1

When I was seven years old, my father personally severed my left hand.

He said that those in our profession need the means to save their own lives. I was too young that year to understand the meaning behind his words.

The profession my father spoke of was that of a "renjiang."

In this world, there are painters, carpenters, and tile craftsmen, but there are also renjiang. The skill of a renjiang is a rare and extraordinary craft. Only those who possess exceptional mastery and seasoned expertise would dare to claim the title of renjiang.

I have witnessed the marvel of this craft with my own eyes.

My father's hands seemed to possess a kind of magic. Once, he effortlessly removed the arm of an elderly farmer with a single hand, leaving a smooth, bloodless incision as if it were carved from jade. I use the term "removed" because the action was truly graceful and fluid, like manipulating a puppet. With two fingers, he traced a line across the arm, and the wound caused by a farming tool spread like ink before vanishing without a trace. With a gentle touch in reverse, the arm reattached seamlessly, as if it were naturally meant to be.

He once helped a bulky man shed excess weight. With a single strike of my father's hand, that sagging mass of fat slipped away like soft mud.

With a gentle glide of his fingernail, he could give you a new double eyelid. A light tap could correct the twisting pain in your intestines.

I once asked my father what it truly meant to be a renjiang.

He only spoke two words.

"To mend people."

2

When I was twelve years old, my father brought out a thick book and asked me in a deep voice, "Will you become a renjiang?"

At that moment, my answer was, "Yes."

"Good. This is what our ancestor left behind. Read it carefully."

From then on, I would immerse myself in reading this ancient book every day. It contained records of mystical techniques, and I often found myself captivated, forgetting about food and drink.

After reading the ancient book for several months, I felt like I had memorized it by heart. My father called me over again and began to ask me questions one by one.

"How many chapters are there in the book?"

"Eleven chapters."

"What does the sixth chapter discuss?"

"'Leaving the Bone.'"

"Show me."

I lowered my head and lightly traced my index finger over a joint of my middle finger. A section of finger bone appeared in my hand.

It may sound eerie, even terrifying. However, there was no pain whatsoever, no discomfort. The finger bone had been completely detached, clean like a piece of jade. With a gentle movement of my middle finger, the bone returned to its place in my body.

Father nodded. He squatted down, looking directly into my eyes, and said, "A renjiang can mend people, but they can also kill. Throughout history, there have been unscrupulous renjiang who take organs and lives. When you leave home in the future, take my umbrella with you, so that you can recognize other craftsmen."

After saying that, he asked me to close my eyes while he used the thumbs of both hands to trace over my eyes.

When I opened my eyes, I found that my vision had become sharper, capable of clearly discerning the fine hairs on my hand.

But I couldn't see my father.

3

My mother was a gentle person, completely opposite to my father's strictness. Since I was twelve years old, I relied on her for everything.

She never mentioned anything about being a renjiang. She was a devoted wife, a devoted mother.

But I was restless.

At the age of twelve, I learned to be independent, to take care of household chores, but I couldn't learn how to find peace. I couldn't sit still at home. At that age, with a mind full of curiosity, I would always ask my mother various questions. However, she rarely gave me answers, only repeating the four-character family rule: "Kind heart, kind person."

I felt restless and anxious. So, I began to hone my mystical techniques. One day, I had a sudden idea and came up with some techniques that required the use of both hands. But then, I felt a coldness in my heart, realizing that I only had my right hand.

All I had was regret, not resentment.

After that, four ordinary years passed. On the morning of my sixteenth birthday, I found my mother standing at the doorstep, holding a black tube, tears streaming down her face.

Her eyes were swollen from crying, and she choked as she asked me, "Do you want to know why I followed your father?"

I shook my head. Although my mother didn't come from a wealthy background, she was a true beauty, with eyes and eyebrows like a painting. That natural and delicate charm was not easily obtained. My father, on the other hand, had an average appearance. The only remarkable thing about him was his exceptional craftsmanship.

She said, "Back then, he carried this tube on his back with only two copper coins in his possession, but he still bought a steamed bun to feed me, who was starving. He gave up everything to rescue me from that situation. Your father spent his whole life mending others, but he couldn't mend himself. I know you have superior skills, but what you need to learn the most is your father's kindness."

