Chapter 64: This Venerable One Tells Shidi a Story

Mo Ran looked in the direction the voice had come from only to

see its source waddling unsteadily in a little jog from the stone steps of the

residence.

It was a small child, three or four years old, a bamboo pinwheel in

hand as he bounced toward Chu-gongzi. He was dressed simply, with a jade

pendant hanging around his neck, along with a lock of entrusted name

12

 for

good fortune and a protection amulet of red silk. He looked every bit like Mo

Ran's little shidi, just smaller.

Mo Ran stared. Now he knew the true reason those riders had been

gossiping. He couldn't help muttering, "Shidi, ah, you and Shizun are both

from Lin'an, and Shizun even has the Chu name. Do you think this Chu family

from two hundred years ago might be your ancestors, and that you two might

be distant relatives? Seems pretty likely to me."

Chu Wanning said nothing, staring at the father and son. He'd never

known his own origins, and he didn't remember much of his childhood either.

Could this Chu-gongzi really be his ancestor?

He was still pondering this when Mo Ran reached the front of the line.

Chu-gongzi was about to hand Mo Ran a talisman when he looked up

to see an unfamiliar face. He paused minutely before smiling gently. "Is it

your first time here?" His voice was mellow and refined, worlds apart from

Chu Wanning's ice-cold severity.

"Uh… Uh, y-yeah." Being suddenly spoken to in such an open and

friendly manner by someone who looked just like his shizun had Mo Ran

feeling some kind of way, and he had to scramble to get his bearings.

The governor gongzi smiled. "My name is Chu Xun. May I ask for

yours?"

"M-my name is Mo. M-Mo Ran."

"From where does Mo-gongzi hail?"

"R-really far away. F-from, uh, Sichuan." Chu Xun-gongzi was gentle

and amiable, but Mo Ran couldn't shake the feeling that the man could see

right through him.

"That is indeed quite far away," Chu Xun agreed with a smile. Then he

paused, his gaze shifting down toward Chu Wanning, and surprise crossed his

refined features. "And this is?"

"My name is Xia Sini." Chu Wanning supplied.

Mo Ran pulled him closer and patted him on the head, forcing a smile.

"This is my little brother," he said, as he thought, He doesn't look like me,

but he sure looks like you.

Maybe it was because battle was imminent and there were more

pressing matters at hand, and therefore Chu Xun didn't have time to dwell on

it. Or maybe it was because he was merely part of an illusion and didn't have

the ability to really react to something that didn't originally belong in this

fabricated realm. Whatever the case, he stared at Chu Wanning for a while,

his brows scrunched together, then simply handed them each a talisman.

"These are difficult times, and you are our guests from afar, so please

accept these talismans. If you have no other plans, then please, stay for a

couple of days."

"I've heard that gongzi intends to bring the people of the city to Putuo,"

said Mo Ran. "What're the talismans for?"

"These are spirit-quenching talismans," Chu Xun explained. "When

worn on the body, they can conceal the aura of the living."

Mo Ran understood at once. "Ah, I get it. If the aura of a living being

is sealed, then any ghosts they meet won't be able to tell them apart from the

dead. That way, even if we walk right past some ghosts, they'll be too

confused to do anything."

Chu Xun smiled. "Precisely."

Understanding that Chu Xun-gongzi was quite busy, Mo Ran didn't

want to take up more of his time with questions, so he thanked the man and

pulled his little shidi along to the side.

The two of them found a spot by a wall to sit down. Mo Ran turned

toward Chu Wanning to see the boy staring in a daze at the talisman. "What

are you thinking about?" he asked.

"I was thinking that this is a solid plan," Chu Wanning murmured, still

deep in thought. "But in that case, just what happened to prevent them from

escaping in the end?"

"Is it not in the records?"

"This two-hundred-year-old disaster is covered in the most detail in

The Lin'an Records, but even that book only spares a few lines of text to

describe it."

