Chapter 299: Tong Minggong Shou

The wind in front of the grass shrine stopped for a moment.

The bell toll that came from the direction of Xiaoman Stockade pinned everyone on the slope in place.

The one-eyed old man slumped in front of the offering table, the black thread on the back of his hand still moving.

The black thread crawled upward inch by inch, reached his wrist bone, and suddenly split into three strands. One dove toward the mountain-regulation ledger, one toward the cold rice bowl, and the last wrapped around the seven white-paper lamps.

All seven lamps turned red at the same time.

The heads of the assembly in front of the grass shrine changed color.

An old householder from Ma Family Gully hurriedly stepped back.

“Head Zhao, didn’t you say that after the evil offerings were cut off, these old accounts wouldn’t move anymore?”

The one-eyed elder Zhao Shoushan raised his head, his lips trembling.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

The old householder snapped.

“All these years of collecting incense money, recording wishes, and filing birthday tokens were approved by the Mountain-Regulation Assembly!”

“And now with one ‘I don’t know’ you want to wash your hands of it?”

The crowd instantly erupted into chaos.

Some cursed Zhao Shoushan, some cursed Fan Changhe, and others stared hard at Lu Yuan as if waiting for him to give an explanation.

Lu Yuan, however, looked at the seven red lamps.

The lamps were red, not because of strong flame.

There was blood in the lamp paper.

He walked to the first lamp and lightly lifted it with his fingertip.

The lamp paper split, revealing a short length of red cord.

Tied to the end of the red cord was half a bone fragment.

Two characters were carved on the bone fragment:

“Assembly seal.”

Lin Zhaoxuan was not present, so Xu Erxiao leaned in to look.

“Senior Brother, what’s this?”

“The Mountain-Regulation Assembly’s seal,” Lu Yuan said.

“In the old village covenants, rules required an assembly seal, witnesses, and each hamlet’s pledge mark.”

“They later moved this whole system onto the evil offerings.”

“So when the evil offerings were cut, the assembly seals stayed behind.”

Wang Cheng'an’s face darkened.

“So the evil deity’s account was cut, but the human-made accounts are still alive.”

“Yes.”

Lu Yuan looked at Zhao Shoushan.

“You put the evil offerings into the mountain regulations.”

“Now the evil offerings are gone, but the evil entries in the regulations haven’t been removed.”

Zhao Shoushan struggled to lift his head.

“How do you intend to remove them?”

“Open the ledger publicly,” Lu Yuan said, pointing at the mountain-regulation ledger.

“Split the mountain regulations into three volumes.”

“Human regulations.”

“Mountain roads.”

“Evil accounts.”

Zhao Shoushan’s face changed.

“If the evil accounts are listed separately, the seven hamlets and three gullies will all know who collected, who pledged, who forced.”

“That’s exactly what they should know.”

“That will cause deaths.”

“Many have already died.”

As those words fell, the names of people crushed by the old rules behind the grass shrine rose once more in a low voice,

“Zhang Shun.”

“Ma Gui.”

“Zhao Xiaohe.”

“Li Xiulan.”

The voices were neither hurried nor slow, yet pressed on the shoulders of each assembly head like hands.

A headman from the North Gully suddenly knelt.

“I admit it.”

Everyone looked at him.

He was about fifty, wearing an old leather jacket, his hands thick and black, dirt packed in his fingernails.

“My name is Chen Laokan.”

“In the winter of Republic Year Thirteen, I collected two birthday tokens for the Mountain-Regulation Assembly.”

“One was for Liu’s little girl, the other for Ma Family’s only child.”

“At the time I truly thought it was to protect life.”

“Later Liu’s little girl died, the Ma child lived.”

“I never dared ask again.”

He slapped his own face.

“I admit the evil accounts.”

As soon as he finished speaking, one of the seven red lamps suddenly went out.

A small wooden plaque fell from the lamp.

The plaque read:

“Chen Laokan, collected two birthday tokens.”

Lu Yuan bent to pick up the plaque.

“See?”

“This isn’t making you confess to the evil deity.”

“It’s making you turn what’s hidden beneath the name of gods back into human matters.”

