How many times in dreams have I shared the same soul with you?
The storage room was about ten square meters, containing a bunk bed. Qiangzi moved out all the piled-up items, laid down a mattress, and considered it cleaned. Having spent these days exposed to the elements—even sleeping on park benches and in trees—Tao Tao naturally didn’t mind the simple conditions. She set down her things and thanked him.
Luo Hou signaled for Qiangzi to leave, then spread out the bedding and opened the window for ventilation.
The window faced the street, offering a view of the bustling cityscape outside.
Luo Hou lit a cigarette. “The kids downstairs are all quite young. The youngest just turned fourteen two days ago. Their talents aren’t particularly outstanding; some might never manage to condense spiritual veins in their entire lives. Yet, they possess more spiritual energy than ordinary people. In an era overrun by evil spirits, that alone is enough to bring them catastrophic disaster.”
“So you protect them?”
“Not me—Chaotic Tomb.” Luo Hou blew a smoke ring out the window. “Li Hegu has served as Bell Ringer for eighty years. In his lifetime, he has exorcised countless evil spirits and saved countless lives. He is a figure of faith in the hearts of all Spirit Masters. The kids respect you because of him too. They’re all from good families, forced by circumstances to work here giving foot massages. You shouldn’t look down on them.”
“I won’t,” Tao Tao said.
“Right, you were raised by Li Sanjiu. Your temperament probably isn’t too bad. I was overthinking it.”
“Luo Hou, why do you stay at Chaotic Tomb?” Tao Tao suddenly asked. “Once a Spirit Master condenses spiritual veins, they can freely control the release and absorption of Spiritual Power, never again becoming easy prey for evil spirits. You’ve already condensed Three-Branch Spirit Veins before turning thirty. Someone like you could live much better if you worked at the Special Investigation Bureau. Why stay here?”
Luo Hou gazed out the window, lost in thought. “What do you see?”
Tao Tao stood beside him, following his gaze. The LED lights on the skyscrapers flickered incessantly. Above, the stars and moon shone brightly, their radiance flowing and shifting. Below, steam rose lazily from the night market stalls, pedestrians strolled leisurely along the sidewalks, street lamps glowed brilliantly, and the warm lights of countless households painted a cozy scene.
Someone had tied a wind chime to the window frame. The night breeze brushed past, swaying it and producing a crisp, clear sound.
“The city lights,” Tao Tao mused. “So beautiful.”
Luo Hou smiled. “Stars never fade, the moon never wanes—only the lights of the mortal world grow dim. It is beautiful, but often, beautiful things are especially fragile and need someone to protect them.”
“Sipping tea and reading newspapers in the Special Investigation Bureau’s office sounds nice, but I’m used to freedom and can’t live that kind of life.” Luo Hou stubbed out his cigarette on the windowsill. “But you have a point. The foot massage parlor is exhausting work with little pay. Someone with my talents really should seek better opportunities. Once things settle down a bit, I’ll seriously consider it.”
His lean figure stood as steady as a mountain. “Get some rest, young lady. I won’t disturb you any longer. The weather forecast says rain tonight. Remember to close the window when you sleep, and be careful not to catch a cold.”
After Luo Hou left, Tao Tao collapsed onto the mattress. Now that she was in a safe place, exhaustion washed over her like a tide.
Just as she was drifting into drowsiness, the window suddenly rattled.
Tao Tao got up to check. A canary was hopping around on the outside windowsill.
“Fugui?” She opened the window, and the little bird flew inside. After circling in the air once, it landed on Tao Tao’s shoulder.
Tao Tao stroked its feathers: “I didn’t see you when I returned to the Daoist Temple last time, thought you had flown away. How did you find me?”
The canary glared at her with human-like understanding, rubbing its fluffy head against her palm.
Tao Tao made a nest for it with a pillow towel and left the window open, afraid it might need to go out foraging at dawn.
Strictly speaking, Fugui was not a canary—it merely resembled one. It was a species unrecorded in any bird encyclopedia and had made its home at the Daoist Temple since Tao Tao was very young. Li Sanjiu named it Fugui, but it was not particularly fond of him. Aside from Tao Tao, it never listened to anyone.
Fugui rested in the pillow towel nest while Tao Tao lay on the bed, staring at the damp, moldy ceiling until she fell asleep at some point.
…
Tao Tao dreamed again.
