Volume III

Pandora Wilson: What a generous girl. One could call her endearing simplicity "cute."
Pandora Wilson: … As long as that cuteness doesn't get taken out on me.
Pandora Wilson: Anyway, I accepted her offer of hospitality and money. It was only right.
Peddler I: My golden elixirs bring wealth and dispel disaster! Enlighten your mind! Are you after my lucky charms, or miracle remedies?
Peddler II: Come one, come all! Witness this extraordinary lucky cabbage! A superior produce harvested only once every three years near the Wénqǔxīng Temple …
Peddler I: Face and bone painting, sketches and drawings. Come and see!
The peddler's calls and shouts echo back and forth, with shelves on both sides of the street filled with colorful goods.
Pedestrians dressed in a motley of colors bustle around in an endless stream.
Peddler I: Madam! Madam! Wait a moment!
The peddler's face is painted with a wide, ever-bright smile. A pair of fox ears poke out from his hat, and orange and black fur grow on either side of his cheeks.
Pandora Wilson: I don't need anything.
Peddler I: Oh, but why rush off, madam! It couldn't hurt to take a look, it won't cost you a thing—
The peddler pushes out a small wooden cart festooned with talismans and containers full of pills. But these are not what attract the most attention.
A wooden stick is inserted in the stall, on which a white cloth is suspended, like a waving flag. Three large characters are scrawled in vermilion ink.
Pandora Wilson: … "Face Painting"?
Peddler I: Yes, madam. Face painting, that is exactly what that is!
Peddler I: Looking at you, I see only lips on your face. Pretty lips, of course, but you have no nose or eyes at all.
Peddler I: And if you have no nose, you must not be able to smell sweet perfumes. And if you have no eyes, you cannot see the beauty of the world. Not to mention ears and eyebrows!
Peddler I: Sounds like a hard life? How could it not be dull?
Pandora Wilson: So, you want to draw the rest of my face for me?
Peddler I: Certainly! I will use a secret skin painting method to paint you, so that you will live a life of elegance and tranquility from now on. You'll be envied by even the immortals!
What is there to be gained from interviewing a businessman? Or rather, what would it cost?
The paper stretches into an approximation of a smile.
Pandora Wilson: … As it happens, I have some silver with me.
Pandora Wilson: But can your painting technique be trusted?
Peddler I: Of course! My art is a product of generations, a business passed down my family line. I've been painting since I was a child—
Peddler I: Should the painting not be to your satisfaction, come find me and I will fix it for you. Just make sure not to get it wet for seven days after painting …
He flicks his fluffy ears, and his hat nearly floats off his head.
Peddler I: Oh, enough about that, we'll talk about it later. First, you'll have to choose a style!
Peddler I: Here, take a look. Which one do you want?
The peddler eagerly hands over a picture album, flipping it open to reveal countless eyes of different shapes.
Peddler I: Please take a look. I have all the most current styles!
Peddler I: Of course, this pair at the very top is our bestseller! Everyone loves it!
Pandora Wilson: Best-selling eyes?
A pair of dark, shimmering eyes are drawn on the paper. There are indeed beautiful, but not outstanding.
Pandora Wilson: Are these "best-selling eyes" popular for purely aesthetic reasons, or is there something else?
Peddler I: Haha … Naturally, take a look at the eyes—delicately shaped, an average length on the top and bottom, and black as ink.
Peddler I: In our profession, these are called "Goose Eyes." Another name for them is "eyes of righteousness."
Peddler I: Goose Eyes not only have a pleasing shape and a good name but also excellent symbolism.
Peddler I: According to physiognomy, if a person has Goose Eyes, they are modest and courteous, have a measured temperament, and will be rich and prosperous.
Peddler I: Miss Mouth, may I say you would look fabulous with Goose Eyes.
Peddler I: Now, about your nose …
Citizen: Tsk! You itinerant con-man, not surprised to see you still swaggering about!
With a loud shout, the bustling street falls silent for a few seconds. Everyone stares blankly at the newcomer.
The newcomer has a black cloth with two holes in it tied around their head.
