ATEG Chapter 88.2

They took their luggage and walked into the temple. Li Chi leisurely followed behind.

The old man who’d entered first had already turned around, his eyes bright as he stared at Li Chi. “We’ve brought you to your destination. Please also let us lodge here safely for the night.”

Just as he finished, this qin-carrying passenger burst out laughing. The little girl tugged the old man’s sleeve, saying quietly, “Father, this passenger isn’t a youying gong.”

Youying gong was another name for unworshipped wandering ghosts.

The old man was stunned. “Ah?”

Li Chi laughed for a while. “Elder, did you think I was some unlucky soul who died by the roadside, hitching a ride on your cart to find a resting place?”

He strode into the temple, patting his qin case with a smile. “I really do only have a qin here, not my own corpse.”

The old man stood there awkwardly and somewhat flustered. “I thought… but here, one mustn’t speak carelessly!” This was Wanying Gong Temple, housing many souls who died by the roadside. How could one call them unlucky? What if one of them took offense and decided to make you “unlucky” too?

Li Chi didn’t mind, saying it was fine as he stepped inside to find a place to sit.

The old man, recalling his earlier qin music that had calmed the woods on both sides, abandoned the idea of persuading him. He unhitched the ox from the cart, fed it some hay, then tied it at the temple entrance. After finishing these tasks, he started a fire and tentatively tried to learn about Li Chi’s situation.

But he only learned that this chance passenger was named Li Quan and was traveling around. The old man didn’t press further but only half-believed this.

What ordinary person could travel alone in this season? And walk alone on that road at dusk? Just looking at what he and his two children had encountered along the way, one knew this person before him definitely wasn’t ordinary. Otherwise he wouldn’t have mistaken him for a wandering ghost borrowing their living qi to travel the road.

However, judging by his manner, this passenger seemed to have no ill intent. The old man’s heart eased halfway as he roasted flatbread to share.

After eating, the sky had completely darkened. It was very quiet near Wanying Gong Temple—no terrifying dog barking or cawing, only some insect chirping and wind sounds. But the night wind’s sound was normal too, unlike the mournful wailing they’d encountered on the road earlier.

The firewood in the fire made soft crackling sounds. The ox tied at the entrance slowly swished its tail, also looking at ease.

The two children couldn’t hold on any longer. Leaning against each other, they fell asleep. The old man didn’t sleep though. He held a small carving knife, using the firelight to carve a small wooden figurine.

Usually firelight wasn’t stable—it flickered and could hurt the eyes or ruin the carving. But this fire in the temple was somehow extremely steady, not wavering at all, and gave off no heat.

Li Chi looked at the fire. Quite a few youying gong from the temple were crouched by the fire, using their ghost qi to steady the flames. They stared with great envy at the small wooden figurine in the old man’s hands.

The old man couldn’t see these youying gong and didn’t notice anything odd about the firelight. He remained focused on carving the small wooden figurine. This figurine was somewhat special—it held a small oil lamp in its hands.

The old man’s skill wasn’t particularly good. The figures he carved were rather stiff and crude. But when he finished the last cut, the carved wooden oil lamp suddenly lit up as if truly ignited. Yet the old man couldn’t see any of this. He placed the figurine on the platform alongside many other wooden figurines already there.

As soon as the small figurine was set down, seven or eight youying gong rushed over, fighting each other for ownership of the figurine. In the end, five squeezed inside this tiny figurine!

The remaining few who didn’t get in felt quite unwilling. They crouched back by the fire, staring enviously at the old man.

The old man knew nothing of this. After finishing everything, he rubbed his eyes and sat wearily by the fire. Looking up to see Li Chi still had his eyes open, he asked, “Aren’t you going to sleep?”

Li Chi shook his head with a smile. “I’m not tired.”

The old man saw he planned to keep watch all night and said, “Then let’s talk. I’ll clear my head too.”

He yawned and sighed. “This time I originally thought I might be able to get these two children into Dunxi City, but we didn’t make the quota again.”

Dunxi City was one of the cities in the territory Marquis Wu protected, near this area.

