Folklore and Strange Tales: At the Start, You Retrieve the Sea-Suppressing Black Iron

Chapter 143 The Ghost Soldiers of Desheng Gate Borrow Passage, The Iron Hook for Retrieving Corpses Severs the Bronze Gong

"Don't rush the car."

Cheng Xiaojin placed the walkie-talkie on his lap, his left arm dangling down over the car door, the blue thread under the bandage creeping along the tendon towards his elbow.

As the car sped past the intersection of Huguosi Street, fog pushed in from both sides, and the streetlights receded one after another, their shades filled with moisture.

Tieguai Li sat in the back row, with the rolled-up steel pipe across his lap, and glanced at his arm.

"If we climb any higher, we'll have to rely on Young Master Han to feed us noodles for free."

Han Shaobai leaned against the car window, his wrist still wrapped in bandages, his face turning green instantly.

"I have no problem feeding Brother Cheng, but I'm afraid he'll complain that I don't put enough meat in his food."

Cheng Xiaojin did not turn around.

"This won't wait until my hand is ruined; the whole of Beijing will know you mistreated me."

"Brother Cheng, you—"

Tong Kexin's voice came through the walkie-talkie.

"Stop being silly, we're almost at the noodle shop. If that old man doesn't leave, I'll hit him with a ladle."

Zhou Banxian coughed twice in Master Ma's courtyard, and the compass case knocked against the edge of the table.

"Old Tan has strict rules; he doesn't retrieve corpses but not living people. We need Cheng Xiaojin to speak up."

Cheng Xiaojin pressed the intercom button.

"Mystic, is Deshengmen still worth seeing?"

"We can't see the mouth of the river, we can only see the water vapor. The water under the bridge flows south, goes around the bottom of the pool, and its tail reaches the ash well at Master Ma's Courtyard."

Master Ma's voice followed, deep and hard.

"The black smoke from the gray well hasn't reached the courtyard yet. Xiao Jin, don't block it under the bridge. The funeral procession is for the dead. If you block one line on the ground, there will be a second line underneath."

Cheng Xiaojin saw the Huguo Temple archway emerge from the mist.

"Know."

"Before listening to the iron, it's important to listen to the person. Old Tan lived in the water for sixty years."

The car stopped in front of the noodle shop, the tires running over a puddle of black water, on which floated half a piece of paper money, with a wet red mark on it.

The lights were still on in the noodle shop, and the owner was pulling the door panel inside. A thin old man sat at a table against the wall, his black cloth shoes were covered in mud, and the sleeves of his cotton-padded jacket were rolled up to his forearms. On the table was a half-empty bottle of Erguotou (a type of Chinese liquor), and a bowl of noodles with soybean paste that hadn't been mixed properly, with cucumber shreds neatly arranged around the edge of the bowl.

Beside his feet lay an iron hook, its tip tarnished, its shank wrapped with an old copper rope coiled in hemp cloth, smelling of river mud.

Cheng Xiaojin walked to the table.

"Tan Laohe?"

The old man picked up a mouthful of noodles, chewed it, and then looked up.

"Whose child are you?"

"Cheng Shouyi's son."

The chopsticks stopped in mid-air. The old man looked at his hand, then at the blue line on his left arm, and his wrinkles deepened.

"Are all the Cheng family's hands like this?"

Cheng Xiaojin pulled over a stool and sat down.

"It used to be better, but now there's more work."

Tieguai Li reached out to touch the iron hook, but the old man flicked it with the tip of his chopsticks, and it landed right in front of the back of his hand.

"The hook for retrieving corpses must never leave the master's hand."

Tieguai Li withdrew his hand.

"Even a broken hook has a temper."

The old man took a sip of his drink.

"Things that have no temper underwater can't float to the surface."

Tong Kexin came in through the door, a flat teapot hanging from her waist, a curved spoon tucked into her bag, and her hair damp with mist.

