Thriller Night Talk

Chapter 147: I’m just being a fool

Translator-Rhapsodite

Editor-PerpetualMreow, Proofreader-Spring Flower

The man lying on the paper bed was stunned when he heard the name “Zhu Hongtao.”

He opened his mouth and seemed to want to speak, but the only thing that came out of his throat was a slurred guttural sound.

“Ahh, I forgot.”

Bei Quan quickly drew a simple spell and slapped it onto Zhu Hongtao.

“Most of the souls that have gone to the underworld are dissatisfied and tend to complain to each other, so you can’t speak casually in the paper city,” Bei Quan explained to Wei Fuyuan.

“Only when they are in front of the judge are they allowed to appeal their grievances.”

Wei Fuyuan finally understood why Bei Quan had told him not to speak.

Bei Quan turned to Zhu Hongtao:

“Now, you can speak.”

Zhu Hongtao tried to clear his throat.

“Cough! Ahem, cough, cough!”

The pronunciation was clear, and it was indeed his voice.

Zhu Hongtao looked up, disbelief written on his face.

“Who exactly are you ……?”

The man had been silent for a long time and seemed to have forgotten how to speak.

He spoke slowly, his pronunciation was unclear, and his pauses were not very natural: “How do you know…my name?”

“Answer my second question first.”

Bei Quan smiled. “Because we were looking for you.”

Bei Quan pulled Wei Fuyuan over and placed his hand on his little boyfriend’s shoulder.

“As for us, we came down from ‘above’ to ask you some questions,” he said.

Zhu Hongtao stared at them for a moment before taking a deep breath. Of course, souls don’t need to breathe, it was just a habit he still had as a new ghost.

“You mean…. that you…. are actually, living people?”

Bei Quan nodded with a smile.

This answer was too much for Zhu Hongtao to bear, and his expression finally cracked.

He stood up, stumbled forward two steps, reached out to the two of them, and seemed to want to feel the warmth of the living.

But, before he reached Bei Quan and Wei Fuyuan, he suddenly came to his senses and quickly withdrew his hand.

“Are you here to see me?”

After recovering from the shock, the words that came out of Zhu Hongtao’s mouth were much more fluent, “Do you know…… what happened to me?”

“I know a little bit,” Bei Quan smiled and said, “But you have to tell us the rest of the story.”

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“I didn’t think that I would encounter something like that ……”

Zhu Hongtao’s narrative began with this opening statement.

As a folklorist, he spent at least six months a year traveling to rural areas to collect and record local customs and traditions.

“Many outsiders imagine this work to be simple and romantic as if all one needs to do in this line of work is chat with the locals, listen to their stories, and write a few articles. But those who do the job know that folklore research is actually very hard work.”

The research institute where Zhu Hongtao worked arranged a small team for him, consisting of three people including himself. The other two were a researcher from the institute and a graduate student studying archaeology.

About three years ago, they began a research project in the southwest region, specifically investigating local ancestor worship and sacrificial customs.

The project lasted for three years, during which the three-person team traveled to remote and rugged areas throughout the southwest.

However, about a year ago, the graduate student on the team graduated, and another researcher had to take a two-month leave of absence due to a family matter, leaving Zhu Hongtao alone to continue his unfinished countryside research.

Sitting on a rickety chair, Zhu Hongtao showed his notes, which he continued to work on even in the afterlife, to Bei Quan and Wei Fuyuan.

Bei Quan took the notes and began to flip through them page by page.

Wei Fuyuan curiously went over and immediately frowned at the paper.

The paper was wrinkled white Xuan paper, which looked like it was torn off from scrap paper. The writing was done with a brush, and the ‘ink’ was a dark liquid of some indeterminate color, whether red or black.

What was written on it was a real ghost talisman that Wei Fuyuan could not understand at all.

In his eyes, these were just curves and ink dots casually sketched on the paper, no different from the scribbles of a three-year-old child and could not be called ‘words’ at all.

He secretly glanced at Bei Quan and found that Bei Quan seemed to be able to read these strange lines, and was looking at them very carefully.

After Bei Quan finished reading that stack of ‘records’, Zhu Hongtao continued.

“I remember… it should’ve been May 8th of last year. At that time, I was investigating local folklore in a small village about sixty kilometers south of Qixian. A fellow villager told me that the boss of a ‘land excavation’ had come to the neighboring village and seemed to have received two good items.”

‘Land excavation’ is jargon used among cultural relic dealers, referring to the act of picking up antiques from farmers’ homes and buying them at a low price from people who do not recognize their worth.

And of course, ‘boss’ referred to the dealer who would come to pick up the antiques.

In the early days of reform and opening up, the antique market flourished again. With market demand, businesses emerged.

