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

Chapter 144 Cracked Red Stamp Buys a Living Name at Night, Gray Account Pages Seal Halfway

"Buy a name?"

Han Shaobai pushed the account book out as if it were too hot to handle, and then quickly pulled it back halfway through.

The bamboo tube was still tucked in his arms.

Black smoke seeping from the nozzle clung to the ledger pages, the two characters for "buyer's name" creeping deeper and deeper, leaving fine, rough edges on the paper.

Tieguai Li bent down and glanced at it.

"This thing is quite picky; it always targets the most cowardly people."

Han Shao's face turned green.

"Brother Li, I may be a coward, but I haven't listed my name on any second-hand platform."

Cheng Xiaojin leaned against the bridge pier, his right hand gripping the edge of the metal plate with the character "路" (road), not daring to touch the front.

With his left arm hanging at his side, the blue thread under the medicated cloth crossed the elbow crease and climbed up along the tendons of his forearm.

Tang Wanqing did not retract the silver needle in her hand; the needle tip remained suspended in front of his shoulder.

She looked at the account book.

"Don't let the red stamp come out of the tube."

"I know."

Han Shaobai tucked the bamboo tube into his clothes, then, realizing it wasn't a good idea, quickly pulled it out. "It's not safe to put it in my clothes. If it covers my stomach, am I a person or a receipt?"

Tong Kexin squatted by the soot line, her shoes covered in black grime, supporting herself with a bent spoon.

"Shao Bai, stop joking around, put your ID card away."

Han Shaobai frantically rummaged through his pockets, pulled out his wallet, two invoices, and his ID card.

The moment the ID card appeared, the black smoke on the ledger page rose an inch, as if it were smelling something and probing forward.

Cheng Xiaojin raised his hand.

"Don't take it out."

Han Shaobai immediately put his ID card back in his pocket.

"What should I do then? It needs to know my name before it buys a name, right?"

Master Ma's voice came through the walkie-talkie, and the teacup lid scraped against the rim of the teacup twice before stopping.

"The rules for buying and selling names have been established. Buying names is not a matter of whether you want to or not. As long as there is proof, an account, and a red seal, you can try to sell it."

Zhou Banxian took a couple of breaths.

"This is troublesome. Deshengmen is using living names as a means of transportation, while Shen Jiulou is using the names of the living as a means of transportation."

Tieguai Li pulled the scrap iron wire out of the joint of a stuck Yin soldier, and black water flowed from the wire.

Speak like a human.

Cheng Xiaojin handed the iron plate with the character "路" (road) to Tang Wanqing and asked her to wrap it with red thread.

"The dead need a leader to pass through. The gong broke and the procession broke up, so Shen Jiulou changed his method and used the names of the living as the leader."

Han Shaobai pointed to his own nose.

"So it chose me?"

Tieguai Li patted him on the shoulder.

"You are valuable."

Han Shaobai swallowed.

"This praise doesn't make me happy at all."

The bamboo tube was knocked again.

This time it was heavier than before; the black smoke from the nozzle seeped into the seal of the ledger, and the ledger page turned to a blank page by itself.

A Korean character seeped out of the paper, the ink glistening wetly.

Han Shaobai's eye twitched, and he reached out to press.

Cheng Xiaojin grabbed his wrist.

"Don't press it, pressing it will be like leaving your handprint."

Han Shaobai's voice trembled.

"Then watch it write about me?"

"Make it spelled incorrectly."

Cheng Xiaojin took a one-yuan coin from Han Shaobai's pocket with his right hand and casually tossed it onto a blank page of the ledger.

The coin fell and landed right in the middle of the Korean character.

The character was smashed in half, and the black ink swirled along the edge of the coin. After circling halfway, a few more characters crawled out.

Tieguai Li frowned as he looked at it.

"It's quite persistent."

"You have to buy the full name; if even one character is missing, the property cannot be transferred."

Cheng Xiaojin turned her head to look at Han Shaobai.

What do your family members call you?

Han Shaobai was stunned for a moment.

My dad calls me Shaobai.

"Anything else?"

My mom calls me Xiaobai.