The old man didn’t care whether Li Chi responded, rambling on. “Times are hard now. Everyone wants to go there—people can see how good life is there. It’s just a shame that place doesn’t take people. Earlier, many refugees swarmed over, but before long they all came back.”

“They had no choice but to come back. The city gates are closed, won’t let people in. At first some stayed outside, hoping to get some charity porridge. They did get the porridge, but Marquis Wu wouldn’t take these people. Once night came, wild dogs and monsters dragged them all away.”

“So there was no choice—those people fled back here. But coming back is still death, either bitten to death or starved to death. Later that place relaxed restrictions a bit. Every so often they take some people in. Limited spots—whether you get in depends on luck.” The old man rubbed his arms, feeling cold, and sighed, “This is my fourth time, and I still haven’t succeeded.”

“Elder, you have a skill to earn your living and seem to be doing well. Why must you go to Dunxi City?” Li Chi picked up a stick of firewood, leisurely poking the fire a couple times.

The youying gong who’d been gathered by the fire were poked aside by him, retreating to the side looking aggrieved. Only then did the firelight begin to flicker again and give off heat.

The old man instinctively moved closer to the fire, looking at his two sleeping children with a softening gaze. “I do have a skill, but this skill can’t be passed down well!”

Every youying gong’s eyes in the temple turned to look at once. Li Chi poked the fire again, and the firelight brightened several degrees, driving away the surrounding cold.

“How so?” Li Chi asked.

“My skill… my skill… ah!” The old man grimaced and sighed. “Didn’t I mistake you for someone earlier? That’s mainly because when I was young, I experienced something like that.”

“Tell me about it,” Li Chi said.

“That was when I was young, learning carpentry. One day I had to travel at night, so I drank some liquor for courage. On the road I met another traveler who asked about my destination and invited me to travel together. Times weren’t as chaotic then as now, and I didn’t think much of it. Two people together is better than one, so I agreed…”

“But before long, a strange wind suddenly arose, blowing my lantern askew. The candle flame caught the lantern paper and it all burned up in no time. That person said he had a spare lantern and took one out to light for me. I couldn’t see anything wrong with him at all.” As the old man spoke, he stared blankly at the fire. Li Chi didn’t rush him, waiting for him to come back to himself and continue slowly.

“After that strange wind, I was actually somewhat panicked, but that person comforted me, saying we’d definitely travel the road safe and sound. Strange to say, when he said that, my heart settled down. We talked and laughed all the way, and before I knew it, we’d arrived at a resting place.”

“When we reached the place, I prepared to return his lantern and thank him, but he thanked me instead.”

“I asked ‘Why?’ Can you guess what he said?” The old man looked up at Li Chi as he spoke.

Li Chi only smiled without speaking. The old man slapped his leg. “Ha, you must know!”

“He told me he wasn’t living—he’d unfortunately died nearby and no one had gathered his bones. Trapped there, unable to return home, he saw me on the road and borrowed my living qi to travel, finally able to return to his hometown temple.”

As the old man reached this point, his expression twisted—partly fearful, partly proud. “I was young then, and had just drunk liquor, so my courage was up. I actually wasn’t very scared and chatted with him instead.”

“Seeing I wasn’t afraid, he was quite happy too and taught me quite a bit. Like that shout I gave on the road earlier—that breathing method and shouting technique, he taught me that. He also told me that while his situation wasn’t common, it wasn’t very rare either. If I encountered it, I needn’t be too afraid—just act like I didn’t know, or I could try to get a promise. They need to borrow the living’s qi to travel home, and as long as they promise the living person safety, nothing will happen on that road. Even if something else tries to harm the person, they’ll definitely find ways to stop it and keep the person safe. Just don’t force it—some with bad tempers might get angry instead and cause trouble.”

Speaking to this point, the old man couldn’t help but glance up at Li Chi again. He’d told this story to his two children before. Da Luo and he had both misunderstood, and being frightened by the disturbances on both sides of the road, Da Luo had asked Li Chi that question.

Li Chi only smiled slightly, not making anything of it. The old man continued, “He also said he only wanted to return home and didn’t want to harm people, so he voluntarily gave me a promise so I wouldn’t be afraid. But he burned my lantern and led me off my path, so he gave me a skill as compensation.”

