The Return to Bell Mountain and the Strange Affair of the Paper Figure

On the first day of the tenth month, the waning moon hung like a hook.

After finishing his last fare, Qin Geng made his familiar way to the braised offal stall in South City as dusk fell. "Boss, the usual!" he called.

"Coming right up!"

The burly stall owner answered cheerfully, deftly fishing lung and pork intestines from the bubbling stock.

Before long, he set a heaping bowl of braised offal before Qin Geng, along with five flatbreads soaked through with broth.

These days, Qin Geng needed a full pound and a half of meat at each meal just to meet the demands of his training.

The thought weighed on him like a millstone.

He was anxious about money.

In a single month, his appetite had grown from one pound to a pound and a half.

His stomach had become a bottomless pit.

I need to earn more.

As Qin Geng wolfed down his food, he swiftly tallied the past month's income and expenses in his head.

At a nearby table, Master Zhu Xin chatted idly with several others in his trade, spittle flying.

Qin Geng did not join them. His mind was on his accounts.

Thanks to the new rickshaw, I've brought in a decent sum this month.

I've run until my calves cramped every day. After the sixty wen owed to the rickshaw company, I've taken home at least fifty wen, sometimes seventy. Call it sixty a day on average.

Over thirty days, that's eighteen hundred wen—more than double what I made last month pulling that battered handcart.

Divine Stride and Endless Breath deserve some credit for that.

Qin Geng knew it well. Without his speed and stamina, he could never have earned that much.

Others collapsed after seven or eight fares a day. He could run fifteen without batting an eye.

Among the carriage drivers, Qin Geng was now unquestionably one of the best.

But the cost of feeding myself has risen right along with my earnings.

The figures did not bear close scrutiny.

Qin Geng earned plenty, but it slipped away just as fast.

At first, a pound of braised offal a day had barely been enough.

But as he worked the Martial Artist profession up to level three in the Book of a Hundred Trades, his body became a furnace with its doors flung open. No matter how much fuel he fed it, the fire burned through everything in moments.

A few days ago, when his Martial Artist level advanced, hunger had seeped so deep into his bones that it woke him in the middle of the night.

Now, without at least a pound and a half of braised offal at a meal, he lacked the strength even to practice his stance.

Food alone was costing him nearly a hundred and seventy wen a day.

Earn sixty, eat a hundred and seventy.

Qin Geng gave a rueful smile and drained the last of his broth.

Over the month, every one of the eighteen hundred wen he had worked so hard to earn had vanished, along with a good portion of his savings.

Of the six silver dollars he had once carried, nearly three had gone on food alone that month.

Repairs to his rickshaw, patched tires, a few books, and other small purchases had cost another three hundred-odd wen.

When he totaled it all, he had saved nothing that month and had eaten through more than another silver dollar of his reserves.

Shopkeeper Lu had given him five silver dollars, and he had found one on Lai Tou. He had also saved six hundred wen the previous month. After buying a watch, paper, brushes, and ink, he had been left with five silver dollars and a few hundred wen.

Now he had only four silver dollars and a small, jingling pouch holding some four hundred copper coins.

At this rate, I'll be out of money by the end of the month.

Qin Geng's brows knotted.

And this was only the beginning.

If his Martial Artist level rose again, two meals a day might not be enough. He would have to add a third.

According to Xingyi Dragon and Tiger, he would soon need Bone-Strengthening Powder to nourish his blood and vitality.

That was not something priced in wen.

What if I take porter work at the Grain Transport Gang's docks?

The idea surfaced in Qin Geng's mind.

Carry heavy loads, get paid by the piece.

If I'm willing to work, my strength can do the job of three men. The pay should be good.

And who knows? Porter might count as a new trade in the Book of a Hundred Trades. If it gives me two more talents, I'll make a killing.

His mind raced with possibilities.

But I can't give up driving.

That's my foundation. The better my professional talents, the stronger I'll become at martial arts.

Qin Geng made up his mind. He needed another way to earn money.

He focused inward and summoned the Book of a Hundred Trades.

A screen appeared in his mind, its writing clear.

