Fortune 019: Signs of Death

As a gay man, Nan Shi was feeling quite hopeless—especially when Guo Xingxian insisted on taking a shower.

“I’m gay, you know! Can’t you be a little more careful?” Nan Shi couldn’t stand it any longer, holding the showerhead as he spoke. “Aren’t you worried about your own behind?”

Guo Xingxian sank into the hot water, wishing he could submerge his head entirely. “So does that mean I look like a world-class beauty to you? Does watching me bathe make you hard as steel?”

He struck a classic bodybuilder pose, showing off his eight-pack abs and well-defined obliques.

“…Thinking too much is a sickness.”

“Well, that settles it, Master Nan—mind scrubbing my back for me?” Guo Xingxian requested cheerfully. “Wash my hair twice, thanks!”

Nan Shi spitefully aimed the showerhead directly at his head. “Shut it!”

Perhaps thanks to Guo Xingxian’s regular gym regimen, once the spirit’s wrath had receded, the effects of the ordeal faded quickly. After a late-night snack of instant noodles and sausages, he was back to normal—one would never have guessed he’d had a high fever only an hour before.

If Nan Shi had a death wish and picked a fight now, he’d likely end up plastered to the wall, impossible to pry loose.

The kind of plastering that called for censorship mosaics.

There were still two hours before dawn, but neither of them felt like sleeping again. Instead, they sat in the living room, watching TV.

Nan Shi picked at his toes and asked, “When you came back to make offerings to your godfather before, what did you usually bring?”

“Candles, fruit, cakes, and then two sticks of incense.” Guo Xingxian’s eyes wandered from the television. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lit one for himself, then offered one to Nan Shi. “Want one?”

He’d been a little delirious during the fever, but he was certain he’d heard Nan Shi mutter some request. And after Nan Shi finished, the oppressive feeling on his body vanished—it hadn’t been his imagination.

Nan Shi took the cigarette, lit it, and took a long drag, letting the smoke fill his lungs. He was more than familiar with Guo Xingxian’s shattered worldview. “No way. Do you have any spirit money at home? If money makes the ghost turn the mill, then surely money can make the mill turn the ghost. The same should go for spirits.”

Guo Xingxian muttered, “Aren’t spirits technically monsters? Would they use spirit money like ghosts?”

Nan Shi actually found that made sense. Still, better to be overcautious than to risk disrespect. “Burning actual money is illegal… Let’s just burn a little spirit money. It’s the thought that counts.”

“Yeah, you wait—I’ll go look for some…” Guo Xingxian started rummaging through boxes and drawers, calling out midway, “There’s some cakes and fruit in my suitcase—check if we can use them.”

Nan Shi gave a muffled acknowledgment and opened the suitcase. At the sight of the offerings, he suddenly felt Guo Xingxian’s godfather was truly forgiving: look at what he’d brought!

Cakes: Panpan mini buns, Taoli custard bread, salted egg pastries.

Fruits: canned yellow peaches, canned pears, canned apples.

Oh—and the yellow peaches can was half-eaten. Nan Shi remembered, he’d had a couple of pieces himself.

And on closer inspection, all the little breads were near expiration—just over ten days left.

“There’s no spirit money. What now?” Guo Xingxian called from the closet as he unearthed a bag of candles and incense.

Nan Shi raked a hand through his hair, feeling a headache coming on. “Come here a second… You really planned to offer all this to your godfather?”

Guo Xingxian glanced at him. “What else? Fresh cakes and fruit don’t keep and are hard to carry. Vacuum-packed stuff is fine, right? You can’t eat them afterwards, what with all the ash and dirt. And since they’ll expire soon, it’s not a waste to throw them out.”

You could eat the offerings after making them! Some even believe eating them brings blessings from the spirits (or ancestors)!

“…,” Nan Shi patted Guo Xingxian’s head, as if comforting a misbehaving puppy. “Good boy, go have your lollipop.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, with how well your godfather treats you, maybe you should just marry him.” Nan Shi imagined what would happen if he dared offer his senior brother such perfunctory gifts—it’d probably end with his sudden and utter disintegration.

