Chapter 359: Paper Man

The rain had stopped at some point. The full moon in the night sky cast its silver glow across the lake.

The return journey was smooth; there wasn't even a single pothole that could cause a twisted ankle. He Lingchuan brought Master Gan San back to the county town. The night was deep and silent; not only were there no people on the road, but even the dogs weren't barking.

He Lingchuan lifted Master Gan San off the horse and removed the tattered cloth from his mouth. "I keep my word; I will let you go. But if you come looking for trouble again later..." He had previously promised that Master Gan San would be spared death if he led him to the shamaness.

Master Gan San's mouth was dry and parched from having the cloth gagged for the entire journey, and he could barely speak: "N-n-never, I w-won't dare again!" Only then did He Lingchuan release him. "Get out!"

Master Gan San stumbled, then, fearing He Lingchuan might change his mind, he limped home despite his injuries. He Lingchuan pointed, and another small spider jumped onto Master Gan San's back, allowing itself to be carried away.

Not killing him didn't mean he wouldn't take precautions. He Lingchuan still wanted to monitor the situation, to see if this young man would harbor ill intentions again. He hadn't yet figured out why the shamaness had granted Master Gan San three wishes instead of killing him outright. She could even defeat the private soldiers of Beijia Kingdom; dealing with a county dandy should have been effortless. Why would she need to do three things for him first? What was so special about Master Gan San compared to others?

Recalling the battle inside and outside the bamboo house, He Lingchuan still felt a bit uneasy. It seemed too easy for the shamaness to have died like that. Yet, he couldn't pinpoint what felt wrong. Was a rural demoness really that easy to deal with? He didn't necessarily have to encounter high-difficulty opponents every time. It was more common to easily defeat weaker opponents in this world. Anyway, he decided to go back and rest; any further matters could wait until tomorrow.

He Lingchuan headed straight for the Purple Bamboo Courtyard where he was staying. The gatekeeper was nowhere to be found, and the front hall was empty, with only the lamps still burning. He returned to the bathing room, familiar with the layout, took a bath, and then lay down fully clothed.

With his hands clasped behind his head, He Lingchuan appeared to be staring blankly at the ceiling, but he was secretly using the perspective of his eyeball spider to monitor Master Gan San. However, Master Gan San, this weakling, walked slower and slower. Just as he was nearing the Gan residence, he suddenly collapsed by the roadside, unable to move any further. Then, he broke down, covering his face and sobbing uncontrollably.

The events of the past two days were nothing short of a nightmare for Master Gan San, who had always enjoyed a smooth life. A nightmare he couldn't wake from. The pillar of his family was gone, he hadn't obtained the pass that could save the Gan family's business from ruin, and tonight he himself had endured a harrowing experience, with no idea how many ribs he had broken. His life, from this point forward, completely collapsed.

Seeing this, He Lingchuan was speechless, muttering "What a waste" to himself. Let Master Gan San sit in that dusty street corner and slowly savor the bitter fruit of his actions. He Lingchuan withdrew his gaze and sat cross-legged to circulate his internal energy.

It wasn't suitable for sleeping tonight, nor did he fully enter meditation; he just allowed his True Qi to slowly complete a few minor circulations. Not long after, he heard faint footsteps from outside.

He Lingchuan opened his eyes. Someone gently knocked on the door, asking softly, "Young Master He, are you asleep?"

"Who is it?"

"It's Baitana."

He Lingchuan recognized the voice; it was indeed Baitana, the maid who served the bathing room. "Is something wrong?"

"I thought I saw Young Master return just now," Baitana said cheerfully. "I've brought you a late-night snack, it's mushroom and fish slice porridge."

"Come in."

Baitana pushed the door open and entered, smiling. In her hands was indeed a tray, on which sat a steaming large bowl, the aroma of porridge wafting through the air.

He Lingchuan seemed to pause, looking at Baitana, then at the red lacquered tray she held. The shiitake mushrooms were plump, the fish slices tender and white, and the rice porridge was perfectly cooked, clearly the result of skillful simmering over low heat.

"Only porridge?"

Baitana asked curiously, "Do you need anything else?"

"How can you eat savory porridge without fried breadsticks?" He Lingchuan frowned. "Go, get me two!" Fried breadsticks, or *youtiao*, were something he always bought to dip in his savory porridge, regardless of how simple or elaborate the meal was.

"Ah, yes." Baitana was momentarily stunned but quickly put down the tray and left.

Her absence lasted for about fifteen minutes. When Baitana returned, she held an oiled paper package containing two golden-brown fried breadsticks; their aroma could be smelled from afar.

"Young Master, please enjoy."

He Lingchuan was about to pick up the porridge bowl when Baitana turned up the oil lamp. With the lamp she had brought in, the room became even brighter. Holding the porridge in his left hand, he sniffed it, then suddenly asked Baitana, "Where did this porridge come from?"

"The kitchen."

"Did you cook it?"

Baitana seemed a bit shy. "Indeed. Please taste my cooking."

"Of course." He Lingchuan smiled faintly, lowered his head as if to drink the porridge, when the long saber at his waist suddenly sprang from its sheath. The saber flashed like flowing water, but was instantly withdrawn. Baitana's expression froze, and it was a moment before her head fell from her neck. Her eyes were wide with disbelief, and her lips moved as if asking: "Why?"

He Lingchuan looked at her coldly. "You dare display your ghostly tricks before me?" In truth, when Baitana entered, she appeared as a plump beauty under the lamplight, but in He Lingchuan's eyes, she was a malevolent spirit shrouded in black smoke, controlling a white paper cutout! Every movement of "Baitana" was merely the performance of a marionette. Sure enough, the maid he had cleaved in two didn't bleed at all; she instantly turned into paper ashes. The malevolent spirit behind her vanished immediately. It seemed the shamaness wasn't dead yet. He Lingchuan let out a soft breath. It was indeed not that simple.

