AEDBE CHAPTER 11
A Eunuch’s Dream of Being Emperor by Li Ximin
CHAPTER 11
The Final Stretch of the Wall and a Departure in the Rain
The earthen city wall of Tang Town was nearing completion, with only the final touches remaining on the two gates. Formed by ramming sticky yellow clay into sturdy barriers a meter wide and roughly ten meters high, the finished ramparts were topped with dense thickets of sharpened moso bamboo. Even the most skilled martial artist would find scaling such a barrier an immense challenge. As Zhang Faqiang directed the men in hoisting the heavy wooden gate into place, a freezing, fine drizzle drifted down alongside a howling winter gale. Zhang Faqiang sighed inwardly, feeling he had just spent weeks laboring over a completely meaningless project. With little more than half a month left before the Lunar New Year, he worried how he would afford the celebration; instead of earning any money, the entire winter had been squandered on the city gates. He had spent no time making wooden buckets and basins to sell for cash, leaving him with no way to purchase cheap homespun cloth for new holiday clothes for his family—a tradition he always managed to uphold. Deep down, he resented Eunuch Li for dreaming up such a wretched, intrusive scheme, though he dared not voice his fury aloud, leaving him sullen and perpetually on edge.
On this bleak morning, the drizzle continued to sweep through the streets.
Li Hongtang turned to her brother and said, "Dongzi, I may be gone a bit longer on this journey. Be patient and wait for me at home. I want to bring Mother back before the New Year so we can finally spend a proper reunion together."
With tears in his eyes, Dongzi pleaded, "Elder Sister, please don't go. If Mother wanted to come home, she would have returned on her own. Where are you even going to look? You've searched for so long with nothing to show for it."
With unwavering resolve in her eyes, Hongtang replied, "I will find Mother!"
Dongzi could no more stop her than anyone could stop the relentless tide of strange and terrifying events washing over Tang Town.
Pulling her prematurely whitened hair into a neat bun, Hongtang wrapped it in a blue cloth headscarf. She then veiled her deeply wrinkled face with another piece of blue cotton, leaving only her clear, luminous eyes exposed. Donning a bamboo rain hat, she stepped out into the dreary morning. She traversed the damp, slick alleyways and headed toward the eastern edge of the town. Passing the Yulai Inn, she cast a brief, involuntary glance inside, but caught no sign of the foreign missionary.
As she passed through the arched portal of the newly built city gate and headed out toward the distant, mist-shrouded mountains, a solitary figure paused in her wake. Standing silently at the gate tunnel, the man watched her vanishing silhouette dissolve into the biting wind and cold rain, silent tears rolling down his cheeks.
It was Shangguan Wenqing, the diminutive dwarf of Tang Town.
Turning away, he made his way toward the Earth God Temple.
In these gloomy, charcoal-colored days, the newly built temple seemed to offer a faint glint of color and hope.
Heart heavy with desperate prayer, Wenqing stepped inside. He knelt before the clay statues of the Earth God and Earth Goddess, kowtowing ceaselessly while murmuring frantic pleas: "Merciful Earth God and Goddess, I beg you to help Li Hongtang find her mother quickly. Please keep her safe, free from illness and disaster, and let her hair turn black and her beauty return once more. I am willing to trade my very life for this. For her, I am willing to die—"
The two painted clay figures stared down with benevolent, unblinking serenity.
The Dwarf, the Missionary, and the Breaking Point
Wenqing kowtowed so violently that his forehead split open, blood pooling against the dirt floor, yet the clay idols remained entirely indifferent.
A splitting agony wracked Wenqing's skull, as if his head were fracturing along a dozen invisible seams. Clasping his temples with both hands, he tried frantically to press the splitting pieces back together. Yet the blinding pain only intensified; it felt as though his skull, his facial bones, and his very flesh were shrinking inward. Gritting his teeth against the excruciating agony, he cried out to the empty shrine: "Earth God, Earth Goddess, open your eyes! Let Hongtang find her mother! Let her hair turn black and her face be restored! If she carries any sin, let me bear the punishment in her stead. Do not let her lose her mother, and do not let her beauty fade away—"
At that moment, missionary John stepped into the temple.
