Li Zhuiyuan held up the black-covered book and waved it toward the fish pond.
Though he didn't know whether it could "see" him, he had to show his intent.
Right now, he had too many matters and tangled thoughts on his plate, and he had to work through them one by one.
"Brother Runsheng, come get the gear."
"Coming!"
Runsheng walked over, hoisted all the equipment onto his back, weighed it in his hands, and broke into a satisfied grin.
The formation flags were one thing, but this set of corpse-retrieving tools was his most cherished treasure. When he woke up this morning, he hadn't even dared let his mind wander toward it—the mere thought made his heart ache.
"Xiaoyuan, where did the others go?"
"They went home."
"And what about us?"
"We're going home too."
Back at the house, Li Zhuiyuan went straight up to the second floor and entered his room.
Stacks of books sat neatly arranged on the desk. From six of the sets—*Jianghu Zhiguai Lu*, *Zhengdao Fumo Lu*, *Detailed Exposition of Yin-Yang Physiognomy*, *Discourse on Fate Deduction*, the *Liu Clan Qi-Gazing Formula*, and the *Qin Clan Flood Dragon Contemplation Method*—Li Zhuiyuan pulled one volume each.
Finding the blank margins along the edges of the pages, he took a carving knife and sliced off a thumb-wide strip from each, yielding six strips in total.
After a brief hesitation, he flipped open the black-covered book he had just acquired and sliced off a strip from it as well.
He found a sheet of white paper, wrapped the seven strips inside in order, grabbed a black plastic bag, and dropped the gold ingot into it.
Carrying these items, he headed downstairs and walked over to the east room.
Liu Yumei had just finished bathing. She sat beside the tea table, dampness still clinging to her silver hair.
Seeing the boy arrive, she pointed toward the closed inner door. "Ah Li is bathing."
"Grandma Liu, I came to see you."
"Oh? Make some tea, then."
Li Zhuiyuan set his things down and began brewing tea.
"Xiaoyuan, this old grandma truly enjoys watching you brew tea."
"It's my honor."
Once both had raised their teacups and taken a sip, Li Zhuiyuan set his cup down and brought out the paper packet.
"Grandma Liu, I know you're an expert when it comes to paper and fabrics. I have some paper strips here. Could you take a look at them for me?"
Liu Yumei's greatest everyday passion was designing clothes for Ah Li. She was often seen sketching with a calligraphy brush. Though she only drew garments, the control in the details revealed a distinctive artistic charm, not the least bit inferior to the retired fine-arts professors living in the work-unit compound.
Barring any surprise, Auntie Liu's foundation in painting likely derived from her, and Ah Li's grounding in art was just as profound.
Such masters of ink and brush were almost always thoroughly knowledgeable about paper stock.
"Sure, let me see."
Li Zhuiyuan first took out two strips and laid them before Liu Yumei, cut from the *Detailed Exposition of Yin-Yang Physiognomy* and the *Discourse on Fate Deduction*.
Liu Yumei reached out, ran her fingers over both strips, and asked, "Do you want to know what materials and techniques were used, or do you want to know their era?"
"Their era."
"I see you know a thing or two about antiques yourself, boy. What, you can't tell the period of old books?"
"You're flattering me, Grandma. I've only read widely in the past; I don't really know the craft."
"True enough. In the antique trade, ancient texts are a rather niche branch."
Li Zhuiyuan waited quietly for her verdict.
"These two are from the Republic of China era."
"The Republic?"
"If I'm not mistaken, the characters written on them should be neat and compact, well-suited for record-keeping and filling out registries."
"You have sharp eyes."
Li Zhuiyuan brought out the strips from the *Qin Clan Flood Dragon Contemplation Method* and the *Liu Clan Qi-Gazing Formula* and laid them down.
There was no text on them, so he didn't have to worry about Liu Yumei recognizing which books they came from. Of course, even if he had cut out the characters along with them, she likely wouldn't have been able to make them out anyway.
With those two books, the further one read, the more cursive and unreadable the calligraphy became. Early on, Li Zhuiyuan could still guess the characters from context, but toward the back, it had felt almost like deciphering a set of unique symbols invented by the author after growing familiar with them.
