Conception!

Translated by XephiZ

Edited by Aelryinth

The owner smiled. He did not seem to be infuriated, as he was amused instead. A man's aura and temperament were sometimes more credible than his words.

With a long and continuous crisp sound, like a snake casting off its skin, the man started peeling off his skin. He started to shrink at the same time too, like a deflating balloon.

Zhou Ze finally understood why the noodles were so overcooked. The transformation did take quite some time.

The man was still wearing the same clothes and the same apron, but his face was that of a young man.

The young man let out a seductive smile. The curves at the outer corner of his eyes would tickle the hearts of the people around him. 

It was quite inappropriate to describe a man's smile as seductive, but some men indeed had their unique charm. It was the reason why some emperors in the past were homosexual, as some men were indeed more feminine than women.

"Am I pretty?" the young man asked Zhou Ze.

Zhou Ze felt the disgust that he tried too hard to suppress after eating the noodles rising again. He apologetically waved his hand and grabbed his chest, like he was trying hard not to vomit.

Each grain from the plate was a result of hard labor!

Zhou Ze had always treated food preciously, especially now, as he was trying to digest the food that he had put in so much effort just to swallow.

The young man sat on a chair, playing with the lighter in his hand.

He was watching Zhou Ze, the man who had seen through his disguise. He had always thought his disguise was perfect, and it would not go wrong in the little restaurant.

Most importantly, he was imitating his parents.

He had been watching his parents since he was young, he remembered every action they did, every expression they made.

"How did you know?" the young man could not wait any further.

"You're not a ghost?" Zhou Ze asked at the same time.

The young man frowned. He thought Zhou Ze was being sarcastic, saying that he was trying to fool a ghost.

The truth was, Zhou Ze did assume the man was a ghost in the first place.

Zhou Ze was not trying to be a busybody. Not long ago, he was worried about having enough money to buy himself a freezer. He did not have time to spare on someone else's business.

Unfortunately, he had no choice but to mind it this time, as it had happened in the restaurant right opposite his bookstore. Zhou Ze believed it was necessary to spill the beans. If he could not find a solution, he would consider moving to some other place.

"Your fingernails," Zhou Ze said. "I'm particularly sensitive to fingernails."

The old woman had placed the bowl of noodles in front of him. The owner gave him a cigarette. They had both shown their fingernails to him.

Although the size and tone of the fingers were different, the lines on the fingernails were the same.

Zhou Ze had recently been paying more attention to fingernails; not just his, but other people's too.

The young man squinted in frustration. He had forgotten about the little details. Even though he was being careless, he had indeed slipped up and been busted.

"You're really not a ghost?" Zhou Ze asked.

It was even more bizarre if he was actually a human, but then again, Zhou Ze had not seen many ghosts. Leaving his experience in Hell aside, he could count the number of ghosts he had seen in the world of humans with a hand.

"Painting skin, a skill that my family has passed down for generations," the young man stood up. He grabbed Zhou Ze's hand and placed it around his chest, "However, it stopped for many years, before I finally picked it up again."

It was a strange action, but Zhou Ze subconsciously tightened his grip still. He did not believe that he was starting to develop an interest in men just because Doctor Lin was unwilling to sleep with him in the same bed, even though he could not deny that the man before him was more seductive than women.

"No bones?" Zhou Ze was surprised, "No, it's chondropathy."

It was more commonly known as rickets, a skeletal disorder caused by a lack of calcium. A person with rickets would have weak and soft bones, and in severe cases, skeletal deformities. Zhou Ze was once a doctor, hence he knew what it was. However, similar to a fever that would be caused by different reasons, they were different kinds of rickets, too. The young man in front of him was an extreme case.

Some unofficial records during the Spring and Autumn period stated that the country Lu once had a prince that suffered from the same disorder. It was like the man with delicate looks had no bones. He was able to walk like a human and crawl like a snake. 

"You can think of it as a genetic disease in my family, but it doesn't happen very often. Many generations of my family were not able to practice it because they didn't suffer from rickets, but I..."

The man smiled, and did not finish the sentence.

"So you're really not a ghost?" Zhou Ze asked again.

"I am Xu Qinglang," the young man answered seriously.

"Who were you imitating?" Zhou Ze asked.

"My parents."

Zhou Ze was stunned for a moment, then smiled wryly.

Such a misunderstanding.

He had waited for Doctor Lin to leave just so he could confront the man by provoking him. It turned out that the man was only role-playing to imitate his deceased parents. 

Zhou Ze assumed that the man was a ghost, like the kind in the film Painted Skin. It killed the humans, took their skins, and pretended to be them.

"Ugh… sorry about that." Zhou Ze felt sorry for joking about the young man's mother.

"I'm not angry," Xu Qinglang said, "I'm just curious. You keep asking if I'm a ghost, why is that?"

"Nothing."

"Have you seen a ghost before?" Xu Qinglang asked.

"I am a ghost myself," Zhou Ze looked at Xu Qinglang and said in a serious voice, with a serious look. He could not be more honest.

Xu Qinglong had a blank face, before he burst out laughing. He looked at Zhou Ze as if he was a retard.

Zhou Ze nodded. It always happened; you tried telling someone the truth, yet they wouldn't believe it, as they thought you were joking with them.

"Either way, I'm sorry about that. By the way, I'm curious; that human skin, is it real?" Zhou Ze asked.

