The Young Girl's Chronicles of Demon-Slaying

Chapter 27: The Businessman

“Why did you come back to pick up your luggage? Didn’t you already have someone send it to the station?” Ling Zhiqing asked. “Who delivered it?” Song Jianqiu asked. “Wasn’t it the other three who live in this dorm…” Ling Zhiqing suddenly stopped mid-sentence. Then, as if she’d realized something, she let out a curse and said, “I really did underestimate just how shameless these people can be.” Clearly, Ling Zhiqing had figured it out: the claim that they’d “helped take it to the station” was nothing more than an excuse concocted by the three people in the dorm—they’d simply taken possession of someone else’s luggage while the owner was away. Although she didn’t finish her thought, Song Jianqiu understood perfectly. “Those guys—this isn’t just theft; it’s outright robbery!” Ling Zhiqing looked furious as she said, “Little sister, just wait. When they get back, I’ll stand up for you and make them return your things! If they don’t, I’ll call the police!” “No need,” Song Jianqiu shook her head, declining Ling Zhiqing’s offer of help. “Let them keep it. It’s just a few pieces of clothing anyway.” “Seeing how thoroughly they cleaned out the place, I’m afraid they might have even stolen your bank card.” “It’s fine—there’s no money on that card.” As the saying goes, a cunning rabbit has three burrows. Since she knew this place was often targeted by thieves, how could she not take precautions? The bank card left out in the open actually only held two or three hundred for pocket money; she had another bank card where she kept her real savings—money she’d saved up over several years of work. It wasn’t much, just over 40,000, but it was her hard-earned money. Ignoring Ling Zhiqing’s puzzled gaze, Song Jianqiu crouched down and pressed her hand directly against a tile under the bed. There was clearly a hollow space beneath the tile; when she pressed down on one end, the other end popped up, making it easy to lift the tile away. This revealed a small recess containing a rolled-up red plastic bag. Ling Zhiqing stood by, her mouth agape in surprise, watching as Song Jianqiu retrieved the plastic bag and put the tile back in place. As long as it was placed neatly, you couldn’t tell at all that the tile was hollow underneath. Plus, since it was under the bed—a spot no one would normally step on—it was even less likely to be discovered. Ling Zhiqing was stunned. Who knew you could do something like that?! As she watched Song Jianqiu pull a palm-sized, paper-wrapped object out of the red plastic bag, she knew immediately that it must be a bank card! Sure enough, once the outer layer of paper was unwrapped, a nearly brand-new bank card was revealed. Seeing the bank card, Song Jianqiu finally let out a quiet sigh of relief. Thankfully, the card had been hidden quite well; otherwise, if someone had stolen the more than 40,000 yuan inside, she wouldn’t have been able to report it lost in her current state, and losing that money would have broken her heart. “Now I finally believe you’re Fang Heng’s sister!” Ling Zhiqing said with an expression of admiration. “Otherwise, who in their right mind would think to hide a bank card under a tile?” “Mm-hmm.” Although she’d recovered her money, Song Jianqiu was still feeling a bit down. She gave a soft reply and turned to leave. “Hey, hey! Little sister! I still have a question I haven’t asked yet!” Seeing this, Ling Zhiqing hurriedly called out to Song Jianqiu. “What is it?” “What’s going on with your brother? He just vanished out of the blue and hasn’t come back for days. Last time we had late-night snacks, I heard his company had marked him as having resigned automatically. Did he really quit and go back home?” “No… he’s dead.” That’s right! Fang Heng was already dead; he was no longer himself. Now, there was only Song Jianqiu. “Huh?!” This sudden news left Ling Zhiqing stunned for a moment; by the time she came to her senses, the dorm room was already empty. “Hey, wait!” She hurried out after her, but Song Jianqiu paid no attention to her calls and simply went downstairs and left. “That little girl—she has absolutely no manners!” Ling Zhiqing angrily punched the wall. The punch was quite forceful, but she didn’t clutch her hand or cry out in pain; instead, a pensive expression crossed her face: “She seemed really scared of me. Could it be because of this makeup?” She grabbed her long, brightly dyed hair, held it up to her eyes, and shook her head, continuing to mutter to herself: “It seems this unconventional look is still pretty hard for people to accept… But then again, it was meant to scare people… I should head back now… How can someone just die like that? It’s way too sudden, isn’t it?” Muttering to herself, she returned to her room and closed the door. Retrieving her bank card finally put Song Jianqiu’s biggest worry to rest. Leaving the dorm building, she turned and headed straight to a nearby ATM to check her balance. Seeing that the amount was exactly the same—not a penny more, not a penny less—she finally let out a deep sigh of relief. Since she didn’t have an ID card and couldn’t get a new bank card, she’d have to keep the money on this card for now. She believed that since her three coworkers had taken her luggage, they probably wouldn’t dare call the police. In everyone else’s eyes, she had simply left without notice and had completely vanished. If no one reported her missing, she shouldn’t have any trouble using this bank card for now. After checking her balance, Song Jianqiu thought for a moment and decided to withdraw 300 yuan. Although she now had food and a place to stay and didn’t have to worry about making ends meet—and unlike real children, she didn’t feel the urge to buy snacks whenever she had money—she still felt more at ease carrying a little cash on her. That way, she’d be prepared in case she ever needed to spend money. What’s more, she had been planning