Chapter 2

The moonlight seemed to infuse the lines of the demonic figure with flesh and blood, as if it were about to leap out of the book. Li Chang’an felt a chill in his heart. He turned the pages, and on the first page, where the ink had long faded, two characters reappeared.

“Tong You?”

Li Chang’an murmured, the words meaning a passage to the netherworld, a way to communicate with spirits and ghosts. But what did this imply? Li Chang’an’s thoughts were in turmoil, and he couldn’t make sense of the current situation.

He wasn’t the type to sit and ponder when faced with a problem.

He stood up and walked to the door of the dilapidated house.

The door, which hadn’t been moved in a long time, was covered in dust and cobwebs.

Li Chang’an took a deep breath.

“Creak.”

With the sound of the hinges, the wooden door slowly opened.

A cacophony of market noise immediately flooded his ears.

Li Chang’an lifted his head in shock.

Compared to the dilapidated and desolate interior of the house, the outside was a different world.

It was a long street paved with compacted yellow earth, lined with ancient Chinese-style buildings. Although it was already late at night and the moon was high in the sky, white lanterns hung at intervals along both sides of the street, providing enough light to see clearly.

The street was bustling with people, but their clothing was either loose and flowing or simple and short, and the goods the street vendors were selling included hairpins and candied haws, with no trace of modern society.

It was as if he had plunged into a period drama.

A thin mist enveloped the street, and although the light was still bright, things became hazy at a distance.

Thus, the passersby seemed to emerge from the void and then return to it.

Li Chang’an wandered through the crowd, dazed and disoriented.

“Candied haws!” An old man carrying a straw pole called out on the street.

“Freshly picked mountain flowers today.” A girl in a plain silk dress passed by Li Chang’an with a basket.

He was surrounded by people in period costumes, and a sense of absurdity overwhelmed him.

What place is this? And why am I here?

…………………………………

“Customer.”

A middle-aged man with a white cloth over his shoulder suddenly called out to him.

“Would you like some noodles?”

Li Chang’an came to his senses and realized he had unknowingly arrived at a noodle stand.

He was about to shake his head in refusal, as he had just eaten dinner at the funeral banquet for his grandfather, but the aroma from the boiling pot, carried by the night breeze, filled his nostrils with a scent he had never smelled before, and the food in his stomach seemed to be digested instantly.

Before he knew it, he had sat down in an empty seat at the noodle stand.

“Customer, your noodles are here.”

The vendor called out, and a steaming bowl of plain noodles was placed in front of Li Chang’an.

The noodles, made from some unknown material, were black, with chopped green onions sprinkled on top. The hot broth, when poured over, released a mix of steam and aroma that hit him in the face.

Li Chang’an took a deep breath of the aroma, feeling it rush from his nose to his brain. He quickly picked up the chopsticks, eager to eat, but then he wondered if the vendor would accept the RMB he had.

At this thought, a sudden pain shot through his forehead, and he closed his eyes, rubbing it for a long time.

Just as he was recovering, he heard a hoarse voice from the next seat.

“Vendor, your broth is too bland.”

Li Chang’an looked over and saw a hunched old man holding a bowl of noodles, moving to the large pot where the noodles were being cooked.

“Alright, customer, please wait, I’ll adjust the flavor.”

The vendor, with both hands on his head, twisted it, and his head actually came off. He then felt around for the pot and threw his head into the boiling broth.

Li Chang’an almost screamed in fright.

Upon closer inspection, he noticed that the flames under the pot were green, and the fuel was not wood but human bones.

Despite the terrifying scene, none of the surrounding diners showed any sign of surprise.

His heart sank as he looked around the street.

“Here are your flowers.”

The girl in the plain silk dress smiled and took a dead hand from her basket, handing it to a pale couple.

“Candied haws, hold them well.”

The old man took a bamboo skewer, but instead of candied haws, it was a string of red eyeballs.

He squatted down and handed the skewer to a child with a topknot.

The child took the skewer and opened his mouth wide, which grew larger and larger, the corners of his mouth almost reaching his ears. One of his own eyeballs popped out, but he caught it and, along with the skewer, stuffed it into his mouth.

“Crunch.”

Juice splattered everywhere.

Li Chang’an shivered and couldn’t bear to look.

Turning back, the noodles in front of him were no longer noodles.

The black strands were clearly a mass of hair soaking in water, and the green onions were chopped maggots.

This was not a night market, but a ghost market!

……………………………………

Li Chang’an pinched his thigh hard, using the pain to calm his fear.

He carefully observed his surroundings. At the noodle stand, the white lanterns along the street gradually became sparse, and the passersby, or rather, the ghosts, were few and far between.

He must be near the end of the ghost market.

Li Chang’an glanced back at the pot, where the old man stood with his bowl, and the headless vendor was stirring the pot with a long spoon, cooking the soup with his own head.

The aroma of the soup hit his nose again, and Li Chang’an felt a wave of nausea.

He gently put down his chopsticks and quietly left the noodle stand.

He didn’t look at the dead faces along the street and hurried forward.

“Customer, you haven’t paid for your noodles.”

Suddenly, the vendor’s voice echoed behind him.

Instantly, the street fell silent. The ghosts, who had been busy with their own activities, stopped and turned to look at Li Chang’an, slowly closing in on him.

The path ahead was blocked.

Li Chang’an broke out in a cold sweat and slowly turned around.

The vendor stood behind him, holding his head under one arm. The head was dripping with water and steaming.

“Customer,” the head spoke, “don’t tell me you don’t have any money!”

Li Chang’an swallowed hard. After a series of shocks, his fear had somewhat subsided.

“That’s not a problem.”

The head smiled and, as it spoke, placed itself back on the neck, wiping the broth from its face with a cloth. The skin peeled off, revealing white bones, as if it had been cooked too long.

“Customer, you can pay with something else.”

“Pay with something else?”

Li Chang’an repeated softly, the words sending a chill down his spine.

“Of course!” the vendor said, “Heart, liver, spleen, lungs, kidneys—anything can be used to pay.”

As he spoke, the ghosts drew closer.