Tieguai Li was amused.

"Dog's name."

Han Shaobai looked up and glared at him.

"I was fair-skinned when I was little, is that a problem?"

Tong Kexin chimed in.

Where are the shop assistants?

"Young Master, Boss Han, Little General Manager Han, and the big debtor with IOUs."

Tieguai Li smacked his lips.

"The last one is accurate."

Cheng Xiaojin stared at the words "Young Master Han" that appeared on the ledger page, then stretched out his right hand and tapped twice on the hood of the car.

"A name isn't necessarily more formal or more enduring. The name that your family calls you every day is the living name. It's the name that's being used to buy your name on the household registration. We need to use the way people call you to distinguish it from the name on the household registration."

Tang Wanqing wrapped the red thread around Han Shaobai's wrist, with the end of the thread threaded through a copper coin.

"But you can't call it by the wrong name. If you call it by the wrong name even once, it will bite you."

Han Shaobai shrank his neck.

"Then who should call?"

Cheng Xiaojin looked at the town's property bureau staff.

"Contact his family."

Han Shaobai quickly stopped him.

"No, don't hit my dad. If he finds out that I was bought by a ghost under the Deshengmen Bridge in the middle of the night, he'll turn Boguzhai into a psychological clinic tomorrow."

Tieguai Li snatched his phone away.

"password."

"Six eights."

"Are all rich people this brainless when it comes to passwords?"

"convenient."

The phone was unlocked, and Tieguai Li flipped through the contacts, his finger pausing on the words "Han's mother".

Han Shaobai covered his face.

"Call my mom, she'll be gentler with her insults."

The phone rang seven times before being answered.

A woman's sleepy voice came from the other end of the line.

"Shao Bai? You've had too much to drink again?"

Han Shaobai opened his mouth to answer, but Cheng Xiaojin raised her hand and pressed it to his lips.

Tieguai Li shouted into the phone.

"Auntie, your son can't answer right now. Please call him by the way you would call him at home, but don't use his full name. Just call him by the way you usually scold him."

There was a brief silence on the other end of the phone.

Who are you?

Han Shaobai waved his hands anxiously.

Cheng Xiaojin took the phone and held it close to his ear.

"Auntie, I'm Cheng Xiaojin from Panjiayuan. Han Shaobai was with me. He wasn't drinking, and he wasn't kidnapped."

"Now someone is buying his name with money. If you trust me, just call him by his childhood nickname. Don't ask why. You can't explain it anyway, and if you do, you won't be able to sleep."

I heard the sound of slippers on the floor from the other end of the phone, the cabinet door was pulled open, and a cup clinked together.

"Cheng Xiaojin? Shao Bai mentioned you before, the one who always makes him spend money."

Tieguai Li muttered to himself from the side.

"That's an accurate assessment."

Cheng Xiaojin coughed.

"Auntie, let's save him first. You can scold him for wasting money later."

Han's mother took a breath, and her voice came through the receiver.

"Little White, let's go home."

The word "short" on the ledger page paused for a moment.

Han Shaobai's eyes immediately reddened on one side. He quickly lowered his head and pretended to look at the shoes.

Han's mother called out again.

"Xiao Bai, stop showing off outside. The lights are on for you at home."

The black smoke retreated by one finger's width.

A thin crack appeared between the two characters "Han Shao" on the ledger page, and white steam rose from under the coin.

The cracked red needle pounded even harder inside the bamboo tube, making the tube walls hot, and Han Shaobai almost couldn't hold it back.

Tang Wanqing jabbed the needle into the rope wrapped around the bamboo tube with her other hand, and the end of the needle immediately turned black.

"It's trying to steal the cover."

Cheng Xiaojin stared at the bamboo tube.

"Shaobai, don't hold the tube, put it on the ground."

Han Shaobai was taken aback.

What if it runs away when I put it on the ground?

"It now recognizes the warmth of your hand; you have to hold it for it to consider your consent."

Han Shaobai gritted his teeth and placed the bamboo tube in the soot line.

As soon as the bamboo tube hit the ground, black smoke swirled around the opening, and the cracked red bark inside made a dull thud as it struck the bamboo skin.

