Chapter 46: The Paper Shop’s Secrets

Her primary purpose for this trip was to find Yin Sangu at the Paper Shop, settle the payment for the inscribed plaque, and inquire if they had any more books concerning Beitu Jun.

The streets were more crowded than usual, with people rushing out of town, carrying large and small bundles, all discussing a single topic.

“Yesterday’s rain, could it have been a divine manifestation?”

“Is that true?”

“I saw it with my own eyes!”

A gasp escaped the crowd. “Then haven’t we all gravely misjudged Master Yang?”

“Not me,” one person quickly retorted. “I’ve always thought Master Yang was a truly good man.”

“Nonsense.”

“I heard that Young Lady Qin also…”

The man, still boasting of his extraordinary insights, was abruptly pulled back by a companion who had spotted Qíngyǔ and Little Girl from afar.

“Young Lady Qin!”

The green-robed maiden nodded slightly towards them, then gracefully glided past with Little Girl in tow.

“Truly a divine being…”

“I couldn’t tell. They looked no different from ordinary people.”

“That’s just your lack of insight.”

“You… I won’t stoop to your level. My tigress at home is pressing me, and I still need to light incense for my child.”

“Tch.”

Countless such conversations filled the air that day; Little Girl didn’t quite understand them, only sensing they were praises for her mother.

Qíngyǔ, however, paid them no mind.

***

The journey soon ended; turning into a quiet alley, she saw the secluded Paper Shop, still undisturbed and peaceful.

The day was overcast, and Yin Sangu, the Paper Shop owner, had moved a chair to the entrance, a cup of clear tea beside him, as he rocked gently, eyes closed in contemplation.

This particular scene, Qíngyǔ mused, was something she had only truly witnessed in a previous, previous life, though back then, the old man would have had a broken radio playing ancient tunes beside him.

“Master Yin, you seem to be in high spirits.”

Upon hearing the distant voice, the Paper Shop owner stretched lazily, then, recognizing Qíngyǔ, promptly rose to greet her.

“Young Lady, have you come to collect your payment today?”

“Indeed.”

With a smile creasing his aged face, Yin Sangu retrieved a pouch of silver fragments from nearby and handed it to Qíngyǔ.

“It’s a total of ten taels of silver fragments. I don’t have a scale here, so I’ll have to ask the Young Lady to count them herself once she returns home.”

“It’s no trouble.”

Qíngyǔ accepted the pouch of silver, tucking it into her sleeve without a glance.

“Young Lady, you’ve rendered this old man a great service. Mùyún Temple… that plaque is inscribed splendidly.”

“Actually, it wasn’t the authorities who commissioned you to inscribe the plaque, was it?”

Noticing the maiden’s willingness to converse, Yin Sangu entered the shop, brought out two wooden chairs, invited them both to sit, and served tea before they settled into their casual talk.

“I won’t hide it from you, Young Lady, it truly wasn’t the authorities who made the request.”

“Then why did you suddenly decide to inscribe a plaque for the Deserted Temple?”

The Paper Shop owner took a sip of tea, shook his head, and gestured towards the distant mountains.

“Young Lady, you know about that dilapidated temple out there, don’t you?”

“I’ve been there once.”

“When I was a child, someone entrusted me to help sweep it a few times. But then, one day, lightning and thunder suddenly struck, destroying all the statues within the temple, and I never went back after that.”

Qíngyǔ did not drink her tea, instead contemplating for a moment before picking up the thread of conversation.

“So, that person asked you to inscribe the plaque for the temple?”

“Yes and no.”

Yin Sangu shook his head, casting a thoughtful glance at Qíngyǔ’s daoist robe. He recalled that just a few days prior, when she had first arrived, she was clad in patched, tattered clothes.

“At the time, he said this place couldn’t be without divine protection, so he asked me to look after it. I had originally intended to help with some repairs.”

The Paper Shop owner sighed, then pointed in the direction of the current Mùyún Temple.

“Unfortunately, the authorities later built their own temple. I thought, since there were already deities residing there, I no longer needed to concern myself with the dilapidated temple on the mountain…”

Qíngyǔ seamlessly continued the conversation.

“And afterward, whispers on the wind spread widely, causing even this temple to close its doors, is that right?”

“Indeed,” Yin Sangu nodded. “When the imperial court rebuilt the temple, I simply assumed that person’s efforts had borne fruit, and I didn’t concern myself with these matters afterward.”

He sighed, as if expressing regret.

“I shouldn’t have believed him. That person was utterly mad, claiming that the divine path in the world was vanishing and that great effort was needed to rebuild it. Who knows if it was true or false?”

‘Could there truly be someone in this world who understood the importance of the divine path to mortals?’

