Dragon Mountain Temple of the Desolate Tombs, Chapter 17: The Origin of the Painted Skin

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On the main street of Shuiwen County, a child of nearly ten walked ahead, followed by two family attendants. This morning, upon waking and not seeing his elder brother Li Xintian, he felt blissfully content, striding forward with an air of utter self-importance.

Of course, despite his swaggering steps, he was not unreasonable or overbearing. If he happened to see a younger child stumble while running, he would reach out to help them up. It could be said that Li Xintian’s guidance had left a mark on him.

“Today I must play the whole day,” Li Shangyun declared, imitating Li Xintian’s habitual gesture with a wave of his hand. “Do you two know where the fun places are?” He felt a secret delight, finally understanding why his elder brother liked to pose in such a manner—it looked so impressive. If Li Xintian were here, a ruler would surely make an appearance. Of all things to learn, why this?

The two attendants, recognizing the gesture that belonged to the eldest young master, immediately drew closer. Had it been Li Qizong or Chen Shuxia, they would have at least called out for a servant or maid.

“Second Young Master, I’ve heard there’s a new opera stage in town. It’s quite lively over there,” one attendant said.

“And where there’s a crowd, there’s bound to be plenty of good food,” added the other.

Li Shangyun, clever beyond his years, grinned. “Seems to me you two just want to watch the show and eat, don’t you?”

The attendants chuckled sheepishly, caught in their intentions.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Lead the way!” Li Shangyun ordered, prompting the attendants to respond promptly, one taking the lead, the other bringing up the rear, with Li Shangyun in the middle.

The trio walked for a while.

“It really is bustling,” Li Shangyun remarked, noticing many street vendors along the way.

“Candied hawthorn…”

“Dumplings…”

“Sugar figurines…”

The air was filled with the cries of various snack sellers.

Li Shangyun promptly bought three sticks of candied hawthorn. In concert with his attendants, the three squatted in a corner, eating with relish.

Suddenly, Li Shangyun sensed the sky darken above him.

“Why are you blocking my way?” he demanded, annoyed to see more members of his household.

“Second Young Master, the eldest young master has instructed you to return home. If you refuse, he says he’ll break your legs,” one attendant, clearly following Li Xintian’s orders, announced.

Li Shangyun shrank his neck, realizing he’d been out for quite some time and that his brother was truly angry. He pouted, “Fine, I understand. Lead the way.”

Before leaving, he bought several more sticks of candied hawthorn to bring back with him.

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Li Residence.

“Big brother,” Li Shangyun greeted, inwardly fearful of his stern elder brother, Li Xintian.

“So? Planning to eat all the candied hawthorn by yourself?” Li Xintian teased with a smile, seeing his younger brother acting sheepish. In truth, he had only called Li Shangyun back out of concern for his safety; as long as he was home safe, that was enough.

“Of course not! I brought these back for you, Father, and Mother,” Li Shangyun replied, offering the candied hawthorn to his brother.

“Good, you’re growing up,” Li Xintian said, patting him on the shoulder and taking the treat. With a wave of his hand, a servant stepped forward. Li Xintian handed the remaining candied hawthorn to the attendant.

“Take these to the master and madam—tell them the second young master brought them back,” he instructed.

The attendant acknowledged and hurried off.

Li Shangyun had thought his secret outing would earn him a beating with a ruler, but nothing happened, much to his relief, though he kept his joy hidden.

“Shangyun, I have three things to tell you today,” Li Xintian said, dismissing the remaining servants and maids so only the two brothers remained.

“What is it, brother?” Li Shangyun asked seriously.

“First, do not neglect the Song of Righteousness.

Second, never commit misdeeds or break the law.

Third, apply yourself diligently to your studies. I’ve sorted out all the books you need—just study those.

For a while, I’ll be away. If anything arises, just send a servant,” Li Xintian said, though he had originally intended to tell his brother about the supernatural entities in their world, he ultimately kept silent.

