Romance blurb:
Chu Wu once hated and envied someone, and then loved them in a damp, secretive, twisted way. That person was noble and radiant, effortlessly possessing everything she longed for but could never have. Even the way their gaze fell on her was so warm and bright.
Now Chu Wu keeps company with a painted-skin ghost without flesh or bones, whose body drifts like smoke. The ghost always indulges her, even the strange, cold nature forged by long years of loneliness.
Did the painted-skin ghost once have a skin of its own?
For a long time, for an age whose length she could not know, Chu Wu did not know.
The painted-skin ghost had forgotten, too.
Mutual secret pining:
A handsome yet gloomy, eccentric innkeeper (Chu Wu) × a little dog who pretends to be a ghost to scare people, but is actually gentle and loyal (the painted skin)
Plot blurb:
Give an old beggar slumped in a dark alley three coins or half a pot of leftover wine, and he will tell you a story.
They say... Of course, he doesn't know who told him. He's forgotten.
There is a mountain that exists neither in time nor in space. At its summit stands an inn, with human-skin bells hanging from the eaves. Bones are wrapped inside the bells, which clatter in the mountain wind that never ceases.
The moon hangs squarely above the inn.
You might see a person and receive a bowl of tea with a complicated taste, or run into a ghost and lose your skin.
Perhaps, if you're lucky enough, you'll meet a person and a ghost. Then you can have one wish granted.
“Doesn't exist? Then how do you know about it?”
“Who knows? Don't interrupt. Do you want to hear the rest or not?”
The old beggar continues to mumble.
To climb the mountain, all you can do is leave it to chance.
Choose any mountain. Make sure you are facing due west and that you are the only person in sight. Then wait.
When noon arrives, cut yourself. The blood must hit the mountain soil just an instant after midday.
Not a fraction early or late.
When you open your eyes again, you may find that you are no longer on the mountain you were just standing on, and the sun high in the sky has become the moon.
Of course, most of the time, all you do is bleed for nothing.
“Blind old man, what is this mountain called?”
“Mount Guyin.”
“Can such a strange place really exist? Aren't you just trying to swindle me? Never mind, it's only three coins. I'll consider it the price of a story.”
The listener leaves.
The old beggar slowly counts the three coins in his hand and chuckles.
“It was only a story to begin with.”
Was it really just a story?
Then how did he know it?
Theme: Never forget where you came from.
