Ghost Festival, Encountering Paper Figures

Li Shiyi had gone mad.

Outside Luoyang City, when Willow Catkins began drifting once more, he saw the white-clad girl who had hurried back from Chang'an City, travel-worn and dusty.

Then the girl died amid Willow Catkins swirling through the sky.

Not long afterward, Li Shiyi left Luoyang, taking a Red-Haired Monkey with him to Chang'an.

Luoyang City had lost a slacker of a boy, while the continent's history had gained a mysterious and eerie Decaying Great Emperor.

Long years passed, and the ancient city by the Luo River remained peaceful and serene.

Every year, as spring gave way to summer, willow fluff still drifted through the sky over the lakeside and streets.

The Decaying Great Emperor vanished from the continent. There were many strange and peculiar tombs in the Great Emperor's Forbidden Zone in the Cloud and Mist Mountain Range. No one knew whether one of them held the decaying body of a Great Emperor.

Then, half a month ago, an unlucky disciple of Great Emperor Changsheng opened a Bronze Mirror and happened to see the Red-Haired old monster that had roamed the Great Emperor's Forbidden Zone for many years.

A mysterious person holding a Purple Cauldron summoned terrifying thunder and struck the Green-Robed Youth into the Luo River.

Drifting along with the current, Gu Baishui woke among the piles of rubble by the riverbank, then encountered a strange little beggar deep in the mountains and forests.

The two traveled together. Perhaps fate had brought them there; before they knew it, they had returned to Luoyang City.

But they had arrived at a delicate turning point. Luoyang City was no longer as peaceful and uneventful as before; many unfamiliar faces in unusual clothes had appeared.

The old Saints had gathered inside Luoyang City, waiting for the day the Decaying Great Emperor's tomb emerged.

"Second Senior Brother said there are no absolute coincidences or accidents in this world."

Gu Baishui's eyelids trembled. Pale-faced, he coughed a few times and stared at the calligraphy and painting on the table, his brows tightly furrowed.

"That leaves just one question. Is Li Shiyi's tomb in Luoyang City or not? And if it is, where was he buried?"

"The Decaying Great Emperor's tomb-if you aren't a Saint of the continent, you really aren't qualified to get involved."

The study remained quiet for a long while. Only at dusk did Gu Baishui push open the wooden door and walk out.

The tavern seemed particularly quiet today. The tables and chairs in the main hall sat empty, and there seemed to be no customers.

Fine rain drifted outside the tavern, and no vendors were hawking their wares at the street stalls. The occasional passerby hurried along.

Only an old storyteller sat leaning against the tavern doorway, holding a bowl of fennel beans. He watched the curtain of rain outside as he chewed the beans in his mouth.

"You're awake?"

The storyteller turned around and glanced at the pale-faced Green-Robed Youth, who was leaning against the doorpost. He paused in surprise.

"How'd you get so weak? Did you forget to close the window last night and catch a chill?"

Gu Baishui shook his head. "It's nothing serious. I've just caught a bit of a chill."

"Of all the times to catch one." The storyteller sighed helplessly. "The medicine shops in the city have all closed their doors to customers. Even if you want to get some medicine, you'll have to wait until after midnight tomorrow."

"Is that so?" Gu Baishui glanced at the empty street and asked curiously, "Why?"

"Luoyang City has a seven-day curfew, and tonight's the strictest night." The storyteller said, "Every shop in the city has to close. Residents must shut their doors and windows and seal their homes, and they can't come out until after midnight tomorrow."

"Is it really that strict?"

"Of course. Tonight is the Ghost Festival according to the Ancient Tang Calendar. It comes about once every four years, though the date varies. Sometimes it falls at the beginning of the year, sometimes at the end."

The storyteller swallowed his fennel beans and said with some solemnity, "When the Ghost Festival arrives, the gates of the underworld open. It's the time when Yin Qi is at its strongest in four years. Ordinary people like us can't go wandering around the streets."

Gu Baishui thought for a moment, then asked, "Will the city guards patrol the streets?"

"There should be some patrols during the first half of the night, but once midnight strikes, they'll all go home. After all, the guards on patrol are ordinary people too."

"I see."

Gu Baishui nodded silently and gazed at the street outside the tavern, deep in thought.

The storyteller, however, simply shut the tavern's front door and turned back to offer Gu Baishui some advice. "You outsiders from the Tang Kingdom are always chasing after strange things, always looking for something new and exciting. But as the old saying goes, you only get one life. A little less curiosity might help you live a few years longer."

Gu Baishui understood the warning in the storyteller's words and gave him a sincere, earnest smile.

"That's right. I'll listen to you, sir. I'm not going anywhere tonight."

The two looked at each other. The Green-Robed Youth seemed very obedient and sincere, and the storyteller smiled with some relief.

When night fell, Gu Baishui nimbly climbed over the wall behind the tavern and jumped down onto the empty street without the slightest hesitation.

His Second Senior Brother had said that those who ignored their elders' advice would suffer for it. But his Second Senior Brother always said one thing and did another, and never listened to their master.

On the eve of the Ghost Festival, Luoyang City's streets were empty, without a single soul in sight.

Rain drifted like mist, shrouding the old city. Gu Baishui stared into the distance, but the torrential rain and fog blocked his view.

The Spiritual Power in his Dantian had nearly run dry. After a whole night, he had only recovered about a tenth of it, and the Divine Sense in his sea of consciousness was in even worse shape.

Gu Baishui had never felt so weak, but to him, it actually made little difference.

The mortals in Luoyang City couldn't hurt him, and he didn't care whether he could fight back if he encountered the old Saints in the city.

After roughly determining his direction, Gu Baishui braved the downpour and headed toward the Old Courtyard in the western part of the city.

But as the young man walked on without stopping, he kept muttering to himself.

"Wait, that's not right. Actually, aside from the little beggar, no one in the city even knows I'm here. Why am I going out of my way to take this risk?"

"With the Bronze Mirror in hand, as long as I safely avoid these old Saints in Luoyang City, I can go anywhere under heaven."

"..."

"Did the lightning fry my brain that night? Is that why I got muddled and let that little beggar talk me into coming to Luoyang City?"

"I can still change my mind and turn back now..."

"..."

"But Second Senior Brother also said that the most detestable people in the world are those who only tell half a story."

"That little beggar didn't finish telling the story."

"Damn it!"

The ancient streets were shrouded in heavy fog.

Gu Baishui had no idea how long he had been walking. He only felt as though he was almost there, but another turn always lay ahead.

As the Ghost Festival drew nearer, Luoyang City seemed to grow more and more sinister without anyone noticing.

Fog and rain mingled, making it almost impossible for passersby to see anything at a distance. The empty, quiet streets held not a single soul.

There were no patrols, no night watchmen, and not a glimmer of light seeped from the shops along either side of the street.

It seemed that only three things remained in all of Luoyang City:

Rain, fog, and a boy who had lost his way.

Gu Baishui was lost, lost among the rain, the fog, and the streets, unable to tell which way he should go.

At the end of the street was a corner; behind him was one too.

Just as he stood there, at a loss, a faint, ethereal ringing suddenly sounded from the thick fog in the distance.

White gauze brushed softly, and plain cloth swayed.

A group of "pedestrians," moving without a sound, came silently from the distant street corner.

They were a group of white Paper Figures dressed in mourning hemp and sackcloth. Their lips were red and their eyes blue, and both cheeks were painted a strange, ghastly crimson.

They stood in eerie silence, staring at the lone pedestrian blocking the middle of the street.

Gu Baishui's numb lips parted. With his neck stiff, he took a step backward.

Then he realized... the same ringing had sounded behind him.