One hole is where a person's forehead should be, and the other is on his cheekbone. And two angry red eyes peer out from them.
Citizen: Four days ago, I spent a small fortune on your so-called face painting. And it all seemed fine at first.
Citizen: But now, look at me! It's left my eyes, nose, and mouth all askew!
Citizen: Whenever I go out, I have to cover my face because of you—you owe me an explanation!
He furiously pushes aside the letter, grabs the fox-eared peddler by his clothes and begins to shake him.
The cloth sinks slightly inward in the middle of his face, rising and falling with the sound of each frenzied breath, making it clear that the place where his nose should have been is now his mouth.
Peddler I: This …!
Peddler I: Oh, sir, this—this is obviously because the paint got wet— that's what ruined everything!
Peddler I: Was I not clear when we made the deal? Hmm? So why are you coming to me with complaints now?!
In their struggle, the peddler's hat flows off, his collar opens, and the contents of the stall are scattered all over the ground.
The peddler's tail stiffens, and his ears press tightly against his scalp, but he can't match the man's strength. He can only shout at the top of his lungs.
Peddler I: You—you're extorting me! Help, help!
Citizen: You aren't conning your way out of this!
Citizen: I ought to teach you a lesson today, you crooked businessman!
As the pair are at loggerheads, an elderly man sweeps aside the crowd and stands between the two.
Lizheng: What has caused all of this commotion?
Lǐzhèng's arrival effects an immediate hushed silence.
Followed soon after by, an even bigger ruckus—as the peddler and the man begin to argue over one another.
Lizheng: Quiet—quiet!
Lǐzhèng examines the man with the crooked mouth and eyes.
Lizheng: State your case.
Citizen: Lǐzhèng, sir, four days ago, I let this crooked businessman paint my face. I only wanted to make myself look a little more presentable, then maybe I wouldn't scare away the ladies ...
Citizen: But then after I washed my face, my entire face went crooked!
Lǐzhèng then looks towards the fox-eared peddler and gestures for him to speak.
Lizheng: Your turn.
Peddler I: Sir, please understand … To be effective, my miraculous method of face painting requires my clients to go seven days without washing or wetting the paint.
Peddler I: I made this very clear during the transaction. But only four days have passed, and as the man himself said, he has washed his face!
Peddler I: If it did get wet, then his face would return to normal after seven days. As for its current crookedness, there's nothing I can do. He'll just have to cover it up.
The more he says, the more aggravated he feels. The peddler purses his lips.
Lizheng: In that case, the answer is quite simple.
Lizheng: You, sir, must wait for three more days. If your face remains dissatisfactory after three days, then the peddler will have to find some way to restore your previous appearance.
Citizen: Lǐzhèng, sir, you have my greatest admiration. But this deceitful merchant is clearly incompetent, how can I trust his word that my features won't stay distorted?
Citizen: When it comes to casting spells or seeking medical treatment, timing is critical. A day or two is manageable, but if too much time passes, I could be stuck like this forever. I … I won't be able to live!
The burly man covers his face with his hands and lets out a pitiful whimper.
Citizen: It's bad enough that people think I look like a joke … But with this face even eating becomes an unbearable hassle!
Citizen: A mouthful of rice winds up either in my eyes or up my nose … Once I finally get it in my mouth, it makes my head spin all over again …!
Peddler I: Fine … Sir, if you don't trust me, let's go and find Ms. Fù.
Peddler I: Ms. Fù's red talismans are renowned throughout the land. She will surely have a solution to our mutual problem. And as lucky would have, we're well-acquainted, she will certainly grant my request …
Citizen: Ms—Ms. Fù?! You awful fox, you're talking nonsense again!
The man's askew face suddenly flushes, his neck reddening along with it.
Peddler I: Sir, I'm nothing if not an honest businessman. I've never swindled a soul.
Peddler I: Haven't you heard of Hú Fù's Emporium? I've done very good business with Ms. Fù. We wouldn't lie to you about something like this.
Citizen: Hú … Hú … Oh! Your last name is Hú—
His eyes widen and blink repeatedly, his crooked mouth opening and closing.
