Paper Effigy Skinning, Step-Sensing Danger

"Wait!"

Just as the iron fist, driving a fierce gust before it, was about to smash the paper effigy's face, a deep shout rang out of nowhere.

A short, stout figure slipped between them like a ghost.

Without a flourish, the newcomer merely extended a plump hand and caught Qin Geng's fist squarely in his palm.

Thud.

A muffled impact sounded.

Qin Geng felt as though his punch had sunk into a heap of waterlogged cotton. Its fierce, unstoppable force vanished at once, like a clay ox sinking into the sea without raising a ripple.

His pupils contracted. He used the rebound to leap back, settled into the Three-Body Stance, and watched the newcomer warily.

The man was a middle-aged shopkeeper in a brown silk gown, short and stout, with a kindly smile. He looked like any fat shopkeeper on the streets of Tianjin.

"Easy. He's human."

The stout shopkeeper rolled walnuts in his hand and spoke with a chuckle.

"Human?"

Qin Geng glanced at the paper effigy, still grinning with its deathly pale face, and frowned. Every muscle in his body stayed taut.

If that thing was human, everyone walking the streets was a ghost.

"Yes, human."

The stout shopkeeper's smile faded. "I'm Zheng Tonghe, the shopkeeper of Hundred Herb Hall. The man wrapped inside that paper effigy is my junior martial brother, Lu Xingmin."

Without waiting to see whether Qin Geng believed him, he turned, scooped up the weightless paper effigy, and carried it inside like a sack.

"Come in and help me save him. If we're too late, even the gods won't be able to."

Holding the "paper effigy," Zheng Tonghe hurried to an inconspicuous side door beside Hundred Herb Hall. He hooked it open with his foot, and it creaked.

"Keep up!" he called without looking back.

Qin Geng hesitated briefly, but his five silver dollars still had not been paid. He gritted his teeth and followed.

Behind the side door lay a long, narrow passage filled with the strong scent of medicinal herbs.

Beyond it was a lit side room.

Its furnishings were simple: a wooden bed, a medicine cabinet, and a square table crowded with bottles and jars.

Zheng Tonghe gently laid the "paper effigy" on the floor, handling it as though it were a rare treasure.

"Don't just stand there, young man. Help me."

Without looking up, Zheng Tonghe instructed him, "Third shelf of the medicine cabinet, second drawer from the left. Bring me a dish of the incense ash inside. Then find the earthenware jar with red paper pasted on it and bring me the rooster blood."

"All right."

Qin Geng suppressed his misgivings and quickly found the incense ash and rooster blood.

The ash was dark gold and carried an unusual sandalwood scent that somewhat steadied his nerves.

The blood in the jar was bright red, still faintly warm, and lacked even a trace of a bloody smell.

"Come here. Stand by the effigy's head and sprinkle the ash evenly over its crown."

As Zheng Tonghe spoke, he took several yellow talismans and a cinnabar brush from his robe. With practiced strokes, he drew twisted symbols that ordinary people could never understand.

Qin Geng did as instructed. The instant the dark-gold ash touched the effigy's head, it gave a faint sizzle. A thin wisp of black vapor rose from its crown and vanished into the air.

"You're seeing something rare today."

Zheng Tonghe seemed to sense Qin Geng's questions. He kept drawing talismans as he explained in a matter-of-fact tone.

"What you see isn't some demon or ghost. It's a secret art of the Paper Effigy Maker lineage, a Netherworld Office trade within Great Xin Martial Arts. It's called Paper Effigy Skinning."

"Paper Effigy Skinning?"

Qin Geng murmured the words. He had never heard of such an incredible skill.

"Yes."

Zheng Tonghe placed the three finished talismans on the "paper effigy's" forehead, chest, and lower abdomen before continuing. "A person has three souls and seven spirits, held together by yang energy."

"When someone suffers a fatal wound and their yang energy is on the verge of dissipating, a master can cover their whole body with a Paper Effigy Skin made through secret methods. It temporarily seals in their last breath of yang energy, putting them in a state of apparent death."

