El beso inolvidable de Ghost Lips

Capítulo 4

I feel disheartened whenever I think about it. Yesterday I was thinking that God was starting to take care of me, but it seems I'm not destined to enjoy such good fortune.

Thinking it best to ride my bike back, I didn't dare to return the way I came this time. I took a huge detour, almost crossing the entire city of Taiyuan, and didn't get back to the guesthouse near Nangong until it was almost dark at night.

I dumped the car at the entrance of the young master's shop, ran to my room, closed all the doors and windows, and sat on the bed to pack my things. I didn't have much with me, so I finished packing quickly. I carried it on my back and planned to go to the station that night to catch a train south and find a small village to hide in. I didn't even want to take a shower.

But just as I reached the door, I suddenly kicked something. Looking down, I saw it was the old man's tattered bag, the one he used to carry around his antiques, lying quietly on the ground. I picked it up and rummaged through it; the five thousand yuan I'd given him yesterday was inside.

I hesitated immediately. Wouldn't this mean I'd gained a huge fortune without spending a single penny? Wang Quansheng told me that he still had a wife and children at home, so he definitely couldn't go back. In those kinds of families, if the man dies, it's truly tragic. My next-door neighbors back home were like that. My grandmother often helped them out and would shed tears for them when she talked about it.

Chapter Seven Linhe County

Although I am not responsible for his death, if I take this five thousand yuan, I will probably never have peace of mind for the rest of my life. Leaving it here would be foolish.

After thinking it over, I decided to send the money back to him first. Since I was going to run away anyway, I might as well run to the countryside, give them the money, and if possible, take other things from his house and give them more money. That way, I would feel more at ease.

I thought about it and wondered what else they might bring up. This small set alone would be enough to keep me happy for years. If I could bring out a few big ones, I would feel a little excited.

If there's something really good, even if I don't sell it well, the base price will be enough for me to use for a lifetime. Although it's a bit risky to go now, it's still worth the risk.

However, I only know that he is in Linhe County, but I don't know which township it is in.

I searched his bag, regretting not checking his belongings before disposing of the body. Luckily, I found a bag of "Wutaishan" cigarettes in his bag.

People from Shanxi say they don't smoke local cigarettes or drink alcohol from other places, but it seems this old man hasn't quite lived up to that.

The cigarette inside was almost gone. I emptied it, and a train ticket came out. Looking at it, it said Linhe to Taiyuan. I flipped it over and found a phone number on the back, the same number he had given me.

It should be the phone number of his workplace, then there's no problem, we'll definitely be able to find him.

I carefully put my wallet in my bag. By then, I had calmed down and thought that there probably wouldn't be any buses at night, so there was no need to rush. I took a shower, felt hungry, and headed towards the young master's shop.

The young master was washing the car when he saw me and yelled, "What the hell did you use my car to transport? It stinks!"

I made up a random excuse to get away with it, smiling and apologizing as I ordered drinks and food. I sat down near his door and asked him, "You travel a lot, do you know this place called Linhe?"

The young master nodded: "Of course I know, it's a famous place."

"How is it famous?" I asked.

"It's notoriously poor. It's located near the Yellow River, and the area is also mountainous, making transportation inconvenient. So it hasn't developed at all. The county seat is alright, but the smaller towns below don't even have electricity yet."

When I heard that, I felt a little relieved. In underdeveloped places, people are less informed, which makes it easier to carry out many things. Moreover, people in those places are generally more honest and simple and don't have many ulterior motives. I would be safer there. So I asked him how to get there.

Upon hearing this, the young master suddenly leaned closer and asked me, "What, planning to strike while the iron is hot and go find that fake Southern scoundrel?"

I nodded and lied to him, saying, "The stuff I got yesterday wasn't as good as I thought, so I wanted to go down and take another look to see if they had anything better. I also wanted to visit their village and try my luck. It's been a long time since I've gone down there to collect things."

The young master was intrigued. He stopped washing the car, wiped his hands on his clothes, and said, "That's wonderful, Master Xu. I have a favor to ask; could you perhaps do me a favor?"

I was surprised to hear this; this kid actually called me Master Xu? I was flattered and quickly asked, "What kind of help?"