"The funeral procession under Deshengmen Bridge has opened, and bronze-armored ghost soldiers have come ashore. If you finish this bowl of noodles, the street outside will be sending you off to a funeral."

Tan Laohe glanced at her.

"The Tong family's braised pork at Huguo Temple?"

Tong Kexin's fingers tightened.

"Do you recognize my house?"

"Your dad's car overturned on the banks of the Yongding River when he was young. I pulled him out. Back then, he still owed me half a jin of braised pork."

Tong Kexin put the spoon on the table.

"I'll fix it."

Tan Laohe shook his head.

"The dead cannot have their debts repaired by the living, but favors owed to the living can be made through water."

Cheng Xiaojin pushed the receipt from the delivery uniform at Deshengmen over.

"Is there a gong underwater?"

Tan Laohe raised his eyelids slightly.

Did you hear that?

"There's a horn in the sound of treading water, so low it's ear-piercing."

The old man picked up the receipt; the water stains were shrinking back along the edge of the paper. He leaned closer and smelled it; the smell of alcohol was mixed with the mud from the dead river.

"The stagnant water beneath the River God Temple six hundred years ago, with the funeral procession route opened up like this, must have had something to guide the procession, whether it was a gong or a water clapper, there must have been something to lead the procession."

Han Shaobai squeezed in, clutching the account book.

How much would it cost to hire you?

Tan Laohe looked at him.

"You smell like money."

Han Shaobai immediately straightened his chest.

"This is my specialty."

The old man held up three fingers.

"Three things: a bottle of undiluted Erguotou (a type of Chinese liquor), a bowl of hot noodles that you can still eat when you get back, and whatever you see underwater, I won't tell you when we get ashore, so don't ask."

Cheng Xiaojin nodded.

"become."

Tang Wanqing took a step forward.

"If you go down alone, the yin energy will fill your lungs; you must leave a way to survive."

Tan Laohe grabbed the wine bottle and slammed the bottom of it on the table.

"I don't use women's lines when I go into the water."

Tang Wanqing pulled out a red thread and threaded an old copper coin onto the end of the thread.

"If you don't act as matchmaker, I'll get acupuncture at the Feishu point, and then you can carry me down."

Tieguai Li grinned.

"Grandpa, listen to her, she doesn't haggle when she pricks people."

Tan Laohe stared at Tang Wanqing for a moment.

"The Zhenlong lineage?"

Tang Wanqing didn't answer, but handed over the copper coins.

"The red thread remains on the shore, the copper coin is tied around my waist. Even if you don't recognize me, I will still recognize your spirit."

The old man hoisted the copper rope onto his shoulder.

"You're not going to do anything about that Cheng family brat?"

Cheng Xiaojin got up and put the receipt back into Han Shaobai's arms.

"I'm only concerned with the gong underwater right now. If you want to argue with her, wait until the ghost soldiers have finished dismantling the bridge."

Tan Laohe finally smiled, revealing a few teeth stained yellow by tobacco and alcohol.

"Just like your father, always saying the most infuriating things when it's time to get a beating."

Zhou Banxian's voice came through the walkie-talkie.

"Xiao Jin, three of the streetlights at Deshengmen are broken. If the fourth one falls, the ghost soldiers will be able to use the lampposts to build a floating bridge."

Cheng Xiaojin picked up the walkie-talkie.

"The town's security bureau should move back a hundred meters away and avoid using high beams, as the lights will cast shadows on the water."

The agent responded immediately.

"clear."

The owner placed a bowl of fresh noodles upside down on the table, steam rising into the air.

Tan Laohe walked to the door without turning back.

"Give me a lid, so it doesn't clump together."

Tong Kexin took off the deflated aluminum kettle and placed it upside down next to the noodle bowl.

"A teapot won't cost you your life, it can at least keep you from getting too hot."

Tan Laohe glanced at the teapot that had been dented by the ruler.

"Having eaten the Yin Chi (a type of poisonous insect), he still dares to press noodles; he has backbone."

