Corpse Burning Hall Settles Its Affairs

Yet the result disappointed Qin He.

During the Shadow Play Performance, Qin He saw that handkerchief bearing the Fanged Ghost Head again, but it still appeared only in the final instant before the deceased's death.

It had happened with extreme suddenness, exactly like Horse Butcher's death.

In other words, the handkerchief had no connection whatsoever to the deceased's life. Its sole purpose in appearing was to peel faces.

If there was any difference, it was that the Fanged Ghost Head on the handkerchief was becoming increasingly lifelike.

Under the night curtain, the Capital City was riddled with murderous peril. Unnameable Demonic Creatures and Ghosts chose their prey and devoured them.

If sewers were a city's conscience, then in this era 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 growing ever more serious, but they were powerless to resolve it.

That was probably the one trait most common to all troubled times: seeing the problem, yet being unable to do anything about it.

With no clues at all, Qin He could not be bothered with it anymore and went back to dealing with corpses and burning them.

Afterward, he burned another two corpses.

That counted as a day's work. The Corpse Burning Hall's stored corpses had dwindled by more than half, and Corpse Burners like Qin He were no longer needed.

After eating their last meal of buns, that same Hundred-Household Officer Chang Wen came to fetch 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.

Each of them stuffed several dozen meat buns into their pockets, which counted as collecting their reward.

Qin He did not care much. Other than a Corpse Suppressing Talisman or a bit of silver, he could not think of what else the Corpse Burning Hall could offer.

A man had to have backbone.

If you did not offer it, I definitely would not ask for it.

That was just how proud and prickly 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 within the next couple of days. Go home."

With that, he turned and went back inside.

Well, at least they had been given something to look forward to.

Compared with the people from the Corpse Burning Hall, he barely counted as a "good person." At least he had not treated the Corpse Burners like toilet paper used to wipe 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 tactlessly suggested picking a day to gather again.

Outside, the sun still blazed brightly. Judging by the sky, it was already noon.

Autumn was growing deeper. A gust of wind swept past, raising goosebumps all over Qin He's skin.

Qin He remembered the two outfits he had ordered, so he first went to the tailor's 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 made up for more than four hours of sleep earlier, and his energy had mostly recovered.

On street corners and in alleyways, the Donglin Faction gentlemen's campaign against the Five Tigers of the Eunuch Party was the hottest topic around. In some out-of-the-way places, little handbills could even be seen. They were all meant to stir up public opinion, and the moment they went up, the townsfolk swarmed over them and snatched them away.

Paper was a good thing in this era. Paste it over a window, and it kept 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 Yu and Song dynasties, eunuchs have brought calamity upon the state. By our dynasty, this ancient disease has long festered beyond cure. Now the Di Barbarians run rampant, refugees and bandits cover the land, and court and country are in turmoil—all because power-hungry eunuchs wreak havoc and fill the realm with foul smoke and miasma. Eunuchs are crippled at the root, crippled in body, crippled in will. They lurk at the sovereign's side, greedily clutching power and acting with tyrannical arrogance. They are the foremost scourge of our dynasty...

It ran on for nearly a thousand characters, tearing the eunuchs apart until they were utterly unrecognizable.

The spring-and-autumn brushwork, the framing, the blame-shifting—it left Qin He dumbfounded.

But common folk did not understand such things. As far as its purpose was concerned, it had already done enough.

Then he looked at the signature: Restoration Society.

Qin He was instantly disgusted sick.

The Donglin Faction might have been all talk, but those upright officials still had some sense of shame.

The Restoration Society, though, had completely thrown shame out the window.

How should he put it? Donglin itself was divided into conservatives and radicals.

The Restoration Society was founded by a group of Donglin radicals. With nothing better to do, they held gatherings to pass judgment on the realm—a crowd of loudmouths and keyboard warriors. Their meeting place was Xiangshan Courtyard.

What kind of place was Xiangshan Courtyard?