[System Name: Book of a Hundred Trades]

[Core Principle: Everyone in this world has a trade; through diligence, mastery can move gods and ghosts]

[Activated Profession 1: Carriage Driver (Level 19)]

[Experience: 11/190]

[Talents: Divine Stride (Level 2), Endless Breath (Level 1)]

[Activated Profession 2: Martial Artist (Level 3)]

[Experience: 12/30]

[Level 5 Talent Option: Dragon Spine Through the Back (Level 1)]

[Shelved Profession: Beggar (Level 1)]

Seeing the panel reassured Qin Geng.

Carriage Driver was already level nineteen, nearly level twenty.

When it reached twenty, he would have another chance to improve a talent.

This time, he had decided to raise Endless Breath.

Greater stamina meant longer stance-training sessions and faster recovery.

As for Martial Artist, a month of training through rain and shine had brought it to level three.

Now, each evening of stance training earned him at least two experience points, or three when he was in good form.

At that rate, he was not far from level five and unlocking Dragon Spine Through the Back.

Qin Geng swallowed the last of the broth in a few gulps, wiped his mouth, and returned the empty bowl to the stall owner.

"You've started learning martial arts, haven't you, Xiao Wu?"

Master Zhu Xin, who had been silent until now, spoke with a smile over his teacup.

The others at his table turned to look as well.

These men knew everything that went on nearby. They spent their days at the stall drinking tea, playing chess, and chatting, and they knew the neighborhood inside out.

Qin Geng came here every day without fail to eat braised offal, and his appetite kept swelling like a puffed-up balloon. They had noticed long ago.

"Nothing gets past you, Master Zhu Xin."

Qin Geng smiled and did not deny it.

In Tianjin, hiding something could sometimes draw more suspicion.

Admitting it openly made him seem forthright instead.

"Good. That's very good."

Master Zhu Xin did not ask who had taught him or what he was learning. He merely sighed. "Times have been getting more unsettled lately... A little martial skill could save your life when it counts. That's plain sense."

"What makes you say that?"

Qin Geng thought of the two Grain Transport Gang men who had spoken of a "drowned corpse turning monstrous" in his rickshaw. He also remembered snippets of talk about ghosts and demons from passengers over the past month, and took the chance to ask.

He took thirty wen from his money pouch and slapped it onto the table.

"Boss, bring Master Zhu Xin's table a pot of good wine!"

"Coming right up!"

The stall owner answered loudly.

A glint of approval appeared in Master Zhu Xin's cloudy eyes as he took a sip of tea.

Qin Geng had shown him proper respect.

"Hahaha! You know how things are done, lad."

The warmed wine soon arrived. Master Zhu Xin filled his own cup and began leisurely. "Lad, remember what I told you last time? Tianjin is the gateway to the throne, where nine rivers run down and the Dragon Vein converges. Since ancient times, evil has never dared trespass here. Like the capital, Tianjin is pure ground. Any demon or monster that comes here has to coil up and lie low."

"I remember."

Qin Geng nodded and sat on a small stool nearby.

"The Dragon Vein does more than hold evil at bay."

Master Zhu Xin lowered his voice, his expression turning grave. "It symbolizes the nation's fortunes. It's the root of the Great Xin Dynasty, and the foundation that lets all us folk, from every walk of life and every trade, make a steady living. When the Dragon Vein thrives, the nation prospers and the trades flourish. But if something happens to it..."

He said no more. Instead, he dipped his chopsticks in wine and drew a cross on the table.

"Those Westerners are sly as foxes."

"They know guns and cannons aren't enough to force their way into the Great Xin Dynasty. They have to strike at the root first—sever our Dragon Vein and destroy the nation's fortunes... Once people lose their heads and the country falls apart, they'll sweep in as if no one stands in their way."

"Strange things have been happening more and more, inside and outside the city. It's a sign. I reckon something terrible has already happened beneath the Tianjin River and in the Seven Mountains of Tianjin..."

Master Zhu Xin raised his cup, drained it, and smacked his lips. "These old bones of mine are already buried up to the neck, so it hardly matters to me. But you young people have a hard road ahead."

"Come now. You're still as sturdy as ever!"

