Tianjin, starting with unorthodox methods to achieve immortality

Six paper figures stood at both ends of the alley, completely blocking the way.

Chen Mo's gaze swept over them, and his eyebrows twitched slightly.

The way these paper figures are made seems quite different from the paper-making techniques of the Chen family.

The original owner learned his craft from Chen Dachuan since childhood. Although he dared not say that his paper doll making skills were the best, he had seen a lot of the different styles of various schools.

He had seen the paper figures used to bind corpses in western Hunan, the spirit-sending children in southern Fujian, and the shamanic paper puppets from beyond the Great Wall.

But these few in front of me exude an indescribable sinister aura.

They don't use bamboo strips to make a frame and paper to make a skin.

No matter how exquisitely crafted those paper figures are, their joints are always somewhat stiff, making them move like marionettes.

These few in front of me are different. They stand there, their bodies limp and limp, as if they have no bones, or as if they are all bones, able to twist in any direction.

What's even stranger is that face.

Ordinary paper figures either have their eyebrows and eyes drawn on or outlined with ink lines, which requires skill in creating the facial features.

The eyebrows and eyes of these paper figures were actually burned in, with scorch marks along the edges, just like the characters in a shadow puppet show.

But the scorch marks weren't dead; when the moonlight shone on them, they gleamed with an oily sheen, like a layer of skin just peeled off a person's face.

Chen Mo placed his right hand on the hilt of the knife, not in a hurry to make a move.

The fat man in front got up from the ground, and when he saw what the paper figures looked like, his expression suddenly changed.

"The art of hot stamping?" he blurted out, his voice tense. "The Hou family's shadow craftsmen?"

"Wow, Mr. Hu has a good eye."

A hoarse voice came from above.

Chen Mo looked up and saw that there was someone standing on the left wall at some point.

He looked like an old man, thin and hunchbacked, carrying a pipe in his hand, the embers in the pipe bowl flickering.

"No wonder he's Fatty Hu, the pawnshop owner at Dongsi Archway. He's certainly knowledgeable." The man grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth. "He even knows the tricks of hot stamping."

The fat man's face turned grim, and he subconsciously moved closer to Chen Mo. "Brother, we're in trouble this time."

"The Hou family are ruthless in the Yin Gate. Their paper figures aren't called paper figures, they're called shadow puppets. They can crawl into shadows and can't be cut by ordinary knives."

"Being able to control six shadow puppets at once must mean you've reached the microscopic level. This is going to be difficult for us."

Chen Mo didn't reply, but simply nodded slightly, his gaze sweeping over the person on the wall and into the depths of the alley.

Although he didn't understand formations, he still knew a little about the general principles.

No matter what kind of formation it is, it needs a focal point.

But now the key to the formation is clearly not with that old Hou.

They have accomplices!

The people who set up the formation were still hiding in the shadows.

"Boss Hu, don't rush to whisper in my ear."

The man on the wall pointed down with his pipe bowl, "I, Old Hou, am guarding this pass today. I just happened to run into you two. I guess I'm just lucky."

"We know perfectly well what you two photographed. Hand over the items honestly, and I, Old Hou, will do you a good deed today and will absolutely not harm your lives."

The fat man swallowed hard, but his grip on the Ghost Banner remained steady: "Bullshit! I spent 30,000 silver dollars on this banner, why should I give it to you!"

"Thirty thousand?" Old Hou chuckled. "Boss Hu, you're a man of the game, how can you talk like a child? When they rob people outside the ghost market, they don't care how much you paid for it!"

He tapped his pipe on the sole of his shoe. "Besides," he said, "you two, one making 30,000 and the other 12,000, totaling 42,000 in business. If you were in his shoes, would you take the plunge?"

"Are you so sure you can eat both of us in one go? Aren't you afraid of stuffing yourself to death?"

Knowing there was no way to resolve this peacefully, the fat man instinctively turned around, hoping to get some support from Chen Mo.

After all, he had just seen this person at the auction who dared to confront Qian the Cripple head-on, so he was clearly someone with real strength.

But when he turned around, the fat man almost threw the Ghost Banner away.

Chen Mo had retreated to a corner at some point, his back against the wall, shrinking into the shadows.

He looked exactly like a bystander who didn't want to get involved.

"you--"

He couldn't catch his breath, and his face turned bright red.

Old Hou, perched atop the wall, coughed with laughter, sparks falling from his pipe: "Hahaha, Boss Hu, looks like that guy isn't as tough as you."

The fat man gritted his teeth, and the flesh on his cheeks trembled.

He had been running a pawnshop in Dongsi Archway for over twenty years, and had seen all sorts of people from all walks of life.

There are greedy people, and there are cowards, but I've never seen anyone cowardly like this before!

"Brother," the fat man's voice deepened, without turning around, staring at Old Hou on the wall, "what good is hiding in the corner? This is a formation, sealing off both ends. You think you can just disappear into a crack in the ground?"

Chen Mo remained silent.

The fat man waited for a while, but received no response, and he cursed inwardly.

Well, this guy is really going to play dead to the very end. Poor guy, he just got his hands on the Ghost Banner.

Walking at night too often will indeed lead to encountering ghosts.

The previous auctions went smoothly, but I never expected to run into such ruthless robbers tonight.

Just as the fat man was feeling frustrated, Old Hou, who was on the wall, tucked his pipe into his waistband, put his hands on his knees, and slowly stood up from the wall.

He was hunched over, and even when he stood up, he was still stooped. But as soon as he stood up, the paper figures in the alley all moved at once.

It looked like it was being blown by the wind, but where did the wind come from in the alley?

The paper figures leaned in the same direction, their soft paper skin wrinkling and then stretching out again.

Under the moonlight, the permed eyebrows and eyes seemed to come alive, their pupils turning sharply as they stared at the two people in the alley.

The fat man's back was soaked with cold sweat.

He gripped the Ghost Banner tightly, and the black tassels on the banner moved without wind, wrapping around his wrist.

"Here's the stuff." The fat man's voice suddenly became steady. "You really want to let me go?"

Old Hou grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth: "Boss Hu, as long as you don't have any other ideas, we'll definitely let you go."

"Heh, do you really think I'm a three-year-old?"

The fat man sneered as he gripped the Ghost Banner tightly. "When have any of those highway robbers outside the Ghost Market ever survived?"

When Old Hou heard this, the smile on his face faded.

He stared at the fat man for a while, then turned his head and glanced at the corner of the alley.

Chen Mo was still there, his back against the wall, holding a knife in his arms, not even glancing in their direction.

Old Hou frowned.

Something's off about this kid.

It's not that being cowardly is wrong, it's that being too cautious is wrong.

If they were really going to be cowards, they would have run away long ago.

But this kid just stood there like a dead man, neither helping nor running away.

Just watch.

What are you looking at?

Old Hou suddenly felt a chill run down his spine.

He's been in this line of work for thirty years, robbing more people than he's crossed bridges, and he's seen all sorts of people.

But this is the first time I've ever seen anything like it.

"Old dog," Old Hou suddenly spoke, "stop hiding, hurry up and make your move."

Deep in the alley, a dark figure slowly rose from the shadows at the base of the wall.

The man was even thinner than Lao Hou, as thin as a bamboo pole, but when his hands hung down, his fingers almost reached his knees.

"Why are you wasting your breath talking to a pawnshop owner? You can have that kid, I'll handle this fat guy."