“Understood, brother.” Li Shangyun agreed to all three. He was already well-versed in the Song of Righteousness, and under Li Xintian’s upbringing, his character and views were upright.

“Good. As for today, let it be. In the future, remember to return home for meals when you go out to play. If you can’t make it, send a servant to inform us,” Li Xintian nodded.

After their conversation, You’er entered, calling the brothers to dinner.

Following You’er, Li Xintian and Li Shangyun walked to the rear garden where Chen Shuxia and Li Qizong were already seated at the table.

“Father, Mother,” the two brothers greeted in unison.

Li Qizong nodded, and Chen Shuxia added, “Sit down.”

“Tian’er, I don’t object to you going out, but when you’re away, always remember to protect yourself. Trust yourself above all, and don’t be reckless,” Li Qizong advised. Before coming, Chen Shuxia had spoken to him. He had once considered finding a wife for Li Xintian soon, but with Chen Shuxia’s support all these years, he said no more, giving only a few words of guidance instead.

“Yes, Father,” Li Xintian replied solemnly.

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“Let’s eat,” Chen Shuxia said, giving Li Xintian a meaningful glance, indicating confidence in her son’s abilities.

Li Xintian looked gratefully at Chen Shuxia. Without her support over the years, he would have faced endless obstacles, for Li Qizong’s views were rather old-fashioned.

Li Qizong, of course, saw the deep bond between mother and son.

Throughout dinner, Li Xintian frequently served dishes to his parents.

“Yun’er, you’ve matured today and shown your filial piety,” Chen Shuxia remarked after the meal. Li Xintian had already excused himself, leaving Li Shangyun to talk with their parents.

In Li Xintian’s room.

He took out the painted skin and touched it. It was soft, highly resilient, not quite like human skin, yet not clearly of any other material.

Li Xintian began to study it carefully. It seemed that something was recorded on the painted skin, but his aura of righteousness suppressed it, preventing it from manifesting.

He withdrew the characters he had written upon it with his righteous energy.

Images began to appear on the painted skin. The first was a vague, mist-shrouded mountain, black in color and perpetually cloaked in clouds.

Unable to discern its significance, Li Xintian moved on to the second image, which was longer. It depicted a mountain fiend—its mouth bearing four sharp fangs, its eyes large and protruding, its hair a fiery red. Its gender was indiscernible.

The mountain fiend, inside a cave, unearthed a piece of human skin—the very painted skin Li Xintian now held. At first, the fiend did not know how to use it and merely used it as a disguise, transforming into a human and entering human society.

After hearing countless storytellers recounting tales of gods, ghosts, and monsters, the fiend grew ambitious, desiring to feed on human essence and blood, to steal hearts to increase its power, and began to study human painting techniques.

Returning to its cave, the fiend shed the human skin and painted upon it the form of a stunning beauty with a graceful figure.

From that time on, wherever scholars traveled—especially those on their way to imperial examinations—the fiend would seduce them, leading them to their doom, draining their essence and blood, and even extracting their hearts.

As the deaths mounted, investigators found a common thread: each victim had experienced pleasure before death, suggesting a woman was responsible.

At this, the monks of Longshan Temple learned of a demoness who seduced and killed men, draining their essence and blood and stealing hearts. The abbot sent several monks to deal with her, but all fell victim, their energy feeding the fiend and emboldening her to assault the temple itself, where each monk was worth two scholars.

The abbot finally intervened, and after a fierce struggle, managed to destroy the mountain fiend. He ordered the painted skin to be sealed away, never to be lost again. The very next day, the abbot passed away. With his death, the temple fell into decline and was eventually abandoned.

“So that’s the story behind the painted skin’s name,” Li Xintian mused after viewing the second image. “Who would have thought such monsters, upon obtaining it, would choose evil—feeding on blood and essence, and taking hearts to increase their power.”