Paper Effigy Skinning, Step-Sensing Danger

"Wait!"

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

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

With no flourish at all, the newcomer simply reached out a plump hand and caught Qin Geng's fist.

Thud.

A muffled impact.

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

His pupils contracted. He used the force 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 an amiable smile. He looked like any fat shopkeeper on the streets of Tianjin.

"Easy. He's human."

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

"Human?"

Qin Geng glanced at the paper figure, still grinning with its deathly pale face. He frowned, every muscle taut.

If that thing was human, then everyone walking down the street 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 figure is my junior brother, Lu Xingmin."

Whether Qin Geng believed him or not, he turned, scooped up the weightless paper figure, and carried him inside like a sack.

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

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

Without looking back, he barked, "Keep up!"

Qin Geng hesitated briefly. Then he remembered he had yet to receive his five silver dollars, gritted his teeth, and followed.

Beyond the side door ran a long, narrow passage thick with the smell of medicinal herbs.

Past it was a side room with a lamp burning inside.

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

Zheng Tonghe laid the "paper figure" flat on the floor with painstaking care, as gently as if he were handling a priceless treasure.

"Lad, don't just stand there. Come help."

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

"All right."

Qin Geng suppressed his doubts and hurried to fetch the incense ash and rooster blood.

The ash was dark gold and carried a strange sandalwood fragrance that steadied his nerves a little.

The blood in the jar was bright red, faintly warm, and had no trace of a fishy smell.

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

As Zheng Tonghe spoke, he took several sheets of yellow talisman paper and a cinnabar brush from his clothes. With practiced strokes, he drew twisted symbols no ordinary person could decipher.

Qin Geng did as he was told. The instant the dark-gold ash touched the paper figure's head, it gave a faint sizzle. A thin wisp of black vapor rose and dispersed into the air.

"You're seeing something rare today."

Zheng Tonghe seemed to sense Qin Geng's confusion. He kept drawing as he explained in an even voice.

"What you're looking at isn't some demon or ghost. It's an esoteric secret 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 anything so incredible.

"Yes."

Zheng Tonghe stuck the three finished talismans to the "paper figure's" forehead, chest, and lower abdomen, then continued. "A person has three souls and seven spirits, with yang energy gathered within."

"When someone suffers a fatal wound and their yang energy is on the verge of dispersing, covering their whole body with Paper Effigy Skin made by an expert using a secret method can temporarily seal in their last breath of yang energy. It puts them in a state of apparent death."

"In that state, their bodily functions fall to a minimum. Breathing and heartbeat nearly cease, blood and energy stop circulating, and their injuries no longer worsen."

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

"That can fool the underworld officers who come to claim their soul and buy time to save them."

"This craft uses the paper figure's deathly energy to lock in a living person's life energy. It's a way to keep someone hanging on."

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

The paths his fingers traced looked chaotic, but followed an underlying pattern, as though he were unlocking invisible shackles.

"But this method is dangerous."

"Once someone wears this skin, they're little different from the living dead. They can't move or speak. They depend entirely on their rescuer to carry them somewhere safe."

"If the paper skin tears along the way, or too much time passes, the person inside loses their yang energy. In an instant, their soul scatters, 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 lurched, and a chill ran down his back.

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

"All right."

Zheng Tonghe finished and let out a long breath.

He picked up a silver knife as thin as a cicada's wing and said to Qin Geng, "Lad, come hold his shoulders. Remember, no matter what you see next, don't let go or make a fuss. Keep him steady, or his yang energy could go astray."

Qin Geng nodded solemnly. He moved beside the "paper figure" and pressed both hands firmly onto the cold, stiff 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.

Rrip—

A faint tearing sound rang out.

No blood. No flesh.

As the blade passed, the paper skin slowly peeled apart on its own, as though someone inside had blown against it.

The smell of herbs and earth, mixed with the faintest hint of blood, drifted from the opening.

Then a face appeared before Qin Geng, pale as paper and drained of blood.

Its features were unmistakably Lu Xingmin's!

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

It was Lu Xingmin.

His eyes were shut, his face ashen, his body smeared with mud and blood.

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

A blackish-purple fist print was stamped squarely between Lu Xingmin's shoulder blades.

It sank deep into the flesh. Around it, the skin and muscle had split in lines radiating outward.

"That's a Western boxing technique."

Zheng Tonghe took one look at the print and cursed under his breath.

He stepped forward at once and felt along Lu Xingmin's broken leg with both hands.

A sharp crack sounded. Lu Xingmin gave a pained grunt, and Zheng Tonghe had already set the bone with clean, decisive movements.

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

Qin Geng stared at the almost miraculous sequence. From turning a paper figure back into a man to setting the bone and applying medicine, Zheng Tonghe did it all in one smooth motion, without a moment wasted.

Everything Qin Geng had seen and heard today had shattered what he thought he knew of the world.

About fifteen minutes later, Lu Xingmin slowly woke.

