Historias de fantasmas

Capítulo 15

Sun Jing stopped where Han Shang had died. The traces on the ground were almost invisible, but the image of her trying to say something in her last moments was right before her eyes.

From yesterday to today, Han Shang's status in his heart has risen from a stranger with whom he had no feelings to a companion with whom he shares a certain connection. This connection is indescribable, but it is so profound that even though the two are now separated by life and death, he can still feel the gaze of the unseen world upon him.

Sun Jing once felt that the experiment Han Shang mentioned in the recording had little to do with her. So much so that even after receiving the Medanzo bronze medal, she didn't bother to investigate further.

Now, things are different. He doesn't even need to make a decision. As his mother said, it's fate.

He turned around at the end of the alley and slowly walked back the way he came.

A tricycle passed him by, its old-fashioned furniture heavy, and the driver's heavy breathing was clearly audible.

Sun Jing remembered seeing this carriage before. Right when Han Shang died, the driver stopped the carriage on the side of the road and squeezed into the crowd to watch the commotion. It seemed he often passed by this side road.

Sun Jing suddenly stopped and turned to stare at the tricycle. The driver leaned slightly forward, his calf muscles bulging so much that they were visible even through his trousers. Watching the tricycle slowly drive away, Sun Jing took off after it.

"Hey, wait a minute, stop for a second."

The driver pulled the handbrake, and the carriage came to a stop.

"What's wrong?" he asked Sun Jing.

"A few days ago, a flowerpot fell and killed someone. Did you see it?" Sun Jing asked, but his eyes swept over the old furniture loaded on the truck. There were two mahogany octagonal tables tied together with hemp rope, and four chairs. They were no more than fifty years old and nothing special.

The driver was a middle-aged man with thinning hair and a bald head. He had one foot on the ground and the other on the pedal, looking at Sun Jing with some confusion.

"I saw it, so what?"

Sun Jing took out a cigarette and handed it to her, smiling kindly. "It won't take up more than a few minutes of your time. Actually, I'm a painter. I was there that day, and the scene was so shocking. After I got back, I thought about painting it. I've walked back and forth on this street many times these past few days, trying to recreate the scene as realistically as possible. I remember you were carrying something in your car, but I can't recall what it was."

The driver smiled, took the cigarette, and tucked it behind his ear. He had never imagined he could help a painter, though not by painting his portrait, which left him slightly disappointed.

"That was terrifying! I only glanced at it and couldn't bear to look any longer. You're going to draw it? You're going to include me in it too?"

"Draw a blurry side view of you and this car. Of course, you can draw whatever you want on the car, but I just happened to run into you here, so I'm asking."

"Okay, okay, let me think. What I installed that day was... a bookshelf, this tall and this wide." He gestured to Sun Jing as he tried to explain.

"A bookshelf?" Sun Jing was somewhat disappointed. This wasn't what he had imagined. He tried hard to recall—was it really a bookshelf?

"Yes, a bookcase and a dressing table, just those two things."

"A dressing table?" Sun Jing asked, "A dressing table with a mirror?"

"Yes, the dressing table has a mirror."

"How did you put these two things?" Sun Jing asked, pointing to the tricycle. "The dressing table is on this side? And the mirror is facing outwards?"

"Yes, yes."

"Were you riding from one end to the other that day, just like today?"

"yes."

Sun Jing breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you so much, you've done me a huge favor."

The driver grinned, "Oh, it's nothing, haha."

He certainly wouldn't know why this "painter," who clearly had the air of an artist, valued the old furniture he was carrying in his car so much.

That noon, the first layer of the thick fog that had surrounded the end of the alley was finally lifted.

Based on the approximate speed of the tricycle, the old woman in the grocery store likely saw the "ghost" in the mirror on the dressing table inside. When her daughter also looked in the same direction, it was too late; the tricycle had already driven out of sight, so she only saw Xu Xu.

It's impossible to know the exact location and angle of the mirror at that time, but in short, it reflected a scene from somewhere on the other side. Xu Xu must have been frightened by the "ghost" on the other side, and Han Shang's sudden stop was most likely due to the same reason.

Sun Jing's sunlight slowly swept across the opposite side of the small street, in segments...

The exterior walls are mottled, and the windows are covered with grease and grime that have not been cleaned for a long time.

The doors, one after another, were tightly closed, brown wooden doors... in the midday sun.

What breathtaking events unfolded in that corner, visible to only a few?

matter?

The truth is the most luxurious thing in the world, and when you decide to pursue it, you must learn to be cautious. Beware of cheap imitations.

Seven Herdin's New Battlefield

A cold front has arrived these past few days, and the temperature has dropped sharply.

