Chapter 306: Six people share the same name

Lu Yuan did not look back.

"Don't turn around," he said.

Wang Cheng'an's steps faltered.

He could feel the silhouette of that empty abacus pressing onto the snow beside his shadow. That shadow had no feet, only the hem of a long robe and two thin hands, holding an abacus, quietly trailing behind them.

Xu Erxiao swallowed the dregs of sleep.

"How long is it going to follow us?"

"When we enter the Guardian Mountain Discussion Altar," Lin Zhaoxuan said.

"And after we enter?"

"See if it belongs to the altar."

"What if it doesn't?"

Lu Yuan said, "Then let it stay outside."

The seven of them moved eastward.

The lane behind the stele wasn't wide; beneath the snow lay a layer of black gravel. After less than half a li, wooden stakes began appearing on both sides of the lane.

The stakes were short, only knee-high. Each stake had an iron bell nailed to it. The clapper was tied with thin thread, the thread running from the bell down into the snow. When the wind blew, the iron bells did not ring.

Only when they passed did the bells tremble faintly.

When the first bell rang, the seventh shadow behind Wang Cheng'an paused for a moment.

When the second bell rang, a white bead appeared in the abacus of the shadow.

Xu Erxiao said in a low voice, "It's been picking things up along the way."

Wang Cheng'an's urge to look back grew stronger.

"Don't look," Lu Yuan reminded again. "If you see its face, it can borrow your eyes to enter you."

"It has no face."

"Having no face is even more dangerous."

Lin Zhaoxuan studied the stakes on both sides.

"These aren't warning bells."

"They're route bells."

"Each bell records how many people have passed. When people used to walk this road, they didn't ring because the travelers were registered. Now the master ledger is broken, the bells have started verifying people on their own."

Zhou Heng picked up a wooden slat revealed from under the snow.

A line of small characters was carved on the slat:

"Those who pass the gate, left hand holds name, right hand holds road."

"Left hand holds name, right hand holds road," Song Qinghe repeated. "Isn't that just one side proving who you are, the other proving where you came from?"

Lu Yuan said, "That was probably the oldest Guardian Mountain rule."

"Later they turned 'hold name' into registration, 'hold road' into verification stamps, and finally they withheld both road and name together."

The stakes ahead suddenly grew denser.

Bells rang one after another, like someone counting off numbers in the dark.

"Seventeen."

"Twenty-nine."

"Thirty-seven."

"Six."

"Eleven."

Each time a number was called, a blurry footprint surfaced in the snow.

Those prints pointed in different directions—some north, some south, some that took only half a step before cutting off in the snow.

Wang Cheng'an immediately stopped and slid his abacus.

"These aren't the dead shadows from the counting house just now."

"They are people who walked this road but never entered the gate."

"They were recorded, but not sent away."

Xu Erxiao looked at those half-footprints. "Where did they go?"

No one answered.

A hand suddenly reached up from under the snow and grabbed Xu Erxiao's ankle.

Xu Erxiao looked down and saw half a red cord tied around the wrist—the very cord that had fallen out of the third wooden tablet at the riverbank.

He chopped down with his short sword and cut the wrist.

The severed hand flipped in the snow, palm up.

Three characters were written on the palm:

"Guide fee."

Xu Erxiao's face drained of color with anger.

"They charge even when they're dead?"

Wang Cheng'an crouched to take a look.

"It's not money."

"It's the road."

The severed hand's five fingers slowly bent, pointing back toward them.

The seventh shadow was inserting a white bead into the empty abacus.

The bead fell with a crisp sound.

"Guide fee—one bead per person."

Lu Yuan raised his hand. A copper coin flew out and was nailed onto the abacus.

The white bead immediately cracked into two.

"Who allowed you to charge people for their road?"

The seventh shadow did not answer.

It only lifted the abacus and gave it a gentle flick.

All the iron bells on both sides rang at once.

Under the ringing, the snow surface split open with a long crack. Beneath the crack there was no earth, only densely packed route slips.

Each route slip had various people's names written on it, all stamped with the same seal:

"Road fee paid."

