The moon hung high in the midnight sky, and the acrid smoke from the food stalls on the snack street finally began to dissipate. After several rounds of drinks, empty bottles lay scattered about, the shouts and rowdy guessing games had quieted down, and only the steady glow of the neon lights remained.
The lights in the office building had all gone out. Gazing across from the floor-to-ceiling windows of the high-rise, only a few sporadic windows in the mid-section hotel apartments still reflected pale light. A man in casual clothes dangled a glass bottle of Wusu beer from one hand and gnawed on lamb skewers with the other. He tilted his head to clamp the phone between his shoulder and ear, managing everything with a busy but composed air.
The voice on the phone was deep and distorted by a voice changer. “I only told you to release the fake map from Xieling. Why did you go off-script and forge a Human Skin Map on your own?”
The man chewed a few bites of lamb and flashed a cheeky grin as he apologized. “Aw, boss, you know how tough it is to infiltrate the Rat-Walkers’ turf. I tried everything to get in—why not go big? Besides, the Long Family’s map only comes in one flavor: the Human Skin Map. Those old codgers from Xieling show up with a rubbing of a Cowhide Map to test the waters? That’s just treating these greenhorns like idiots.”
“Throwing fake stones to make a splash—what big fish do you expect to hook? You tell me.”
The low electronic voice let out a mocking snort. “You think these folks got old and turned stupid? Every one of those figures on the fifth floor had a name in the jianghu back in the day—legends who stirred up storms. They say the undying spirit is what makes a demon. If you want to pull tricks in front of old demons like them, you’d better know your own weight.”
“If you get yourself trapped, I won’t come to your rescue.”
The man shoved the spent skewer back into the plastic bag and took two big gulps of beer. “Burp—I get it, I get it. We’re partners here. Even if one of us is out, the plan keeps rolling.”
His eyes darted slyly, and he grinned again. “But I figure, since you’re calling me now, my plan must be running nice and smooth, right?”
“Hmph.” The electronic voice fell silent for two seconds amid bursts of static interference. “The Xieling Chief’s status these days isn’t what it used to be. A mere copy of the Cowhide Map wasn’t enough to sway those old timers—you were right about that. Putting out the authentic Human Skin Map was the right call. Now the water in this pool is truly muddied.”
“Hey, no need to praise me—really, don’t. I’ve got thin skin; I can’t handle it.” He dragged over an office chair, its wheels rattling noisily, then sprawled into it with a creak, propping his legs up as he eyed the building across the way. “Without the genuine Human Skin Map you provided, where the hell was I supposed to forge one? These are sharp-eyed experts calling the shots—there’s only one shot at this. Even I’m not reckless enough to fake it without the real deal.”
“The old ones have their strengths. Even if they slip up on the appraisal, they won’t admit it. The Rat-Walkers are the ones in for it this time—getting smashed right in their own den. From the sounds of things on your end, they’ve already mobilized in a frenzy, haven’t they?”
“Yeah, everything’s proceeding according to plan. One more thing: keep that woman you brought in line. Don’t let her cause any slip-ups.”
“Heh, don’t worry about that.” The man drained the last of his beer and suddenly sneered. “A woman who’s clawed her way back from the gates of hell? She’s worth a thousand men.”
“Now that’s a real sharp blade.”
~~~
The late-night snack gathering had started with high spirits and ended in disappointment. In the end, the three of them sat in the car, the only sound the rush of wind. Ye Chan, the usual chatterbox, sat with her lips pursed, looking so aggrieved she seemed about to burst with bottled fury.
This time, Long Li had taken the right route, dropping her off first. She stayed remarkably calm, offering no reaction to Ye Chan’s pitiful expression beyond a simple instruction: “Head straight home and don’t wander off.” With that, she hit the gas and drove away.
Gu Xianwang watched her rapidly shrinking figure in the rearview mirror, a lonely silhouette amid the autumn hues, like a child abandoned by her parents on the roadside.
From the looks of it, anything more she might say would be pointless.
The late-night streets of Five Avenues were deathly quiet. Long Li pulled over to the curb without killing the engine or unlocking the doors.