Qin Geng offered him a compliment.

"Hah! Don't try to sweet-talk me."

Master Zhu Xin waved a hand, though he was plainly pleased. "If I still couldn't see life and death for what they are, I'd have wasted all these decades in Tianjin."

Qin Geng pondered a moment, then asked what mattered most to him. "Master Zhu Xin, how would someone... sever a Dragon Vein?"

The mood at the table froze.

Master Zhu Xin's smile faded. He narrowed his eyes and studied Qin Geng before smiling again. "Hahaha. Lad, that question could cost you your head. How would a streetwise old fellow like me know a secret that concerns the fate of the realm?"

Qin Geng realized he was right.

Such a thing amounted to rebellion.

If everyone knew how to sever a Dragon Vein and shake the nation's fortunes, the Great Xin Dynasty would have been turned upside down long ago.

He asked no more questions. Rising, he cupped his fists.

"Thank you, Master Zhu Xin. I won't keep you from your wine. Enjoy it."

"Off you go."

Qin Geng turned and disappeared into the deepening night.

Back at Xu Jin's Shanty, Qin Geng greeted the older men he knew, then headed deep into the lanes to the abandoned threshing ground he had long since claimed as his training ground.

The night was still, broken only by autumn insects rasping in the grass.

He took off his shirt, drew a deep breath of cold night air, and settled into the Three-Body Stance.

After a month, the posture was second nature to him, each movement precise.

As he circulated the Six Harmonies Breathing Method, the nourishment from the meat he had eaten that day swiftly became surging heat. It flowed through his limbs and bones, washing over and nourishing every inch of muscle, sinew, and skin.

After two hours of grueling practice, sweat had soaked his trouser legs, and every muscle in his body hovered on the edge of aching and trembling.

[Ding!]

[Profession: Martial Artist (Level 3), Experience +2]

When Qin Geng finished, he felt comfortable from head to toe. The day's anxieties seemed to have left with his sweat.

The month had passed without incident.

Nothing more had come of Boss Lin's decision to return his rickshaw.

After the people of Yi He Shantytown blocked the road with large stones, they had caused no more trouble.

Everything seemed a little too peaceful.

In the blink of an eye, it was the third day of the tenth month.

Dawn was still some way off, and the hour of the hare had yet to begin. All of Ping'an County Town lay deep in sleep.

But Qin Geng had already pulled his rickshaw quietly to the foot of Bell Mountain, outside the Heaven-Reaching Gate.

This was the day he had arranged to meet Shopkeeper Lu.

The mountain woods in late autumn were much colder than the town.

Gusts of chill wind swept out of the trees, stirring fallen leaves with a rustle like countless feet walking through the dark.

Qin Geng was even more nervous than on his first visit.

He gripped the rickshaw handles without thinking, his palms slick with cold sweat.

Though he was now a level-three Martial Artist, the Zombie he had encountered last time could leap about with incredible speed and possessed Infinite Strength. His skills were nowhere near the threshold of Bright Force; he had no chance against it.

He had resolved to turn and run the moment Shopkeeper Lu appeared and climbed aboard. He would not linger for an instant.

The shadows of the trees swayed in the wind, baring claws and teeth.

The wind howled, now weeping, now murmuring, filling his ears and making his scalp prickle.

Then came the faint sound of vegetation stirring in the woods to the east.

A weak, familiar voice drifted to him on the wind.

"Xiao Wu, give me a hand."

It was Shopkeeper Lu!

Qin Geng perked up and looked toward the voice.

Deep in the woods to the east, the night was too dark to make anything out clearly. Qin Geng could only glimpse a swaying human silhouette.

Qin Geng was about to pull the rickshaw over to help when something strange happened!

From the west—the opposite direction—came the sound of rustling vegetation.

Then an identical voice rang out.

"Brother Xiao Wu, give me a hand."

Qin Geng froze. A chill shot from the soles of his feet straight to the crown of his head.

He whipped his head toward the west. There stood another blurry human silhouette, moving almost exactly like the one to the east.

Both voices matched Shopkeeper Lu's perfectly in pitch and tone. There was no telling which was real.