Lin Zhaoxuan bent to pick up one.

"These people have to pay again after passing the mountain mouth."

"What kind of road?"

Zhou Heng read a fine line of characters on the back of the route slip:

"Path to settlement."

"Entering beyond the gate through North Mountain Pass is only the first checkpoint. Afterwards you must pass three settlement gates; at each one you must verify your name, hand over your shadow, and leave a seal."

"That rule still continues?"

Lu Yuan nodded.

"The Guardian Mountain Discussion Altar hasn't disappeared."

"Qi Shousuan was only the master ledger; the ones who truly set the rules are still inside the altar."

The seventh shadow suddenly lurched forward and pressed up against Wang Cheng'an's back.

Wang Cheng'an's shadow stretched and, from under his feet, a thin thread extended forward into the valley.

Lu Yuan slashed and severed the thread.

The blade fell silently, but the thread oozed black blood.

For the first time, the seventh shadow spoke.

The voice sounded neither like Qi Shousuan nor like any living person.

"Descendant of the Wang family, holder of the old abacus."

"The altar awaits you."

Wang Cheng'an turned his head, anger suppressed in his eyes.

"Who are you exactly?"

The shadow lifted a blank face.

"After the chief account comes the guarding of the mountain."

"After guarding the mountain comes establishing the gate."

"You have reached the final checkpoint."

Lu Yuan said, "You are not a guide shadow."

"You are a welcoming shadow sent by the altar."

"Welcomers must have invitation slips."

"You have no slip."

The abacus in the shadow's hands came to a light stop.

"I have the shadows of six people."

"Then you should be even less allowed to follow us."

Lu Yuan turned to face it.

"Travelers do not share shadows."

"This is what we already said."

He raised his knife and pointed at the shadow.

"If you take one more step forward, I'll peel you out from the six people's shadows."

The seventh shadow did not move.

But the shadow beneath Wang Cheng'an suddenly rose like a black wall, enveloping him completely.

The clack of abacus beads grew furious.

Wang Cheng'an only had time to shout, "Brother Lu!" before being swallowed by the black wall.

Xu Erxiao swung his sword. The blade plunged into the black shadow, sinking as if into deep water.

"Cheng'an!"

Lu Yuan did not act rashly.

He watched words continually surface across the black wall.

"Wang An."

"Wang Shouyi."

"Wang Chengquan."

"Wang family counting house."

"Descendant of the chief account."

Many names flashed over Wang Cheng'an's face in succession, as if someone were picking the most fitting name for him.

Lin Zhaoxuan bit his fingertip and drew a vertical line on the black wall with ink.

"This is borrowed shadow," he said.

"It hasn't taken Cheng'an away. It's trying to make him pick a clan name."

Zhou Heng said, "Once chosen, he will no longer be Wang Cheng'an."

Song Qinghe brought her lamp close to the black wall.

In the lamplight, Wang Cheng'an's figure sat in a dim counting house. Opposite him was an old man whose face couldn't be seen clearly; three books lay on the table.

One read "Wang Family Ancestral Ledger."

One read "Guardian Mountain Master Ledger."

The last read "Inheritance of Chief Account."

The old man pushed the abacus toward him.

"Repay your father's unpaid debts."

Wang Cheng'an stood before the table, fists clenched.

"What my father owed you doesn't mean I owe it."

"The abacus is in your hands."

"I brought it here."

"To bring it is to inherit it."

"Then I'll repay you now."

Wang Cheng'an grabbed the abacus and smashed it into the old man's face.

The abacus shattered, but the old man did not flinch.

He raised a hand and pointed at the three books.

"If you do not accept the chief account, the Wang family will forever bear the burdened name."

"If you accept it, you can clear the names of six hundred and forty-eight people."

Wang Cheng'an stared at those books, his chest heaving violently.

He knew it was false.

Yet those six hundred and forty-eight names were still scattered about. Some might never return to their original homes. Some descendants still carried the label 'Pending Verification.'

If he took the abacus, maybe he could truly clear the accounts for them all.

The old man added, "If you won't be the chief account, who will?"

Wang Cheng'an looked up.