For thirty seconds after parking, the two women in the car neither spoke nor asked questions, the silence thick and tense. Then the gear shifted back to park with a click, the doors unlocked, and Gu Xianwang glanced at the music player still showing as active—though no sound came from it now; she had no idea when Long Li had muted it.
She opened the door and stepped out, one hand on the frame. Her final words were: “Drive safe.”
With that, she slammed the door shut and walked away without a backward glance.
She wasn’t good at getting close to people, but she was utterly accustomed to parting from them. As a little girl, she had tried to cling to those warm, glowing things—a phrase, an object, or a connection with someone—hoping to encounter them again someday. It was that very expectation that made every loss and farewell feel like being ripped apart. She no longer wanted to be that solitary strip of tape, clinging desperately to nothing.
Better to let go with grace.
“Xianwang.”
She had taken twenty-seven steps when Long Li finally called out to her.
Gu Xianwang halted but didn’t turn around. She listened as Long Li continued, “Will you walk with me a little longer?”
They said every autumn rain brought a chill, and after that stormy night, the late summer evenings had turned cool. A few scattered leaves drifted down, one skittering right to her feet. As Gu Xianwang turned, the sole of her shoe scraped over the leaf’s veins, making a faint rustling sound.
She had a thousand ways to refuse, soft and sharp alike, but in the end, she picked the simplest one from the corner of her mind: “Sure.”
Long Li caught up in a few quick strides. “Are you angry?”
It was phrased as a question, stated like a fact, with an expression that pretended ignorance even as her eyes burned with sincerity.
“Yes.” Gu Xianwang didn’t mince words. “Shouldn’t I be?”
If Long Li hadn’t asked, the night would have ended with everything brushed under the rug, unspoken and unresolved. She wouldn’t have exploded like a firecracker at the slightest spark. “You call us friends, but I didn’t realize friends could be summoned at will and dismissed just as easily. Of course—you’re clever, skilled in a fight, knowledgeable about everything, able to chat with anyone. No wonder you have friends everywhere under heaven. I misjudged your definition of friendship. I’m angry at myself.”
“You have your broad Yangguan Path, and I have my narrow log bridge. When fate brings us together, we share a drink; when it ends, we go our separate ways,” she said, looking down as she let out a cold huff. “You’re right—we’re not traveling the same road. You’re a mystery to me at every turn, while I’m as transparent as glass to you. True friends should be equals, but I’ve been stuck here in Guizhou for days, unable to move.”
“If you hadn’t shown up, I wouldn’t have had a clue whether you were dead or alive.”
As Gu Xianwang spoke, it was as if she’d talked herself around. Her anger settled, softening into a layer of bitterness. She stared at the textured bricks of the tactile paving, relying on them to guide her direction. “You have the right to choose your path, and so do I. I don’t know how deeply connected the Witch Clan Altar is to what I’m searching for, but I won’t give up. Thank you for everything in Guizhou—”
Long Li lagged a few steps behind, following quietly, before interrupting. “I don’t have many friends.”
“My definition of friendship isn’t so different from yours.”
She quickened her pace along the adjacent strip of tactile paving to catch up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t contact you sooner because I was worried about the company’s surveillance.”
Gu Xianwang froze. “What surveillance?”
Long Li sighed. “Ye Chan was right. The organization you saw operates in the shadows. Everyone in it treads the Gray Path. Xianwang, I’m only cooperating with them, but I’m still under their constraints.”
Suddenly, Gu Xianwang recalled what her master had once said. Of course—they dealt in deadly business. Who would tie their own life to an outsider’s?
“Are you… going to keep working for them forever?”
Long Li shook her head. “No, but I need more time. Until then, I can’t boldly claim to be trustworthy.”
Gu Xianwang slowed her steps. “You said you’re looking for the Nüwa Cocoon. What exactly is it? Did you find it at the Witch Clan Altar?”
“To be honest, I don’t even know what the Nüwa Cocoon is.” Long Li gave a wry smile. “My memories are like a scrapbook full of blank spaces—everything’s fragmented. These strange terms drop into my nightmares, and no matter how much ancient texts I scour, most of them elude me. So I search high and low across the land.”
“If I encounter it, I’ll know it when I see it.”
Gu Xianwang frowned slightly. At this rate, it would take forever to find it.
