The Vanishing Art

L City had once been an ancient capital. But after the reform and opening-up, it failed to keep pace with the times, partly because of certain policies and partly because so many resources had been poured into developing the neighboring cities.

As a result, it took all these years for the city to inch its way into the ranks of second-tier cities on the strength of tourism.

The old-town cultural district had been developed with great enthusiasm. Red lanterns lined both sides of the street, and at night it became famous for its red-light district—cough, no, for its street food.

Whether by day or night, the street was packed with people. The neighboring street, though, was deserted.

A shop on one side of the street displayed a sign bearing the character for "longevity." Wreaths stood by the door, while three or five old men sat outside, drinking tea and chatting.

Business was slow. Every so often someone came by, but it was always the same: they paid in a hurry and left.

Old Zhou sat in a chair, reading the news on his phone. Every so often, he chuckled and chatted with the other old men about everyday matters—how vegetable prices had dropped again, how housing prices had recently started climbing, and the like.

As they talked, Old Zhou suddenly raised an eyebrow. He watched a young man approach the shop and stop in front of several Paper Dolls beside the funeral wreaths, staring at them. Old Zhou immediately got up and went over to greet him.

"Little brother, our wreaths and Paper Dolls are all the latest styles. We deliver, and our prices are fair. Are you looking on behalf of an elder in your family, or...?"

Old Zhou asked in a low voice from behind him. In this line of work, you couldn't stand in front of the customer, much less greet him with a smile.

Xu Tong ignored Old Zhou and merely pointed at the Paper Doll in front of him. He lightly tapped it with his finger. "Pop!" A hole appeared in the doll's head.

Xu Tong shook his head in disappointment, left a hundred yuan as compensation, and went on to the next shop.

He visited several shops in a row, but couldn't find a Paper Doll he liked.

The paper figures in these shops looked as if they'd been made for fun. They seemed to be nothing more than a few pieces of paper pasted together and sprayed with paint. It wasn't just shoddy work—it was practically an insult to the dead.

Up ahead stood Drum Tower, the old city gate of L City. They said the Japanese invaders had failed to take it even after attacking for a long time. Now only the tower remained; the city walls on either side had long since vanished.

Just as he was thinking of looking elsewhere, he turned around and saw Old Zhou standing not far behind him, smiling broadly.

When Old Zhou saw him looking over, he hurried over in short, quick steps. "Little brother, are you looking for someone or something? We know the shops around here. Tell me what you're after, and I'll help you find it."

Xu Tong eyed him suspiciously. Once he was sure Old Zhou meant no harm, he took out a paper flower he'd made himself and handed it to him. "Could you tell me who sells something like this?"

"Oh!"

Old Zhou stared at the paper flower in his hand, mouth agape, unable to speak for a long while. He carefully took it and gently rubbed it between his fingers a few times, then shook his head. "Well, I haven't seen such a beautiful paper flower in years."

He handed it back to Xu Tong and led him to a chair by the roadside. "I've been in this trade for over twenty years. I inherited it from my father and have been working here ever since. This paper flower of yours is made using an old technique. No one does it anymore."

Old Zhou was telling the truth. In the old days, every fold in a paper flower had to be just right. If an apprentice dared to make one by pasting on paper pulp, he wouldn't have the face to say who had taught him.

And the Paper Dolls made back then were even more remarkable. Once their eyes were painted on, they looked just like living people. Standing there, they were enough to send a chill down anyone's spine.

But they were terribly expensive, too. Unless you came from a wealthy family, who could afford that many Paper Dolls?

Times had changed. People no longer cared about so many details. What mattered most was keeping the price low.

Even the wreaths in his shop were bought wholesale from overseas. On closer inspection, you could see the wire ties on the back.

"I heard they're going to ban burning wreaths in the city in a few months. A few of us old hands have been talking about clearing out our stock and changing trades while we can. By then, you probably won't even be able to find ordinary stuff like this."

Old Zhou was an honest man. He didn't hide why he'd approached Xu Tong, but after learning what Xu Tong was looking for, he spoke plainly.

"I see. Thanks, boss."

After hearing Old Zhou out, Xu Tong felt half his hopes sink. He'd been inspired by a news story and decided to find an old craftsman to learn from, hoping he might discover a way to break through.

He hadn't expected things to turn out like this. Unable to hide his disappointment, he said goodbye to the shopkeeper and turned to leave.

It seemed he'd have to enter the Script World to find a way to achieve a deep appraisal.

But the problem was, even if he completed the main quest in the Script World, how much time would he have left to explore? And even if he found what he was looking for, he couldn't exactly be thrown out of the Script World before he'd said more than a few words.

