The person inside timidly raised a hand: “G-good… good evening?”
He Zhuchun didn’t answer. He pushed the door wide open, then tipped his chin at Lu You to look inside.
Lu You, still panting and not yet recovered, raised his head and looked over — and met the person’s gaze exactly as well.
The person waved at him too: “Good evening.”
Lu You asked, “Are you a thief?”
The person shook his head in a hurry: “No, I’m not. Not a thief.”
“Not a thief. Then who are you?”
“My name is Zhang Yin.”
“I asked who you are, not your name.” He Zhuchun, presumably speechless by now, angled himself half in front of Lu You.
Zhang Yin managed two “oh, oh”s before admitting, not very gracefully, “Hello. I’m your neighbor. I live in this building too.”
He Zhuchun pointed at the unit number on the door: “You live here?”
Zhang Yin leaned over to look, then shook his head: “Doesn’t seem like it.”
“Then why are you here?” He Zhuchun watched him with a thin smile. “How did you get in?”
Zhang Yin’s head turned sluggishly twice; under He Zhuchun’s wary stare, half a beat late, he finally understood he was being taken for a burglar, and waved his hands and shook his head in a rush: “I’m not a thief! I’m your downstairs neighbor — I don’t know how I ended up walking here. And I came in through the door like a normal person, no window-climbing or anything. Here, I’ll show you my keys!”
He dug through his pockets, and at last produced something flashing silver, opening his palm for the two of them to see.
He Zhuchun looked at the palm.
Not keys. An old length of iron wire.
Were thieves this brazen these days?
He Zhuchun asked, incredulous, “What’s the meaning of pulling out your burglar tools? Are you — are you taunting us?”
“No, no!” Zhang Yin’s expression at this moment looked even more incredulous than He Zhuchun’s. He rummaged through his trouser pockets, pulled the inner lining clean out of one, and still found nothing resembling a key. All his pockets held was the single length of wire clutched in his fist — and his keys had plainly departed in the company of his innocence.
The ironclad evidence sat right there; there was nothing left to argue. Deflated, he stopped, his lips mumbling through half a sentence before he managed only: “You have to let me explain.”
He Zhuchun leaned against the doorframe, calm: “Then explain.”
Zhang Yin said, “I really did take out my keys and open my own front door! I don’t understand why I’m in your home either!”
“Are you telling me you can be so out of your head you forget what your own home looks like?”
Only at these words did Zhang Yin snap awake, as if from a dream, eyes going wide as he surveyed the living room inside and out.
Whether the man was faking it or not, his expression at this moment looked more astonished than He Zhuchun’s. The instant he took in the decor, his eyes went dead straight; hollow, he gazed at them without a flicker of reflection in his pupils, saying only, dully, “How come this place doesn’t look like my home?”
He Zhuchun frowned and was about to say more when a hand clapped over his mouth from behind. He gave a muffled “mmph,” the words dying in his throat, and turned to find Lu You staring fixedly at Zhang Yin, asking, “What does your home look like?”
Zhang Yin’s expression went flustered; he lowered his head and rubbed his hands together, saying in a small voice, “My home… it’s lower than this. The ceiling isn’t this high. This ceiling’s too high. How did it get so high? High isn’t right. It can’t be high. Too high is wrong. Too high, people die…”
He mumbled on, mind plainly unhinged. Lu You cut him off and pressed on: “Anything else different?”
Zhang Yin’s words stalled; he rigidly scanned the room once more before saying, “My room has no windows. The shape’s different too.”
Lu You and He Zhuchun exchanged a look; the hand was released.
He Zhuchun noticed that Zhang Yin was like a machine running on code — trigger some strange wire in him and the person would abruptly turn into this, like a madman.
Lu You softened his voice as much as he could and asked, “What shape is your room?”
Zhang Yin gestured it for him: “Narrow. Long. Stuffy. No air. I lived there many, many years, and there was never any air. I couldn’t help it — I had to come out and breathe.”
That way of putting it was interesting.
Something that was narrow, long, stuffy, with a very low ceiling, and no air to be had.
— A coffin.
He Zhuchun had plainly arrived at the same place as Lu You; in an instant he’d grabbed his hand, regarding Zhang Yin with fresh wariness.
If this wasn’t a person, then entering without opening the door was very easily explained.
A soul, after all, needs no door to enter a room.
Lu You patted the hand He Zhuchun had stretched over — a signal to hold — while a ghost-monster was muddled and showing no intent to attack, it was best not to provoke its hostility. Find a way to break through its “base code,” find a way to coax it away — that was all.
Lu You guided him gently: “You said just now that you had a key when you opened the door, right?”
Zhang Yin’s face grew emptier still; he stared straight through Lu You and nodded.
Lu You said, “Then could you show us one more time? How you opened the door. Let us watch — once we’ve seen it, we’ll believe you.”
“Good. Good.” Zhang Yin’s state didn’t look entirely lucid; muddle-headed, he picked up the wire again, waved it before Lu You, and offered one explanation: “Key.”
Lu You didn’t argue. He nodded and repeated: “Yes. A key.”
Zhang Yin inserted the wire into the keyhole, fiddled with it somehow twice, then gave it a slight twist.