His towering frame made the modest shrine feel claustrophobic, creating a stark visual contrast with the diminutive Wenqing—a true giant standing beside a pocket-sized dwarf. Kneeling beside him, John gently lifted the trembling, tormented dwarf to his feet. Seeing the fresh stream of blood trickling down Wenqing's forehead, John pulled a pristine white handkerchief from his pocket and tenderly wiped away the crimson stain.
"Poor child," John murmured softly. "You are terribly ill! You must place your health entirely in the hands of the Lord, for we are never truly masters of our own fates. Entrusting your well-being completely to God is the truest form of trust. Whatever trials or illnesses may come, rely wholly on His tender care. Through suffering, we find a joy that surpasses pain, for hardship tempers the soul and breaks our reliance on ourselves alone. Believe in the Lord, and He shall save you!"
Wenqing gazed mutely into the missionary's deep, cerulean eyes, his face expressionless. He felt no shock at John's exotic, alien appearance; after all, as a grotesque dwarf, he lived as an outsider himself. He believed that the world could hold all manner of creatures, and that regardless of physical beauty or ugliness, every living soul possessed a heart capable of goodness, of loving and being loved—which made him uniquely empathetic.
After a moment of silence, Wenqing whispered, "What is 'God'?"
With a warm smile, John answered, "God is the only true God, Almighty and supreme. We are all His children".
"What about the Earth God?" Wenqing asked.
John shook his head. "The Earth God is no true deity. Only God is divine, and only He can grant true blessings. Believe in Him, and you shall be saved".
"Is that the truth?" Wenqing asked.
John nodded firmly. "I will tell you a true story. Not long after I arrived in China, I visited a village and met a young boy dying of consumption, bedridden and breathing his last. When I approached him, he opened his eyes and declared his faith in the Lord, begging for baptism. And lo, he was saved! His health returned rapidly, and he blossomed into a joyful young man".
Wenqing's eyes widened. "If I believe, can the Lord help Hongtang find her mother? Can He turn her white hair black again? Can He—"
John nodded with absolute conviction. "With God, all things are possible!"
Before Wenqing could reply, a harsh voice cut through the doorway. Wang Hairong stood outside the temple threshold, barking angrily, "Wenqing, don't listen to this red-haired ghost's lies! His Majesty has explicitly warned us that these foreign devils are here to ruin Tang Town!"
John rose to his feet and faced Wang Hairong directly. "I am no demon, and I have never harmed a living soul. I am a messenger of God!"
Wang spat a heavy glob of phlegm onto the threshold. "Bah! Everything you say is deceitful garbage!"
"I am not lying, I am not!" John protested passionately. "You have no right to slander me!"
Stunned and dazed, Wenqing stood frozen as a whirlwind of chaotic thoughts churned in his mind.
After both John and Wang Hairong departed, Wenqing muttered into the empty air, "If believing in this God can make everything right for Hongtang, what harm is there in believing?" He recalled how John, just before leaving, had turned back to cast a long, deeply meaningful glance his way—a parting look that carried an unsettling, melancholic weight.
Stepping out of the shrine into the dreary drizzle, Wenqing stared out toward the distant mountains. What was the person he cared for most doing at this very moment? He had no way of knowing.
The only thing left in his power was to pray.
As he stood there, a heavy, calloused hand landed gently upon his head, accompanied by a rumbling, sorrowful voice: "Child, what are you standing out here staring at?"
Blinking away his tears, Wenqing raised his gaze to find the weathered, bronze-skinned, furrowed face of his father, Shangguan Qingqiu.