"Fish skin," Xu Qinglang answered, "specially processed and drawn."

"Then why are you still selling noodles?" Zhou Ze was quite confused. "I heard the Hezhen people are making a fortune from selling clothes made of snake skin. They are treated like pieces of artwork. I bet yours is worth even more."

"I can't use something that has been passed down for generations to earn a profit."

"You must be very rich," Zhou Ze said.

"I recently moved," Xu Qinglang did not answer the question. "I now have over twenty properties."

"..." Zhou Ze took a deep breath. The world was unfair, as usual. He did not even earn much from his work as a doctor, and this guy already had more than twenty properties under his name.

Tongcheng was not Shanghai, but a square meter would still cost more than ten thousand. The man was a fuerdai, how jealous!

Zhou Ze shook his head, "Are you still going to sell noodles?"

"Are you still selling books?"

The two asked one another questions simultaneously again.

"For now," Zhou Ze replied.

"Likewise."

"Then, I'll see you around. By the way, do you still have other flavors for your plum juice?" Zhou Ze was curious, "Like bitter gourd or grapes?"

"I have the recipes, I can make them for you," Xu Qinglang said sincerely.

"Very well," Zhou Ze patted Xu Qinglang's shoulder.

Damn it, it was as soft as cotton. It really felt like the man had no bones. If he was to hug the man on a bed...

Zhou Ze immediately recalled the sight of Doctor Lin in her sleepwear after she had just showered to forcibly suppress his inharmonious imagination.

Zhou Ze walked out of the restaurant.

Xu Qinglang went into the kitchen. He flipped the curtain up and said to the skin of the woman hanging on the rack, "Mum, do you think he actually believed me?"

The skin swayed gently, as if it was trying to say that the man did not believe him, or maybe she was saying that she did not know.

------

Zhou Ze went back to the bookstore. He now had a freezer. All that was left was to modify the crappy bookstore that Xu Le had left for him. He had to stop the business from losing more money.

The sign on the bookstore was Xu Le's Bookstore, the crappiest name that anyone could possibly come up with.

The entire bookstore was basically saying that it was going to lose money under Xu Le's management.

Zhou Ze sat in front of the computer and tried to log into his previous QQ, but it failed. He could not verify his identity, either, meaning that he was unable to file a complaint.

------

Zhou Ze went out and hailed a cab. He was planning to change a sign or find a pair of couplets for the entrance.

He knew someone that had opened a shop selling signs. The owner was an old man, a specialist in carving wooden signs. The old man often donated to the orphanage, since Zhou Ze was still living there. After Zhou Ze started working, both he and the old man donated together. 

The shop was not far away. It was at the base of Langshan (Wolf Hill). The shops nearby were selling joss sticks. It was the only shop selling signs.

However, when Zhou Ze went inside, he saw the shop was doing a spring-cleaning. Even the sign was taken down.

A middle-aged man was ordering the workers around.

"You are?" the man asked when he saw Zhou Ze approaching.

"I'm looking for Old Zhao," Zhou Ze said. He was respectful to the old man.

"I'm sorry, my father passed away last month," the man replied.

"Passed away?" Zhou Ze was surprised, and grieving slightly. He was not close to Old Zhao. They were merely acquaintances with one another. It was reasonable that they did not invite him to the old man's funeral.

Besides, the old man's family might not have a good impression of the orphanage, since the old man kept donating the profits that the shop made to the orphanage. They did not even invite the orphanage to the funeral, as they were afraid that the orphanage would ask them to donate more.

"You have come to order a sign?" the middle-aged man asked.

"Yeah," Zhou Ze nodded.

"We aren't doing that anymore," the middle-aged man said apologetically, "We're going to sell joss sticks."

Langshan was one of the Ten Small Hills of Buddhism. Even if it did not have many tourists, the locals would still visit the temples during festivals, giving the shops at the base of the hill a business opportunity.

"That's a pity," Zhou Ze murmured. He was planning to visit the old man's grave.

"I still have a few signs that my father made, but he couldn't sell them. I'm not sure why he made them, since no one placed an order for them. If any of them caught your attention, I can sell them to you at a cheaper price," the man said.

"Sure, I'll take a look," Zhou Ze agreed.

He followed the middle-aged man to the back of the shop. The man unlocked a storeroom and turned on the light.

Inside the room was some junk, including the tools that Old Zhao used for his work. They were piled up in a mess, a clear indication that his descendants were not interested in inheriting his business.

Most shops had LED signs nowadays. Who would even want a wooden sign? It was hard work that would not earn much.

The man blew at a few signs placed on the ground and said, "Check them out, I'm willing to sell them for two hundred yuan. You can take them right away, or forget it if you aren't interested in any of them."

It was obvious that the man did not have high hopes for selling the signs.

Zhou Ze went closer. The first sign wrote, Life and death are predestined, and wealth is from the heavens.

Zhou Ze shook his head. The man sighed, knowing the sign was eliminated.

The next sign wrote, Humans know how scary ghosts are, and ghosts know how malicious humans can be.

Zhou Ze was startled. He was quite sensitive to that.

The middle-aged man did not sigh this time. He already knew the sign was a no-go. Who the heck would even hang a sign like that on their door?

The third sign wrote, Listen to what I have to say, and choose to believe or not yourself.

Zhou Ze smiled. The man smiled after seeing the smile on Zhou Ze's face. He finally found the sign he was looking for.