As Cheng Xiaojingang stepped out the door, his left arm slumped down, and Tang Wanqing grabbed his elbow, causing the needle under the medicated cloth to twitch twice.

"I just heard the receipt again."

"I didn't hear it in detail."

"If you lie to me again, I'll stick a needle in your mouth."

Cheng Xiaojin raised his right hand.

"Pricking the mouth affects command."

Tong Kexin walked past her.

"He makes a living by talking, but his ears are the real trouble."

Tieguai Li opened the car door.

"Get the troublemaker on board, quickly."

The convoy turned north, the fog rolled along the road, and the sound of bronze armor clashing from the direction of Deshengmen came from several streets away. Waves crashed on the shore, and the crisp sound of lampposts being snapped by long spears was mixed with the shouts of the control team.

An urgent report came through the walkie-talkie.

"The first line of defense has retreated to 120 meters south of the bridge. Three people were injured, and firearms were ineffective. The underwater robot is preparing to enter the ditch."

Cheng Xiaojin pressed the intercom button.

"Don't put it down."

The sound of motors could already be heard over there, and the operator hurriedly explained.

"Section Chief Zhou said to test the water depth, use a cable, and not enter the main ditch."

Cheng Xiaojin closed his eyes and put the walkie-talkie to his ear.

Five breaths later, the operator's phone transmitted the image back. A row of copper-armored feet were exposed in the black water. Then, several white fingers pinched the lens, the screen went black, and a muffled thud came from the other end of the cable. The entire roll of steel cable was dragged half a meter underwater.

Tan Laohe glanced at it through the car window.

"Send metal lunchboxes into the water."

Tieguai Li raised an eyebrow.

"Are robots considered corpses too?"

"Once you reach that path, everyone who can walk is considered part of the team."

Cheng Xiaojin pressed the intercom button.

"Cut the cable, don't pull it."

"The equipment is expensive."

Han Shaobai peeked out and shouted.

"I'll pay, that's the end of it."

After the steel cable was cut, a series of delicate copper bell sounds came from the water, and the silhouette of Deshengmen Bridge emerged from the mist.

The old ditch under the bridge was filled with black water, and rows of bronze armored soldiers emerged from the water. At the front, several ghostly soldiers climbed ashore, their bronze armor covered with tattered cloth and water plants, their long spears dragging on the ground, the tips of the spears carving long grooves in the asphalt road.

Three lampposts fell, and a fourth one was chopped down by a ghostly soldier wielding a halberd. More armor plates were pouring out of the underpass.

Zhou Banxian stood a hundred meters away, holding a compass, his nose covered in sweat. Just as he aimed the compass at the bridge below, a crack appeared on the surface, the needle popped out and embedded itself in the trunk of a nearby locust tree.

Zhou Banxian took two steps back, his wrist going numb.

"This isn't just three streams of water vapor; it's like stuffing a funeral procession into an old ditch."

Mr. Ma's call came through the channel.

"Don't let them cut down the light poles; if the light poles fall into the water, they'll become a floating bridge."

Tieguai Li was about to charge forward with the steel pipe on his back when Tang Wanqing handed him a handful of silver needles.

"Do the nail seam, not the nail surface."

Tieguai Li looked at the needle.

"You want me to use an embroidery needle to fight ghost soldiers?"

"If you hit the nail surface with a steel pipe, you'll only scratch its back."

When Cheng Xiaojin got out of the car, his left leg went weak, and he had to use his right hand to support himself on the roof of the car to keep steady.

Tan Laohe took off his cotton-padded coat, revealing his old vest underneath, his ribs pressing against his skin. He unscrewed the cap of a bottle of Erguotou (a type of Chinese liquor), tilted his head back, and poured half a bottle down his throat, the liquor flowing down his chin and into his chest.

Han Shaobai stared in disbelief.

"Sir, is this... a pre-work injury warm-up?"

Tan Laohe handed him the wine bottle.

"The water is cold, and wine doesn't keep you warm, but it does bolster your courage."

Han Shaobai looked down at the mouth of the bottle.

