On the second page of the Knife-Credit Ledger, the boiling ink congealed into inked characters that ranged themselves in line after line across the page:
“Knife-credit sale: one iron blade, never forged or quenched.
“Quality: extremely poor.
“Knife-credit recipient: Ding Ling.
“Notes of caution: Because the blade extended by the knife-credit man is of extremely low quality, the karmic connection between the knife-credit man and the retribution body will be comparatively loose, and there is a fairly high probability that the retribution body, ‘Ding Ling,’ will break free of the karmic connection to the knife-credit man.
“The quality of the extended blade will affect the retribution body's fortunes in life.
“Based on the influence of this ‘extremely poor’ blade, within ‘Ding Ling's’ future life there is a very small probability of encountering an ‘opportunity,’ and a very high probability of constantly encountering ‘dangerous straits.’
“The quality of the extended blade will affect the knife-credit man's ‘rubbing.’
“Based on the influence of extremely poor blade quality, when the knife-credit man makes a rubbing of a retribution body's ability, he can obtain only one tenth of that ability's effect, and every rubbing of a retribution body's ability increases the probability that the body will break free of the karmic connection to the knife-credit man.
“Once a retribution body breaks free of the karmic connection to the knife-credit man, the knife-credit man will lose that retribution body forever.”
Zhou Yang could read every one of the many characters that surfaced on the page.
But the meaning they conveyed was hazy to him, and he could not fully grasp it.
The several notes of caution the Knife-Credit Ledger had set out, in particular, mostly eluded him; he took them for nothing out of the ordinary.
Only the part about ‘rubbing abilities’ gave him a small thrill of excitement.
Trapped as he was in Guancun's present predicament, he valued the Knife-Credit Ledger mainly because of that gray ‘rubbing’ button in his own record. He had always guessed that ‘rubbing’ meant he could copy some ability another person possessed, the way one takes a rubbing of an inscription carved on a stone stele.
That guess had now been confirmed.
He could rub the abilities of those to whom he extended knife-credit.
Even if the present Ding Ling's ability was of no use to him, who knew how many stories this thick Knife-Credit Ledger would reveal in time, how many characters would appear?
Among them there would surely be outstanding figures whose abilities he could rub and make his own!
In the end he would gain from it the strength to escape Guancun!
And besides, Ding Ling, this retribution body, might not be useless either.
Her Daliang Village was right in the middle of a ghost affair.
Chang Dafeng, the troupe leader, seemed to have some way of dealing with ghosts.
The situation in Daliang Village might not apply to Zhou Yang's Guancun, but if he could learn a thing or two from it and get a clear picture of just what kind of world this was, that would be a good thing too.
The thoughts whirled pell-mell through Zhou Yang's head.
At some point a wave of overwhelming weariness washed over him, and he dropped straight into a deep sleep.
…
He did not know how much time had passed before he became dimly aware of faint, scattered sounds.
With every degree his mind cleared, those faint sounds grew a degree sharper.
They were the voices of several people talking.
Beyond his eyelids, a murky yellow light flickered and wavered.
Zhou Yang had not yet thought of opening his eyes; he simply lay there and listened to the men talking.
“Ugh… we really are out of luck, stuck in this village with nothing to eat, nothing to drink, and no pay—and that's not even the worst of it!
“The worst part is, everyone in this whole village now looks like they've run into a ghost!
“A few days ago the men and boys were all lively as could be, and now when you look at them there's no human smell to them anymore.
“If this keeps up, things are going to turn bad.
“We'd better hurry up and think of a way to run.
“Only, with Sister Ding in the state she's in, if we run—and try to bring her along—I doubt we could even manage to run.” One man's voice came out muffled and heavy.
Another man's voice seemed pinched in his throat, and there was a theatrical lilt to his speech: “She's had this chill seven or eight days now, and it still hasn't got any better.
“We took her along with the troupe to cook our two meals a day and do the odd jobs about the company!
“And what does she do? She's been here only a few months and goes and falls seriously ill, and now she's dragging all of us down.”
A third man, hoarse-voiced, said, “Ding Ling hasn't touched food or water for two or three days straight. Even a body made of iron couldn't hold up under a drain like that.
“The way I see it, she's like this oil lamp here—there isn't much oil left, and I doubt she'll last to next month.”
“If she dies, she'd better not die inside our troupe. What rotten luck that would be!” Disgust filled the theatrical voice. “There may well be a ghost loose in the village right now, and if she dies at a time like this, who knows what bigger mess it might stir up!
“And as for what's actually going on, Troupe Leader Chang won't say a word.
“Whether it's really a ghost or not, he ought to give us an answer!
“He's like a sealed gourd—seven or eight times a day he goes running all over the village looking at everything, and who knows what he's looking at…”
As the three men were speaking, a rather boyish voice suddenly called from somewhere off in the distance: “The troupe leader's back!”
The men who had been talking instantly fell into a fluster.
Footsteps, the rustle of clothing, laughter and greetings all burst up suddenly in Zhou Yang's mind like water coming to a boil!
He came fully awake—
Yet even then he did not open his eyes. He was turning over what the three men had said.
“The Knife-Credit Ledger said Ding Ling handles the food and the chores for the Dengtai Liyuan Troupe.
“‘He’ caught a chill and has been laid up for days on end, and it has never improved.
“That information has now been confirmed by those three men's words.
“Only—from the way those three talked, could this Ding Ling, my first retribution body, actually be a woman?”
As the thought crossed his mind, Zhou Yang was startled, and unconsciously bent his arm and felt over his chest—
The chest was fairly flat.
But it was a little rounded, too.
This was not a normal man's chest!
Zhou Yang panicked further, and his hand moved on down. No sooner had he touched that damp, utterly empty place than his arm curled up as if he had been shocked—but that was not his own reaction. It was the reaction of the other consciousness in the body he now occupied!
It was Ding Ling's reaction!
“Ding Ling really is a woman!” The thought circled endlessly in Zhou Yang's head, and along with the surprise came a touch of relief.
At least Ding Ling was not himself.
“Mm…”
Together with the curling of that arm, a thin, weak female voice sounded at Zhou Yang's ear.
Ding Ling slowly opened her eyes.
The blurry scene before her gradually came into focus.
Rafters webbed with cobwebs hid in the darkness, showing only their rough outlines.
Not far off, an oil lamp swayed, giving off a murky yellow glow.
On the wall to one side, the huge shadows of several people were thrown.
All of this fell together into Zhou Yang's and Ding Ling's eyes.
Two souls in one body were both dazed.
Ding Ling was still startled and uncertain whether the male voice that had appeared in her head moments before had been real or imagined.
And Zhou Yang was hesitating over how to begin his first exchange with this retribution body of his.
Chapter 4