Chapter 79: Genuine or Fake

Ming Zhuo had never really noticed other people's scents before.

Back when Ming Han was still alive, the Divine Palace often burned an incense called "Baoluo."(1) This Baoluo incense was a secret scent from the Western Xikui Mountain, capable of pleasing the gods when burned. Ming Han often used this incense to calm the restless Hui Mang. Ming Zhuo didn't dislike the scent because his mother had it, but he didn't particularly like it either because smelling it would remind him of old memories from the Divine Palace.

The smell of Luo Xu was very different from the Baoluo incense. It didn't resemble incense at all; it was light and faint, easy to overlook if not carefully noticed. Ming Zhuo was particularly sensitive because he was often in close quarters with Prime Minister Hua and had never encountered a scent like this before. Now, the scent was all over his sleeves, collar, and even his entire body, as if his territory had been invaded, and he wasn't quite used to it yet.

"You smell just like your clothes," Ming Zhuo lightly touched his nose to him, following that faint scent to Luo Xu’s face. "A bit better than Prime Minister Hua."

He was completely unaware, not caring at all what this posture implied. His nose gently brushed across Luo Xu’s front, as if he was quite satisfied with the smell.

Luo Xu drawled, "So I only smell a 'bit' better than Prime Minister Hua?"

"Prime Minister Hua licks itself eight hundred times a day," Ming Zhuo said. "Do you want to compare yourself to that?"

Luo Xu recalled the taste of Prime Minister Hua’s saliva when it licked its face, making no comment. He looked at Ming Zhuo and said, "You're asking me to dig up a grave now, but I don't even know where Ming Han is buried.”

"It's easy to find," Ming Zhuo's amber eyes avoided the light, appearing darker than usual. He straightened up and said, "There are three Zhenxiong Towers outside the capital of Peidu. Ming Han is buried beneath them."(2)

There are three Zhenxiong Towers, but only one Ming Han. Ming Zhuo didn't specify which tower he was buried under, implying a possibility: all three towers have a part of Ming Han's remains.

"Since he was already dismembered when he was buried," Luo Xu said tactfully, "according to common sense, there's absolutely no way he could come back to life."

The Zhenxiong Towers were structures engraved with talismans to suppress evil, usually located within sect territories for easier monitoring. However, while others' Zhenxiong Towers suppress living evils, Ming Zhuo's towers suppress the deceased Ming Han. This showed that Ming Zhuo regarded Ming Han as a malevolent force, not even allowing him to become a ghost.

"The dead cannot come back to life," Ming Zhuo said. "But if someone truly wanted Ming Han to commit evil acts, they wouldn't need to revive him. They could turn him into a puppet to achieve that."

As he said this, he lightly snapped his fingers. A paper figure floated out from his sleeve, transforming into a fair-faced, peach-cheeked, knife-wielding servant upon touching the ground.

"The Hugui Clan's puppet techniques are ever-changing. The better the puppet, the more lifelike it appears," Ming Zhuo glanced sideways at the fair-faced servant. "Look at him, doesn't he seem real?"

The fair-faced servant stood between them, covering its face and laughing softly. Its eyes sparkled, appearing no different from a living person.

"It's quite lifelike," Luo Xu scrutinised the fair-faced puppet, "but on closer inspection, there is still a hint of ghostly aura."

Ming Zhuo snapped his fingers again, and the fair-faced puppet instantly grew taller, its entire demeanour changing dramatically. It had transformed into the armour-clad figure of the Heavenly Sea Imperial Lord. The fake Imperial Lord and the real Imperial Lord were of similar stature, and with the helmet obscuring the face, there was no way to distinguish between them. The overall bearing was almost a perfect imitation.

"Ming Han had a book that recorded the secret techniques of the Hugui Clan. It mentioned that the highest level of puppet mastery is to make it indistinguishable from the real thing," Ming Zhuo supported the back of the fake Imperial Lord and called out, "Luo Xu."

Luo Xu’s heart stirred as he saw the fake Imperial Lord raise its clearly defined hand. It imitated Luo Xu perfectly, even down to the "manji" ring on its finger. Suddenly, a circle of silver light appeared on the ground, and it summoned a small fire spell. Unfortunately, the fire spell disappeared quickly, vanishing in the blink of an eye.

Luo Xu showed no expression: "Can the puppets use other people's spells?"

"According to legend, the puppet masters of the Hugui Clan can not only use other people's spells but can even replace the original with their puppet," Ming Zhuo raised two fingers, revealing the ring between them. "My puppet is made of paper, it can't withstand your fire spell. To make it more realistic would require more spiritual energy. Unfortunately, I'm currently restricted and can't show you. But you should know that if I replaced this paper puppet with a real person or a corpse, driven by the same spiritual energy, it would be even more lifelike."

