COPPER COINS

Chapter 58: Bone Threads (III)

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A long train of horse-drawn carriages trotted along the main road of Qingping County. The men manning the carriage were dressed peculiarly, in a way that was not at all commonly seen in this area. Their robes were wide with large sleeves, and a fierce beast's head was embroidered on the front and back of each robe: this was not abnormal. What was odd was that their robes were entirely white, and billowed gently with the movement of the horses so that the men looked like they were wearing clouds, creating a beautiful mixture between aggression and elegance.
   
If one looked purely at the clothes, it was impossible to tell the ages of the people on horseback. They seemed to have gone through many years of physical training to make their mannerisms restrained and stiff. And as for their faces... each of them wore an odd mask in the shape of a beast's face, and it was impossible to see what they looked like.
   
There were dozens of people in the carriage train, perhaps a hundred. They formed two rows of horses, with a row of three carriages in between, the windows of which were sealed shut. Each carriage bore two flags on its side –– a total of six –– which all depicted the same complex design against an ink-black field. At first, the design was impossible to make out, and it was only under sunlight that contours could begin to emerge: on top of that black field were two large characters intricately calligraphed so as to be reminiscent of curled dragons or twisted snakes –– Taichang, the Minister of Ceremonies. [a]
   
In previous dynasties, the Taichang’s role involved all the ghosts and gods in heaven and on earth, with the task of maintaining overall balance between yin and yang. Within the Taichang Si, [b] the Taichang was assisted by deputy ministers. [c] But ever since the Guoshi had taken over the Taichang Si, the deputies' roles had become greatly limited, and even the Taichang himself had become the Guoshi's lieutenant. And since the Guoshi was extremely old –– no one knew how old he truly was –– he had, in his career, been served by a number of lieutenants.

Not only was it rumored that, every few years, the Guoshi would take in one or two children with innate Buddhist wisdom as disciples, but there was also a rumor that he would choose a number of highly intelligent small boys and girls to be educated within the Taichang Si. Once these boys and girls turned ten years old, they would officially become Zhenzi, [d] with the job of facilitating and executing rituals. Zhenzi could not be older than sixteen years old. Once they exceeded sixteen, a number of them would be transferred to other roles within the Taichang Si.

This meant that, particularly within the last two generations, the entirety of the Taichang Si –– from the Taichang himself and his Deputy Ministers, to the Taizhu and Taibu [e] and right down to the Zhenzi and more –– were all intimately close to the Guoshi. The origins of these officials were unknown. It was suspected that they were all his disciples.
   
As the Taichang Si’s carriage train reached a fork in the road, they split into two groups, with two dozen men diverting into Qingping Xian Cheng along with one of the carriages: this was the team that had been ordered to exorcise the plague. The second group, consisting of around a hundred and twenty people, took a winding mountain road. The two riders at the front of this group wore gleaming, shiny copper coin pendants on their hips, and also carried tasselled jade tiles.
   
The carvings on the jade tiles were different for each of the two riders: the one on the left had a tortoise, on which stood a bird with long plumes. Both animals were parenthesised between two curled characters –– Taibu. And the right hand side person’s tile had the long face of a beast, above whose head hung a small eight-sided bell. Those carvings were also parenthesised by two characters –– Taizhu.

The Taibu and Taizhu both worked within the Taichang Si. The Taibu was responsible for divination and navigating yin and yang, while the Taizhu performed sacrifices and rituals.
   
As the carriage train exited the mountain path, the leading rider carrying the Taibu tile made a hand gesture, and the entire train obediently came to a stop.
The Taizhu turned to face him, eyes full of puzzlement gleaming from behind the mask, and asked, "What is it?"
The tone was profound and serious, but the voice itself was rather young: the Taizhu sounded like a young man only a little over twenty years of age.
"Let me confirm the direction again," the Taibu said. This voice was that of a woman, equally young, and contained some nimbleness within that outer layer of warmth and brightness.
As she spoke, the Taibu took off the beast mask that she wore, revealing a pleasant face. Her appearance made her look even younger than her voice suggested, perhaps only seventeen or eighteen. Thankfully, she had elegant brows and a pair of eyes as deep as lakes, which helped to ground her aura and make her seem calm and stable.
   
The position of Taibu was a unique one: whether one was practicing divination or interpreting dreams, it all had to do with innate talent. To become a Taibu, one only had to be a highly skilled and fortunate person –– it did not matter whether one was male or female. Because women happened to be more sensitive to spirituality, recent generations of Taibu had included a number of women.
   
