Chapter 164: The Burial Goods Shop

What was Old Man Ma expecting me to give him?

I looked at him in bewilderment. Old Man Ma glared at me, his eyes full of the frustration of dealing with a hopeless case, as if he were just about to slap me across the face.

"The tools of the trade!" Old Man Ma said indignantly.

A sudden realization dawned on me. The old man couldn't even speak clearly; did he really think I could read his mind? Even if I were a roundworm in his belly, there was no way I knew what he was thinking!

I reached into my jacket's inner pocket and pulled out a talisman folded into the shape of a heart. Old Man Ma's old eyes immediately widened as he stared in disbelief at the paper talisman in my hand.

This paper talisman was folded both horizontally and vertically, and the different shapes I used for commonly folded talismans helped me identify them quickly. The heart-shaped one was the most frequently used protective talisman.

I handed the talisman to Nong Yiqiu. She took the heart-shaped piece of paper, looking completely baffled.

Old Man Ma shot me an irritated glare and said to Nong Yiqiu, "Keep this with you. Don't let it get wet, and don't ruin it."

The car drove on for a long time. The sky gradually grew dark, and it was already dusk by the time we reached Nangui Town. This place was indeed very far away. Since the Chinese New Year had only passed a short while ago, it truly wasn't safe for Nong Yiqiu to travel here all by herself.

Shortly after arriving in town, she asked the driver to pull over, got out of the car, and even tried to split the cab fare with us. I gestured to her that it wasn't necessary. She hesitated for a moment, looking somewhat embarrassed.

"Young lady, if you need anything, come find me," Old Man Ma said.

She lowered her head slightly, muttered a thank-you, and turned to leave.

It seemed that Old Man Ma approaching her was not a coincidence. What kind of secret was Nong Yiqiu hiding, and how on earth did the old man figure it out? I hadn't been able to discern a single clue.

Next came the drive to No. 47 Nanping Road.

The driver had been holding back the entire trip, and now that Nong Yiqiu had gotten out, he finally asked, "Old sir, what on earth happened to that girl?"

This fellow was a regular busybody; I had figured that out from the moment he started talking on the road.

"What could possibly happen? Just a young girl grieving over the loss of her mother, that's all," Old Man Ma said evasively.

"You speak in such a mysterious way, old-timer. I thought something serious was actually going on." Though the driver dismissed it as feudal superstition on the surface, deep down he was still curious about such weird and bizarre occurrences.

Most people were like that: while they claimed not to believe in such things on ordinary days, they still couldn't resist their own curiosity, especially regarding traditions that had been passed down for thousands of years.

Old Man Ma forced a dry chuckle on his wrinkled, aged face: "How could there be so many weird and unusual things?"

The car drove along Nanping Road and stopped outside a narrow alley. Number 47 was located right inside that alley.

I paid the fare, got out of the car, and walked with Old Man Ma into the alley.

"Master, what was that girl's deal anyway? What happened to her?" I asked.

"The girl herself refuses to say, so why are you blindly prying? If you want to know, figure it out with your own eyes! And you call yourself my apprentice—what a waste of my teaching," he retorted bluntly.

The old man simply refused to tell me. If I could figure it out on my own, would I even have bothered asking him?

"And another thing, what kind of pattern did you fold those talismans into? Untangle them all right now! Talismans are folded for convenient storage; when you fold them this complicatedly, they easily get damaged when unfolded, and then the talismans lose their efficacy! And to think you're my apprentice! You don't even have this basic common sense!" he raged.

"Yes, yes, yes. This apprentice will keep it in mind and untangle every single one of them later." I had only folded a few when I was bored.

Come to think of it, this alley was quite deep. The shops along the way were all closed, and there were no streetlights, leaving everything pitch black. Old Man Ma, however, had a very clear destination in mind, walking straight toward the depths of the alley.

Seeing that the path was about to come to an end, I couldn't help asking, "Master, where on earth is this friend of yours?"

"What's the rush? We're here," Old Man Ma said, stopping in front of a shop at the very end.

This shop, like the others, was closed for the night. However, the difference was that while all the other shops used metal rolling shutters, this establishment still used ancient wooden plank doors—the kind made of individual wooden boards slotted together one by one and dismantled piece by piece when opening up.

Doors like this were extremely rare these days. The overall style of this shop looked thoroughly old and dilapidated, without the slightest intention of modernization, as if it had no fear of burglars whatsoever. What on earth did they sell inside?

Old Man Ma signaled for me to step forward and knock on the door.

I went up, rapped on the wood a few times, and called out, "Is anyone here?"

It was deathly quiet inside, without the slightest sound. I was about to knock again.

"Closed, we're closed for the day, go back," a small voice drifted out from within. The voice was rather thin and high-pitched, sounding remarkably like a child.

Old Man Ma raised his voice and said, "Go tell that fellow surnamed Tang that the old man has arrived, and see if he dares to keep this door shut."

Everything inside went dead silent once more, with not a peep to be heard. I had no idea what was going on.

After a short while, the sound of dismantling echoed out. A wooden plank was removed, and a thin, skinny young lad poked his head out, waving his hand to signal us to come in.

The interior of the shop was pitch black, exuding an inexplicable sense of gloom. Following Old Man Ma into the shop, a white horse abruptly loomed in the darkness. I was slightly startled, only to realize it was merely a paper horse. Looking closer at the items displayed on the shelves, they were all burial clothes, ingots, incense, candles, and paper offerings.

This was a joss paper and shroud shop!

The interior was murky to the extreme, and aside from that skinny young lad, there was no one else in sight. Had the voice I heard earlier belonged to him? But no matter how I listened, it had sounded like a child.

"Follow me," that thin, high-pitched voice piped up again.

I heard it crystal clear—it came from right beside the young lad!

I looked in the direction of the sound, but there was no one standing next to him. Instead, the lad was holding a birdcage in his other hand.

"Boss Tang is inside," the tiny voice came from the bird in the cage.

So it was a parrot. I had wondered what it was.

That raised the question: why didn't this fellow speak for himself, instead having a parrot do the talking?

The lad walked ahead, leading us upstairs.

There were no lights turned on anywhere in the house, leaving it shrouded in gloom. The stairs were made of wood and creaked loudly beneath our feet, as if they might snap at any moment. The wallpaper was peeling, mottled with age, and I could faintly hear the steady drip-drop of water from somewhere leaking inside.

This place was truly wretched; they really ought to renovate it, or a strong typhoon might just blow the whole structure away one day.

When we reached the second floor, a pungent wave of heavy alcohol washed over us. Had someone used liquor to mop the floor directly? The stench of booze was that overpowering.

The skinny lad walked up to a tightly shut door, rapped on it a few times, and the parrot in the cage squawked, "Boss Tang, someone's here. Boss Tang, someone's here."

"Damn it all, you old dog! How the hell do you still have the guts to come looking for me? Get lost!" a manic, roaring curse suddenly burst from inside the room.

This situation was entirely different from what I had imagined. This person clearly did not welcome Old Man Ma at all! Was this really a friend of his?