He stared blankly at the ceiling, then shifted his eyes to Zheng Tonghe, who was wiping his hands, and Qin Geng, who stood in the shadows.

Only then did his tense body relax.

"Whew..."

Lu Xingmin let out a long breath. His voice was hoarse. "Senior Brother Zheng, I'm still alive... That's good."

He turned to Qin Geng and forced a strained smile onto his bloodless face. "Xiao Wu, thanks for this. Without those legs of yours, I really would have died in the old forests of Bell Mountain."

Lu Xingmin struggled to sit up, but the movement pulled at his wound. He sucked in a sharp breath.

"Don't move."

Zheng Tonghe held him down. "I've only just set the bone."

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."

Zheng Tonghe raised no objection and left the side room.

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

Qin Geng caught it.

Its weight made his heart jump.

Ten silver dollars.

Twice the agreed five.

"How do you feel now?"

Zheng Tonghe looked at his junior brother.

"Much better. I'll live."

Lu Xingmin gave a bitter smile and looked at Qin Geng with a complicated expression. "If Xiao Wu hadn't reached another level, if he hadn't been so 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 capable."

Zheng Tonghe also looked at Qin Geng, his eyes glinting within the narrow slits made by his plump cheeks. "If I hadn't arrived in time, the rice-dumpling corpses might not have killed you, but this friend of yours would have done it with one punch."

Qin Geng felt awkward. Clutching the money pouch, he cupped his hands. "Things were urgent. I thought..."

"Thought I was a ghost?"

Lu Xingmin waved a hand, unbothered. "Fair enough. Who wouldn't be thrown off by the sight of that thing? But Senior Brother, you said he nearly killed me? Isn't that an exaggeration?"

"My Paper Effigy Skinning is mainly meant to keep me alive and hide my presence, but the skin is tough, too."

"It's made from the bast of a century-old locust tree, mixed with incense ash from a hundred households and tanned by a secret method. Without six or seven hundred jin of force driven together as one, you couldn't break it."

Lu Xingmin looked surprised.

"That punch really did have it."

Zheng Tonghe smiled at Qin Geng. "His force was unified and drove clean through. His stance was solid, too. That's the authentic frame of Hebei Xingyi Dragon-Tiger, and this lad isn't afraid to risk his life."

Lu Xingmin raised an eyebrow. His look at Qin Geng changed, gaining a teasing edge. "Then I really must thank you for sparing my life."

Perhaps because Qin Geng had truly saved his life, or perhaps because surviving a brush with death had changed his outlook, Lu Xingmin was far warmer than he had been before.

Gone was his cold manner. He kept calling Qin Geng "Xiao Wu" and "Brother Xiao Wu," with a familiarity he had never shown before.

Qin Geng remained silent.

He gripped the heavy pouch of silver dollars while his thoughts waged a fierce battle.

After that narrow escape from death, he had intended never to take this job again, no matter what.

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

But Lu Xingmin had handed him ten without hesitation.

Five silver dollars were not worth the risk.

Ten silver dollars... Qin Geng hesitated.

That money could solve his most pressing problem.

With it, he would no longer have to worry about his daily meals. He could focus on training and push toward level five as a Martial Artist.

He weighed the risks against the reward.

In the end, he decided to get some answers first.

"Shopkeeper Lu,"

Qin Geng raised his head and met Lu Xingmin's eyes. "What exactly were those things we ran into on the mountain tonight? Why... could they imitate human speech?"

More than anything, he wanted to know that.

He could still hear those two voices in the forest imitating Lu Xingmin. The memory made his scalp prickle.

"Damn it, don't get me started."

The subject made Lu Xingmin angry enough to curse.

The effort pulled at his wound, setting off another bout of coughing.

"Those two rice-dumpling corpses could do more than talk. The bastards knew Western Martial Arts!"

"One of them caught me off guard and punched me in the back."

Lu Xingmin kept cursing. "Those foreign devils are definitely behind whatever's happening on the mountain. Who knows what unholy things those goddamned beasts are secretly raising deep in Bell Mountain? But I'm certain those two weren't ordinary rice-dumpling corpses."

"Senior Brother, is Master back yet? He should have seen them before."

"No."

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

He broke off and glanced at Qin Geng standing nearby.

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

Qin Geng was perceptive and understood at once.

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

"I'm just wondering... 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 upright.

"Once your Fire Wheel reaches the third level, come find me. Then you can go into Bell Mountain with me. I'll pay you thirty silver dollars for the job."

Thirty silver dollars!

Qin Geng's heart gave a violent thump.

That money was enough to buy him a month's worth of Bone-Strengthening Powder.

