Zhou Yang returned to his room, his mind heavy with doubt.
New chains, old chains, bells… On the surface, these seemed like ordinary tools used only on dogs.
Yet judging from Zhou Laogou's words and the reactions of Zhou Heigou and Huang Shaodiao, they were hardly the mundane implements Zhou Yang understood to be for leashing canines.
Even Afu's blacksmith shop needed a bell provided by the Zhou family before Afu could forge a new chain for Zhou Yang.
And that chain wouldn't even be fit to leash a fang puppy from the Dog King's household.
Afu surely knew the true significance of these dog chains, but he wouldn't necessarily tell Zhou Yang the truth.
Even though he had taught Zhou Yang Ghost Breath, there was no friendship between them; in fact, Zhou Yang had to remain constantly on guard against Afu turning on him.
Zhou Yang would have to bide his time and probe obliquely to see if he could glean any word about the chains from Afu.
Pondering this, Zhou Yang dropped to his stomach beside the bed and pulled the old drawer box out from underneath.
Inside lay bundles of stacked paper money. He had burned some of it the last time he practiced Ghost Breath, leaving two jin and three liang in the drawer.
He set aside the greater part of today's wages and stacked it inside, bringing the total to two jin and five liang.
Now that he had formally begun forging iron at the blacksmith shop, he earned three liang of paper money a day.
Twelve days remained until the Opening Rite. At his current daily earnings combined with his savings, he would have six jin and one liang by that day, just enough to purchase thirty and a half jin of grease.
Afu had previously estimated that someone of his build needed exactly thirty jin of grease.
Viewed this way, so long as he worked his shifts as expected each day, he would naturally have accumulated enough paper money by the time of the rite.
Yet the matter could not be calculated so simply.
Every session of Ghost Breath consumed one liang of paper money.
He might well need to buy other goods in the days ahead, requiring another reserve of paper money.
With that rough calculation, relying solely on his current wage to meet his living needs would leave him stretched thin.
Not knowing where else he could obtain more paper money for the moment, Zhou Yang made a mental note of it. He shifted the clay stove into a corner, crumpled open a liang of paper money, tossed it into the furnace, and lit it. Then, with a thought, he activated Ghost Breath.
"Ooo-aaaah…"
Pitch-black antholes opened one after another across his scalp, face, arms, and all over his body!
The wailing of ghosts drifted from the ghost mouths covering him!
Pouring all seven wisps of Right Thought into Ghost Breath, he caused ghost mouths to sprout across his entire form. An explosive surge of strength welled from within him. Wisps of pale smoke rose from the paper money burning in the corner and plunged straight into every single mouth.
Most of the paper money was swallowed and consumed by the ghost mouths; a small portion remained in Zhou Yang's body, turning into wisps of cool, shadowy vapor that soaked into his limbs and bones.
Seven wisps of Right Thought were enough for him to lock down ninety percent of the ghost mouths across his body. Only three areas—inside his oral cavity, on the soles of his feet, and in the ring around his navel—dared he not attempt to open. His Right Thought was stretched to its limit and could not hold them shut.
As these thoughts crossed his mind, Zhou Yang willed most of the ghost mouths across his body to close.
He brought out the Knife-Credit Ledger and turned to the first page to inspect his personal profile:
Name: Zhou Yang.
Right Thought: 7.
Identity: Knife-Credit Man.
Abilities: Blacksmithing, Ghost Breath - Right Thought Lock (Eighth Layer)… (Rubbing).
Good Deeds: Eight.
Seven wisps of Right Thought had pushed his Ghost Breath straight to the eighth layer, bordering on perfection.
"Each wisp of Right Thought marks a new step, and the higher it goes, the harder it is to advance. That seven wisps raised the Right Thought Lock to the eighth layer is hardly a surprise." Zhou Yang casually turned to the second page of the ledger, looking over the profile of Ding Ling displayed there.
"Putting all my Right Thought into Ghost Breath brought me to my current state.
"What would I gain if I rub Ding Ling's Ghost Breath?
"Will it open the ghost mouths around my navel, inside my mouth, and on the soles of my feet early, and let me lock them with my current count of Right Thought?
"Or will it be something else?"
Zhou Yang focused his gaze on the Ghost Breath entry in Ding Ling's ability column.
Ding Ling's Right Thought Lock had also reached the fourth layer.
As Zhou Yang focused his attention, the words for Ghost Breath swiftly collapsed into clumps of ink, writhing before his eyes to form new script:
"Rub the ability 'Ghost Breath' from retribution body 'Ding Ling'?
"Given the extremely poor quality of the credited blade, one Good Deed can only rub one-tenth of the retribution body's inherent ability.
"Increasing the investment of Good Deeds will rub more of the retribution body's inherent ability."
The eight Good Deeds Zhou Yang had accumulated were not even enough to rub Ding Ling's Ghost Breath ability in its entirety.
He had other uses for those eight Good Deeds and could not spend them all on rubbing Ghost Breath.
With that, Zhou Yang formed a thought: "Invest three Good Deeds to rub the retribution body's ability, 'Ghost Breath'."
"Retribution is born, cause and effect arise.
"Forge karma without regret?"
The columns of ink characters trembled violently, transforming into ten blood-red words splayed across Zhou Yang's vision, making his heart quiver with them!
His pupils shrank slightly, and after a moment's contemplation, he answered, "Forge karma without regret!"
The instant the thought fell, the words for Ghost Breath in Ding Ling's ability column on the ledger's second page suddenly warped into pitch-black ghost mouths. They tore open in rapid succession, as if ripping straight through the paper!
Ghostly wailing erupted on all sides!
Amidst the cries, a faint, elusive strain of operatic singing drifted in, broken and halting, eluding Zhou Yang's full grasp:
"…My wife… riding a white horse…"
He had barely made out those few words when the singing was entirely drowned out by the ghost cries. Even the words he had just recognized blurred, drifting like flotsam through his memory, tantalizingly close yet just beyond reach.
Before Zhou Yang could grasp what was happening, the bizarre anomalies displayed upon the Knife-Credit Ledger vanished completely.
Holding the ledger, he lifted his eyes—and abruptly noticed a distinct human silhouette standing right in front of him!
The silhouette shared his exact build.
Zhou Yang recognized it in an instant!
Back when he had first broken Afu's control and used sheer willpower to close the ghost mouths across his body, he had sensed this very figure. But at that time it had been faint and indistinct, and had never appeared again, leaving him to assume it was a hallucination that could not be pursued.
Now, however, the silhouette was exceptionally clear.
Standing before Zhou Yang, blood-red ghost mouths suddenly opened all over its form!
Those mouths exhaled crimson ghost breath. Guided by the rhythm of their breathing, the currents linked and shifted in sequence, coalescing into the imprint of a palm!
The palm print expanded outward, and the shifting ghost breath within linked into another palm print, which continued expanding outward. Layer after layer of handprints expanded endlessly like concentric rings, and at the core of these multiple impressions stood the silhouette itself!
"This is…"
Watching the layers of handprints expanding outward from the silhouette, Zhou Yang felt a glimmer of comprehension.
A thin paper screen stood before his understanding; with a slight push, he pierced right through it. The ghost mouths across his body tore open once more, each exhaling invisible ghost breath. Guided by the approaching silhouette as it drew closer and aligned with him, the currents linked and alternated…
Until the silhouette merged completely into Zhou Yang, every ghost mouth on its form perfectly aligning with the open mouths across his flesh—
A palm print slowly unfurled around Zhou Yang's body…
"These are… ripples."
Chapter 49