Of course, anything delivered by a malevolent spirit could not be consumed. He Lingchuan was about to stand up when he suddenly noticed something odd in his peripheral vision. The red lacquered tray was very smooth and shiny, so much so that it reflected like a mirror. It was the reflection in the tray that had moved just now. With two oil lamps providing ample light, He Lingchuan focused his gaze and saw only his own reflection in the tray. When he moved his eyeballs, the reflection's eyeballs moved too. The background was blurry, as it wasn't as bright as daytime. Had he seen wrong? Was it just a flicker of light?

Just as he was about to avert his gaze, the reflection suddenly bared its teeth and grinned at him. He Lingchuan was seventeen years old, handsome and spirited, often turning the heads of young women and wives when he walked down the street. Thus, his reflection was also handsome, dashing, and full of youthful vigor. But that smile was terrifying; it revealed a mouth full of sharp, fanged teeth, like a tiger's or a wolf's! Its gaze also turned sinister and menacing, as if a wicked plot had succeeded.

"Damn it!" He Lingchuan's scalp tingled, and he instinctively tried to overturn the tray, but the reflection in the mirror suddenly leaped out and embraced his head and face! His vision went dark, and his mind immediately reeled. He couldn't muster any strength. The trap was actually set here, in the tray holding the bowl, and "Baitana" was just a decoy. After all his precautions, how had he still fallen into their trap?

Just then, the precious saber at his waist vibrated, suddenly letting out a long, ringing *clang*, echoing with a sound of slaughter. He Lingchuan jolted, his mind returning to him, and he drew his saber, cutting the red lacquered tray in two. Holding the saber, he looked at the tray again. It turned out there was a square bronze mirror embedded in the bottom of the tray, positioned so that anyone taking the porridge would see it as soon as they lowered their head. Now the mirror surface had several cracks, and the reflection inside thrashed left and right, unable to escape, baring its teeth at him in frustration. Just now, he had nearly had his soul seized by this thing!

He Lingchuan suddenly understood how Wu Jinsong and the others had lost their souls. As long as one used their eyes to see, this was impossible to guard against. He strode out of the bathing room, looking left and right, finding the place still eerily quiet. Upon his initial return, he hadn't noticed anything unusual, but now, listening closely, the Purple Bamboo Courtyard, which housed many plants like plum, orchid, and bamboo, and had two shallow ponds in front, was utterly silent. It was early summer; how could there be no chirping insects or croaking frogs? Where were the people? Where had they all gone?

He kicked open the wooden door of the bathing room across the way. With a loud *bang*, the door fell. If there had been a guest inside, they would ninety percent likely be cursing, and perhaps a young maid would have screamed and run out. However, there was nothing; the quiet room was empty.

He checked eight bathing rooms consecutively; all were empty. The last one, however, contained two figures. To call them people wasn't accurate; they were two paper cutouts controlled by malevolent spirits, tangled together as if performing intimate acts. One paper cutout depicted a brawny man, the other a slender beauty. Judging by their postures, they seemed completely unaware that they were merely paper figures.

However, when He Lingchuan burst in, they both turned their heads together and suddenly rose to pounce on him. The brawny man even knocked over a screen mid-movement; his speed and force were no different from a real person's. He Lingchuan certainly wouldn't be polite; he sliced at its neck with a single strike. To his surprise, as the figure rushed past the screen, it casually picked up a candlestick and thrust it violently towards He Lingchuan's face. Its attack was methodical and powerful, like a fierce tiger. As He Lingchuan cut through the candlestick, the figure simultaneously grabbed a large bronze staff from beside the bed and swung it towards him. The blow was heavy and powerful. For more than ten exchanges, they attacked and defended against each other.

From the first move, He Lingchuan realized that this paper figure was using military staff techniques, and its aura was somewhat similar to Meng Shan's. But even the real Meng Shan had been defeated by him, so how long could this fake paper figure last? Finally, He Lingchuan impaled it to a pillar with his saber. Both the paper figure and the malevolent spirit controlling it seemed to be in unbearable pain.

He Lingchuan said in a deep voice, "Who are you?" The malevolent spirits inhabiting the long-tusked pigs could follow Master Gan San's commands, so he assumed these entities could understand human speech and thus attempted to communicate. After a few interrogations, the paper figure grinned sinisterly: "Your grandpa is Qi Ming, a centurion under General You of the Xiaolin Army! I fear neither death nor torture!" "Xiaolin Army"—that name seemed familiar.

Just then, there was some movement outside, a *thump-thump-thump* sound. The paper figure heard it too and shouted, "Come this way, the enemy is here!" He Lingchuan swung his saber, destroying the paper figure. With a light push from his toes, he leaped onto the wall above the bathing pool, then with two more bounds, he ascended into the crown of a giant acacia tree. The tree was sixty feet tall. From here, he could not only survey the entire Purple Bamboo Courtyard but also half of the county town.

The night wind howled as he stood on the swaying branches, unable to see any light below. More paper figures had already flooded into the bathing room where the paper brawny man had been. Under the control of malevolent spirits, they looked around, searching for He Lingchuan. He carefully observed the depictions on these figures; they all seemed to be in military uniforms, though the style was unfamiliar, and he didn't know which country they belonged to. Aided by the moonlight, he also saw paper figures beginning to walk through the streets and alleys of Wuze County. Some strolled leisurely, others sat by the roadside as if drunk, and still others, in organized groups, rushed towards the Purple Bamboo Courtyard, appearing like local constables.