"Fuck!"

A chill raced up Qin Geng's spine to the crown of his head. His scalp prickled, and cold sweat soaked through his shirt in an instant.

What the hell was this?

He clenched his fists. His mind was a mess, and his first thought was to turn and run.

To hell with those five silver dollars!

His life was worth more than money!

But just as he started to turn the handlebars, a closer, more solid voice came from the ground right in front of him.

The man was covered in dirt. One leg was twisted at a grotesque angle, plainly broken.

He struggled to raise his head, revealing a face smeared with blood.

It was Lu Xingmin!

"Brother Xiao Wu... give me a hand."

His voice was thin as a thread, almost lost beneath the wind.

If Qin Geng had not been so close, he would never have heard it.

"I'm Lu Xingmin."

Shopkeeper Lu had barely finished speaking when the two eerie voices in the woods, one east and one west, sounded again at the same time. Mimicking his tone, they repeated his words exactly:

"I'm Lu Xingmin..."

This time, Qin Geng could see a little more clearly.

The two figures were hopping forward!

He could not see their faces, but those distinctive movements left no doubt: they were Zombies!

Zombies...

They could imitate human speech now?!

Qin Geng was scared out of his wits.

"Take me into town... to Hundred Herb Hall..."

Shopkeeper Lu used the last of his strength to point toward town.

"..."

For a moment, Qin Geng's mind went blank.

Then his instinct to survive overwhelmed every trace of fear.

He lunged forward, grabbed Shopkeeper Lu by the arm, and tossed him into the rickshaw's rear seat like a sack.

"Hold on tight!"

With a roar, he gripped the handlebars and drove forward with his whole back and waist.

Whoosh!

The rickshaw shot away like an arrow loosed from a bow.

Qin Geng ran faster than he ever had in his life, his legs spinning like Wind-Fire Wheels. Only one thought remained in his head—run!

He did not dare look back, slow down, or even draw a full breath. He fixed his eyes on the small patch of road ahead and ran like mad.

Wind howled past his ears. The scenery on either side flew backward.

From Heaven-Reaching Gate to the point where Ping'an County Town came into view, the journey normally took at least two hours on foot.

This time, he covered it in just forty-five minutes.

Even after entering town, he did not slow down. He tore through the deserted streets toward Hundred Herb Hall, the largest pharmacy in Jinmen City.

Only when the signboard bearing the three gilded characters for "Hundred Herb Hall" appeared before him did Qin Geng come to a steady stop.

Dawn had barely begun to break. There was not a soul on the street, and Hundred Herb Hall's doors were still shut tight, without so much as a crack between the panels.

"Huff... huff..."

Qin Geng leaned on the handlebars, gulping for air. His chest burned.

"He isn't dead, is he?"

Only after catching his breath for a while did he remember the man in the rickshaw. He slowly turned to look at the seat.

The moment he looked, Qin Geng nearly jumped out of his skin.

Shopkeeper Lu was nowhere on that seat!

In his place sat a paper effigy!

A lifelike paper effigy dressed in burial clothes!

Its face was pale as paper, but two garish circles of cinnabar rouge marked its cheeks. Its mouth stretched into an impossibly eerie smile, and its lifeless, ink-dotted eyes stared straight at him.

Gaudy and sinister.

Qin Geng's mind went blank with a buzz.

Back at the foot of the mountain, three voices had spoken.

One had been right beside him. Two had been deep in the woods.

Had he been pulling this ghastly thing all the way here?

Cold swept across Qin Geng's back. An indescribable dread and revulsion surged through him.

"Aah—!"

In that instant, his terror turned to raw violence.

After a month of martial arts training, Qin Geng was no longer a Carriage Driver who could only hide when trouble came.

He was a Martial Artist who trained day and night and swallowed Blood Fare whole!

The blood and vigor within him erupted.

He dropped into the Three-Body Stance by instinct, stepped forward, and drove his waist and legs as one. His spine snapped into motion like a great dragon, channeling all his strength into his right fist.

"Fuck you and your mother!"

Boom!

Qin Geng threw his fist straight at the eerie paper effigy!