“Human matters can be investigated, compensated, and punished.”

“Left under a god’s name, they will only keep killing.”

A second headman also knelt.

“My name is Zhou Dafu.”

“I collected incense money.”

Third.

“My name is Ma Qingshan.”

“I wrote a borrowed-life contract.”

Fourth.

“My name is Sun Guaizi.”

“I led the route when the old forest sent shadows.”

One by one they knelt.

Each time someone gave their name and the deed they had done, a red lamp went out and a wooden plaque fell.

Six of the seven lamps quickly went out.

Only the final lamp remained.

That lamp hung above the grass shrine’s main gate; its paper was the reddest, as if freshly soaked in blood.

All eyes turned to Zhao Shoushan.

Zhao Shoushan sat in the snow, his one eye cloudy.

He looked at that lamp for a long time.

“This lamp is not mine.”

Xu Erxiao sneered.

“You still want to deny it?”

Zhao Shoushan shook his head.

“My lamp already fell.”

He opened his palm; indeed there was a wooden plaque.

On it was written:

“Zhao Shoushan, established offering.”

Wang Cheng'an frowned.

“Then whose is the last lamp?”

Lu Yuan looked inside the grass shrine.

There was no deity statue in the shrine, only an empty offering table.

On the earthen wall behind the table hung an old wooden plaque.

The plaque had been blackened by smoke; no one had noticed it earlier.

Now, as the last red lamp cast its light, two characters slowly came into view on the plaque:

“Public deliberation.”

Zhou Heng said in a low voice:

“Public deliberation?”

Zhao Shoushan’s face went ashen.

“When the seven hamlets and three gullies set the mountain regulations, the final seal did not belong to an individual.”

“It belonged to the public deliberation.”

“If the public deliberation is also included in the evil accounts…”

He didn’t finish the sentence.

Lu Yuan finished it for him:

“That means it wasn’t a single head’s wrongdoing.”

“The whole Mountain-Regulation Assembly treated the evil offerings as regulation.”

The last red lamp suddenly shook violently.

Many people’s voices came from inside it.

Not ghost voices.

The voices of living people.

“Back then it was everyone’s consent.”

“Who hasn’t burned incense?”

“Who hasn’t asked for life-protection?”

“Don’t pretend to be clean.”

“If you want to settle accounts, then the seven hamlets and three gullies must settle together.”

The crowd grew agitated again.

Those words were poisonous.

They did not absolve a single person; they dragged everyone into the filth together.

If everyone believed they were partly responsible, then no one dared to lift the lid.

Zhao Shoushan looked up at Lu Yuan.

“This is the hardest part.”

“If public deliberation is tainted, no one dares cut it off.”

“If it’s cut, the seven hamlets and three gullies will blame each other.”

“If it isn’t cut, the evil account will always have roots.”

Lu Yuan stepped into the grass shrine and stood before the “Public Deliberation” plaque.

“What was public deliberation originally for?”

Zhao Shoushan said:

“Dividing mountain fields, repairing roads, famine relief, deciding funerals, settling disputes.”

“Which of those gives you a reason to collect birthday tokens, borrow life contracts, and pledge shadows?”

Zhao Shoushan said nothing.

“None,” Lu Yuan said.

Lu Yuan raised his hand and formed the “Correct-Deliberation Seal.”

This seal was not an evil-slaying formula;

it was a Daoist method used to correct names and contracts when handling village covenants, oaths, and agreements.

Left palm faced up, four fingers slightly curved as if supporting a roll of papers; right index and middle fingers together, pressing on the center of the left palm, thumb holding down the ring finger.

“Deliberation is for the people, not for evil deliberation.”

“Public is for the people, not a private debt.”

“All rules set by the people must protect the people’s lives.”

“If the names of the people are used to press down one life, and the public deliberation hides evil contracts—”

“A deliberation that is not deliberation, a public that is not public.”

“Correct!”

He pointed one finger at the center of the “Public Deliberation” plaque.

The plaque trembled violently.

Inside came the clamoring of hundreds and thousands of voices.

“I agreed!”

“I didn’t agree!”

