Homecoming

To many, homesickness is like a jar of aged cellar wine; unless you raise a cup, you hardly feel worthy of speaking of nostalgia. Yet sometimes, it feels more like a can of Jianlibao. Pop the tab, and with a crisp crack, suppressed emotions vent along with the rush of carbonation, tears spilling over with the fizzy soda. Take a sip, and bubbles dance across the tip of your tongue. It was like boarding school students bolting for home the moment break began, or young children sent off to stay at someone else's house—playing happily through the day, only to cry their hearts out for home as soon as dusk fell. Among the kids who had gone out from the household, Tan Wenbin was the one most like an ordinary human. Naturally, his reaction was also the most intense. It felt as if only by planting his feet firmly onto the family's courtyard, wrapping Li Sanjiang in a fierce bear hug, and hearing the old man bark out "Zhuangzhuang" could he finally seal the verdict deep in his heart: Phew, he was truly back at last. All those hair-raising, horrific ordeals they had weathered along the road were finally over. That sense of security was something not even his own birth parents could provide. Li Sanjiang was fond of Zhuangzhuang, of course, but the one he adored most was undeniably his own great-grandson. "Xiaoyuanhou!" The familiar local cadence was the finest catalyst imaginable. A distinctive gleam surfaced in Li Zhuiyuan's eyes as well. Li Sanjiang bent down, intending to scoop the boy up. His first attempt failed; only after sucking in a deep breath did he manage to lift him on the second try. It wasn't that the boy was too heavy to lift, but he certainly wasn't as light as before. Liu Yumei sat in a chair sipping tea. With the weather turning cool, she had draped a padded jacket over her shoulders. None of the commanding majesty she had displayed in Shancheng remained; right now, she looked genuinely like an exquisite little country grandma. Auntie Liu beamed and said, "None of you have eaten yet, have you? Just wait, I'll go boil some noodles for you right now." Li Zhuiyuan slipped down from Li Sanjiang's embrace, stepped into the house, and headed upstairs. With a cigarette pinched between the fingers of his left hand and his right propped against his hip, Li Sanjiang ambled over to Liu Yumei and sighed, "Kids grow up so fast. Might not be long before I can't lift him anymore." Liu Yumei lifted her cup and took a sip, treating the old fellow's words like hot air. You can hoist a waterlogged, dead-weight floater, but you can't lift a living person? The old coot had simply seen his great-grandson return, felt his mind stirring again, and wanted to use the remark as an opening to play matchmaker. Seeing that Liu Yumei wasn't taking the bait, Li Sanjiang muttered to himself, "Getting old. Truly. In the blink of an eye... tsk, human life really feels unreal." Liu Yumei replied, "Then why haven't you hurried to prepare your longevity coffin?" Li Sanjiang flicked his cigarette ash with slight awkwardness. "Yeah, true. Seems I really ought to start thinking about it." "Don't just think about it—you have to get a move on. Earth burials are being clamped down on tighter and tighter. If you leave it too late, there won't be any loopholes left, and you'll just be hauled off to the crematorium to be burned to ash." Li Sanjiang offered a bashful smile, waving his hand in agreement. "Makes sense, that makes sense." "Grandpa Li, let me introduce someone," Tan Wenbin chimed in. "This is Yin Meng, from Sichuan." As Li Sanjiang listened to Tan Wenbin's introduction, his brows drew tighter and tighter. What? She's moving into the house? However, once Yin Meng explained that she only needed room and board and had no need for wages, Li Sanjiang felt much easier. Not only did he agree to let her stay, but he also promised to pay her the same wages as Runsheng and Auntie Liu. His trade required hands in the first place; he was always open to ordinary hired help. What he feared was taking in some untouchable deity. Liu Yumei caught sight of the spade head protruding from Yin Meng's luggage and gestured to her. "Girl, come over here and talk." Yin Meng walked over with a smile. "Fancy some tea?" "Sure." Yin Meng pinched a handful of tea leaves into a cup, picked up the thermos, and poured in hot water. Liu Yumei felt a pang of regret. If she had known, she would have had Xiaoyuan brew her a cup before letting him run upstairs. "Where are you from?" "Fuling." "Where in Fuling?" "Fengdu." Fengdu, surnamed Yin. Liu Yumei asked impassively, "Tied to the docks?" "Yes. My family ran a coffin shop in the county town." "Ghost Street?" "Grandma, have you been to our town?" Liu Yumei shook her head. "Never." In the past, an ordinary corpse retriever stationed at a dock wouldn't have even qualified to lay eyes on her. But she indeed knew of the Yin family of Fengdu. The Yin family's ancestors had been