The old man looked down at the carving knife in his hand, his expression complex. “He taught me to carve a type of figurine. I studied all night…”

This type of wooden figurine seemed to be an excellent dwelling for ghosts. That small wooden lamp could bring them real warmth, dispelling the cold and darkness of death, helping them more quickly calm their resentment and re-enter the cycle of reincarnation.

“Actually that night, I wasn’t entirely unafraid. I was half drunk, half disbelieving. When I took the new lantern from him, I touched his hand—it was warm. That lantern’s light was warm. What ghost is warm?”

“Near dawn, he said he couldn’t stay outside any longer. His form wavered and he vanished. I’d been drowsy, but that scared me awake. When I turned to look at last night’s lantern—what lantern was it? Clearly it was a bone ash urn! When I walked out of the temple, I was dumbfounded—I didn’t recognize the surroundings at all. I asked someone for directions and learned that in that short while last night, I’d traveled forty li away!”

“Only then did I believe what he said. Remembering it, I properly studied what he’d taught me. Because of this skill, I gradually started doing business with the dead…” The old man smiled bitterly and shook his head. “At first I just thought it was an extra way to make money. My own skill was mediocre—I couldn’t earn much as a carpenter. I figured having this avenue was good. Some youying gong would appear in my dreams, telling me where ownerless property was, or who was plotting against me behind my back and how to avoid it. In exchange, they’d ask me to carve a statue for them—a wooden statue with their name carved on it, giving them their own dwelling.”

“Sometimes I didn’t charge—whenever I passed temples like these, I’d carve a statue without a name and leave it, to accumulate some merit.”

Li Chi’s gaze moved to the platform. Those statues—indeed, more than half were of figures holding lamps. The oldest were quite worn, their lamplight nearly extinguished, barely able to house one youying gong. The youying gong in this temple, whether they had statues to dwell in or not, all looked at the old man with gentle eyes. Only those few who hadn’t squeezed in had rather wistful longing in their gazes.

“But now these times are getting more and more chaotic, and this has become my survival skill instead.” As the old man said this, his brows slowly furrowed. “I don’t know about other matters, but at least for me, the dead are more trustworthy than the living. They haven’t deceived me, and they all paid their compensation first before asking me to carve statues. Because of this, I’ve been able to keep my pair of children fed and clothed until now, but…”

As the old man narrated, these few youying gong had gathered over to listen to the story, only carefully maintaining their distance so their ghost qi wouldn’t disturb the living.

Li Chi paid them no mind and continued listening to the old man’s account.

“But doing this kind of business with the dead, it more or less affects oneself and one’s family…” The old man spoke hesitantly yet with certainty, his gaze moving to the two sleeping children. “My wife and I were together over twenty years before we had our first child. When this child was born, he couldn’t cry—no matter how we patted him, it was useless. His little face turned blue, and we all thought he wouldn’t survive.”

“Then suddenly someone outside banged a gong. That sound shocked him and he started crying—he drew in a breath and let it out, and only then did he live. So we gave him a name: Da Luo.” (TL: Big Gong)

The old man’s gaze moved to the little girl. “Two years later we had Xiao Gu. Xiao Gu was born without problems, but my wife died. I carved a statue for her, but I don’t know if she went inside. She never appeared in my dreams…”

The old man pulled out a small wooden figure from his chest—a robust, smiling woman holding a lamp. Even her fingernails were carved, very fine and careful. The wooden figure had been rubbed so long it had a thick, lustrous patina, but no soul was attached to it. The old man’s wife must have reincarnated not long after.

He held the wooden figure in a daze for a while, then looked at Xiao Gu. “Xiao Gu has a hard fate too. When she was born she seemed fine, but later we discovered her yang qi was too weak. She’s too sensitive to those existences—if she’s not careful she gets affected, then falls ill. The trouble for me is secondary, but the child suffers!”

“I don’t want to do this work anymore. Xiao Gu is the child my wife risked her life to leave me. She’s like this now—who knows which day she’ll be gone? How can I bear it? But this kind of thing… this kind of thing… how can I refuse?!” The old man suddenly cried out mournfully. “Every time it’s them actively seeking me out! I want to refuse! But they’ll torment the children! How can I refuse?!”

