Chapter 19: This Venerable One Will Tell You a Story

The girl had a charming oval face with fair skin, pleasant features, and large, round eyes. She wore a light-pink ruqun with her hair bound up, and her bearing was that of a new wife, innocent and inexperienced. She dazedly rubbed her eyes and peered around at the darkness surrounding her.

"Where…am I?"

"You are within the Restoration Barrier I have erected," Chu Wanning replied.

The girl was shocked. "Who are you?" she asked, bewildered. "Why is it pitch-black in here? I can't see you. Who's speaking?"

"Have you forgotten? You're already dead," Chu Wanning said.

The girl's eyes widened. "I'm already… I…"

Gradually, her memories came back to her. She lowered her head and pressed her hands to her chest. There was no heartbeat there. She let out a soft sound of understanding and murmured, "I'm… I'm already dead…"

"Only souls can come into this Restoration Barrier. In here, all hatred is erased. Those who have passed, regardless of whether they've transformed into a menacing ghost or a regular spirit, will regain the character and appearance they possessed in life. Hence, 'Restoration.'"

Stunned, the girl was lost in thought for a moment, as if she was gradually recalling her past life. Then she abruptly lowered her face and started weeping silently.

"Do you…have any grievances?" Chu Wanning asked.

The girl's voice was thick with tears. "Are you Lord Yanluo? Or are you Bai Wuchang?15 Are you here to bring me justice?"

Chu Wanning rested a hand on his temple. "I'm not Lord Yanluo, and neither am I Bai Wuchang."

The girl wept softly.

Chu Wanning remained silent for a while and didn't speak, waiting until she had composed herself somewhat before he spoke again. "However, I am certainly here to bring you justice."

At this, the girl looked up. Though her voice was choked with sobs, she exclaimed in both joy and grief, "So you are Lord Yanluo after all!"

Chu Wanning decided not to clarify that assumption and instead asked, "Do you know what you've been doing since you died?"

"I don't know… It's not clear. I only remember I was very, very sad. I wanted revenge… I wanted to go after them… And I wanted to find him…"

When souls were first brought back, for a time they would be unable to recall a number of things, but that was fine. Chu Wanning asked patiently, "Who did you want to find?"

"My husband," the girl replied softly. "Chen Bohuan."

Chu Wanning was taken back. Chen Bohuan—wasn't that the name of the eldest son of the Chen family? "What…is your name? Where are you from?"

Tianwen's power filled this world of illusion within the barrier, and the deceased who manifested inside of it would therefore converse with Chu Wanning truthfully and honestly. Thus, the girl responded, "My name is Luo Xianxian. I'm from Butterfly Town."

"Before I came here, I reviewed the ancestry scroll of Butterfly Town. This town only has about five hundred households, none of which are named Luo. Who was your father?"

The girl took her time to recall the details, and the anguish in her eyes grew more acute. "My father used to be a scholar here, a close friend to my father-in-law. Several years ago, he contracted tuberculosis and passed away. After that, I was the only one in the household."

"How did you die?"

The girl was taken aback, then wept harder. "I had no path other than death. They—they deceived my papa and made him leave behind his secret formula for the fragrance. They also beat me and yelled at me, threatened me, made me leave Butterfly Town. I…I was just a weak woman, where else could I have gone? I have no other relatives left in this world… The world is so big, but where could I have gone? Other than the underworld, where else could I go…?"

Once the memories of her past life had returned to her, her heart seemed to brim with endless suffering and anguish, making her anxious to tell someone of it. Even though Chu Wanning didn't prompt her further, she slowly continued to speak on her own.

It turned out that this Luo Xianxian had lost her mother when she was very young, and according to her father, she also had an elder brother. However, her brother had gone missing during some turmoil in the lower cultivation realm, and they'd never seen him again. Neither did they know if he was alive or dead. She hadn't yet reached her first year of life when her brother went missing—she had still been wrapped in swaddling clothes. Later, when she tried to remember this elder brother of hers, she'd had no impression to speak of.

Thus the Luo household consisted of only Xianxian and her father, and the two depended on each other to survive. They drifted everywhere before finally settling in a small house in Butterfly Town.

