Stepping into the Game

"Is there anything else?" Ding Songyan asked of his own accord. Yan Changqing pondered for a moment. "Between late You and early Xu, take a stroll around the mass burial ground. You need not linger long." *Leaving the city...* Ding Songyan's first thought was whether that might be a bit dangerous. But on second thought, he was already surrounded by perils anyway, so a little more hardly mattered. Perhaps it might even introduce some new variables into the mix. Besides, he was no longer someone without the strength to truss a goose; so long as an encounter did not exceed two blows, he could pass as half an expert. Since he could not escape his dire straits either way, he might as well look on the bright side: Riches and fortune are sought in danger! He agreed at once, and Yan Changqing brought their exchange to a close. Once Ding Songyan advanced the story to Madame White Snake being forever suppressed under Leifeng Pagoda, he concluded his storytelling for the day and departed Zhen Manor. He did not head straight to Duokang Temple to offer incense. Instead, as was his custom, he strolled through the market outside, listening to other storytellers recount lore of the martial world and anecdotes of the jianghu. After a long while, he spotted Li Wu patrolling past with a band of constables. His mind stirred. Stepping closer, Ding Songyan lowered his voice. "Brother Li, someone seems to have been stalking me recently." "How did you find that out?" That was the question puzzling Li Wu more. Ding Songyan had already prepared his excuse and said with an air of relief, "I made the acquaintance of Young Hero Ren Youyang of the Zhenling Sect. Possessing the spirit of an ancient knight-errant, he made a point of warning me about it." "Ren Youyang?" Li Wu glanced at Ding Songyan with considerable surprise. He had not expected Ding Erlang to possess such luck. Pondering for a few moments, he also lowered his voice to Ding Songyan. "We'll keep an eye out for you. You yourself are already a lead we value quite highly." Having achieved his aim, Ding Songyan thanked him repeatedly and returned to the booth of the storyteller he had just tipped two copper coins. His primary goal was not for the authorities to truly weed out the people from the Moth God Sect—though if they did, that would naturally be wonderful. What he really wanted was for the authorities to place him under covert surveillance so they would discover that Zhen Manor had also dispatched retained experts to shadow him, thus tainting Zhen Manor with suspicion in their eyes. Only by stepping onto the board himself could he drag everyone harboring ill intent into deep water, exposing them half into the light of day! Prompted by that conversation, Ding Songyan suddenly remembered something: Ren Youyang seemed to still be waiting for him at Cuiliu Brothel on Hongxiu Street to drink and make merry! And he had been waiting for an entire afternoon... *I was so rattled by the vermilion moth affair that I rushed home to verify it, and afterward I was busy reporting to Zhen Manor. I completely forgot about Brother Youyang...* Ding Songyan felt a pang of guilt, able only to hope that Ren Youyang, capable as he was, could shoulder the burden and drink Ding Songyan's share of the fine wine as well. After listening to a while longer of jianghu tales, he walked into Duokang Temple, with its yellow walls and brown tiles, reaching the front of the main hall for the first time. Enshrined within the hall stood an enormous pig-shaped divine statue, coated in green lacquer, with protruding tusks and prominent, flaring ears. Amidst its majestic might, it conveyed an air of magnanimity and gentle benevolence. The temple keeper here likewise had large, pig-like ears, a paunch protruding beneath his long robe, a thick, broad nose projecting slightly forward, and two teeth on either side that were conspicuously long and sharp. For a dazed moment, Ding Songyan felt as though he were looking at Bajie. But the temple keeper's face remained human, his nose was not quite that exaggerated, and his teeth differed as well. *An expert... To manifest multiple mutations, even if he isn't a grandmaster, he can't be far from one...* Composing himself, Ding Songyan spent three copper coins to buy three sticks of incense, lighting them against the flame of the incense burner. Within the gradually curling blue-gray smoke, Ding Songyan closed his eyes, emptied his thoughts, and prayed in earnest. As long as it could help his current predicament, he could believe in anything—and be utmost devout! Bowing three times, Ding Songyan inserted the three sticks into the censer, turned around, and left Duokang Temple. With his current sensory awareness, he had no way of knowing whether anyone had been spying on him during the process. Having finished that, Ding Songyan hurried over to Beili Ward; better late than never. Before he even entered Hongxiu Street, he saw Ren Youyang crouching by the roadside with his dog ears erect. Though clad in a feathered robe and a tall crown, he showed not the slightest regard for his dignity. *Why do I get the feeling he was born to crouch by the roadside...* Ding Songyan muttered under his breath as he approached. "Ding Erlang, you're finally here!" Ren Youyang sprang to his feet, not bothering to hide his grumbling. *He really was waiting for me this whole time... Does this count as keeping a promise worth a thousand pieces of gold?* Ding Songyan apologized immediately, then said to Ren Youyang, "Brother Youyang, I discovered something and hurried off to verify it, which made me completely forget about our meeting." Before Ren Youyang could speak, he leaned close to the dog ear and kept his voice low. "The person stalking me is suspected to be a 'moth person' from the Moth God Sect of Feng, controlled by a 'moth father' or 'moth mother.'" "How do you know?" Having barely any impression of the Moth God Sect, Ren Youyang was caught in startled bewilderment. His focus was thus diverted from the grievance and impatience of waiting for so long. "I went to Zhen Manor and heard someone mention it," Ding Songyan said, parceling out his words piece by piece for fear of "forgetting." It was the truth, but with the order of events reversed. "Zhen Manor..." Ren Youyang repeated the name. Ding Songyan seized the opportunity to repeat what he had told Miss Xiaoqing—about whether Zhen Manor had been stalling all along, whether they might be waiting for the right moment, and how what they wanted to trade for might not be silver at all. Ren Youyang took a breath. "This Zhen Manor is certainly acting suspicious." *Brother, you hit the nail on the head!