"May I have a sip?"

Tieguai Li kicked his shin.

"You're going into the water?"

"I'll keep the accounts to muster up my courage."

Cheng Xiaojin pushed Han Shaobai to the back of the car.

"Go and keep the book, write down that the Deshengmen funeral road is open, but the dead are not allowed to pass until the living are being escorted."

Han Shaobai opened the account book, his wrist aching so much that the pen tip trembled.

"Will writing it out even work?"

"Being in the right comes first, then fighting; even if you win a fight when you're in the wrong, you still have to pay the price."

Tong Kexin arrived carrying a long ladle, followed by two neighbors from Huguosi carrying half a bucket of soot and a bag of cold buns.

She saw the ghostly soldiers under the bridge, and her face darkened.

"Do you eat this stuff with the broth?"

Cheng Xiaojin shook his head.

"They listen to the gong, but they don't eat."

"Then who should I splash?"

"When splashing water, don't let the black water lick the feet of living people."

Tong Kexin scattered a layer of soot along the control line. As soon as the soot hit the ground, the thin stream of black water that had been flowing out immediately receded, and a few wisps of foul smoke rose up.

The ghostly soldiers under the bridge raised their long spears and slashed at the ash-covered walls. Tieguai Li rushed up from the side, his steel pipe wedging itself into the crook of the enemy's elbow. Tang Wanqing flicked out a red thread, and a silver needle pierced the seam of the copper armor.

The needle's tip turned black, and the ghost soldiers' movements were a beat slower.

Taking advantage of this moment, Tieguai Li pushed off the ground with his prosthetic leg, using the steel pipe to knock the ghostly soldier back to the water's edge.

"Is Shen Jiulou installing a security door for a dead person?"

A second ghostly soldier came up from the side, his long spear sweeping across Tieguai Li's waist.

Cheng Xiaojin raised his hand to point the way, but his left arm was too heavy to lift. Tang Wanqing patted his shoulder from behind.

"No hands allowed."

Cheng Xiaojin looked at the peeling old cement on the outer layer of the bridge pier and the rusted steel bars exposed inside.

"I won't use my hands, I'll use the bridge."

Tang Wanqing's face darkened, and Tan Laohe spoke first.

"Let him touch you."

Tang Wanqing stared at him as Tan Laohe wrapped the copper rope around his waist.

"There are no eyes underwater. I need him to listen to my directions. If you stop him, then find another person who can hear the iron voice for six hundred years."

Cheng Xiaojin touched the steel bar with the back of his wrist through the medicated cloth, and Xin Jingang probed inside, his throat immediately tasting metallic.

Tang Wanqing pressed three silver needles into his shoulder, the needle ends bending down.

"In half an hour, I will cut off your Xin metal."

Cheng Xiaojin smiled. "Is this enough for Master Tan to go buy some groceries?"

Tan Laohe bit the iron hook and mumbled a reply.

"If buying groceries isn't enough, pulling the gong is."

He handed the other end of the copper rope to Tieguai Li.

"Don't pull, unless I knock on the rope three times."

Tieguai Li wrapped the copper rope around his waist and then around the lamppost that hadn't fallen.

"Two times?"

"Something underwater is mimicking me."

"What about around here?"

Tan Laohe stood by the ditch, the black water licking up to his feet.

"The surrounding area indicates I'm dead, don't try to retrieve me."

Tong Kexin slammed the long spoon on the ground.

"Stop saying such unlucky things, we're still keeping our faces covered."

The old man turned to look at her.

"Don't let that kid surnamed Cheng eat that bowl of noodles."

Cheng Xiaojin raised an eyebrow.

"Do I look that poor?"

Tan Laohe bit the iron hook and plunged into the water.

The black water closed, and a dozen pale arms emerged from the surface, their hair wrapped in copper chains. Iron-Crutch Li felt a sinking sensation around his waist and his feet moved forward.

Slippery, Tong Kexin sprinkled the soot from the pot in front of his feet.