exceedingly famous—though that fame had stayed firmly in the ancestral past, having declined long ago. "What made you think of coming all the way here?" "My grandfather passed away, and I have no family or friends left there. So I followed Brother Xiaoyuan... followed Xiaoyuan here." "You can share the west room with Ah Ting." "Alright. I've got good hands, I can work." "Don't tell me that. I'm not the master here." "Did you come here seeking shelter just like me, then?" "Something like that." "The noodles are ready, come and eat!" Auntie Liu called out from the kitchen doorway. Liu Yumei lifted her chin. "Go on, eat your noodles." "Right, on it!" Once Yin Meng left, Liu Yumei sank into solitary contemplation. Auntie Liu walked over, sat down beside her, and asked softly, "What's the matter?" "Just moved by the scene." "Because of the Yin girl?" "Yes, and no. I was wondering what truly counts as a family's legacy. Is it the surname, or certain genuine craft secrets, or perhaps a particular conviction?" "Why dwell on such things all of a sudden?" "Ever since coming back from Shancheng, those thoughts have been turning over in my head." Auntie Liu covered her mouth with a light chuckle. She knew the old lady was just finding a graceful step down for herself. "Ah Ting, what are you laughing at?" "I'm laughing at how stubborn and conflicted you are." "Insolent. Slap your own mouth." "Fine, fine, I'll slap it, I'll slap it." Auntie Liu made a show of lightly tapping her own cheeks a few times. Liu Yumei couldn't help but smile, waving her away. "Go, go, stop making a spectacle of yourself in front of me. Go tend to your work." "Right away." Auntie Liu stood up. Passing the three youths who were slurping their noodles, she said warmly, "Eat slowly, there's more in the pot. I'll fry a few more eggs for you." Entering the kitchen, she lifted the pot lid and began humming softly while pouring oil into the wok. Old lady, let's see how long you can keep up that stubborn pride. The thought that one day in the future, even the noble matriarch would have to lay down her airs and negotiate which child took which surname brought a grin Auntie Liu could barely suppress. She was genuinely looking forward to it. *** With the weather turning cold, the screen door had already been taken down. Li Zhuiyuan pushed open the door and saw Ah Li standing inside. Earlier, when he hadn't seen anyone by the threshold downstairs, he knew the girl would be in his room. On the drawing desk lay several finished paintings. Each sheet was framed around its edges by a doorway, with a threshold at the bottom, and depicted hair-raising, horrifying entities right in the center. Li Zhuiyuan admired them one by one. Chilling though the paintings were, looking at them only made him happier. This meant that Ah Li was beginning to confront head-on the horrors she had spent so long evading. Her recovery had taken another monumental stride forward. "Hmm? Why is there one pressed underneath?" Li Zhuiyuan lifted the top sheet, revealing the drawing hidden beneath. It was drawn from a low angle looking upward: beside the second-floor terrace sat a boy, engrossed in an ancient text. Ah Li had actually painted him. "Why didn't you draw yourself in there, too?" Ah Li moved that sheet aside as well. Beneath it lay another, drawn at eye level—a side profile of the boy sitting in a rattan chair, reading. Next came two more. One was set at night in the family courtyard: the boy stood there, backed by a shadowy, long-haired silhouette clad in a black qipao. The final piece depicted the scene before the Ding family mourning hall in Shancheng, where Old Second Ding knelt and the boy returned the internal rite of superior status. The girl's eyes had held only him. An ordinary balcony did not move, but he was a living person, so her gaze had followed him wherever he went. He raised his right palm. The previous burn was gone after applying Auntie Liu's ointment, but the lesson from that incident remained. The girl's condition was steadily improving, yet if anything were to happen to him one day, it would inevitably bring her crashing down with him. And yet, the boy did not view this responsibility as a burden. It was more like a counterweight keeping him grounded as he walked through howling winds. Taking the girl by the hand, he led her back to the rattan chairs on the second-floor terrace. Quite naturally, the two began three simultaneous games of mental weiqi, while Li Zhuiyuan started recounting the interesting things he had seen after leaving Shancheng. As he spoke, he gradually focused on Yin Changsheng. The boy said with absolute certainty that once he grew up, he would definitely return to Fengdu to try and see the Emperor of Fengdu, whether he turned out to be an immortal or a corpse. The girl rested her chin on her hand, her eyes carrying a smile. The boy's anticipations were her anticipations; if he found the future interesting, then