AEDBE CHAPTER 5

A Eunuch’s Dream of Being Emperor by Li Ximin

CHAPTER 5

What the man had feared finally came to pass.

Hu Tiansheng plummeted from the lofty branches of the ancient camphor tree like a giant bird with broken wings. Hearing the dull, heavy thud of Tiansheng's body striking the ground, the man froze in utter shock. It took him a long, agonizing stretch to snap out of his stupor and lunge forward. Tiansheng lay face down against the earth; turning the boy's frail body over, the man was met with the horrifying sight of blood streaming from all seven facial orifices. A raw, heartbroken wail tore from the man's chest: "Child, what on earth possessed you to climb up this tree to play?! Are you out of your mind? Who in their right mind would dare show disrespect to this sacred tree!"

Without a moment's hesitation, the man scooped up Tiansheng's limp, lifeless body and bolted at a dead run toward the narrow streets of Tang Town.

Hu Tiansheng was dead. His frail frame grew progressively cold and rigid upon the sickbed inside old apothecary Zheng's herbal shop, his pockets still containing that half-eaten piece of maltose candy. Tiansheng's mother collapsed over his corpse, sobbing and howling uncontrollably: "My precious baby, how could you be so cruel? How could you ruthlessly abandon me like this—" Standing nearby, his older brother wept tears that flowed in a steady, shuddering torrent. Though Hu Xilai's eyes pooled with accumulated tears, they stubbornly refused to spill over. With a face the color of hammered iron, he suddenly lunged toward old man Zheng, grabbed him by the lapels, and bellowed, "Aren't you supposed to be a miracle doctor? Why couldn't you save my son? Why, tell me why—" Flushing bright red and gasping for breath, old apothecary Zheng stammered, "You, you, let go of me, let go! Your son's death has nothing to do with me, I—I've already done everything in my power—"

From his vantage point in the attic, Dongzi watched as Hu Xilai carried Tiansheng's corpse back home. A large crowd trailed in his wake; someone urged, "You can't keep a child's body inside the house, nor can you leave it in the town—hurry up and carry it out to the mountains to be buried!" Ignoring the warnings entirely, Hu Xilai stubbornly carried his son's body straight into the house. Tang Town harbored an entrenched tradition: anyone who died before reaching the milestone age of sixty was designated a premature ghost, doomed to transform into a malignant vengeful spirit after death—especially children. Consequently, the people of Tang Town never permitted such corpses to be laid out inside a residence; if someone died indoors, they were meant to be immediately hoisted away and buried in the hills beyond the settlement boundaries, while those who perished outside the town limits were barred from ever crossing back through its gates.

A creeping prickle of numbness surged across Dongzi's scalp. The very tragedy he had prayed to avoid had come to pass. He knew with absolute, chilling clarity that the arsonist who had set fire to the blacksmith shop was none other than Hu Tiansheng. Yet instead of perishing at the hands of the enraged townsfolk, Tiansheng had met his end by plunging inexplicably from the ancient camphor tree outside the Earth God Temple.

A bone-deep, glacial coldness gripped Dongzi's chest.

An absurd, haunting thought crossed his mind: Did I somehow cause Hu Tiansheng's death?

Even more baffling to Dongzi was the fact that the instant Tiansheng died, the relentless hammering inside the blacksmith's shop abruptly ceased. The sudden absence of that noise left an unsettling void of loss in Dongzi's heart. With the hammering gone, the narrow streets of Tang Town echoed exclusively with the agonizing shrieks of Hu Tiansheng's grieving mother.

Sitting alone in the attic, Dongzi racked his brain in desperate contemplation, yet every question remained locked behind an impenetrable wall of confusion.

At that moment, the sound of creaking stairs heralded Abao's ascent.

Sinking down beside Dongzi, Abao glanced sideways at his silently brooding companion without uttering a word. Abao's emotional state remained perpetually tethered to Dongzi's: when Dongzi rejoiced, Abao rejoiced; when Dongzi sorrowed, Abao sorrowed; when Dongzi fell silent, Abao followed suit.

Dongzi broke the quiet first: "Abao, do you think people still crave maltose candy after they die?"

Shaking his head, Abao replied, "I don't know. I've never died before."

Dongzi murmured, "Shouldn't we send a paper horse to Tiansheng?"

Confused, Abao asked, "Why? He isn't your uncle."

"We still ought to send him one," Dongzi insisted. "Only I don't have any money, and Uncle Hunchback might not be willing to give me one on credit."

Sighing, Abao lamented, "It's a pity I'm broke too, otherwise I'd lend it to you."

"If only Mum were here," Dongzi sighed. "If I asked her for money, she'd definitely give it to me."

Abao checked, "Is Big Sister still out looking for your mum?"

Nodding stiffly, Dongzi replied, "I don't know when she'll ever find her."

Abao offered words of comfort: "She'll find her, Dongzi, your mum is bound to come back. I dreamt of her coming home last night, and she brought back a whole bunch of wild mountain fruit. You even invited me over to eat them—they were plump, juicy, and so sweet!"

"Really?" Dongzi asked.

Nodding vigorously, Abao affirmed, "Really, so sweet!"

Swallowing hard against a sudden rush of saliva, Dongzi whispered, "Why can't I ever dream of Mum?"

