Chapter 4:
Gold Ingots
THE SHACK WASN’T FAR. Xuanmin was tall, his legs long. A short moment later, he was standing at its entrance.
From Xue Xian’s vantage point, he could glimpse through the half-open door. What he saw inside shocked him. Piled next to the door was a heap of yellowish objects. At first glance, they looked like gold ingots, but on closer inspection, he realized they’d been folded from paper. These were paper ingots, folded from yellow wax paper and meant to be burned as offerings for the dead.
While Xue Xian was busy being surprised, Liu Chong—who was right behind Xuanmin—piped up. “Um, can I play with that?”
He was pointing at Xuanmin’s side. Xuanmin looked down at his hip, unsure what Liu Chong was referring to.
“Yellow paper.” Liu Chong pointed again.
Now Xuanmin understood. He was pointing to the paper doll at the pouch’s opening.
Xue Xian was speechless. The hell?! This guy sure has some guts! Daring to treat a dragon like a toy? Does he have a death wish?
What would a fool know? One wrong move and the young man would rip him right in half. A bit of carelessness and Xue Xian might find himself in eight pieces! An indescribable pain coursed through him at the thought. Throwing caution to the wind, Xue Xian scuttled back inside the pouch and pinched Xuanmin hard through the white hemp.
If you dare hand me over, I’ll make you pay! Xue Xian thought.
Xuanmin said nothing but wondered, Why is this evil spirit so unruly?
Worried that Xuanmin was too stupid to understand what the pinch meant, Xue Xian took the chance to flip himself over the moment Liu Chong averted his gaze, so that the doll’s painted face was facing up. From that position, Xue Xian glared up at Xuanmin with his ink-dot eyes.
However, a painting could never compare to a real face. Moreover, Xue Xian’s artistic skills were passable at best, and certainly not a master’s. His ink eyes lacked the spirit of real ones. Perturbed by the pinch, Xuanmin looked down at Xue Xian coldly, ready to issue the troublemaking spirit a warning, only to meet those painted eyes peering out of his pouch.
He started, genuinely caught off guard. Belly up, with a pair of deadened black eyes, the paper doll was the very picture of a wide-eyed corpse.
Xuanmin had captured his fair share of demons and ghosts on his travels. Most of them had been defiant before being subdued, then respectful and fearful afterward, until they were put to rest. Few were like Xue Xian, who refused to settle down even after being captured, and no other had been this brazen, tirelessly causing problem after problem. It was almost dramatic in its behavior—it could practically put on an entire play by itself.
As Xuanmin thought this, his eyes flitted briefly over the paper doll, then he reached in with two fingers and plucked it out of the pouch again.
You’ll pay for this! Xue Xian screamed internally.
Xuanmin’s fingers were unlike those of people who lived through the regular bustle of daily life. They were pencil-straight, slender, and spotless, as if they’d never been dirtied. He didn’t seem like someone who’d grown up in a temple, and he certainly didn’t resemble a wandering monk. Rather, he was more like a pampered nobleman.
At this moment, Xue Xian didn’t have the luxury to notice these things.
Between two fingers, Xuanmin held out the doll, bringing it a little closer to Liu Chong.
In the future, I’ll unleash all my lightning on you! Every day, around the clock! Xue Xian thought.
“This?” Xuanmin asked Liu Chong.
I swear to fry you to a crisp, or I’ll change my name to “four-legged worm”!
“Mm.” Liu Chong nodded vigorously, then smiled that foolish grin again.
The hell are you smiling about?!
Just as Liu Chong was reaching out to take the paper doll, Xuanmin shook his head. “You can’t,” he said, his expression as placid as ever.
Guess you have some sense after all. Xue Xian calmed down after all his mental shrieking and sighed in relief. The paper doll, originally taut in Xuanmin’s grip, suddenly sagged, draping limp and soft, as if it had gone from half paralyzed to fully paralyzed.
Liu Chong looked seriously at Xuanmin and nodded again, but his expression was crestfallen. He knew nothing of people or the world, so he also knew nothing about tact or disguising his feelings. His disappointment was written all over his face.
Persons with disabilities tended to move slower and less nimbly than the average. At the same time, they put great strength and effort into every action, whether it was staring, articulating speech, or even nodding or shaking their heads. The resulting image might have been clumsy, but it tugged on the heartstrings.
Xue Xian hung between Xuanmin’s fingers like a limp noodle as he glanced at Liu Chong before firmly looking away. He feared the young man was a poison, one that would make others as stupid as he was. If Xue Xian observed Liu Chong any longer, he might lose his mind and jump right into the fool’s hands himself. Now, that would be something.
However, even more surprising was how Xuanmin acted with greater frankness than Liu Chong. The former completely ignored the latter’s disappointed expression. Instead, Xuanmin brazenly stepped forward into the shack—though, before that, he recalled the concept of courtesy (and shame) and nodded at Liu Chong.
Would it kill you to say one more word? If Liu Chong can understand what your nod means, I’ll change my family name to yours! Xue Xian thought.
Before Xue Xian could scoff, Liu Chong made it inside his little house first. He happily waved at Xuanmin and said, “Come in!”
Exactly like a child who’d found a playmate.
Xue Xian grimaced. I might as well just keep quiet and dangle here, he thought. After flailing around for so long, he had no choice but to settle.
Liu Chong pushed the half-open door wide open, revealing its interior in all its glory. The yellow paper ingots were everywhere, in far greater numbers than Xue Xian had glimpsed before. They weren’t just behind the door: Glancing around revealed that there was barely anywhere to stand.
Seeing the state of his eldest son’s living space, Scribe Liu turned his face away, his expression full of displeasure. He showed no intention of stepping inside and waited a few feet away from the door with his hands behind his back.
He was probably in turmoil right now. He wanted Xuanmin to help fix the feng shui of his residence, but he also wanted to drive the rude and tactless monk out. Anyone capable of reading the atmosphere would have reined in their behavior to avoid further offending their host. Unfortunately, Xuanmin didn’t care about that. Not only that, he wouldn’t even look at him! Scribe Liu could barely restrain his rage.
Liu Chong’s space was simply furnished, completely unlike what one would expect for a young master of the county scribe’s residence. Saying it looked like servant’s quarters would be no exaggeration. There was only a square table and two wooden chairs, as well as a bed that was too small for Liu Chong. In the already-tiny building, someone had even erected a pretentious partition to create an outer and inner chamber. It divided the bed from the table and chairs, adding to the cramped atmosphere. Everything there looked worn and aged, like they’d been used for years. The only splash of color came from the yellow ingots heaped everywhere.