He scratched his head and said, "Actually, I have a classmate in Nangong. His wife gave birth these past few days, and he's planning to move his shop back to Hunan. He still has half a year's rent left to pay, and he asked if I wanted it. He said he'd give me a discount. You know how tough it is to get a stall in Nangong these days, so I was thinking of taking over for him—"

So he wanted to change careers. I thought to myself, does he want to sell his goods through me?

The young master has a long-standing desire to enter this industry, but with me as a negative example in front of him, he has never dared to actually take action. However, seeing that someone like me made a fortune yesterday, he couldn't hold back anymore, which I can understand.

I asked, "Do you have that much money? To cover it up? Are you closing your restaurant? And don't believe everything you hear..." In Hunan, when a woman gives birth, it's slang for her being caught in a scandal, meaning her affair has been exposed. You wouldn't know these things unless you're in the know.

There's another story here. There was a tomb raider who ran a trading company in Xi'an, importing goods from Changsha. Unfortunately, that year, several of his supply points in Changsha were shut down during a crackdown. Back then, it was a bit early on, and phone calls were all relayed by word of mouth. As a result, he kept calling for two or three months, saying that his wife was having a baby. The guy didn't realize the negative impact this would have and was worried that Lei Zi would come knocking on his door. Unexpectedly, six months later, Lei Zi didn't come, but the family planning officials did.

The young master touched the table and sighed, "My classmate didn't ask me to pay so quickly, so I was thinking, if you go to the countryside to collect things, could you take me with you? I'll collect a few to sell and see if I'm cut out for it. I can also learn from you. You know my eye for quality; I might not be able to buy anything. Besides, Wang Quansheng has so many good things; you can't possibly eat them all, right? So let me get a share too. Don't forget, I'm the one who built this bridge for you."

My first reaction was no, I was planning to run for my life, and it would be uncomfortable to have another person around, but I couldn't bring myself to say that, because it was indeed the young master who encouraged me to go find that old man, even though his offer to get a share of the spoils at this point seemed a bit like taking advantage of the situation.

After thinking it over, I decided it was a good idea. If he came down with me, firstly, he had been there before, and even a powerful dragon can't suppress a local snake, so he could make things easier for me along the way; secondly, he could also provide cover for me. Anyway, what I collect is mine, and what he collects is his. It's the rule of the underworld, and it won't hinder me from doing my business.

Chapter Eight: The Japanese Invade the Village

Most importantly, I don't have much money left. That five thousand yuan was for Wang Quansheng's family, so I can't use it. If he could come with me, I could save on general expenses on the road.

With my own plans in mind, I nodded in agreement. The young master was overjoyed and immediately told the kitchen to order some good dishes to entertain me.

While the iron was hot, the matter of buying tickets was entrusted to him. Once the time was set, the matter was finalized.

No one expected that what awaited us was a nightmare.

The next day, we changed into simpler clothes and took a four-hour train ride to Linhe. Linhe County was relatively developed, with multi-story buildings, electric lights, and telephones, but compared to Taiyuan, it felt worlds apart. The main problem was the lack of a pillar industry; both agriculture and industry were underdeveloped.

The young master came down with me this time for two reasons: one, he wanted me to help him collect some things; two, he wanted to learn something, anything. He's Wang Quansheng's prized possession, and if I could get a few of them from my side, it would be a great start for his business. He kept talking to me the whole way, and I couldn't stand it, so I told him not to ask questions now, that I'd teach him when we were collecting the things.

After arriving in Linhe County, the young master asked me if there was anything I could buy in the town. I told him not to waste his energy. Although there have been many ancient tombs near Linhe County since ancient times, and the Yellow River floods every year, almost always bringing up one or two, the people here are from the county town, and the villagers in the surrounding suburbs are aware of the antique trade. Therefore, the prices here are not cheap, and unless you see something particularly good, no one is willing to come here to buy. We're here now, so we don't need to buy anything, but we can take a look around and let you familiarize yourself with the business.

So we stayed in Linhe for a day. I symbolically took the young master to the suburbs, where we looked around, tapped on things, and chatted with him about the past five thousand years of history. It was a way of repaying him for the expenses he incurred along the way.

Strangely, I called the phone number Wang Quansheng wrote on the back of the train ticket many times, but no one answered. During that time, I went to the local post office to ask if there was anything wrong with the phone number. After sacrificing a pack of Hongtashan cigarettes, an old postman told us that the number, which starts with the number 6, was not from the county seat, but from a small town called Donghuashan in Linhe County, which is located on the banks of the Yellow River.