Abao had no answer for him, just as he could not explain why Hu Tiansheng had died. Shifting topics, he blurted out, "Oh, Dongzi, Hu Tiansheng's father came by my house just now. He begged my dad to craft a coffin for Tiansheng. My dad told him he's never built coffins before and suggested he find Master Hong over in Yanggu Village who specializes in them, but Hu said it's too far and there's no time. My dad was put in a terrible spot, not knowing what to do. And then, Hu Tiansheng actually dropped to his knees before my dad, crying and begging—he said he'd pay any price, even if it meant ruining his family, just to get a proper coffin to bury Tiansheng with dignity. You know how honest and soft-hearted my dad is; he got choked up with grief and ended up agreeing to build him a small coffin."

Dongzi scoffed, "Hu Tiansheng's old man is stingy enough to squeeze oil out of a copper coin!"

"I know," Abao agreed. "I can't wrap my head around it either."

Falling silent once more, Dongzi hadn't spoken this many words to Abao in a single stretch since his mother's disappearance. Abruptly pushing himself to his feet, he trotted down the stairs and headed out the door, with Abao trailing closely at his heels. Halting before the threshold of Hunchback Li's funeral shop, Dongzi stopped.

Hunchback Li stood inside with his back to the door, weaving bamboo strips together; his hunched upper back blocked any view of the back of his head, highlighting only the monstrous hump protruding from his spine. Dongzi found it peculiar: the shop, normally crammed to bursting with paper figures, paper horses, and paper manors, stood entirely vacant. Where on earth did all those items go?

Seemingly endowed with eyes upon his heavy hump, Hunchback Li called out from the depths of the shop: "That's Dongzi out there, isn't it? Are you looking for a paper horse to send off Tiansheng?"

Astonished, Dongzi wondered how Hunchback Li always managed to read his mind.

"Run along back home, children. All the paper figures and horses in the shop were bought out by Hu Tiansheng's father. Hu really spared no expense! In all my years running a shop in Tang Town, I've never seen anyone spend so lavishly on funerary goods for a premature death; Hu Tiansheng's father is the very first. He truly adored that boy! Such a pity about poor Tiansheng, gone just like that... Oh, and a word of advice: don't go poking around the Hu household to gawk. You're too young, stay far away from corpses."

Listening to the distant wails of Hu Tiansheng's mother, Dongzi wondered: If I were to die, would my father, Li Cilin, ever treat me like that?

It was a strange, unsettling question.

Hu Tiansheng's body remained laid out at home for two full days before finally being laid to rest. The day of his burial broke overcast, lashed by violent gales; aside from his immediate family members, not a single soul turned out for the funeral procession, as the people of Tang Town lived in terror of contracting malignant contagion. Yet the burial failed to restore peace to the settlement; the townsfolk remained jittery and unsettled, their nerves frayed by Tiansheng's bizarre demise. That very morning, a chilling rumor began circulating through the reeking corridors of Urine-Stench Alley: Hu Tiansheng, much like You Chengtuo before him, had perished as punishment for offending the divine spirits. The Earth God and Earth Goddess were allegedly enraged, determined to spare no resident who displayed disrespect. The deities originally tasked with sheltering the local populace were now meting out repeated punishments upon their own children, plunging Tang Town into a state of frantic terror.

Shangguan Qingqiu's blacksmith shop finally unlatched its doors on the very morning of Tiansheng's burial. His two apprentices were nowhere to be seen; the old blacksmith sat alone in a bamboo rocking chair inside the shop, drawing quietly from a water pipe. In his hand he held a brand-new brass water pipe, his expression entirely indifferent. Since both apprentices were his sons-in-law, he had felt completely at ease passing down his craft to them. Originally, he had intended to impart his skills to his biological son, Shangguan Wenqing, only to discover the boy was a dwarf utterly devoid of the physical strength required to swing a hammer. To his dying day, he would never comprehend how he had managed to father such a deformed creature—perhaps it was retribution for sins committed in a past life. The mere thought of Shangguan Wenqing filled him with visceral disgust, prompting him to blot the boy out of his mind entirely and avoid laying eyes on him. Fortunately, Shangguan Wenqing seemed cursed with self-awareness, consistently keeping out of his blackened father's sight. Treating his two sons-in-law as his true heirs, Shangguan Qingqiu took immense pride in them; their craftsmanship was exquisite, and their character remained loyal and honest.

The reopening of the blacksmith shop constituted a major event in Tang Town—second in magnitude only to Hu Tiansheng's death. Word spread like wildfire, saturating every corner of the settlement within moments. The smithy occupied a vital nexus in daily life, supplying all the iron implements utilized across the town; with the shop shuttered for so prolonged a stretch, the locals had been driven half-mad trying to adapt. Catching wind of its resurrection, crowds flocked to the scene—some to verify if the rumor held truth, others desperate to procure long-overdue tools.

Before Shangguan Qingqiu had even finished his first pipe of tobacco, the swelling throngs of curious onlookers began clamoring noisily, shattering his peace.

Someone called out, "Master Shangguan, rumors were flying that you'd kicked the bucket—is that why you kept your doors locked for so long?"

Chuckling dryly, Shangguan Qingqiu retorted, "If I were dead, would I be standing here jawing with you right now? Who had too much time on their hands and started running their loose jaws?"

"Sounds like it was Shen the Sow," another chimed in.

"You actually believe a word that woman says?" Shangguan Qingqiu scoffed. "If she told you to eat shit, would you go scoop some up?"

"Fair enough, her word isn't worth a copper. By the way, Master Shangguan, that water pipe in your hand looks mighty fine—must've cost you a pretty penny!"

Laughing again, Shangguan Qingqiu boasted, "Oh, this pipe? It was a gift from Eunuch Li, brought all the way back from the imperial capital. Look at it—forged from top-grade brass. Not bad, eh?"