"In that state, their bodily functions slow to almost nothing. Breathing and heartbeat become nearly imperceptible, blood and vital energy cease to flow, and the wounds stop worsening."

"To an outsider, they look like a lifeless paper effigy. A dead thing."

"That deceives the soul-reaping officers of the Netherworld Office and buys time for treatment."

"This craft borrows the paper effigy's 'death energy' to lock in a living person's 'life energy.' It's a skill for keeping someone hanging on to life."

As he spoke, Zheng Tonghe picked up the bowl of rooster blood. He dipped his index and middle fingers into it, then swiftly marked the joints, facial features, and seven orifices of the Paper Effigy Skin with a peculiar technique.

The marks looked haphazard, but an underlying pattern guided them, as though he were unlocking invisible shackles.

"But it's a dangerous method."

"Once someone wears this skin, they're little different from the living dead. They can't move or speak. Everything depends on their rescuer getting them somewhere safe in one go."

"If the paper skin tears along the way, or too much time passes, their yang energy escapes. Their souls scatter in an instant, and even the gods can't save them."

Fine beads of sweat appeared on Zheng Tonghe's forehead.

"If that punch of yours had been just a little harder, the skin would have torn."

Qin Geng's heart pounded, and a chill ran down his back.

He had never imagined that his punch had nearly killed Shopkeeper Lu, whom he had risked his life to save.

"There."

Zheng Tonghe finished and let out a long breath.

He picked up a silver knife as thin as a cicada's wing. "Come hold his shoulders down, boy. Whatever you see next, don't let go, and don't make a fuss. Keep him steady so his yang energy doesn't go astray."

Qin Geng nodded solemnly. He stepped beside the "paper effigy" and pressed both hands firmly onto its cold, rigid shoulders.

It felt like holding down an iron block wrapped in stiff cardboard: heavy and utterly lifeless.

Zheng Tonghe drew a deep breath. His gaze sharpened.

Rrrip—

A soft tearing sound rang out.

There was no blood, no flesh.

As the blade passed through, the paper skin slowly peeled itself apart, as though someone had breathed into it from within.

A mingled smell of herbs, earth, and the faintest trace of blood drifted from the opening.

Then a face as pale as paper, utterly devoid of color, appeared before Qin Geng.

Those features belonged to Lu Xingmin!

When the paper skin bearing that eerie smile had been peeled off completely and tossed aside, a living man lay on the floor.

It was Lu Xingmin.

His eyes were shut, his face bloodless, and his body covered in dirt and blood.

His left leg was twisted at a grotesquely unnatural angle. The bone had plainly broken.

On Lu Xingmin's back, over his heart, was a blackish-purple fist mark.

It had sunk deep into his flesh, with radiating tears clearly visible in the skin around it.

"That's Western boxing."

One glance at the mark was enough to make Zheng Tonghe curse under his breath.

He immediately knelt and felt along Lu Xingmin's broken leg with both hands.

Crack. Lu Xingmin let out a pained groan as Zheng Tonghe deftly set the bone.

Zheng Tonghe took a black porcelain bottle from the medicine cabinet, poured out some dark-green salve with a sharp smell, and spread it evenly over Lu Xingmin's broken leg and the wound on his back.

Qin Geng stared at the near-miraculous sequence. From turning a paper effigy back into a man to setting the bone and applying medicine, Zheng Tonghe had done it all in one smooth motion, without the slightest hesitation.

Everything Qin Geng had seen and heard today lay beyond anything he had understood in all his years of life.

About fifteen minutes later, Lu Xingmin slowly woke.

He gazed blankly at the ceiling before his eyes moved to Zheng Tonghe, who was wiping his hands, then to Qin Geng standing in the shadows.

Only then did his tense body relax.

"Whew..."

Lu Xingmin exhaled deeply. His voice was hoarse. "Senior Brother Zheng, I'm still alive... That's good."