Wenqing shuddered instinctively. Never in his entire life had he witnessed such a tender expression on his father's face, nor had he ever felt the warmth of such a comforting touch.
With sudden, raw emotion, Shangguan Qingqiu choked out, "My boy... your mother was right. No matter what, you are my own flesh and blood; I cannot remain so cold and heartless toward you. Come, child, let me take you to Old Herbalist Zheng once more. He must find a way to treat you—I cannot bear to watch you waste away like this any longer".
Paralyzed by shock, Wenqing could not utter a single word.
Dongzi's Adoption and the Departure
Meanwhile, the rumor that Li Cilin intended to adopt out Dongzi to Eunuch Li spread like wildfire through the damp, dreary alleys of Tang Town. Many whispered that Dongzi was a remarkably lucky boy—that everyone's fate was predestined by heaven. Dongzi himself, however, was consumed by grief. He knew that before his sister returned from her grueling quest, he would be forcibly whisked away to the fortified seclusion of the Li family estate, as Li Cilin had already formally informed him. He wondered with a sinking heart how his sister would react when she returned to find him gone.
All morning, Dongzi sat motionless by the loft window, staring blankly down at the drizzly street. Aba sat beside him in heavy silence, terrified that once Dongzi moved into the grand Li manor, he would abandon their friendship, leaving Aba isolated and profoundly lonely.
To the shock of the townsfolk, Eunuch Li dispatched a lavish, four-bearer sedan chair directly to their doorstep.
As the velvet-curtained sedan touched down before the house, curious neighbors flooded the lane to gawk. Stepping inside the courtyard, Li Cilin barked up the stairs, "Dongzi, get down here right now!"
Dongzi had already spotted the ornate litter emerging from Xinglong Alley, flanked by his swaggering father and watched with trembling anxiety by old Li Shihuai from a shadowed corner. Though his parents had never spoken of it directly, Dongzi had once overheard rumors that the old man was supposedly responsible for murdering his grandfather; yet looking at the frail, broken old man, Dongzi found it impossible to believe he was capable of such monstrous malice. Shaking off the dark thought—after all, his grandfather's death felt like a distant, hazy legend detached from his own life—Dongzi stood up, followed by Aba.
With a bitter, melancholy smile, Dongzi told him, "Aba, I have to go."
Aba's face crumpled, utterly at a loss for words.
"Don't be sad, Aba," Dongzi comforted him. "I'm not vanishing like Mother; I'll still be right here in Tang Town, and I'll sneak out to play with you. When summer comes, we'll go down to the river together to swim and catch fish."
Tears brimming in his eyes, Aba nodded wordlessly.
From downstairs, Li Cilin's voice roared impatiently, "Dongzi! Did you hear me? Get down here this instant!"
Powerless before his father's intimidation, Dongzi answered softly and descended the ladder, Aba trailing close behind. The moment they reached the ground floor, Li Cilin intercepted Aba, sneering with bared teeth, "Listen to me, boy—don't you ever go looking for Dongzi to play again, you understand? You two are no longer in the same world!"
Terrified, Aba bolted out the door, running straight into the arms of Zhang Faqiang, who had rushed over. Catching the boy by the shoulders, Zhang Faqiang watched in heavy silence as Dongzi climbed into the sedan chair and was hoisted into the air, carried away amidst a bustling entourage. Li Cilin cast a bizarre, cold glance at Zhang Faqiang, who suddenly realized that his once-friendly neighbor had transformed into a stranger; they no longer walked the same path.
As the sedan disappeared down the lane, Aba burst into open sobs.
Zhang Faqiang felt a deep ache in his chest, grieving primarily for Li Hongtang. What would she think when she returned home to find herself entirely alone? She was, without a doubt, the purest and kindest soul in town. Patting his son's head, Zhang whispered, "Don't cry, Aba. Dongzi won't forget you."
Hunchback Li shuffled over, letting out a heavy sigh. "A tragic sin, all of it..."