"Let everyone record themselves."

"When too many people record, chaos ensues."

"Chaos must be sorted line by line."

"If it can never be sorted?"

"That still doesn't mean you can make one person cover all names."

The old man suddenly smiled.

"You and your senior brother like to talk about roads."

"Accounts are not roads."

"Accounts are nails. Nail one down, and you can secure the group."

Wang Cheng'an snatched the three volumes and slammed them onto the table.

"I won't accept the chief account."

"The Wang family will not establish a master name."

"Debts should only look for the debtors."

The black shadow in the counting room exploded instantly.

Outside, the black wall cracked open.

Seizing the chance, Lu Yuan wedged his broken knife into the fissure and pried hard.

"Cheng'an, get out!"

Wang Cheng'an rolled out of the black wall, clutching the "Wang Family Ancestral Ledger."

Countless hands reached from the black wall and grabbed at his clothes.

Xu Erxiao, Zhou Heng, and Lin Zhaoxuan struck in unison.

Short sword, copper coin, and ink thread overlapped, tearing the black wall apart.

Song Qinghe shone her lamp into the gap. The white flame flashed, and every black hand released simultaneously.

The seventh shadow retreated three steps.

The empty abacus in its hands finally shattered.

Only a single string remained, still taut between its hands.

"You refuse the chief account."

"Then you are unqualified to enter the altar."

Wang Cheng'an stood, dusting the snow from his shoulders.

"Fine."

"We were not here to enter the altar."

"We were here to demand justice."

The seventh shadow gave a low, hoarse laugh.

It raised a hand and pointed into the valley.

At some point in the distance, dozens of lamps had been lit.

The lights were arranged in a circle, surrounding a stone platform half-buried in snow. Behind the platform, the mountains rose like a black wall. The cliff face had many square recesses, each holding a faceless wooden figure draped in clothing.

The wooden figures had no faces.

Each chest bore a plaque.

"Guardian Proposal One."

"Guardian Proposal Two."

"Guardian Proposal Three."

They continued in sequence up to "Guardian Proposal Twelve."

A black stone gate stood at the center of the platform.

A fresh impression had been carved into the gate.

It wasn't "migrate," nor "come" or "go."

It was a large character: "Public."

Lin Zhaoxuan's face darkened.

"They gathered the name papers that scattered after the master altar broke and centralized them here."

"They want to use 'public deliberation' as cover to reestablish the evil rules."

Song Qinghe said, "The old master altar used the Gate Master as the master name. The Guardian Mountain Discussion Altar wants public deliberation as its master name."

"Different wording, same root."

Zhou Heng looked at the faceless wooden people.

"Are all twelve proposals run by someone?"

"They're not people," Lu Yuan said. "They are the twelve old mountain rules."

The lamps on the platform simultaneously turned toward them.

Under each lamp floated a line of characters.

"Proposal One: Arrivals must verify name."

"Proposal Two: No seal, no entry to settlement."

"Proposal Three: Dao schools relocate households back to sect."

"Proposal Four: Borrowed shadows may not travel alone."

"Proposal Five: Deceased names may not be erased."

"Proposal Six: One household, one master name."

"Proposal Seven: Refugees subject to three generations pending verification."

"Proposal Eight: Those without guarantors remain at the gate."

"Proposal Nine: Name changes may not return to the old name."

"Proposal Ten: Marriages outside the gate must be re-registered."

"Proposal Eleven: Strangers' Dao names temporarily withheld."

"Proposal Twelve: All names return to the public."

When the final four characters landed, the black gate on the platform slowly opened.

Twelve people sat beyond the gate.

They wore old-style robes, faces covered by white cloth, only eyes exposed. Each had a wooden box before them containing the seal for their proposal.

In the middle sat a tall, thin man without a face covering.

He looked no older than forty, with clean-cut features. He wore a blue, faded long robe. There were no weapons by his side, only a roll of white paper.

Six names had already been written on his white paper.

Lu Yuan.

Wang Cheng'an.

Xu Erxiao.

Lin Zhaoxuan.

Zhou Heng.

Song Qinghe.

The man looked up.