He turned to Qin Geng and forced an awkward smile onto his pallid face. "Xiao Wu, thanks for this. Without those quick feet of yours, I'd have died in the old forests of Bell Mountain."

Lu Xingmin struggled to sit up, but the movement pulled at his wounds. He hissed in pain.

"Don't move."

Zheng Tonghe held him down. "The bone's only just been set."

Lu Xingmin took several ragged breaths and pointed toward the counter. "Senior Brother Zheng, give Xiao Wu ten silver dollars. This job was dangerous."

"Mm."

Without another word, Zheng Tonghe left the side room.

He soon returned with a heavy little cloth pouch and tossed it to Qin Geng.

Qin Geng caught it.

The weight made his heart leap.

Ten silver dollars.

Twice the agreed five.

"How do you feel now?"

Zheng Tonghe looked at his junior martial brother.

"Much better. I'll live."

Lu Xingmin gave a wry smile and looked at Qin Geng with complicated eyes. "If Xiao Wu hadn't advanced another level and become absurdly fast on his feet, we really wouldn't have escaped. Those two filthy things were right on our heels."

"Where did you find this friend of yours? He's got some skill."

Zheng Tonghe also looked at Qin Geng, his eyes gleaming between folds of fat. "If I hadn't arrived in time, you'd have survived those walking corpses only for your friend here to kill you with a punch."

Qin Geng felt embarrassed. Clutching the money pouch, he cupped his hands. "Things happened so fast. I thought..."

"That I was a ghost?"

Lu Xingmin waved it off. "Fair enough. Who wouldn't be confused seeing that thing? But Senior Brother, you said he nearly killed me? Isn't that an exaggeration?"

"My Paper Effigy Skinning is mainly for preserving life and hiding one's presence, but the skin is tough, too."

"It's made from the inner bark of a century-old locust tree mixed with incense ash from a hundred households, then cured through secret methods. Without six or seven hundred jin of unified force, there's no breaking it."

Lu Xingmin looked surprised.

"That punch really had it."

Zheng Tonghe smiled at Qin Geng. "His force carried clean through, and his stance was solid. That was authentic Hebei Xingyi Dragon-Tiger. And this boy isn't afraid to fight for his life."

Lu Xingmin raised his eyebrows. His expression shifted as he looked at Qin Geng, teasing now. "Then I really should thank you for sparing me."

Perhaps because Qin Geng had saved his life, or perhaps because surviving such danger had changed his outlook, Lu Xingmin was clearly much warmer than last time.

Gone was his cold manner. He kept calling Qin Geng "Xiao Wu" and "Brother Xiao Wu," sounding almost familiar.

Qin Geng remained silent.

He gripped the heavy pouch of silver dollars, his thoughts locked in battle.

After that brush with death, he had intended never to take this job again.

Risking his life for five silver dollars was not worth it.

But Lu Xingmin had now handed him ten.

Five silver dollars were not worth the risk.

Ten silver dollars... Qin Geng hesitated.

The money could solve his most pressing problem.

With it, he would no longer have to worry about finding food each day. He could focus on training and push toward level five Martial Artist.

He rapidly weighed the risks against the reward.

In the end, he decided to ask a few questions first.

"Shopkeeper Lu,"

Qin Geng raised his head and met Lu Xingmin's eyes. "What exactly were those things we met in the mountains tonight? And why... could they imitate human speech?"

More than anything, he wanted to know that.

Remembering the two voices in the woods mimicking Lu Xingmin still made his scalp prickle.

"Damn it, don't remind me."

The subject set Lu Xingmin off, and he could not help cursing.

That pulled at his wound, bringing on another fit of coughing.

"Those two walking corpses could do more than talk. They knew damned Western martial arts!"

"That's how the bastard caught me. It punched me in the back."