"Stepping on dust".

Tieguai Li stepped into the gray line, white smoke billowing from the sole of his shoe, and finally came to his senses.

The rhythm of the gong under the bridge began to quicken, and the ghostly soldiers who climbed ashore simultaneously raised their halberds. The three in the front row stood side by side, while the two in the back row raised the broken lampposts, preparing to set them up in the center of the black water.

The officers from the town's property bureau held their guns, their fingers on the triggers, but dared not fire.

"Mr. Cheng, we can't stop it."

Cheng Xiaojin pressed his left arm against the steel bar, and the sound of old iron from the bridge pier drilled into his ears through his bones. The sound of corpse hands grabbing ropes, the sound of copper armor dragging mud, and the sound of undercurrents hitting rocks all squeezed into his eardrums.

He searched for the gong amidst the noise.

One after another, the sound of gongs was hidden deeper underwater, and with each gong, the footsteps of the ghostly soldiers would synchronize.

Cheng Xiaojin shouted at Tieguai Li.

"Place the rope three feet to the left, but don't taut it; there's a corpse's hand nest on the right."

Tieguai Li immediately loosened the rope, and the copper rope slid to the left. Several white hands in the water missed their target, leaving behind a circle of black bubbles.

Cheng Xiaojin shouted again.

"Master Tan, there are sloping stones underfoot. Don't step on the shiny surface, or you'll step on the muddy one."

The copper cable trembled slightly.

There was no light underwater. Tan Laohe sank down, biting the iron hook. A white face floated past him. The face had no eyes and its mouth was open, as if it wanted to call his name.

The old man pressed the tip of his tongue against the iron hook, but did not respond.

According to the rules of corpse retrievers, even if a mother calls out a name underwater, she will not answer.

Cheng Xiaojin's voice came through the steel bars of the bridge pier and landed on the copper cable.

"Three feet to the left, avoid the bright stone; two feet down, there is a threshold."

Tan Laohe reached out and touched a section of stone embankment lying across the mud. Behind the embankment, a cold current pierced to the bone. Several bronze-armored corpses knelt in the mud, their heads facing the same direction.

The sound of gongs came from that direction.

On the shore, the front row of ghost soldiers stepped half a step past the soot line. Tong Kexin tore open a cold bun, dipped the bun skin in ash, and threw it at the feet of the ghost soldiers.

"Don't sit at the table if we didn't bring you food for the living."

As soon as the dumpling skin touched the water, the black water receded by one finger, the ghost soldiers' steps faltered for a moment, and they were pulled back into formation by the sound of the gong.

Tieguai Li used a steel pipe to wedge the knee of a ghost soldier. The end of the pipe touched the copper armor, and the body of the pipe curled up again. He then pulled out a roll of scrap iron wire from his toolbox.

"Tang Wanqing, where is the nail seam?"

Tang Wanqing's fingers were covered in black marks. She tied the last piece of red thread to the end of the silver needle and examined it for a moment by the car headlights.

"Under the armpits, behind the knees, and on the right side of the neck, avoid wrapping around the nail surface and the joints."

"You should have said so earlier, I specialize in treating joint problems."

Tieguai Li coiled the scrap iron wire into a loop, and as the ghost soldiers raised their halberds, he passed the wire under his armpit. He then pulled the wire in and wedged it into the seam of the copper armor. He used a steel pipe as a winch to tighten it, and the ghost soldiers' bodies emitted a muffled sound, slowing their movements.

Han Shaobai squatted behind the car writing accounts, his pen trembling and ink splattering everywhere.

"Brother Cheng, what do you do when a dead person can't read?"

Cheng Xiaojin did not turn around.

"They don't recognize it, but the gong does."

Mr. Ma answered the call on the walkie-talkie.

"Make it clear that the funeral procession will not be held if the funeral hall is not set up, the obituary is not issued, and there is no filial son leading the way."

Han Shaobai quickly added the missing characters.

How do you write the word "obituary"?