In the dream, an immense fog enveloped everything, so thick she could not see her own fingers. She stood at the center of the mist, unable to find her way out no matter which direction she turned.
Countless withered hands reached out from the fog, gripping her limbs and immobilizing her. As she gazed ahead, the mist gradually thinned.
A man in a black robe emerged from the fog. He stood before her, quietly watching her as if peering into a fragile, beautiful dream.
Tao Tao looked back at him.
She knew it was inappropriate to describe a man as “beautiful.” From childhood, her master had taught her when learning characters that “beautiful” was mostly used for women, while “handsome” was for men. Yet Tao Tao felt that “handsome” was far from enough to capture the awe this man’s presence inspired in her.
He was not flamboyant or effeminate, yet he possessed a distinctive charm she had never seen in anyone else. To describe it, only the slender white moon in the sky after the desert’s lonely smoke had dissipated, the morning glow winding through the clouds atop mountain peaks at sunrise, or the undimmed brilliance of the North Star in the torrent of time could compare.
“Tao Tao.” He reached out to her, his voice as gentle as the moon in the sky. “How many times in dreams have I been with you?”
…
Tao Tao woke with a start. The wind chime on the window kept ringing. She turned to look and saw the canary perched on the windowsill, holding a peach branch it had obtained from somewhere. It flew in through the window, the branch hitting the wind chime and causing it to ring incessantly.
Tao Tao got up and pressed the wind chime to silence it, restoring the night to stillness.
She went out to wash her face, barely calming herself from the dream. When she returned to the room, she carried a soda can filled with water.
She placed the peach branch in it to grow, stroking Fugui’s head. “This isn’t home. Don’t bring things back randomly next time—the owner might mind.”
The canary hopped around her curiously. Tao Tao pushed the water-filled can toward it. “You take care of it. Maybe it will bloom next year.”
A cool breeze blew through the window. Remembering Luo Hou’s warning of rain tonight, Tao Tao wiped her hands and prepared to close the window.
But the moment she turned around, her vision was filled with overwhelming darkness.
The bed was black, the walls were black, the wind chime on the window was black. The city lights had extinguished, and the nightscape was dyed into an abyssal black.
Against the dark night outside the window, a blood-red moon rose. Silhouetted against it, a man in a black robe sat crouched on the windowsill.
In the darkness, the man slowly raised his head, revealing the face beneath his hood—identical to the one she had seen in her dream.
The darkness spread, almost tearing the small room apart. Amid the deep shadows, only the faint, fading red glow on the mole at the corner of the man’s eyebrow could be glimpsed.
Tao Tao reached behind her back and grasped Tao Yao.
The moment she made her move, the man vanished abruptly. Tao Tao swung her sword fiercely, but only managed to slice through a wisp of icy mist.
The next second, the vanished man appeared right in front of Tao Tao.
He leaned in close, his nose tracing a path from the hollow of her neck upward. After lightly sniffing the scent in her hair, he paused by her ear.
His voice was hoarse, his breath cold as ice, dangerous like a magnificent flower blooming in the dark of night: “The Evil God’s bride?”
Under Tao Tao’s indifferent gaze, the man knelt on one knee, the wide hem of his robe spreading like scattered black waves. He elegantly lifted Tao Tao’s left hand to his lips.
In the man’s eyes swirled a deep, bottomless abyss. He lowered his head and gently kissed her fingertips: “I’ve kept you waiting.”
…
Qingfengguan was built atop Mount Qu. The history of this ancient Daoist temple was already lost to time. All that was known was that the row of ginkgo trees planted in the front courtyard was over a hundred years old. Every late autumn, the withered leaves falling from the branches would blanket the courtyard’s blue bricks in a brilliant gold. The trees grew tall and dense, their shade even covering the dark tile eaves of the main hall with a golden carpet.
Tao Tao had lived at Qingfengguan for as long as she could remember. Her master forbade her from leaving the mountain. Staying here was both to protect others and to protect herself.
Aside from Qingfengguan, there were few places that had enshrined the Three Pure Ones for a century. Within this small temple, she was relatively safe.
Tao Tao loved rainy days. Whenever it rained, she would lean against the windowsill of her bedroom in the rear courtyard, watching the mountain scenery gradually fade into the misty rain.
Not far from the base of the wall grew a tall persimmon tree. In late autumn, its branches would be laden with overripe fruit, looking from a distance like clusters of orange-yellow lanterns.
