Chapter Seventeen: Lord Fat

“So it turns out the lamp on your shoulder is out, Yezi. Fatty, you really have a discerning eye. Since you've figured it out, why not light it for him?” said Chen Qingshan.

“You think it's an oil lamp, just light it up and that's that? As the saying goes, when the immortals close their eyes, the evil spirits snuff out the lamps. The one who blows out your lamp is an evil spirit; how could it be so simple? Brother King of Thieves, if Fatty hasn't guessed wrong, your lamp has been out for twenty years. Judging by your age, you must be twenty-three now. That means something scared you terribly when you were three. To put it plainly, you saw a ghost. Did Fatty guess wrong?” Fatty looked at me as he spoke.

I squinted at him. Though my face remained calm, a tempest raged within me. I had heard the old saying when walking at night, never look back, for the ghost behind you will blow out your lamp. But this was the first time anyone had ever told me a lamp on my left shoulder had gone out. If you said Fatty was talking nonsense, then his explanation for why my lamp had gone out was spot on.

What happened when I was three was a secret only my family and Chen Shitou knew, yet he had pierced straight to the heart of it—that I had experienced something supernatural that year.

“Yezi, Fatty is asking you something,” Chen Qingshan nudged me gently.

It was only then that I snapped out of my reverie. I smiled awkwardly at Fatty and said, “Three years old? At that age I was still a little brat with no memory of anything. You’ll have to wait for me to ask my family.”

Fatty gave me a meaningful look but didn’t argue. “Everyone has secrets they’d rather not share. If you don’t want to talk, Fatty won’t force you. But without your story, I can’t light your lamp. Village Chief, tell us: what’s been going on in the village?”

Chen Qingshan had been interrupted by Fatty twice, and to my surprise, he held his tongue. That was unlike him—normally, his word was law in the village. In this patch of land called Fudigou, what he said was as good as imperial decree.

Chen Qingshan proceeded to recount the story of the Fool—how the boy had been found, how he died, the disturbances after his death, and the recent events. He told everything he knew and what the villagers knew. But things like the child in the Fool’s belly or his corpse being dragged by a hand from the stone coffin, Chen Qingshan knew nothing about, so he didn’t mention them. To be honest, if Fatty hadn’t been introduced by Tang Renjie and didn’t look like some gangster layabout, I might have been so cowed by his words earlier that I’d spill everything I knew in hopes he could help. But because of my initial impression, I just didn’t trust him and kept my silence.

When Fatty finished listening, he reached for an orange on the table, but there were none left. He settled for a few sunflower seeds, cracking them as he spoke, “Village Chief, no offense, but what you just said was utter nonsense.”

Chen Qingshan’s face went from green to white, but he managed to force a smile uglier than a sob. “Fatty, what do you mean by that?”

“The Fool came back for Chen Shitou’s life—why wouldn’t he take it himself? Then Old Judge Wang drowned herself in the river, and you say that was the Fool’s doing. But if he couldn’t even claim a mortal’s life, how could he kill a judge?” Fatty was blunt and to the point.

“I… I never thought about that,” Chen Qingshan scratched his head.

“Probably because you and the villagers just pass rumors around without thinking. People, sometimes they have everything except brains,” Fatty pointed at Chen Qingshan.

“You saying I have no brains?” Chen Qingshan jabbed at himself. His good temper finally wore thin under Fatty’s sharp tongue. I nearly burst out laughing; in all the years I’d known Chen Qingshan, I’d never seen anyone speak to him like that.

“And do you think you do?” Fatty raised a brow.

Seeing Chen Qingshan’s face turn green, I actually found myself curious about this Fatty. Maybe I was overthinking—what if he really could solve our problem? I tugged at Chen Qingshan. “Village Chief, don’t be angry. I can see Fatty just speaks straightforwardly—this is the bearing of a true expert. What’s the use of flowery words? If he were full of empty talk, how would he differ from ordinary people like us?”

“What do you mean by that? Are you saying he’s right, I have no brains?” I meant to mediate, but my words landed wrong, and Chen Qingshan bristled at once.

