The firelight in Xuanmin’s hand perfectly lit Lu Shijiu’s face, revealing the subtle transformations taking place on his ash-pale skin. Faint marks began to emerge on his forehead, scattered right between his brows, resembling new moles poised to sprout. They mirrored the ones originally on Lu Nianqi’s forehead.
“But I can touch you. Why aren’t you moving?” Lu Nianqi struggled to suppress the lump in his throat. He repeated the sentence twice, as if trying to convince himself. “Look, I can grab your hand. There’s no difference between you and ordinary people. Didn’t they say… Didn’t they say you can’t touch ghosts…?”
Stubbornly fixing his eyes on Lu Shijiu, Lu Nianqi suddenly realized that his sight was blurred—he couldn’t see his older brother clearly anymore.
Sniffling, Lu Nianqi reached up to rub his eyes, and his hand came away wet. When he raised his head, he still couldn’t see.
“Stop rubbing your eyes.” Lu Shijiu sighed softy and shoved the bundle of sticks into Lu Nianqi’s hands. Then, he grabbed his younger brother and slowly dragged him up the steps.
The more Lu Shijiu told Lu Nianqi not to rub his eyes, the harder the latter did, until he pulled away and stood there with his hands over them, completely refusing to move.
Off to the side, Old Man Liu hobbled a few steps forward and bent down by a wall. He returned to the steps a moment later and handed the things he was carrying to Lu Nianqi.
“This is Uncle Liu’s money pouch,” Lu Shijiu said. “The boat fare he collected some time back is here, along with the herb seeds he collected for Aunt Liu. It’ll help with her headaches.” When Lu Shijiu finished speaking for Old Man Liu, he went quiet.
There was a long silence.
“I don’t have anything else to give you…” Lu Shijiu said at last. He placed his hand on Lu Nianqi’s head. “I’m going to find Dad now. Don’t forget to burn some papers for us during Tomb-Sweeping Day and the Ghost Festival. Burning them will guarantee your joy and longevity, as well as plentiful descendants.”
With that, he gently patted his brother thrice, then withdrew his hand.
Lu Nianqi felt coolness dispersing from the top of his head, and his heart instantly chilled. He wiped away his tears and looked up, only to find everything still blurry. As he tried to make out what he was seeing through that veil of fog, he realized that Lu Shijiu and Old Man Liu had disappeared. He wiped at his eyes again before spotting a dark shadow twenty yards away.
Xuanmin went over and shone the light, revealing two figures collapsed next to the wall of the passage.
The smell of tree sap was even stronger here. The closer he drew, the more potent it was. He saw the bloodstains smeared on the wall and understood: Lu Shijiu and Old Man Liu had wounds on their backs and necks that had allowed the toxic fluid to seep in when they leaned against the wall.
As Lu Shijiu had fallen, he’d drawn a circle surrounded by complex runes in his own blood on the ground. It was a chilling sight, and most bizarre were the numerous copper coins scattered around the array. Despite their disordered appearance, they’d actually been placed in accordance with the stars and constellations overhead.
Xuanmin guessed the sequence of events. The four strings of coins that Lu Nianqi had shouted about losing had been swiped by the deceased Lu Shijiu himself using condensed spiritual energy. After all, the objects needed for a life-exchange array were very specific.
Despite standing there beside Xuanmin, Lu Nianqi was unable to see any of this. His mind and vision were prepossessed with the sight of Lu Shijiu lying there. The ground was too cold, so he wanted to help Lu Shijiu off of it. Inadvertently, when Lu Nianqi stepped forward, he walked into the circle.
Xuanmin watched as the circle of dried brown blood turned vibrant again. The spot between Lu Nianqi’s brows and the cut on his palm both shone with a bloody glow—but before anyone could blink, the light was gone.
A wisp of mist escaped from the mouth of Lu Shijiu’s icy, long-rigid body. It circled around Lu Nianqi three times, as if some kind of ritual had been completed at last, then bowed in Xuanmin’s direction.
With that, this final favor was complete. If not for the Lu family, both father and son, Lu Shijiu probably would have died in that temple thirteen years ago. Now, he’d swapped his life for a life. To him, it was well worth it; his wish had been fulfilled. It was just too bad that, from now on, he’d have to burden Lu Nianqi with placing another lantern on the river during the Ghost Festival.
As he faded, he wondered if his younger brother would cry.