she too felt a longing for it. *** "Who's that girl? Good heavens, she's gorgeous." Though there was no shortage of children who grew up pretty only to lose their looks later in life, Yin Meng was certain the young girl upstairs would never turn out that way. Her current beauty had far too high a margin for error, and while features could shift, aura was something that rarely changed. Runsheng said, "Ah Li. Surnamed Qin. But don't go near her; she doesn't like strangers." Yin Meng asked, "You serious?" "Dead serious." After finishing their meal, the two sat in the courtyard weaving bamboo frames for paper effigies. Back home, Yin Meng had made miniature coffins, so this sort of work was even simpler for her. She even turned with great interest to Li Sanjiang, who was sitting nearby puffing on a cigarette, and asked, "Grandpa Li, have you thought about opening a coffin shop again? I know how to make them." Li Sanjiang tossed his cigarette butt to the ground and crushed it beneath the sole of his shoe. "No. In our parts, that trade's got a tail shorter than a rabbit's." Pausing, he added, "Though we could take custom orders." Yin Meng replied generously, "Sure, I'll make one for you first so you have it ready." Li Sanjiang clapped his hands. "Good, that'll do!" Just then, Auntie Liu walked past. Li Sanjiang called out to her, "Want to custom-order one for your mother-in-law too?" "Custom-order what? A coffin?" "Yeah! Buying the timber ourselves and having our own people make it—it's cheap and cost-effective." "No need. People in our family don't do earth burials." Yin Meng snapped her head up, staring at Auntie Liu. Auntie Liu continued, "We're keeping up with the times. We all plan to be cremated." Yin Meng lowered her head and resumed her work. "Alright then. Let me think who else we can make one for... How about one for Shanpao?" Runsheng looked up at Li Sanjiang with joy. "No, that won't work. Shanpao can barely afford food; where would he get the money to commission a coffin?" "Grandpa, you can deduct it from my wages." "Heh, I'm just teasing you, lad! Even if he doesn't have a cent, we can still afford to gift him a box. He's an orphan with no parents and no ancestral plot anyway. Later on, he can just be buried beside me, right next door, so I'll have someone to jaw with whenever my mouth gets idle. Runshenghou, what do you reckon?" Runsheng fell silent. Back home, his grandfather had cursed Li Sanjiang behind his back plenty of times. He had complained that over the years, whenever he went out on jobs with Li Sanjiang, he took all the hardships and suffered all the grief while Li Sanjiang hogged all the limelight. His grandfather said the biggest mistake he had made in his entire life was meeting Li Sanjiang, and that in his next life, he would stay as far away from the old bastard as possible. If they ended up buried side by side as neighbors, Runsheng genuinely feared his grandfather would be angry enough to become an animated corpse. "Runshenghou, I'm talking to you!" Even with Li Sanjiang prodding him, Runsheng didn't dare casually agree. Though Grandpa Li was far older than his own grandfather, he had an inkling his grandfather would most likely pass away before Grandpa Li. If he gave his word now, once his grandfather kicked the bucket, there would be no taking it back. Just then, Tan Wenbin stepped out from the outhouse behind the house, fastening his waistband as he spoke: "I say, Grandpa Li, what's so great about your ancestral graves anyway? If you ask me, you ought to pick out a fresh spot with superior fengshui—that way it'll bring fortune to your descendants! "As for Grandpa Shan, unless he comes begging, don't even let him think about cozying up to our plot to siphon off our Xiaoyuan's future blessings." "Right you are! Can't let Shanpao freeload like that." Li Sanjiang stood up and waved. "Come, Zhuangzhuang, take a stroll through the village with me. While we're at it, we can scout out which families have the best burial knolls." "You got it! This is a major affair; I've got to advise you properly." "Before we check the plots, we have to swing by Blind Liu's place." "We definitely should. We need to get her to custom-order one first; Granny Liu has money." The pair walked down from the courtyard side by side, chatting and laughing. Yin Meng nudged Runsheng with her elbow and asked, "Isn't he Binbin? Why is he called Zhuangzhuang now?" Runsheng replied, "He was taken in as godfamily." "Should I get adopted into it too?" "Then you'll have to build coffins properly and not slack off at work." "Does Grandpa Li like diligent, grounded kids?" Runsheng hesitated for a moment. Thinking of what Li Sanjiang usually called him, he said, "Grandpa likes mules." *** The days rolled by, one after another. Li Zhuiyuan had previously only suspected it, but now he was certain: whatever was buried beneath the peach orchard at Big Beard's place had altered the