Naturally, that unsightly script possessed its own profound essence. One could even say it was precisely because of that terrible handwriting that this pirated transcription was worth far more than the original.
Liu Yumei picked up the two strips, gently rubbing them between her fingers as she brought them to her nose to sniff. Setting them down, she said, "Ming or Qing."
"I see."
"If you brought parts with characters on them, boy, I could give you a narrower timeframe."
"Then should I go bring the books over right now?"
Liu Yumei shook her head. "No need."
Li Zhuiyuan smiled faintly, as though he had anticipated that answer all along.
Next, he laid down the three strips taken from *Jianghu Zhiguai Lu*, *Zhengdao Fumo Lu*, and the black-covered manual.
In truth, these three were the ones he had primarily wanted Liu Yumei to examine.
Li Zhuiyuan had been modest earlier; he could roughly deduce the eras of the first four books himself.
Yet he had never been able to pin down the date of Wei Zhengdao's books, tentatively assuming they dated to the Ming or Qing dynasties based solely on their physical quality and state of preservation.
Now, however, a problem arose. The entity in the fish pond was a person from the Six Dynasties period, dating back roughly fifteen hundred years.
The handwriting in the black-covered book it had given him was identical to Wei Zhengdao's.
Li Zhuiyuan could tell whether a manuscript had been penned by the author's own hand or copied by a later scribe intentionally mimicking the style.
That was because across *Jianghu Zhiguai Lu* and *Zhengdao Fumo Lu*, an unmistakable smugness, a feeling of immense self-satisfaction, bled through between the lines.
The black-covered manual carried the exact same air.
This meant that the three sets of Wei Zhengdao's writings in his possession were not later hand-copied editions, but original manuscripts.
Yet if the timeline was stretched back fifteen hundred years, the preservation of these originals was shockingly pristine.
At first, Liu Yumei merely cast a casual glance at the three strips. Then her expression froze. She snatched all three into her fist and demanded, "What kind of books did these come from?"
Li Zhuiyuan asked, "Do you really want me to answer that?"
"Never mind. Don't answer." Liu Yumei opened her fingers, letting the three strips drift back onto the table. Then, disregarding the heat, she picked up the teapot and poured scalding tea over her hands to wash them.
Curious, Li Zhuiyuan asked, "Grandma, what era is the paper from these three?"
"Heh. That isn't paper."
"Then it's..."
"Human skin."
Li Zhuiyuan blinked. "Human skin?"
"Have you ever heard of skin papermaking?"
"No."
"Of course you haven't. As long as someone is willing to pay the price, there are plenty of methods to ensure books endure over time. Using human skin as raw material is the most laborious, time-consuming, and unrewarding of them all. Only certain peculiar trades would ever write on human skin paper."
"I understand."
"You really understand? Then do you know which era these three strips of skin paper hail from?"
"After the Eastern Han, before the Sui and Tang?"
"I can give you the exact period."
"Please tell me."
"Southern Liang."
"Grandma, could you be more specific?"
"Emperor Wu of Liang, Xiao Yan, once had three thousand human skins fashioned into paper to transcribe Buddhist sutras in pursuit of worshiping the true Buddha.
"Before much of that batch could be used, Hou Jing rebelled, and the sheets leaked out of the imperial palace. They became known as Buddha skin paper.
"Your three books were written on that very Buddha skin paper."
"Making paper out of human skin? Wasn't he famously devout in his Buddhism?"
"What's so strange about that? When emperors worship Buddha or seek the Dao, it is never out of compassion or a desire to deliver all living beings. It's nothing more than begging for longevity so they can continue enjoying wealth and glory.
"Wasn't that Daoist-practicing emperor of the Ming Dynasty the exact same way?
"Emperors like that care nothing for the realm or for beauties; they care only for themselves, selfish to the bone.
"So how could they ever truly care about human life?"
"I've learned something today."
"If those books and that paper are well-preserved, they count as genuine antiquities. It seems your great-grandpa truly hid away quite a few fine treasures in his cellar."
"Did you know all along that Great-Grandpa had books in his cellar?"
"He mentioned it himself. During the Campaign to Destroy the Four Olds, several groups deposited things with him, saying someone would come to retrieve them later. But to this day, no one has ever come to collect them."
"Just who were the people who deposited them?"