Tieguai Li roared as he twisted the wire.

"If you can't write it, just write that there's no blank paper pasted on it."

Han Shaobai immediately put pen to paper.

"No white paper was pasted on it."

There was a pause on Master Ma's end.

"Alright."

The water under the bridge churned even more violently, the copper cable suddenly tightened, and Tieguai Li was pulled forward and fell.

Tang Wanqing rushed over and wrapped the copper rope with a red thread. The thread turned black as soon as it touched the moisture.

"He's got entangled."

Cheng Xiaojin heard a clump of hair wrapped around Tan Laohe's ankle underwater, and several hands emerged from the mud, grabbing his waist, amidst turbulent bubbles.

A string of them, but the iron hook hadn't even reached the gong yet.

Cheng Xiaojin pressed his left arm against the steel bar, and the blue line crossed the elbow crease.

The silver needle in Tang Wanqing's hand almost broke.

"Cheng Xiaojin".

"Master Tan, don't hook forward, hook the piece of wood under your left foot."

The copper cable transmitted two slight vibrations.

Tan Laohe, submerged in the water, spit out an iron hook from his mouth, and with the hook tip probing into the mud at his feet, he hooked a piece of black wood.

As soon as the log was pulled up, half of the hair binding her feet loosened.

It's a coffin board.

Tan Laohe pushed the coffin lid forward, and all the corpse hands in the water rushed up to it. He used this opportunity to sink down, his chest aching from the pressure, and all he could hear was Cheng Xiaojin's intermittent guidance.

"Go down, two feet to the right, and don't touch that string of copper coins."

Tan Laohe touched a string of copper coins, then immediately withdrew his finger. The bottom of the coins had a round side buried in the silt, and the edges were still vibrating.

Gong.

It was about half a person's width wide, with most of the gong surface covered by mud, leaving only a ring of the edge exposed. With each tremor, the ghostly soldiers in the water would take a step towards the shore in unison.

Tan Laohe chiseled the iron hook into the edge of the gong, and it slid off on the first try.

The sound of gongs on the shore quickened, and three ghostly soldiers had already carried the broken lamppost to the water's edge. They could build a pontoon bridge just half a zhang further ahead.

Tong Kexin rushed over with a long spoon and smashed the whole bag of buns onto the water's edge.

"Why are you accepting food when we haven't even come to your house?"

Blackwater bit the tip of her shoe, and Cheng Xiaojin immediately shouted upon hearing it.

"Kexin, please withdraw."

Tong Kexin gritted her teeth and took a half step back. She stuck the spoon handle into a crack in the ground, pulled her foot out, and found that the sole of her shoe was already blackened.

Han Shaobai held up the account book.

"If the paper is written but not pasted on, and there is no filial son, the funeral cannot be held."

The ink on the ledger pages absorbed into the paper, and the sound of the gong under the bridge was interrupted.

With this one strike, Tan Laohe chiseled the iron hook into the edge of the gong for the second time, the hook tip gripping the copper. The old man braced his feet against the rocks at the bottom of the water, and the copper rope stretched into an arc around his waist.

Cheng Xiaojin pressed himself against the bridge pier, his ears ringing so loudly they felt black.

He heard a faint sound behind the gong. A piece of iron was stuck on the back of the gong, being washed back and forth by the water. The iron's sound was heavy, and it was of the same origin as the iron from Manzhen and Haidian, carrying the old sound of the character "路".

Cheng Xiaojin's lips moved slightly.

"There's iron behind the gong, don't throw it away."

The needle in Tang Wanqing's hand stopped behind his shoulder.

"You still want him to retrieve something?"

Cheng Xiaojin's throat was filled with a metallic taste.

"That's a fragment of a road regulation. Shen Jiulou had Luo lead the troops, and the iron piece guided him."

Master Ma asked in a deep voice.

"Can it be broken?"

"able."

Cheng Xiaojin shouted as he rinsed the water.

