Chapter Seven: Hints

Ren Tai'an told us about his son Ren Bo’s misfortune at the Antique Market. After listening, Lord Jun slapped his thigh and exclaimed, “Ah, if you’d told me earlier, I would have taken care of him! Your son and that swindler came to my place once. I didn’t know what was going on and didn’t pay much attention. The fellow was so full of himself that I ignored him.”

Ren Tai'an sighed. “Thanks to this, my reputation is in ruins, lawsuits are piling up, and I’m drowning in debt.”

I heaved a sigh as well. “Brother Ren, you don’t have to worry too much. The police are hunting for this Wu Yue everywhere, aren’t they?”

Ren Tai'an nodded. “I’m just afraid my son will be implicated as an accomplice. That’s why I’m running around pulling strings and calling in favors.”

Lord Jun nodded. “Don’t worry, it won’t happen. You’re victims here too.”

We chatted with Ren Tai'an for a while. I sipped my tea and got to the point. “Brother Ren, I brought Lord Jun here today to ask a favor.”

Ren Tai'an was taken aback, glancing at Lord Jun and me. “What, people like you and Lord Jun have something to ask of an outsider like me?”

Lord Jun waved his hand and nodded. “Don’t be modest, Ren. We wouldn’t come uninvited. You know what I do, and though we aren’t close, everyone in the business knows your expertise in ancient script. We’ve come across a rare piece; it has something unusual about it and we need your insight.” With that, he took the rosewood box containing the gold mask from Xiao Xie, who was sitting beside him.

Ren Tai'an sighed. “Lord Jun, you see my situation. Maybe tomorrow the police will haul me and my son away for a few years—how could I have the time to help you decipher anything?”

Though he spoke thus, his hands weren’t idle. He took the rosewood box, opened it, and upon seeing the gold mask inside, he froze, looking at me in astonishment, then at Lord Jun.

Lord Jun smiled. “What is it, Ren?”

Ren Tai'an’s face grew grave. He picked up his tortoiseshell glasses and put them on, examining the gold mask intently.

“Lord Jun, did this piece come from the Inner Mongolia circuit?”

Lord Jun nodded. “Turn the mask over, Ren, and take a look.”

Ren Tai'an smiled strangely, lifted the mask from the box, and as soon as he turned it over and squinted at it, his eyes widened in shock, as if he’d seen something terrifying.

Lord Jun looked at the frightened Ren Tai'an, then at me. “Ren, what’s wrong?”

Ren Tai'an steadied himself, wiped the cold sweat from his brow, and waved his hand. “Nothing, just low blood sugar—I skipped breakfast.” He glanced at the mask in his hand. “Lord Jun, how many people have seen this mask?”

“Not many—just me, Qiu Tong, and old Sun from Peking University.”

Ren Tai'an nodded, inspecting the mask again.

“Lord Jun, the writing on this mask is in ancient Khitan script.”

Lord Jun nodded. “So it’s an artifact from the Liao dynasty?”

Ren Tai'an nodded. “Exactly—a Liao dynasty insect-gu mask.”

Lord Jun took a sip of tea. “Ren, I’ve handled plenty of these Liao dynasty insect-gu masks, but I’ve never seen Khitan script on the back. Take a closer look and see what it says.”

Ren Tai'an looked troubled, glancing at me for support. I nodded to him. He bowed his head and examined the mask closely, sighing.

“Lord Qiu, Lord Jun, I’m afraid my knowledge is limited. I really can’t tell what it says—I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

Lord Jun and I exchanged a glance, frowning in surprise.

“Ren, you’ve deciphered oracle bones for both the Capital Museum and the National Museum. We’ve come all this way—can’t you decipher this mask as well?”

Ren Tai'an shook his head. “Lord Jun, it took me three months to decipher five oracle bones back then. If you expect me to tell you straight away what these Khitan characters mean, not even a Daoist immortal could do that.”

Lord Jun chuckled and nodded. “No rush, Ren. Why not take some photos of the inscription on the mask, study them at your leisure, and let us know when you’ve figured it out?”

Ren Tai'an glanced at me, and I smiled.

“Lord Jun, there’s quite a bit of rust on this mask. I’m afraid the photos won’t be clear, and I wouldn’t want to hold up your business.”

Lord Jun understood his meaning—he wanted to keep the mask for proper study.

“If you’re worried about the clarity, just keep the mask with you. It’s of no use to me for now, and it’ll be easier for you to research.”

Ren Tai'an hesitated for a long while, saying nothing. Seeing this, I sneered, “Brother Ren, this mask has already claimed three or four lives. I have a bad feeling about it—it’s not exactly lucky. What do you think, Lord Jun?”

Ren Tai'an shuddered at my words and quickly asked what had happened. Lord Jun sighed and told him about Han Jinming and the family of three who’d been murdered in the mountains.

But Ren Tai'an showed no fear; instead, he smiled faintly. I was surprised. “Brother Ren, you’re not even frightened?”

Ren Tai'an laughed, looking at me. “Lord Qiu, do you actually believe Lord Jun’s story?”

I hesitated and shook my head.

“We’re all in this line of work—what strange things haven’t we seen? Don’t tell me about ghosts and demons.”

Lord Jun nodded with a smile. “Qiu, you’re still young and inexperienced.”

I nodded and smiled as well.

“Lord Jun, I’ll keep the mask, then. I’ll close shop and go home to study it. Tomorrow morning, come find me at the house next to the Anhui Guild Hall—I’ll give you a definitive answer.”

I sighed. “Brother Ren, take care tonight. Learn from Han Jinming’s fate—don’t let anything happen.”

Lord Jun gave me a playful slap. “Stop spooking him, Qiu Tong.”

Ren Tai'an laughed, closed the box, and placed it in his backpack. We rose to take our leave, and Ren Tai'an, carrying his bag, nodded and walked out of Rong Bao Zhai Tower with us.

Back home, it was already past five in the afternoon. I’d thought I’d just introduce Lord Jun to Ren Tai'an and slip away, but ended up staying for hours. After dinner, I lay down and drifted into a hazy sleep.

That night, I once again heard the familiar patter of footsteps and the resentful, mocking laughter. I thought, here it comes again—another dream. I shut my eyes tightly, trying not to think of the horror, as the footsteps grew louder, approaching my bedside. Eyes still closed, I felt the sinister presence standing beside me, the sound of malicious laughter sending chills over my scalp and making my body ache.

Suddenly, the laughter ceased, replaced by mournful sobbing.

I was startled—what, now that I’m not looking, you’ve stopped laughing and started crying? As I wondered, the shadowy figure began to mumble incoherently. I strained to listen.

“Qiu… you… I… Qiu Tong… I’m dead. Qiu Tong, you… I’m dead. Qiu Tong, you killed me!”

Qiu Tong, you killed me? At those words, I jolted awake, sitting bolt upright. Glancing around, I saw nothing; dawn was just breaking. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and checked the clock—it was nearly eight.

I got dressed, sat up, brewed a cup of tea, and took two pieces of honey cake from the fridge—the same old pairing.

After breakfast, I picked up my phone to call Mengya, to have her drive me to Ren Tai'an’s house near the Anhui Guild Hall. As I turned on my phone, my head buzzed—over thirty missed calls had appeared on the screen. I opened the log and saw three characters.

“Ren Tai'an.”

I hurriedly dialed his number, but as expected, the answer came:

“The number you have dialed is no longer in service.”