"I've never even looked at those books, so how could I know who they were? Besides, my eyes have grown presbyopic; reading books doesn't suit me anymore."
"That's a pity. I think several of them are rather interesting."
"Once Ah Li recovers, you can read them aloud to this old grandma."
"They can't be read aloud. You'd still have to see them with your own eyes."
"Do you have anything else?"
"Yes." Li Zhuiyuan opened the black plastic bag, brought out the gold ingot, and placed it before Liu Yumei.
"You little rascal, did you run off to become a water monkey?"
"No, I wouldn't dare."
"This is funerary gold, meant for grave goods."
"It's real gold."
"What, do you want to trade it for cash with me?"
"Yes."
"Hehehe." Liu Yumei covered her mouth with a chuckle. "You little rascal, do you take my place for a pawnshop?"
"It's a fair transaction, nothing more attached."
The main issue was that the entity had only left behind a single gold ingot. This was the money meant for leasing the land and planting the peach trees. Handing it straight to his great-grandpa would be difficult to explain, and taking it out to exchange for cash would be troublesome.
After all, Great-Grandpa only needed to pay the village and sign the contract, whereas Li Zhuiyuan had far more angles to consider.
"Fine. How heavy is it?"
"I haven't weighed it."
Liu Yumei picked up the gold ingot, bounced it lightly in her palm, and asked, "Shall I convert it for you according to current gold prices?"
"Sounds good. But this is an intact ingot."
"Heh, you slick little devil. Grandma will add ten percent for you."
"Thank you, Grandma."
This was the advantage of exchanging it with Liu Yumei. If he took it to an outside shop, they would cut it open, ruining its collectible condition.
"Ah Ting."
"Coming!" Auntie Liu stepped out of the kitchen, leaned in, and listened to Liu Yumei's whispered instructions. She nodded. "All right, I'll head to the bank right away."
Liu Yumei looked at Li Zhuiyuan. "You'll have the money by evening."
"Thank you, Grandma."
"You still haven't clearly explained what happened last night."
"It's hard to explain clearly, but in the end, it was resolved."
"That's good, then." Liu Yumei leaned slightly sideways, observing the boy. "Your complexion doesn't look great."
"Perhaps I didn't rest well."
"No, it looks more like you slept too much. Mind yourself; sleeping too much isn't good for a person either. It's easy to get muddled and lose track of what's real and what's a dream."
Just then, the door to the east room opened, and Ah Li stood in the doorway.
Certain classical verses often seemed exaggerated, yet only when you encountered them in reality did you realize how apt the descriptions truly were—such as the phrase *natural beauty unadorned by artifice*.
Accustomed to seeing Ah Li meticulously styled, seeing her fresh from her bath made her appear exceptionally clean, delicate, and refined.
A smile appeared on Li Zhuiyuan's face. With her here, how could he ever confuse dreams with reality?
Liu Yumei said out of nowhere, "When I was young, I was just as pretty as Ah Li."
Li Zhuiyuan quipped, "Did Grandpa fall for you when you were ten?"
"You little rascal, looking for a beating!" Liu Yumei reached out to swat at Li Zhuiyuan, but he dodged aside.
As Ah Li walked over, Liu Yumei stood up, preparing to help comb and style her granddaughter's hair.
To her surprise, her granddaughter bypassed her entirely, following the boy straight into the main house and upstairs.
For a moment, Liu Yumei was left standing awkwardly. But since she was already on her feet, she simply stretched her back.
"Well now, exercising so late in the evening?"
Li Sanjiang and Tan Wenbin had returned, pushing an empty handcart. They had just helped return the borrowed tables, chairs, bowls, and chopsticks.
Liu Yumei replied, "Old arms and old legs—the more you move them, the better."
"True enough. The mule at home fell ill, and pushing that cart for one round really wore me out." Li Sanjiang walked over, slumped into a chair, and pulled out a cigarette to light. He needed a moment to catch his breath.
Tan Wenbin asked, "Is Xiaoyuan back?"
"He's back. Just went upstairs."
"Thanks, Grandma."
Tan Wenbin didn't go upstairs to look for Xiaoyuan. Instead, he hurried over to the workshop.
The moment he pushed the door open, a rich, savory aroma of roasting meat greeted his nostrils.