I nodded, not knowing how to respond. I had no knowledge of what my parents had experienced or what they meant by "that place."

She held me tightly, on the verge of tears, and said, "You are a child of the Cheng family, destined to travel far and wide. Now that you are sixteen, I am entrusting this tube to you. Inside, there is an umbrella, a letter, and a jade pendant. I don't understand the purpose of these objects, but I only know the ancient saying: 'When encountering danger, open the umbrella. When reaching a certain realm, open the letter. When seeing an old acquaintance, hold the jade pendant.' That's all I can give you."

I didn't know why my mother was crying, but I felt like crying along with her. The impulse and fervor to leave home froze within me in an instant. I felt nothing, unwilling to think about anything. I simply wanted to stand there with her.

I walked out of the door in a daze, and my mother bowed deeply. It was the first time I saw her so heartbroken. She turned her head and said, "My child, I miss you dearly, but please don't come back."

4

My parents named me Shan, which means "goodness." My name is Cheng Shan, perhaps with the hope that everything would turn out well.

However, on the second day of my journey, I encountered bandits along the mountain road. It was a path that led to the imperial city, but recently it had become infested with bandits. I remembered my mother's words, "When encountering danger, open the umbrella." So, I pulled out the umbrella from the black tube. The large umbrella was adorned with intricate and dazzling patterns, bewildering my eyes.

I jumped off the carriage, and the group of bandits were stunned when they saw my large umbrella. Several daring and robust young men attempted to approach me, but every time they got close to my black umbrella, their limbs stiffened, rendering them immobile. Those who came even closer convulsed in pain, unable to move.

"Stay still!" the leader of the bandits shouted.

"It's Cheng Family's black umbrella. Are you all courting death? Come any closer, and you'll turn into a lump of mud to feed the pigs and dogs!"

Seeing the visible distress on the faces of those bandits, I couldn't bear it in my heart and closed the umbrella. Even so, a few of them, weakened by the previous effects, still staggered on unsteadily. I had no choice but to put the black umbrella back into the tube, and only then did those people return to normal.

The leader came down, smiling broadly at me, making me feel uneasy.

"Young Master Cheng, they say there's a great turmoil in the imperial city. Why are you heading there?"

"I've heard that the Emperor is seeking talented individuals from all over the world, offering generous rewards. I'm going there to make a living," I replied.

"Little young master, the Cheng family doesn't need to make a living," the leader said, noticing my displeasure, and wisely walked up the mountain.

Just that man, before leaving, carefully inspected my left sleeve.

Perhaps he had already noticed that I lacked a left hand, but I didn't pay too much attention to it. However, I gradually realized that having only one hand could be quite inconvenient for many techniques. If those bandits wanted to exploit this weakness, it could become troublesome.

After the bandits had left, the carriage driver suddenly tumbled down from his horse and burst into laughter.

It was a petite and beautiful girl.

In fact, ever since my father lightly brushed my eyes with his thumbs, my vision had become exceptionally sharp, beyond ordinary perception. I had already seen through her veil and recognized her appearance, but I chose not to reveal it.

"Kid, didn't expect that I'm a girl, huh?" she exclaimed, her face hidden behind a smile.

I smiled and nodded, saying, "No, I didn't."

"If you hadn't acted, I could have taken down all those dozens of people by myself," she boasted.

Once again, I nodded with a smile, playing along and said, "With a female knight protecting me, I can rest assured."

I was just going along with her to see when she would get to the point and satisfy her curiosity.

"Kid, your umbrella is quite interesting. Can I take a look?"

5

Her name is Ming Cai, and she claims to be the best martial artist among painters and the best painter among martial artists.

She disguised herself just to be able to easily ascend the mountain and defeat the bandits. It's hard for me to imagine this girl, filled with dreams of the martial world, willingly becoming a court painter. But that's the reality, just like how I, who once detested etiquette and rules, wanted to enter the royal court.

The reputation of the Cheng family is not insignificant, but most of it is just folklore and far from the truth. So when Ming Cai heard that I was from the Cheng family, she thought I possessed some exaggerated power. However, she was surprised when I mentioned the techniques of craftsmanship.