Guo Xingxian gave Nan Shi a look of absolute disbelief. “…Nan Shi, what is wrong with you?!”

Nan Shi glanced out at the lightening sky. “It’s almost four. Are there any early risers in your village? Go ask if they have any… There must be some breakfast shops, right? Even two pork buns would be more respectful than this.”

He added, a little afraid Guo Xingxian would take it literally and buy only two, “No, here’s what we’ll do: I’ll buy the buns, you go get spirit money and fruit. Meet at the village entrance.”

“Deal.” Guo Xingxian sent Nan Shi two location pins—it was fortunate Lingnan Village wasn’t completely isolated from the world: it had the necessary amenities, just a bit far away. Nan Shi hailed a taxi to the morning market and found a funeral supplies store just opening up. He waited for the owner, then bought a huge bundle of all kinds of spirit money for three hundred yuan. He’d thought about buying two paper maidservants as well, but recalled Qing He’s warning about their ominous symbolism and decided against it.

By the time the sky brightened, Nan Shi and Guo Xingxian met up. Guo Xingxian also had a big bag of fruit and spirit money and, surprisingly, several giant steamed buns. The buns’ centers were marked with red dots in the shape of plums—just what one would use for a wedding.

Noticing Nan Shi’s puzzlement, Guo Xingxian explained, “The neighbor’s family is holding a celebration—they made these. When they heard I was going to make offerings to the Apricot Immortal, they added festive dots for me.”

Guo Xingxian had even borrowed two electric scooters, making things much more convenient. Nan Shi hopped on the back, arms full of bags, and reminded him, “Guo’er, take the small paths. If we use the main road, we might get stopped and fined by the police.”

“It’s barely dawn, there are no police,” Guo Xingxian retorted. They bickered for a while. Soon after leaving, Nan Shi caught sight of a building surrounded by red walls—a perfect square, with a great tree standing tall in the center. Its crown was ablaze with fantastical blood-red blossoms, so dense they made the heart leap at the sight.

And note: it was December!

The early sun glimmered faintly from behind a cloud, casting gentle gold across the blood-red crown. The effect was both beautiful and eerily captivating.

Nan Shi swallowed nervously, reluctant to go in. “Guo’er, do your godfather’s flowers always bloom like this? It’s January right now.”

Guo Xingxian parked, took the things from Nan Shi, and glanced up at the flowers as though it were nothing unusual. “Yeah, my god… godfather’s flowers always bloom in January. Every time I come home, they’re blossoming.”

“Once the day is fully bright, it’ll look even better,” Guo Xingxian said. “But at night… it can be a bit terrif—”

He never finished; Nan Shi elbowed him in the chest. “Shut it, you’re right at your godfather’s door! Upper Immortal’s flowers—magnificent, unrivaled.”

Guo Xingxian fell silent. He wanted to mock Nan Shi’s timidity, but after last night, he didn’t dare.

They entered together. The apricot tree was enormous, at least ten meters tall, with a gnarled trunk. Vines hung from its branches, some dead and withered, others lush and green. The tree was fenced off, and near its base stood a great incense burner and altar. The incense burner was filled with ash and old incense sticks—clearly, it saw regular use.

Nan Shi stepped forward and began stacking the cakes and fruit in a pyramid, set up the candles, and pulled Guo Xingxian over to kneel. He wasn’t stingy—once Guo Xingxian knelt, Nan Shi knelt too, lighting two incense sticks and handing one bundle to Guo Xingxian. “Respected Apricot Immortal, I bring Guo’er to kneel and apologize. This little rascal doesn’t know better, disrespecting ranks and elders—please, considering his youth, forgive him this once.”

He remembered how the villagers addressed Guo Xingxian, most likely out of caution to avoid names clashing with the apricot spirit, so he used the same title.