"Oho, Runsheng, that's not very fair of you—sneaking around roasting meat to eat all by yourself!"
With that, he reached toward the brazier, pinched off a piece, and popped it into his mouth without even blowing on it.
"Hoo... hoo... so hot... boiling hot!"
Runsheng: "..."
"Crispy! Not bad at all. Are you roasting pork skin? Why didn't you set out some dipping sauce? Even a pinch of salt if you don't have chili!"
"Does it taste good?"
"Tastes great! The meat's quite fresh."
"Want some more, then?"
"Obviously! Of course I do."
"Come on, pick whichever piece you want. I'll carve it for you."
Runsheng laid out the two suits of skin clothing on the butcher block, spread out in lifelike fashion.
He had just been carrying out Xiaoyuan's instructions to destroy them. Who could have known Tan Wenbin would barge in and immediately grab a piece to eat? He hadn't even had time to warn him.
Tan Wenbin stared at the two paper-thin human figures lying on the block.
His expression remained completely frozen for a full half-minute, though his mouth continued to chew mechanically.
Finally, he bent over, spat the contents of his mouth onto the floor, and clutched his throat.
"Bleurgh—!"
"The toilet is right next door. Go throw up in there."
Binbin didn't move, continuing to squat and dry-heave on the floor.
Not wanting him to foul the workshop, Runsheng simply hoisted Binbin up, carried him into the bathroom, and propped him against the Dragon Chair so he could retch his heart out.
Returning to the workshop, Runsheng sliced up the rest of the skin clothing and fed the pieces into the furnace in batches.
Destroying them was one thing, but afterward, the stove would need a thorough scrubbing; otherwise, it would be caked in grease.
A pale-faced Tan Wenbin stumbled back inside. Looking at the now-empty butcher block, he asked, "That was a hallucination just now, wasn't it?"
"It's fine. Just dirty meat."
"Wait, you really eat that stuff?!"
Runsheng shook his head. "I don't eat it."
"Phew..." Tan Wenbin breathed a sigh of relief.
"This meat isn't dirty enough; it hasn't marinated thoroughly."
Tan Wenbin collapsed into a seated slump, clutching his hair. "I always feel like you guys are tricking me."
"Tricking you about what?"
"From beginning to end, it feels like a staged play. Whenever things reach a critical moment, I get shoved aside. To this day, I still haven't seen a dead-flipper that moves on its own."
"Then just treat it as us tricking you."
"But it doesn't feel like that either. Xiaoyuan wouldn't trick me over something like this."
Runsheng reached out, touched Tan Wenbin's forehead, and asked with genuine concern, "Do you have food poisoning?"
Tan Wenbin shook his head aggrievedly. He had seen Li Zhuiyuan listen to him read out math problems and recite the answers simultaneously. To an incoming high school senior, that sight had been even more supernatural than encountering a moving corpse.
"Runsheng, can you tell me what happened last night now? Xiaoyuan told me to come ask you."
Runsheng nodded and recounted the events of last night and today.
By the time he finished, Tan Wenbin's face had drained of whatever color remained.
"So... the two water monkeys I ran into today were actually possessed by dead-flippers?"
"Do you even need to ask? You literally ate their skin just now."
"Don't mention that! I was already trying to forget it!"
"Anything else you want to ask?"
"No... nothing." Tan Wenbin rose unsteadily, staggering toward the exit.
"Where are you going?"
"To the corner store to make a phone call and have my dad come take me home."
Tan Wenbin made it out to the courtyard and squatted down. With trembling fingers, he pulled out a cigarette and put it between his lips, but struck the match several times without producing a flame.
He had only been joking just now. How could he actually call his father to take him away? Even if he hadn't seen the dead-flippers this time, there would always be another chance.
It was like someone who loved spicy food but couldn't handle spice—the burn was agonizing and miserable, yet they couldn't resist going back for another bite.
*Scritch!*
The match caught fire. Tan Wenbin immediately ducked his head to light the cigarette.
The roar of an engine approached as a police three-wheeled motorcycle pulled up into the courtyard.
Cigarette dangling from his mouth, Tan Wenbin looked up, locking eyes with Tan Yunlong.
*Plop.*
The cigarette dropped from his lips to the ground.