This highlighted the importance of a good puppet. Ming Zhuo's paper puppet was originally something his mother had made for him to play with, although infused with his spiritual energy, it was still inferior to a real puppet.

Luo Xu heard the strings and understood their elegant meaning: "You suspect that the Baiwei Warriors who killed that night were summoned by such a puppet master using Ming Han's corpse."(3)

"Exactly. For a skilled puppet master, this wouldn't be difficult. They would just need to exhume Ming Han and temper his corpse with potions for a few days to achieve it," Ming Zhuo said. "If not for this method, I could not think of any other way to summon the Baiwei Warriors."

"It seems we have no choice but to dig up this grave," Luo Xu said, looking at the fake Imperial Lord. "When you called out 'Luo Xu,' were you calling him or me?"

Ming Zhuo asked, "Does it make a difference?"

A circle of silver light suddenly appeared on the ground, the "manji" symbol instantly surfaced, and the curtains in the sleeping hall were immediately disturbed, with the fire spells on them lighting up one by one. The fake Imperial Lord, afraid of the fire, quickly turned back into a small paper figure and floated away in the wind with a “pa”.

"The difference is this," Luo Xu caught the small paper figure and held it between his fingers. "If you were calling me, then this is how the fire spell works."

Ming Zhuo looked at him for a moment, took the small paper figure back, and muttered, "Stingy ghost." Luo Xu didn't argue, which was as good as agreeing—stingy was stingy, there could only be one called Luo Xu. 

***

Two days later, outside the capital of Peidu. It was drizzling, and several disciples from different sects, dressed in plain clothes and holding umbrellas, walked along the official road to a rural tavern to take shelter from the rain. 

One of them closed his umbrella, ordered a few bowls of wine, and said to his companions, "We're a reputable sect, yet we've fallen to this point. Not only do we have to collect corpses for others, but we also have to carry coffins. What kind of message does that send?" 

Another took a bowl of wine and said, "Every sect is short on hands these days. Asking us for help is out of necessity. Didn't you see last night? Disciples from the Four Mountains were also carrying bodies." 

The first person said, "You mean the Qiankun Sect? Hēng, if it weren't for this situation, they wouldn't even look at us! Last time there was a disaster in our territory, we went to them for help, and they treated us like beggars, dismissing us casually. Thinking about it still makes me furious!"

Another person advised, "At this critical moment, you must not cause trouble. The Qiankun Sect is in a difficult situation now, with no one strong enough to take charge. If this continues, they won't be able to control the southern two prefectures, and if chaos breaks out, who knows who will suffer?"

The man drank his wine and remained silent for a moment before saying, "I don't understand why they bicker all day long."

"Some people have been wronged; some are dissatisfied. When people are crowded together, isn't it always about those things?" A fellow disciple cradled his wine bowl. "I thought the Heavenly Sea Imperial Lord was a wise person, but it turns out he's also a fool, actually getting involved with Yongze..."

As they were talking, two other people came into the tavern to take shelter from the rain. The taller one, with ink-black hair tied up and dressed in black, seemed to have heard something and glanced over at them.

The disciples couldn't gauge his origins. They saw the man lift his umbrella slightly, revealing another person dressed similarly in black underneath. The latter, looking about eighteen or nineteen, made the disciples fall silent upon seeing him.

"One bowl of wine, he's paying," Ming Zhuo turned his head and smiled slightly at the disciples. "Friends... why did you stop talking? The Heavenly Sea Lord is a fool, and then?"

The disciple holding the wine said, "It's just drunken talk, please don't take it seriously. You seem unfamiliar, may I ask which sect you belong to?"

Ming Zhuo hesitated, "I..."

The disciple thought he was reluctant to reveal his sect and didn't press further, asking instead, "How should we address you?"

"My name is..." Ming Zhuo thought for a moment and decided to borrow the prestige of the Posuo Sect, "Jiang Zhuo, from the Jiang family of North Heron Mountain."

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The Translator has Something to Say 

Apologies! I have taken some freelance work so my translation output will be a bit slower until the job is done.

Foot Notes

1. 宝珞 (báo luò) means “treasured necklace”.

2. 镇凶塔 (Zhèn xiōng tǎ) are literally “Fierce/Evil Suppression Towers”

3. 闻弦知雅意 (wén xián zhī yǎ yì) is a line from the Romance of the Three Kingdoms. It has come to mean that one understands the implied meaning, beyond words.