“I’ll let his parents know and have them give the boy a proper lesson.”

When Nan Shi finished, he turned to Guo Xingxian. “What are you spacing out for? Bow your head, apologize!”

Barring the ceremony when he was a child, Guo Xingxian had never actually knelt before this tree. He gave three bows and tried to get up to burn incense, but Nan Shi pressed his neck firmly, forcing another six bows to make a lucky nine before finally letting him get up to offer the incense.

Guo Xingxian finished and started stuffing spirit money into the burner, but despite flicking his lighter over and over, the paper would not catch. A red line appeared along the edge of the silver, burning painfully slowly, but no flame emerged.

He tried again and again: each time it seemed to start burning, but once tossed into the burner, the sheet remained untouched.

Nan Shi, seeing this, tugged him back to kneel in front of the altar. “Go admit your wrongdoing properly. I’ll handle this.”

Guo Xingxian murmured, “…I already bowed, isn’t that enough?”

“Can’t you say something auspicious?”

“…Fine.” Guo Xingxian knelt, softly muttering who knew what, as Nan Shi picked up a silver ingot, waiting until Guo Xingxian finished. Then he struck the lighter.

Click.

This time it caught.

The flame leapt up at once and, as it landed in the incense burner, burst into a roaring blaze, filling the whole container. Nan Shi let out a breath of relief—fortunately, he’d guessed right: this was indeed a forgiving spirit.

When all the spirit money had burned to ash, Nan Shi motioned for Guo Xingxian to rise.

They bowed once more to the tree before departing.

As they left, Guo Xingxian asked quietly, “Did it really only light after I apologized? Isn’t that a bit… much?”

“Your godfather is good-natured. Remember to show him respect,” Nan Shi replied.

As they crossed the threshold, Nan Shi felt a sudden impulse. He turned to look back at the apricot tree—and saw, beneath the branches, a tall, red-robed beauty watching their retreating backs thoughtfully. As Nan Shi glanced over, the figure smiled at him—calm and unhurried.

God, that looked exactly like a vengeful ghost in red.

Nan Shi shivered, managing only an awkward but polite smile, then quickly looked away and walked off after Guo Xingxian.

“What were you looking at just now?” Guo Xingxian asked.

“Nothing, just looking around.” No way he could say he’d just seen Guo Xingxian’s godfather.

With this matter resolved, Guo Xingxian seemed much more relaxed. He brought Nan Shi to return the scooter; when they reached the neighbor’s doorstep, they found two men hanging white lanterns at the door. Nan Shi was puzzled, “Didn’t you say the neighbors were having a celebration?”

“That’s what they told me…” Guo Xingxian echoed his confusion.

The neighbor’s father saw Guo Xingxian and came out to greet him. “Xian’er, returning the scooter?”

“Thanks, Uncle…” Guo Xingxian hesitated, then asked, “Didn’t you say your family was celebrating? Why the lanterns…?”

The man glanced at the black cloth looped around his sleeve. “Oh, it’s a bit complicated…”

He took a furtive look around, then lowered his voice. “My wife’s younger brother passed—he hasn’t been in good health for a while. My father-in-law found someone for him—since he died unmarried, they arranged a wedding for him, so the newlyweds can go to the afterlife together. Both ceremonies were held at once.”

“And let me tell you, the bride… well, no doubt she was purchased from somewhere, but since it’s my in-laws’ business, I keep quiet about it. Keep this to yourself!”

Guo Xingxian frowned and nodded quickly. “I understand, Uncle, you go ahead with your work.”

He pressed two thousand yuan into the man’s hand. “Please help my family with the house again—air it out, keep it clean. My friend and I will be heading back to the city soon.”

“No problem at all!”

Nan Shi, standing aside, studied the man’s face.

He bore the marks of death.

Nan Shi’s gaze passed over him, then Guo Xingxian, and fell upon the other man still on the ladder hanging lanterns, and the woman carrying a tray of steamed buns from inside.

All of them—wore the signs of death.