fengshui of the entire village, perhaps even the entire township. At first, dead-flippers had sprouted like leeks, one crop after another, giving people no rest. Now, months had gone by without a whisper of any dead-flipper, leaving one almost missing them. By his estimate, this state of affairs would persist for quite a few years. Only after that presence was entirely eroded and dissolved would the dead-flippers in the vicinity reclaim their thriving vitality and burgeoning abundance. Yet even without dead-flippers for the time being, Li Zhuiyuan's days remained exceedingly full. He no longer went to school, but his routine was structured like a timetable. The first thing he did upon waking each morning was admire Ah Li's outfit for the day. Then he would play a few rounds of chess with her before heading down for breakfast. During the day, Li Zhuiyuan spent most of his time reading. The books of the Qi family ancestors were now one-third deciphered. He had deliberately reined in his pace, spending only his spare energy on the task each day. He had finished reading the entire Yin family genealogy, and it was truly magnificent. It contained not only the Yin family's extensive research and inquiries regarding Yin Changsheng, but also personal travelogues from many ancestors. Though it belonged to a single lineage, because it had been passed down continuously since the Eastern Han dynasty, it amounted to an archive of case studies and experiences from generations of corpse retrievers. This ordinary yet orthodox retriever perspective was of tremendous help to the present Li Zhuiyuan. Wei Zhengdao's texts were certainly precise and profound, but they were somewhat detached from the ground. The bamboo slips had already been restored, but Xue Liangliang insisted on delivering them in person, so they had not yet reached his hands. When he wasn't reading, Li Zhuiyuan played chess with Ah Li, enjoyed the breeze, or engaged in their private little exercises. By now, Li Zhuiyuan could stand calmly within "Ah Li's threshold perspective" and observe the "scenery." So long as he didn't deliberately linger and woke up in time, there were no severe side effects—at most a mild dizziness. Old man Yin Fuhai had once remarked that he was "sturdy." Presumably, after this period of specialized training, he would become sturdier still. Moreover, Ah Li's training had only just begun. He was still standing inside the threshold; to advance further, he needed only to step across it. Yet that was too dangerous. Li Zhuiyuan didn't dare. He hadn't grown up yet and had no desire to play himself into an early grave. *** Yin Meng integrated seamlessly into local life. She proved a deft hand at both paper effigies and coffins, and she regularly accompanied Runsheng to deliver tables, chairs, bowls, and plates for funeral feasts. She and Runsheng got along exceptionally well. Because Binbin had to attend school every day, he didn't even eat breakfast at home, rushing off for early self-study. However, he skipped evening self-study; otherwise, despite living there, the household would scarcely ever see him. At night, he would practice horse stances and martial routines alongside Yin Meng. Though ancestral arts were not supposed to be passed outside the lineage, she was the only Yin left. Whether to pass them on was entirely her call. Runsheng would sometimes join in as well. Essentially, they had all begun treading the orthodox path of the Yin family corpse retrievers, finally securing a formal foundation. This was also due to historical reasons. The earliest Yin family path had surely been elite and arduous, but because the lineage had declined early while enduring for so long, generations of Yins had tinkered with it, stripping down the requirements and lowering the difficulty, thereby managing to pass down the fundamentals. The Qin family arts, by contrast, remained high-spec. Without dedicated personal instruction, one could not practice them blindly, leaving Li Zhuiyuan as the only one continuing their breath-refinement techniques. There was no helping it; once Uncle Qin departed, he never reappeared, severing ties cleanly without leaving the slightest thread behind. Every evening, Yin Meng would teach first, followed by Runsheng teaching the forms of Wei Zhengdao that he had "synthesized" from Li Zhuiyuan. The Yin style provided the foundation, while Wei Zhengdao raised their ceiling. At first, the three of them practiced on the second-floor terrace. After Li Sanjiang scolded them for disturbing his sleep, they moved out into the fields. Facts proved once more that pairing superior instructional material with superior aptitude would never yield poor results. Yin Meng's movements grew remarkably agile, her techniques fluid and controlled. Runsheng was even more terrifying. Every punch and kick now tore through the air with a whistling howl. Previously, he could only rely on raw instinct to deal with