Crack— — a crisp snap, and the lock’s tongue gave way. Before their very eyes, the door swung open with ease.
Zhang Yin drew out the wire, and a smile finally arrived on his face — an abnormal one, though: only the mouth split wide, while the eyes still stared at them, spiritless, as he said, “Opened. See? A key.”
He Zhuchun’s head snapped around toward Lu You; he shot him a meaningful look — presumably asking what to do.
Lu You ignored it and kept guiding Zhang Yin: “Then tell me — does this key belong to your home, or to mine?”
The question seemed a difficult one for Zhang Yin. His face knotted up tight; he thought a while before answering, “Yours.”
Lu You extended a hand: “Then will you give the key back to me?”
“Okay.”
Zhang Yin obediently placed the wire in Lu You’s palm.
The instant finger met palm, Lu You felt the icy temperature of the man’s body. His middle finger twitched involuntarily, a tiny spasm; his face betrayed nothing as he pocketed the wire. “Are you going home now, then? The two of us need to rest.”
Zhang Yin nodded: “Good. Good. Home. Home.”
He stepped out the door, his expression sinking into deeper dullness; he shuffled blankly to the stairwell mouth, then halted, body still.
Lu You stared at him, expressionless.
The next moment, Zhang Yin slowly turned his head back, mouth splitting wide, eyes still empty, and in that half-smile, half-nothing way said softly to the two of them: “Good evening.”
“Good evening,” Lu You replied.
Only then did Zhang Yin seem satisfied; he waved a stiff hand: “Goodbye.”
Lu You waved back: “Goodbye.”
Tap.
Tap.
Zhang Yin descended the steps and slowly vanished around the stairwell corner.
He Zhuchun’s palms were sweating; his strung-tight body finally eased a little: “Holy hell. That’s a ghost thing, right? That was creepy as hell.”
Lu You withdrew his gaze from the stairwell, head slightly lowered: “Let’s go inside first.”
Once the living room door was shut, Lu You sat at the table, unzipped his travel bag, and took out several sheets of blank Yellow Joss Paper. He fetched the portable Cinnabar Red Ink, poured a little into the cap, readied his brush, dipped it in the cinnabar ink, and set it to the talisman paper:
Three dots crowning the head; the Daoist Edict received beneath — the strokes powerful, biting deep into the paper.
He drew six or seven talismans in succession, then took up his seal and stamped each with its corresponding inscription. Only then did he fish out the cigarette pack — one between his own lips, three more laid out in a row on the table.
The lighter was windproof. Once the three on the table were lit, the one at his lips followed; four cigarettes trailed up thin ribbons of white smoke, drifting like silk in a painting, then slowly dissolving into the air.
He Zhuchun sat to one side without disturbing him. Watching Lu You’s gaze grow sharper and sharper, he suddenly snapped back to himself — and looked behind him.
It was a Nine-Tailed Black Fox, two men tall.
The fox sat behind Lu You, solemn and majestic; burnished gold eyes fixed unwaveringly on him; nine tails streaming high; front paws slightly raised, hovering at Lu You’s shoulders.
As if sensing He Zhuchun’s stare, the black fox cast a faint glance his way — a look of crushing pressure, keen with an edge steeped over hundreds and thousands of years. He Zhuchun held the gaze a moment, skin crawling, yet the scene felt strangely, naggingly familiar — and he truly could not remember why.
He drifted a moment; when he came back to himself, Lu You had a cigarette between his teeth, several talismans held in two fingers directly above the three cigarettes, lips moving, murmuring something indistinct. The ash on the cigarette before him trembled, a few sparks drifting down.
The cigarettes on the table burned far faster than Lu You’s. Red embers raced down as if chasing something, hurried and urgent, straight to the filter; the ash stood upright atop each one, refusing to fall, holding firm — like sentries standing guard before a gate, a grand and disciplined show.
The several talismans drifted down lightly on the wind onto the tabletop. Lu You pinched his cigarette between two fingers and exhaled a soft mouthful of white mist. The whole process took mere minutes — yet he seemed suddenly stripped of the last thread of his Essence Energy and Spirit, eyelids sagging, face gone slack. He forced himself through one more cigarette before something like spirit finally returned, and only then looked over toward He Zhuchun.
Meeting Lu You’s gaze, He Zhuchun sat bolt upright: “Awaiting the leader’s orders!”
Lu You pointed at the talisman papers: “There’s tape in my bag. Fetch it, then put one talisman each on the inside of the front door, the living room window, the inside of the bedroom door, the bedroom window, and the door of the empty room.”
He Zhuchun stood at rigid attention: “Roger!”
With the assignments made, two talismans remained.
Lu You pointed at one of them: “This one — on the master bedroom floor.”
He pointed last at the single remaining sheet, his tone mild: “This one, you keep on you. Protect yourself.”
A smile spread across He Zhuchun’s face; another salute: “Understood, Officer!”
Lu You waved a hand, signaling him to hurry up and work.
He Zhuchun gathered the talismans one by one into his palm and affixed each with care to its proper place. Once the last talisman was folded and tucked away against his chest, he turned to Lu You with a grin:
“All placed and accounted for. So, Great Immortal Lu — shall we retire for the night straight away?”