The man stomps his feet, dropping a bag of broken silver. He cries out "Forget it," and turns away hurriedly.
The peddler, who has looked sad just a moment before, smiles. With sharp eyes and nimble fingers, he slips the money bag into his pocket.
Peddler I: Right, with all that finished. Where was that lovely-lipped customer? I can't let all this trouble keep me from making money …
The excitement dies down, and the crowd of onlookers eventually disperses.
The peddler's ears prick up, and he looks from side to side. At last, he catches sight of the fluttering white sheet. She is already far down the road, followed by Lǐzhèng, who is dressed in green.
Pandora Wilson: You said the Hú and Fù families have been in business together for nearly ten years in this city?
Lizheng: Yes. Though, the story of the Hú and Fù families started a few generations ago.
Lizheng: In the beginning, the Hú family came down from the mountains to the city. They were fox spirits and tricksters. When they saw two adjacent houses that they liked, they decided to move in.
Lizheng: The owner of those houses was a wealthy merchant who would often be away on business during the year. After the Hú moved in, they began to torment his wife and children. It got so bad that they moved out within just three months.
Lizheng: Once the merchant returned, he tried selling the property, but anyone who tried to buy it was quickly driven away by the foxes' tricks. Over time, everyone knew to avoid the houses, so all his buyers dried up.
Pandora Wilson: So the foxes … No, the Hú family … just lived there?
Pandora Wilson: Isn't that illegal? Why didn't the city's management intervene?
Lizheng: At the time …
Lǐzhèng looks up at the sky, pondering for a moment.
Lizheng: Don't laugh, madam, but at that time, the management of Pèi City was very lax. Back then the leaders only cared for themselves and ignored the concerns of the people.
Pandora Wilson: These things happen everywhere. It's hardly surprising.
The paper trembles slightly, returning to the previous topic.
Pandora Wilson: So, did the Fù family take up residence there afterward?
Lizheng: Yes. The Fù family was poor and had only a small straw house to live in. It also happened that the snow was heavy that winter and collapsed the roof of their house.
Lizheng: With no other family around, Mr. Fù and his wife had nowhere to go. In desperation, they decided to brave the haunted houses and its fox spirits.
Lizheng: Mr. Fù was a scholar and didn't make much money. What little he earned was from helping people write letters.
Lizheng: His wife's maiden name was Huò. She was born in Qiántáng and had something to do with Daoism. Her family fell out of power, but a few generations ago, some of them had transformed into immortals.
Lizheng: Unfortunately, she had few useful talents. She could paint, but not well. Her paintings were not worth much.
Pandora Wilson: The Hú family were arcanists. And having lived so long deep in the mountains means their bloodline must have been very pure. Meanwhile, it sounds like the Huò family was much more deeply entrenched in the world, so their bloodline had thinned … Was she a mixed-blooded arcanist?
Pandora Wilson: So, when the merchant abandoned this home, it turned into a struggle between these Arcanists?
Lǐzhèng waves his hand, revealing a candid smile.
Lizheng: Not quite, madam. Let me explain it to you in detail.
Lizheng: Let's start with the Hú and Huò families. They are pretty much as you said.
Lizheng: The Hú family were originally fox spirits from the mountains, indeed they had their own domain there. Their marriages were restricted to their race. But this particular branch lost its power and land in some kind of squabble, so they were forced to come here to make a living.
Lizheng: The Huò family, on the other hand, had a background in Daoism. They had long intermarried with spirits of plants and trees. But they always lived among humans, and their marriages were more open-minded.
Lizheng: So, as you guessed, one side was the Arcanists, and the other was the Mixed.
Lizheng: But then there was also Mr. Fù in the house, as I mentioned.
Pandora Wilson: And I suspect that he was ...
Lizheng: Yes, he is human.
Lizheng: Mr. Fù's family was poor, and had no particular talents or abilities to speak of. There were no special restrictions on who they could marry, but most were ordinary humans. He was, as countless generations of his ancestors had been, thoroughly human.
