Yet the result disappointed Qin He.
Through the Shadow Play Performance, Qin He saw that Fanged Ghost Head handkerchief again, but it still appeared only in the final instant before the deceased's death.
It happened with extreme suddenness, just like Horse Butcher's death.
In other words, the handkerchief had no intersection with the deceased's life. Its purpose in appearing was simply to peel off faces.
If there was any difference, it was that the Fanged Ghost Head on the handkerchief had become increasingly lifelike.
Under the night curtain, the Capital City was fraught with murderous danger, as indescribable Demonic Creatures and Ghosts chose their victims and devoured them.
If sewers were a city's conscience, then in this age without sewers, the Corpse Burning Room was a city's conscience.
Clearly, the Flying Fish Guard had noticed that the face-peeling Supernatural Incident was escalating by the day, but they lacked the strength to resolve it.
That was probably the most universal trait of chaotic times: seeing the problem, yet being powerless to do anything about it.
With no clues at all, Qin He could not be bothered with it any longer and continued handling corpses and burning them.
After that, he burned another two corpses.
That counted as a day's work. The corpses stored in the Corpse Burning Hall had been reduced by more than half, and corpse burners like Qin He were no longer needed.
After eating their final meal of buns, that same Chang Wen, Hundred-Household Officer Chang, came to collect them and escorted them out of the Imperial Prison.
The Corpse Burning Hall said nothing about rewards, and the corpse burners did not dare ask.
They each stuffed several dozen meat buns into their pockets, which counted as receiving their reward.
Qin He did not care much. Other than giving him a Corpse Suppressing Talisman or some silver, he could not think of what else the Corpse Burning Hall could offer.
A man had to have backbone.
If you did not open your mouth, I absolutely would not take it.
That was just how tsundere he was.
Chang Wen escorted them out of the Imperial Prison, then left them with a final sentence. "If there are rewards, they will be delivered in the next couple of days. Go home."
With that, he turned and went back inside.
Well, at least he had given them something to hope for.
Compared with those people from the Corpse Burning Hall, he could barely be considered a "good person." At least he had not treated the corpse burners like toilet paper for wiping his ass.
Naturally, none of the corpse burners took it seriously. After bidding one another farewell, they dispersed.
No one knew whether they would live to see tomorrow, so no one was tactless enough to arrange some future day to gather again.
Outside, the sun still shone brightly. Judging by the sky, it was already noon.
Autumn was growing deeper. A gust of wind swept past, raising goosebumps all over his body.
Qin He remembered the two outfits he had ordered, so he first went to the tailor shop. After collecting them, he headed to the bathhouse.
Only after giving himself a thorough scrub and getting himself clean from head to toe did he stroll around the city.
He had also caught up on more than two hours of sleep earlier, and his spirits had more or less recovered.
Throughout the streets and alleys, the topic of the Donglin gentlemen denouncing the Five Tigers of the Eunuch Party was in full swing. In some out-of-the-way corners, one could even see small posters. They were all meant to stir up public sentiment, and the instant they were put up, the common people swarmed over them and snatched them away.
Paper was a good thing in this era. Paste it over a window, and it could keep out the wind.
Qin He ran over and grabbed one. At the top were four large characters: Anti-Eunuch Proclamation.
Its contents read: Since the rise of Song, eunuchs have brought calamity upon the nation. The chronic illness has long festered into our dynasty. Now the Di Barbarians run rampant, refugees, bandits, and thieves cover the land, and court and countryside alike are thrown into turmoil. All of it is because powerful eunuchs have sown chaos, turning everything into a foul miasma. Eunuchs are maimed at the root, maimed in body, maimed in will. They spy upon the sovereign's side, covet power, and act with arrogant tyranny. They should be regarded as our dynasty's foremost scourge...
It sprawled across nearly a thousand characters, thoroughly flaying the eunuchs until they were black and blue all over.
The Spring-and-Autumn brushwork in it, the framing and blame-shifting, left Qin He dumbfounded.
But the common folk did not understand such things. As far as its purpose was concerned, it had already achieved enough.
Then he looked at the signature: Restoration Society.
Qin He was instantly disgusted sick.
As for the Donglin Faction, empty talk was empty talk, but those so-called upright officials still retained at least a little shame.
That bunch from the Restoration Society had completely cast shame aside.
How should one put it? Donglin itself was divided into conservatives and radicals.
The Restoration Society was created by a group of Donglin radicals. Whenever they had nothing to do, they gathered to point out the rivers and mountains, a pack of loudmouths and keyboard warriors. Their meeting place was Xiangshan Courtyard.