“I didn’t know!”

“I thought it saved lives!”

“I was afraid not to sign, that my child would have no path!”

“I was afraid not to offer, that the village would say I harmed the whole hamlet!”

Lu Yuan let those voices fight.

He did not suppress them.

When the voices quieted somewhat, he spoke.

“Before you agreed, did you know the cost?”

The plaque trembled.

“Did you know whose birthdays you were collecting?”

“Did you know behind the borrowed-life contracts it also wrote entry into the mountain?”

“Did you know the offering cart nailed living shadows into the old forest?”

“Did you know how many nameless planks are under the righteous well?”

Each question split the plaque a fraction.

At last the plaque fell into a dead silence.

Lu Yuan said:

“Consent formed without knowledge does not count.”

“Consent forced by fear does not count.”

“Consent pressed out by assembly heads, altar-keepers, incense contracts, and ghost names does not count.”

“The public deliberation now withdraws from evil.”

“The mountain regulations are rebuilt.”

“Break!”

The plaque split in two.

The last red lamp went out.

What fell from the lamp was not a wooden plaque but a black seal.

Four characters were carved on that seal:

“Seven Hamlets Public Deliberation.”

The seal was broken in half.

When Zhao Shoushan saw the seal, he seemed to age ten years.

“This seal has been passed down three generations.”

“From today it cannot be used anymore.”

Lu Yuan placed the broken seal on the offering table.

“The old seal is sealed away.”

“A new seal will be carved.”

“Do not carve gods on the new seal, do not carve mountain, do not carve life-protection.”

Wang Cheng'an asked, “Carve what?”

Lu Yuan said:

“Carve people.”

Silence spread before the grass shrine.

“Seven hamlets and three gullies, mutual-assistance public deliberation.”

“These eight characters are enough.”

Zhao Shoushan peered at him.

“Mutual-assistance.”

He seemed as if he hadn’t said those two words in many years.

Lu Yuan continued:

“Establish a common granary; assembly heads shall not control it privately.”

“Open the granary once a month; each hamlet sends two people to inspect the grain.”

“The righteous manor roster shall be publicly checked every year at Qingming and Cold-Clothes Day.”

“Mountain-road boundary posts shall be clear, maintained by the herders; anyone privately moving posts shall be judged as causing death.”

“Physician, midwife, and herder fees shall be shared by the seven hamlets and three gullies.”

“The bell reports only personnel matters.”

“Incense goes only into ancestral graves, not into mountain entry.”

“Anyone who petitions gods to take lives shall be expelled from the Mountain-Regulation Assembly.”

Zhao Shoushan looked at the assembly heads in front of the grass shrine.

Some bowed their heads, some were silent, some were still unwilling, but no one dared argue.

Because the red lamps had gone out.

The public-deliberation seal had split.

The names behind the shrine still whispered in the wind and snow.

This time, they no longer demanded lives.

They sounded like onlookers.

Zhao Shoushan slowly rose.

He flipped open the mountain-regulation ledger and tore off the front old oath.

On that page was written:

“Those who enter the mountain revere the mountain; those who receive from the mountain return to the mountain.”

He glanced at it and put it into the stove ash fire with his own hands.

The paper burned slowly.

At the end, the two characters “return to the mountain” curled into black ash.

Zhao Shoushan picked up a pen and wrote on a new page:

“Those who enter the mountain watch over each other; those in trouble are helped together.”

His hand shook violently; the characters were ugly.

When that final stroke landed, a light sound came from beneath the grass shrine earth

as if some old lock had snapped.

Xu Erxiao whispered:

“Senior Brother, is this counted now?”

Lu Yuan looked at the new regulation page.

“This is only the beginning.”

“The beginning is enough,” Wang Cheng'an said, tucking his abacus under his armpit, “the accounts must be recalculated from page one.”

In front of the grass shrine, several young assembly heads began to follow Lu Yuan’s instructions and redivide the ledger.

One volume for human regulations.

One for mountain roads.

One for evil accounts.

The evil accounts were no longer hidden within the mountain regulations but sealed separately, entrusted to the rotating custody of the seven hamlets and three gullies, to be checked later for compensation, burial, and name establishment.