Luo Xianxian was five that year. The eldest son of the house of Chen, Chen Bohuan, was older than her by two years.

At the time, the house of Chen hadn't yet struck it rich. The entire family lived squeezed together into a small earthen cottage with two rooms, and next to the low wall in the small yard there grew a tangerine tree. When autumn came along, the tree bore fruits, and the dense branches growing past the low wall peeked into the yard of the Luo family's house.

Luo Xianxian would raise her head to look up at the branches dangling with tangerines, like the lanterns lit for the Lantern Festival. She was an introverted child and didn't play with others. Instead she would sit quietly upon her little folding bench, peeling soybeans while sneaking glances at the tangerines peeking overhead from the Chen family's yard.

The tangerines were vibrant and enticing; against the sun, it was easy to imagine them full to bursting with juice tart and sweet. Luo Xianxian would stare at them fixedly, swallowing hard from time to time, her cheeks aching with hunger.

Even so, she never once extended her hand to pick them. Her father was a mediocre and ineffectual scholar who had failed the civil exams; however, he hadn't failed in the upkeep of his dignity and integrity. In fact, the soured scholar was probably a bit broken in the head; he was constantly telling his daughter to be a "gentleman."

By the age of three, Luo Xianxian already knew that morality ought not be corrupted by wealth, and integrity ought not be compromised by poverty. She might have looked, but her hands never came within an inch of those tangerines so close within reach.

One night, taking advantage of the moonlight, Luo Xianxian sat in the yard to wash clothes, huffing and puffing as she worked. Her father's health wasn't great, and he'd long since gone to bed. Impoverished children learned to take care of their households early, and so the little girl had her sleeves rolled up, her thin little arms soaked in the wooden bucket, her cheeks puffed as she scrubbed with vigor.

Suddenly, a rasping cough came from the front door, and a young man covered in blood stumbled in to glare at her. The little girl was petrified, so much so that she even forgot to scream.

The young man's face was caked in blood and grime, yet his brows were strong and handsome. The two of them eyed each other, one big and one small, frozen in their places. Finally, the young man couldn't hang on anymore, and he slowly slid down a wall and into a sitting position. His breathing was laborious as he croaked, "Give me some water."

Maybe it was because the young man didn't have the look of a villain, or perhaps it was Luo Xianxian's own kindness, but although she was afraid, she ran inside and filled a cup, then brought it to the young man's lips.

The young man didn't hold back either and gulped down the water soundly. When he finished, he wiped at the corners of his mouth, and his eyes lifted to stare at Luo Xianxian's charming face. His gaze was a little intense, but he didn't say a word.

As he didn't speak, Luo Xianxian didn't speak either. She only blinked at him anxiously, staying at a distance she deemed safe, holding her hands not too close and not too far away as she watched this stranger.

"You look a lot like someone I once knew." The young man's lips suddenly curled up, his eyes curving into crescents as he smiled coldly at her. With all that blood on his face to match his smile, he looked somewhat savage. "Especially the eyes, big and round. They just make people want to dig them out—poke them through with a finger and swallow them whole, one by one."

Such terrifyingly sinister words were so blandly and casually said, and there was even a little laugh to go with them. Luo Xianxian shivered even harder and covered her eyes without thinking.

"Heh, what a smart little girl," the young man said. "Keep covering your eyes like that; don't stare at me. Otherwise, I can't say what my hands will do."

He spoke in a northern dialect, with "r" at the end of some of his words.

Moonlight spilled into the yard. The young man was licking his cracked lips when he spotted the tangerine tree outside. For some reason, his eyes lit up. His pupils flickered for a moment before he jerked his chin toward the tree. "Little girl."

Luo Xianxian was silent.

"Pick a tangerine and peel it for me."

Luo Xianxian finally moved her lips to speak. Her voice was tiny and quivering, but she spoke without hesitation. "Da-gege, that fruit tree doesn't belong to my family. It's someone else's; I can't pick from it."

That young man was taken aback. As if reminded of something, his face slowly turned dark.

