Chapter 23: The Slaughter of the Innocent (Part 3)

A chill wind rose, making the withered yellow grass rustle mournfully, while white spirit money fluttered through the air. Under the cover of night, the face of the peddler appeared bruised and deathly, becoming unspeakably terrifying.

I thought to myself that I was doomed.

The peddler’s methods were so ruthless that even if the spirit medium Wang or the master in green robes arrived, I feared death would still be my fate. All this flashed through my mind in an instant, and in that instant, I braced myself for the end.

Yet, a heartbeat later, my head was still attached to my shoulders.

Yes, truly still there!

The peddler was still standing in front of me, but the cleaver in his hand had vanished. He was frozen in the act of hurling it at me, yet I was completely unharmed.

What was this? Had he missed? Made a mistake?

At such close range, was that even possible?

But soon I realized something was wrong. I was indeed unscathed, but the boy Maodou on my back had gone utterly still. Just a moment ago, he had been sobbing.

I turned to look and was so startled my skin crawled with goosebumps, for on my back clung a headless child.

Maodou’s body was still wrapped around my shoulders, clutching my neck tightly, but his head was gone. Instinctively, I glanced at the ground, where Maodou’s head had already rolled to the peddler’s feet.

That the peddler would attack me, I could understand; after all, we were enemies of a sort. But for him to kill Maodou with a single blow—what did that mean? Even as a reaper, could he truly slaughter the innocent at will?

“He’s just a child—why did you hurt him?” I demanded, furious, heedless of my own peril.

But the peddler did not answer. Instead, he crouched down, picked up Maodou’s severed head, and tossed it into his basket. Then he gathered the bodies of the rats, throwing them all in as well. No wonder, I thought, that every time I’d seen him, blood oozed from the bottom of his basket—now I knew what he carried.

Once he finished, the peddler looked at me and said, “Carrying a headless corpse—is that supposed to be impressive?”

“Does being a reaper give you the right to kill the innocent?” I pressed. Maodou was just a child, who’d escaped the clutches of the robed Taoists only to die at the peddler’s hand. I couldn’t accept it.

“Innocent? Which eye of yours saw me kill the innocent?” the peddler retorted. He picked up his cleaver, wiped the blood from it with a piece of spirit money, and examined it carefully before returning it to his basket.

I set Maodou’s corpse down, unwilling to look at it any longer, then raised my head to the peddler. “Does this not count as killing the innocent?”

With a fierce glare, the peddler strode over, snatched Maodou’s body from my hands, and threw it into his basket. “I have no time to explain myself to you. I have more important matters to attend to—go play elsewhere!” He sealed his basket, hoisted his pole, and made to leave.

I was surprised.

Just moments ago, he’d accused me of costing him merit, of disgracing him, yet now he was leaving without harming me?

Of course, I had no intention of stopping him to ask why; I was eager for him to be gone. Still, I worried he might go after my grandfather. He’d always had his sights on my grandfather, and if he got careless, his soul would be taken, and he’d truly die.

The peddler drifted away with his basket swinging from his shoulder.

Just as he was about to disappear from view, he suddenly called out, “Boy, our grudge is not forgotten. Rest assured, I will not let you go!”

“Oh, and check your neck!”

With that, a cold mist swirled, shrouding his figure until both he and the underworld road beneath his feet vanished.

He was heading straight toward our village.

“Damn, he really is going to take my grandfather’s soul!”

At the thought, I broke into a run, dashing all the way home. When I reached our gate, I found Old Ox squatting there, puffing on his long-stemmed pipe.

He looked surprised to see me. No doubt he’d thought I would be at my uncle’s house, keeping vigil.

“Boy, what brings you back?” Old Ox asked.

“I ran into the peddler on the road!” I said, glancing anxiously toward my grandfather’s room, uncertain of his condition.

At my words, Old Ox’s face changed. He nearly leapt up, quickly locking the gate behind us.

“Are you serious? Where did you meet him?” He was visibly tense—he and my grandfather were close friends, so he cared deeply about his safety.

I wasn’t sure if the yellow talismans given by the spirit medium would work, but I took out the ones I had left and stuck some on the door. Then Old Ox and I went into my grandfather’s room, locked the door from inside, and used the last of the talismans on it as well.

I gripped my grandfather’s ritual ruler and stood guard at the door.

Old Ox sat by my grandfather’s bed, nervous, glancing out the window every so often. We hardly dared breathe; the atmosphere was thick and motionless.

Time dragged by—half an hour seemed to crawl past. Outside, not a sound disturbed the night—no knocking, no rattle of the peddler’s drum.

Old Ox and I exchanged puzzled looks.

“Boy, are you sure you weren’t mistaken? The peddler hasn’t come at all!” Old Ox said.

“That’s impossible. I ran into Maodou, saved him from the robed Taoists, but the peddler... he chopped Maodou’s head off, right before my eyes…”

The horror of that scene still haunted my mind.

“What? He killed a child?” Old Ox was shocked.

“Yes, I saw it myself.”

Normally, if the peddler intended to come, he’d be here long before me. Yet half an hour had passed with no sign of him. Was he playing tricks? Unlikely—after all, I’d seen his power with my own eyes. If he wanted my grandfather, he had no need for tricks; brute force would be enough.

“Boy, what’s wrong with your neck?” In the brighter light indoors, Old Ox noticed my neck and asked abruptly.

His question jogged my memory—before the peddler left, he’d said, “Check your neck!”

Puzzled, I found a mirror, and what I saw made my blood run cold. Around my neck were two dark purple handprints—child-sized.

The prints were about the size of Maodou’s hands.

In that instant, realization began to dawn. Was it possible that the hands strangling me from behind before weren’t the robed Taoist’s, but Maodou’s?

The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Old Ox added, “Boy, I haven’t seen Old Qiu’s grandson for days, either. And those aren’t ordinary bruises on your neck—they look poisoned! Hold on, I have some salve here, let me put it on you!”

Old Qiu lived next door to my uncle, not far from Old Ox. Maodou was his grandson, and Old Qiu doted on the boy. Old Ox would often play with him himself.

So, was there something wrong with the Maodou I tried to save?

By rights, a reaper has duties to maintain the balance between life and death—it would be unthinkable for him to kill a child without reason. My suspicion seemed correct; if the peddler hadn’t killed “Maodou,” I likely would have died at his hands.

I couldn’t help but sigh, puzzlement rising in me. In the end, the peddler killed the robed Taoist, then “Maodou,” and let me go. Did he actually save my life?

Though he’d left with a threatening parting shot, it didn’t change the fact that he’d spared me. And since he hadn’t come for my grandfather, my view of the peddler began, for the first time, to shift. Perhaps he wasn’t what I’d imagined all along?

Of course, this was only speculation, with no proof for now. The peddler remained a grave threat to my grandfather, and I couldn’t let my guard down.

I kept watch at home for another hour or so; everything remained calm, with no sign of the peddler. I left the talismans with Old Ox and made my way alone to my uncle’s house.

It wasn’t far.

As I arrived, I saw lights burning in the courtyard. Erpang should still be here, keeping vigil—I wasn’t sure if his mother was with him. I went into the yard, intending to tell Erpang the truth about the merit soup, but found him sprawled on his back in the middle of the courtyard. The place was a mess: the paper effigies smashed to bits, my uncle’s funeral bed overturned.

Seeing Erpang lying there sent a jolt of fear through me, and I hurried over to him.

“Erpang!”

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