Chapter 69.2: Walking the Shade

There was nothing in the books by Wei Zhengdao that explained “walking the shade” in detail.

It must’ve been such a basic subject that Wei Zhengdao couldn’t be bothered to mention it. And yet, it was exactly what Li Zhuiyuan didn’t know.

It was like he could solve advanced equations but didn’t know how to do addition or subtraction.

He could use it, sure—because even though he didn’t know what “plus” or “minus” meant, he’d memorized the answers to the basic arithmetic.

That’s also why he frequently overexerted himself and ended up with nosebleeds. His body was still young and underdeveloped, true, but the real issue was that his calculations always started from overload.

“You’re Yuan-ge, right?”

The old man’s attitude toward Li Zhuiyuan was clearly different—he even added a respectful term to the end of the name, unlike how he’d casually called Tan Wenbin a dumb kid.

“Yeah,” Li Zhuiyuan responded. “Hello.”

“Yin Fu Hai, associate of the Fengdu dock. I wonder, Yuan-ge, which dock you’re affiliated with, or which Dragon King you serve?”

As he spoke, the old man performed a series of gestures used by people on the river.

Not every profession developed secret slang and signals, but this sort of identity exchange existed precisely to avoid conflict and settle disputes.

Another group known for this kind of signaling? Bandits.

The term “dock” meant local turf. “Associate” implied he was just one of many—not the boss. And the “Dragon King” referred to the major powers on the river.

Li Zhuiyuan had barely interacted with legit peers in the trade. He could only deduce the meaning from the words themselves.

But he didn’t know how to respond. What rank did his own great-grandfather hold?

An associate of the Nantong Hao River dock?

But in truth, his great-grandfather lived far from the Hao River in the city center. And more importantly, no one had ever taught him the local hand signs. He couldn’t just mimic the gestures and risk getting it wrong.

Really, it was Great-Grandpa’s fault for being so unreliable. Now his great-grandson didn’t even know how to declare his own household on the road.

By comparison, Runsheng’s Grandpa Shan probably understood this stuff—but he never used those forms with Great-Grandpa. Maybe he didn’t consider Li Sanjiang a real colleague at all.

What Li Zhuiyuan did know were the inner salutations of the Qin and Liu clans. But that wasn’t really appropriate here.

Yet when the boy didn’t return the gesture, the old man took offense. His tone hardened.

“So you look down on a Fengdu dock associate like me, but you’re still staying in my house?”

Li Zhuiyuan had no choice but to return a formal Liu clan inner salute.

Returning that gesture meant he didn’t need to announce his affiliation with words.

The old man clearly recognized it. The moment he saw the salute, his entire figure flickered transparent.

That was how badly it startled him—he nearly lost his walking-the-shade state.

Even the body lying paralyzed in the coffin might’ve twitched from the shock.

It took the old man a long while to collect himself. When he finally spoke, the anger in his voice was gone, replaced by something deferential.

“A Liu family guest… it’s been years. A rare honor indeed. How wonderful—it’s been so long since the Liu family walked the river again.”

There was no sycophancy in the old man’s deference. It was genuine.

“You know the Liu family?” Li Zhuiyuan asked.

“Any old turtle that’s been around the river long enough has heard of them.”

“I mean… you know they’re gone?”

“I know,” the old man said plainly. “That’s exactly why I respect them all the more.”

“I’m not a Liu by blood.”

“An outer disciple by name?”

“Yeah.”

Back at that dinner party in Shan City, Grandma Liu had pushed him forward to return a salute. He hadn’t formally entered the clan yet, but it was understood—once A’Li’s illness healed, he’d become a registered disciple.

“Same difference. Esteemed guest, forgive this old man for being unable to serve you properly in person.”

“No need to stand on ceremony. I’ll call you Grandpa, and you call me Little Yuan. That way, we’re both comfortable.”

“Esteemed gue—ah, I mean, Little Yuan-ge, are you a friend of my granddaughter Mengmeng?”

“Kind of. But I’m here to repay a debt from the underworld.”

“An ancestor, eh? I see… then your seniority must be quite high.”

“You’re not running the shop tonight?”

“Oh, I am, I am.”

The old man walked to the shop’s front entrance. Yin Meng had sealed the door earlier in the evening, replacing the board. Instead of removing it, the old man placed his hand on a mirror embedded in the wall and turned it gently.

The thick board gradually turned translucent.

Li Zhuiyuan and Tan Wenbin both saw it. Outside, on a street that should’ve been silent in the dead of night, black shadows were walking to and fro.

Among the dark figures, a few stood out in bright contrast.

Those had to be the living—two drunks with arms around each other, and a couple of loners walking alone.

This was why, if you had nothing to do late at night, you really shouldn’t wander the empty streets. What was “empty” might be far more crowded than it seemed.

The old man settled back behind the counter, looking like he was waiting for customers.

Tan Wenbin stood at the corner of the counter, cautiously peeking at the “passersby” outside.

Li Zhuiyuan took a seat across from the old man.

“This ghost street—is that what makes it special?”

“I’ve heard of similar places in other regions, but I’ve never been. As for something like our Fengdu Ghost Street, there aren’t many.”

“Are they… ghosts?”

“Yes and no. Every Ghost Festival, they come out to walk the streets.”

Tan Wenbin asked, “You’ve never caught one to study?”

The old man quickly waved his hands. “Guests are guests. This isn’t some shady black-market shop.”

Just then, one of the shadowy figures stepped inside. His shape was blurred, indistinct—just barely human.

He stood before the counter. The old man murmured quietly to him, words Li Zhuiyuan couldn’t catch.

A moment later, the shadow left. At the doorway, he dropped a piece of currency into the water vat.

As it hit the surface, the money dissolved into black ash.

The old man smiled and stroked his beard.

Only now did Li Zhuiyuan understand what the water vats outside every shop were for.

But apparently, Yin Meng didn’t know that herself. She’d been spreading a misinformed version.

“What are they buying?” Li Zhuiyuan asked.

The old man smiled. “Lifespan.”

“Hm?”

“If I could still move, I could make a few things to sell tonight. Maybe help fulfill some wishes. But now, all I can do is sit here walking the shade—useless in every way. The only thing I’ve got left to sell is my remaining lifespan.

“I’m paralyzed, but there’s still a long stretch of time left in me. And every day I keep living is another day I’m dragging Mengmeng down.

“Better to trade these burdensome days for some merit to pass on to her.

“She’s a good girl, just too proud. Staying here for my sake in this coffin shop—it’s not worth it. She’s wasting her best years.”

The old man’s affection for his granddaughter reminded Li Zhuiyuan of his own great-grandfather.

“How much can you sell?”

“Not much. If they had great virtue, they wouldn’t be roaming around as lonely ghosts.”

“True enough.”

“But every bit helps. Even a mosquito’s leg is still meat.”

Li Zhuiyuan pointed toward the inner room. “You’re not calling for Yin Meng?”

“She won’t wake. Not everyone can walk the shade. She can’t.”

Next Chapter >>>