When I effortlessly rotated her left arm like a wheel axle a couple of times, she was so scared she nearly fainted.

I said, "What's the big deal? If I wanted to, I could even attach my arm to your body. It's just that, one, I only have one hand, which is inconvenient, and two, my father strictly forbade me from doing so."

She was quite interested in my left hand because folklore says that the Cheng family is bestowed with two gifted hands, but in my case, I only have one.

That's a question I can't answer.

At the age of sixteen, I am still inexperienced and have limited life experience. Having someone like Ming Cai as a companion, someone of the same age, is one of the few things that can alleviate the anxiety in my heart.

However, Ming Cai's frequent questions often leave me at a loss.

"Cheng Shan, can you make me beautiful?" Ming Cai asked eagerly.

I responded, "Well, I can do it. But you're already beautiful. Moreover, the techniques that alter one's appearance are the most demanding and require a craftsman's experience. As a young lad like me, I wouldn't dare to undertake such delicate work, especially considering..."

And besides, I only have one hand.

"Alright, I won't trouble you, little kid," Ming Cai waved her hand, wearing a deliberately magnanimous expression.

"I was just thinking, if someone from the Cheng family could sculpt another person to resemble an emperor in physique and appearance, could they perform a switcheroo? Wouldn't that be something?"

6

We traveled on the road for several days and stayed at an inn in the imperial city for two days.

She showed no fear of me at all. Not only was she unafraid, but she was also calm and even audacious. She would constantly provoke me to open the umbrella, but I refused.

I said, "Paint a portrait for me. If it turns out well, I'll open the umbrella for you."

She laughed for a whole moment, unable to stop herself.

While Ming Cai was painting, she asked me, "Your Cheng family can transform people into any gender, age, size, or appearance. So, the portrait might not necessarily resemble you, right?"

I replied, "I like my face and body as they are. I won't change them. Besides, it's not a portrait of me."

"But isn't the portrait supposed to be of you?" Ming Cai seemed confused.

"Of course not. Why would I need a portrait of myself? I want your painting. I want to see you."

Ming Cai blushed deeply.

She fell silent and quietly painted a portrait of herself.

At that time, I didn't yet understand that people can be transformed into paintings, but paintings cannot be transformed into people.

"It's so lifelike, incredibly so." I gazed at the painting in astonishment and couldn't help but marvel at it.

"I paint myself, so it's hard not to resemble me," she said.

I knew that Ming Cai's modesty was unfounded. For an artist, painting someone else's likeness is easier when they are right in front of you, cooperating and maintaining their natural expressions and movements. But Ming Cai was merely facing a pristine white sheet of paper, conjuring her own image from her mind. When she held up that portrait, it was like holding a mirror.

Perhaps my experience was limited, but in my eyes, her artistic skill was unparalleled.

The enchantment and intoxication she displayed while painting were unlike anything I had seen before. I couldn't help but shower her with praise, and she finally became shy, quickly averting her gaze.

I asked, "Ming Cai, do you have any other paintings? Show them to me."

She nodded and pulled out a dozen scrolls from the wooden box she carried on her back. Among them were depictions of flowers, birds, plants, people of all ages and genders, each one vivid and exquisitely detailed. However, the landscapes, buildings, rocks, clouds, and clear skies appeared pale, lacking depth and flavor, far from the skill displayed in the previous works.

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As I carefully examined them, I couldn't help but ask, "Ming Cai, why is it that your portrayals of living creatures are so marvelous, while your other subjects seem pale in comparison?"

Ming Cai didn't answer me; she just smiled mischievously.

7

As we were about to leave the inn, the innkeeper specifically warned the two of us, saying, "The imperial city is very unstable now. I've heard that a great villain has appeared, causing panic among the people!"

I asked, "Who is this villain?"

"The Cheng Family!" he replied.

Upon hearing this, Ming Cai couldn't help but glance at me.

"The Cheng Family?" I asked in return.