Tan Yunlong stepped off the police vehicle, strode over, and delivered a dose of paternal discipline with a swift kick.
*Thud!*
Tan Wenbin was sent sprawling across the flat ground, rolling several times.
"Did I put you here so you could squat around smoking cigarettes? You don't have a shred of manners left in you!"
Tan Wenbin shot back, "Dad, aren't you using official vehicles for private business too?"
"Heh." Tan Yunlong began unbuckling his belt.
"What's going on, what's going on?" Li Sanjiang hurried out and caught Tan Yunlong's arm. "Don't go hitting the lad! What if you break something?"
"Uncle, this punk was just squatting here smoking!"
"Ai, I gave it to the boy just now, teasing him for fun! He doesn't know how to smoke at all. If you want to hit someone, hit me!"
"Uncle, you can't protect him like this. If you spoil a child too much, he'll turn out rotten."
"I spoil my little Xiaoyuanhou, and I think he turned out just fine!"
"Can that be the same?"
"They're both boys. What's different?"
"I'd give anything for him to be no different!"
"Come on, sit down. Stay and have dinner with us tonight."
"No, Uncle, I'm here on official business. An opera troupe got into a road accident around noon over by Pingchao Town. Their vehicle crashed through the guardrail while crossing a bridge and plunged into the river."
"Which opera troupe?"
"The one that performed in Siyuan Village yesterday."
"Oh, that troupe... How are they? How are the people?"
"All dead."
*Hiss...* "How could that happen?"
"It was just a simple traffic accident, but with so many casualties, I came over for routine inquiries. Did anything happen during yesterday's performance, like fights or arguments causing friction?"
"No, none at all. Their performance yesterday was wonderful. They probably stayed up all night performing and drove while fatigued."
"Yeah. Their background was a bit unique—an out-of-province troupe."
"Work must've been hard to come by back home, so they came here to look for a livelihood. Ah, what a tragedy."
"All right, that'll do, then. Uncle, having Binbin stay here must be an awful hassle for you."
"No hassle at all! The lad is very good, very capable—he even helps me with my chores. Honestly, the boy has a good character; I can tell."
"His grades are just abysmal. He doesn't put his mind to his schoolwork and only thinks about playing all day long."
"Aren't all boys like that? My Xiaoyuanhou is the same—playful, with no mind for studying."
Tan Yunlong: "..."
"Uncle, do you really not know how well your Xiaoyuan does in his studies?"
"Didn't that only happen because you helped out? Otherwise, I'd still be worrying over whether he could attend school at all."
"Xiaoyuan didn't tell you?"
"He told me. He said you pulled the strings and arranged it."
"It's what I should have done. Nine years of compulsory education—how could we let a child go without school?"
Seeing that the old man was oblivious, Tan Yunlong didn't bother offering further explanations.
"Stay and have dinner after all."
"No, really, I'm off."
After bidding Li Sanjiang farewell, Tan Yunlong climbed onto his motorcycle and rode away.
Only after his father was gone did Tan Wenbin scramble up from the ground and pat the dust off his clothes.
Li Sanjiang pulled out a cigarette and held it out. "Still dare to smoke?"
"Why wouldn't I!"
*Smack!*
Li Sanjiang rewarded Tan Wenbin with a sharp rap across the skull.
Clutching his head, Tan Wenbin protested aggrievedly, "Uncle, what was that for?"
"Don't resent your father. He does it for your own good. When you grow up, your father will pull out a cigarette and offer it to you."
"Heh..." Imagining that scene, Tan Wenbin couldn't help grinning. "That'd be great."
"Stupid bastard. When your father hands you a cigarette for the first time, you won't be able to smile at all."
...
Li Zhuiyuan didn't rush to examine the book. Instead, he sat in his room playing chess with Ah Li.
Game after game they played, and game after game he lost. The boy relished this process; it helped soothe his anxious restlessness.
He knew he had a bad habit of overthinking, but in front of this girl, he always felt at peace.
Auntie Liu came upstairs and knocked on the door. Li Zhuiyuan stepped out and took the bag she handed him, which was filled with cash.
"Thank you, Auntie Liu."
"Come downstairs for dinner."
"All right."
Because Auntie Liu had spent time going to the bank, dinner was simple—noodles with two kinds of toppings—yet delicious nonetheless.