"Well, well, that's quite a piece! For Eunuch Li to hand over such luxury, he must hold you in high esteem!"

Preening with pride, Shangguan Qingqiu beamed, "Naturally, naturally! Don't you go looking down on an old, soot-stained blacksmith like me; in Eunuch Li's eyes, I'm worth my weight in gold!"

Another voice cut in: "Master Shangguan, during all those weeks your shop was bolted shut while you hammered away day and night, what on earth were you up to?"

Blinking in feigned astonishment, Shangguan Qingqiu asked, "What are you talking about?"

"Didn't you hear me? I asked what you were manufacturing while you locked yourself away hammering day and night!"

"Is that so? I wasn't even in Tang Town during that stretch. I took my two apprentices out of town; an old friend elsewhere had a massive backlog of orders and needed extra hands, so we went to lend a hand. How could we possibly have been hammering away inside our own shop here?"

"Then a ghost must be haunting you, because the entire town can swear on their lives they heard the ringing of your anvil! It wasn't so bad during the day, but come nightfall, that hammering was loud enough to wake the dead—it drove Hu Xilai clean out of his mind!"

"Absolute nonsense, utter nonsense. Must be a ghost indeed."

Despite Shangguan Qingqiu's stubborn refusal to acknowledge their weeks of closed-door hammering, the townsfolk remained deeply suspicious.

If it wasn't supernatural, then the old blacksmith was undeniably lying to cover up something sinister. What was he concealing? It remained an impenetrable mystery shrouding a dark, unspeakable secret!

Having finished burying his son, Hu Xilai returned to the town street to find the blacksmith shop flung wide open and surrounded by a dense crowd. Slowing his pace as he passed with a visage carved from utter sorrow, someone caught sight of the tragic figure and whispered softly, "Here comes Hu Xilai."

All eyes pivoted instantly toward him.

Shangguan Qingqiu's gaze collided with Hu Xilai's; the blacksmith's eyes darted away in nervous, awkward evasion. Hu Xilai, however, fixed a burning glare upon him, his eyes erupting with a volatile mixture of unspeakable grief and homicidal fury. In that moment, Shangguan Qingqiu appeared to him as a monstrous embodiment of pure evil. Hu Xilai had already slaughtered the man a thousand, ten thousand times over in his mind; repeatedly in recent weeks, he had vowed that the instant he laid eyes on Shangguan Qingqiu, he would exact a brutal reckoning! Confronting him now, the cumulative agony of his torture and the unbearable loss of his child set his blood boiling to a scalding pitch. He began advancing toward the blacksmith with slow, measured strides, his entire body trembling violently with every footfall. The surrounding crowd hastily scrambled out of his path, waiting in heart-hammering suspense, with not a soul stepping forward to restrain him.

Flickering his eyelids nervously, Shangguan Qingqiu muttered to himself, "What's coming cannot be avoided!" Setting aside his gleaming brass water pipe, he strode out to the threshold to intercept Hu Xilai. "Brother Xilai, you look like you're carrying quite a fiery temper today!"

Standing well over six feet tall, Shangguan Qingqiu possessed an imposing frame; though lacking Li Cilin's sheer bulk, he ranked among the most formidable powerhouses in all of Tang Town. In a raw test of brute strength, even Li might have struggled to best him. Even now, in his mid-fifties, he commanded a physical vigor that put younger men—and his own two apprentices—to shame. Hu Xilai remained silent, closing the distance step by step until mere inches separated them. Extending his long arms to block the way, Shangguan Qingqiu barked, "Hold right there, Brother Xilai! Tell me honestly, when have I ever wronged you?"

Halting abruptly, Hu Xilai's face flushed a dark, congested purple. Shuddering violently while grinding his teeth together with a harsh crunch, he remained mute, fixing a gaze of unadulterated poison upon Shangguan Qingqiu as if intending to incinerate him with his eyes alone.

A spectator shouted out, "Blacksmith, your unceasing day-and-night hammering drove Hu Xilai insane! Now his son is dead—if he doesn't come looking for you, who else is he supposed to hold accountable?"

Fixing a steady, piercing stare upon Hu Xilai, Shangguan Qingqiu steeled himself to strike should the grieving father make a sudden move; yet true to his lifelong personal code—never strike unless struck first—he refused to launch the opening blow. Addressing the heckler directly, he defended himself: "Like I said before, I took my apprentices far out of town during those weeks, we weren't even in Tang Town! If we'd been here, we wouldn't have been hammering away through the night—we're human too, don't we need sleep? Besides, we don't even have that volume of work in Tang Town; if business was that booming, I'd be a rich man by now. Brother Xilai, you're a sensible man—does what I'm saying make sense or not? I only just learned about Tiansheng passing away, and my heart aches for you; Tiansheng was a good boy!"

With that, Shangguan Qingqiu raised the rough back of his hand to swipe awkwardly at his damp eyes.

The crowd continued to swell.

At that moment, a shrill, mocking voice pierced the air: "What is all this commotion about—"

Recognizing the arrival of Eunuch Li, the onlookers quickly parted to yield a pathway, greeting him with reverent bows and flattering smiles. Spotting the eunuch approaching, Shangguan Qingqiu offered a respectful, deferential bow. "Eunuch Li, you've graced us with your presence!"

Eunuch Li chuckled. "Just out for a stroll, but hearing the din, I thought I'd see what's happening. What's the trouble?"

"Nothing major," Shangguan Qingqiu replied smoothly. "Brother Xilai here is simply overwhelmed by grief and letting his emotions run away with him."