"Yes, the Cheng Family," the innkeeper continued, his voice trembling and weak. He gestured for me to come closer and whispered, "There's a notorious member of the Cheng Family in the city, targeting young men with strong bodies and beautiful young girls to use as 'human models.'"

Curiosity got the better of Ming Cai, and she asked, "What are 'human models'?"

"Young lady, you don't know? The Cheng Family can pummel a person with a single blow, separating the skin, flesh, and bones. They take the healthy heart, liver, spleen, and lungs to sell to the high-ranking officials. As for the beautiful girls, they keep their skins to exchange with the concubines in the palace. Since you are so attractive, you must be extra cautious!"

After we left the inn, I spoke in a low voice, "If I were to find this villain, I would use an ancient Cheng Family punishment to deal with him. I would take his head, ensuring he doesn't die. Then I would remove his tongue, making him beg for life but unable to find death."

I saw the pale expression on Ming Cai's face, and I smiled, saying, "I've only heard about it from my father. This ancient punishment was used to discipline family members who violated the family rules, but it's been many years since it was last implemented. The Cheng Family has gradually distanced themselves from worldly affairs, and the severe punishment has been abolished."

We walked in silence for a long time. She seemed hesitant to speak, which made me feel uneasy. When we reached a secluded intersection where we would soon part ways, she forced a smile and said, "Do you remember what I said? I'm worried that your extraordinary skills would make you a thorn in the flesh of the palace. Even if they don't get rid of you, they will exploit you."

"Are you afraid that I will do evil?"

"You are a blank canvas, and I'm afraid it will be tainted, with demons and monsters painted upon it."

"Where did the female swordsman go? Why do you now seem like a weak woman?" I had to divert the conversation away from her words.

She turned her head away, then turned back with the expression of the old Ming Cai.

"Kid, once you cross this intersection, there won't be this female swordsman protecting you anymore. Take care of yourself, haha." Just as I was about to turn and leave, she pressed her hand on my shoulder. "Don't forget, that day I painted your portrait, and you promised to open the umbrella for me. Do you want to go back on your word?"

I shook my head and said, "Of course not, how could I dare to go back on my promise to Ming Xiaojie? It's just that this umbrella is quite large, it's inconvenient to open it indoors. Once you stand a little further away, I will open it."

When Ming Cai was about forty feet away from me, I shouted, "Don't show off. Should I keep my distance?"

"I fear neither heaven nor earth. How could a mere broken umbrella pose a threat to me?"

I opened the black umbrella with confidence, and its ancient patterns covered my line of sight.

no answer.

When I closed my umbrella, Mingcai had already run far ahead. I knew she was a martial artist, gracefully gliding along this narrow path like a dragonfly skimming the water's surface. Yet, I could still see her at the end of the road, running and crying.

I couldn't help but wonder, why was she crying?

8

At the age of sixteen, I lacked responsibility and maturity, and my thoughts were shallow. Therefore, I didn't pay much attention to why my mother cried with such sadness or why Mingcai chose to leave without saying goodbye. Even if I briefly cared, time quickly diluted those thoughts.

After parting ways with Mingcai, I spent a day walking towards the inner city of the imperial capital. Along the way, I suddenly realized, for a moment, that I almost blurted out, "Could this girl have feelings for me?"

I shook my head, deciding to dismiss those thoughts. At that time, my mind was solely focused on entering the palace. I only wanted to find that villain from the Cheng family, for if there was evil in the imperial city, there must be great evil within the palace. It was similar to how where there is evil in the world, those in high positions were likely harboring great evil.

The inner city was just ahead, and the small gate there was my entrance into the palace. From a distance, I could only see a few guards wearing armor.

The leader of the guards placed his sword on the table, scrutinizing me from head to toe and glancing at the position of my left hand. Shaking his head, he said, "You, you look like a cripple. What do you even know?"

I bowed deeply and said, "Sir, I am lacking in martial skills, having only dabbled in some unorthodox methods."

Upon hearing this, they burst into laughter.

Left with no choice, I lightly tapped my right hand on the leader's forehead and said, "Loss of vision."

His eye sockets sank deeply, and his hollow eyes resembled a dried-up well.

The others panicked, with some drawing their swords and roaring, some collapsing to the ground, and others turning pale.