"Hey, Zhuangzhuang, why don't you have any appetite tonight?"
"Ate too much at noon."
"I thought your dad kicked your stomach apart."
"Hardly. His aim is terrifyingly precise."
"Zhuangzhuang, will you become a police officer in the future too?"
"Not a chance."
"What's wrong with being a policeman? It's a great job."
"My grandpa said just being a policeman is fine, so long as the word 'People's' isn't attached to the front. With those two characters, it's far more exhausting, and the burden is vastly heavier."
"He truly is a wise old man."
"Uh, are you talking about my grandpa?"
"He's your grandfather too."
Tan Wenbin turned toward Li Zhuiyuan and asked, "Xiaoyuan, what university are you planning to apply for?"
"Haihe University."
"Fine, then I'll take the exam for that one too! When the time comes, I'll go report to campus with you."
*Clack!*
Li Sanjiang rapped the end of his chopstick against Tan Wenbin's head.
"What nonsense are you spewing! If you went to register alongside our little Xiaoyuanhou, how many years would you have to be held back?!"
Li Zhuiyuan noticed that Ah Li's movements while eating noodles had become very natural. She no longer obsessed over making every strand identical in length.
When she finished, Li Zhuiyuan asked, "Want more?"
Ah Li shook her head.
Li Zhuiyuan picked up a handkerchief, and she leaned forward of her own accord.
After wiping her mouth and hands, Li Zhuiyuan folded the handkerchief and wiped his own face with it.
Seeing the girl staring intently at the handkerchief, the boy deliberately slipped it into his pocket.
The girl seemed to pout slightly.
After dinner, Li Zhuiyuan coaxed Ah Li back to her room to sleep. When he returned to the main house, he saw Runsheng and Tan Wenbin sitting together before the television. Bamboo strips and wooden splints were laid out in front of them as they watched the screen while assembling paper effigies.
To his surprise, Tan Wenbin's movements were remarkably adept. An outsider might have assumed his family ran an ancestral funeral paper shop as well.
"Brother Binbin."
"Hey, Brother Xiaoyuan."
"Aren't you going to read your books or do your homework?"
"I brought all my homework. I already wrote the essay myself; as for the rest, you can help me fill it out before I head back."
"If you keep this up, your parents won't let you come over anymore."
"Relax. The worse my grades are, the more determined they'll be to dump me here."
"That makes a lot of sense."
"Heheh, after all, tying me up inside the Temple of Literature hasn't worked half as well as leaving me here."
"Is Haihe University hard to get into?"
"Brother Xiaoyuan, are you reminding me to study hard?"
"Just asking."
"You don't know?"
"I don't."
"Oh, right. To someone like you, all domestic universities probably look the same. With my current grades, the odds of me getting into Haihe University are about as high as every single household having a color TV in the future."
"Then you should be able to get in. An older brother told me that would happen."
Heading up to the second floor, Li Zhuiyuan began practicing horse-stance while regulating his breathing.
Once finished, he took a bath and returned to his room.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he held the black-covered manual in his hands.
He knew he would certainly study it.
Because he was still young, and as Liu Yumei had said, training hard physical arts before his bones fully matured was inappropriate. Yet he could not tolerate his own helplessness in the face of repeated crises.
Granted, the crises he had run into lately were rather absurd—like Zhao Kuo reading military treatises at home, only to step out the front door and bump straight into Bai Qi.
Still... he had to learn non-physical methods capable of directly confronting dead-flippers.
The entity handing him this book was an open scheme, a trap laid in broad daylight.
Yet the ultimate outcome might not be the one it hoped to see.
Tucking the book beneath his pillow, Li Zhuiyuan got off the bed, walked over to the wardrobe, and gazed at his reflection in the mirror.
*A feeling of unfamiliarity?*
*But whenever I looked at myself in the mirror long ago, I already felt completely unfamiliar.*
*Contaminating and twisting my emotions?*
*How I wish I had emotions for it to contaminate.*
*You said I resemble Wei Zhengdao. Could there be another possibility...?*
Li Zhuiyuan pressed his hand against the glass. His reflection gradually blurred, seeming to morph into another stranger—though of course, that was merely his own imagination.