What kind of place was Xiangshan Courtyard?
A famous money-devouring den in the Capital City: a brothel.
A bunch of scholars who did nothing all day, yet ran to brothels every day to hold lofty discussions. Their bootlickers praised every last one of them into living Dukes of Zhou. They gnashed their teeth in hatred that they had not risen to power themselves, then vented all their pent-up resentment between women's thighs.
Ah, that was the Restoration Society.
Qin He crumpled up the paper and quickly tossed it away, afraid of catching some venereal disease from it. No matter how he looked at those characters, they carried the scent of rouge and powder.
But seeing the Donglin Faction and the Restoration Society acting so wildly, even pasting their small posters right onto the forehead of Prince Wei, Nine Thousand Years Old, it seemed the Donglin Faction of this era was far stronger than in the time and space Qin He had come from. At the very least, they had not been pinned beneath the Eunuch Faction and ground against the floor. Given the chance, they still dared to bite the Eunuch Faction.
Thinking of that Grand Canal, wide as a river, he could understand. The Donglin Faction represented wealthy merchants and great landlords at court. A broad canal would only make them richer than the four seas and even more powerful.
It was only natural that Donglin's influence would be greater.
After wandering aimlessly for a while, Qin He left the Capital City and went to the blacksmith's shop.
Tie Sanqi had already forged the shovel. It was entirely made of steel, six feet long, pitch-black, and did not reflect light even when the sun shone on it. The shovel blade was extremely thick, its edge sharpened. Qin He weighed it in his hand and found both its weight and distribution exquisitely balanced.
Though it was merely a simple shovel, it fully displayed the foundation of an old blacksmith's craft.
The forging fee was not cheap: half a tael of silver. According to Tie Sanqi, this steel did not absorb heat well. It had to be burned for half an hour before it could be worked, consuming quite a lot of charcoal.
Qin He readily paid the silver and carried the iron shovel back, feeling his confidence rise by several degrees.
This thing had been stained with far too many lives. Even after being remelted and reforged, its killing aura was still hard to dispel.
As he walked, a bang suddenly rang out, followed by a voice chanting:
"Scouring the remnant Hu, the imperial capital stood firm; dragons soared and phoenixes danced in towering splendor. To the left, the azure sea encircled a strip of heaven; to the right, the Taihang Mountains embraced ten thousand folds. Spears and halberds at the Nine Borders guarded the mighty passes; crowned states of ten thousand lands looked up in reverence at the hanging robes. In peace, the people rejoiced in a Huaxu world; forever and ever, the golden realm shared the sun's radiance."
Qin He stopped and looked toward the sound. At the street corner stood a dark canopy enclosed on three sides, yellow cloth hanging within and lamps lit behind it. An old man in his seventies manipulated shadow puppets, making the suspended figures perform.
It was unmistakably a Shadow Play stall.
Qin He grew interested. He had never encountered folk Shadow Play before. Entertainment had flourished in later generations, and Shadow Play had long since declined. He knew this world had it, but he had not expected to see this craft with his own eyes today.
Shadow Play was a typical street art. The puppets were thin and light, the props simple, commonly called "one shoulder carries all." Whether it was wonderful or not depended entirely on two hands, two feet, and a single mouth.
The old man was clearly an expert of the trade. Using three feet of raw silk as his stage, he created humor with nothing but his ten fingers.
One mouth told a thousand ages of tales; two hands danced a million soldiers into war.
He was performing a folk play widely passed down among the people, "Yue Wu Attacks the Yellow Dragon." Storytellers, opera singers, and music listeners all loved it, because every household knew it and the common people loved hearing it.
Behind the screen, he recounted the affairs of a thousand ages; beneath the lamp, he danced to drums and music, playing tunes of parting and reunion, joy and sorrow, performing the evil and treachery of every dynasty.
In the old man's hands, the thin shadow puppets were given souls, seeming both illusion and reality.
Qin He watched, utterly engrossed. By the time the shadow play ended, the sun had already slanted westward.
A youth beside the old man carried a tray to solicit rewards. But the times were hard. Though there were many spectators, their pockets were empty, and only three to five copper coins landed in the tray.
Neither the old man nor the youth was annoyed. They cupped their hands to send off the audience, saying that it was late and they should come back tomorrow.
Just as Qin He turned away, a silver ingot fell into the tray with a clang.
The old man froze, while the youth was delighted.
When they turned back to look, the canopy was empty. They had no idea who had tipped them the silver.
Before you continue