When the old man said he didn’t want to do it anymore, the surrounding youying gong had already changed color. One by one, their gazes gathered with shadowy intent, their pallid faces darkening unpredictably. Some gazes had already fallen on the two children.

Li Chi’s hand unhurriedly poked the fire twice, scattering a few sparks. But in these few youying gong’s eyes who’d drawn too close, the sparks became a torrential sea of flames splashing toward them. One by one they cried out in alarm and fled far away.

“At this time, I finally understood—in this matter, I’m not doing business. The initiative has never been with me! But I accept it! I accept it because I remember the benefits they’ve brought me. But what about Xiao Gu? What about Da Luo? This will kill Xiao Gu, and I can’t let Da Luo become like me!”

“So I want to send them into Dunxi City. In Dunxi City, they can survive without me. But outside, they can only depend on me, and I can only depend on this.” The old man gripped his carving knife tightly. “Once in Dunxi City, we can also beg Marquis Wu for help. Xingfeng Temple can’t cure Xiao Gu, but perhaps Marquis Wu can?”

“But this is the fourth time, and I still haven’t been able to send them in.”

He looked at Li Chi with a face full of hope. “Mister Li, you’re a person of great ability. Can you help them? I ask for nothing else, just that you save Xiao Gu and bring both her and Da Luo into Dunxi City. Don’t let them learn this anymore. You can take anything I have. If you think my meager skills are worth anything, I can tell you everything. This carving knife—I’ve used it nearly forty years, carved countless statues. It’s developed some spiritual power and can ward off evil. You can take it too, as long as you let me see them safely enter Dunxi City.”

Da Luo, who’d been sleeping nearby, suddenly jumped up, crying out in alarm, “Father! Father! We have to stay together! You can’t separate from us!”

Xiao Gu also opened her eyes. She said nothing, only looking at the old man with large dark eyes that made his heart ache.

The old man hadn’t expected both children to hear everything. His original plan was to send only Da Luo and Xiao Gu into the city—just deceiving these two children so they’d feel at ease.

Having carved such statues in his lifetime, he could never put down the carving knife, even if he entered Dunxi City. He’d probably still be sought out. But being with him, Xiao Gu’s body simply couldn’t take it. The two children together could depend on each other.

The old man gritted his teeth and completely ignored them, looking at Li Chi. “You…”

“Don’t rush.” Li Chi shook his head to interrupt him, his gaze sweeping around the temple interior, his eyes reflecting a cold color. “People who receive kindness should know gratitude. The same goes for ghosts.”

His words carried a chill. Only then did the old man notice something wrong with the surroundings and quickly pulled his two children close.

This originally peaceful Wanying Gong Temple had at some point become completely silent—not a sound from outside could be heard, only deathly stillness.

The old man felt his hair stand on end, somewhat bewildered. All these years he’d carved statues for these wandering ghosts’ yin temples, and these yin temples had always protected them. How could it suddenly…

He looked at Li Chi, only to see this passenger who’d been calm and courteous all along curl his lips, his dark green robes making him look cold, fierce, and wild. “Those who found you for a transaction finish their business and don’t care about the rest. But these temple dwellers hope your skill can be passed down generation after generation so they can keep getting you to carve statues!”

The old man instantly understood everything. The customers who came to him had limited needs for statues, but these unworshipped youying gong were endless. They didn’t just want his lifetime of skill—they wanted Da Luo to inherit his skill too, preferably Xiao Gu as well, and their children to continue inheriting it, generation after generation without end, forever carving statues that could never be finished!

They wouldn’t let him go, wouldn’t let his children go! Wouldn’t allow his two children to leave! A chill ran through the old man’s entire body.

All the youying gong in the temple had emerged from their wooden statues. They packed the temple full. The temperature in the air dropped sharply as they surrounded the old man and his two children, drawing gradually closer with shadowy, sinister gazes.

But an even colder laugh suddenly rang through the temple:

“Ungrateful fools!”