Lu Yuan had everyone who had participated in the evil accounts press their fingerprints at the end of the volume.

Some refused; Zhou Heng simply stood behind them.

Those men then pressed their prints.

As dusk deepened, the West Ridge grass shrine finally had no more white-paper lamps.

The seven lamps were taken down, their paper torn open, the red cords and bone fragments removed and placed into a ceramic jar.

Lu Yuan stuck yellow paper on the jar’s mouth.

“These are evidentiary items, not evil items.”

“Do not burn.”

“After each hamlet has acknowledged their accounts, bury them beside the righteous manor and erect a stele explaining.”

Zhao Shoushan asked:

“What will the stele say?”

Lu Yuan thought for a moment.

“Write: This place once used rules to harm people; future generations do not emulate.”

Zhao Shoushan closed his eyes.

“All right.”

Outside the grass shrine, the wind and snow eased.

Two points of firelight rose in the distance from the direction of Ma Family Gully.

They were messengers coming with news.

A young man of seventeen or eighteen arrived, his face red from running.

“Daoist Lu!”

“Something happened over at Ma Family Gully!”

Lu Yuan turned.

“What is it?”

“After the righteous well was sealed, the water cleared.”

“That should have been good.”

“But someone just pulled a small coffin out of the well.”

“The coffin had your notice attached.”

Xu Erxiao frowned.

“What do you mean, ‘attached your notice’?”

The young man gasped for breath and said:

“It’s the phrase you wrote: ‘No gods in the mountain, the living guard themselves.’”

“The characters are the same.”

“But there was another line below it.”

Lu Yuan asked:

“What does it say?”

The young man swallowed.

“‘The living guard themselves; who guards the dead?’”

Silence fell again in front of the grass shrine.

Zhao Shoushan’s face turned white.

“Is there more under the righteous well?”

Lu Yuan did not answer immediately.

He asked the young man:

“Has the small coffin been opened?”

“No.”

“Who sent you?”

“Mister Meng.”

“What did he say?”

“He said it must not be opened, wait for your return.”

Lu Yuan nodded.

“He did the right thing.”

Song Qinghe was not at his side, Lin Zhaoxuan was not there either.

Lu Yuan looked at the assembly heads in front of the grass shrine.

“You just established new rules.”

“Now the first matter arrives.”

“A coffin was pulled from the righteous well in Ma Family Gully.”

“Under the old rules, what would be done?”

An old householder whispered:

“Burn incense, invite spirits, ask the coffin questions.”

Another said:

“If the coffin does not sink, it means the dead are to be offered.”

A third said:

“If the coffin has a living-name written on it, find the scribe to take responsibility.”

After everyone spoke, they fell into silence.

Lu Yuan said:

“Follow the new rules.”

Zhao Shoushan gripped the mountain-regulation ledger.

“The righteous manor inspects the coffin; the hamlet acts as witness; the deceased are registered; do not open the altar.”

Lu Yuan looked at him.

“Then let’s go.”

“Seven hamlets and three gullies, each dispatch one person to Ma Family Gully.”

“Not to worship.”

“To witness.”

Torches were soon lit in front of the grass shrine.

This time the torches were not to invite gods but to light the way.

The procession went down West Ridge straight toward Ma Family Gully.

On the road, Wang Cheng'an asked softly:

“Senior Brother, if the evil offerings were cut, why is there still a small coffin in the well?”

“Because the evil offerings that were cut were the feeding sites.”

“Not everything harmed disappears at once.”

“Some things were buried too deep and only surface once the water clears.”

“What is that small coffin?”

Lu Yuan stared into the dark ahead.

“I don’t know.”

“But it asked a true question.”

Xu Erxiao said, “Who guards the dead?”

“Yes,” Lu Yuan replied.

“‘The living guard themselves’ is only half the sentence.”

“The dead must also have someone to remember them.”

“If no one remembers, the old evil altar will sooner or later use that gap to come back.”

Zhou Heng said in a low voice:

“Therefore the righteous manor roster must be firmly established.”

“Mm.”

“The dead get names; the living keep bodies.”