I realized he was at Donghua Mountain, so there must be another reason why he didn't answer the phone. So I told the young master that we should go to a proper place to start our business.

There's no train to Donghua Mountain, only minibuses. It's crowded and chaotic. The Western Han bronze item I was carrying was quite valuable, and it wasn't appropriate to get it on the bus. So I mailed it at the post office first. The bronze piece itself wasn't worth much, and I was afraid it would get lost if I mailed it. So I found a toilet and wrapped it around my stomach before getting on the bus.

The car sped along the mountain road, bumping violently. The van was already small, and now it was crammed with seventeen people, including the driver, plus a lot of luggage, making the air feel particularly stuffy.

The journey was long, and I leaned my head against the window, looking at the Loess Plateau outside, hoping to find some scenery. However, this area is eroded by the Yellow River every year, and the weathering is very serious. Many mountains and rivers have already suffered severe landslides. After the Yellow River washes away the topsoil, vegetation cannot grow, creating a vicious cycle. Year after year, only sparse trees and ravines remain, making the scenery very monotonous.

The young master was very excited along the way, chatting about this and that with the people around him, asking about Donghua Mountain.

Along the way, we met two merchants who were going to Donghua Mountain to buy goods. One was fat and the other was thin. They were both very talkative. They told us that Donghua Mountain was located in a remote area, but it was a specialty of a kind of Chinese medicine. It was said to be a prescription from the local ethnic minorities. It had a good inhibitory effect on epilepsy. However, this herb was only produced for one season each year, so it was very precious. They came to buy it once a year.

There were three other people: a professor and two students from the university. They were supposedly studying folklore. They had a research project at the university, so they came to the countryside to collect materials. The young master thought this was a government-funded trip and was very envious. I told him that doing research is very hard, especially for something like this. The funding is very limited, and sometimes they have to pay out of their own pockets. You also need to have personal interests to do it. Otherwise, who would want to come to this poor and remote place?

Several people were very interested in us when they heard that we were antique dealers. The young master was very good at talking and left them speechless. So they agreed to go together and let them see our process of collecting antiques. I disagreed at first, but then I thought that it might be more convenient to go with these people. Moreover, one of the female students, Wang Ruonan, was very beautiful. It was hard to refuse her request in the blink of an eye.

The others are all primary school students who go to school in the county and only come home once a month. The rest of the time they live at school, just like when I was in school, so seeing them brings back a lot of memories.

After a bumpy six-hour drive along mountain roads, our minivan finally entered the area of Donghua Town. Along the way, we saw a few scattered low stone houses on many hillsides. I know that in remote mountainous areas, sometimes these few houses constitute a village.

After passing through several dilapidated archway gates, many stilted houses (buildings suspended on cliffs by long wooden pillars) came into view, and a corner of the Yellow River could be seen in the distance. Several students, probably having never seen such scenery before, kept taking pictures, which aroused the curiosity of the elementary school students.

The driver told us that Donghua Town is an ancient town with a long history, dating back to the Western Han Dynasty. The town has fewer than 200 households and only two main streets. Most of the buildings are tiled houses from the Ming and Qing Dynasties. The entire town is built against the mountain, with bluestone slab roads and ancient ancestral halls and cylindrical buildings everywhere, giving it a very antique feel. Due to the inconvenient transportation, the town only got electricity and telephones two years ago, but many families still rely on kerosene lamps to get by.

I thought to myself that this was good news. Since that was the case, there wouldn't be many places with telephones, so it would be easy to make inquiries.

At that time, in the mountains, things like telephones were a luxury mainly found in government offices, hotels, large factories, and post offices. I figured that my nephew from the south wouldn't be staying in a government office, and there wouldn't be any large factories here, so it would basically be hotels and post offices.

The car stopped at the town entrance because it was too difficult to turn around. We unloaded our luggage, and the two herbal medicine merchants, seeing that we were unfamiliar with the area, told us to follow them, since they also needed to find a place to stay. I quickly thanked them and followed them into town. The young master even followed the example of Lei Feng, helping the old professor carry his things.

Most of the people in the town make a living by dredging silt from the Yellow River. Their clothing is almost the same as before liberation. The small ancient town is usually quiet and peaceful, and few strangers visit. Our arrival surprised the people here. Many people cast strange glances at us on the road. There was even a little child who was a few years old following behind us, just like when we were circling around foreigners in Beijing.

