Warning: This chapter contains scenes of violence that may be disturbing to some readers. Reader discretion is advised.

[A person and a skeleton, intertwined in an embrace]

Huo Zhenye stepped forward, two fingers outstretched, and poked out the Golden Boy’s eyes. It was clearly a thin layer of paper, but it felt like poking skin. As soon as Huo Zhenye poked, he shook his hand; his fingertips were damp.

Two trails of blood streamed from the Golden Boy’s eye sockets. A gust of eerie wind swirled through the room, and the two open carved doors slammed shut with a “bang,” extinguishing the candle in Huo Zhenye’s hand. Tables and chairs rattled and shook, and the dark room filled with the “rustling” sound of paper and bamboo rubbing against each other.

Huo Zhenye “snapped” open a silver box. A flame leaped up, illuminating a small area. The paper figures that had just been standing against the wall all turned to face Huo Zhenye, their stiff limbs moving as they advanced towards him.

“Bai Zhun!” Huo Zhenye raised his voice, but no one answered him.

He cursed, pulled a small bottle from his pocket, bit off the cap, splashed its contents onto the nearest paper figure, then lit the candle and threw it over. As soon as the flame touched the paper, it instantly “whooshed”into a blaze. The burning paper figure waved its limbs, clutching its face, mouth agape as if howling, yet unable to make a sound.

The paper figures that had been about to pounce stopped in their tracks. Their paper faces maintaining their unchanging smiles, they all retreated. What Huo Zhenye held in his hand was a small liquor bottle. He had run out of Yuqing Alley in the rain, then turned back when he passed a liquor store. The counter was filled with palm-sized small liquor bottles, and Huo Zhenye bought them all. He couldn’t buy oil at the moment, but high-proof alcohol would also work. All his pockets were stuffed with these small bottles of liquor. With just a spark, these bottles could be thrown like incendiary grenades.

The other paper figures shrank back, but only the Golden Boy, whose eyes he had poked out, refused to let him go. The Golden Boy raised both hands, a sash draped across its front emblazoned with “Golden Boy Guides to the Western Path.” It lightly leaped up, its sash whipping towards Huo Zhenye’s chest, creating a gust of strong wind.

Huo Zhenye saw that it wasn’t even afraid of fire. He retreated to the door and casually ripped off a rotten wooden bar from the door, swinging it at the Golden Boy. The Golden Boy caught it with one hand and snapped it in two. Its two eyes gushed blood, and it opened its mouth in a silent roar at Huo Zhenye, revealing tiny, dense bamboo teeth inside.

Huo Zhenye suddenly remembered that when Mrs. Song died, her fingers were broken off at the root, covered in teeth marks. It turned out the paper figure, Little Jie, had used this to bite off her fingers.

The Golden Boy opened its mouth wide and lunged. Huo Zhenye blocked with his arm, and it bit down on his arm. The finely sharpened bamboo teeth dug into his flesh, and Huo Zhenye gasped. He crashed backward through the carved door, no longer struggling. With his free hand, he pressed down on the Golden Boy’s head and dragged it into the rain.

The Golden Boy felt the dampness and tried to escape, but Huo Zhenye held its head down. The sash wrapped around Huo Zhenye’s neck, tightening more and more. Huo Zhenye held his breath. His young master’s temper flared, and he stubbornly held the Golden Boy, refusing to let it move.

The Golden Boy quickly became soaked in the heavy rain. At first, it tried to strangle Huo Zhenye with the sash, but once the sash absorbed enough water, it collapsed to the ground, completely lifeless.

Huo Zhenye tore the wet paper from his neck with both hands. He pulled out a bamboo knife and, with one swift cut, sliced open the Golden Boy’s head, then kicked it like a broken lantern, sending it rolling across the floor.

His arm was covered in countless tooth holes, continuously oozing blood. He ripped off his suit sleeve and casually tied up the wound.

He re-entered the hall, tore down the white drapery hanging in front, wrapped it around a wooden stick, poured liquor over it, and lit it. Sparks occasionally burst and flew, scattering the paper figures throughout the room. Huo Zhenye, covered in blood and water, continued walking further into the house.

“Bai Zhun! Are you here?”

In a house like this, connecting inside and out, he walked in with the torch raised, loudly calling Bai Zhun’s name. His voice pierced through the rain, but there was no response.

The rain gradually lessened. Huo Zhenye turned into the garden. The scene here was even more terrifying than the main hall. Several paper figures, dressed as opera performers, stood on the dilapidated stage. Paper maidservants and male servants stood under the corridor. Huo Zhenye took a deep breath, tightening his grip on the torch.