“If either side is missing, trouble will happen.”

By the time night fully fell, they had arrived at Ma Family Gully.

The village entrance was full of people, but no one burned incense.

Each person held a torch.

Mister Meng, Meng An, Song Qinghe, and Lin Zhaoxuan were all by the well.

By the well lay the small coffin.

It was barely three feet long, made of black wood, unvarnished, only a layer of water-stain on it.

A white paper was stuck to the coffin lid.

On that paper were indeed Lu Yuan’s characters:

“No gods in the mountain, the living guard themselves.”

The line below was crooked, like a child had scratched it with a fingernail:

“The living guard themselves, who guards the dead?”

Lu Yuan walked to the coffin and first looked at the coffin bottom.

There was no mud on the bottom.

Only a layer of fine sand.

This indicated it had not been buried in well silt for years and then floated up.

It had just been carried out by the water.

Lin Zhaoxuan said quietly:

“I didn’t open it.”

“Is there a sound in the coffin?”

“There is.”

“What sound?”

“Someone knocking.”

As if in answer, a light three knocks came from inside the small coffin.

Tok.

Meng An went pale.

“This is not a ghost knock.”

Lu Yuan nodded.

“A ghost knocks in rush and frenzy.”

“This is a person knocking for the door.”

Song Qinghe asked, “Open it?”

Lu Yuan did not open at once.

He first had the witnesses from each hamlet form a circle.

“Follow the new rules.”

“Before opening the coffin, report the witnesses.”

Zhao Shoushan spoke first:

“Zhao Shoushan, West Ridge grass shrine, witness.”

Each of the seven hamlets and three gullies then gave their names as witnesses.

Finally Lu Yuan said:

“Lu Yuan, open the coffin and ask the name.”

He formed the “Open Coffin, Calm Seal” with his right hand.

Index and middle finger together pressed at the coffin head, thumb pressing the ring finger, little finger against his palm.

“The coffin is a dwelling for the deceased, not a door to evil.”

“Open without startling the soul, ask the name without seizing the spirit.”

“If it is the dead, report its posthumous name.”

“If it is a living thing, return it to its body.”

“If it is an evil contract, break it before the crowd.”

“Open.”

The coffin lid slid open slowly.

Inside there was no corpse.

Only a roll of name-register wrapped in oiled paper.

Beside the register lay a tiny rattle drum.

The drumhead was half rotted away.

Two characters were carved on the drum handle:

“Xiaoman.”

Standing at the back of the crowd, Asheng suddenly clutched his chest.

“Mine?”

Lu Yuan picked up the rattle drum.

The drum gave a single soft sound the moment it left the coffin.

Thump.

Not a drumbeat.

Like a heartbeat.

The oiled-paper register unfolded by itself.

The first page read:

“Those not yet entered into evil offerings.”

The second page:

“Those without return names.”

The third page:

“Those not remembered.”

The names that followed were dense and countless.

All children.

Some were only recorded by their baby names.

Some were written as “someone’s little son.”

Some were only a little handprint drawn on the page.

Mister Meng’s voice trembled:

“This is… children who didn’t have time to be recorded.”

Lu Yuan flipped to the last page.

The last page was blank except for a small line of characters in the lower right corner:

“With the protective-life evil altar cut off, child names have no place to return.”

Xu Erxiao hurriedly said:

“Isn’t that good? With the evil altar gone, aren’t they free?”

Lu Yuan looked at the tiny rattle drum.

“Freedom does not equal having a place to belong.”

“These children are too small.”

“Some did not have names set, some were not placed into ancestral graves, some died on escape routes.”

“The evil altar once mistakenly kept them.”

“Now the altar is gone; someone must send them back to their rightful human positions.”

“Otherwise, sooner or later someone will use the fact that children are unguarded to set up a protective-life altar again.”

Zhao Shoushan said quietly:

“Then how should they be guarded?”

Lu Yuan said:

“Not by gods.”

“Remember them by the living.”

“The righteous manor keeps a register.”

“Every Cold-Clothes Day give nameless children added paper clothes.”

“Not to ask them to protect.”