Wen Zhen sat on the sofa, her neck hunched, as if the office heating was useless to her. Xu Xu watched him practically bury his head in his shoulders, thinking he looked like a turtle trying to hide its head in its shell, belly up. But this scene didn't amuse her at all; instead, it filled her with utter disgust, and she just wanted to get as far away as possible. Okay, she'd better maintain her professional demeanor and give him that awful smile.

She and Sun Jing visited Wen Zhenhe again, clinging to a slim hope that he might agree to tour the storeroom. Sun Jing was meticulous and scholarly in his forgery work. He could select skulls as materials for his forgeries based on the official replicas from the Tokyo Museum, but he dared not attempt a forgery without personally examining the genuine article. Although they could see the genuine article through the charity exhibition celebrating Mr. Ouyang's birthday, firstly, the exhibition wouldn't last long, and forgery also required a period of time, so they might not be able to complete it within that time; secondly, even if they could complete it, the exhibition would definitely be nearing its end, leaving them insufficient time to change the packaging, and they might miss the best opportunity to act; and thirdly, Xu Xu still hadn't completely won over Ouyang Wenlan.

Of course, while that was the main purpose, most of the conversation was spent consulting with Wen Zhenhe about how to run a dedicated oracle bone museum, what precautions to take, and how to manage it. These were clearly the main issues the future curator should consider, and Wen Zhenhe spoke eloquently and animatedly.

However, when the two felt that the sedan chair had been carried long enough, and after exchanging glances, their attempt to inquire about the visit was once again rejected.

Well, it was only a one in ten thousand chance to begin with.

But it's still frustrating.

Sun Jing drank a lot of tea. Before leaving, he went to the restroom. When he came back, Wen Zhen and his only subordinate, Xiao Chen, were coming out of the office. He nodded and greeted them.

Xiao Chen looked terrible all day, as if something was on his mind. He forced a smile at Sun Jing. Just as they were about to pass each other, he stopped and asked, "I saw that news in the evening paper, Teacher Sun. Are you planning to invite Director Wen to be the curator?"

"Miss Xu seems to have this plan, but I'm not entirely sure myself," Sun Jing offered a vague, tentative agreement. "Why?"

"Oh...no, nothing, just a little curious." He forced a smile at Sun Jing, then left with the documents in his hands.

Perhaps he wanted a change of scenery? Sun Jing didn't think much of it; after all, this so-called private oracle bone museum was just a castle in the air.

"Are you going to Fuxing Road this afternoon?" Sun Jing asked Xu Xu after leaving the East Museum.

She nodded slowly. She went there every afternoon, and sometimes the old gentleman would invite her to stay for dinner.

What exactly is his attitude now?

“I’ve brought it up a few times, and I can tell he’s definitely interested. He’s probably hesitant because it’s too complicated to actually do it. I can’t just say I’ll take care of everything so quickly. I’ll wait a couple of days until things are more settled, then I’ll recognize him as my godfather, and then I’ll bring it up again. That way, it’ll definitely work out.”

“The generational order is messed up; he could be your great-grandfather.”

"I've never heard of someone recognizing a great-grandfather. Remember to call me aunt from now on." Xu Xu smiled and glanced at Sun Jing, having already forgotten the humiliation she suffered at Wen Zhen's place.

“Auntie,” Sun Jing said casually.

"Hmm." Xu Xu Meimei responded, but then suddenly realized something was wrong. Sun Jing would be thirty years old after the New Year, so she angrily reached out and pinched his arm.

Sun Jing grabbed her hand in his palm, and she slowly but surely did not struggle, but instead used her fingernails to fiercely stab him.

“I’ll go there this afternoon too,” Sun Jing said.

What are you going to do?

"Ask me some questions, about my own affairs."

"About your great-grandfather?"

Sun Jing nodded, "It's mine too."

Can I hear it?

"Whatever," Sun Jing replied after a moment of silence.

She slowly withdrew her hand. She had been stabbing Sun Jing for a long time. She glanced at her own fingernails with resentment, then grabbed Sun Jing's hand.

"Are you dead? You won't even scream if I pinch you."

“Men are generally not very good at making noise,” Sun Jing said.

She spat at him slowly, then looked down and rummaged through her bag for a band-aid.

Sun Jing looked at her and smiled gently.

When they arrived at the Ouyang family's house, the door happened to be open. A small van with the words "Linshuixuan" painted on it was parked by the roadside; the name sounded like a restaurant. The driver was holding a very delicate blue and white porcelain jar and handing it to Abao, who had opened the door.

"I made an appointment to see the old man," Sun Jing said with a smile to A Bao.

Ah Bao, holding the small porcelain jar, chuckled and said, "That's right, that's right, come on."