The smile vanished from Eunuch Li's face, replaced by an expression of profound, saintly compassion. "Xilai, the loss of Tiansheng is indeed a heartbreaking tragedy! But you can't pin the blame on Qingqiu; he had nothing to do with the boy's death, am I right? If Qingqiu were truly responsible, I'd gladly stand up and demand justice for you! The reality, however, is that Tiansheng's passing has zero connection to Qingqiu, so dragging him into this makes no rational sense. As an elder who has lived longer and witnessed more than you folks, let me offer some counsel: neighbors live side-by-side and cross paths daily—harmony is paramount! Wouldn't you all agree?"

Hu Xilai remained silent.

Shangguan Qingqiu chimed in eagerly, "Eunuch Li speaks absolute wisdom! Absolute wisdom!"

Murmurs rippled through the onlookers: "Eunuch Li really is a man of the world; every word out of his mouth makes complete sense."

As the crowd packed tighter, layer upon layer, Eunuch Li naturally gravitated to the focal center, seamlessly displacing Shangguan Qingqiu and Hu Xilai. This marked the very first time Eunuch Li had addressed a public gathering of Tang Town residents since returning to his hometown—his inaugural public discourse delivered outside the confines of elite functions. Thrilled by the captive audience, the excitement blazing in his eyes contrasted sharply with his sorrowful facial mask. Raising his voice, he proclaimed: "Today, taking advantage of this gathering, I wish to raise a matter concerning the Earth God Temple. As you all know, a series of grim calamities has recently unfolded near the temple—Master You's death was tied to it, and Tiansheng fell to his death from the ancient camphor tree. This serves as a grim warning to our entire town! Why are these tragedies befalling us? You all understand it as well as I do: the Earth God and Earth Goddess are displeased with us, and if this continues unchecked, unimaginable disasters await! I have a modest proposal, though I hesitate to voice it."

Someone hollered encouragingly, "Speak your mind, Eunuch Li, we're listening!"

Clearing his throat and sweeping his gaze across the sea of faces, Eunuch Li continued: "Ever since Tiansheng left us, I haven't been able to eat, drink, or sleep—my heart aches for Tang Town! After much soul-searching, I have resolved to personally fund the complete reconstruction of the Earth God Temple and recast golden statues for the Earth God and Earth Goddess, praying for their forgiveness and protection over every household in Tang Town!"

Excited whispers immediately erupted through the gathering.

The central debate on everyone's lips centered on a singular question: rebuilding the temple would require a staggering fortune—who was going to foot the bill?

Sensing their hesitation, Eunuch Li raised a hand. "Please quiet down and let me finish."

The crowd quieted once more.

"Have no fear regarding the finances," Eunuch Li announced smoothly. "Every single copper required for the reconstruction will be covered entirely by yours truly. Contributing to the prosperity of my ancestral homeland is my absolute bounden duty! I ask merely for your support: I provide the funds, you contribute the labor!"

From somewhere within the crowd, a voice bellowed: "Long live Eunuch Li!"

The cry originated from Li Saogu, who promptly nudged two nearby men, prompting them to echo the chant: "Long live Eunuch Li!"

Several others joined in: "Long live Eunuch Li!"

Another shouted: "Eunuch Li is a saint! A living bodhisattva sent to our town! It's a miracle he came home just to bring us a better life!"

A blazing, manic light flashed in Eunuch Li's eyes. Raising a hand to quell the noise once more, he clasped his hands together in a polite bow and raised his voice: "I thank you all deeply for your undeserved kindness, but 'long live' is an improper phrase—if that reaches the wrong ears, it's a capital offense! I am merely offering a meager contribution, not worth mentioning. Furthermore, I have a personal favor to ask: I earnestly request that you all cease addressing me as 'Eunuch Li.' We are neither in the imperial capital nor inside palace walls; the title no longer fits, and it sits uncomfortably upon my ears. Henceforth, I ask you to call me Shunde—the name bestowed upon me by my grandfather, simple and pleasant to the tongue. Please, call me Shunde from now on. I offer my heartfelt thanks to all my dear townspeople!"

Li Saogu promptly initiated a new chant: "Long live Lord Shunde!"

Eunuch Li's generous sponsorship of the temple reconstruction successfully diverted public attention away from the suspicious hammering inside the shuttered smithy, while also defusing Hu Xilai's murderous grudge against Shangguan Qingqiu. Dead was dead, and life had to trudge onward, regardless of whether the seasons turned warm or freezing. Moreover, with the nighttime hammering permanently silenced, Hu Xilai finally found a measure of peace. Groundbreaking for the reconstruction of the Earth God Temple was scheduled for an auspicious date in October of the twenty-ninth year of Guangxu—marking a monumental holiday for Tang Town.

At the crack of dawn on the day of the groundbreaking, the villagers flocked to the temple bearing sacrificial offerings of three beasts, burning incense and candles in pious devotion. Li Hongtang brought Dongzi along to pay their respects; kneeling before the clay effigies of the Earth deities, she prayed fervently for the swift discovery of her missing mother. Her devotions concluded, she set off once more into the wilderness to continue her endless search.

Following her departure, Dongzi was struck by a sharp, cramping pain in his abdomen and hurried off toward Urine-Stench Alley to relieve himself.

No sooner had he squatted over an outhouse pit than he caught the sound of voices drifting from the adjacent stall.

"Do you know the real reason Eunuch Li is pumping all that money into rebuilding the Earth God Temple?"

Dongzi recognized the abrasive rasp instantly: it was Shen the Sow.

