Chapter 29.3: Sitting Through the Night

“You’re trying to rouse your great-grandfather—who’s always been ‘rarely clear in his confusion’—and forcibly straighten him out. That’s a disruption to his way of life. It’s just that you haven’t succeeded yet.

Once you’ve learned more, gained more ability, and reached a higher level—not just paying lip service—then maybe you’ll actually manage to straighten him out.

So, you know what to do, right?

Old folks are like children. Just coax him a little. Isn’t that what you’re best at, kid?”

Li Zhuiyuan covered his face with both hands, slowly rubbing his cheeks.

Liu Yumei sipped her tea while watching him. When his hands finally dropped, his face was once again clean, cute, and childlike, bearing a smile full of innocence.

It made her want to pinch those cheeks, but emotion and reason clashed sharply within her.

“Granny Liu, where’s Runsheng?”

“He went out early to gather peanuts, should be back soon. Why?”

“I ordered something. I need Runsheng to go pick it up with me.”

“And then?”

“Then, obviously, I’m going to do what I have to do.”

Liu Yumei sat up straighter and leaned in close, studying the boy’s eyes. “You’re still going to keep doing this?”

“What else?”

“Aren’t you hurt, aggrieved, afraid?”

“No. All I know is, Great-grandpa really loves me.”

Even if, in some way, he was shielding his great-grandfather from calamity.

But first, it was his own choice to take this path. Second, he was always the one taking the initiative, caring for his great-grandfather, making decisions willingly. No one forced him.

Most importantly, his great-grandfather truly didn’t understand all this—he just adored his great-grandson, doted on him to no end.

So what if everything came with a price and had been transacted?

Li Zhuiyuan didn’t mind.

Li Sanjiang was still Li Sanjiang. Even after learning everything, Li Zhuiyuan’s view of him hadn’t changed. No—maybe it had, just a little. He could now coax him with a clear conscience. A child coaxing an old child.

Liu Yumei watched intently, hoping to catch even a flicker of extra emotion on the boy’s face—but she didn’t succeed.

How could that be?

Even between biological parents and children, in situations like this, even without immediate conflict, there would still be discomfort.

Yet this boy, in an instant, reduced everything to a few lines of cold logic, killing all unnecessary emotion cleanly.

It was frightening. Did this child have no emotions in his bones?

“There’s something I want to ask you. Remember that time when the paper effigies at home were ruined by rain, and your great-grandfather got seriously hurt? What did he do just before that?”

Li Zhuiyuan blinked his clear eyes and shook the teapot.

“Granny, the tea’s all gone.”

“Then brew another pot.”

“Can’t drink anymore, I’m stuffed.”

He patted his belly and stood up to tidy the tea set.

Just then, Runsheng returned, hoe slung over his shoulder.

“Runsheng, come with me to the old carpenter’s to pick something up.”

“Sure thing.”

Runsheng rinsed his feet at the well, then followed Li Zhuiyuan with a cart to the carpenter’s house.

The old carpenter was already waiting, items ready.

“Grandpa, my great-grandfather said he’ll settle the payment later.”

“Settle what? This is my advance offering to Uncle Sanjiang’s vigil.”

“Then you’d better write it down in a notebook. I’d hate for you to forget. May you live a long life.”

Li Zhuiyuan gave him a deep, respectful bow.

“Heh, you little rascal, where’d you learn to talk like this? Sweet talker.”

The old man pulled out a red envelope and handed it to him. “Here, buy yourself some candy.”

“I haven’t even paid you. How can I accept your money?”

“Different matters. You came by suddenly last time, I wasn’t prepared. First visit from a junior should be honored—that’s tradition.”

“Thank you, Grandpa.”

He accepted the envelope, and by then Runsheng had loaded everything onto the cart.

Back home, they moved the items up to the second floor.

To his surprise, Ar Li—freshly bathed and changed—was waiting in his room.

As soon as the items were brought in, she naturally began assembling them.

“Xiaoyuan, what are these? They look like stuff from our trade.”

“Yeah, they’re things from our trade.” He replied. “Runsheng, go watch some TV and have a snack. I’ll need your help later.”

“Alright, just holler.”

Once Runsheng left, Li Zhuiyuan and Ar Li got to work. It was simple labor but very satisfying.

Soon, everything was assembled.

Ar Li clasped her hands and looked at what they’d made together. Then she looked at the desk, still covered in blank schematics.

“I’ll keep drawing more. When the time comes, I’ll need your help again. I’m all thumbs—without you, I couldn’t do it.”

Her eyes sparkled like stars.

He handed her two cans of Jianlibao and told her to rest, then began organizing the tools.

There were six main items, plus four smaller ones.

The Soul-returning Basket (回魂筐), Homecoming Net (思乡网), and Seven-Star Hook (七星钩) were among them—though his great-grandfather also had these, they were fundamentally different. The old man’s tools only worked on motionless corpses. These were designed for more.

The Black Umbrella of Rebirth (罗生伞) was jet black; the book said it could block miasma when opened.

The Yellow River Spade (黄河铲) had interchangeable heads and was specialized for wet, marshy riverbanks—not quite like the Luoyang Spade.

The Seven-Star Hook extended seven segments, each referencing the Big Dipper, adaptable to different types of drowned spirits.

The final large item was the Three Pure Ones Fan (三清扇). He’d carved runes into each leaf and embedded prepared substances into hidden grooves. Its purpose? To slap himself.

If facing a Dead Sinker like the Cat-faced Granny, he could use it to jolt himself awake—slap his head, release a mist of special powder from a latch, snap out of hallucinations.

The small items included special black dog’s blood ink, black canvas with wood shavings etched by Ar Li, a simple wooden Bagua Compass, and a stack of self-drawn Yellow Talismans (符纸).

The canvas could be wrapped around him for protection or flung onto a Dead Sinker for damage, as per the book.

The compass was crude, the needle self-filed and inaccurate—but reliably so. He could mentally adjust it.

The talismans were his least confident work. First try, likely useless.

Even if they worked, what was he supposed to do—leap up and slap them on a Dead Sinker’s forehead?

He tested one. Flicked it—floated a meter, twirled back, fell behind him.

Worse than a playing card.

He’d test them properly later. If they had even a hint of effect, he’d try drawing them on playing card stock.

Still, the toolkit was complete.

Now it was time to test them.

He went to fetch Runsheng to try out a few tools—like the Seven-Star Hook and Yellow River Spade. Only someone strong could bring out their full power. Even without special properties, they’d still work as bludgeons.

Ar Li, still in the room, bent down and picked up the talisman.

She held it in her right palm, touched it with her left index finger, and gave a swift swipe.

Whoosh!

The talisman flew and stuck squarely in the center of the doorframe.

Just then, Li Zhuiyuan led Runsheng inside. To keep her distance, Ar Li jumped onto the bed, hugging her knees in the corner, watching as the boy explained the tools’ functions to Runsheng.

After learning and trying them out, Runsheng was amazed.

“Xiaoyuan, a lot of these look like the ones my grandpa had—but they’re on a whole different level.”

“Mine are the real deal.”

“Yeah, I can feel it. Good stuff. Really good stuff.”

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