As soon as I removed my hand, he returned to normal, albeit gasping heavily, drenched in sweat, speaking incoherently as if he had lost his soul.

Once again, I bowed and said, "Gentlemen, excuse me for a moment."

The trembling leader handed me a black iron waist token and said, "After you enter... find... find Chief Steward Wang. He will take good care of you." He looked at me anxiously, but his gaze unintentionally locked onto the long tube behind me.

After expressing my gratitude, I walked into the city. It was the exact moment when the autumn wind passed through, causing my figure to be unsteady, as if dissolving into the wind. The group of guards merely watched from afar, none daring to take a step forward.

Evil is deterred by evil.

9

When I saw Chief Steward Wang, I overheard him reprimanding one of his serving maids.

"If you continue to work so clumsily, I'll have you sent to the 'Waste Dwellings' as punishment!"

The maid's face turned pale with shock upon hearing this, and she quickly knelt down, ready to slap herself. Chief Steward Wang noticed my arrival and gently helped the maid up, whispering instructions to her.

The maid wiped away her tears and walked to me, bowing politely. "Sir, please follow me to the 'Abnormal Dwellings'; it's not far from here."

I smiled and nodded, walking with the maid for a short distance. When we found ourselves alone, I lowered my voice and asked, "Sister, I'm curious about this 'Waste Dwellings.' What kind of place is it?"

The maid's face filled with fear, and she took a step back, saying, "Sir, the 'Waste Dwellings' is not just filled with disabled people. It's also inhabited by monsters and demons."

"I'm merely inquiring, without any ill intentions."

The maid looked around briefly and whispered to me, "I've heard there's an old man with a single eye, a demoness with four legs, and a mute strange child inside. A few days ago, some of my sisters went in to clean, and they were terrified and unconscious for two or three days."

I remained calm on the surface, but my heart was stirred by waves of turmoil. These so-called monsters and demons sounded like the work of the Cheng family.

A skilled artisan can mend people, but they can also harm them. My speculation was not unfounded. The great evil that instilled fear in the people of the imperial city was likely hidden within this palace.

"Do you happen to know how to reach this 'Waste Dwellings'?" I asked the maid.

The maid looked troubled. "I dare not say,"

I spoke in a gentle tone, "Well, I won't trouble you any further, sister. There can't be such grotesque individuals in the world. It's probably just rumors spreading about their peculiar and ugly appearances. You need not worry about it."

She nodded, "I hope that's the case too."

She escorted me to the entrance of the Abnormal Dwellings and then left. As soon as she was gone, I swept my index finger across my right eye, and an eyeball fell into the palm of my hand, smooth and translucent like ancient jade. I closed my right eye and gently tossed the eyeball up into the sky.

My vision suddenly soared along with the eyeball. The vastness of the heavens and earth, the myriad of things, all came into view. The palaces, gardens, plants, and people within the inner city were all within the astonishing range of my sight.

So that's it. I immediately grasped the insight into the location of the Waste Dwellings.

I caught the falling eyeball with one hand. The eyeball was smooth and transparent, almost slipping through my fingers. Fortunately, there was no one around, or this strange sight would have surely scared me into unconsciousness.

This technique of casting the eyeball to gain a broader perspective was a result of a momentary impulse in my mind. In practice, it had strict requirements. Firstly, one's vision needed to be sharp enough; otherwise, even if the eyeball reached high altitudes, it might not be able to see clearly. Secondly, there was the occasional risk of not catching the eyeball, and although the artisan's eyeball wouldn't break upon impact, it might be challenging to find.

Finally, I stood in front of the entrance of the Waste Dwellings for a long time, calming my gaze.

10

There is a rule in Inhumans: you are not allowed to meet other Inhumans. Every day you walk out of your room, you must wear the hat and veil that go with the palace. With my eyesight, I can read other people's faces, but I still don't talk or deliver things.

After three days, my inner doubts were especially serious. Although it is used to entertain all kinds of capable people and different people, they are not allowed to meet each other or give orders to the so-called matters. They are idle day and night, which is more like a prison than a reception. After a few days of anxiety, one night, I slipped out of the inhuman and followed the route I had in mind to see the "demon" in the maid's mouth 」.