dead-flippers, often having to lunge and bite like a beast; now, he operated with far greater composure. He was like a beast that had learned to don a suit and tie—emanating an even heavier aura of oppression. Tan Wenbin, practicing alongside them, practically drooled with envy. His companions were improving at a visible pace, while his own efforts yielded little more than general physical fitness. Every night during sparring, Tan Wenbin would pick an opponent first, get swiftly dropped by whoever he chose, and then watch the other two spar against each other. The only thing that allowed Tan Wenbin to claw back some confidence was that when Xiaoyuan taught the three of them how to walk the yin path, he progressed the fastest. Although Xiaoyuan forbade them from taking the final step to fully enter the state, Tan Wenbin had mastered all the preparatory stages. By contrast, Runsheng and Yin Meng learned the technique very slowly. Even so, Tan Wenbin began noticing something amiss: whenever he slept at night or took an afternoon nap in the classroom, he was prone to sleep paralysis. After he told Xiaoyuan, the boy explained that this was a side effect; for a few days after experiencing sleep paralysis, he had to suspend his practice. Li Zhuiyuan had no solution for this side effect—or rather, there was no solution, as this was inherently part of walking the yin path. Yet during the teaching process, Li Zhuiyuan also discovered that people with more active, agile minds seemed to master the yin path more easily. *** Every so often, Tan Wenbin would come to Li Zhuiyuan to collect his customized problem sets and take the other portion to the school. *Zhuiyuan Secret Papers* was now selling exceptionally well in Nantong, and copies had begun circulating outside the city as well. A substantial share of the profits arrived every month. Tan Wenbin had already drawn up a new proposal for Li Zhuiyuan. Starting next semester, they would no longer produce problem sets categorized by subject knowledge points, but complete mock exam papers instead. The second semester of senior year was the critical sprint period; students and teachers would be finished reviewing past knowledge points and would have a massive demand for complete exam papers. The papers could be graded by difficulty into foundation papers, simulation papers, and advanced stretch papers. Foundation papers would build confidence, simulation papers would match normal gaokao difficulty, and advanced papers would be designed purely to crush morale. Originally, Tan Wenbin had also wanted to suggest padding the complete papers—for instance, including only a handful of high-quality questions on each paper while filling out the rest casually, letting teachers pick and choose which problems to assign. That would reduce the drafting burden while driving up sales volume. Upon further thought, however, Tan Wenbin discarded the idea. They were still in the phase of building brand recognition; they couldn't afford to tarnish the name. After all, they weren't just earning royalties for this single year. Once the brand was firmly established, they could always sell off the *Zhuiyuan Secret Papers* trademark later on—that was where the real money lay. Juggling both his studies and martial training, Tan Wenbin was constantly on the move from morning to night. His appetite grew by leaps and bounds, yet far from gaining weight, he had actually grown a bit leaner. "Brother Xiaoyuan, final exams are coming up. Are you taking them?" "Yes, I'll take them." "Then should I head over with you tomorrow morning?" "No need. I'll go in the afternoon." "But Chinese and Math are in the morning." "I'll just take them together once I get there." That night, snow began to fall. Before dawn the next day, Tan Wenbin set off on his bicycle against the wind and snow. At noon, just as Li Zhuiyuan finished lunch, he saw Principal Wu driving the school car up to the edge of the fields. Stepping into the car, Li Zhuiyuan saw Principal Wu beam and point to the opposite seat. "Xiaoyuan, there are snacks and drinks over there." "I've already eaten, Principal Grandpa." "Then wait a moment, I'll carry them inside for your family first." Principal Wu got out, hauled the large sack of snacks into Li Sanjiang's house, and then returned to start the car. Upon arriving at the school and walking into the principal's office, the department heads for every subject were already waiting inside. Li Zhuiyuan sat down and began working on the final exam papers. Even though two subjects had already been administered that morning, no one suspected the boy of cheating via leaked questions. While writing his Chinese essay, Li Zhuiyuan pointed toward the tape recorder sitting on the principal's desk. "Go ahead and play the English listening section." "Ah, right now?" Principal Wu immediately urged, "Play it when he tells you to play it! Are you the teacher or is he?" "Oh, right." Principal Wu had phrased it clumsily, but no one in the room laughed. The cassette was loaded, and the listening track began: *"Excuse me... The price of the shirt is nine pounds and fifteen pence. Therefore, you should select option [B] and mark it on your answer sheet..."