Copies of Strange News from Huang Zhai
About This Novel
What is recorded here are not crude and strange stories circulated in the streets and alleys. They are all strange and anecdotal stories left on tortoise shells, bamboos, silks, and broken monuments by unknown people of previous generations. There is a jade box found by a woodcutter in a deserted grave. It is wrapped with seven layers of cinnabar charms and half a piece of ice silk is hidden inside. The ink on it is usually no more than ordinary words. However, every twilight night, the secret text written in blood gradually appears; I spent twenty years editing and proofreading, transcribing it seven times. Every night when people are quiet, I can still hear the rustling in the pile of old papers, as if something is comparing the original text line by line. If there are occasional errors, I will hear a quiet sigh, like resentment or admiration. If a reader sees that the handwriting on a certain page suddenly becomes blurry, or that a few extra lines of small regular script appear out of thin air, he must close the scroll immediately and wait with bated breath for three seconds. This is not a silverfish eating away at me, but actually something from the other world peering into the world through your eyes. What's more important to remember is: when you read and feel thorns growing on your back, don't look back. The coolness on the back of your neck may not be the night breeze, but the three feet of black hair hanging down...
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