Tong Kexin tore open the wrapper of the cold bun and stuck it to the side of the bamboo tube.

"Don't put anything on the table if you haven't paid for it."

The dumpling skin absorbed a wisp of black smoke and immediately turned black and hard.

Han's mother called out for the third time.

"Xiaobai, your dad said if you don't come home for dinner tomorrow, he'll sell your beat-up sports car."

Han Shaobai looked up.

"Mom, that car isn't broken!"

Cheng Xiaojin stepped on his shoe.

"Don't answer."

Han Shaobai swallowed the rest of his sentence because of the pain.

The two characters "Han Shao" on the ledger page had scattered, and the black ink had circled the paper. I tried to put them back together, but halfway through, they turned into two crooked characters: "Xiao Bai".

Master Ma spoke into the walkie-talkie.

"Xiaobai is a term used at home; it's not used in business accounts."

Cheng Xiaojin nodded.

"Han Shaobai, write."

Han Shaobai picked up the pen, but his wrist hurt so much that he couldn't use it properly. Tieguai Li helped him up from behind.

"Write what?"

"Writing the name of Han Shaobai of Boguzhai, I will not sell his real name or his childhood name. He will respond when called at home, but he will not handle any burial plots."

When Han Shaobai's brush touched the ground, the first stroke trembled and resembled an earthworm.

"Could we omit the words 'nickname'?"

Tieguai Li leaned closer.

"You're risking your life, and you still think the term 'GG' is shameful?"

Han Shaobai gritted his teeth and finished writing the words.

As soon as the last character was written, the two characters "Xiaobai" on the account page were covered by ink, black smoke escaped from the cracks in the paper, and the cracked red stamp in the bamboo tube was knocked again.

This time it wasn't covered up.

Cheng Xiaojin reached out and picked up the coin from the ground, turning it over to face down.

The back of the coin is covered with a little red clay, which contains fine copper powder and smells of sweet and bitter agarwood from Southeast Asia.

He scraped a little with his fingernail, without touching the copper powder, and handed the coin to Tang Wanqing.

"Shen Jiulou didn't just buy Shao Bai."

Tang Wanqing used a silver needle to pry open the red clay.

"Who else?"

Cheng Xiaojin looked down from the bridge.

The ghostly soldiers under the bridge, now silent, were still wandering around. The water level had receded by half a foot, revealing several soaked and rotten meal receipts.

The receipt didn't list the dishes; it only showed the recipient's name.

Chen Liang, Sun Hao, and Li Peng.

Several names were washed away by the water, leaving only the surnames.

The officers from the town's property bureau changed their expressions.

"Missing Persons List"

Zhou Banxian cursed into the walkie-talkie.

"He used the names of the living people he rescued to continue his journey!"

Cheng Xiaojin held the edge of the ticket and saw a red stamp mark on the back of the ticket. The mark was incomplete, only half of it.

A half-circle of red seal, a half-seal of a cracked red stamp.

Han Shaobai saw the indentation and picked at the edge of the ledger with his finger.

"I didn't cover it, I really didn't cover it."

Cheng Xiaojin spread the receipt out on the car hood.

"You didn't stamp it; someone used the shadow of the cracked red stamp to stamp it."

Tang Wanqing stared at the bamboo tube.

"Where does the shadow come from?"

Master Ma paused for a moment.

"Grey Well".

Everyone looked towards the direction of Master Ma's courtyard.

The plume of red smoke in the distance rose higher than before, no longer spreading into the sky, but instead pressing down along the northern waterline of the city, like a red lantern burning upside down.

Cheng Xiaojin didn't speak immediately.

He reached into his pocket with his right hand, took out the coin he had just intended to give to Tong Kexin, and twirled it halfway between his fingers.

Tang Wanqing grabbed his wrist.

"Don't listen to Graywell."

"I didn't hear you."

"Your eyes were looking north just now."

Cheng Xiaojin glanced at her.

"Dr. Tang, your occupational disease should also be considered a work injury."

Tong Kexin walked over carrying a curved ladle, the ladle tip still dripping black water.