He let Sun Jing in, then remembered that the door wasn't closed. He put the porcelain jar in Sun Jing's arms, closed the door himself, and then took the jar back.

"Delicious stuff." He smiled broadly as he saw Sun Jing examining the jar. Clearly, he loved what was inside.

Could it be Korean kimchi? Sun Jing thought with amusement as he looked at A Bao's innocent and naive appearance.

The weather was cold today, even though it was afternoon. The old gentleman wouldn't be leisurely boiling water and drinking tea under the grape trellis as he had last time. Abao led Sun Jing into the Western-style building, which was warm and cozy inside, seemingly with underfloor heating. Although the building looked old, the interior had actually been completely renovated.

Ascending the corner staircase, one finds scenic windows, each divided into six small panes of glass, simple and elegant. Outside, wooden shutters, painted a deep red from years ago, are half-open. On the first floor, near the corner, is a small platform with a balcony accessible by a sliding door. The balcony is small, and usually no one actually stands there. Yet, this space brings the atmosphere of the outside garden in, much like the pavilion on the hillside is described as a "place to absorb the clouds," embodying the spirit of Eastern architectural aesthetics. Although, overall, it is a European-style building.

The large room on the second floor facing south was covered with a thick layer of long-staple wool carpet. Stepping on it after taking off your shoes, you felt so soft and warm that you wanted to lie down inside.

Xu Xu was also there. The room was as warm as late spring or early summer. She was only wearing a thin beige T-shirt with a low neckline adorned with a circle of pearls, so alluring that one would want to linger there. When Sun Jing entered the room, she was supporting Ouyang Wenlan as they stood in front of a pair of huanghuali wood multi-tiered screens.

The shelves on the display cases vary in size and shape, some convex and some concave, arranged in a staggered pattern. This style of furniture is unique to China and is specifically designed for displaying collectible items. Each of these display cases has twenty shelves, and at a glance, one can see several small bronze vessels, ivory and wood carvings, and some blue-and-white or famille rose porcelain dishes and vases, but the most numerous items are wooden boxes propped up at an angle by small supports.

The wooden box had a transparent glass lid with a white lining. It contained these brown, grayish-white, or yellowish-white oracle bones.

Ouyang Wenlan pointed to one of the boxes and said slowly, "This oracle bone has a history; it tells of a sacrifice to the kings of the early Shang dynasty. Look here: 'Zu Yi, Zu Xin, Zu Ding, one ox, one sheep, Nan Geng, Qiang Jia,' this is Mr. Guo Wei's interpretation. But Mr. Moruo said it's wrong, Mr. Wang is wrong. Why is the sacrificial offering of one ox and one sheep placed in the middle of the king's name? There's no right order. The order is wrong, and some characters are also misinterpreted. Actually, it's 'Zu Yi, Zu Xin, Zu Ding, Jia, one sheep, one Nan,' where one sheep and one Nan both refer to the sacrificial offerings. Mr. Moruo's supplementary interpretation is very famous; this matter established his status as a great scholar of oracle bone inscriptions. Of course, there's also his textual research on Yang Jia."

"But what kind of offering is this 'Yi Nan'?" Xu Xu had just asked this question when A Bao led Sun Jing into the house.

"It's here, it's here," said Abao.

Ouyang Wenlan ignored A Bao, nodded and smiled at Sun Jing, and said, "Little Sun, you tell me about the 'Nan' in 'Yi Yang Yi Nan'."

This carries a hint of testing the younger generation.

However, Sun Jing carried the memories of his ancestors, and with his own study of oracle bone script over the past ten years, facing such a problem was like a scholar taking a middle school exam.

Sun Jing walked to the two of them and replied, "Mr. Mo Ruo's explanation is that 'Nan' refers to a musical instrument from the Shang Dynasty. Judging from the evolution of the character's form, it resembles both a bell and a chime. However, there is no concrete archaeological evidence to support this, so it can only be considered a conjecture."

Ouyang Wenlan smiled and nodded.

"What is this?" Xu Xu asked, looking at A Bao who was hugging the porcelain jar tightly.

It seems her relationship with Ouyang Wenlan is indeed not far from the point where they can become each other's godfathers. She's not the kind of person who would rashly ask such a rude question.

"Go and get three small dishes," Ouyang Wenlan said to Abao. "If you want to eat, get a small dish too."

"Okay, okay!" Abao skipped out like a child.

"I'm still the same old person when I'm old, I love to eat. You guys can try some later. Consider it a snack for afternoon tea," Ouyang Wenlan said.

"At your age, it's truly remarkable that you still have such a zest for life." Sun Jing's words were not flattery. To enjoy life at almost a hundred years old requires both the means and the mindset; how many people can do that?

"Please sit down."