“But to tell the people who come later that they existed.”

He put the rattle drum back into the coffin and handed the register to Meng An.

“You once kept the lamp and recorded names.”

“This Child-Name Register, you will copy it.”

Meng An bowed solemnly.

“I will copy it.”

Asheng stepped forward and looked at the rattle drum.

“Brother Lu, is the Xiaoman on here me?”

Lu Yuan looked at the drum handle.

“The name Xiaoman used to belong to more than you.”

“Many nameless children were called Xiaoman, Xiaoshun, Xiaobao.”

“The evil altar mixed all these little names together.”

“You came out from inside and took the name Asheng.”

“This drum does not call you back.”

“It tells you there are other children who have not come out.”

Asheng was silent for a long time.

“Then I will copy too.”

Lu Yuan nodded.

“All right.”

There was no incense at Ma Family Gully’s well.

They lit torches and set a temporary table beside the righteous well.

Meng An and Asheng sat at the table, copying the Child-Name Register stroke by stroke.

If they could write a full name, they did.

If they could not, they wrote the baby name.

If there was no baby name, they drew small handprints and recorded where they were found.

Song Qinghe set the bronze lamp at the corner of the table.

The flame was small but steadied the paper.

Around midnight, a soft laughter came from among the pines.

Not an evil laugh.

It sounded like many children running across the snow in the distance.

Old Liu’s grandson, Chen Mancang, was brought over still feverish.

The child’s fever hadn’t broken, but he was awake, his eyes half open, and he mumbled one word:

“Water.”

The town physician hurriedly gave him warm water.

Old Liu knelt at the table and wept as if she could not stop.

“I won’t beg the gods anymore.”

“I will add clothes for these little ones in the future.”

Lu Yuan did not stop her from crying.

By the time the first volume of the Child-Name Register had been copied, dawn was already whitening the sky.

The small coffin was closed again.

This time a new paper was affixed to the lid.

The paper read:

“Child names temporarily stored, await kin to recognize.”

Below, the witnesses from the seven hamlets and three gullies each pressed their seals.

When Zhao Shoushan pressed his seal last, his hand trembled fiercely.

“Daoist Lu.”

“Mm?”

“Is this the answer to ‘who guards the dead’?”

“It’s not ‘who guards the dead’,” Lu Yuan said.

“It’s: the living must not forget.”

At daybreak, the well water in Ma Family Gully was completely clear.

One could see the stones and water plants at the bottom.

No red cords.

No wooden plaques.

No black shadows.

Lu Yuan stood at the well edge and finally exhaled deeply.

But just as everyone thought they could rest, a horse suddenly came at full gallop from the direction of the Northern Righteous Manor.

Zhou Heng was on the horse.

He should have been by the well.

Everyone turned and realized the Zhou Heng at the foot of the well had disappeared without anyone noticing.

The mounted Zhou Heng pulled on the reins, his face streaked with snow, his voice hoarse:

“Lu Yuan, don’t trust the people by the well!”

“I just rushed from Northern Righteous Manor.”

“Someone borrowed my shadow and mixed into your group!”

The people at the well turned instantly.

The “Zhou Heng” standing behind Lu Yuan slowly raised his head;

his face began to blur.

The corner of his mouth split open to reveal a tiny shadow nail.

“Too late,” he said.

“The Child-Name Register is already written.”

“A new protective-life altar can now be established.”

The bronze lamp suddenly went very dim.

On the Child-Name Register they had just copied, beneath each child’s name, a tiny line of characters quietly appeared:

“Witness: Lu Yuan.”

Lu Yuan’s eyes chilled instantly.

He pressed his hand on the Child-Name Register.

“So you never left.”

“You’re not the evil deity.”

“You are the shadow left by the people who guarded the rules.”

The fake Zhou Heng smiled.

“Rules must be kept by someone.”

From the deep well water, a small little palm slowly pressed to the water’s surface.

In its palm it held a newly carved seal.

Four characters on the seal were just beginning to reveal themselves:

“Child-Name Public Guard.”

Lu Yuan gripped the half-broken blade.

“All right.”

“Then we’ll test the rules once more.”