"No idea. Why don't you enlighten me?"

"I'll tell you, but you swear you won't repeat it!"

"Relax, my lips are sealed. Go on."

"It's all for his own salvation! Word has it Eunuch Li is entirely childless because of wicked sins committed in his past life, which is why he ended up a eunuch. Nobody knows where a creature like that got his ungodly piles of silver—he can't take it with him when he dies, so he's dumping it into the temple to buy spiritual merit. He's trying to bribe the Earth God into ensuring he doesn't come back as a eunuch in his next incarnation!"

"Who told you that cock-and-bull story?"

"Never mind who told me, you can bet it's nine parts true."

"You'd better watch your mouth and stop flapping your jaws. If the wrong ears hear you, you'll be begging for trouble. Eunuch Li is doing a good deed for the town, and here you are slandering him behind his back!"

"How can you say that? When did I ever slander him? I'm just stating facts!"

"Facts my ass! How much of what you spout is ever true? Didn't you swear up and down that Shangguan Qingqiu was dead and his shop was haunted by ghosts hammering iron? Well, Shangguan Qingqiu is back, his shop is wide open—what do you have to say to that?"

"Well—"

"So learn to guard your tongue. Running your mouth with malicious gossip brings divine retribution!"

Finishing her business, Shen the Sow stomped out of the outhouse, slamming the wooden door shut with a resounding crash. As the clatter of her wooden clogs faded away, Dongzi felt an ominous premonition that disaster was closing in on her. Dongzi's stomach had been acting up for two days, though he couldn't trace the root cause. Suddenly, he remembered the maltose candy Eunuch Li had pressed upon him—he had hidden it away in a secret nook to evade his sister's notice. Yesterday morning, struck by a sudden, intense craving, he had dug out the small paper parcel. By then, the paper and candy had fused into an inseparable, sticky mess. After meticulously peeling away whatever paper scrap he could manage—salivating profusely the entire time—he had finally popped the ruined mass of candy and paper straight into his mouth. Ever since consuming that candy, Dongzi had felt fundamentally altered; a strange, inexplicable warmth toward Eunuch Li had sprouted in his chest, softening his initial hostility—though a subconscious thread of dread and suspicion still lingered. By afternoon, however, a searing cramp had twisted through his gut, driving him repeatedly to the latrine. Squatting helplessly over the pit, no amount of straining could produce a single drop.

Misery washed over him.

After crouching in agony until his face turned purple without success, Dongzi finally gave up. Wiping himself with dry straw, he hauled up his trousers. Before he could even retie his waistband, a chaotic commotion erupted from the main street.

What fresh disaster had struck now?

Overwhelmed by burning curiosity, Dongzi scrambled out of the reeking alley at top speed.

Sure enough, catastrophe had engulfed Shen the Sow. With her hair disheveled and wild, bound tightly in hemp ropes with her arms pinned, sporting a wooden clog on one foot while the other was bare, she shrieked hysterically as several male members of the Yu clan dragged her down the long street toward the eastern edge of town. A massive crowd of spectators trailed in their wake; Dongzi joined the procession, his heart hammering anxiously. darting through the moving sea of people, Abao spotted Dongzi's slender frame and shouted, "Dongzi—!" Turning around, Dongzi caught Abao as he dashed over, grabbing his hand. "Your hands are freezing cold, Dongzi!" Abao gasped. Ignoring the remark, Dongzi gripped his hand tighter and hurried along behind the mob toward the eastern edge.

An expansive dirt clearing fronting the Earth God Temple had filled with a dense crowd. Standing upon the stone steps before the temple doors stood several stern-faced elders—the patriarchs of Tang Town's dominant clans, who invariably convened to arbitrate major communal crises. Spotting the captive being dragged forward, the patriarch of the Yu clan stepped half a step ahead and barked with austere authority: "Bring Shen the Sow forward!"

Struggling violently, Shen the Sow shrieked, "What crime have I committed?! Why are you tying me up? What law have I broken—?!"

Throwing herself onto the ground, she began throwing a hysterical tantrum. The onlookers pointed and jeered, though a sudden pang of pity pierced Dongzi's chest.

Roughly hauling her to her feet, her captors dragged her up the steps, causing her remaining wooden clog to slip off. Standing upon the elevated stone landing, she glared daggers at the Yu patriarch. "Old patriarch, spell it out for me—what grave sin am I accused of? If you're going to condemn me to death, at least let me die with my eyes open!"

The Yu patriarch thundered in a deep, menacing register: "Silence, you witless harridan who brings shame upon our lineage!"

Quivering with rage, Shen the Sow bellowed back, "I'm asking you, what have I done wrong?! To treat me like this is an outrage, I am being framed!"

"You stand at death's door and remain utterly oblivious to your own villainy—how despicable!" the Yu patriarch rebuked. "As a daughter-in-law of the Yu clan, instead of supporting your husband and rearing your children, you spend your days exploiting that filthy trap of yours to spread venomous rumors and sow chaos! Today, with all the clan patriarchs assembled and representatives of every family present, I am going to teach you a lesson—and provide a warning to everyone else: words carry consequences! Shen the Sow, tell us: what vile slander did you spew inside the outhouse in Urine-Stench Alley?"

"I said nothing! I am completely innocent—!"

Dongzi felt a twitch of confusion: How did Shen the Sow's private words reach the patriarch's ears in the span of a few minutes? Catching a woman nearby whispering, "I certainly didn't pass the word along," Dongzi tracked the voice and realized it was the very woman who had shared the latrine stall with Shen the Sow.