“But—” She exhaled, grasping for something solid, and mustered what conviction she could. “Maybe I can help you look.”
“Ye Chan and I walk the White Path. Your organization can’t touch us. And that cocoon in the altar—I thought it looked a bit like what you described. Maybe you found it but didn’t have time to confirm.”
“Since the Nüwa Cocoon isn’t in any books, it might be something from another race. I glanced at the inscriptions on the stone platform before. It’s used for ritual artifacts, so it must hold important information. If we find someone to translate it, we could uncover more clues.”
Long Li couldn’t help laughing. “You want to walk down two paths at once? How could you possibly keep up?”
Still in the mood for jokes? Gu Xianwang shot her a glance. “It’s mutual benefit. Can’t you help me look into it too?”
“Oh?”
“Have you ever heard… of the Forbidden Witch Bone?”
The question felt a little impulsive as soon as she asked it. To her, those three words were taboo. Apart from that one anonymous post, she hadn’t even breathed them to Master or Nanny Chen—only saying it was some evil curse possibly tied to the Forbidden Witch.
She had first overheard the term as a child, eavesdropping on adult conversations. The curse on her body was called the Forbidden Witch Bone, a vicious thing that harmed both its bearer and those around them.
Debt-collecting ghost. Star of misfortune. Poison jar. Rotten-faced hag. Unwanted filth. All were its labels.
Long Li’s expression remained calm. She pondered for only a moment before shaking her head. “I know of the Forbidden Witch, but I’ve never heard of any Forbidden Witch Bone.”
It was just as Gu Xianwang had expected—in fact, she felt a quiet wave of relief. “I don’t know much myself. Only that it’s an evil curse that brings calamity to those close to you. I want to find a way to break it.”
“Evil curse?” Long Li gave a faint, almost amused smile, her tone patient. “Silly girl, I’ve traveled to many places and encountered my share of strange, supernatural things. But I don’t buy into talk of curses or spoken spells. Everything in this world—witch gu, head-drop curses, Buddhist rites, Confucian arts, Daoist methods—is as real and tangible as the ruins of Yelang and the Witch Clan you’ve seen. You can see it, touch it.”
“If this Forbidden Witch Bone is an evil curse like you say, what does it do? What are its signs?”
Gu Xianwang’s cheeks burned. She ducked her head. “You don’t believe me? You’ve seen the signs yourself. In the Sinkhole, every Gu Worm that touched my blood died. And every time, those Gu Worms went for me first. Plus… there’s a scent on me. A… scent.”
Her voice dropped to a near-whisper on those final words.
Long Li gazed at her flushed earlobes, her own eyes darkening almost imperceptibly before she schooled her expression back to normal. “Is that so? That’s certainly unusual.”
“But the scent you’re talking about? Apart from your body wash and shampoo, I haven’t noticed anything.”
Gu Xianwang pressed her lips together. She was right about that. No one around her had ever smelled it before—except herself. It was only after she’d tearfully insisted that Mommy didn’t believe her that Gu Mama had relented and admitted to catching that fragrance.
Reading her expression, Long Li softened her voice. “It’s not that I don’t believe you. It’s just… the curse is supposedly on you, yet you’re fine. Meanwhile, the people close to you are the ones fighting for their lives. That doesn’t add up. So I’m guessing there’s more to the Forbidden Witch Bone—some piece of information we’re missing.”
“I’ll look into it as quickly as I can. But until then, can you please focus on healing your body first? Before you go playing detective?”
Long Li’s gaze drifted to the bandage on her arm. Gu Xianwang hunched her shoulders and muttered, “…I’ll try.”
Every road has an end. After a few twists and turns, they emerged back onto the main path. Gu Xianwang glanced at the signpost, reflecting that Long Li must have kept her distance earlier not just because of the Rat-Walkers’ car, but probably to avoid being seen too. She said, “Then we’ll both keep digging.”
She held back the rest and simply took her leave. “I need to head back.”
Long Li stepped forward quickly, hastening to make amends. “Xianwang, I didn’t mean we should go our separate ways. I was just clumsy with my words—don’t be angry.”
“Let’s stay in touch by phone, okay?”