"If I say pick, then go pick. I want to eat tangerines, so go pick them for me right now!" The last bit was growled aggressively, spat out from between gritted teeth.

Luo Xianxian shook from fright, but she remained stubbornly where she was. The little girl had a soft personality, but her moral core was as unyieldingly rigid as her father's. "I won't."

The young man narrowed his eyes, snarling at her. "Stupid little girl! Do you know who you're talking to?!"

"If you want water, I—I'll pour you some. If you want food, there's some of that in our house too. But the tangerine tree doesn't belong to my family, so I can't pick from it. My dad says, 'To take without asking is to steal.' I'm a gentleman; morality ought not be corrupted by wealth, and integrity ought not be com—compromised by pottery…"

In her nervousness, she misspoke and said "pottery" instead of "poverty." This tiny little girl, face red and puffy, sputtered and stuttered out this passable imitation of her father's teachings. Somehow she got the words out, despite how, under the intent gaze of that young man, she was quaking so hard that her knees knocked against each other.

That young man was silent. If the situation had been any different, hearing, "to take without asking is to steal," "morality ought not be corrupted by wealth, and integrity ought not be compromised by poverty," and, "I'm a gentleman," from the mouth of a kid—and a little girl at that?! Pfft, he really wouldn't have been able to hold back his laughter.

But he couldn't laugh. Instead, a violent, soaring anger trampled through his chest like so many horses, stomping on his heart.

"I hate people like you the most, the so-called…" Holding onto the wall, he shakily rose to his feet, words squeezing out from between his lips. "Philanthropists, gentlemen, heroes—virtuous people."

Under the terrified gaze of Luo Xianxian, he painstakingly stumbled over to the tangerine tree on his injured feet. He raised his head, sniffing at the scent of tangerines with greedy yearning. Then a hateful crimson flashed within his eyes, and before Luo Xianxian knew what was happening, he'd climbed onto that tree and started violently shaking it, kicking it, knocking at it, and beating it.

Whole branches of tangerines were soundly shaken off the tree. They tumbled to the ground, rolling to the side. The smile of that young man was twisted as he yelled recklessly, "So much for, 'to take without asking is to steal'! So much for, 'morality ought not be corrupted by wealth!' So much for, 'strength is not to be exploited'!"

"Da-gege! What are you doing?! Please stop! Papa! Papa!"

Luo Xianxian hadn't wanted to call for her father. He was of weak constitution, a scholar with no strength in his body. Even if he came out, there wasn't much he would be able to do. But after all, she was a little girl. Having held on to this point, she was finally scared past her breaking point.

"The hell are you yelling for?! If your daddy comes out, I'll chop him down too!"

The little girl was terrified into silence, tears welling in her big, round eyes.

The Chen family next door had gone to visit relatives in the neighboring village, and so none of them were home. There was no one around to stop this lunatic.

The lunatic shook the tree until all the tangerines had fallen from it. Even then, his madness couldn't be sated, and he stomped heavily on the ground, crushing many of the fruits. Then, with a sudden aggression and using a burst of strength from who knew where, he leapt up and flipped into the Chen family's yard, found an axe, and chopped down the tree in a few strokes. After, he flipped back over and laughed heartily.

He laughed and laughed, until he abruptly stopped and squatted down, spacing out. He twisted his head over and beckoned Luo Xianxian over. "Little girl, come here."

Luo Xianxian didn't move. She stayed where she was, shuffling her little cloth shoes embroidered with yellow flowers.

The young man saw that she was hesitating and softened his tone, speaking with as much kindness as he could muster. "Come. I've got something nice for you."

"I…I don't want to… No, I'm not coming over…" Luo Xianxian mumbled.

But before she could finish speaking, the young man erupted in rage again. "If you don't come here right this instant, I'm gonna go into your house and chop your dad into minced meat!"

Luo Xianxian shuddered violently and finally, little by little, shuffled toward him.

The young man looked askance at her. "Hurry up. I don't have time to watch you wriggle around."