"Guardian Mountain Discussion Altar has waited long for you."

Lu Yuan stared at him.

"Who are you?"

"One who establishes the gate."

"Name."

The man smiled slightly.

"If I report my name first, I will fall into your rules."

"Aren't you the ones who most uphold rules?"

"Rules are for those who pass through."

"Gate founders do not need them?"

The man did not answer, only pushed the white paper forward an inch.

"After the master altar broke, six hundred and forty-seven name items scattered. If they are not reconsolidated publicly, the region beyond the gate will descend into chaos."

"Who will be in chaos?"

"The settlements will be in chaos, the mountain roads will be in chaos, sects will be in chaos; people with unclear origins will mix in, old names and new names will conflict, the dead and the living will dispute land."

"So you want to collect all the names back."

"Collecting is not swallowing."

"I only want to give them a traceable place."

Lu Yuan swept his gaze across the platform.

"A traceable place doesn't need twelve faceless wooden figures."

"Nor does it need to write people down as 'pending verification.'"

"Nor to detain marriage registers, Dao names, and ancestral names inside the gate."

The man's eyes darkened for the first time.

"You think that by tearing one door in the master altar you can dismantle decades of order?"

"If the order relies on withholding names, it should be dismantled."

"After you dismantle it, who bears the consequences?"

"Each village and household will decide for themselves."

"Without a grand account to unify, they will quarrel over land, surnames, sects, and incense offerings."

"They quarrel, then judge; wrongs will be corrected."

"And if there is no judge?"

"Let them speak first."

The man laughed.

"You six truly only speak empty words."

He waved his hand.

Six lights surged, illuminating the cliff face beside the platform.

The cliff was densely covered with names.

Beside each name was a round recess with a small wooden plaque inserted.

Some plaques faced outward, some inward.

The man said, "Over the years, the Guardian Mountain Discussion Altar has stored thirty-seven thousand two hundred and sixteen names for the region beyond the gate."

"Whoever moved in, whoever left, who died on the way, whose incense was severed—there are records."

"If you want to dismantle the altar, take these names away first."

"If you can't take them, don't talk about freedom."

Xu Erxiao looked at the cliff and could not help but say, "If you really record carefully, I wouldn't have a problem."

"But you don't record names, you record binding nooses."

"If they want to reclaim their own names, on what grounds will you stop them?"

"Because once they reclaim, no one can guarantee there won't be trouble."

"I guarantee it."

"What are you?"

Xu Erxiao pointed his sword at him.

"I am Xu Erxiao."

"Not someone on your 'pending verification' list, not an appended name under Brother Lu, not anyone's shadow."

"No matter if you record it or not, I will always be called that."

The man regarded him for a moment, then raised his hand.

The "All Names Return to the Public" seal on the chest of Proposal Twelve glowed.

Xu Erxiao's shadow was immediately yanked toward the platform by a force.

He stumbled forward, his knees nearly sinking into the snow.

Lu Yuan grabbed him.

"Xu Erxiao, report your full name."

"Xu Erxiao!"

"Place of origin."

"Small Stone Settlement in the gate!"

"Traveling with."

"Brother Lu, Wang Cheng'an, Lin Zhaoxuan, Zhou Heng, Song Qinghe!"

The shadow struggled to withdraw.

Lu Yuan shouted, "Report your place of origin again!"

Xu Erxiao confirmed.

He had never considered the question.

He left Small Stone Settlement with Lu Yuan and had followed him to Ma Family Gully, Northern Guan Righteous Manor, the ruined brick kiln, and now had reached North Mountain Pass.

But if this road ends, where would he go?

The "All Names Return to the Public" seal on the platform shone ever brighter.

The man said calmly, "See."

"He doesn't even have a place to return to."

"People without a place can only return to public."

Xu Erxiao's face flushed red. His lips quivered. Finally he shouted, "I will return to Small Stone Settlement!"

"And after you go back?"

"Go back..."

He choked on the words.

The man said, "After you return, you still have no land, no household, no guarantor, no registration. You may call yourself Xu Erxiao, but no one will acknowledge you."

Xu Erxiao swayed.