* After finishing his essay, Li Zhuiyuan started on the physics paper. By the time he finished physics, the English listening track had long since concluded. Li Zhuiyuan picked up the English paper. "Should I replay—" *Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh.* Li Zhuiyuan filled in all the listening answers in rapid succession. The teacher sensibly shut his mouth. In truth, after mastering the twelve methods of the Yin family, Li Zhuiyuan had found that his multitasking capacity had developed even further. By the time he finished the exams, many departments had already graded his papers on the spot, awarding perfect scores. Principal Wu's weathered face bloomed into a radiant smile as he leaned over to massage the boy's aching wrist. "Xiaoyuan, the national Olympiad is about to begin. Is there any inconvenience on your end?" "I can go." "Wonderful, wonderful." Just then, the head of the math department, Teacher Yan, chimed in with a grin, "Then let's head over early so Xiaoyuan can have some fun around the capital." Wu Xinhan glared at Teacher Yan and snapped, "Have you lost your mind? Xiaoyuan grew up in the capital!" "Oh, right." Teacher Yan slapped his receding hairline. "I forgot." "Principal Grandpa, are we taking the train?" "Taking the train is so exhausting! We're flying there." Wu Xinhan and the teachers escorted Li Zhuiyuan out of the office, walking him all the way to the school gate. At that moment, an exam session had just ended, and senior students were stretching as they poured out of their classrooms. Class monitor Zhou Yunyun, who was assigned to an exam room on a different floor, happened to bump into Tan Wenbin outside. "How did it go?" Zhou Yunyun offered him a White Rabbit milk candy. Tan Wenbin took the candy, reached into his pocket, and fished out a chocolate wrapper, though half of the chocolate bar had already been eaten during the exam. Zhou Yunyun didn't mind and naturally reached out to take it. Instead, she watched as Tan Wenbin popped the remaining half into his own mouth. "Ah, I was starving." Zhou Yunyun smoothly turned her extended hand into an adjustment of her hair. Tan Wenbin spotted the boy surrounded by teachers and school leaders near the gate. Rather than waving or shouting, he simply smiled and walked back toward his classroom. Sitting down at his desk, Tan Wenbin placed his miniature coffin pencil case on the surface. Earlier, he had carried that very coffin into the exam room. Zhou Yunyun slipped into Li Zhuiyuan's seat, unzipped her pencil case, and pulled out a slip of paper. "Want to compare answers?" Tan Wenbin shook his head. "No need." "Afraid it'll mess with your mindset for the next session?" "Nah, I think I did fine." "Can you change your pencil case?" "Nope." Tan Wenbin turned to look at her. "If you dislike it so much, why did you ask me for one? And now that you have it, you never use it." Zhou Yunyun was at a loss for words. She had indeed asked for one, and Tan Wenbin had given it to her, but she only kept it tucked away deep in her drawer, never displaying it. For one thing, the object was somewhat unsettling to look at. For another, they hadn't established a relationship; what would it look like if they both carried coffin pencil cases? If they truly made things official, she... she would use it. The main issue was that she found herself liking this boy more and more. In the past, as a model student, she had merely appreciated his brash, devil-may-care attitude. Later, his grades improved steadily, and somehow his whole bearing had shifted. Though he remained casually indolent on the surface, there was an increasingly captivating air between his brows. Where previously there had been mutual goodwill kept at a tacit distance, Zhou Yunyun had now become the proactive one. She had hinted several times that they could make things official, yet the boy showed zero response. Even Zhou Yunyun couldn't understand what had come over her. Yet it was entirely natural. High schoolers—and even university students—still carried the pristine innocence of the ivory tower in their eyes. Tan Wenbin, however, had brushed past life and death multiple times. Though his age and appearance remained unchanged, his mindset had long since developed a crushing dimensional advantage over his peers. Yet the more this was true, the less he would entertain Zhou Yunyun's hints. At this age, school ought to come first; he couldn't afford to hold her back. Most importantly, he was spinning like a top every single day, far too busy to have any leisure for romance. How could puppy love ever compete with dead-flippers? Though he hadn't seen a dead-flipper in quite a while, he wasn't