"Did Wei Zhengdao suffer from the same illness as me and Li Lan?"
...
Sleeping early meant waking early. By the time he woke, the sky had not yet brightened. Glancing sideways, he saw it wasn't yet time for the girl to arrive.
After getting up and washing, he took the black-covered manual and stepped out onto the terrace. He saw the door of the east room swing open, and Ah Li emerged, clad in a white blouse and horse-face skirt.
She lifted her head, looking up at the boy standing on the balcony.
Li Zhuiyuan smiled and waved at her.
Though the dawn had not yet broken, his sun had already risen.
With the girl seated beside him, Li Zhuiyuan formally began reading through the black-covered manual.
Familiar handwriting, familiar self-satisfaction.
Perhaps because this had been written for a friend, that sentiment was even stronger, carrying the sheer delight of sharing one's prized treasures with a close companion.
Li Zhuiyuan suspected that the entity had hated the wrong person all along.
Wei Zhengdao might have genuinely and purely wished to teach him this method, but certain techniques were not meant for everyone.
As he read on, Li Zhuiyuan confirmed his hypothesis.
Section One: Yin-Walking Control.
Section Two: Consciousness Integration.
Section Three: Cognitive Guidance.
Section Four: Complete Manipulation.
The book was neither thick nor extensive. It merely explained the methodology; learning it was a matter of following the pattern.
Yet the difficulty was staggering. Controlling the yin walk alone was something few people could ever master.
Seen this way, that entity was indeed a genius. It had actually succeeded in learning it, and had even controlled so many dead-flippers.
Beyond that, the technique in this book was sinister and ruthless.
It treated dead-flippers as "beasts," forging a connection through walking the yin path, then integrating consciousness to read their pre-mortem memories, and finally using hypnosis and deceit to tempt and manipulate their behavior.
It was very much like... beast taming.
Perhaps in his formal, published works, Wei Zhengdao had felt obliged to keep up a dignified facade, repeatedly writing "slain by the righteous path."
Yet in the notes written for a personal friend, he let his guard down, revealing his true nature.
*Wei Zhengdao, oh Wei Zhengdao. To come up with a method like this—what kind of righteous path are you supposed to be?*
For Li Zhuiyuan, the first step was not difficult, nor were the third and fourth steps. He could already control walking the yin path, and as for hypnosis and guidance, he was well-versed in them—after all, he had extensive experience being studied by psychiatrists.
It was the second step that left him without a clue.
Wei Zhengdao's description was deeply esoteric and abstract. Li Zhuiyuan had to attempt "translating" it into modern terminology to make sense of it.
It seemed akin to a frequency—like tuning a radio—where one had to establish a state of resonance between oneself and the dead-flipper.
Could it be understood that way?
Then how did one adjust that frequency?
Li Zhuiyuan leaned back against the rattan chair, draped the book over his face, and closed his eyes.
He wanted to feel it out, first slipping into that half-asleep, half-awake state to attempt a yin walk.
Beside him, seeing the boy lie down, the girl lay back as well.
Under the early morning light, the boy and girl lay side by side on adjacent rattan chairs, though the girl turned onto her side, watching the boy's face.
Li Zhuiyuan caught the familiar sensation, as if he had successfully entered the yin path. He slowly opened his eyes, only to find the surroundings shrouded in dense fog, obscuring everything.
Following the instructions in the book, Li Zhuiyuan began attempting to make his conscious imagery vibrate. This was what he understood as... frequency.
In reality, lying on the rattan chair, the boy's eyelashes began fluttering rapidly.
Ah Li noticed. She reached out toward him, but pulled her hand back halfway through. Then she too closed her eyes.
Within the hazy mist, nothing changed.
Li Zhuiyuan finally realized a glaring problem: without a test subject, what on earth was he trying to experiment on here?
Yet what else could he do? Call Brother Runsheng out to help kidnap a dead-flipper so he could run experiments on it?
Just then, the surrounding scenery began vibrating at an accelerating pace, as if a powerful frequency was actively responding to him.
The fog before him began rolling back. Ahead, in the center of the darkness, Li Zhuiyuan saw a girl sitting with her knees drawn to her chest.
*Uh...*
*Did I just...*
*sense Ah Li?*
Chapter 42