"Master Tan, pry open the edge of the gong, but don't pull out the whole thing. There's an iron plate on the back; hook it and move it together."

Underwater, Tan Laohe's left hand touched the iron plate behind the gong. The edge of the iron plate cut open his palm, and as soon as blood came out, the surrounding corpse hands swarmed around him again.

He pressed the iron sheet into the bend of the iron hook and then kicked with both feet.

The copper cable on the shore creaked as Tieguai Li wrapped it around his waist and called for two more officers to pull it together.

"Don't pull yourself too hard, just follow the flow."

The front ranks of the ghostly soldiers had pressed in within ten paces, their long spears sweeping across the area, carrying a stench of water.

Tang Wanqing tossed the bag of discarded needles to Tieguai Li.

"Needle pack inserted into the joint."

Tieguai Li caught it, aimed at the knee of a ghost soldier, stuffed the whole bag of blackened curved needles into it, and pushed it up with a steel pipe.

The ghostly soldier got stuck in the knees, kneeling halfway down, and the soldiers behind him bumped into him, causing the formation to break half a step.

Cheng Xiaojin heard a cracking sound coming from the gong underwater.

"Pull again."

Tan Laohe's shoulders and back were pulled tight by the underwater force, and a last string of bubbles escaped from his throat as the iron hook and the edge of the gong were lifted outwards.

The muffled thud rose from beneath everyone's feet.

All the ghostly soldiers under the bridge stopped at the same time.

The edge of the gong was pried off the clay base by an iron hook, and the sound of the gong lost its source. The long spears raised by the ghost soldiers in the front row hung in mid-air, and the two bronze armored figures carrying the lamp poles in the back row collided with each other, causing the lamp poles to fall to the ground and shatter a splash of water.

Cheng Xiaojin's voice became hoarse from shouting.

"Iron Pillar".

Tieguai Li had already thrown out the barbed wire, covering the three ghost soldiers in the front row. The mesh of the net got stuck in the gaps in their armor, and the two agents pulled them back with him, dragging the three ghost soldiers to their knees.

Tang Wanqing rushed forward, her silver needles stained with blood, and placed one needle each under her armpit, behind her knee, and on the right side of her neck.

The needle pierced the seam, and a muffled sound came from inside the bronze armor, completely jamming the joints of the three ghost soldiers.

Tong Kexin sprinkled the last handful of soot at their feet.

"You dare to ask for a way in from someone who's already living? Who's going to give you any face?"

Han Shaobai sat in the back of the car, his wrists aching so much he couldn't lift them high, but he still spread the account book out on his knees to fill in the words.

"The ghostly soldiers at Deshengmen were trying to pass through, but the gong broke, the procession failed, and the pontoon bridge could not be built."

After the characters were written, the row of bronze armor on the water's surface was completely messed up.

After the gongs stopped, the ghostly soldiers went their separate ways. Some climbed ashore, some retreated to the bridge arch, and a few carried long spears and circled in place, unable to find the head of the procession.

Tieguai Li, panting, looked at the three ghostly soldiers trapped in the net.

"Without a gong to guide you, even a security door will get lost."

Cheng Xiaojin didn't laugh; his ear was still pressed against the bridge pier.

The underwater copper cable has loosened.

Tang Wanqing turned pale and rushed to the water's edge.

"Tan Laohe?"

Tong Kexin grabbed a long ladle to probe the water, but Cheng Xiaojin raised his right hand to stop her. He stared at the water, his left arm hanging down, the entire sleeve filled with iron.

"He's coming up, and something's following him."

Tieguai Li tightened the copper rope again.

"To pull or not?"

"Wait for him to knock."

A thin hand emerged from the water, its palm slashed open by a piece of iron, blood spreading in the black water.

Then Tan Laohe burst out of the water, choking on a mouthful of black mud. He didn't let anyone pull him up, and instead raised his right hand.

A half-circle of bronze gong edge hangs on the iron hook, the bronze surface cracked with a slanted opening, and a palm-sized piece of iron is stuck behind the opening.