Shen Zhuniang, happening to pass by at that moment, scoffed loudly, "Hunchback, shut your trap and mind your own business, unless you're aching to have your mouth slapped with a shoe sole!"
"The only one getting their mouth slapped with a shoe sole is you!" Hunchback Li retorted sharply.
Shameless as ever, Shen Zhuniang smirked, "I'd gladly take the beating just to infuriate you!"
With a cold, indifferent smile, Li Hunchback replied, "Why should I waste my anger on the likes of you? Don't assume that because you've latched onto some powerful master, nobody dares touch you. Mark my words and watch your step—things in this town aren't nearly as simple as you think!"
With that, he turned and walked away.
Sighing deeply, Zhang Faqiang took his son's hand and retreated indoors, knowing he had to return to his carpentry work—the New Year would arrive in the blink of an eye.
As Dongzi was being carried toward the looming gates of the Li estate, missionary John stood by the roadside, gazing with a dazed, melancholic expression at the boy riding inside the sedan chair, as though witnessing a profound tragedy unfold. Li Cilin, passing close by, shot the foreigner a venomous glare and spat a malicious curse, though John paid no attention to his hostility. Unyielding in his mission, John refused to be intimidated by threats; he placed his absolute faith in the power of God and his own calling. Over the past two days in Tang Town, he had visited numerous impoverished households, preaching the sacred grace of the Lord and distributing small bronze coins to families in need, telling them the provisions were gifts bestowed by heaven.
The Snowfall and the Threat in the Night
On the very afternoon Dongzi entered the Li compound, the weather shifted violently. The bitter chill suddenly intensified, and the fine winter drizzle instantly transformed into heavy, driving snowflakes. The storm escalated rapidly, blanketing the sky and earth in an unbroken sheet of pristine white.
By early evening, as thick flakes continued to drift down, John stepped out onto the lane and watched local children joyfully building snowmen. Aba was among them, though his face bore a heavy, melancholy cloud—he was clearly far from happy. To John, the falling snow carried a profound, sacred purity that stirred fond memories of celebrating Christmas in his distant homeland, awakening a childlike warmth within his chest. He walked over and joined Aba in shaping a snowman. Sensing an approachable, gentle warmth beneath the missionary's deep blue eyes, Aba gradually let down his guard.
"If only Dongzi were here," Aba murmured wistfully.
With a gentle smile, John asked, "Who is Dongzi?"
"My best friend," Aba replied sadly.
"Your brother?"
Aba nodded.
"Where is he now?"
"He was taken into the grand Li estate this afternoon," Aba said, his voice dropping. "I don't know what he's doing in there—do you think he's building snowmen?"
John suddenly remembered. "Ah, the handsome young boy carried away in the sedan chair this afternoon?"
Aba nodded.
"It's clear you're very unhappy," John observed gently.
"Dongzi won't be happy in there either," Aba whispered.
John fell silent.
Treading through the fresh snow, John eventually made his way to the front of Hu's cookshop. Inside, two armed militia members sat drinking wine; one of them was none of other than Wang Hairong, the man who had cursed him at the temple. Seated facing the entrance, Wang shot John a glance brimming with inexplicable hatred and disgust. Feeling the hostile daggers in the man's eyes, John felt no fear; he calmly stepped directly into the cookshop.
Addressing Hu Xilai, who bustled anxiously behind the stove, John said, "Boss Hu, please prepare something simple for me to eat".
Flustered and deeply uncomfortable, Hu glanced nervously between Wang Hairong and the missionary, entirely at a loss.
Reading the man's distress with a quiet smile, John offered, "It's no trouble, Boss Hu. Just throw together whatever is convenient, and I will pay you double".
Wringing his hands, Hu stammered, "It's not about the money, sir... it's just that Commander Wang has reserved the entire shop for the evening".
"Ah, I understand. No matter, no matter—I will eat elsewhere," John replied gracefully.