It was a famous money-devouring den in the Capital City: a brothel.

A bunch of scholars did nothing all day but run to brothels to hold lofty discussions. They praised one another's stinking feet until every last one of them became a living Duke of Zhou, grinding their teeth in hatred that they had not risen to power themselves. Then they 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 it might give him venereal disease. No matter how he looked at those words, they carried the scent of rouge and powder.

Still, seeing how rampant the Donglin Faction and the Restoration Society were—even pasting handbills right onto Prince Wei Nine Thousand Years Old's forehead—it seemed the Donglin Faction of this era was far stronger than in the time-space Qin He had come from. At the very least, they had not been pressed beneath the Eunuch Faction and rubbed raw. Given the chance, they still dared to bite the Eunuch Faction.

When he thought of that Grand Canal, broad as a river itself, it became understandable. The Donglin Faction represented wealthy merchants and great landowners in 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 finished forging the shovel. It was made entirely of steel, six feet long, black as pitch, with no gleam even under the sun. Its blade was exceptionally thick, its edge sharpened. When Qin He hefted it, its weight and balance were exquisitely distributed.

Though it was only a simple shovel, it fully displayed an old blacksmith's craftsmanship.

The forging fee was not cheap—half a tael of silver. According to Tie Sanqi, the steel did not absorb heat well. It had to be heated for half an hour before it could be worked, consuming quite a lot of charcoal.

Qin He paid readily, shouldered the iron shovel, and headed back, feeling several degrees more secure.

This thing had been stained by too many lives. Even after being reforged in the furnace, its killing aura had not faded.

As he walked, there came a sudden clack, followed by someone chanting:

"Scouring the remnant Hu, he founded the imperial capital; dragons soared and phoenixes danced in towering grandeur. To the left, the boundless sea curled round the heavens; to the right, the Taihang Mountains embraced in ten thousand folds. Spears and halberds at the Nine Borders held the mighty passes; crowned nations of the world bowed to robes that hung in stillness. In peace, the people rejoiced in Huaxu's age; forever, the golden realm shared the sun's radiance."

Qin He stopped and looked toward the sound. At a street corner stood a dim canopy, enclosed on three sides. Yellow cloth hung within it, lamps lit behind the cloth, and an old man of seventy worked shadow puppets, making the figures perform.

It was, unexpectedly, a Shadow Play stall.

Qin He became 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 had never expected to witness the craft with his own eyes today.

Shadow Play was a quintessential street art. The puppets were thin and light, the props simple; it was commonly called "a whole stage on one shoulder." Whether it was marvelous or not depended entirely on two hands, two feet, and one mouth.

The old man was clearly a master of the trade. A three-foot stretch of raw silk became his stage; ten fingers alone conjured all manner of comedy.

One mouth told the tales of a thousand ages; two hands set a million soldiers dancing in battle.

He was performing a play widely spread among the people, Yue Wu Attacks the Yellow Dragon. Storytellers, opera singers, and music listeners all loved it, because every household knew it and common folk enjoyed hearing it.

Behind the curtain, he recounted the affairs of a thousand ages; beneath the lamp, he waved to the beat of drums and music, playing the tunes of parting and reunion, sorrow and joy, staging the evil and treachery of every dynasty.

In the old man's hands, the thin shadow puppets were given souls, half illusion, half reality.

Qin He watched in fascination. By the time the shadow play ended, the sun was already slanting westward.

A youth beside the old man held out a tray to solicit tips. But times were hard. There were many spectators, yet their pockets were empty; only three or five copper coins fell into the tray.

Neither the old man nor the youth was upset. They cupped their hands to see the guests off, saying that it was getting late and asking them to return tomorrow.

Just as Qin He turned away, there came a clang. A silver ingot landed in the tray.

The old man froze, while the youth brightened with delight.

They turned to look again, but the space before the curtain was empty. They had no idea who had given the silver.