The Yu patriarch's voice turned razor-sharp: "Still refusing to repent and clinging to your lies! Someone give her a lesson—beat that foul mouth of hers to pulp!"

Stepping forward with a filthy, decaying cloth shoe in hand, a burly man proceeded to lash Shen the Sow across the mouth without a word of warning. Piercing, agonizing shrieks tore from her throat; the louder she wailed, the more savagely the man struck.

Raising his voice so the entire gathering could hear, the Yu patriarch proclaimed: "As everyone knows, our revered Lord Shunde possesses a heart of gold and profound civic virtue. Since returning to his ancestral home, he has performed countless charitable deeds, and now, to secure the divine protection of the Earth deities for our entire town, he is personally financing the complete reconstruction of the temple—a boundless, infinite merit! Yet our Yu clan spawned this malicious harridan, who out of pure spite dared to slander our esteemed Lord Shunde as a self-serving schemer! Such a black-hearted, rotten wretch deserves far more than a beating—sewing her into a wicker pig-basket and drowning her in Maiden's Pool would be too light a punishment!"

Someone whispered timidly, "Who is Lord Shunde?"

"That's Eunuch Li! Remember, we're not supposed to call him Eunuch Li anymore, it's Lord Shunde."

"Oh—"

Through the glare of the sunlight, Dongzi caught sight of countless microscopic crimson threads dancing through the air—jets of blood erupting from Shen the Sow's lacerated, pulped mouth. The heavy, metallic stench of fresh gore filled his nostrils. In all his twelve years of life, Dongzi had never encountered such a concentrated onslaught of bloodshed; an involuntary flash of the nightmare from the Mid-Autumn Festival—where rivers ran choked with gore—surged through his mind, making his entire body shudder violently.

Her face a mask of streaming blood beyond human recognition, Shen the Sow resembled a crushed, rotting tomato.

Yu Gouzi rushed onto the scene accompanied by their two young children. Catching sight of their mutilated mother, the boys dissolved into heart-rending, terrified howls that twisted a knife straight through Dongzi's heart. Clasping Abao's hand even tighter, Dongzi noticed Abao keeping his head bowed in terror, staring fixedly at his own toes, too frightened to gaze upon the horrific, bloodied visage of Shen the Sow, while the midday sun beat down with blinding, merciless intensity.

The burly man continued raining blows across Shen the Sow's mouth, staining his tattered shoe a vivid, dripping crimson.

Dragging his children forward, Yu Gouzi shoved them down before the Yu patriarch and pleaded, "Kneel, boys! Beg the elder for mercy, beg him to stop!"

Kneeling into the dust, the children wept hysterically.

Flinging himself onto the ground beside them, Yu Gouzi kowtowed wildly. "Elder Yu! For the sake of these innocent children, I beg you to spare the Sow! She'll never dare run her mouth again, I swear it!"

Mimicking their father, the two boys kowtowed and wailed, "Grandpa Elder, please spare our mother! If Mum dies, what's going to become of us?!"

The Yu patriarch heaved a long, heavy sigh.

Yet he remained silent.

At that moment, a voice rang out: "Lord Shunde has arrived!"

Turning his head, Dongzi spotted Eunuch Li striding briskly forward, leaning on his dragon-headed cane with a dark, brooding expression etched across his face, flanked closely by Li Cilin and Li Saogu. Today, Eunuch Li had discarded his pristine white robes in favor of a radiant imperial yellow tunic, lending him an even more formidable, majestic aura. Flanking him, both Li Cilin and Li Saogu wore somber black attire, with broadswords strapped securely to their waists. Witnessing his father marching directly in the retinue behind Eunuch Li for the very first time, Dongzi felt his heart skip a beat, burdened by an ominous premonition of monumental upheavals awaiting them in the days to come.

Ascending the stone steps, Eunuch Li barked an authoritative command: "Cease at once!"

The burly man halted his blows. Shen the Sow's blood-soaked eyes stared blankly, swimming with countless overlapping phantoms of Eunuch Li; a wet gurgle rattled in her throat before she expelled a mouthful of dark blood, mumbling an incoherent string of unintelligible syllables.

Raising Yu Gouzi and his sons to their feet one by one, Eunuch Li bowed respectfully toward the Yu patriarch, his voice trembling with emotion: "Elder Yu, my greetings to you! I implore you to show mercy and spare this wretched woman. My personal reputation matters little—a human life hangs in the balance! Please, Elder, stay your hand and grant her pardon!"

Clearing his throat, the Yu patriarch projected a booming voice across the plaza: "You have all witnessed and heard it for yourselves—Lord Shunde's boundless benevolence and bodhisattva heart! For his sake," he continued, turning his gaze toward the trembling Yu Gouzi, "I grant her life. Take her back home, and ensure you discipline your wife properly. Should she ever transgress again, no one will step forward to shield her!"

That very evening, night fell without bringing Li Hongtang home.

Gripped by mounting anxiety and terror, Dongzi tortured himself with horrific scenarios: What if something went wrong? What if she vanished just like their mother? He prayed desperately for his father to return tonight; perhaps knowing his daughter remained missing, his father would organize a search party. As the hours crawled past midnight, neither his father nor his sister materialized. Driven to the absolute precipice of panic and unable to contain his distress a moment longer, Dongzi sprinted over to Abao's house and hammered his small fists frantically against the wooden cedar door.

Unlatching the door to reveal Dongzi framed in the hazy moonlight, Zhang Faqiang asked through drowsy yawns, "Dongzi, why aren't you fast asleep? What on earth brings you pounding on doors in the middle of the night?"