"Don't try to deflect criticism with your words. If something really happens to Huijing, even if Master Ma is in the yard, you'll have to follow the rules."

Tieguai Li untied the copper rope from the lamppost and tossed it to the operative.

"What should we do about Deshengmen? The ghost soldiers are still here; we can't just leave them here as decorations for the night market."

Tan Laohe was helped to sit up by two officers, still thinking about the bowl of noodles.

"The gong is broken, the procession has scattered, the waterway is not blocked, but it's just headless. If the entrance to the funeral procession isn't blocked, it will look for a new gong before dawn."

Cheng Xiaojin looked at the edge of the half-circle of the gong.

"Leave the gong here."

Han Shaobai was stunned.

"Aren't you taking the spoils?"

"Take it away. The gong will be repaired underwater, leaving half a broken gong so it will recognize that it is already broken."

Mr. Ma grunted in response over the walkie-talkie.

"Use inanimate objects to weigh down the tent."

Cheng Xiaojin turned to Han Shaobai.

"Write: Deshengmen exits the funeral procession, the gong is broken, the broken gong remains in the ditch, the ghost soldiers are headless, and cannot borrow living names to continue the procession."

Han Shaobai quickly wrote it down.

When he wrote the two characters "不得", the red stamp inside the bamboo tube struck again, and black smoke billowed out half an inch from the opening of the tube, heading straight for the two characters "陈亮" on the receipt.

Chen Liang's mother had already hung up the phone, but as soon as her name was touched by the black smoke, a short gasp came from the ambulance in the distance.

The town's security personnel immediately turned around.

"Chen Liang's heart rate dropped."

Cheng Xiaojin's face darkened.

"Put the phones of all three people's families on the line."

The operative immediately complied.

The ambulance door opened, and Chen Liang, wrapped in an emergency blanket, lay on a stretcher, his lips turning blue, the monitoring clip on his wrist twitching.

Sun Hao, who was standing next to him, had half a receipt in his mouth, which was removed by the medical staff after they pried his mouth open.

Cheng Xiaojin walked to the ambulance, but did not get in. He just stood where the headlights could not reach the water.

"Don't shine the light on their faces, shine it on their feet."

The medical staff were taken aback.

Tang Wanqing took the flashlight, and the beam of light fell on the feet of the stretcher, revealing three pairs of muddy shoes.

Cheng Xiaojin examines the soles of the shoes.

The deliverymen's shoes were badly worn down; Chen Liang's right shoe was missing a piece of glue on the outside; Sun Hao's shoelaces were uneven; and Li Peng's shoe had half a shard of glass embedded in the sole.

He pointed to the shoes.

"Take a picture of the sole of the shoe, send it to the family, and let them identify the shoe. Don't read out the full name."

The operative complied.

As soon as the call connected, Chen Liang's mother burst into tears. As soon as she started crying, black smoke began to climb onto Chen Liang's receipt.

Cheng Xiaojin immediately spoke up.

"Auntie, don't cry, crying is a sign of mourning. You should scold him."

There was a pause on the other end of the phone.

"scold?"

"Yes, just curse me however you normally would, but don't call me by my full name."

Chen Liang's mother's voice trembled, but she managed to bite down.

"Xiao Liang, you idiot! You think you can deliver food all the way to under a bridge? The soup's gone bad, and you haven't even taken your shoes in yet. Come back and wash them yourself!"

Chen Liang's fingers twitched on the stretcher.

The name "Chen Liang" on the receipt has been partially removed, leaving only a half-broken "Chen".

Sun Hao answered the phone with his sister, whose voice was very aggressive.

"Rat, if you don't answer the phone, I'm selling your game account!"

Sun Hao spat out a mouthful of black mud, and his heart rate jumped up a notch.

No one answered at Li Peng's home. The officer dialed three times before a little girl finally answered.

"Who are you?"

The agent didn't dare to speak for a moment.

Cheng Xiaojin took the phone.

"What does your brother usually call you?"

The little girl sniffed.

He called me a little money-loser.

Tieguai Li cursed from the side.