* Ding Songyan said at once, "Even though I'm half a scion of Zhen Manor, I feel the exact same way." He preemptively distanced himself from them. "I need to head back and consult someone." Ren Youyang turned his gaze toward Ding Songyan. After a brief hesitation, he added somewhat sheepishly, "Before, I truly couldn't spot what was wrong with that stalker. The martial arts I practice aren't very suited for this sort of thing." "What divine art does Brother Youyang cultivate?" Ding Songyan asked casually, not expecting an answer. If the other man truly gave one, he could factor it in when devising plans or adapting to circumstances later. Ren Youyang fell abruptly silent. Just as Ding Songyan was preparing to say, *My apologies for prying; please don't trouble yourself, Brother Youyang,* the young man let out a long sigh. "The Useless Divine Art." "Uh..." Ding Songyan was momentarily dumbfounded. *What kind of terrible name is that? You can't tell what it's good at or what it isn't—it feels like it isn't good at anything! And it actually calls itself a 'divine art'!* Ren Youyang gave a self-deprecating grin. "You can't judge a book by its cover, and you can't judge martial arts by their names alone. I'm heading back now. Next time, I'll treat you to drinks with the ladies again." At this point, he added with lingering dread, "You didn't show up this afternoon, so your elder brother had to handle them all on my own. By the end, I could barely hold my ground." *Ah... A martial artist shouldn't be that frail, right?* Ding Songyan watched suspiciously as Ren Youyang walked off into the distance. *** Returning to Chengyu Lane for dinner, Ding Songyan waited until the second quarter of the You hour before making an excuse to look for Xu Chang'an, slipping out of the Ding family courtyard alone. He first found Xu Chang'an and reminded him to cover for his lie. Then, taking advantage of the late summer dusk, he slipped out of the nearest city gate and headed toward the mass burial ground. The entire path lay under the surveillance of the watchtowers. Among the passersby, some hurried along, while others strolled leisurely, as though just returning from an outing in the countryside. By the time Ding Songyan reached the mass burial ground, the sky had darkened considerably. Dense trees with luxuriant foliage cast deep shadows across the land, barring the distant evening sun, not yet dipped below the horizon, from shedding its light here. Walking among them, Ding Songyan occasionally felt the chilly touch of the evening breeze and spotted white bones scattered in the grass and beneath the shade of the trees. Yet he was not overly frightened. First, he had the qi bestowed by Yan Changqing to protect him; second, having already opened his yin eye and seen the sights of the Netherworld, he felt far less dread toward a mere mass burial ground. As he walked, Ding Songyan gritted his teeth and took the initiative to head into the rear mountain. He wanted to see whether stepping outside the watchtowers' surveillance would bait anything out. The rear mountain grew ever darker, drawing closer to nightfall. The howls of wild beasts rang out from time to time, accompanied by occasional faint whiffs of rot and decay. Suddenly, mist merging into the gloom appeared before Ding Songyan's eyes, along with spectral figures swaying forward. His yin eye had opened on its own. *Was it stimulated by the yin energy and death aura gathered in the rear mountain of the mass burial ground?* Ding Songyan speculated while looking around. Tree after tree and shallow grave after shallow grave were shrouded and separated by the mist, with solitary souls and wild ghosts wandering near some of them. One ghostly figure among them was rather peculiar: shadowy apparitions stretched out from its body, continually swapping places with it. Reining in his inevitable dread, Ding Songyan stepped a little closer. As the distance narrowed, he heard that bizarre apparition, which seemed on the verge of dispersing into the void, muttering blankly and hollowly: "Cornered me nine times... "Killed me nine times..." *What is it talking about? Do you even have that many lives to be killed? Nine times...* Ding Songyan racked his brains recalling the contents of The Esoteric Classic of Mountains and Seas, finally finding an entry that roughly fit: "Heluo fish: eating it grants ten lives and a hundred hands, and wards off misfortune." "One head and ten bodies; its sound is like a dog, and it can also heal carbuncles." *Ten lives is close enough to nine... Did it already lose one before?* Relying on his qi for protection, Ding Songyan asked the peculiar ghost with keen interest, "Who killed you?" The ghostly silhouette merely repeated its previous muttering, ignoring Ding Songyan entirely and making no move to harm him. Ding Songyan pondered for a moment. Taking advantage of his active yin eye, he transferred the clear, misty "seed" from his sea of consciousness to his throat. *Perhaps this needs to be activated with it, just like before.* Ding Songyan opened his mouth once more, his voice tinged with a cold, ethereal quality. "Who killed you?" The ghost answered blankly, "The Sect Master..." "Which sect are you from?" Ding Songyan blurted out in astonishment. The strange ghost gave no answer, reverting to its earlier murmurs. Ding Songyan switched questions, but gained no further information. He could not help suspecting that this ghost had died too long ago. Relying on having been a moderately accomplished expert in life and clinging to intense obsession, a remnant soul had survived to this day, but with only this shred of memory left. Thinking of this, and of the mass burial ground's location, Ding Songyan was struck by several thoughts: The previous owner of this body had died in the ruined shrine on the way to the mass burial ground, almost exactly seven days and an hour or two ago. There was the saying about the soul returning on the seventh day... And night was rapidly approaching... If he went to that ruined shrine or returned home to open his yin eye, might he be able to see his predecessor's ghost and exchange a few words with him? If he could learn what the former host truly went through, and who had killed him, many mysteries would be solved, and his enemies clearly identified... Ding Songyan narrowed his eyes slightly, turned around swiftly, and headed toward the ruined shrine that lay between the mass burial ground and the city gate.