Turning on his heel, he headed back across the street toward the Yulai Inn. A cold, sinister sneer crept across Wang Hairong's face. Observing this chilling expression, Hu Xilai felt a profound sense of revulsion; Wang had historically been a timid, honest soul in Tang Town, yet transforming into a militia member had warped him into something vicious and sinister. Hu realized with a shiver of terror that these ordinary young men, once enlisted and brainwashed, harbored a cold, lethal killing intent that made them untouchable. Tang Town truly was on the brink of an apocalyptic shift, Hu thought with mounting dread.
Upon stepping into the Yulai Inn, innkeeper Yu Cheng greeted him with an anxious, plastered-on smile. "Ah, honored guest, you're back! I've already heated your foot-washing water; the boy will bring it up shortly".
"Thank you, thank you!" John replied.
Sensing Yu's hesitation, John paused. "Is something troubling you, Boss Yu?"
Wringing his hands helplessly, Yu stammered, "Well... our local Sovereign has passed down an order. He asks that you spend only this final night here, and depart Tang Town tomorrow morning. I won't charge you for tonight's lodging, of course..."
Puzzled, John frowned. "Sovereign? The Emperor in Beijing knows of me? Knows I am in Tang Town?"
"No, no," Yu explained hastily. "Our own local Sovereign here in Tang Town."
Thoughtfully, John replied, "I see. Tell your Sovereign that while I am willing to find another place to sleep, I will not leave Tang Town. These people need salvation, and they need the gospel of the Lord."
Bowing obsequiously, Yu muttered, "Yes, yes..."
John retired upstairs.
The Opera in the Snow and the Abduction
As night deepened, the snow cast a luminous white glow across the quiet streets of Tang Town. Suddenly, the eerie, theatrical strains of traditional opera drifted through the cold air. Surprised by an unannounced performance in the dead of winter, some townsfolk rolled over and went back to sleep, while die-hard opera fans braved the freezing chill, pulling on their clothes and wading through the snow toward the gates of the Li estate. With the east and west city gates tightly sealed and guarded by militia patrols, Tang Town truly felt like an isolated, independent kingdom.
Aba heard the operatic strains as well.
"Zhao Hongyan... Zhao Hongyan..." he whispered, a starry-eyed, desperate yearning flashing in his gaze. Hastily dressing, he slipped out into the night, his boots crunching loudly against the thick carpet of snow as he hurried toward Xinglong Alley. A few townsfolk trudged back in the opposite direction, looking dejected and exhausted, though Aba paid them no mind.
When he reached the imposing gates of the Li estate, the area was deserted—no opera stage was in sight, yet the ethereal, ringing voice of the singer continued to pierce the freezing night air. Pressing his freezing, red face and numb hands against the crimson-lacquered wooden doors, Aba exhaled warm streams of breath. He was certain it was Zhao Hongyan singing; her voice cut straight through the frozen night to warm his soul. Closing his eyes, he imagined her brilliant, sparkling eyes and pearly smile so vividly that he felt as though he could reach out and touch her. He felt a wave of bliss so intoxicating that his body felt light enough to drift away like a snowflake.
Meanwhile, inside the luxurious chambers of the inner courtyard, Dongzi sat alongside Eunuch Li and the town's most learned scholar, Old Man Yu, in a second-floor private box directly opposite the opera pavilion. Dongzi recalled Aba's earlier insistence that the opera troupe was still trapped inside the Li estate; at the time, Dongzi hadn't cared. Now, marveling at Aba's uncanny accuracy, Dongzi felt a pang of guilt, wishing he could tell Eunuch Li to let Aba inside to watch the performance.