"This guy deserves a beating."

Cheng Xiaojin glanced at the young man carrying the incubator on the stretcher.

"You can insult him now. Don't call him by his name."

The little girl held it in for a long time, then suddenly her voice rose to a high-pitched tone.

"Hey bro, you said you'd bring me sausages, where are they? If you don't come back, I'm taking all the money from under your pillow!"

The insulated box in Li Peng's hand clicked open, the lid opened a crack, and a crumpled meal ticket rolled out.

The words "recipient" on the ticket were washed away by black water, leaving only the remarks.

I'm bringing grilled sausages for my younger sister.

Tong Kexin stuffed half a bun wrapper into the box.

"The food hasn't been delivered yet, so I have to go home first."

The black smoke on all three receipts receded simultaneously.

Han Shaobai was sweating profusely as he wrote on the car hood.

"Brother Cheng, what are your plans regarding the family members?"

"A living person may not sell their name, but they have a name in their family; you can't buy a name."

Han Shaobai put pen to paper.

The ledger pages gleamed, then aged again, the paper turning yellowish.

The cracked red needle remained silent for a moment inside the bamboo tube.

Just half a breath.

The next moment, a ring of dark red mud seeped out from the bottom of the bamboo tube, and half a red stamp emerged from the mud. Someone inside the tube turned the stamp upside down, trying to pierce it from the bottom.

The copper clasp in Tang Wanqing's hand made a soft click.

She lowered her head, the red rope and copper buckle burning against her palm.

"The sound of copper reeds at Shenmen."

Cheng Xiaojin turned his head to look at the piece of iron plate with the character "路" on it.

On the iron sheet, the vertical stroke in the middle of the character "路" (road) began to bleed red.

Master Ma spoke softly into the walkie-talkie.

"Xiao Jin, there's something in the gray well learning to stamp red seals."

Han Shaobai almost broke the pen.

"Learning from the red stamp? That's even possible to counterfeit?"

Tieguai Li sneered.

"High-quality counterfeit goods from Southeast Asia, specifically designed to rip off poor people who buy genuine products."

Cheng Xiaojin closed the ledger half an inch, leaving a half-inch gap.

"We can't close the deal completely, because if we close it, it'll accept the closed account; but we also can't open it all the way, because if we open it all the way, it'll keep buying."

Han Shaobai hugged the ledger.

"I'm stuck in the door crack right now. Even a mouse wouldn't feel as suffocated as I am, would it?"

"More expensive than a mouse."

After Cheng Xiaojin finished speaking, he looked up at the Deshengmen Bridge archway.

The ghostly soldiers, now silent, were still circling by the water, while several bronze armored figures had begun to retreat towards the bridge arch.

At the entrance to the funeral procession, a dark stone threshold was visible, with half a broken lamppost stuck in it.

The lamppost's reflection falls into the water, forming a slanted shadow.

Tan Laohe was drying his hair with a towel when he suddenly spoke.

"That pole needs to be pulled out."

Tieguai Li looked over.

"What's wrong now?"

"If a living person's lamppost is placed on the path of the dead, it will be mistaken for a soul-summoning banner before dawn. You just wrote it on a blank sheet of paper, but it will grow blank paper on its own later."

Tong Kexin picked up the curved spoon.

"Then pull it out."

Cheng Xiaojin stopped her.

"Your shoes are soaked with water, don't go in."

Tong Kexin glanced at him sideways.

"Your arm is practically up for sale, and you still have the nerve to tell me what to do with my shoes?"

Tang Wanqing continued the conversation.

"She can't go, and neither can you."

Tieguai Li put the toolbox on the ground.

"Fine, the dirty work has to be done by the disabled."

Tan Laohe handed him the iron hook.

"Use a hook, not your hands. The end of the broken lamppost that went into the water is wrapped with paper money; touching it will remind you of your filial piety."

Tieguai Li took the iron hook and weighed it in his hand.

"Old man, that hook of yours is quite heavy."

"Only by sinking can you catch what doesn't want to come up."

Tieguai Li walked to the edge of the soot line, tied one end of the scrap wire around his waist, and handed the other end to the two agents.