Lu Yuan pressed his shoulder.

"A place of origin doesn't mean someone has already written it down for you."

"Not knowing it now doesn't mean it doesn't exist."

Xu Erxiao gritted his teeth.

"I will return to Small Stone Settlement."

"First move my mother's grave back to the west of the settlement."

"Next, find back my family's land."

"If we can't find it, cultivate wasteland ourselves."

"If we can't farm, then I'll follow Brother Lu."

"Wherever we end up, that's where I'll be."

"That is my place of origin!"

The lamp on the platform suddenly went out.

The "All Names Return to the Public" seal cracked open.

Xu Erxiao's shadow fell back to his feet.

Wang Cheng'an immediately moved his abacus.

"The first seal is broken!"

The man's composed expression finally vanished.

"You think a few hard words can change the old mountain rules?"

"Then let's take them one by one."

Lu Yuan stepped forward.

"Proposal One: Arrivals must verify name."

He pointed at Wang Cheng'an.

"Wang Cheng'an, descendant of the Wang family, apprentice of the old counting house, holder of his family abacus."

"He reported his true name; the name can be verified."

Then he pointed at Xu Erxiao.

"Xu Erxiao, person of Small Stone Settlement, mother buried west of the settlement, ancestral land pending recovery."

"He reported his origin; the origin can be verified."

"Verification ends here; do not add three generations, lineage, marriage, or wealth."

The first lamp on the platform went out.

A black crack split across the white cloth covering Proposal One's faceless wooden figure.

The man slammed the table.

"If there is no ancestral origin, how can there be a present name?"

"Knowing ancestry does not mean using ancestry to bind people."

"Checking ancestry should only be for finding relatives and tracing roots."

"You use it as a shackle."

The second lamp flared up.

"Proposal Two: No seal, no entry to settlement."

Zhou Heng stepped forward.

"Qing Pine Temple's Dao name is withheld; a copper coin can attest."

"Lin Zhaoxuan has no formal route slip; the ink thread is proof."

"Song Qinghe carries a lamp to protect people; the green lamp is proof."

"Objects can prove companionship but cannot prove that a person should be detained."

Lin Zhaoxuan said, "Those without seals may be witnessed by three traveling companions."

"If the companions also have no seals, then local living people, village communities, Daoist temples, ferry terminals, etc., can jointly attest."

"Testimonies may intersect; they do not have to be recorded at one altar entrance."

The second lamp went out.

The third lamp immediately ignited.

"Proposal Three: Dao schools relocate households back to the sect."

Lin Zhaoxuan sneered.

"When a Dao school relocates a household, the school should be asked for consent."

"But old Dao schools inside the gate were disrupted; disciples scattered. Who can stamp for all disciples now?"

Zhou Heng continued, "If the sect still exists, return to the sect."

"If the sect is destroyed, return to the individual."

"If an individual wants to join another sect, it must be voluntary."

"You cannot use old damage as pretext to force someone to belong."

Song Qinghe stepped forward with her lamp.

"Nor may Dao names, common names, and childhood names be stacked into three items to count as three people."

The third lamp extinguished.

Within the altar, the twelve people began to argue in low voices.

The white cloth masks opened and closed, but the words were unintelligible. Only the gate founder remained silent, his finger pressing on the roll of white paper.

On the paper beside the six names, another small line of characters appeared:

"Those who refuse deliberation will be listed as chaotic names."

Lu Yuan saw this and sliced his blade across the paper.

All six names were simultaneously erased from the white paper.

"We are not here to participate in your deliberation."

"We are here to dismantle your altar."

"If the altar wants to keep people, it must first acknowledge that people may opt out of deliberation."

The man finally rose to his feet.

As he stood, all wooden figures around the platform turned their heads.

Twelve faceless white cloths faced the six of them.

"Then no need for deliberation."

"Use the old mountain rules to restrain you."

"Guarding the mountain is not one seal per person."

"It is the fusion of the twelve rules."

Twelve wooden boxes opened at once.

Inside were no seals.

Only twelve wisps of black vapor.