If what the maid said is true, there may be magic. The biggest demons are people.

I wore a hat, a veil, and a black umbrella, walking through the night. Leng Yue solitary, no sound around, as silent as the grave, only footsteps echo. When I was close to the basket case, I saw a faint shadow in front of me.

It's a living thing. Like a sheep and a horse, he landed on all four feet and walked slowly. But I have never seen a sheep and horse like that, so I have to look closely. I didn't know it was human.

It was an old man whose arms had been replaced by twisted legs, and where the mouth had been, it had become smooth and nothing.

The body can only crawl on the ground, the neck is so stiff that I can't raise my head. Naturally, I can't see the moon.

He finally found someone approaching, but he couldn't make a sound. He could only hum in panic in his nasal cavity. His turbid eyes showed horror and his body trembled uncontrollably.

My heart trembled, put the black umbrella to the ground a little, said: "old man, don't be afraid. I mean no harm. 」

The old man had obviously found it hard to trust people, but he could not stop retreating. I crouched down, lowered my head deeply and said, "It's my Cheng family's failure to be a bad craftsman. 」

I lightly pressed my right hand on the back of the old man's neck and gently stroked under his nose.

I said, "Now you can lift your head and speak."

The old man was both surprised and delighted, tears welling up in his eyes. He trembled with excitement, wanting to look up at the sky. However, the new opening I made for him was crude, and it had been a long time since he had spoken, so all he could manage was a feeble voice, saying, "Tha..."

After just one sentence, the old man started coughing, hunched over.

I patted his back and ran my right hand down his spine, saying, "You don't have to rush to speak. Although I've given you a voice, your vocal cords are severely damaged, and coupled with your weak physical condition, it's not convenient for you to speak. I'll just ask you some questions, and you nod for 'yes' and shake your head for 'no'."

As I touched the old man's body, I discovered that it wasn't just his limbs and mouth that had been tampered with; multiple organs, veins, and bones throughout his body were in a state of chaos. He must have been in immense pain, perhaps wishing for death. Such torturous methods not only required a skilled craftsman, but also a cruel one.

At this stage, I was helpless. Using my skills carelessly would only increase his suffering. Even if my father were here, he might not be able to repair this old man. Although a craftsman can repair people, they cannot repair everyone completely.

I asked, "The person who did this to you, was it someone from the palace?"

He nodded.

"Have you seen his face?"

He shook his head.

"Have you been like this for five years?"

He nodded, then whispered, "Seven."

Seeing the pain in his expression, it seemed that he was recalling the nightmares from years ago. I couldn't bear to ask further, so I said, "Did you come out, old man, to see the moon?"

He nodded.

I raised the black umbrella and asked, "Do you have any other wishes? Tell me, and I'll do my best to fulfill them for you."

Finally, the old man smiled, but tears streamed down his face as he stuttered out two words, "Kill... me."

I had already guessed his desire, so I stood beside the old man and opened the umbrella. The carvings appeared eerie under the moonlight. In an instant, the old man beneath the black umbrella turned into a pool of flesh, which soon scattered into blood, ultimately forming a rising red mist, like cinnabar floating in the air, clinging to the patterns on the umbrella.

Born without joy, seeking only pleasure in death.

I turned my head and hurriedly closed the umbrella, causing the maid who had been secretly watching for a long time to let out a startled cry.

11

This is the maid who guided me. I asked her, "Sister, how long have you been watching?"

"I know I was wrong. I made mistakes. Please, forgive me..." She knelt down, ready to kowtow to me. I quickly helped her up and said, "Sister, I believe you haven't been sleeping and have been wandering here because you are concerned about this disabled person. I just want to ask you, who is that old man we encountered just now?"

"I don't know," she said, starting to sob and crying uncontrollably.

"I won't harm you," I said, placing my hand on her shoulder gently. I felt something strange in her shoulder bone, and her right arm felt weak. She quickly broke free from my grasp and attempted to kowtow again.

Her eyes drifted towards my umbrella, perhaps fearing the black umbrella. I turned the umbrella away from her and said, "Sister, do you feel unwell anywhere in your body?"