He dipped the iron hook into the water, and as soon as the hook tip touched the broken lamppost, a piece of white paper floated to the surface.

The blank sheet of paper, without any writing, was folded into narrow strips and used to climb up the lamppost.

Han Shaobai felt a chill run down his spine.

"It's really long white paper."

Cheng Xiaojin stared at the blank paper.

"Don't let the paper cross the water line."

Tong Kexin dipped the bun wrapper in soot and flicked it over.

A piece of white paper is pasted onto the dumpling skin, then the white paper is first blackened and then rolled up to reveal a section of red line inside.

A small copper coin was tied to the end of the red thread, and scraps of paper were stuffed into the hole of the coin.

Tang Wanqing's expression changed.

"This isn't just funeral paper; it's toll money."

Cheng Xiaojin nodded.

"Shen Jiulou wants us to bring the toll money ashore when we remove the lampposts. Once the money is ashore, the toll will be paid."

Tieguai Li's hook stopped.

"So, should we pull it out or not?"

Cheng Xiaojin took out three coins from his pocket and placed them on the soot line.

"Pull it out, but refund the money first."

He looked at Han Shaobai.

"Write: A broken lamppost under Deshengmen Bridge caused me to accidentally fall onto the dead side of the road. The toll was not collected, and I was returned via the same route."

Han Shaobai was writing while lying down.

Tieguai Li cursed.

"Even removing a broken lamppost requires the finance department to go through procedures."

"If there's no procedure, you're considered a dutiful son."

"Then let's go."

After Han Shaobai finished writing, Cheng Xiaojin kicked the three coins one by one into the water with his toes, so that they didn't go into the black water, but just pressed them against the wet bank.

"Refund the money, but not the person; return the way you came, but not your reputation."

Master Ma chimed in.

"This statement stands."

With a flick of his iron hook, Tieguai Li first hooked the red thread of the copper coin, then pushed it back into the water three inches.

The copper coin sank to the bottom, and the white paper strip scattered with a clatter.

He then yanked the light pole off, pulling it halfway out of the water, along with a clump of water plants and a few white, blistered fingers.

Fingers gripped the pole, fingernails filled with black grime.

Tong Kexin threw a spoonful of soot at him.

"Let go, you're not getting any."

The soot fell on it, and my fingers pulled back into the water.

Tieguai Li used the momentum to retreat, and the two agents followed to pull him. The broken lamppost was dragged ashore and smashed onto the asphalt road, the lampshade shattering into several pieces.

A small wooden plaque rolled out from the fragments.

The wooden plaque was about half the size of a palm, with the character for "filial piety" engraved on the front and Han Shaobai's birth date and time written on the back.

Han Shaobai's legs went weak.

"Why is it me again?"

Tieguai Li looked down at the cards.

"You're quite the filial son/daughter today."

Han Shaobai almost burst into tears.

"Brother Li, that joke is bad luck."

Tang Wanqing used a silver needle to hold the wooden plaque in place, preventing anyone from touching it.

"Is the birth chart real?"

Han Shaobai glanced at it, his lips dry.

"One day off. My birthday was written in lunar calendar, but my family's household registration uses solar calendar."

Cheng Xiaojin suddenly smiled.

Even Shen Jiulou sometimes copied homework incorrectly.

"Master Ma asked over the walkie-talkie."

"Where did we go wrong?"

"He used the records from the town's archives or the information from old sales accounts to piece together Shao Bai's birth chart, but Shao Bai's family used the Gregorian calendar on the day he was named, and they also used the Gregorian calendar when they ate noodles on his birthday."

"No one uses the lunar calendar anymore, no one practices it, so it can't be used to calculate a person's birth chart."

Han Shaobai straightened his back as if he had grabbed a lifeline.

"Yes, yes, my mom thought the lunar calendar was too troublesome, so she always used the solar calendar for me when I was little."

Tong Kexin glanced at him.

"You're only keeping your life because you're lazy."

"Laziness is also a family tradition."

Cheng Xiaojin pointed to the wooden sign.