But these paper figures remained motionless; they showed no intention of attacking him.

A rustling sound came from behind. Huo Zhenye turned to see the Jade Girl half-hidden around the corner, a joyful smile still on her face. When he spotted her, she let out a “hee-hee” and hid again.

Having already “killed” one, he figured this one wouldn’t spare him either. Rather than waiting for the Jade Girl to ambush him, he might as well take her out first. Huo Zhenye gave chase. After only a few steps, he saw an open door to a room. Inside, there was a flicker of light, and Bai Zhun sat in his bamboo wheelchair, his head tilted to the side, looking as if he had fainted.

Huo Zhenye rushed into the room and supported Bai Zhun’s shoulders: “What’s wrong with you?”

“Bai Zhun’s” entire neck snapped backward, and he bared his mouth at Huo Zhenye, revealing dense, fine bamboo teeth. He then spewed a cloud of thick smoke directly at Huo Zhenye. Huo Zhenye was caught off guard and inhaled it completely; it was too late to hold his breath. He bit his lip, trying to use the pain to stay conscious, but the sedative took effect too quickly. He clutched the wheelchair and sank to his knees.

…

When he next awoke, before his eyes even opened, he first heard a voice.

“Don’t be afraid, you’ll wake up today.” The voice was unusually gentle, like a lover’s whisper.

Huo Zhenye’s hearing returned, though his vision was still blurry. He lifted his eyelids and could only see that his arms and legs were propped up by several bamboo poles, leaving him standing, completely bound. Someone had their back to him, with a head full of silver hair, but their build suggested a young person.

“Who are you? Where’s Bai Zhun?” The sedative hadn’t worn off, so he spoke very slowly, his voice slurred.

The white-haired man turned around to face Huo Zhenye. It was Bai Li.

Huo Zhenye’s pupils constricted. Bai Li gently said, “Don’t worry, I won’t kill you. Little Zhun would blame me, and you’re no use to me anyway.” He only wanted women’s skin.

“Where’s Bai Zhun? What did you do to him?” Huo Zhenye bit his tongue. The pain and the taste of blood in his mouth gradually cleared his mind, and his tongue became more agile.

Bai Li didn’t answer. He stood up, walked over to Huo Zhenye, picked up a piece of paper, dipped it in a basin of water to wet it, and then “slapped” it onto Huo Zhenye’s face. His fingertips gently pressed Huo Zhenye’s face, outlining his brow bones and nose bridge. Huo Zhenye held his breath. He knew of a torture method called “jiashen jinju,” where wet paper was applied to the face, one sheet at a time. At first, the person could still barely breathe, but as the layers of paper thickened, breathing became impossible, ultimately leading to bulging eyes and a tongue falling out—a truly horrifying death.

But the paper was soon lifted off, bearing the imprint of his face. Bai Li glanced at him, then sat under the lamp and began sketching the brows and eyes upon that very sheet.  

Huo Zhenye took a deep breath. His vision had returned. All around him were bricks, with a brick ladder against the wall. They were in the mansion’s cellar. A paper Jade Girl stood in the corner, her hands raised level, her sash inscribed with “Jade Girl Accompanies to the Land of Ultimate Bliss.”

Against the wall, there was a bed, and on it lay a woman. She had dark hair and delicate eyebrows and lashes, covered by a brocade quilt. The house everywhere else was dilapidated, but this woman was covered by a quilt with a pink-and-white base, embroidered with a hundred butterflies flitting through flowers.

Just moments ago, Bai Li had been kneeling by the bed, speaking to her. The woman’s eyebrows were as dark as ink, her cheeks tinged with pink. She looked as though she were merely sleeping, but she remained completely motionless.

Even when a person is deeply asleep, their chest will still rise and fall, their eyelashes will tremble, but she did none of that. She wasn’t breathing. Lying there, she was exactly like a paper figure. Huo Zhenye instantly understood: Bai Li wanted to do the same thing as the Song Fusheng couple.

“You should let her rest in peace.”

Bai Li’s brush tip paused. “Silence.”

Huo Zhenye continued to persuade him: “You clearly know that who Mrs. Song summoned back wasn’t Little Jie at all. Her son lies in the cemetery behind the church.”

Bai Li’s aura changed completely. “I told you to be silent!”

As soon as he spoke, the Jade Girl moved. It took a piece of cloth and stuffed it into Huo Zhenye’s mouth, preventing him from speaking further. Bai Li’s anger gradually subsided. He no longer had the excess energy to be angry. He had tried many methods; he didn’t have time to try again and again. He initially thought that any “voluntarily” offered human skin would work, but later he learned that it had to be willingly sacrificed before death. So he needed many “Little Jies” for the Song Yings to voluntarily offer their skin. After saving for so long, he finally had enough human skin. As long as tonight passed, she could return.

