The sweet fragrance of rice wine filled the crowded tables of the He Mansion's courtyard. The harmonious notes of zithers and lutes drew nearer, striking Ning Zhe's skull like a heavy hammer.
The guests, believing they toasted the Snake God when raising their cups, were in fact saluting him. In an instant, the ghost's rule was triggered hundreds of times. False perceptions formed a conduit that stole identities, and the Snake God's vast memories flooded into Ning Zhe's mind.
There was no time to sort through this torrent of information—such a commotion could not have gone unnoticed by the ghost.
"No…perhaps it noticed as soon as I turned a blind eye to Lin Zhiyuan's death…"
In a sense, the ghost and the Snake God were one and the same.
Ning Zhe had uncovered two mysteries in He Village:
Why did the Snake God go mad?
How does a ghost steal someone's identity?
He had already solved the second, and as he stole more of the Snake God's identity, he realized both answers were identical.
"The Snake God went mad because, before I even acted, its identity had already been stolen by the ghost."
Huddled within the Snake God's throat, Ning Zhe's small body trembled. Feeling the deluge of the deity's memories wash over his consciousness, he found himself as the great jade-green serpent with growing horns, its long body coiling through the earth's veins and lying in peaceful slumber for untold ages—until one day, a nameless wandering spirit drifted in and began to unravel that tranquility.
The invisible ghost haunted every corner of He Village, bending villagers' perceptions strand by strand, gradually stealing fragments of the Snake God's identity. As those fragments were replaced, the deity's body decayed until all who knew the Snake God recognized only the ghost… and the true Snake God went mad.
Those endless memories faded like awakening from a great dream.
The time Ning Zhe spent within the Snake God's recollections felt so vast that his own eighteen years as "Ning Zhe" seemed like the dream.
"How dangerous…" Ning Zhe snapped his eyes open, as if awakening from a nightmare.
Using the ghost's rule to steal others' identities might sound exciting, but it was perilous. His earlier trials had been minor, but the Snake God was extraordinary. Its immense memories and ageless life surged like a flood, threatening to wash away his own memories and self.
Sadness, anger, fear, joy, madness—the Snake God's emotions raged in Ning Zhe's mind. He almost forgot who he was.
He swiftly repeated the ghost's rule to steady himself:
"When someone mistakes the ghost for someone they know, the ghost may use that false perception as a conduit to steal that person's identity and all associated information."
If the stolen identity was complete, it could even fool the Snake God and redirect taboo punishments onto the stolen person.
That was how Gu Yunqing and Ye Miaozhu had died, and how Ning Zhe himself almost became lost, believing he was the Snake God.
"But if I nearly fooled myself, can I fool the Snake God?" he wondered. Then he shrugged inwardly, "Who knows? Let's see if it's life or death…"
Ning Zhe struggled out of the Snake God's mouth. His black-and-white wings were streaked with blood, the feathers dirty, oily, and speckled with mildew.
Under the watchful eyes of hundreds of guests in the main hall, the magpie that emerged from the Snake God shed its black feathers and became a handsome youth covered in wounds.
On either side of the lotus platform sat the mansion's master and mistress, resplendent in brocade and jade. Strange music continued to play; the headless footman still blew his suona, yet every cup in midair froze.
Below the platform, two maidservants in silk sashes guided a gorgeously dressed young woman forward. Her graceful form was wrapped in a flowing red dress, her pale face adorned with a faint red plum blossom, her lips bearing a touch of distant sorrow—yet above the nose, no other features were visible.
Her jade-like eyebrows and emerald face shimmered quietly. Supported by her attendants, the faceless girl knelt before the Snake God and, when her cherry lips parted, a haunting melody drifted forth:
"But I ask only why you come, never why you leave…"
"I don't know why you'd marry a female snake deity, but if the Snake God were male, I could understand you," Ning Zhe said casually. He knelt at the lotus platform before the shattered remains of the Snake God and quietly reached out his hand.
In the deathly silence of the hall, his fingertips pinched a corner of the almanac as the mournful song reverberated.
"I now possess three crucial identities… Snake God, Ghost, Ning Zhe…" he murmured as he closed his eyes and turned the yellowed paper to tomorrow's page.
The next moment, he opened his eyes. "Which identity will bear the punishment for this taboo?"
His question remained unanswered.
The instant he turned the almanac and looked down, everything shattered as if someone struck the hall's mirror with a fist. Fine cracks spread through the air.
Two independent rules clashed fatally because of Ning Zhe's actions, like misaligned gears grinding until the world built on those rules fractured and collapsed.
Just before losing sight, Ning Zhe heard someone scream and someone else sobbing, but he could not distinguish who or if it was even not himself.
When his consciousness cleared, soft sunlight filtered through, and he blinked in surprise.
Looking down, he saw under his feet a worn wooden threshold, and in his hand an old copper-painted door ring. Before him stood a heavy, ancient red door he had just pushed open.
Ning Zhe stepped inside and instinctively glanced to the door's right. There stood the old camphor tree where he and neighborhood children had played as kids. Beneath it was a rustic wooden table piled with yellow-and-red fallen leaves long uncleaned.
He drew in a breath of familiar air and walked along the overgrown path.
"I'm home."
This was the moment he returned to reality—stepping through his childhood home's gate into He Village.
Since his real self had not died, clearly at least one of the ghost or the Snake God must be dead.
Or perhaps both perished?
The eerie world of He Village had broken completely under conflicting rules, yet the fate of the Snake God and ghost remained unknown—and each was dangerous. He had to find a way to confirm their status…
Suddenly, a spark of insight lit in his mind. He stopped, looked up thoughtfully.
In the next moment, a magpie swooped into the camphor tree's crown.
At the same moment, an inexplicable word surfaced in Ning Zhe's mind—no one had ever explained its meaning, yet he instinctively felt it was a name.
The name of the ghost who had stolen the Snake God's identity:
"Its name is… Taiyi."
The Snake God was called Zhàoyòu, and the ghost was called Taiyi.
Do their names hold any special significance?
Chapters in advance there: patreon.com/Thaniel_a_goodchild