The vapor rose and twisted together, forming a black gateframe taller than the Inverted Mountain Gate. The frame had no door, but within the frame images of the six people's places of origin reflected.

Wang Cheng'an saw the old Wang family house.

Xu Erxiao saw the graveyard west of Small Stone Settlement.

Lin Zhaoxuan and Zhou Heng saw the gate of Qing Pine Temple inside the gate.

Song Qinghe saw a mountain path scarred by fire.

Lu Yuan saw a dilapidated pharmacy.

Each vision beckoned them.

Words floated across the gateframe:

"Return to their old positions."

Xu Erxiao immediately stepped forward.

"My mother's grave..."

Lu Yuan grabbed him.

"It's false."

"But that's my mother."

"It's an old image, not a living road."

The grave in the vision began to crack, revealing a white skeletal hand.

"If you truly want to return, go in."

"If you go in, you can see her."

Xu Erxiao stared at the image, breathing heavily.

Song Qinghe placed the green flame before his eyes.

In the green light, there were no footprints before the grave.

"Your mother is not the one calling you."

"This gate borrows the ones you wish to see to call you in."

Xu Erxiao closed his eyes, and after a long while retreated slowly.

"My mother has long been buried in the west of the settlement."

"If she were calling me, she wouldn't call through this rotten gate."

The grave image in the black gateframe immediately turned to gray paper.

The other five images also started to distort.

In Wang Cheng'an's old home, his father stood by the abacus saying, "You should accept my debts."

Inside Qing Pine Temple, several unfamiliar Daoists loudly declared, "Traitorous disciples may not return to the mountain."

Zhou Heng saw senior brothers throwing their Daoist names into the snow.

On the charred mountain road Song Qinghe saw someone say, "You cannot protect anyone."

In Lu Yuan's dilapidated pharmacy, a man exactly like him stood, wearing a clean long robe, his expression calm.

"You have already walked far enough."

"Return to the shop, open the door, sell medicines, and stop meddling in things that are not your concern."

Lu Yuan watched that image.

"Who are you?"

"I am the road you did not take."

"Then why are you still inside the gate?"

"Because you always come back."

Lu Yuan lifted his broken knife.

"I will not return."

"People should have a place to settle."

"A place to settle can be found by oneself."

"And if you can't find it?"

"Then keep walking."

The broken knife sliced down.

The pharmacy image split in two.

The black gateframe trembled fiercely. The twelve black vapors began to lose shape.

The gate founder's face turned ugly.

"You have no place of return, so you want everyone to drift with you?"

Lu Yuan said, "A place of return is not something you give."

"It is something people acknowledge themselves."

"What you fear most is not that people have no place."

"It is that people can decide their own place."

He pointed the broken knife at the platform's center.

"So you first establish a gate, then set a master name, and finally form public deliberation."

"The gate blocks people, the master name folds people together, public deliberation persuades people."

"If these three exist together, anyone can be taken back."

"But we refuse to be taken."

Lin Zhaoxuan took out white rice and scattered a circle along the platform's edge.

Zhou Heng drove copper coins, one by one, into the line of rice.

Song Qinghe stood with her lamp inside the circle.

Wang Cheng'an placed the dismantled abacus beads at six cardinal positions.

Xu Erxiao drew his sword and slashed the snow, revealing the old road beneath.

Lu Yuan placed the two halves of the "Come"/"Go" seals in the center of the road.

The six did not share a combined shadow, nor did they stand shoulder to shoulder.

Each stood beside their own items.

Each had a place of origin, each had a place to go.

The twelve black vapors in the gateframe could not find a common foothold.

They tried to entangle the six, but were separated by six distinct boundaries.

The gate founder muttered, "Travelers do not share shadows...."

Lu Yuan replied, "Name migration stops here."

"Each guard their own name."

"Each walk their own road."

Song Qinghe raised her lamp.

"Public deliberation cannot decide for people."

Zhou Heng raised a copper coin.

"The past may not answer on behalf of the living."

Lin Zhaoxuan tossed down the last handful of white rice.

"The gate's seal cannot recognize kin for people."

Wang Cheng'an moved his abacus.