The cultural relic dealers went to the countryside in waves, and ‘excavated’ the land over and over again. Whether it was a real antique or a fake cultural relic, as long as there was a possibility, they wouldn’t even let go of the villagers’ pickled cabbage jars, and would take them away for fifty yuan.

However, valuable antiques are limited in number. After many trips back and forth, even if you search every nook and cranny, it is difficult to ‘excavate’ any valuable items.

Consequently, there are not many antique dealers who personally go to ‘excavate land’ nowadays, although occasionally they may go to dig up ancient tombs hoping to find some Ming Dynasty artifacts that have been lost and scattered in the countryside.

Zhu Hongtao was a folklorist so of course, he was not in the business of antique dealing, but he was very curious about the ‘good stuff’ in the hands of the boss.

Unfortunately, curiosity kills the cat, and his time, Zhu Hongtao became that poor cat.

“I was afraid that the person would take the goods and leave, so I took a car to the neighboring village that day… and met that person.”

It was said that the boss who just received the ‘good stuff’ was a middle-aged man in his fifties, and was about one meter and six centimeters tall, dark-skinned and thin.

If he didn’t speak with a pure Beijing accent, he would look more like a malnourished Southeast Asian illegal immigrant from the outside.

Generally speaking, these antique dealers who were wandering on the edge of the law and morality were quite vigilant towards outsiders who didn’t know the details. However, Zhu Hongtao, a folklorist who roamed in the countryside all year round and interacted with people from all walks of life, believed that he could establish a good relationship with the other party smoothly, and perhaps even have the opportunity to take a look at the ‘good stuff’ the other party had found.

But to Zhu Hongtao’s surprise, the boss was actually easy to talk to.

When Zhu Hongtao disclosed his name, the other party not only did not express distaste, but instead offered to become friends with him and invited him to supper and drinks at the villagers’ nighttime restaurant.

“I actually felt a bit suspicious at the time.”

Zhu Hongtao lowered his head and shook it helplessly.

“But at the time, I had also thought that it would be fine since the restaurant where we ate was bustling with people, and I didn’t have much cash or valuables on me…and besides, what could a thin, middle-aged man even do to me?”

Speaking of this, he let out a long sigh.

“Then, I paid a heavy price for my carelessness…”

The thin, black antique dealer called himself Chen Chao, but Zhu Hongtao had no way of verifying whether this name was real or fake.

The two of them chatted very well during the meal.

In Zhu Hongtao’s view, although Chen Chao was unremarkable in appearance, his knowledge was unexpectedly substantial, and he had a bit of the style of a folk scholar.

He was knowledgeable in astronomy and geography and had some knowledge of yin-yang and the Eight Trigrams. Even in the field of folklore that Professor Zhu was most proficient in, he could still chime in and speak eloquently, with great insight.

They talked for several hours until after three rounds of drinking when Zhu Hongtao felt the alcohol go to his head. Chen Chao took out a black velvet box and showed him the “good stuff” in his hand.

Upon hearing this, Bei Quan smiled and said, “I guess he showed you a golden auspicious cloud-patterned eastern pearl bracelet, isn’t it?”

Zhu Hongtao was stunned and asked, “How did you know?”

He thought for a moment and then realized, “Could it be… that you guys have found that bracelet?”

“We did indeed get that bracelet.”

Bei Quan confirmed Zhu Hongtao’s guess.

“Do you know what kind of ‘thing’ that bracelet is?”

Bei Quan emphasized the word “thing”, hoping Zhu Hongtao would understand his meaning.

Sure enough, Zhu Hongtao shook his head and said, “I don’t know.”

He said, “I only looked at that bracelet, I didn’t even touch it at all, let alone….. know what ‘thing’ it is.”

Bei Quan smiled and didn’t ask any further questions. He only gestured for Zhu Hongtao to continue.

So Zhu Hongtao continued, “Then I got drunk… My last memory is of collapsing on the table, feeling woozy, and then losing consciousness.”

He pointed to himself and said, “When I regained consciousness, I was already on the dark path… I was dead.”

Speaking of this, Zhu Hongtao laughed, a very bitter laugh.

“I didn’t know I was already dead, nor did I know I was walking on the legendary ‘Huangquan Road.’ I just instinctively followed the light ahead and kept walking… until I arrived at this city.”

Zhu Hong told Bei Quan and Wei Fuyuan that when he first arrived, he had nothing and didn’t know his situation. He couldn’t even speak and felt like he was trapped with no way out. He almost became a lonely ghost.

Fortunately, he had good handwriting and met a kind-hearted elderly couple who helped him figure out what had happened and come to terms with the fact that he was already ‘dead.’

“It’s quite funny, isn’t it?” Zhu Hongtao said self-deprecatingly. “I didn’t even know when or how I died… I became a confused ghost just like this.”

He thought for a moment and added, “But there’s one thing that’s really strange.”

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