A thought flashed through Qíngyǔ’s mind, sparking a newfound curiosity about that person, and she continued to engage Yin Sangu in conversation.

“But didn’t you also believe his words?”

“Sir Zi and my late father were acquaintances, which led me to yearn for tales of immortals and deities since childhood.”

He chuckled self-deprecatingly, then took another sip of tea.

“He said he was an immortal, and I believed him.”

“It’s hard to say, perhaps he truly was an immortal.”

Qíngyǔ, however, found these matters difficult to judge. Primarily, she wasn’t very familiar with the conduct of cultivators in this world; who could say if they weren’t all a bit eccentric?

“If he were an immortal, he would have long since built temples in the mortal realm,” Yin Sangu sighed, dropping the subject. “Young Lady, I presume you’ve come to see me for more than just this?”

“Yes, I’d like to ask for a few books, Master.”

Qíngyǔ nodded, bringing out the copy of Four Travels Miscellany.

“Whether they are compiled by Zhongwen Tang, written by him personally, or any other books that record ancient events, all will do.”

Yin Sangu took the book, his aged hand caressing its cover, and with a respectful nod to the maiden, slowly entered the shop, retrieving a book chest from a corner.

“People nowadays don’t much care for history; these books have fallen into obscurity.”

He coughed, choked by the dust, and instinctively grabbed a feather duster to wipe the grime from the book chest before painstakingly moving it to the counter.

“Young Lady, please come take a look.”

Qíngyǔ followed, only then realizing the book chest was truly a treasure trove of knowledge.

Bamboo slips, stitched bindings, painted scrolls, parchment… a myriad of formats were present, varying widely in age.

“That very copy of Four Travels Miscellany was also taken from here back then.”

Yin Sangu sighed with emotion, running his hand over the book he held, before placing it into the chest and pushing the entire collection towards Qíngyǔ.

“That pedantic scholar, Wang Weimo, still bothered to look at books like these?”

Qíngyǔ felt no fondness whatsoever for the couple who had mistreated Little Girl; otherwise, even for someone she disliked, she wouldn’t have spoken so harshly.

“He only looked at them for political essays, merely skimming them without grasping their true essence.”

Waving his hand dismissively, Yin Sangu also held little regard for the last son of the Wang family.

The maiden gazed at the box of books, while Little Girl, even more curious, clung to the counter with both hands, stretching on tiptoes to peer at its contents.

“Just a few of them will do.”

She actually wanted to buy them all, but alas, her purse was too meager.

Yin Sangu, discerning her apprehension, couldn’t help but let out a hearty laugh.

“Young Lady, there’s no need to worry. I won’t take a single coin; simply take them all.”

“How can I…”

Qíngyǔ, upon hearing this, instinctively moved to refuse, but he cut her off with a wave of his hand.

“Ah, Young Lady, you and Sir Zi are old acquaintances. These history books sit here, unwanted by anyone. If you take them, it will be a good home for them.”

With the conversation having reached this point, the maiden found it difficult to refuse. After a moment of silence, she addressed Yin Sangu again: “Then perhaps, Master, you could find a sheet of Xuan paper, and I’ll leave you two characters.”

“Excellent, excellent!”

With that, he retrieved paper and brush and spread them out for Qíngyǔ.

The green-robed maiden led Little Girl forward, reached for the brush, and after a brief contemplation, effortlessly imbued her intent into the strokes, writing the characters for “Paper Shop.”

Only after she finished writing did Yin Sangu clap his hands and sigh in admiration.

“Young Lady, you’ve truly deceived this old man.”

“It was unavoidable.”

“When you came last time, Young Lady, you claimed these were… the words left by the master of the house.”

He carefully, almost reverently, touched the scroll of Xuan paper. A faint scent of ink seemed to waft from his nostrils, and looking closer, he saw a young boy sitting inside the Paper Shop, bathed in the setting sun, diligently practicing calligraphy outside.

“Please, Master, be more forgiving.”

“Ah, what splendid calligraphy…” Yin Sangu murmured, closing his eyes. “Young Lady, please take those books. They are of no use to this old man now.”

“Then I thank you, Old Gentleman.”

After Qíngyǔ picked up the book chest and led Little Girl away, he remained rooted, gazing at the characters, yet feeling as though something was missing from them.

After a long period of contemplation, he retrieved his own brush and ink, and with a trembling hand, wrote a line of fine regular script below:

Yin Sangu, taken in by an immortal in his old age.

Looking at the characters again, the young boy who had been diligently practicing calligraphy in the Paper Shop suddenly rose, carefully took a miscellaneous book on seeking immortals and asking about the Dao from a hidden compartment between the bookshelves, his expression shifting from sorrow to joy.

Just like the man he was now.