"What does it say?"

"Lin'an was besieged, the situation therein unknown. By the time the

resistance army broke through, corpses lay strewn across the roads, and the

vast majority of houses were empty. Of the approximately one hundred

people of the governor's residence and the seven hundred and forty common

folk, none survived."

After a long moment of silence, Mo Ran said, "Nothing about how they

died?"

"Nothing. Lin'an City was completely surrounded, and hardly anyone

made it. The feathered tribe saved a lucky few later on, but they rarely

involve themselves in mortal affairs, so they see things differently from how

we do. As far as they're concerned, the truth of what happened isn't all that

important, and even if they knew, they still wouldn't talk about it unless there

was some particular need to do so." Chu Wanning paused. "But, since these

people are setting off in two days, we'll learn what happened soon enough.

In the meantime, we might as well walk around and see if we can find some

clues."

The two of them tucked away their spirit-quenching talismans for

safekeeping and were just getting up to leave when there was a flurry of

footsteps, followed by a tug on Chu Wanning's sleeve.

"Xiao-gege."

Chu Wanning turned around. It was the little gongzi who looked just

like him.

"Xiao-gege," the boy said in a small, childish voice, "Papa said you

two don't have anywhere to stay, so if you don't mind, you can stay with us

tonight."

"Um…"

Chu Wanning and Mo Ran looked at each other.

"Is that really okay?" Mo Ran asked. "Your papa is already so busy."

"It's okay." The little fellow grinned guilelessly. "Lots of people with

nowhere to go are staying with us already. We're all living together. Papa

keeps the ghosts away at night, so we don't have to be scared." He spoke

with little pauses, not yet used to linking so many words together, but his

open sincerity was heartwarming.

"Okay, we'll be imposing on you tonight, then," said Mo Ran. "Thank

you, Xiao-didi."

"Heh heh. No worries, no worries."

Watching him bounce away, Mo Ran tugged on Chu Wanning's hand.

"Hey, really, I gotta say something."

"I know what you want to say, so shut it."

"Ha ha ha, read my mind again?" Mo Ran ruffled his hair, grinning.

"Once we get back to Sisheng Peak, I really gotta ask Shizun about this.

Between the two of you, one looks like the dad and the other looks like the

son—there's no way you guys aren't related to Governor Chu."

After a moment, Chu Wanning said, "So what? Even if we do turn out

to be related, what then?"

"Eh?"

Chu Wanning looked mildly toward the father and son beneath the tree.

"It's all in the past anyway," he said expressionlessly. "They're already

dead."

Then he turned and walked away.

Mo Ran stood rooted in place for a while before running after him.

"Oi, aren't you a little too young to be so cynical?" he muttered. "Even if

they're dead, they're still your ancestors. If I were you, I'd definitely erect a

shrine for them—with a statue, nine feet tall, all gold, decked out in jewelry

—and burn incense for them every year. I'm counting on my ancestors for

protection, you know… Hey—hey, hey, why're you walking so fast?!"

While wandering through the city, they noticed that every family was

gathering straw and making straw men. When they inquired about the

practice, they were told Chu Xun-gongzi had asked the citizens to do it:

everyone in the city, young and old alike, had to have a matching straw man

in which to insert a talisman with a drop of that person's blood. These would

substitute for them as "decoy puppets."

It was the same basic idea as tossing a bunch of meat-stuffed mantou

into a river as offerings to a river deity that demanded human heads. Some

ghosts and deities were simply, fundamentally, not that smart. Any little trick

could fool them, like that ghost mistress from Butterfly Town who'd had

nothing but mud rattling around between its ears.

It seemed that Chu Xun had arranged at least two layers of precautions

for his citizens. The first was the spirit-quenching talismans, so that they

wouldn't be discovered by ghosts while running away. The second was these

straw puppets, which would act as decoys to buy some time for their escape,

so that the ghosts wouldn't immediately notice everyone in the city had

vanished and become infuriated.