Since entering the estate, Dongzi felt like a caged bird, suffocated by luxury and stripped of joy. He wondered why the troupe's quarters had remained deathly silent during the day, emitting no sound at all. Both Eunuch Li and Scholar Yu were utterly transfixed by the performance, Yu swaying his head and humming along to the cadence. In neighboring boxes sat clan patriarchs like Zhu Yinshan—the elite pillars of Tang Town—who had witnessed Dongzi's formal adoption ceremony earlier that evening. Eunuch Li had decreed that Dongzi must study literature and classics under Scholar Yu, grooming him not as a eunuch, but as the cultured, educated future ruler of Tang Town. In the dark recesses of the eunuch's psyche, Dongzi represented his own lost childhood; through the boy, he sought to live a second life. This grand opera served a dual purpose: celebrating Dongzi's ascension and gratifying Scholar Yu.
The performance stretched deep into the midnight hours, leaving the townspeople restless and sleepless, acutely reminded of the unbridgeable gulf separating commoners from the ruling elite.
It was only when the banquet concluded and the patriarchs finally stepped outside that they discovered Aba, half-frozen and unconscious against the gates. Dragged back home just in time, Aba fell deathly ill with a raging fever. Zhao Hongyan's golden voice had brought him neither warmth nor joy, mirroring the bleak, oppressive shadow hanging over Tang Town.
The Abduction at the Yulai Inn
Across town, missionary John also heard Zhao Hongyan's melodious voice. Lying in bed with his eyes closed, he imagined what kind of beauty possessed such a voice. He had considered going out to watch, but fear of nighttime assassination held him back—a peril he had narrowly survived in other hostile lands. Before turning in, he bolted his doors and windows securely, shoving a heavy table against the panels for added reinforcement. While he usually extinguished his lamp to sleep, tonight he left the small oil tin burning. The flickering, bean-sized flame cast a comforting, resilient glow against the bitter hardships of the winter night.
John harbored no fear of threats; he drew unshakeable strength from his faith. He refused to abandon Tang Town, determined to baptize the suffering locals and establish a proper church where they could worship and confess their sins. His immediate target was Shangguan Wenqing, the wasting dwarf. Believing Wenqing suffered from a rare, ancient affliction known as "skeleton-shrinking disease," John hoped to save him through baptism, demonstrating the miraculous love and power of God to the skeptical town. With a serene smile, John drifted into peaceful slumber, his fingers tightly clutching the crucifix resting against his chest.
At the third watch, the night watchman strolled down the snowy street, his melodic, drawn-out chant piercing the stillness: "Third watch has arrived... fire and candles beware, tend your hearth with care—"
The watchman's cries faded, leaving the town to absolute silence.
Moments later, several masked figures slipped silently into the Yulai Inn. The lodge was pitch black and deserted, the gamblers entirely absent.
When John snapped his eyes open, he found several dark silhouettes towering over his bed. He bolted upright, demanding harshly, "Who are you?!"
A chilling laugh echoed in the dark. "Red-haired ghost, spare your questions! We gave you a graceful exit and you refused to take it. You chose to walk straight into hell! Today we take you to a blissful paradise so you can meet your God! Brothers, tie this foreign devil up!"
As John opened his mouth to shout, the intruders lunged forward, pinning him down and shoving a foul rag deep into his mouth. Within seconds, he was bound tightly from head to toe, utterly paralyzed and realizing the grim finality of his fate. They hoisted his struggling body into a massive burlap sack, plunging him into absolute, inescapable darkness as the warm glow of the oil lamp faded away from the English missionary forever.
A piercing, agonizing horse shriek suddenly tore through the frozen night of Tang Town—the desperate, heartbreaking wail of John's chestnut bay horse.
The Secret Beneath the Floorboards
Back at the Li estate, Dongzi had been assigned to the very same suite he had occupied during his previous terrifying stay. The residential wing of the Canglong Compound housed only three people: Eunuch Li, Dongzi, and Nurse Wu. Eunuch Li occupied the right side chamber, Dongzi the left, and Nurse Wu a detached side room, leaving dozens of empty, echoing chambers standing vacant. Dongzi wished desperately that those empty rooms could be filled by his sister and Aba.
