished, the watchman said, "You’ve really gone and prepared it? What if he... the thing
doesn’t come today?"
The waiter shivered in silence and said dryly, "I pray to my ancestors, please don't come."
This Nine Taste restaurant was a relatively famous restaurant in Ningyang County. The
chef's nickname was "Liu Sanyang". It was said that he could walk the world with three
famous dishes, namely, roasted meat with peach, clay pot roast chicken and crisp pear with
masked palm civet. The meat was pork belly without skin, the chicken was a pheasant
caught just off the mountain, and the civet had to be raised in the snow.
The Nine Taste restaurant relied on these three dishes and was full of customers every day.
But Liu Sanyang was a man who put on airs when it came to his dishes. He only provided
ten servings a day, not a single extra serving. So if you wanted to eat, you'd have to come
early.
However, for ordering solid food as early as five o'clock, one would most probably have to be
a little sick in the head.
This dear guy who had been sick in the head had been here for two days straight.
On the first day, he ordered three dishes from the waiter and never spoke again. It was really
boring. In the cold winter, when a normal person breathes out and opens their mouth, a
1 Wugeng 五更 is the time period between 3 to 5 am in the morning.
white mist would form, but his face was clear and transparent, not the slightest hint of mist.
On the next day, he asked for more - not to put the clay pot chicken in the clay pot, not to put
star anise, fennel, crisp pear, oxtail, not to put pear...
This requirement wasn’t like requesting a proper meal for breakfast at all, but more like
smashing its reputation. However, the waiter not only didn't shoo away the suspect guest,
but also served him, all the while trembling, for two days. Today, he even prepared all the
lunch boxes in advance.
He looked at the sky. Legs trembling, he stretched his neck like a chicken and asked the
watchman, "It's almost time. How-how-how are you not trembling?"
“I walk through the night as my job, why would I tremble?" The watchman lowered his voice
and said: "Besides, it hasn’t been peaceful this year. It wouldn’t be unusual to see any
demons. Have you heard about the true dragon that was spotted in Guangdong in June? It
was lying on the beach. I heard that someone removed its spine and bones! Dragon bones!
What omen is this? In the last two months, it was rumoured that the National Advisor almost
died—”
Before the watchman finished speaking, the waiter looked terrified and looked as if he
wanted to slide beneath the stall. "Here he is, he-he-he’s here again..."
As soon as the voices stopped, there was a man who looked like a scholar standing in front
of the stall.
He looked ordinary, with a weary face and his cheeks showed an abnormal red color, like a
long dry fire. This man was wearing a long grey-green robe that was as thin as the man
himself, like someone had draped a piece of cloth on a stick. It seemed as if the wind would
blow him up to heaven with it.
Under the light of the white lantern, the watchman stared at the scholar's face for a long
time. Even when the steamed bun in his mouth went cold, he did not swallow it.
The scholar murmured to himself, "Here we are", and slowly raised his head, looking at the
waiter with flat black eyes. It was terrifying.
The waiter immediately clamped his legs together and felt like peeing.
"Excuse me, roasted meat with peach please—", this scholar had a nice voice when he was
speaking properly. It was unlike the tone he was using earlier, but it didn’t fit his expression
nor did it match the shape of his mouth. It looked even more terrifying.
The waiter averted his eyes, picked up the lunch box and handed it to him cautiously: "All, all
of them are ready. Inside porcelain jars, without pear or star anise. They’re just out of the pot
and still hot."
The scholar seemed to choke for a while. He stared at the food box for a moment and then
gave a reaction slowly, "Thank you."
His voice was hoarse and differed slightly from the one before.
The food box seemed to be a little heavy for the scholar, as if a kilogram of pendants were
hung onto a tree branch. He walked a lot slower than when he had come and took a long
time to get far.
The watchman shivered and returned to his senses.
The waiter said with a pale face, "Have you seen it this time? That face... Eh? What are you
doing in such a hurry?"
Watchman: "I want to pee!"
Waiter: "..."
However, as soon as the watchman left, he came back again with his gongs and stick.
Before the waiter spoke, the watchman patted him on the shoulder and made funny faces at
something far away: "Look over there!"
Just across the street, a white shadow appeared silently from the dark.
The waiter who had just been startled immediately felt his knees go weak, thinking that he
had seen something dirty again. Fortunately, he took another look and found that it was a
monk. He was wearing thin, plain white monk's clothing with wide sleeves. No other color
could be seen from head to toe, as if he was in mourning. It was very unlucky to see
something like this early in the morning.
The waiter didn't understand: "I see it, but isn’t it just a monk?"
The watchman said in a low voice: “I glanced at him when I passed by just now and saw that
he has five emperor’s coins hung on his waist!”
The five emperor’s coins were used to drive away evil spirits and for gate-keeping. It was
rumoured that the National Advisor favoured them and always hung a string on his waist.
From then onwards, the five emperor’s coins had been the item most commonly used by the
people who exorcised ghosts for a living. Although there were some charlatans among them,
most of them had a few tricks up their sleeves.
From a distance, the waiter looked at the monk from top to bottom and thought that he had
an indescribable aura. In short, he didn’t look like a charlatan. He couldn’t care less anyway.
Three days was already the limit. And if the scholar visited again tomorrow morning, he
might’ve lost control and peed on the spot.
The monk walked slowly, but came near soon enough. Seeing as he was about to pass the
stall, the waiter quickly called out to him: “Master, please stay!”