"Carriage drivers with three levels of Fire Wheel are rare, but here in Tianjin, they're still easy enough 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 told him honestly, "It's just... I've had no teacher. I've been figuring things out on my own, so I know nothing about these levels of cultivation you mentioned. What does 'three levels 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, we've had a saying since ancient times: 'Hone your craft through diligence, and you may commune with ghosts and gods.' Across the Three Teachings and Nine Schools and every trade under heaven, if you're willing to work hard and keep at it day after day, year after year, you have a chance to 'rise a level' and grasp wondrous abilities ordinary people don't possess."

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

"Take Martial Artists. At the first level, they develop Bright Force. Their punches release a burst of power that can split stone tablets, and a person they hit goes flying as though hung on a painting. At the second level comes Hidden Force, which leaves the skin and flesh untouched while striking the internal organs."

"Or take Carriage Drivers."

Lu Xingmin pointed at Qin Geng. "The first level 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 level, your stamina grows so deep you can pull a heavy load for hours without stopping, and you recover with astonishing speed. That's Ever-Burning Lamp."

By then, Qin Geng was utterly engrossed.

Fire Wheel corresponded to [Divine Stride].

Ever-Burning Lamp corresponded to [Endless Breath].

So that was it.

Lu Xingmin continued, "Fire Wheel is trade slang among Carriage Drivers. Martial Artists call their levels Bright Force and Hidden Force; corpse drivers call theirs Bell-Ringing and Baleful-Walking... Each trade has its own terms, but all roads lead to the same place."

"In most trades, if you have a lineage and are willing to put in the hard work, you can rise through nine levels and grasp nine abilities."

"The reason I called out to you is that when a Carriage Driver reaches the third level of Fire Wheel, he can grasp two abilities: Step-Sensing Danger and Old Horse Knows the Way."

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

"And Old Horse Knows the Way is even more remarkable. Once you've pulled a carriage along a road, you'll never lose your way on it again. No matter how thick the mountain fog grows, how tangled the terrain becomes, or even if someone sets up a Soul-Confounding Formation, you'll find the right direction."

"Now, no one knows what those foreign devils have done inside Bell Mountain. Demons and monsters have all come crawling out, and the mountain has become treacherous beyond measure. I need a Carriage Driver I can trust, one with three levels of Fire Wheel, to lead the way."

Those words swept the fog from Qin Geng's mind.

He finally understood how cultivation was divided among Great Xin Martial Arts and the Three Teachings and Nine Schools.

Put simply, in the Great Xin Dynasty, every trade was a road to the extraordinary.

Anyone willing to expend far more effort and sweat than ordinary people, and persevere day after day, might grasp a wondrous ability unique to their profession.

Each ability grasped counted as one level of cultivation.

Some trades, such as Martial Artists, had lineages and manuals compiled by their predecessors. Their practitioners needed only to train hard, step by step, to steadily rise through the levels and grasp new abilities.

Other trades, such as Carriage Drivers, had no established system of instruction. Practitioners had to rely entirely on their own insight and sheer persistence.

The [Book of a Hundred Trades] was not some unique power. These rules already existed in the Great Xin Dynasty. The [Book of a Hundred Trades] merely quantified them and made leveling up extraordinarily easy and clear for him.

Levels that others needed years or even decades of grueling work to reach were his for the taking if he ground out enough 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 technique, he had shown Qin Geng the direction and structure of cultivation. That knowledge was worth a thousand pieces of gold.

It also meant that if Qin Geng kept pulling his carriage and raised his [Carriage Driver] level to 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 feeling something through your feet, come find me at Osmanthus Fragrance Studio."

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

"I know the rules."

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

By the time he stepped outside, the sky was already bright.

A few pedestrians had begun to appear on the streets, and breakfast stalls were setting up, steam billowing from their pots.

Qin Geng pulled his jacket tighter, tucked the cloth pouch holding ten silver dollars against his chest, then took hold of his rickshaw 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 scarcely describe.

Martial arts, magical arts, corpse driving, paper effigies, the Three Teachings and Nine Schools, cultivation through the trades...

He had finally touched another side of the Great Xin Dynasty.

A strange and dazzling Great Xin Dynasty, full of danger and boundless possibility.

By the time he returned to Xu Jin's Shanty, daylight had filled the sky. Most of the uncles in the shantytown had already taken their vehicles out to work.

Qin Geng went back to his cramped, shabby room.

He planned to return Xingyi Dragon and Tiger first.

Keeping it on him for too long made him uneasy. If he lost it or someone spotted it, the trouble would be enormous.

He could check on his aunt while he was at it.

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

Qin Geng took out the thin Xingyi Dragon and Tiger booklet first. He carefully brushed off the dust, checked that it was undamaged, and tucked it close to his body.

Then he put the ten silver dollars inside. Together with the four he had already saved, the number of silver dollars in the chest suddenly looked substantial.

"Now I can afford meat, or Bone-Strengthening Powder later on, without worrying."

Qin Geng locked the wooden chest.

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

Once that was done, Qin Geng straightened his clothes, tucked the thin booklet into his robe, and opened the door. He set off on foot toward Jinmen City.