Bai Li took out a bamboo frame, draped it with paper clothing, and quickly fashioned a paper figure. He then pasted the face he had just imprinted from Huo Zhenye onto the bamboo frame. His movements were extremely swift. After completing the human figure, he used thick ink to dot the eyes of “Huo Zhenye.” The paper figure immediately stood up, its height, build, and movements identical to Huo Zhenye’s.

Bai Li’s finger moved. “Go.”

“Huo Zhenye” staggered up the stairs and exited the room. Huo Zhenye stared at Bai Li. Did he think such a method could deceive Bai Zhun? Bai Li glanced at Huo Zhenye, seeing through his thoughts, but Bai Li said nothing. The Jade Girl came forward and blindfolded Huo Zhenye with a cloth.

He could see nothing, but he could still hear. He first heard the sound of paper tearing, then Bai Li spoke to the woman on the bed in that gentle tone again: “Don’t be afraid, I’m just changing your clothes.” Huo Zhenye realized then that the woman was also a paper figure; her delicate brows and rosy cheeks were all painted.

Following that, Huo Zhenye smelled a pungent, bloody odor. Bai Li opened a box and took out human skin from within. Human skin needed to be kept “alive” by being nourished with human blood, changed daily. The human skin in the box was neatly stacked, piece by piece. Bai Li took one piece out, produced bamboo scissors, and cut into it. Huo Zhenye heard a series of scalp-crawling cutting sounds, as if something thin and soft was being cut, the sound dull, followed by the threading of a needle.

Bai Li sat before the lamp, gazing with profound love at the human skeleton in front of him, carefully cutting and applying piece by piece. The limbs and body were all cut to shape, with only the skull remaining. He gently cradled the skull, meeting her gaze, as if he could see his lover’s tender eyes through the bone. He opened the eyes, shaped the nose, filled in the lips, stroke by stroke, creating a “person” according to the memory in his heart.

Finally, he dressed her in clothes: an old-fashioned qipao with a white base embroidered with magpies on plum branches, the same one she wore when she left him. The woman on the chair “came alive.” She raised her eyes to Bai Li, and the dark pupils glowed with the faint light of the candle. Bai Li smiled, reaching out to caress her brows and eyes. Just a little more, just this last bit, and she would truly return.

Bai Li began to cough deeply, his chest shaking continuously. He pushed his chair away and extended his hand. The woman also extended her hand, placing it in Bai Li’s palm. Hand in hand, they left together.

Huo Zhenye waited for a while. He couldn’t hear a single sound in the room. He shook his head, dislodging a corner of the cloth covering his eyes. Just as he could see, he found the Jade Girl face-to-face with him. Her cheeks were rouged, her lips a delicate cherry red, and she gazed at Huo Zhenye with a smiling expression, then smilingly wrapped her sash around Huo Zhenye’s neck, tightening it more and more.

Huo Zhenye didn’t believe Bai Li had lied; he truly hadn’t intended to kill him. But the Jade Girl was no longer under Bai Li’s control. The Jade Girl, with her unchanging expression, tightened the sash further and further. Huo Zhenye held his breath, digging his toes into the ground, his mind frantically searching for a solution. He gathered strength in his waist and lunged at the Jade Girl.

The paper frame made of thin bamboo couldn’t withstand the impact. The Jade Girl’s hands and feet were flattened, but its head remained. It opened its mouth, and its bamboo teeth pierced through Huo Zhenye’s chest muscle. Just as he thought about standing up straight to collide with it again, the little yellow bird flew in. It furiously pecked the Jade Girl’s head, causing the bamboo frame to break apart.

Huo Zhenye was covered in blood and ash. The little yellow bird snatched the cloth from his mouth with its beak. He sat up, incredibly disheveled. “Where did you go?” Before encountering the paper “Bai Zhun,” the little yellow bird had been in his suit pocket.

The little yellow bird puffed out its chest. Huo Zhenye used his teeth to bite through the ropes binding his hands and feet, tore off the paper sash from his neck, and ripped the words “Ultimate Bliss” on it to shreds. He stepped out of the cellar and saw Bai Zhun waiting directly above him. Seeing him emerge, Bai Zhun’s gaze swept him from top to bottom, pausing at the bloodstains on his chest and arm.

“Where were you? I looked everywhere for you, do you have any idea?!” When Huo Zhenye hadn’t seen him, he felt only worry. He knew Bai Zhun seemed tough but was actually very soft-hearted; what if he’d been tricked? But upon seeing Bai Zhun, only anger remained: “Can’t you just say something if you’re going to do something? Do you have to come alone?”