Lizheng: As for Mr. Fù and Ms. Huò, they were deeply in love, a marriage as solid as gold; one a careful and smart planner, and the other able to cast spells. They relied on their wits to contend with the foxes, as they squabbled back and forth.
Lizheng: They had set up a trap for the foxes—to conjure up a green snake that would appear behind one of them. And it worked. It scared the eldest of the Hú family; when he saw that snake, they say, he jumped three feet into the air and fell with a splash into a nearby well.
Pandora Wilson: And then?
Lizheng: Haha, well the couple had heard the commotion. They came shouting and scrambling over the fence between the two houses, in order to rescue the old fox.
Lizheng: Ms. Huò, feeling guilty for endangering someone's life, took her silver hairpin and used the Máoshān Art of Walking Through Walls to tunnel through the earth and reach the bottom of the well to fish out the old fox.
Lizheng: Unfortunately, the old fox still fell ill from all the shock and cold, and Ms. Huò drained by her use of such an unpredictable magic, fell sick as well.
Lizheng: So the Hú and Fù all nursed them back to health together; feeling indebted and grateful to one another, they somehow wound up becoming the closest of friends.
Lizheng: After the two families reconciled, the wildness of the Hú family began to soften, and they learned much more about the world. After a few years, they even took it upon themselves to apologize to the merchant's family.
Pandora Wilson: …
The story draws to a close. The visitor from the West, thrilled from start to finish, is silent for a while before she asks another question.
Pandora Wilson: And that's how their relationship continues to be to this day?
Lizheng: Indeed it is.
Pandora Wilson: A … Pure-blooded human—
Pandora Wilson: Closely connected with an Arcanist and a Mixed-blood, almost… As close as family.
Pandora Wilson: Is there no conflict or estrangement between them?
Pandora Wilson: As you said, these Hú were hard to tame and had long plundered the residence. Did nobody care about all of their wrongdoings?
Lizheng: Madam, a certain amount of conflict and injustice will always exist; they are as constant as the movement of the heavens or the falling of rain.
Lǐzhèng halts. They have reached the end of the bustling merchant's hub. Looking back, it is full of merchants and crowds of pedestrians.
Lizheng: The commotion you saw just now happens several times a day in this market.
Lizheng: With mortals, extraordinary men, mountain spirits, and even immortals ascending on their clouds, how could there be no friction or discord among them?
Lizheng: It's said there is friction between the extraordinary and the mundane and animosity between monsters and immortals, and do mortals not war against each other? Do extraordinary men not scheme against one another?
Lizheng: But if it is true that everyone can harm one another, why can't they love each other just as easily?
Pandora Wilson: I understand what you mean.
The writing on the paper has stopped, and the letter refolds itself.
Pandora Wilson: This has truly been an unbelievable story and a rare new display of art.
Pandora Wilson: Thank you for sharing it with me, sir.
Lizheng: Haha … You're welcome. Jiǔ Niángzǐ told me you were her guest, which makes you our guest. She has welcomed you, and so do we.
Lizheng: I hope you might spend some more time with her. She never had any friends her age ...
Gate Guard: Message!
Gate Guard: Greetings, Lǐzhèng! Mr. Fǎcáo has arrived. We were waiting for you to return to discuss how to deal with the mischievous birdman we seized!
Pandora Wilson: Birdman …?
Pandora Wilson: What a coincidence. I, too, encountered a "birdman" gentleman not long ago. Lǐzhèng, could you arrange a meeting between us?
Lizheng: Apologies, madam. But Zhící is not a place for idle chit-chat.
Lǐzhèng nods a polite farewell. Walking away with the gate guard, they disappear at the end of the road.
As the letter returns to the merchant's hub, a girl in a green dress rushes past her in a hurry.
Young Girl: Cousin! Cousin, what's going on? Did you get into another argument? Did you pull their tail again?!
Young Girl: I keep saying I should run the stand, but somehow I always let you win. Whenever you get into arguments, you come home shedding fur in patches with an upset stomach. Then we'll all have to listen to you howling through the night—