There were no hotels or guesthouses in the town. After walking for a while, I saw a government guesthouse. Compared to this place, the place I stayed near Nangong was like the Hilton Hotel.

The drug dealer said that this was originally a small wooden tenement building owned by a local landlord, the only building in the area that used some bricks. During the Cultural Revolution, the landlord was killed, and the building was left vacant.

This tenement building had always been used to store miscellaneous items for the town. Three years ago, a migrant worker from another place made money and came back to rent it out as a guesthouse. Since it was the only one in the whole town, although it was dilapidated, business was still good. If you didn't sleep here, you would have to sleep on the street.

Upon hearing this, the young master chuckled and whispered to me, "So this place is an old mansion! Old Xu, take a look around, see if there are any antiques. Let's collect them all."

I slapped him to shut his mouth. Back then, you couldn't call someone who collected antiques an antique collector; you had to call them a junk collector. If you said you collected antiques, you couldn't lower the price, and it would be associated with the Four Olds. Although that's no longer a problem, people still feel uncomfortable hearing that.

The guesthouse has a canteen, so they provide meals for guests. I thought that was great, as it would save me money on food, so I booked a room.

The guesthouse only had two staff members. The one who greeted us was a middle-aged man named Lao Cai. He seemed to know several pharmaceutical merchants and greeted them as soon as we met. He was very enthusiastic, helped me with my things, and asked where we were from and what projects we were here for.

I told him we were scrap collectors, and I don't know if he understood the coded language. After settling us in, he invited us to eat at the canteen. Dinner was rice with daylily buds and a plate of eggs. It tasted pretty good. I thought Old Cai was quite the chatterbox, so I asked him if there were any villages below this area. I also took out the train ticket and asked for the phone number, asking if he knew where it was from.

Old Cai looked at the train ticket, frowned, and said, "This number is for the Huangsha construction site ferry. Are you looking for someone? The Huangsha construction site is on the other side of the mountain, far from the town. The Yellow River is low in water right now, so construction hasn't started yet. The workers are on holiday and are all in their own villages. It's hard to find someone in the surrounding area."

I hummed in agreement and said, "Is there anyone on duty at the construction site? I'll ask the person on duty. They work together, so they should know where their colleagues live." The villages here aren't very big. Actually, as long as you know which village it is, you're sure to find it.

Old Cai said, "No, there's no one on duty at the construction site. What duty would there be? There are just a few broken boats and some sand. Are we worried about people stealing sand? Who has the time to leave their work to go stand in the northwest wind by the Yellow River? Besides, when the Yellow River dries up, all sorts of strange things happen. Nobody dares to stay there at night. They say that people who drowned in the Yellow River in the past come out for fresh air at this time. It's said to be very haunted. People here are superstitious. Absolutely no one will stay by the Yellow River at night."

I said "Oh," thinking to myself that this was going to be difficult. If I couldn't get through on the phone, although there weren't many people here, the villages were too far apart and there were no roads, so it would take at least ten days to half a month to walk around.

The old professor was very curious about what Old Cai was saying and asked, "How can it be haunted? The Yellow River can be haunted? But there's no one there, so no one could possibly know if it's haunted?"

Old Cai sat down next to us and lowered his voice: "I heard it from the old folks, just hearsay—every year when the Yellow River dries up, many people hear the sound of iron chains coming from the section of the Yellow River near Huangshachang at night. The sound is like many people walking there wearing shackles. The next day, when everyone goes to check, they find the sand covered with three-inch-long footprints. The old folks say these are the footprints of water ghosts. When the Yellow River dries up, the river god releases water ghosts to breathe."

"Really? You saw it with your own eyes?" the young master asked curiously.

Old Cai nodded: "Of course, I've seen it several times. Those little footprints are just like monkey footprints; they send chills down your spine."

The pharmaceutical merchant seemed quite interested as well, and whispered, "Such a strange thing, isn't there anyone brave enough to go and check it out tonight?"

Old Cai lit a cigarette, nodded mysteriously, and looked around to make sure no one was there before saying, "We don't dare to look, but some brave souls always do. I heard someone went before and said that at night, when it's pitch black, they saw many points of light like wolf eyes floating in the river. I don't know if it's true or not, but a few months ago, four out-of-towners went to see it several times. The last time, only three of them came back; the third one disappeared. They wouldn't tell us where he went. The others looked terrified. Now everyone's saying that the one who didn't come back was probably dragged into the sand by a water ghost. Those four out-of-towners are still staying here, so it's definitely true."