The Taizhu nodded in agreement and said, "True. After all, this is about great disasters. If we get it wrong, we'll surely be punished when we return to the capital." As he spoke, he anxiously pointed his finger upwards and added, "That person won't be happy."
   
The Taibu glanced at him, then peered up at the layers of clouds in the sky. "The Guoshi has always been just and fair. His punishments are insightful and never arbitrary. We do not have to worry about whether he is happy or not. Besides, we won't be able to see him at all when we return. You're overthinking it..."

“Hey, lady, [f] I was just saying. Can you stop being so serious?" the Taizhu snapped.
"I cannot."
The Taibu spoke nonchalantly while simultaneously reaching into her pocket. She extracted a grass knot, a tortoise shell, and a bamboo-scented sheet of paper. She carefully unfolded the paper, on which the first few rows of writing were dry and faint –– they had clearly been written some time ago. There were very few words, and the content was straightforward and direct. In place of the sender’s signature, [g] there was a red stamp with two simple characters: Tongdeng.
   
The Taibu confirmed the location written on the paper, then carefully folded it back up again. Next, she arranged the grass knot and the tortoise shell in her palm and said, "Be discreet in word and deed, and especially do not speak ill of the Guoshi in my presence. Or else I may become angry."
The Taizhu shook his head, exasperated. "There you go accusing me of all kinds of nonsense again. I would never dare to speak ill."
   
Although it was commonly known that the officials within the Taichang Si were of mysterious origins, there were still some distinctions.
Take as example these two riders at the front –– ten years ago, they had both been recruited by the Guoshi to be educated at the Taichang. They had slowly grown up and climbed the ranks from Zhenzi to Changshi [h] to their positions today. Although the two of them had almost the same experiences and were of the same age, the Taizhu feared the Guoshi more than he respected him –– and the Taibu respected the Guoshi more than she feared him... Far more.
   
The Taibu focused on her divination and ignored the Taizhu.
After some time, the Taibu glanced at the grass knot in her hand then looked at the horizon. "Yi," she muttered.
"Yi what? Are we lost?" the Taizhu demanded.
   
The Taibu gently furrowed her elegant brows and fell deep in thought. Finally, she muttered, "I divined... But it shouldn't be."
"You're [i] always speaking in bits and pieces. Say it properly. What did you divine?" The Taizhu followed her gaze and looked at the horizon too, but apart from dark clouds, he saw nothing. Then he stared at the grass knot in her hand, and apart from the fact that the knot looked rather worn, he saw nothing peculiar, either.
"Nothing. I just divined that someone is in Qingping County who really shouldn't be. But it's impossible..." the Taibu explained, then shook her head. "Never mind. In any case, it was only an approximation. I must be mistaken. But we have serious matters to deal with. I've confirmed the location: we keep going down this path toward the southwest."
"Where do we rest tonight?"
The Taibu glanced at the Taizhu again and said, "See that mountain that looks like a dustpan? That's where we're headed."
The Taizhu raised his fist to send a signal to the rest of the train and kicked his stirrups. "Let's go."

Meanwhile, in the Fang family compound, the group was discussing something entirely different...
Their discussion had been provoked by Jiang Shining going in to treat the three plague-ridden beggars. As he saw that their fevers were receding, he also noticed that one of the child beggars who looked like a skinny monkey was actually a little girl.
   
"Now this is unfortunate..." Jiang Shining raised his hand to gesture at the left side of his face and said, "The other two's rashes all stop at their necks, but that little girl has a huge patch on her face. The rashes don't just bleed –– they're going to get gangrenous. We have to clean away the already rotten flesh, and when she recovers, that girl's [i] face..."
   
The group already knew about the disgusting rashes, and had seen how frail the little girl looked. Naturally, they could imagine the immense scar that would ravage the girl's face after she healed –– half her face would be ruined. The child was still so young. If her appearance was ruined now, her future wouldn’t look good.
   
Fussing really ran in the Jiang family. Although the beggar was a complete stranger, Jiang Shijing became extremely worried for this little girl. [i]

Xue Xian had happened to be passing by in his wheelchair, but, upon hearing Jiang Shining's words, he stopped.
The only thing that determined whether Xue Xian was interested in doing something was his mood. Chen-sao was a real talent, and the feast that she'd laid out for him that morning had been excellent. Once he’d eaten his fill, Xue Xian was in a good mood. He could even forget some of the things that were burdening him, to the point where he hadn’t even noticed when Xuanmin had left their room and begun walking towards the group.
   