“That’s not what I meant. The point is, we need to solve this problem, don’t we?” I quickly shot Chen Qingshan a look. He managed to restrain himself, more patient than a turtle, then forced a smile and said to Fatty, “Fatty, then we who are lacking in brains will rely on your wisdom. If Old Wang wasn’t killed by the Fool, then how did she die?”

“How should I know?” Fatty spat out a sunflower seed husk.

Chen Qingshan’s face darkened instantly, and I nearly choked on my water.

“Just call her spirit and ask her, isn’t that simple?” Fatty said breezily, and his words left both Chen Qingshan and me at a loss—was he serious, or just boasting?

“What’s with those looks? Is that so hard? By your accounts, Old Wang was a judge, so she must have some power. Ordinary people’s souls go to the cycle of rebirth when they die, but judges’ souls stay with the local City God for a while as a reward for keeping order in the human world. It’s easy to have a chat with one. Besides, before Old Wang died, she said she’d judged wrong. When judges err, it’s the City God who holds them accountable, so it’ll all come out with a single question,” Fatty scoffed.

“City God?” Chen Qingshan asked.

“A minor official in the underworld, like a county magistrate,” Fatty said offhandedly.

“Then Fatty, please show us your skills,” I nudged Chen Qingshan.

“Fine. If I don’t show you, you won’t know Fatty’s real abilities. Let’s go to Old Wang’s house and find something she left behind. I’ll call her out to talk with you.” Fatty finished the last of the snacks Chen Qingshan had prepared, dusted himself off, and stood up, ready for us to lead the way.

Curiosity piqued by this point, both of us got up and took him to the neighboring Wang Family Village to Old Wang’s house. Though Old Wang was gone, her daughter-in-law was still there, known as a local shaman. Six months after Old Wang died, her daughter-in-law announced she was coming out of seclusion, claiming Old Wang had left a final message: “I judged wrongly and am doomed; I pass my mantle to you.”

When we arrived, Old Wang’s daughter-in-law was already in her forties or fifties. The house was full of deities’ images, the layout much as it had been when Old Wang was alive. Her daughter-in-law’s surname was He, nicknamed He Fairy—a much more famous title than Old Wang’s. We knew her well, of course. When she saw us, her face darkened. “Well, what wind blew you two here today?”

I immediately knew why: a few days ago, when we did the ritual at the Fool’s grave, Chen Qingshan had hired an outsider priest instead of her. She was still angry, but Chen Qingshan had told me he’d been afraid of inviting trouble to her family—after all, hadn’t Old Wang herself died because of the Fool?

On our way, I had told Fatty about this. When He Fairy greeted us with a sour face, before either Chen Qingshan or I could speak, Fatty said, “Not much skill, but plenty of temper. All your tricks these years depend on Old Wang’s leftover virtue. If you’d been called to handle that business, you’d probably be keeping your mother-in-law company in the afterlife by now.”

Fatty’s mouth really had no mercy. He Fairy’s face turned green at once. She jabbed a finger at him. “Who the hell are you? Talking such nonsense!”

“Where Fatty comes from is none of your business—hearing it might scare you to death. As for whether I’m talking nonsense, you know yourself. Don’t get all worked up. Fatty isn’t interested in exposing you. Just go fetch something your mother-in-law left behind. I need to summon her spirit for a question or two.” Fatty waved his hand dismissively.

“You’ve got nerve! Summon a spirit? Fine, wait here. If you fail, you’ll kneel and kowtow to me three times!” He Fairy, thoroughly provoked, stomped into the inner room and soon returned with a silver bracelet, tarnished nearly black with age and grime.

Fatty took it. He Fairy said, “Aren’t you afraid I just grabbed any old thing to fool you?”

Fatty shot her a look. “You think Fatty’s that easy to trick?”

Holding the bracelet, Fatty picked one of the many deity statues from He Fairy’s altar—apparently the City God he’d mentioned. He placed the bracelet before the statue, lit three sticks of incense, and stuck them in the censer. Then he turned to He Fairy, “Close the door, shut the windows, light the candles. Don’t you know the basics? What kind of judge are you?”