Choking back tears, Dongzi blurted out, "Big Sister still hasn't come home! She always gets back by dusk, but tonight she's nowhere to be found, I'm terrified something happened to her. Big Sister—!"

Breaking down completely, he wept openly.

Reaching out to stroke his hair, Zhang Faqiang soothed, "Don't cry, Dongzi! Where's your father?"

Sobbing hysterically, Dongzi cried, "Dad hasn't come home either, he never comes home, nobody knows where he goes. He doesn't care about Big Sister, he wouldn't even care if she died! It's like he's abandoned us, abandoned this whole family, waaaa—"

"Hush now, Dongzi, don't cry," Zhang Faqiang reassured him. "We'll figure something out. Your sister is a good girl, we won't just abandon her! Wait right here, I'll be out in a second!"

Zhang Faqiang's words offered a fragile anchor of comfort, steadying Dongzi's racing pulse slightly. Moments later, he heard instructions murmured inside: "Abao, be a good boy, stay in bed and don't come out." Armed with a burning pine torch, Zhang Faqiang stepped out into the night. Though Abao's mother restrained him inside, the boy desperately yearned to join his father in the search for Li Hongtang. Latching the door behind him, Zhang Faqiang turned to Dongzi: "Do you know where Hongtang headed?"

"She's been searching for Mum up in the West Mountains," Dongzi stammered.

"Understood, Dongzi. Go on back home and get some sleep, we'll track your sister down."

"I want to come with you!" Dongzi pleaded.

"Listen to me, Dongzi. Mountain trails are treacherous at night; if you tag along, we'll have to look after you, which will only slow down the search for your sister. Do you want us to find her as quickly as possible, or do you want to be dead weight and delay us? Run back home and wait safely for your sister's return."

Left with no alternative, Dongzi dragged himself back home.

Bolting the front door behind him, instead of climbing up to the loft, he pressed his face directly against a gap in the wooden panels to peer out into the lane.

Gathering a dozen able-bodied men from around the neighborhood, Zhang Faqiang led the torch-bearing procession toward the western end of the town. Waiting until they had rounded the corner, Dongzi slipped out the door and trailed quietly in their wake. Moving at a swift clip, the search party swiftly crossed the small wooden footbridge over Tang Creek and plunged directly into the western wilderness.

Through the hazy moonlight, a biting frost was settling across the landscape.

The wind howled across the open fields with malicious ferocity, sounding chillingly like a chorus of vengeful ghosts wailing in the dark.

The bone-chilling cold made Dongzi shiver uncontrollably.

Creeping cautiously across the swaying wooden footbridge, he realized with a jolt that he had fallen far behind Zhang Faqiang's party, though he could still hear their voices echoing faintly on the wind: "Hongtang, where are you—?"

"Hongtang, where are you—?"

Their calls grew steadily fainter, widening the chasm between them. Dongzi broke into a frantic sprint, but how could a child's short legs match the powerful strides of grown men? Within minutes, their shouts faded completely from earshot, and the bobbing glow of their torches vanished into the distance. He knew they had entered the dense mountain forests. The wilderness plunged into an absolute, deathly hush, the howling wind dying down just enough for him to hear the microscopic, chilling sound of frost crystals precipitating from the sky.

A thin crust of white frost sheathed the withered grass lining the narrow path.

Dongzi ran and ran, yet no matter how desperately he pushed himself, he couldn't close the gap. Still he forced his legs forward, his heart pounding so violently it felt ready to burst through his ribs.

Suddenly, his foot caught on an unseen obstacle, sending him pitching forward onto the path. His face impacted the muddy earth, scraping his lips and setting off a burning, stinging pain. Struggling back to his feet, he registered an agonizing throb in his knees; reaching down, he felt his trousers torn at the joint, his fingers brushing against a sticky, viscous fluid—blood! At that exact moment, a thick bank of dark clouds swallowed the moon, plunging the entire world into an abyss of pitch-black darkness where he couldn't see his own hand before his face. A heavy ringing filled Dongzi's ears, and a despairing wriek echoed in his mind: It's over!

Unable to discern the path ahead or catch up with the search party, Dongzi stood paralyzed in the crushing dark, trapped between advance and retreat. The ruthless pressure of darkness and cold assaulted his shivering frame, threatening to freeze his vocal cords and limbs solid within minutes. In the absolute blackness, countless wandering malevolent spirits seemed to materialize, stretching out withered, claw-like hands toward him... Dongzi felt the suffocating sensation of drowning, air failing to reach his lungs.

Driven past the brink by overwhelming terror, he screamed at the top of his lungs: "Big Sister, Big Sister, save me—!"

Not a soul answered his cries.

His frantic shrieks failed to puncture the suffocating shroud of darkness or banish the spectral phantoms pressing in from every direction. It was a night in October of the twenty-ninth year of Guangxu—the desperate, blood-curdling shriek of a child lost in a remote mountain town: "Big Sister, Big Sister, save me—!"

He had no inkling where his sister was at that moment, nor whether she too was trapped in the same suffocating vortex of dark terror.

Dongzi bitterly regretted ignoring Zhang Faqiang's orders to stay put, but remorse came too late.

Out of the depths of his despair, a bleak, desolate voice drifted through the dark: "Please follow me, please follow me—"

The voice was entirely unfamiliar.

Unable to place the origin of the call, Dongzi listened as the eerie voice echoed closer and closer, burrowing a trail of terror straight into the marrow of his bones. Trapped in the dark with nowhere to run, his legs felt like they had been filled with lead, refusing to lift an inch.