to get a haircut, but after withdrawing the money and stepping out of the glass doors of the ATM, she suddenly realized that if she went ahead and got her hair cut without permission, she wouldn’t be able to explain where the money came from when she got home. After all, she had been an orphan—one who’d been rescued after falling into the water—so how could she possibly have any money? So she had no choice but to give up on the idea of getting a haircut and put the money away for the time being, to avoid being found out when she got home. It was her own money, yet she had to be so careful with it—just thinking about it was exhausting. So she stopped dwelling on it, walked along the sidewalk, and headed toward Azure Park, hoping that perhaps the thing she’d been looking forward to might finally happen. Unfortunately, Azure Park was still the same as ever—crowded with tourists and pedestrians, yet calm and peaceful. The incident a few days ago, when someone had jumped into the river, had spread out like ripples on the lake’s surface, only to vanish without a trace. Nothing happened, and she didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. Instead, while wandering aimlessly, she came across a street vendor sitting in the park taking a break. If you go back more than a decade, there were actually many street vendors like this. Most of them carried multi-tiered wooden stands shaped like the Chinese character for “干” (gan), usually hung with various imitation silver jewelry such as necklaces, earrings, and bracelets, while also selling small items like wind chimes, bells, keychains, and colorful rubber bands. They didn’t hawk their wares; they simply walked along, leaning on their wooden stands, and the items hanging from them jingled and clinked incessantly, easily catching the attention of passersby. If it had been just an ordinary street vendor, she would have merely glanced at them and walked on, but the street vendor she encountered now was selling something a little different. Curious, she moved closer. The wooden rack stood on the ground, displaying a dazzling array of goods—enough to make one’s eyes spin—but most were small trinkets: keychains shaped like miniature knives, swords, wind chimes, and bells; as well as small accessories like Buddhist prayer beads, bracelets, and amulets. But what was truly strange was that, aside from these relatively ordinary items, the rack also held some hideously ugly little figurines; the kind of straw dolls used in black magic rituals seen in horror movies; several of them even had silver needles stuck into them. There were even simple yellow paper figures cut into human shapes, as well as paper cranes folded from the same yellow paper. At the very edge, a large bundle of talismans—painted with cinnabar to look like demonic runes—hung on the shelf. Do people really buy merchandise that looks this clearly out of the ordinary? Song Jianqiu couldn’t help but glance at the owner of the wooden rack. He was a young man who looked to be in his thirties, with short hair, a pale, beardless face, and an ordinary appearance. He was wearing a light gray long-sleeved shirt and pants. Although there were no customers, the man appeared neither hurried nor flustered; he carried himself with a calm, unhurried air, giving the impression that he wasn’t really in the business of selling goods. In fact, just as Song Jianqiu was sizing him up, he was sizing her up as well. Seeing her approach, the man smiled slightly and said, “Our meeting is a sign of fate. Young lady, would you like to buy something?” “What’s this about ‘a meeting is a sign of fate’? He sure knows how to pull the wool over people’s eyes.” The talismans, little paper figures, and amulets this guy was selling seemed designed specifically to attract superstitious old men and women. For young people like her, the only things that might catch their eye were those little figurines—ugly at first glance, but kind of adorably ugly the longer you looked at them. However, Song Jianqiu immediately set her sights on a crouching bronze pi xiu hanging among the keychains. This mythical beast—with the head of a dragon, the body of a horse, the hooves of a qilin, and the appearance of a lion, capable of flight—is said to ward off evil spirits, bring good fortune, and protect the home, making it perfectly suited for her new place. Although the merchant looked a bit suspicious, she figured there probably wouldn’t be any trouble here in broad daylight, with people passing by the lake from time to time. So, after a moment’s hesitation, she asked, “How much is this bronze pi xiu keychain?” “Oh? Do you like this one?” The merchant said, reaching directly onto the wooden rack to take down the bronze pi xiu keychain and hand it to Song Jianqiu, as if he were certain she would buy it. Looking at the keychain he handed her, she hesitated for a moment but took it anyway. Then she heard him name the price: “Five yuan.” Five yuan wasn’t expensive at all—in fact, it was quite a bargain. After all, even at a random street stall, this kind of keychain would cost at least ten yuan! Since it was so cheap—and she thought the palm-sized, crouching bronze Pixiu was actually quite nice, growing on her the more she looked at it—she didn’t hesitate to pull out a hundred-yuan bill. The man accepted the money with a beaming smile. Under Song Jianqiu’s unblinking gaze, he handed her a pile of change. Finally, he added with a smile, “You’re my first customer today, so I have a free gift for you—I’m sure you’ll find it useful.” Having already taken the change, Song Jianqiu wasn’t worried that the man might suddenly raise the price or try to force a sale on her, but she was still somewhat curious about this “freebie” he’d mentioned. She watched as he pulled a strand from a bundle of colorful, thin cords hanging on a wooden rack and handed it to her. “A multicolored jade silkworm cord. I hope you like it.” (End of Chapter)