Following the opera, Eunuch Li had taken Dongzi's hand, escorting him to his quarters under the guidance of a lantern-wielding guard. A glowing copper brazier radiated comforting warmth through the room. "Do you like it here, Dongzi?" the eunuch asked, his gaze carrying an intimidating, invisible weight. Terrified to voice his true desire—to return to his cold but loving home and wait for his sister—Dongzi could only offer a panicked, compliant nod. Eunuch Li reached out, his skin unnaturally smooth and chillingly devoid of warmth, trailing a dead, reptilian touch across the boy's cheek.
"Get some rest, Dongzi. If you need anything, call for Nurse Wu or myself. This is your home now".
"Goodnight, Grandfather Emperor!" Dongzi bowed dutifully, repeating the title Li Cilin had drilled into him that afternoon. According to lineage, Cilin was Eunuch Li's nephew, making Dongzi technically a great-nephew; however, calling him "grandfather" bypassed the awkward absurdity of adopting a eunuch as a father, while ensuring the eunuch finally had an heir.
"Good boy!" Eunuch Li smiled in deep satisfaction.
Once left alone, Dongzi surveyed the room that had once haunted his nightmares, his heart hammering against his ribs. Two thick red candles burned in heavy bronze candlesticks, replacing the old oil lamp. Yet despite the warm glow, Dongzi feared the creeping chill of ghostly phantoms. Crawling into bed, his thoughts drifted to his sister braving the snowy mountain path and his missing mother.
He imagined Hongtang freezing and weeping in the storm, calling out for their mother, only to be ambushed by a towering black shadow that sneered, * Your mother is dead, you'll never find her!*—only for the shadow to mutate into a ravenous wolf...
A sudden, suffocating reek of fresh blood hit his senses.
Gasping in sheer terror, Dongzi bolted upright in bed, drenched in cold sweat. The room remained dead silent, the brazier glowing warmly, but his bladder felt fit to burst. Leaping out of bed, he rushed to the chamber pot in the corner, lifted the lid, and relieved himself.
As he caught his breath, shivering in his sweat-soaked underclothes, a wild impulse urged him to bolt out the door, escape the estate, and run home. But Cilin's stern, menacing warnings from earlier echoed in his ears: "From today on, you are no longer my son! You are the imperial grandson of Emperor Shunde... you can never step foot outside these gates without permission, not even for me! Keep your head down, study with Scholar Yu, and see nothing, hear nothing, say nothing!"
Paralyzed by fear, Dongzi stayed put.
Then, a faint, harrowing sound caught his ear.
It was the weeping of a woman—sharp one moment, ethereal and distant the next. Holding his breath, Dongzi strained his ears.
The sound was rising from directly beneath his bed!
Crawling to the edge of the carved wooden bedframe, Dongzi dropped to his knees and pressed his ear to the floorboards. Goosebumps erupted across his entire body—the crying was unquestionably coming from under the floor. Driven by an irresistible, heart-pounding mix of terror and insatiable curiosity, Dongzi lifted one of the heavy bronze candlesticks, placed it on the floor, and crouched down to peer beneath the bed. The space was completely empty, yet the muffled sobbing persisted.
Could there be a hidden space beneath the foundation?
Daringly, Dongzi slipped his fingers into the gaps between the paving bricks near the bedpost. Finding a loose brick, he tugged it free. As the brick came out, the woman's weeping grew jarringly clear, revealing a layer of thick wooden planking underneath. Overcoming his dread, Dongzi pried out more bricks until a square meter of wooden flooring lay exposed.
Prying up the heavy planks with trembling hands, a dark, suffocating void yawned open before him. The weeping echoed clearly from the abyss, accompanied by a wooden ladder leading down into the pitch-black depths.
