"Gu! Gu! Gu!"
"Mr. Gu!"
A hurried voice rang out from the elderly man holding a brass smoking pipe.
Seeing his anxious expression, Gu Ning'an smiled and replied, "Butcher Liu, it's indeed me. Have you finally recognized me?"
Tsk! Tsk! Tsk!
The old man raised his pipe and took several forceful draws, only to realize he hadn't even lit it.
After taking a deep breath, he steadied himself, though the hand holding the pipe trembled slightly. Fixing his gaze on Gu Ning'an, he lowered his voice and asked, "Mr. Gu... are you a human or a ghost?"
Whoosh!
The crowd of neighbors, who had been tightly packed together, instantly scattered in all directions, leaving only the old man and a slightly plump middle-aged woman standing in front of Gu Ning'an.
Before Gu Ning'an could respond, the woman pointed at his shadow and said, "Elder Liu, what nonsense are you spouting... Mr. Gu is obviously human. Ghosts don't cast shadows!"
Gu Ning'an studied the middle-aged woman for a moment, then paused and said, "You're Carpenter Zhao's youngest daughter, Zhao Liu, aren't you?"
"Mr. Gu remembers me?" she asked, astonished.
Gu Ning'an nodded. "Of course, I remember. When I bought a table and chairs from your father, I was short by two qian of silver. You pleaded with him to give me a discount."
"Right, right, right! Back then, my father scolded me for favoring an outsider…" Zhao Liu's tone shifted, tinged with nostalgia. "To think over twenty years have passed, and you still look the same as you did back then..."
Gu Ning'an didn't dwell on the matter of his unchanged appearance. Instead, he smiled and asked, "How is your father doing?"
"My father's still quite healthy. He's always shouting about wanting to work with wood, and we can't stop him."
"That's good to hear. I'll visit him soon," Gu Ning'an said.
"Great! I'll let him know. He still talks about you from time to time…" Zhao Liu's demeanor at this moment was nothing like that of a middle-aged woman. She more closely resembled the shy, stammering young girl who used to blush while speaking with Gu Ning'an.
"Oh? Is he still talking about the two qian of silver?" Gu Ning'an teased.
Zhao Liu nodded helplessly. "You've guessed it right."
"Well, we'll have plenty of time to reminisce later. For now, I need to buy some supplies." With that, Gu Ning'an glanced at the still-wary Butcher Liu and said with a wry smile, "Don't worry, I don't eat people."
Hearing this, Butcher Liu forced a laugh and said, "Ah, Mr. Gu, you're extraordinary. This old man is just getting on in years and scares as easily as a mouse... Please don't take offense."
Sigh.
Letting out a long sigh, Gu Ning'an nodded at the neighbors, who were still clearly uneasy, then turned and walked away.
Once he was out of sight, the neighbors who had scattered earlier began to regroup.
They surrounded Zhao Liu and Butcher Liu, peppering them with questions.
Zhao Liu didn't want to say much and simply left them with, "Mr. Gu is a good man," before departing in a hurry.
This left Butcher Liu as the sole target of the crowd's relentless questioning.
Unable to withstand the barrage of inquiries, Butcher Liu finally spilled the shocking truth: Gu Ning'an had looked exactly the same over twenty years ago.
Upon hearing such an astonishing revelation, the crowd suddenly understood why Butcher Liu had initially asked, "Are you a human or a ghost?"
In no time, the neighbors began to voice their varied opinions again.
Some argued that Gu Ning'an must be a ghost; others insisted he wasn't. Some marveled at how someone so handsome seemed almost otherworldly, while still others suggested they pack up and move out of the area immediately, regardless of whether he was human or ghost.
"Enough! Enough! Stop gossiping behind people's backs!" The burly woman, known as Tiao Langshi, slammed her broom onto the ground and yelled at the gathered neighbors. "Zhao Liu already said it—ghosts don't have shadows, and Mr. Gu clearly does."
"Even if we take the most unlikely scenario, when have you ever seen a ghost appear in broad daylight and behave so courteously?"
"Zhang Biao, you said Mr. Gu is so handsome that he doesn't look human. Why don't you admit you're so ugly you wouldn't even scare a ghost?"
"And you, boy from the Qian family, talking about moving away—do you even have the money to move? You're so stingy you'd split a single coin in half to spend it, and here you are spouting nonsense about relocating. Don't you feel any shame?"
"Honestly, if you're all so free, why not learn from Lei Ben and help me sweep the streets?"
Tiao Langshi's sharp comments left the neighbors speechless. One by one, they dispersed.
"Humph, Mr. Gu has an extraordinary presence—where's the ghostliness in that? He hasn't aged a day in over twenty years. If anything, he's more like an immortal!" she exclaimed. Then, glancing at Lei Ben, who was vigorously sweeping a pile of weeds, she called out loudly, "Lei Ben, don't you agree?"
Lei Ben immediately stopped his work and replied, "Aunt, I like fuller-figured women!"
Tiao Langshi: ...
...
After some delay at his doorstep, Gu Ning'an didn't arrive at the morning market until the hour of Chen (around 7–9 AM).
Having come down from the mountain without a single coin to his name, Gu Ning'an was determined to pay back the debt he owed Granny Sun for the "mutton soup" he had purchased on credit. With that in mind, he decided to set up a stall at the morning market to practice his old trade of calligraphy and fortune-telling to earn some silver.
However, as he was late, the only spot he could find was a small, inconspicuous corner of the market.
Fortunately, the limited space didn't bother him—after all, he had come empty-handed and didn't need much room.
Sitting cross-legged on the ground, Gu Ning'an picked up a broken piece of stone and wrote two bold lines on the dirt beside him:
[Calligraphy: Bring your own ink and paper.]
[Fortune-telling: Pay what you will.]
A nearby peddler selling rattle-drums noticed and gave Gu Ning'an a thumbs-up. "Scholar, you've got quite the business setup—truly no-cost and all-profit."
"By the way, calligraphy and fortune-telling are two entirely different trades. What exactly are you doing here?"
"Are you a scholar or a Daoist priest?"
Gu Ning'an merely smiled faintly and didn't answer.
Seeing that, the rattle-drum seller didn't push further. He picked up a drum in each hand and started shaking them enthusiastically to attract children passing by.
Time passed slowly. Despite his remote spot, most nearby stalls managed to make a sale or two, except for Gu Ning'an's. Not a single person approached him.
"Scholar, maybe you should come better prepared before setting up a stall. Who's going to bring their own ink and paper for you to write?"
"And fortune-telling? Dressed like this, who would trust you to tell their fortune?"
"If you want to run a business, you at least need to have proper tools, right?"
The rattle-drum seller couldn't help but comment again after seeing how poorly Gu Ning'an's stall was doing.
Hearing the goodwill in his tone, Gu Ning'an opened his eyes and smiled. "Business cannot be rushed. If there's no business today, I'll just come back tomorrow."
"You—" The peddler sighed in exasperation, as if disappointed by Gu Ning'an's attitude. Finally, he said, "How about this: I'm heading home to eat. Watch my stall for me, and I'll give you 30% of whatever you sell. Deal?"
The rattle-drums sold for ten wen each, which meant Gu Ning'an would earn three wen per sale. Considering the cost, this was essentially a 50-50 split with the seller—a clear sign the man was just trying to help him out.
"Go ahead, I'll watch your stall for you," Gu Ning'an said with a nod.
The rattle-drum seller grinned, quickly explained the pricing, and then dashed off toward home.