Chapter 13: The Paper Effigies of Death
Were there Yin-Yang Shops in the Taihang Mountains? Almost certainly.
The area's proximity to Mount Wutai made it prime territory. Buddhist monks needed special materials for their prayer beads and robes, and information from the outside world. Sometimes practitioners like Third Uncle would bring troubled spirits for purification - as he had with Xiao Yan'er's soul.
Where there's demand, there's business. I just didn't know where, being new to this world.
Old Wu hesitated. "Let's try Zanhuang County. There's a house on a desolate mountain near Zhangshiyan that should have what we need. It'll add three or four hours to our journey."
I glanced at the sky, feigning nonchalance. "Your call."
Summer nights were short. It was already past eleven - the detour would take us to dawn. The Ghost-Devouring Mirror could only be retrieved at night, so this delay might buy me a day. Maybe Third Uncle would notice my absence and come looking?
Zhangshiyan was a scenic area, but our destination lay on an undeveloped peak nearby. The terrain was just as treacherous as the tourist site.
We drove halfway up before hitting a stone path that forced us to continue on foot. Seeing the soul-guiding lamp at the summit, I warned, "Old Wu, watch out for black shops."
Most Yin-Yang Shop owners were honest brokers, dealing only in soul guidance and merit-gathering, with some trade on the side. But some were death traps, preying on both living and dead customers. These rarely lasted long - either killed by vengeful customers or shunned into extinction.
These shops existed in a twilight zone between living and dead. You might meet fellow exorcists, mountain spirits, or even corpses coming to trade. One famous tale from Xiangxi told of a female corpse who visited nightly, buying only milk products. The curious shopkeeper followed her to discover she'd given birth in her coffin. Still bound by maternal love, she traded burial goods for milk to feed her newborn.
That shopkeeper had managed to save both child and mother's soul before the seven-day return period expired - when she would have either been forcibly taken by the underworld officers or transformed into a vicious vampire through accumulated resentment.
But the infant, having been nursed on death-energy from birth, remained sickly throughout life, a frequent hospital visitor.
Grandfather had warned me to avoid unknown shops. The concentrated death-energy could bring misfortune or illness to those with weak fate.
The Wu brothers strode in boldly. A musty stench hit us - thankfully they didn't sell food, or I might have been sick.
They grimaced but pressed on, Old Wu giving me a meaningful look about trying to escape. With his gun, I had no choice but to follow.
Inside, the shop was surprisingly busy. Groups sat at tables, some glancing at us curiously, others seemingly lost in their own worlds.
"Don't stare," Old Wu whispered. "Some customers aren't human."
Indeed, several figures flickered oddly, their faces perpetually shrouded in dark mist. These were my first true spirits - different from the white-haired vampire of my childhood, hanged Xiao Yan'er, or the recent Golden Immortal. These were wandering souls, coming to trade under cover of night.
Second Wu grabbed me roughly. "Don't cause trouble! I'll shoot you first if you try anything, understand?"
My expression fell. They were sharp - I had been considering creating a disturbance to escape. Not anymore.
Old Wu patted his gun meaningfully, then called out: "Shopkeeper!"
An ancient voice responded from behind the counter: "Mount Wu Mourners? The Wu brothers?"
"Got any paper effigies for substitution?"
A wild-haired old man popped up. "Wait there if you want effigies. Out of stock. I'm busy."
He disappeared again, leaving sounds of hurried crafting behind the counter.
Old Wu frowned, about to speak, when someone nearby laughed: "Here for substitution effigies too? Bad timing - we've ordered a batch he's rushing to finish."