She shook her head, trembling with increased fear.

Frowning, I had to say, "Forget it. I won't force you or make things difficult for you. I just want to know your name. Can you tell me?"

She nodded, finally willing to stand up and said, "This humble woman has a lowly name: Wenliang."

Wenliang didn't speak, but I could guess a few things. She was hiding something, feeling guilty, hesitant to speak, and she must have some knowledge about the strange happenings in the palace. However, she was genuinely afraid and had something she couldn't easily disclose. I concluded that she wouldn't go around spreading what she had witnessed. So I didn't ask her further, and we went our separate ways.

I was worried about the commotion caused by Wenliang, fearing it would lead to trouble, so I returned to my residence.

Since then, there have been six or seven more guards stationed outside my door. However, I still believed that this matter had nothing to do with Wenliang; otherwise, I wouldn't have ended up in such a predicament. If the people in the court were to hear that I possessed an umbrella capable of killing without leaving a trace, even if I wasn't a villainous person, I wouldn't survive for long.

This time, I couldn't find any oversight to exploit, and I was confined for over half a month.

At night, lying in bed, my mind was in turmoil, disrupting my peace of mind and sleep. I sat up, preparing to investigate, when I noticed a figure crouching outside the window.

Through the cracks in the window, I could roughly guess who this visitor was.

I asked, "How did you come here? Come in," as I let her inside.

Mingcai was covered in blood, with a deep knife wound on her shoulder. She jumped down from the platform and brushed off the dust, saying, "There was a pretty maid who told me you were here."

I sighed and shook my head, "I was asking about the guards at the front. How did you manage to sneak past them?"

She nonchalantly replied, "I told them I was a court painter and wanted to come in for a stroll. They didn't believe me, so I had to jump onto the rooftops. I didn't expect there to be three armed guards on the roof, and they brought me down."

She spoke casually, but I still couldn't ease my worries. I lightly touched her collarbone, right shoulder, and right elbow with my right hand and said, "Two slashes, one stab. One bone injury, two tendon injuries, and your right arm almost got broken. If it were any worse, I wouldn't be able to fix you. Even in this condition, it will take an hour to heal you."

Mingcai couldn't stand steady, so she leaned against the wall. She pulled out several scrolls from her waist and said, "I'm fine. I came to bring you a few paintings."

I glanced at them briefly. There were sedan chairs, chairs, and vases - ordinary objects from the palace.

But upon closer inspection, I noticed something peculiar.

"Wait a minute, Mingcai, did you paint all of these?"

"Of course," her voice sounded a bit weak.

"When did you become so skilled at painting still life?"

She didn't answer. It was then that I noticed Mingcai's pale complexion and her lips turning bluish. She collapsed in the corner of the wall.

12

As the sky grew darker, the sunlight turned hazy.

Mingcai was more severely injured than I had anticipated, with pain reaching her bones and tendons, and slight internal bleeding. It took me a full three hours to repair her. Exhausted, I collapsed directly onto the bed and fell asleep.

In my dream, I saw Mingcai amidst a sea of pure whiteness. White willow leaves fluttered past me like pixels. I heard Mingcai singing softly beside me, a tune unfamiliar to my ears. Her singing was a blend of weeping and speaking, with a hint of intoxication. Her voice was simple and sincere, and she sang each word:

With wisdom and confusion, Distinguishing between self and things. Countless yang, countless yin, Transforming into heaven and earth. Unseen goodness, unseen evil, Only the cause and effect remain. Myriad saints, demonic spirits, Leaving it to others to judge.

What was this song? What were the lyrics?

In the end, the line that echoed in my mind was "Myriad saints, demonic spirits, leaving it to others to judge." Lost in the enchantment, I awoke.

When I woke up, Mingcai was sitting by the bedside. In truth, I wanted to ask her why she had cried after our parting that day, and I was even more curious about the melody from my dream. But in the end, I didn't utter those questions.

She spoke first, asking, "Can your body still hold up?"

I said, "Of course, I can handle it. It's just a small matter. But I have something important to tell you, and I hope you won't be mad at me."