"Old ledgers cannot act in place of a newborn name."

Xu Erxiao leveled his sword.

"The dead cannot choose roads for the living."

The six declarations landed and the twelve lamps all went out at once.

The black gateframe snapped with a dull crack like wood breaking, then split open down the middle.

From the crack fell sheets of white paper.

The papers had no names—only empty boxes.

Lu Yuan picked up a sheet and turned it over.

On the back was written:

"Please fill in by yourself."

He looked for a moment and handed the paper to Xu Erxiao.

Xu Erxiao dragged the tip of his blade across the page and, with crooked strokes, wrote:

"Xu Erxiao."

Below he wrote:

"Small Stone Settlement, west-of-settlement grave, wasteland, Brother Lu and company."

When he finished, he pressed the paper into the snow.

Wang Cheng'an took a sheet and wrote:

"Wang Cheng'an."

"Wang Family Settlement."

"Record for the living, do not set a master name for the dead."

Lin Zhaoxuan wrote:

"Lin Zhaoxuan, from inside the gate, temporarily residing outside the gate."

Zhou Heng wrote:

"Zhou Heng, Qing Pine Temple disciple, traveling with fellow disciples."

Song Qinghe wrote:

"Song Qinghe, guardian of the lamp."

Finally, Lu Yuan took a blank sheet.

He did not write a lineage, nor a place of origin, nor a family.

He wrote only four characters:

"Lu Yuan, free traveler."

Six sheets fell to the ground.

Six boundary lines on the snow lit up at once, extending along the old road in all directions. The names buried deep under the mountain seemed to suddenly have directions to walk toward.

The thirty-seven thousand-plus wooden plaques on the cliff began to tremble.

One by one they fell from their stone holes.

When a plaque landed, the front revealed a name and the back revealed a place of origin.

Some backs listed villages and settlements; some listed graveyards, Daoist temples, relatives; some only read:

"No place, awaiting search."

"Still on the road."

"Descendants unknown."

"Do not forcibly return."

Within the Guardian Mountain Discussion Altar, the twelve wooden figures collapsed at the same time.

The seals from their chests rolled to the platform's center, forming a ring.

The gate founder looked at those wooden plaques and, for the first time, genuine panic flickered across his face.

"You cannot do this."

"Some people have nowhere to go."

"Some have no one to claim them after death."

"Some names are already severed."

"If severed, check."

"Can't find—mark it as unfindable."

"No one claims—establish a nameless plaque."

Lu Yuan said, "You can't make the records tidy by randomly assigning them a master name."

"You can't make the gate look peaceful by compressing lost people into a single person."

The gate founder slowly stepped back.

"You think writing a few words can change the mountain's rules?"

"Rules aren't stone."

"They are made by people doing them again and again until they become rules."

"Today, if they no longer follow them, they are only old paper."

The gate founder ripped open the white paper in his hands.

Torn pieces flew up and transformed into a flock of black crows that dived toward the wooden plaques on the cliff.

Once the crows pecked a plaque, the name on it would rapidly blur.

Lin Zhaoxuan shouted, "Protect the plaques!"

The six scattered and rushed toward the cliff.

Wang Cheng'an grabbed a plaque; abacus beads in his palm assembled themselves into fine lights, shielding the plaque from the crows.

Xu Erxiao ran along the platform, slicing the attacking crows into paper scraps with his sword.

Zhou Heng knocked down high-flying crows with copper coins; each time a coin struck, it rang clearly.

Song Qinghe shone her lamp on the cliff; the green flame re-illuminated the characters the crows had pecked.

Lin Zhaoxuan's ink thread flicked out and pulled scattered plaques back into their niches.

Lu Yuan pursued the gate founder.

The man turned and dove into the narrow stone opening behind the black gateframe.

The mouth was so narrow that only one could pass. After Lu Yuan entered, a steep stone stairway appeared before him, descending downward.

Handprints were carved densely along both sides of the steps.

There were adult prints and children's prints.

Beneath each handprint was one character:

"Enter."

Lu Yuan descended the steps.

The further down he walked, the louder the sound of water became.