The monk’s steps halted. The hem of his white robe swayed gently, yet it was unstained by
dust. He cast a glance towards the waiter. The gaze was calm yet without warmth, somehow
even colder than the wind blowing on his face. It wasn’t until he came close that the waiter
noticed that he was quite tall, so much that his gaze was directed at him from above. This
made the waiter shrink back a step inexplicably. He bumped into the watchman who had
also shrunk back a step.
This bump knocked the courage right back into the waiter’s stomach. He opened his mouth
again: “I noticed that there are five emperor’s coins hanging on the master’s waist. Are you
familiar with the skills to exorcise evil spirits?”
The monk glanced at the copper coins on his waist without much of an expression. He did
not say yes, nor did he say no.
The waiter glanced at the watchman awkwardly and thought that this monk was colder than
the evil winds of this winter month. He froze, mind blanking out from the chill. He did not
know how to continue.
Thankfully, the watchman was more resistant to the chill and spoke for him. In a few words,
he described the appearance of the scholar-like visitor and said to the monk: “We weren’t
familiar with the face, but we could never mistake it. That was the son of the Jiangs’ who ran
the medicine hall. But...But the Jiang’s medicine hall burned down three years ago. With the
exception of the daughter who has been married off to Anqing, no one survived, all of them
died in the fire! As the saying goes, ‘wugeng time is when the ghosts roam’. A dead person
appearing for three days straight and it so happened to be at wugeng time. How could it not
be terrifying?!”
The monk glanced briefly at the sky and finally opened his mouth. He spoke three words
coldly: “Where is he?”
On hearing this, the waiter suddenly became excited. He pointed at a bend some distance
away and hurriedly said: “He just left! I’m sure he hasn’t reach the door yet! I recognise the
Jiang’s medicine hall. Master, shall I, shall I lead the way?”
Soon, however, the waiter regretted saying this and wanted to slap himself: Who told you to
run your mouth!
How much did he hate life that he’d agree to walk in this cold winter beside a human icicle.
The waiter was sure he had lost half of his life just walking these few alleys. He glanced at
the young monk from time to time, repeatedly. Still, he didn’t dare ask what he wanted to and
instead memorised the small mole on the side of the monk’s neck.
Before the waiter would freeze to death, they finally arrived at the corner of the back lane
leading to the Jiang’s medicine hall.
Just as the waiter had predicted, the scholar who looked like he couldn’t stand the wind
hadn’t made it through the door and was inching step by step in the alley with the lunch box
in hand.
Strangely enough, he was murmuring to himself in two different voices. Sometimes it was
clear and pleasant, sometimes low and hoarse.
“Did you go up a mountain by yourself and catch a chicken for me? With this speed you’re
going at, can we even reach by the end of this month?” This was the clearer one.
“Still beats not being able to walk.” This was the lower one.
“I think you’re sick of being alive.”
“Nope, I just died three years ago.”
“……”
The scholar played two characters by himself and acted out a play of “what do you mean
you’re so sick” in two voices. After that, he turned into a paper man and slipped through a
crack in the wall of the Jiang’s medicine hall.
After witnessing the entire ordeal by accident, the waiter was terrified to the bone and
wanted to escape. He had his feet in the air before remembering that the icicle monk was
still beside him and hurriedly took out a money pouch, shoving it into the master’s arms.
While he was still muttering “For your compensation,” he was already two li2 away.
The monk creased his brows and lowered his eyes, sweeping them over the money bag.
Who knew when was the last time this thing was washed. The color had long since been
unrecognizable and it reeked of oil from a long time ago.
He wanted to throw the dirty thing as soon as he touched it, yet he hooked it back before the
string had a chance to leave his finger. With an almost indifferent face showing slight
disgust, he carried the money bag and walked quietly to the front of the Jiang’s medicine
hall.
The waiter who had escaped back to the Nine Taste restaurant caught his breath while
supporting himself against a wall and with no less hand gestures, finally managed to
describe what happened to the watchman who helped him guard the stall while he was
gone. He hesitated for a moment and said, “Hiss-- The master earlier looked familiar.”
2 One li is around 500 meters, so two li is 1 k.m.
“You watch the stall all day. So many people pass by, of course you’d say everyone looks
familiar.” The watchman said gruffly.
“……” The waiter gasped for air and straightened up. His gaze swept past and caught on the
wall that he was leaning on support for.
A “wanted” poster from half a month ago was hung up on the wall. Unfortunately, it had
snowed heavily right after it was posted. After it was frozen and drenched, the picture could
not be seen clearly anymore the next day. He had only taken a quick look at the time and it
left a blurry imprint in his mind.
Now, more than half the poster had been peeled off, leaving only the neck area. However, a
mole could still be seen, in the exact same place as the one on the master’s neck.
The waiter felt excitement surge through him: This was a wanted criminal that had a bounty
on his head!
-----
The author has something to say
I'm here again~
This novel may contain a lot of dog blood3. Xuan Min is gong, Xue Xian is shou, don't board
the wrong ship ~ still 1vs1, HE, kisses ~
Note [1]: The first paragraph is the original source of inspiration, which is translated from the
seven repair manuscripts written by Lang Ying. The original text: My friend, the father of Jin
Mao, visited Xinhui County of Guangdong Province at the end of Chenghua. One day, just
after the morning tide, a dragon fell onto the sandy ground from the air. The fishermen, each
with their own wood planks, beat it to death. The officials and the people looked at it. It was
very tall and could be as tall as a person. It was tens of feet long, with scales on its head and
feet, just like a painting, but its belly was only red. This could be described very clearly by
anyone who had seen it.
******
Translation: nucleatedrbc and Lunaa
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