in any hurry. All his current preparations were for encountering bigger ones down the line. *** Principal Wu drove Li Zhuiyuan home. Arriving at the courtyard, Li Zhuiyuan heard someone call his name from the second floor. Looking up, he saw Xue Liangliang. "Xiaoyuan!" "Brother Liangliang." Xue Liangliang had just showered and changed into fresh clothes. Li Zhuiyuan had the feeling that if he weren't planning on heading down into the river, he would have sprayed cologne and styled his hair as well. "Xiaoyuan, I've already set the restored bamboo slips on your desk. It took quite a while, but there was no helping it—with something so important, I couldn't trust anyone else to deliver it, so I had to come in person." Li Zhuiyuan didn't believe him. He suspected Brother Liangliang's insistence on delivering the slips in person was merely an excuse to visit Nantong again. And then, on the principle of "since I'm already here," concoct an unavoidable pretext to dive back to the riverbed. "Brother Liangliang, are you staying the night here?" "No." "Heading out to another city tonight?" "Well... not quite." Li Zhuiyuan stared at him. Xue Liangliang sighed, putting on a helpless expression. "Ah, I have no choice. Since I'm already here..." "Right." Who knew who it was that had fought tooth and nail at the negotiation table to stretch out the intervals between dives—how many years per dive had it been again? Now look at him: running to Nantong whenever he had free time, and heading straight into the river the moment he arrived. "Oh, right, Xiaoyuan. Remember when you mentioned on the phone that a great secret is buried in the Ghost City of Fengdu, and that you'd go back there once you're older?" "Yes. That'll have to wait until I grow up. Do you want to come along, Brother Liangliang?" "Of course! You have to call me when the time comes. But you'd better grow up fast, and once you do, don't drag your feet too long. Otherwise..." "Otherwise what?" Xue Liangliang shrugged. "Otherwise, the Ghost City might get flooded." "Is that so? I understand." "Remember—" "I know, Brother Liangliang. I'll keep it confidential." "Haha, then I'll be off." After Xue Liangliang departed, Li Zhuiyuan returned to his room and examined the bamboo slips. The capacity of bamboo slips to hold text was inherently limited, so there weren't many characters, and they recorded not deeds or methods, but locations. There were nine locations in total, of which Li Zhuiyuan could identify only three. There was no helping it; the slips had been inscribed during the Spring and Autumn period, and the source material copied onto them might have been older still. The geographical terms bore no resemblance to modern ones, and the exact whereabouts of certain names remained a subject of intense debate among historians—to say nothing of the effects of geological shifts over time. Of the three confirmed locations, one was the mysterious seabed that both the masked man and Zheng Haiyang's parents had visited. Another was the Ghost City of Fengdu. The last one appeared to lie in today's plateau region, somewhere near Nyingchi. Li Zhuiyuan transcribed the contents of the bamboo slips. Since he was heading to the capital soon anyway, he could consult the retired scholars living in the faculty compound to help analyze and verify the locations. Along with the slips, Xue Liangliang had brought a massive stack of specialized books, as well as gunnysacks packed with various blueprints and design drafts. Li Zhuiyuan couldn't help but feel a touch of warmth. Even in his impatience, Brother Liangliang had gone out of his way to prepare all this for him. It had truly been no small feat. Because they were flying to the capital merely to take an exam and return shortly thereafter, Li Sanjiang wasn't worried. If he hadn't known Xiaoyuanhou had grown up in the capital, he would have urged the school to space out the return flight so they could enjoy a sightseeing trip on public funds. *** Accompanied by Wu Xinhan and Teacher Yan, Li Zhuiyuan arrived in the capital and checked into the hotel designated by the Olympiad committee. The following morning, Li Zhuiyuan woke early, though the exam was not scheduled until the afternoon. Wu Xinhan asked with concern, "Xiaoyuan, feeling nervous?" Li Zhuiyuan shook his head, pulling out his breakfast vouchers. "Time to eat." In the dining hall, pairs of teachers and students were plentiful, along with several members of the competition committee. The hotel had thoughtfully prepared authentic Beijing-style fermented bean juice, which many out-of-towners queued up to try. Sipping his warm milk, Li Zhuiyuan watched Principal Wu and Teacher Yan pick up their bowls, watched them lower their heads with eager anticipation to take a sip, and finally watched them spit it right back out. Even so, Wu Xinhan and Teacher Yan hesitated to jump to conclusions about the flavor, wondering if they had simply drunk it the