Bai Zhun, uncharacteristically, said nothing, not even frowning. Only after Huo Zhenye finished did he speak: “I didn’t ask you to come.”

“Yes, I came on my own. I rushed here.” As he said this, the wound on his chest pulled. Huo Zhenye pressed his hand to his chest, taking a sharp breath; the Jade Girl really bit hard.

The little yellow bird flapped its wings, burrowed into Bai Zhun’s sleeve, pulled out a handkerchief from his cuff, and then brought it to Huo Zhenye. Huo Zhenye took it. Is this an apology? He pressed the handkerchief to the wound on his chest. Although the wounds were numerous, thankfully, none had hit a vital spot.

Bai Zhun had already turned, his wheelchair rolling towards the back of the mansion. As they exited the house, a long corridor stood, packed with paper figures. The ones in the courtyard still had faces, mouths, and clothes, and could be called “paper people.” These on the corridor were more like “paper figures.” They were only roughly shaped into limbs and torsos, with a thin layer of paper covering their faces, devoid of features.

Huo Zhenye felt his liquor bottle; good thing Bai Li hadn’t searched his pants pockets. Just as he was about to make a move, those paper figures all toppled backward, clearing Bai Zhun’s path. Paper figures, of course, obeyed the Seventh Master.

The two quickly reached the back of the mansion. In the middle of an empty space, there was a brick and stone altar. A circle of bamboo poles was stuck around the altar, with white banners covered in runes hanging from them. It had been raining all day, but now the sky was clear, and a solitary moon shone brightly.

Bai Li heard a sound and turned around. The incense stick was already lit, the soul-summoning banner swayed without wind, and the previously clear sky became filled with wispy clouds, obscuring the moon.

“Ah Zhun, we’ve come this far, are you still going to stop me?”

Bai Zhun’s gaze deepened. He stared at the soul-summoning banner, fluttering loudly without wind, and said, “You’ll regret this.” The dead are dead; once “revived,” they are no longer the original person.

Bai Li’s smile was utterly weary. “Regret or not, I have to try.” With that, he turned back, completely unafraid of Bai Zhun making a move now.

“Aren’t you going to stop him?” Huo Zhenye frowned. Bai Li used so much human skin; where did it all come from?

Bai Zhun didn’t move.

Inside the soul-summoning banner, a fierce wind stirred. Bai Li slit his wrist, and blood flowed into the formation inscribed on the stone altar. The woman sat within the circle, seemingly looking up at Bai Li, yet utterly unaware, with no emotion in her eyes.

Bai Li’s hair and eyebrows were completely white. After losing a bowl of blood, he could no longer stand; his knees buckled, and he knelt in the altar, staring at the soul-guiding banner as if mesmerized. When the soul-guiding banner finally hung motionless, the lines of blood on the altar slowly began to flow. A thin ray of white light broke through the thick clouds obscuring the moon, striking the woman’s head.

Bai Li smiled, practically crawling towards her. He embraced the woman’s shoulders. She raised her head, looked at Bai Li, and spoke her first words in ten years: “So hungry.”

She then bit down on Bai Li’s arm.

Bai Zhun closed his eyes for a moment, sighing softly. His fingertips moved slightly, and the poles standing around the altar burst from the ground. The soul-summoning banner fell into the mud, and all the bamboo poles pointed directly at the woman in the altar.

“Don’t!” Bai Li turned, shielding her behind him. But the woman didn’t bite into flesh; she opened her mouth and tore away Bai Li’s clothes. Huo Zhenye was aghast: half of Bai Li’s body had already turned to paper. He was half-human, half-paper. Under the moonlight, the paper and flesh merged, and the paper half was rapidly consuming the half with blood and flesh.

“Move aside!” Bai Zhun commanded. The bamboo poles split into countless bamboo swords, flying into the air, their tips aimed at Bai Li. “That’s not her. That’s a malevolent spirit.”

“If you don’t let go of her, you won’t survive.”

Bai Li lowered his gaze to the woman biting his shoulder. He was nearly out of blood; even if she bit, she wouldn’t draw much. He looked at the pieced-together skin with profound love, holding her close. “I wasn’t going to survive anyway.”

Among the hundreds of bamboo swords, one shot through the air. Bai Li was pierced by the bamboo sword and closed his eyes. The woman’s teeth were still clamped on his shoulder. As his eyes closed, his human skin peeled away in pieces, revealing his true form: a skeleton. A person and a skeleton, intertwined in an embrace.