Swallowing his terror, Dongzi whispered to himself, "You've seen corpses in the grass and hanging actors on the stage... you're a brave boy, Dongzi, you won't turn back now..."
Clutching the candlestick, he descended cautiously into the subterranean crawlspace. The air inside was stifling, thick with a foul, rotting stench reminiscent of decaying rodents. By the flickering candlelight, he saw two diverging tunnels stretching into impenetrable darkness. Unsure which path to follow, he paused as the woman's haunting sobs echoed from the left passage.
The Secret Behind the Door
Elsewhere in the compound, Li Cilin and Li Saogu sat drinking rice wine. Cilin's eyes were bloodshot as he slammed down an empty bowl.
Saogu, nursing his own bowl with a tense, drawn face, probed cautiously, "Cousin... after we finish drinking, are you heading over to the Huanhua Courtyard again?"
Cilin shot him a withering glare. "Useless parasite, all you ever think about is between a woman's legs! What business is it of yours where I go? Drink your wine and crawl home to your own wife!"
"That's not what I meant..." Saogu stammered defensively.
"Then what did you mean?" Cilin sneered. "Listen to me, Li Saogu—when I treat you like a human being, you're my cousin and deputy commander, living high on the hog. When I don't, you're less than a stray dog! So stay out of my business, and keep your hands off my women!"
Flushing with humiliation, Saogu babbled, "Cousin, you misunderstood, I wouldn't dare interfere... I only meant it's late, so you should rest early for your health's sake!"
Cilin let out a harsh laugh. "Ha! Worrying about my health? Hoping I'll drop dead so you can steal my position, aren't you? Back when Li Shihuai bullied me, you and the rest of the clan hid like plague rats! Not a single one of you spoke up until kind old Uncle Wang took me in!"
Sweat beading on his forehead, Saogu protested, "Cousin, you're talking crazy! I never thought anything of the sort, I swear!"
Downing another bowl, Cilin waved a hand dismissively. "Fine, fine, I'm in a foul mood and talking nonsense. Forget it—just stay in line, and I'll make sure you get your share."
Nodding frantically like a pecking chicken, Saogu swore eternal loyalty.
Exiting Cilin's quarters into the snowy courtyard, Saogu spat a heavy glob of phlegm into the snow once out of sight. Bah! I risk my neck for you, yet you won't even let me touch an opera actress, keeping all the beauties to yourself every single night!
Hearing footsteps approaching, he ducked behind a decorative rockery.
A drunken Li Cilin staggered out of the room, weaving toward the Huanhua Courtyard. Unlocking the heavy bronze gate with a key, Cilin slipped inside and slammed the iron-reinforced door shut.
Fuming with suppressed rage, Saogu glared at the locked portal, grinding his teeth. Li Cilin, you greedy bastard! There are several young actresses in that troupe, couldn't you spare even one for me? You can't possibly service them all! Zhao Hongyan is out of my league, but surely a maid could be spared! You're too cruel, Cilin!
Suddenly, a phantom breath chilled the back of his neck.
Startled out of his skin, Saogu whipped around, shouting, "Who's there—?!"
The courtyard was entirely empty.
Meanwhile, deep within the subterranean tunnels, Dongzi followed the weeping down the left-hand passage. After navigating the claustrophobic earthen pipe for a short distance, he spotted a faint wedge of warm light spilling across the dirt floor ahead. His heart leaped into his throat; the sobbing was definitely originating from behind that barrier. A sudden wave of intense panic paralyzed him—what horrors lay hidden behind that door? He considered fleeing back to his room, but stubborn curiosity rooted him to the spot. Steeling his nerves, he crept forward in absolute silence until he reached the glowing seam of a heavy wooden door.
The air in the tunnel grew stiflingly hot, bathing Dongzi in nervous sweat.
Pressing his eye directly against the crack in the timber, Dongzi peered inside.
His breath hitched, and he nearly screamed aloud in unadulterated horror.
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