Terror paralyzed him to the point where he could neither weep nor shout.

Squatting down in the gloom, Dongzi clung to a desperate sliver of hope: If I stay right here without moving, when Zhang Faqiang and the others find my sister and retrace their steps, they'll surely spot me and bring me safely home...

"Please follow me, please follow me—"

The desolate voice crept steadily nearer.

It felt as though someone was standing directly before him, close enough for him to reach out and grab their garments, close enough to hear their labored respiration.

"Who are you—?"

Stumbling to his feet, Dongzi shrieked in panic.

Silence answered him.

A breath of freezing air brushed softly against his ear, followed by a whispered sigh: "Please follow me, please follow me—"

"No, no, I won't go with you—" Dongzi cried out.

Yet his limbs moved independently of his will, blindly stumbling forward step by awkward step into the blackness as if guided by an invisible, hypnotic command.

After stumbling forward for an indeterminate stretch, his feet finally came to an involuntary halt.

The haunting sense of an unseen presence lingering directly beside him, dictating his movements, remained absolute.

Trembling violently, Dongzi demanded, "Who the hell are you? What is this place?"

Still, no voice replied.

He heard only a heavy, rattling respiration—resembling the final, dying gasps of a man exhaling his last breath. Dongzi was trapped in an inescapable nightmare. With his father, mother, and sister unreachable across vast, impossible distances, he had no choice left but to surrender utterly to the bidding of the unseen breather, resigning his fate to whatever sentence—life or death—awaited him.

Abruptly, a shaft of illumination broke through.

It was moonlight piercing a rift in the cloud cover, casting a hazy, ghostly glow that allowed him to make out his immediate surroundings. Glancing around, he found the clearing entirely empty; the heavy breathing had vanished. Where was he? He stood within an overgrown, weed-choked lowland basin; not far off flowed the murmuring currents of Tang Creek, positioned uncomfortably close to Maiden's Pool, whose churning waters echoed faintly in the distance.

The Wild Grass Shoal? The desolate flat where locals rarely dared tread? The legendary gathering ground for the vengeful ghosts of those who drowned in Maiden's Pool?

The hazy moonlight amplified Dongzi's terror tenfold.

How did I end up in a place like this?

His gaze locked onto a shallow pit directly before him. Though covered over with a layer of withered, yellowed turf, distinct signs of excavation marred the earth, exposing patches of fresh, damp clay. A nauseating, gag-inducing stench wafted from the spot. Fixing his eyes upon the exposed clay, Dongzi spotted a ragged corner of a reed mat protruding from the soil. Obeying some mysterious, compulsive mandate, he approached, squatted down, and ignoring the suffocating stench, reached out to tug at the mat.

Having rotted over time, the fabric was paper-thin and brittle; a strip of the mat tore away effortlessly beneath his fingers.

Peering into the cavity beneath the mat, Dongzi unleashed a piercing shriek of absolute horror, spat a mouthful of white foam, and collapsed unconscious into the dirt.

What Dongzi had laid eyes upon was a rotting, blackened human foot.

A sensation of warmth coaxed Dongzi back to consciousness, drawing a long, shuddering sigh from his lungs as he fluttered his eyes open. He found himself staring into a familiar, stubbled face—his father, Li Cilin's face, illuminated by the flickering, bean-sized flame of an oil lamp. Cradled securely within his father's embrace, a long-denied wave of overwhelming safety bloomed outward from his chest. How long had it been since his father had held him like this? Dongzi couldn't recall. Staring down with bloodshot, crimson eyes, Li Cilin murmured softly, "You're awake, son." Catching an unaccustomed glimmer of paternal warmth and tenderness shining within his father's bloodshot gaze, tears broke over Dongzi's eyelids. In the past, Father was always like this—why did he suddenly morph into a cold, ruthless monster in recent weeks? What Dongzi craved was a father brimming with paternal love and warmth, not a frigid executioner. Overcome with emotion, he breathed out: "Dad—"

Li Cilin scolded gently, "Silly boy, what are you crying for? I'm not dead yet—save the tears for when I actually kick the bucket."

"Dad, you're never going to die!" Dongzi choked out.

"Everyone dies, son. There's no one who lives forever."

Pressing his head against his father's broad chest, Dongzi listened to the steady, drum-like thud of his heartbeat.

"Listen to me, son," Li Cilin instructed softly. "Never wander down to the Wild Grass Shoal by yourself again. It's an unclean place. If someone hadn't happened to pass by and spot you tonight, you'd be a dead boy!"

A sudden, violent flash of memory threw Dongzi back into a panic: he recalled the rotting, blackened human foot protruding from the pit, alongside the reed-mat-wrapped bundle hauled out of Tang Town by masked men on the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival. Terror flooded his eyes. Detecting the sudden shift in his son's demeanor, Li Cilin pulled him tighter into his arms and soothed, "Don't be scared, son. What you saw down at the Wild Grass Shoal was just a dead pig's foot. Didn't you know? Whenever someone's pig dies of plague in town, they haul the carcass down to the Wild Grass Shoal to bury it. Never go near that cursed spot again, understand?"

I clearly saw a rotting human foot, how could it possibly be a pig's foot? Dongzi wondered with profound confusion.

Then, a sudden panic seized him. He blurted out: "Big Sister—!"

Li Cilin's entire frame gave a sharp, violent shudder.

wrenching himself free from his father's embrace, Dongzi shrieked, "Dad, where's Big Sister? Big Sister still hasn't come home—!"

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