She replied, "Go ahead, tell me. I'll listen first."

I pointed at the cabinet and said, "The guards were injured, and the palace is on high alert. They also searched my place. In order to hide you in the cabinet, I had to dismantle you."

"Dismantle me?"

"Yes, I disassembled you into several pieces, piled them up, and stacked them. Even though you might not have known if I hadn't told you, I still felt that I shouldn't hide it from you, especially..."

She stared at me in shock and couldn't speak for a while.

Mingcai touched herself all over, then pointed at me, and I quickly signaled her to keep her voice down.

"You touched my whole body!"

I didn't expect her to focus on that point, and I couldn't help but laugh and cry, saying, "That's beside the point. I just feel that tearing a person apart goes against the laws of nature. Besides, we were still separated by clothing..."

"Well, I find it quite interesting."

"This is not something funny, Mingcai," I shook my head and said, "My father once spoke of artisans who, in times of refuge, had to disassemble their own flesh and bones to hide. Although they were eventually restored by others, they couldn't bear the state after being dismantled. They lived their days in confusion, suffering, and eventually perished."

She clearly didn't absorb my explanation.

I picked up the scroll and asked, "Let's get back to the important matter. What's the origin of these paintings?"

"They are indeed my paintings, objects from the palace that I depicted after becoming a court painter."

"But you can't paint still life."

She jumped off the bed and smiled, saying, "That's because those are all living creatures."

A shudder ran through me involuntarily.

"You mean, these were once people?" I asked.

"They were people, and they are still alive now."

"That's highly unlikely. If you hollow out objects, use the techniques of an artisan to soften and divide a person, infuse them inside, or perform human skinning, placing them inside an object to let their blood vessels and meridians grow together with the external material, both of these methods are extremely difficult. Even if they were successful, the person wouldn't live for long."

"Then take a look at this." Mingcai pulled out a crumpled sheet of rice paper from her sleeve, hastily sketching a humanoid figure on it.

It was the old man who transformed into an umbrella that night.

I asked, "Have you also seen this old man?"

She replied, "I caught a glimpse of him at night. It was too brief, so I only drew a rough depiction. I showed this paper to a maid, and she said that the old man was supposed to become a 'chair,' but his physical condition was too weak, so he ended up as a so-called 'useless person.'"

I was speechless for a while. What kind of person would turn others into molds, making them into chairs, causing them to fall apart and suffer a fate worse than death? How could such acts defy the natural order and human ethics? How many people and events have I encountered in this palace? How much do I really know? The evil I have touched may only be a river, while the unseen evil could be an ocean.

A burning sensation ignited in my chest, making me feel uncomfortable.

After contemplating for a moment, I asked, "The maid you've been talking about, is her name Wenliang?"

Mingcai shook her head and said, "I don't know. After becoming a painter, that maid would bring me paper and ink. I asked her if she had seen a slightly frail man with a long tube on his back. She mentioned that you were here, and so on. I showed her the image of the old man, and she told me that he was a discarded 'chair person.'"

Now I had a rough idea in my mind. The maid Mingcai encountered must be Wenliang. However, Wenliang refused to reveal everything she knew to me, yet she was willing to tell Mingcai all the details. If we talk about trusting Mingcai, she and I were merely acquaintances who had encountered each other by chance. There was hardly any emotional connection. If Wenliang had some other motive involving Mingcai, such as wanting a particular painting, perhaps it would make more sense. After all, Mingcai's depiction of living creatures was terrifyingly exquisite...

As I glanced at the scattered scrolls on the bed, a lingering confusion resurfaced, and I asked a question that had been bothering me for a while, "Mingcai, is there a reason why you can only paint living creatures?"

"If I were to ask you why your umbrella is so extraordinary, would you have a reason?" she replied.

Was she talking about her exceptional brushwork? I hadn't quite figured out the underlying logic when I noticed a hint of disappointment in her eyes as she looked at me. There was a touch of melancholy hidden within her gaze, but she maintained a smile on her face, as if teasing me.

It was at that moment that I realized Mingcai had risked her life to meet me, and she had stayed by my side for a whole day, yet I hadn't shown her any concern or care.