The iron sheet was dark and heavy, with old patterns worn into its edges by water polishing, and the character "路" (road) was engraved in the middle.

Tan Laohe raised his hand and tapped the copper chain three times.

Tieguai Li and the two agents worked together to drag the man ashore.

As soon as Tan Laohe left the water, the black water under the bridge immediately receded, and several white hands grabbed the soot line, burning and emitting foul smoke.

Tong Kexin shoved the deflated aluminum kettle into his hand.

"If you can't drink the soup, first calm your nerves."

Tan Laohe lay on the ground, coughing up two mouthfuls of muddy, black blood, and pushed the aluminum kettle back.

"noodle."

Han Shaobai was stunned.

"What?"

Tan Laohe raised his head, his eyes were full of tears, but he still had a stubborn mouth.

"Noodles without tarts."

Cheng Xiaojin leaned against the bridge pier and chuckled. Halfway through his laugh, he coughed up a metallic taste of blood, then swallowed it back down.

Tang Wanqing tore open the bandage and saw the blue line above his elbow; her face darkened completely.

"You've gone too far."

Cheng Xiaojin hid his left arm behind his back.

"The lights were off just now, you must have been mistaken."

Tang Wanqing didn't reply, but instead stuck a needle into his shoulder, the end of the needle bending into a half-circle.

Cheng Xiaojin didn't make sarcastic remarks this time; sweat dripped from his forehead into the black water at the foot of the bridge pier as he turned his head to listen.

The sound of flowing water could be heard from the inscription on the road, which led north, then turned south, bypassed a pool of water, and then cut diagonally into an old, dark ditch.

The sound of a wooden crate made of agarwood from Southeast Asia came from the end of the ditch.

The weariness in Cheng Xiaojin's eyes faded slightly.

"The box moved along this road."

"Master Ma asked over the walkie-talkie."

"Can you determine the direction?"

Cheng Xiaojin gestured for Han Shaobai to spread out the map.

Han Shaobai endured the pain in his wrist and laid the map of the old ditch in Beicheng on the car hood. As soon as the map touched the iron sheet, the water in the engravings of the road characters flowed along the paper.

The waterline starts under the Deshengmen Bridge, bypasses the main ditch, enters a thin blue line marked as abandoned, and finally stops in a blank area north-northeast of Andingmen.

That area had no name; it was just a drawing of an unfinished building foundation.

Zhou Banxian approached, leaning on his cracked compass. He glanced at it, and his face twitched.

"This place has been sealed off for more than ten years, and an old drainage gate was buried under the foundation."

Tieguai Li hoisted the chipped steel pipe onto his shoulder.

"Shen Jiulou hides in unfinished buildings; his taste is even worse than that of the bridge arches in Panjiayuan."

Tan Laohe sat on the ground, took the towel handed to him by the operative, and wiped his face.

There's another sentence underwater.

Cheng Xiaojin turned his head.

"You just said you wouldn't ask."

"You didn't ask, so I'll tell you myself."

Tan Laohe turned the edge of the gong over, and there was a fine engraving on the back of the gong where it was sealed with mud, but it was so old that it was almost impossible to see.

He wiped away the mud with his thumb, revealing four characters.

He borrowed a living name from the road.

Han Shaobai's face turned pale.

"After the road regulations, are the naming regulations next?"

There was a moment of silence on Master Ma's end.

"Take the metal sheet back to the hospital—no, don't take it back to the hospital."

Cheng Xiaojin looked towards the direction of Master Ma's courtyard. In the distance, a cloud of black smoke loomed on the horizon; that was the location of the Ash Well.

When Master Ma spoke again, his voice was lower.

"The black smoke from the gray well has turned red."

As soon as he finished speaking, the ledger in Han Shaobai's arms turned to a new page on its own.

The bamboo tube containing the red seal tapped against his chest, and instead of the red seal's aura, a wisp of black smoke seeped from the opening.

Black smoke crawled out two wet characters on the pages.

Buy a name.