The two college students asked the old professor, "Should we go take a look too?"

The old professor then lectured them: "This is superstition. Superstition and folklore are two different things, and these two things are easily confused, so you must put in the effort. However, you can still take a look."

Old Cai, seeing that we were getting chills from his tone, felt a little smug and continued, "Back then, they lived upstairs. When the three of them came back that day, I asked them what had happened, but they wouldn't say. But later I heard them arguing, arguing really fiercely. Unfortunately, I couldn't understand what they were saying. However, when they got really heated, I heard one of them say something in Shanxi dialect. Can you guess what it was?"

Old Cai has a knack for storytelling, I thought to myself. So we moved closer to him, and the young master said, "My lord, just tell us everything in one go, don't keep us in suspense."

Old Cai chuckled and said, "One of them said: 'There's definitely something at the bottom of that pond. If you don't believe me, fine!'"

I asked curiously, "What does that mean?"

Old Cai shook his head, indicating that he didn't know, but there was indeed a pond at the construction site of the sand factory. It was a dried-up lake in a river channel. This dried-up lake was very large and was usually the last to dry up. People from the sand factory often swam in it, and he had never heard them say that they had seen anything at the bottom.

"That's why I'm wondering," Old Cai said seriously, "could it be that down there, they saw a water ghost peeking out?"

I was very curious and wanted to go see the Yellow River. Old Cai said that if we really wanted to go, we could go during the day. He could take us there tomorrow for just ten yuan per person, and he could take care of everything.

I chuckled to myself, wondering if this guy was involved in tourism. The two drug dealers said they weren't going anymore; they had to go to other villages to buy medicine. I figured since we had no leads, I should just follow the group and head to Huangsha Factory first. If I could run into even one or two people there, that would be a clue. Even if I didn't, there were records back then. I'd go see if there were any clues in their office.

So, he made an appointment with the old professor and several college students to set off early the next morning.

****************************************************************************

After dinner, we went back to our rooms. The lighting inside the tenement building was very poor. There were lights in the canteen, but not in the rooms. Each of us carried a kerosene lamp and climbed the wooden stairs to the second floor. The second floor was like a haunted house from a horror movie. The wooden pillars were covered with spider webs. Although this place looked very peculiar, like something out of the Ming and Qing dynasties, whether we could get used to living there was a real question.

It was still early, and the young master, being a clean freak, went down to the well to fetch water and clean up. I didn't think much of it. Back when I was working on the construction site, I could sleep on any grassy spot. I'd just throw my things on the bed and lie down, looking at the bronze piece by the light of the kerosene lamp. It was said to have been peeled off from the bottom of a river, and the patterns on it were very unique. I'd never looked at it closely before, but now that I had some free time, it was a good opportunity to study it.

I sat up after only a few glances, feeling a bit incredulous.

My research on bronzes is even more focused on porcelain, so I was quite bold when collecting bronzes. When I looked at this bronze fragment, I discovered something strange.

The patterns on this object are very ancient, dating back to the Western Zhou Dynasty. However, the other small bronze pieces are undoubtedly from the Western Han Dynasty, a difference of more than a thousand years.

That's not right. If there's an ancient tomb under the Yellow River, how could the burial objects inside be from such different periods of time? Could it be that the burial objects from two different dynasties just happened to be washed together?

That's highly unlikely. I frowned. Could it be that Wang Quansheng lied to me? These two things didn't come from the same place? But Wang Quansheng doesn't seem like it either.

The most important thing I use to judge whether someone is a fraud is their way of doing things. If Wang Quansheng were an experienced conman, he certainly wouldn't mix up items from two different dynasties and then fabricate a story, nor would he have needed to give me this bronze fragment. I believe what he said is true. So, what exactly is this thing under the Yellow River? Is it an ancient tomb? We need to think about that more carefully.

I remembered that old professor, whose surname was Li. I heard he was also in the field of archaeology. I was thinking that if I had the chance, I could ask him to take a look at this bronze piece. I just didn't know if he would give me that advice, because he didn't seem to think much of us two businessmen.

Seeing my infatuated look, the young master assumed I was obsessed with antiques and mocked me, "Look, look, you'd better be able to eat it."