The more he thought about it, the more frustrated he became. The only thing to blame was how quickly the times had changed—so quickly that things that should have been preserved had vanished forever into the river of history.

"Little brother! Little brother..."

In a daze, Xu Tong suddenly heard someone calling behind him. He turned to look and saw Old Zhou hurrying after him.

Old Zhou ran up, panting a few times, then slapped his forehead. "I forgot, I forgot! No one sells paper flowers like this, but there is an old master who used to make them. You can go look for him. If he's still alive, he must be at least eighty. You'll just have to see if luck's on your side."

As he spoke, Old Zhou pointed toward Drum Tower. "Go past Drum Tower, then continue to the intersection. Look for the house with a pomegranate tree by the front door. The man's surname is Song. He's called... Anyway, just call him Old Master Song. I saw him a few years ago. If you go see him, remember to bring some braised meat."

Hearing Old Zhou's words, Xu Tong was overjoyed. He thanked him repeatedly and, without missing a beat, slipped a stack of bills into Old Zhou's hand.

Old Zhou beamed.

Following Old Zhou's directions, Xu Tong headed east along the pedestrian street. After crossing the intersection, he hadn't gone far before he found a house with a pomegranate tree planted outside.

The old town had undergone several rounds of street renovation, and every household's gate had been given a neat new coat of paint. Yet this house's dilapidated entrance still looked completely out of place.

He tried pushing the gate. It wasn't locked, and hope stirred in Xu Tong's heart. But as soon as he stepped into the yard, that hope withered halfway.

The yard still had a dirt path, choked with weeds. There were several single-story houses and a smallish courtyard, with a few poplar trees scattered around.

Something in a nearby water jar was giving off a strange smell.

At the sight of this, Xu Tong's hopes sank even further.

The place looked as if it had been abandoned for years. The windows in the rooms on either side were coated in grime, so he couldn't see inside.

Xu Tong tried pushing the doors a few times, but all he got was a shower of dust.

Since he'd already come this far, he walked up to the main room and pushed the door open.

"Creak..."

As the door slowly swung inward, a heavy musty smell wafted out, making him wrinkle his nose.

It was daytime, yet the room seemed shrouded in dust, indistinct and hard to see through.

The light outside shone in, but the dust in the air seemed to block the sunlight and scatter it.

But when he saw the furnishings inside, he stood rooted to the spot, stunned and thrilled.

Like a boy who'd stumbled upon a treasure, he stepped into the room, his face full of curiosity.

Two rows of armchairs inside were full of people.

An old man held a pipe in one hand, while a child beside him raised a match to light it. A girl on the left poured tea for everyone from a kettle, but one of her feet was planted on the young man beside her. He was grimacing in pain.

Amid the hazy smoke filling the room, Xu Tong felt as if he'd traveled through time into the distant past, entering a bygone era and hearing the echoes of its history in this very house.

Every person was rendered so lifelike that even the wrinkles on their faces looked perfectly natural.

If he hadn't looked closely, he might not have realized that the people before him were Paper Dolls.

He stopped in front of the old man and studied his beard and fingernails. Every inch was seamlessly wrapped in paper pulp, the details rendered to perfection, making it impossible to tell them from the real thing.

"Dong!!"

The clock on the wall chimed. Xu Tong followed the sound and saw that it was already six in the evening.

Just as he was about to speak,

his wrist suddenly tightened. The Paper Doll seated in front of him slowly opened its eyelids. Its clear black-and-white eyes slid sideways to stare at him, and a hoarse voice echoed through the empty room. "Young man, now that you've come, don't leave. Stay here and keep me company."

"Gasp..."

Staring at the old man in front of him, Xu Tong's pupils narrowed. His eyes fixed on the old man, then rolled back. After swaying a few times, he toppled backward, stiff as a board, and crashed to the floor.

"Thud!"

The heavy impact froze the smile on the old man's face. He stared blankly at Xu Tong.

"Clatter!"

The pipe slipped from his hand, and its jade bowl shattered on the floor.

"Young man! Young man!!"

When he shakily placed a hand beneath Xu Tong's nose, the old man froze. He sat dazed in his chair for a long moment, then slapped his thigh.

"Oh, what a mess! Young man, you... I should've known better than to scare you. What a thing for an old man like me to have done!"

He let out a pained wail, then anxiously checked Xu Tong's breathing again. When he confirmed there was none, he grew even more flustered and hurriedly patted himself down.

"Call 120! Call 120! Young man, hang in there! My phone, my phone—where is it?"

He searched himself, but the phone he usually kept close at hand was nowhere to be found. In his panic, he tore open the thick layer of paper pulp covering his body, sweating profusely.

Just then, a hand lifted and pointed at the phone lying on the table. "It's right here!!"