Lu Xingmin went on cursing. "Those foreign devils are definitely behind this. Goddamned animals. Who knows what unholy things they're secretly raising deep in Bell Mountain? But one thing's certain: those two weren't ordinary walking corpses."

"Senior Brother, has Master still not returned? He should have seen them before."

"No."

Zheng Tonghe shook his head. "As for Master..."

He stopped abruptly and glanced at Qin Geng beside them.

The meaning in his eyes was clear: what came next was not for an outsider to hear.

Qin Geng was quick to catch on.

He cupped his hands. "Shopkeeper Lu, Shopkeeper Zheng, since Shopkeeper Lu is out of danger, I won't disturb you any longer."

"It's just... the job on the third of next month..."

"It might not be on the third."

Lu Xingmin cut him off and, with Zheng Tonghe's help, struggled into a sitting position.

"Come find me when your Fire Wheel reaches the third level. Then we'll go into Bell Mountain together. I'll pay you thirty silver dollars for the trip."

Thirty silver dollars!

Qin Geng's heart gave a violent leap.

That money was enough to keep him supplied with Bone-Strengthening Powder for a month.

"Carriage drivers with three tiers of Fire Wheel are rare, but here in Tianjin, they aren't hard to find."

Lu Xingmin looked Qin Geng in the eye and said slowly, "Thirty silver dollars is a fair price. Don't think I'm trying to swindle you."

"Shopkeeper Lu, I don't think you're swindling me."

Qin Geng spoke frankly. "It's just... I've never had a teacher. I've been figuring things out on my own, so I don't know anything about these cultivation tiers you mentioned. What does 'three tiers of Fire Wheel' mean?"

"I see."

Understanding dawned on Lu Xingmin, and he smiled.

"..."

He caught his breath, then explained patiently. "In the Great Xin Dynasty, there's an old saying: 'Through diligent practice, a craft can reach the realm of ghosts and gods.' Across every walk of life and all the Hundred Trades, if you're willing to work hard and keep studying your craft day after day, year after year, you have a chance to 'rise a tier' and grasp wondrous abilities ordinary people don't possess."

"The clearest sign that you've risen a tier is that you can plainly feel you've gained a real ability."

"Take Martial Artists. At the first tier, they develop Bright Force. When they throw a punch, their power erupts, splitting stone tablets and shattering rock, sending a man flying like a painting hung on a wall. At the second tier comes Hidden Force. Their blows leave the skin and flesh untouched but strike straight at the organs."

"Or take Carriage Drivers."

Lu Xingmin pointed at Qin Geng. "The first tier is what you have now. Wind rises beneath your feet, you run faster than an ordinary horse, and your stance is steady as a mountain. That's Fire Wheel. At the second tier, your stamina lasts long enough to pull a heavy load for hours without stopping, and you recover remarkably fast. That's Ever-Burning Lamp."

By then, Qin Geng was utterly absorbed.

Fire Wheel corresponded to [Divine Stride].

Ever-Burning Lamp corresponded to [Endless Breath].

So that was how it worked.

Lu Xingmin went on. "'Fire Wheel' is simply trade slang among Carriage Drivers. Martial Artists call their tiers Bright Force and Hidden Force; corpse drivers call theirs Bell-Ringing and Baleful-Walking... Each trade has its own names, but all roads lead to the same destination."

"Most trades, provided they have a tradition to pass down and you're willing to put in the work, can reach nine tiers and yield nine abilities."

"The reason I called you over is that a Carriage Driver who reaches the third tier of Fire Wheel can develop two abilities: Step-Sensing Danger and Old Horse Knows the Way."

Lu Xingmin's expression turned grave. "Step-Sensing Danger does just what the name says. Before you take your next step, the soles of your feet sense whether the path ahead is safe or hides danger. It's an almost uncanny instinct that lets you avoid many unseen traps and ambushes."

"And Old Horse Knows the Way is even more remarkable. If you've pulled a carriage along a route once, you'll never lose your way on it again. No matter how thick the fog in the mountains, how complicated the terrain becomes, or whether someone has laid a maze to confound your senses, you'll find the right direction."