At the ninety-ninth step, at the end of the stairs, an underground stone chamber appeared.

In the center of the chamber was a black water well.

A wooden board covered the well mouth. On the board lay four items:

An unused white seal.

An empty register book.

A lamp with no wick.

And a bone finger wrapped with red cord.

The gate founder stood by the well with his back to Lu Yuan.

"North Mountain Pass is only the outer gate."

"The true gate is at the bottom of the well."

"What is at the bottom of the well?"

"All the people with nowhere to return."

"You intend to make them into another gate?"

"They already are a gate."

The man's face, which Lu Yuan hadn't noticed before, bore fine cracks now, and waterlight gleamed in those cracks.

"You think I'm making things difficult for the living?"

"No."

"I'm finding a place for those the world has forgotten."

Lu Yuan said, "You can build shrines, erect steles, keep books, set up rituals."

"But you cannot compress their names into one person."

"Nor can you let the living go down to guard the gate for them."

The man shook his head.

"You don't understand."

"What the nameless dead fear most is not being merged."

"It is that no one will ask about them anymore."

"So I want a gate."

"Anyone who passes must hear their names at the gate."

Lu Yuan looked at the well mouth.

"But you make the gate eat people."

"Only those swallowed can hear."

"You turned memory into punishment."

The man fell silent.

Many low voices suddenly rose up from the bottom of the well.

"My name is..."

"I came from..."

"I died at..."

Layer upon layer, the voices begged across the water surface.

The man reached up, about to take the bone finger.

Lu Yuan's broken knife barred his hand.

"Who are you?"

The man said, "I have no name."

"After the Guardian Mountain Discussion Altar established the gate, all gate founders were forbidden to keep their real names."

"The first was like this, the second like this, and I am the same."

"Without a real name, one may speak only for the public name."

"Whom do you speak for?"

"For everyone."

"Did everyone agree?"

The man did not answer.

Lu Yuan stepped to the wooden board and picked up the empty register.

"Why is this book blank?"

"Waiting for you six to combine names."

"Only when names are combined can the book fit the well's shadows."

"Six people merged into one again."

"This is the only way to open the well bottom."

"Who told you this?"

The man pointed at the bone finger.

"It did."

Lu Yuan reached and took the bone finger.

The red cord around the finger snapped taut. The voices from the well bottom stopped at once.

A small copper plate was tied to the red cord's end.

Two characters were engraved on the back of the plate:

"Gu Changgeng."

Lu Yuan's expression shifted.

"Gu Changgeng's finger?"

The man said, "He was the last person who truly understood name migration."

"He was also the first to oppose the master name."

"He discovered that the master altar swallowed all names into one person and tried to dismantle it."

"But he couldn't finish it."

"Before he died, he left a hand bone in the well, hoping that those who came later would continue the work."

Lu Yuan gripped the bone finger.

"Why didn't Gu Changgeng take it with him?"

"Because he knew there were people at the well bottom."

"He wouldn't leave the mountain only thinking of himself."

"So you used his remains to continue establishing the gate?"

The man said softly, "Not to use."

"To complete his wish."

"His wish was that all people not be swallowed."

"But you still want six people to combine names."

"Because without a master name, the well's shadows cannot be released."

The man pointed to the blank register.

"This is not a master name."

"It is a lure name."

"Six people combined serve as a temporary lure to enter the well and lead the nameless out."

Lu Yuan did not immediately refute.

Earlier, in front of the Inverted Mountain Gate, they had dismantled the evil rules.

But the voices at the well bottom did not sound like temptation; they sounded like those long trapped, whose own origins were incomplete.

If they simply destroyed the well, would the shadows at the bottom disperse?

Song Qinghe arrived at the stone chamber door in time to hear the man's words.

She looked at the black well and her face slowly turned pale.

"Some of what he said is true."

"The well bottom isn't all malicious shadows."

"There are many incomplete names."

"They lack full origins, only a word or two remembered by someone."

Zhou Heng came up beside her.

"But you still can't combine names."

"Combining names will again make them lose their individual voices."

Lin Zhaoxuan said, "But if you don't lure them, they cannot come out."