wrong way. They each took another sip, forcing it down this time. The lingering aftertaste, however, caused both men's eyes to squint and their faces to scrunch up like crumpled paper. Wu Xinhan couldn't resist asking, "Xiaoyuan, is this fermented bean juice truly authentic?" Li Zhuiyuan nodded. "Authentic." "Really? Xiaoyuan, do you want a taste?" Li Zhuiyuan shook his head. "No need. Looking at your faces, I know it's authentic." "No, what's good about this?" Teacher Yan said, utterly baffled. "I'd rather switch to teaching Chinese than drink this every morning." Li Zhuiyuan said, "Actually, not many locals drink it either." Wu Xinhan asked, "Then how does it stay in business?" Li Zhuiyuan replied, "They sell it to tourists." Wu Xinhan and Teacher Yan were left speechless. Just then, an elderly man flanked by three companions walked past, all wearing badges of the competition committee. The old man caught sight of the boy, frowned slightly, and walked over of his own accord. "Xiaoyuan?" Li Zhuiyuan stood up and looked at the elder. "Professor Zhu." "You're back in the capital? Wait, what are you doing here?" "I'm here for the competition." "What competition?" Li Zhuiyuan pointed at the committee badge on the elder's chest. Professor Zhu understood. A breath seized in his throat, and only after a long pause did he bark, "Utter nonsense!" Wu Xinhan and Teacher Yan stood up as well, inquiring about the elder's identity while handing over their business cards to introduce themselves. Professor Zhu exchanged brief courtesies, pulled up a chair nearby, and sat down. Looking at Li Zhuiyuan, he asked, "What on earth have you been doing these past six months?" "Going to school." "Studying in high school?" "Yes." *Studying how to retrieve dead-flippers.* Professor Zhu closed his eyes, suppressing his rage. Because the old professor was sitting there, it drew considerable attention, and people passing by began heading over as well. More and more prominent figures gathered around, until Wu Xinhan and Teacher Yan were quietly squeezed over to the neighboring table. Among those now seated around Li Zhuiyuan, three were professors who had personally taught him, alongside several senior schoolmates. Upon learning that Li Zhuiyuan was here to take the exam, one of the seniors laughed and swore, "Then what's the point of testing? Just hand him the award directly!" The seniors weren't contestants; they were staff on the competition committee. Professor Zhu finally settled his temper and suggested, "How about you skip the exam and let the committee grant you an honorary award?" Li Zhuiyuan looked toward Principal Wu and Teacher Yan at the neighboring table. Both were nodding eagerly. "No. I want to take it." Just as Professor Zhu was about to lose his temper, the two professors beside him held him back, telling Li Zhuiyuan, "Just this once. Only this once!" Li Zhuiyuan nodded. "Alright." The professors then began urging the boy to return and resume his university studies. When they learned he had already been admitted to Haihe University, looks of blank bewilderment washed over their faces. In the end, Li Zhuiyuan had to bring out an adapted version of Xue Liangliang's rhetoric about "my future lies in the great southwest of the motherland," which finally left them with no counterargument. *** The afternoon exam proceeded without a hitch. Once finished, Li Zhuiyuan had Wu Xinhan and Teacher Yan hail a taxi to take him to the faculty compound. The moment they entered the compound, joyful voices of the elders rang out: "Oh my, Xiaoyuan! Where have you been these past six months?" "Isn't this Xiaoyuan? Ha, haven't seen you in so long—you've grown taller!" In the past, Li Zhuiyuan had eaten meals across countless households in the compound, maintaining wonderful relationships with the elders. Many of them treated him like their own grandson. Before long, however, another piece of news spread among the elders: "Xiaoyuan, did you come back with your mother?" "Must have! I saw his mother back this morning." Li Lan had returned? Li Zhuiyuan delivered the transcribed bamboo slip texts to a retired history professor surnamed Zhang, leaving his current contact information. There were scholars of ancient Chinese and geography in the compound as well, and Li Zhuiyuan knew Grandpa Zhang would rally his friends on his own. Having accomplished his purpose for visiting the compound, Li Zhuiyuan asked Wu Xinhan to take him away. He had no desire to see Li Lan, and he was confident Li Lan had no wish to see him either. Yet the boy was mistaken. The moment he stepped out of Grandpa Zhang's doorway, he saw Li Lan standing there in a brown trench coat. Beside her stood several elders from the compound, their faces brimming with fond smiles. Li Lan lightly brushed back a strand of hair, wearing a warm, gentle smile. Bending down toward the boy, she opened her arms wide. "Son, come here to Mommy. Mommy missed you."