Xue Xian hated to eat and drink for free, but to give the Fangs golden pearls would be to treat the Fang home as an inn. Just as he'd been pondering how to repay his debt to the Fangs, he'd heard Jiang Shijing fret, and had had an idea.
"I have a solution for the little girl's [i] face," Xue Xian said casually.
Stunned, Jiang Shijing and the others turned to him. "What solution?"
   
If Xue Xian could make a paper body for Jiang Shining’s immaterial soul, then of course he could help make a new prosthetic for the little girl's face. [i] However...
"I can't just create flesh out of nowhere. There needs to be some form of exchange with another material object," Xue Xian explained.

Jiang Shijing was not stupid, and Jiang Shining had experienced it all before so could offer advice. The group quickly debated the issue: "Some form of exchange... to go on someone's face... Hey! How about a mask?"
Stone Zhang, who was still eating his breakfast, eagerly raised his hand. "I can help! I can carve her a beautiful, extravagant mask!"
   
Oh, fuck off!
Xue Xian glared at Stone Zhang. "Not even eating will shut you up, it seems. Have you ever seen someone with a face carved full of designs?"
Silently, Stone Zhang went back to eating.
   
"I mean yirong masks," [j] Jiang Shining explained, chuckling. "The kind that you can use to entirely replace your face. But a mask is still just a mask, so we still need you for the final step..."
He glanced at Xue Xian.
Xue Xian nodded. "That's also what I mean."
   
"But..." Jiang Shijing asked awkwardly. "Who could make one?"
Stone Zhang hurriedly put his bowl back down again. "I can."
"Really? But aren't you a stonemason?" Xue Xian asked skeptically.
"Many such skills are transferable," Stone Zhang said, waving a hand. "I've seen others make them before. Plus, I'm extremely nimble-fingered. I'm sure I can make an adequate one."
   
It was rather creepy to see a stout, balding little man speak of his own nimble fingers so proudly. [k] But indeed, no one else at the table was as nimble as he, and none had observed the making of a yirong mask. So the task fell to him.

Stone Zhang did not delay: he immediately listed the materials that he needed, and then went to thoroughly wash his hands.
In the meantime, the others did not sit by idly either. Ever since he'd woken up in the morning, Lu Nianqi had tucked himself away in a corner of the courtyard, holding the black cloth that had been used to blindfold Stone Zhang in one hand and using the bundle of sticks in his other hand to trace markings across the floor. After he finished his spell, he would study the markings and then wipe it away and start over...
   
Stone Zhang had not asked for a lot of materials, and fortunately Fang Cheng's compound was full of raw materials, especially those relating to medicine. Everything except for the most unique ingredient was gathered and prepared quickly.
"What else do we need?" Jiang Shijing asked.
Stone Zhang cleared his throat and mumbled, "X glue."
"What glue?" Xue Xian suddenly turned around.
With a face full of resignation, Stone Zhang glumly repeated, "Dragon glue."
“...” Xue Xian asked, "What in the world is dragon glue? I’ve never heard of it."
   
"It's glue made out of dragon skin." Stone Zhang felt that he was signing his death seal with those words. He wished he could slap his own mouth off. You volunteered for a task, and look at you now. You're getting yourself killed.
Xue Xian's expression turned dark. "What the fuck? Who is making glue out of dragon skin? Drag him out there and show him to me!"
"It's not... that's... that's just what it's called," Stone Zhang quickly explained. "You know how whenever there's some strange new item, people come up with mysterious, powerful names for it. They like to name things after dragons but it usually has nothing to do with them. That glue comes from western merchants. It’s made of animal skin..."
   
But Xue Xian was still furious. He hated hearing about dragon skin, dragon bones, and other such things. He slapped the table and shouted, "Why do you need some mysterious glue? Go get some pig skin and make your own!"
"Alrighty," Stone Zhang said. He did not object to the zuzong’s orders.
   
Just as Xue Xian finished roaring with rage, he turned to see Xuanmin behind him. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and then Xue Xian swiftly wheeled his chair away, making his escape as quickly as he could.
Xuanmin: “...”
   
Actually, pig glue was perfectly adequate –– they just needed to be careful about taking it out of the boiling pot, as doing so too early or too late would ruin it.
Stone Zhang, having stood guard by the pot for some time, decided that it had been long enough. Just as he made to turn off the heat, a hand shot out to stop him.

He only needed to see that snow-white sleeve to know who it was. He filled his voice with respect and deferentially said, "Dashi."
Xuanmin did not waste his words. He glanced at the pot and said, "Let it boil a bit longer."
   
Stone Zhang was stunned. "Dashi, you know how to make these masks too?"
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