"Right now, nobody knows what those foreign devils have done inside Bell Mountain. Demons and monsters are crawling out of the woodwork, and the mountain has become dangerously unpredictable. I need a Carriage Driver I can trust, one with the abilities of three tiers of Fire Wheel, to guide us."

His explanation swept away Qin Geng's confusion.

At last, he understood how cultivation was divided among Great Xin Martial Arts and the many walks of life.

Put simply, in the Great Xin Dynasty, every trade offered a path to the extraordinary.

With far more effort and sweat than most people could bear, sustained day after day, one might awaken a wondrous ability unique to one's profession.

Each ability awakened counted as a rise in cultivation by one tier.

Some trades, such as Martial Artists, had teachers and manuals compiled by their predecessors. By following those methods and practicing hard, they could steadily rise through the tiers and acquire new abilities.

Other trades, such as Carriage Drivers, had no organized tradition. Practitioners relied entirely on their own insight and their willingness to keep grinding away.

The [Book of a Hundred Trades] was not a unique supernatural gift. The rules it followed already existed in the Great Xin Dynasty; the book merely expressed them as data and made leveling up far easier and more straightforward for him.

Tiers that cost others years or even decades of hard work were his to gain simply by grinding experience.

"I understand."

Qin Geng bowed solemnly to Lu Xingmin. "Thank you for your guidance, Shopkeeper Lu."

Though Lu Xingmin had not taught him any specific techniques, he had shown Qin Geng the direction and structure of cultivation. That knowledge was worth a fortune.

It also meant that if he kept pulling his carriage and raised [Carriage Driver] to level thirty, the talents he gained should be the Step-Sensing Danger and Old Horse Knows the Way that Shopkeeper Lu had mentioned.

"When you start sensing something through your feet, come find me at Osmanthus Fragrance Studio."

Lu Xingmin waved a hand, looking somewhat weary. "And remember, don't tell anyone else."

"I know the rules."

Qin Geng clasped his fists again. Without another word, he turned and strode out of Hundred Herb Hall.

Outside, daylight had already filled the sky.

A few pedestrians had begun to appear on the streets. Breakfast stalls were setting up too, steam billowing from them.

Qin Geng pulled his jacket tighter and tucked the cloth pouch holding ten silver dollars deep inside his clothes. Then he took up his carriage and headed toward Ping'an County Town.

This time, he felt nothing like he had on the way there.

His fear had faded, replaced by an excitement he could hardly describe.

Martial arts, mystical arts, corpse driving, paper effigies, every walk of life, cultivation through a profession...

He had touched the other side of the Great Xin Dynasty.

A Great Xin Dynasty strange and fantastical, fraught with danger, yet brimming with possibility.

By the time he returned to Xu Jin's Shanty, daylight was bright, and most of the older men in the shanty district had already gone out to work with their carriages.

Qin Geng returned to his cramped, shabby room.

He planned to return the copy of Xingyi Dragon and Tiger first.

Keeping it on him for so long made him uneasy. If he lost it or someone caught sight of it, the trouble would be immense.

He would visit his aunt while he was at it.

The chest was small. Apart from the four silver dollars and roughly four hundred copper coins he had saved, and a copy of Xingyi Dragon and Tiger, it held nothing else.

Qin Geng took out the Xingyi Dragon and Tiger booklet, carefully brushed the dust from it, and checked that it was undamaged before tucking it close to his body.

Then he put the ten silver dollars inside. Added to the four he had saved earlier, they made the pile in the chest look substantial.

"Now I can afford meat, and Bone-Strengthening Powder later on."

Qin Geng locked the wooden chest.

He covered it completely with a few ragged clothes and other odds and ends, then pushed it back into the least noticeable corner deep beneath the bed.

With that done, Qin Geng straightened his clothes, slipped the thin booklet into his jacket, and opened the door. He set off on foot for Jinmen City.