"Write the wrong birthday, the wrong birth date, and the wrong birth chart; buying designer brands will be for nothing."

After Han Shaobai finished writing, Tang Wanqing put the small wooden plaque into the ashes.

Tong Kexin crushed the character "孝" (filial piety) in two with a curved spoon, and the wood chips emitted red smoke before being pressed down by the soot.

The cracked red mark inside the bamboo tube fell completely silent.

The two characters for "buy name" on the account page have faded to faint marks, leaving only a small black dot at the corner.

Under Deshengmen Bridge, the wandering ghostly soldiers retreated back into the water one after another.

The broken half of the gong was thrown back into the ditch by Tan Laohe, and the edge of the gong got stuck on the stone threshold, making a dull sound.

The water receded into the bridge arch, leaving only a dark slit at the entrance to the funeral procession.

The town's security officer sat down against the car door, his gun barrel bent out of shape.

He wiped his face.

"Is Deshengmen temporarily stable?"

Zhou Banxian chimed in.

"Don't say it's stable, say it's not coming up yet. The nine underground ditches are still open, and we've blocked three and a half of them."

Tieguai Li returned the iron hook to Tan Laohe.

"Sir, how do you calculate three and a half divisions?"

"Deshengmen counts as half."

Tan Laohe stood up, his legs still trembling, and retorted, "The gong is gone, but the water is still there. Even if your outhouse is half-blocked, you can't say the house smells good."

Tieguai Li nodded.

"That's a rough way of putting it, and the logic behind it is also rough."

Cheng Xiaojin wrapped the iron plate with the character "路" (road) on it and handed it to Han Shaobai.

Han Shaobai retreated repeatedly.

"Don't give it to me, I've already had enough good fortune today."

"Place it in the inner compartment of the account book, don't stick it on the bamboo tube."

"Then where should I put it?"

"Place it after the page where I just wrote 'I don't sell my name,' and use 'I don't sell my name' to suppress it."

Han Shaobai carefully inserted the metal sheet, and the paper immediately sank a little.

The edges of the ledger were damp, but not black.

The lid of the teacup on Master Ma's side scraped again.

"Xiao Jin, don't go back to the hospital."

Cheng Xiaojin looked up.

The red smoke is getting closer.

The smoke clung to the low sky, creeping southward inch by inch along the path it had come from.

A row of wet footprints could be vaguely seen in the fog, not on the sidewalk, but in the shadow of the wall.

Tang Wanqing gripped the copper clasp.

"Something came out of the gray well?"

Master Ma did not answer immediately.

The sound of the gate hinges turning came through the walkie-talkie, a creak that sent chills down everyone's spines.

Then came Master Ma's voice.

"He didn't come out."

He paused for a moment.

"It's knocking on the door."

Cheng Xiaojin pressed his right hand against the car hood, his fingertips grinding against a piece of rust.

"Who knocked?"

The sound of the door opening for the third time came from Master Ma's side.

Boom, boom, boom.

Each step was separated by moisture, carrying the echo of the old wooden threshold.

When Master Ma spoke, his voice was lower than before.

There was no one outside the door, but a name card was stretched in from under the threshold.

Han Shaobai, holding the account book, leaned closer and spoke into it.

"Who should we write about?"

Master Ma did not read it aloud immediately.

The lid of the teacup bumped against the other end, as if my hand had slipped.

Cheng Xiaojin stared at the walkie-talkie, pressing the coin in his right hand into his palm.

Master Ma finally spoke.

"Cheng Xiaojin".

The wind blew in from the Deshengmen Bridge archway, and the ditch mouth where the black water had receded made a gurgling sound again.

Master Ma continued reading.

"There's another half-line of text after the name card."

Tang Wanqing's silver needles had already reached Cheng Xiaojin's shoulder.

Tong Kexin braced the curved spoon against the ground.

Tieguai Li picked up the chipped steel pipe again.

Han Shaobai opened the account book, the pen tip hovering over the paper, and flicked his wrist to send out a string of ink dots.

Over the walkie-talkie, Mr. Ma spoke each word carefully.

"Buy Cheng Xiaojin, price: a nail in the heart."