Luo Xianxian drew closer to him, head bowed. When she was still a few steps away, he flung out his hand and yanked her over. Luo Xianxian let out a squeal—or tried to, because before the sound could leave her mouth, it was shoved back inside by an object. The young man had stuffed a tangerine in her mouth, unpeeled and unwashed, covered in mud.

How could Luo Xianxian possibly eat a tangerine in just one bite? Yet the young man forcefully stuffed it in. The tangerine ripped as it was crushed against her, juice and mud smeared over half her face. The lunatic was cackling, squishing the fruit on her mouth, trying to shove it past her tightly shut lips.

"Aren't you a gentleman? Weren't you not going to steal? Then what are you eating right now, huh? What are you eating right now?!"

"No…I don't want it… Papa…Papa…" Luo Xianxian whimpered.

"Swallow it." The young man's eyes curved into slits, and he stuffed the last bit of fruit into Luo Xianxian's mouth. His eyes shone darkly, and his voice was chilling and cold. "Swallow the damn thing!"

The young man watched Luo Xianxian as she was forced to swallow the tangerine, sobs choking from her throat as she weakly cried for her father. He was quiet for a moment, then smiled. That smile was more terrifying than his prior savage expression.

He ruffled Luo Xianxian's hair, satisfied. "Why call for your papa?" he said warmly as he continued to squat there. "Shouldn't you call for your da-gege? Is the tangerine your gege gave you sweet? Is it good?"

Then he picked up another one from the ground. This time, he didn't try to force it into her mouth. Instead, he attentively peeled off the skin—even picking off the white fibers sticking to the flesh—before he wiped his hands, pulled out a piece, and brought it to Luo Xianxian's lips. He said with a chiding, gentle voice, "If you like it, then eat some more."

Luo Xianxian understood that she'd run into someone who was mentally disturbed. Left without any choice, she bowed her head and wordlessly munched on the tangerine that the lunatic passed to her. Its sweetly tart juice diffused in her throat, making her stomach turn over.

The young man continued to squat there, feeding her tangerines piece by piece. He seemed to be in a good mood again, and he even hummed a tune. His voice was rough and coarse, like a damaged basket with a breeze blowing through its holes, fuzzy and unclear, but some of the words floated into Luo Xianxian's ears.

Three, four drops of petals upon the pond,

One, two cries of strings rang from ashore

Youthful years before crowing be the best of years,

Hooves light, horses fast,

See the ends of the world…

"Little girl," he suddenly said.

Luo Xianxian did not respond.

"Tsk." He pressed his lips together and reached out to grab Luo Xianxian's little face with his hand. "Let me take a look at your eyes."

Luo Xianxian was shaking, but without any power to retaliate, she could only allow that young man to examine her eyes thoroughly, letting those bloody fingers rub over her brows inch by inch.

"Such a strong resemblance," he said.

Luo Xianxian whimpered as she shut her eyes, scared that this lunatic would pick out her eyes the way he had the fruits—on a whim.

But the young man didn't pick anything. He only said to her in a somber, chilling tone, "Didn't you teach me the saying, 'morality ought not be corrupted by wealth, and integrity ought not be compromised by poverty'? Da-gege has something to tell you too."

Luo Xianxian sobbed.

"Open your eyes."

Luo Xianxian's eyes were tightly shut.

That young man laughed in exasperation. "I won't dig your eyes out—now open them!" he said, voice hoarse. Then, "Do you think I won't be able to poke your eyes out even if you have them closed?!"

Luo Xianxian could do nothing but obey. She opened her big, round eyes. Her long, soft lashes quivered, and large beads of tears fell from them. The fearful and pitiful look on her face seemed to somehow please the mysterious young man. He loosened the hand that was squeezing her cheek. It hovered in the air for a moment, then tenderly patted her head.

He stared at her eyes intently, a trembling smile curling from the corner of his lips. His grin was seven parts twisted, two parts savage, and one part sorrowful. He said, "There was a man from Linyi whose heart died at twenty."

Then, done speaking, he turned around, and his figure slowly disappeared into the shadows.

The only indication that this person had ever been there, a person who appeared in the depths of night all covered in blood, was the mess left behind on the ground.