Li Sanjiu would use a bamboo pole to knock down persimmons under the tree in the early morning, while Tao Tao and her junior brother would carry bamboo baskets to gather them. The damaged fruit they kept to eat, while the good ones her junior brother would carry down the mountain to sell.
No matter how much money he made, when he returned in the evening, he would always bring Tao Tao a packet of fragrant melon seeds and a weekly comic book.
Mountain life had its merits—it was indeed a quiet and leisurely place. But when such tranquility lasted too long, it inevitably became a bit boring.
Tao Tao was accustomed to the serene sounds of insects chirping, birds singing, and dogs barking. She preferred the occasional sound of rain pattering on banana leaves and the blue tiles of the eaves—a gentle, continuous patter that made the world seem suddenly noisy.
She imagined herself in the bustling market at the foot of the mountain: vegetable sellers, duck butchers, tofu makers using brine, people coming and going, chatting and laughing.
At that moment, Li Sanjiu was wearing a raincoat under the persimmon tree, picking up the cracked fruit knocked down by the rain, while her junior brother was inside doing woodwork.
Tao Tao leaned against the window, watching the rain, with a small dish of shelled melon seeds beside her.
“Tao Tao, what are you thinking about?” Her junior brother placed a carved figurine head in front of her. The girl’s expression on the peach wood was vacant, just like her own at that moment.
“Mind your manners. Call me senior sister.” Tao Tao patted her junior brother’s head. Although he was older than her, she always insisted on being the senior sister, acting like a precocious little adult.
“I’m thinking about the Evil God.” Tao Tao’s gaze pierced through the curtain of rain outside the window, falling into the distant mountains shrouded in clouds and mist, their shapes indistinct. “What do you think the Evil God looks like? Eight legs and four eyes, taller than Mount Tai when standing, able to blot out the sun and moon with a wave of his hand? Or like in horror movies, with dripping blood from his hair and a long, dangling tongue?”
Junior brother: “I don’t know. Will you go with him?”
Tao Tao rested her chin in her hand and said listlessly, “If he’s good-looking, I might consider it.”
Her junior brother continued with his woodworking. After planing wood shavings for a while, he suddenly spoke up, “Master said that most ghosts take on the appearance they had at the moment of death. If he was a hanged ghost, he’d likely have a long tongue. If he died from jumping off a building, a car accident, or some other way, he might not even have a complete face.”
“Knowing that, would you still want to go with him?”
Tao Tao fell silent. Her junior brother knew she wasn’t frightened by his description—
She was staring intently at the rain outside the window, lost in thoughts no one else could fathom. So he lowered his head again and continued sanding the wood in his hands.
After a while, her voice drifted lazily, “As long as it’s him, I’d consider it.”
…
Now, the man before her didn’t have the terrifying appearance she had imagined.
On the contrary, he had a pair of exceptionally beautiful peach blossom eyes. When he smiled, his eyes curved slightly, the corners tinged with a faint red, exuding a hazy, almost intoxicated allure.
She murmured in a daze, “Who are you, really?”
The man’s smile was as captivating as a rose or a brocade, but he said nothing more.
…
The knocking at the door persisted. Tao Tao woke with a splitting headache, only to realize she had just experienced a double-layered dream.
This wasn’t the first time she had dreamed of that man. Each time left a deep impression, but who was he, really?
Tao Tao got up and opened the door.
Outside was Luo Hou, who had been knocking for a while and was growing impatient. “Young Mistress, you fell asleep after I left for just half an hour?”
“What’s the matter?”
Tao Tao stepped aside to let him in, but Luo Hou didn’t enter. “A newcomer just reported in. He’s a Spirit Master transferred from another district to Jiangnan. The remaining bed upstairs is in the women’s dormitory, so it’s not convenient for him to stay there. Since you have an extra bed here, let him stay with you for now.”
Tao Tao replied indifferently, “Do I not look like a woman to you?”
Luo Hou said, “At least you’re an adult.”
“Luo Hou, aren’t you afraid the young master will throw you into the Yangtze River to feed the fish?”
“If you don’t tell him, he won’t know.”
Tao Tao said, “Whenever I sleep, I have nightmares. What if I sleepwalk in the middle of the night and end up hitting someone…”
“It’s fine, I don’t mind.”
A familiar voice came from outside the door, leaving Tao Tao speechless on the spot.
Lin Quan stepped out from behind Luo Hou. “What a coincidence, Tao Tao. Who would’ve thought my roommate would be you?”