“Right, right, that's what's important.”
Chen Jingui looked left and right. Seeing no other pilgrims before the main hall, she exhorted:
“When worshipping the gods, one must fulfill one's vows. Sister Ye is still young and has a weak spirit; it wouldn't do if she accidentally offends them, so she and I won't go in.
Lord City God is fond of you, so go set out the offerings and come right out... No, no, you still need to show proper sincerity.
Kowtow a few more times so the gods remember you. Only then will they bless you with safety and smooth sailing in the future.”
“All right, I'll keep that in mind. Hurry along and borrow a bucket.”
Helpless, Nan Zhi gave a feigned agreement. In any case, it was her game character bowing, not herself.
Chen Jingui offered a few more warnings before leading Nan Ye away with lingering worry.
Carrying the basket filled with wine and meat, Nan Zhi entered the main hall, feeling her vision abruptly darken as a buzzing chatter reached her ears.
“Hehehe, a young lady has come.”
“She's carrying meat, too! Smells so good—I can tell it's the marinated goose from the cured meat shop in the east of town!”
“Mmm, there's the aroma of wine—eh? Why does this young lady look familiar!”
“She's the eldest daughter of Nan the Butcher, the one who killed the Painted Skin Ghost!”
“The very Painted Skin Ghost that claimed several lives, the one the Underworld dispatched soul reapers to hunt down?!”
“Shh, shh, shh! She's coming in!”
“What are you afraid of? She's just a mortal; can she actually hear us talking?”
Right in the center of the main hall, the smiling Lord City God sat upon his divine seat, with high cheekbones and kind, benevolent features.
To both sides of the divine seat stood statues of the Day and Night Wandering Gods. The Night Wandering God had blue hair and a greenish face, holding a “Night Patrol” command tally in one hand and an imposing iron pitchfork in the other, with three skull heads hanging from his waist, looking formidable and majestic.
The Day Wandering God bore red hair and crimson eyes, bare-chested with a “Day Patrol” command tally in one hand and a spiked iron club in the other, three little ghosts tied to the red silk around his waist, ferocious and terrifying.
Along both sides of the hall stood red-lacquered offering altars, atop which rested several lotus rebirth lamps inscribed with the names of the deceased.
Beneath the offering tables were painted clay figures of minor ghosts in various shapes and sizes—hanged ghosts, big-bellied ghosts, headless ghosts, blue-faced ghosts, everything one could imagine.
—The ones speaking just now were precisely these clay ghosts.
In other people's eyes, these mud ghosts were mere clay statues, incapable of speaking or seeing.
Yet in Nan Zhi's eyes, these little ghosts were lively as could be, hopping and darting about the temple, frolicking and horsing around.
Seeing her step into the main hall, a horde of mud ghosts swarmed forward, surrounding her and chattering noisily:
“How rare! Someone actually came to worship the City God!”
“Ever since the previous Lord City God got promoted, there hasn't been an enfeoffed god in this temple, and the incense stopped being efficacious, so who would still want to come?”
“I know this young lady! It's the Nan family's silly eldest daughter!”
“I recognize her too! Back when she was still foolish, she ran into the temple to eat the offerings. It was only because Lord City God was kindhearted that he didn't hold it against her!”
“Hehehe, Eldest Sister Nan isn't foolish anymore, yet she came to thank an empty piece of wood with no god residing in it! Hehehe, what a silly eldest sister!”
“Anyway, with all that wine and meat set out, we'll be the ones benefiting in the end. As soon as she leaves, we can eat our fill!”
“Leave some for the old temple keeper! Now that incense offerings are scarce, he still stamps paper money to pay people to sculpt our bodies!”
Nan Zhi feigned ignorance, quietly listening to the mud ghosts chat while bending down to arrange the food and drink from her bamboo basket one by one:
A plate of marinated goose, a plate of pig's head meat, a dish of flaky pastries, and a packet of candied fruits.
Naturally, there was also wine—fine wine bought from a tavern, costing thirty-five wen for half a jin. Normally, Nan Dazhuang couldn't bear to drink it himself.
Taking advantage of the fact that people couldn't see them, the mud ghosts grew bolder and began dancing in circles around her:
“So tempting, so hungry! Ah, I'm dying of impatience, dying of impatience!”
“Such fragrant wine and meat! Eldest Sister Nan, hurry and set them out so we can have a taste!”
A female hanged ghost with a long tongue hesitated, staring intently and waving a hand before Nan Zhi's eyes. “Can she hear and see us?”
“Haha, Wanniang was timid when alive, and now that she's a ghost, why is she still like this, timid as a mouse?”
The fat-headed ghost gave a hearty laugh, patting his large belly. “A mortal body of flesh and blood, how could she possibly see ghosts and gods—”
“If I place them here, you can eat them?”
Nan Zhi set down the plates one by one and suddenly spoke up: “What did you mean earlier when you said there is no enfeoffed god in this City God Temple?”
“Just leaving them here is enough. We ghosts only consume incense and inhale the aroma.”
The Big Bellied Ghost stepped forward impatiently, muttering indistinctly:
“No enfeoffed god means no enfeoffed god. The previous Grandpa City God got promoted, and the new City God hasn't taken office yet. Otherwise, how could that Painted Skin Ghost stir up troub—”
The room fell abruptly dead silent.
Hanged ghost: “...”
Big-headed ghost: “...”
Headless ghost: “...”
Drowned ghost: “...”
Nan Zhi remained standing in place, putting on an exceptionally amiable smile.
“A ghoooost!—”
The hanged ghost erupted in an ear-piercing screech.
The mud ghosts scattered in utter panic, fleeing and hiding wherever they could. Some ducked beneath the offering tables, covering themselves with the red cloth.
Some bolted up the rafters, using the hanged ghost's hair to conceal their traces.
Some plunged headfirst into the ground with half their bodies still wedged outside, leaving only two stubby radish-like legs thrashing continuously in midair.
Even worse, the big-headed ghost clamped his eyes shut and muttered incessantly under his breath:
“Can't see me, can't see me, can't see me...”
A vivid demonstration of burying one's head in the sand.
“I say,”
In front of her screen, Nan Zhi rubbed her ears, feeling as though someone were beating drums inside them:
“Aren't you ghosts? Why are you shouting 'ghost'? In a situation like this, shouldn't I be the one crying out in fear?”
For a good while, not a single ghost answered.
After a long pause, the hanged ghost's mumbled voice drifted down from the rafters: “Then... then should we be shouting 'human'?”
Not that far, really not that far.
Why insult yourselves like that?
Nan Zhi suddenly felt that this bunch of mud ghosts was... actually rather cute.
...
...
A cup of tea's time later, Nan Zhi was sitting cross-legged on the ground. In front of her sat a ring of mud ghosts squeezed shoulder to shoulder, crowding around the wine and meat while inhaling deeply, looking thoroughly blissful.
Watching ghosts eat was truly a first in a lifetime.
The ghosts leaned over the wine and meat, burying their heads to inhale.
Without any apparent exertion on their part, wisps of fine vapor congealed above the meat in the dishes, funneling straight into the mud ghosts' throats.
Between breaths in and out, the food slowly changed color.
The marinated goose turned bland and flavorless, the pig's head meat gave off wafts of rot, and even the pastries and candied fruits were tinged with a moldy greenish hue.
Back in modern times, someone might have even developed a novel kind of mukbang out of this.
A contented grin spread across the big-headed ghost's face. Finally, he patted his belly and asked Nan Zhi the question all the ghosts were burning with curiosity about:
“You can actually see us? Just how did you manage that?”
Rate on N.U.