This only made the haze in Mo Ran and Chu Wanning's hearts heavier.

How had such a carefully crafted plan end up falling through?

They returned to the governor's residence filled with misgivings. It

was dark by then, and many families had brought bedding to stay the night

within the Shangqing Barrier rather than returning to their homes.

The governor kept his gates open at night, with only a few guards

patrolling the premises. By the time Mo Ran and Chu Wanning arrived, all

the rooms of the residence were filled, with at least three or four families

huddled in each. People were crowded everywhere, with hardly any room

left to stand.

In the end, they could only find a corridor to rest in. There was no

bedding, of course, so Mo Ran padded the ground with some straw he had

requested from the guards, picked up Chu Wanning, and laid him on the

makeshift pallet. "You'll have to make do with this tonight."

"Looks comfortable enough," said Chu Wanning.

"Really?" Mo Ran laughed. "I thought so too."

He flopped down next to Chu Wanning and stretched, then folded his

arms behind his head and stared up at the wooden beams of the ceiling

above.

"Shidi, take a look. Those bird people aren't half bad at weaving

illusions, huh? They only have a survivor's memories to serve as foundation,

so it's really something that the illusion is so detailed. You can even see the

texture of the wood on the ceiling."

"The feathered tribe are half-immortal, after all," said Chu Wanning.

"Even if they're not omnipotent, they're capable of feats beyond mortal

ability."

"I guess so." Mo Ran blinked, then rolled to face Chu Wanning,

propping his head up. "I can't sleep."

Chu Wanning glanced toward him and stared. "What do you want, a

bedtime story?"

He was being sarcastic, but Mo Ran's face was as thick as the city

walls. "Yes, please!" he laughed. "I want the one about Dongyong and the

seven fairies."

Chu Wanning hadn't expected him to take the offer seriously and was

taken aback for a moment before turning away in a huff. "You wish. How old

are you? Aren't you embarrassed?"

Mo Ran grinned. "It's only human to want the things we can't have.

That's got nothing to do with age. I never had anyone to tell me bedtime

stories when I was small, and I always thought about how nice it would be to

have someone like that. But that someone never showed up, and then I grew

up and stopped thinking about it. Even so, deep inside, I still want it."

Chu Wanning was silent.

"You didn't have anyone to tell you bedtime stories either, did you?"

"Mm."

"Ha ha, so you don't actually know how the story of Dongyong and the

seven fairies goes, right?"

"What's the point in those silly stories, anyway?" Chu Wanning asked

after a long pause.

"Just admit you don't know it. Don't write it off as a silly story either,

or you're gonna grow up into a boring person like my shizun and everyone

will avoid you."

"Who cares if everyone avoids me?" Chu Wanning snapped. "I'm

going to sleep."

With that, he lay down and closed his eyes.

Mo Ran rolled around with laughter until he rolled over next to Chu

Wanning. When he gazed at his little shidi with his eyes closed, his eyelashes

long and dark, looking quite adorable, he reached out to pinch his cheek.

"Are you really asleep?"

"I'm really asleep."

Mo Ran laughed. "Then you keep sleeping and I'll tell you a bedtime

story."

"You know one?"

"Yep, just like you know how to sleep talk."

Chu Wanning shut up.

Mo Ran lay next to him on the straw bed, their heads mere inches

away. He cackled for a bit, but after a while—when he saw that his shidi

was pointedly ignoring him—he stopped being quite so boisterous and

instead gazed up at the ceiling, eyes still lit with mirth. Now and again, the

smell of the straw wafted over them, accompanied by the quiet sounds of

night.

"The story I'm about to tell you is one I made up myself. I envied those

who had bedtime stories when I was young, but there was nothing for it, so

every day I would tell stories to myself while lying in bed. I'll tell you my

favorite one now: it's called 'Ox Eats Grass.'"