Chapter 3: The Living Soul
Wang Zhao grew more and more agitated on the phone. One minute he was muttering about posting a public exposé on social media, the next he was urging Jiang Si to get his act together and make a new film to show Zhang Shuo up.
He went on and on, performing a one-man show for a long time before he realized Jiang Si hadn’t said a word.
“Old Jiang? Are you alright?” Wang Zhao was a little worried. Jiang Si seemed easygoing, but he was more stubborn than anyone he knew. When he set his mind to something, he would never turn back, even if he hit a dead end.
He held his breath for a long time before he heard Jiang Si’s sleepy voice. “Let him write whatever name he wants. Who cares? Even if he writes my name, will they give me any money?”
Wang Zhao was speechless. What could have turned a passionate artist into someone who only talks about money?
Jiang Si rolled over. “Don’t worry about it. Just let it go. I’m going back to sleep now.”
With that, he hung up, not giving Wang Zhao a chance to say another word.
He lay there with his long, slender arm over his eyes, blocking the light. His breathing was deep and even, as if he’d already fallen asleep. But a second later, he kicked off the covers and stared at the yellowed ceiling, stained by the warm glow of the lamp.
He had been out and about all day and had forgotten to eat!
He got up immediately, put on a white T-shirt and black shorts, and headed out the door.
It was almost dark. The purple-red twilight filled the sky. The straight road stretched to the vanishing point, and the streetlights mixed with the phoenix trees on the side of the road, casting dappled shadows on the ground.
The temperature had dropped a little, making it perfect for a walk. Jiang Si strolled to a nearby square to find some late-night food. This was an old district with old buildings, but it had a large drum tower square surrounded by shops. With all the lights turning on, it was bustling and lively.
As he walked, Jiang Si’s peripheral vision caught sight of a strange-looking man in the distance, but when he looked directly, there were only three girls in traditional Chinese hanfu, posing for pictures under the lamplight.
He didn’t think much of the brief interruption. He also didn’t notice that the paper doll in his pocket had come to life, struggling and making a faint rustling sound that was drowned out by the noisy crowd.
Lost in the crowd, Hai Di suddenly noticed that the sky had turned dark. The clamoring sounds around him vanished, becoming muffled as if separated by a layer of insulation. All he could do was try to feel for the object that was tightly against his body.
He realized it was two layers of soft cloth.
What the?!
Jiang Si returned to his old residential neighborhood, a cup of boba tea in hand. The area was home to many elderly people, and most had already gone to bed. As soon as he entered the complex, the noise level dropped dramatically.
Hai Di could clearly feel the faint breaths of the person who had stuffed him into a pocket, as well as the friction of the cloth with every step.
He heard him open and close a door, place the boba tea on a table, and then turn on a tablet to watch a movie. He felt the time was right. He used all his might to try and make a sound to get the person’s attention.
His tiny arms pushed against the thick fabric that was so heavy for him.
“Hmph—”
He pushed with all his might.
Good news: He moved a little.
Bad news: His arm bent.
Hai Di was speechless.
When Jiang Si saw a yellow paper doll standing in front of him, he thought he was dreaming. He closed his eyes, intending to go back to sleep, but then something didn’t feel right.
This paper doll… looked familiar.
Jiang Si sat up and looked at the paper doll closely. He finally remembered. Luo Yan had come so early that he had casually put the paper doll he had cut into his pocket. Even without facial features, Jiang Si could feel it staring at him.
Its thin, short arms waved in the air a few times. Hai Di tried to stand firm, hoping Jiang Si would notice his presence.
Jiang Si, of course, saw its movements and felt a wave of absurdity.
My grandpa never told me that paper dolls could become spirits.
He reached out and gently pushed it. The paper doll immediately toppled over the edge of the pillow, proving that it was, indeed, made of paper.
Jiang Si quickly picked it up from the floor and examined it again. He thought of another possibility.
He got up to light a stick of incense. As a wisp of white smoke rose, the paper doll that had been angrily flailing its limbs suddenly collapsed, and a tall, slender man appeared out of thin air.
He was wearing a black suit, with sharp features and a blank expression. He was a head and a half taller than Jiang Si, including the space between his feet and the floor.
He was looking down at Jiang Si with an air of absolute superiority.
Jiang Si: “…”
The last time he saw a person wearing a suit in the middle of summer was an insurance salesman on the subway.
Luckily, the man had the face and body for it. Otherwise, Jiang Si would have instinctively said, “I’m not interested in buying insurance.”
“Who are you? How did you end up in my house?” Jiang Si was confused and baffled.
Hai Di’s angry expression softened into a look of confusion. After thinking for a long time, he uttered two words.
“Hai Di.”
“Seaweed?”
“My name is Hai Di.” As soon as he said it, Jiang Si almost burst out laughing. But then he remembered his own name and suppressed his smile.
Never mind. We’re both in the same boat when it comes to names.
“Who are you?” Hai Di asked, throwing the same question back at Jiang Si.
Jiang Si cleared his throat. “My name is Jiang. Just call me Boss Jiang. Let me ask you, are you dead?”
“…I don’t know,” Hai Di truly didn’t know. Besides his name, he had no other memories.
“Why are you in my house?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you want?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then… never mind.” Jiang Si gave up, knowing he wouldn’t get any answers from him. He’d just have to deal with it for now.
Just then, the stick of incense was about to burn out. Jiang Si looked at it with a pained expression. This was an expensive soul-guiding incense. One gram cost over a hundred yuan. This particular stick was a leftover from his grandfather’s days.
Jiang Si felt a pang of regret. He had been so sleepy earlier that he just grabbed one without thinking.
He looked at the innocent-looking Hai Di and sighed. He yawned, opened his bedroom door, and said, “Just stay here for now. I’ll figure something out tomorrow. Don’t come into my bedroom tonight. You can hang out wherever you want.”
Hai Di obediently floated out.
The next day, a golden ray of sunlight pierced through the thick curtains. The phone on the bedside table vibrated, and after a while, a hand emerged from under the covers to grab it.
“Who is it?”
“Old Jiang, get over here. I’ve got a big client for you! You’re about to get rich!”
…
When Jiang Si rushed to his shop, he saw Wang Zhao waiting outside with a man and a woman. All three of them had red faces from the sun, and fine beads of sweat trickled down their cheeks. When they saw Jiang Si, their faces lit up as if they had seen a savior.
“Sorry to keep you… waiting?” Jiang Si said as he opened the door. When he saw the woman’s face, his words trailed off.
Wang Zhao was not one for formalities. He pushed the door wide open and led the others in. “Old Jiang, turn on the AC.”
Jiang Si: “…”
It’s not often that people complain about the heat in this shop.
With all these funeral goods on the wall, it should be an excellent tool for keeping cool!
Jiang Si ignored him and nodded a greeting to the middle-aged man behind Wang Zhao. Then he turned his attention to Luo Yan.
“Good morning, Sister Luo.”
“You two know each other?” Wang Zhao was surprised. “Perfect! Then I don’t have to introduce you. These two are from the Rongcheng Cultural Tourism Bureau.”
Luo Yan chimed in. “This is my colleague, Yang Xiu.”
“Hello, Brother Yang.”
Jiang Si thought they were here to buy things, and his smile became even more welcoming.
“You’re Xiao Jiang, right? Writer Wang has told me all about you. He said you used to be a film director and were very successful. Are you interested in giving us some guidance on our tourism promotion project?”
Yang Xiu didn’t waste any time and stated the purpose of their visit.
Jiang Si was stunned. “Huh?”
“On the way here, Luo Yan also told me that you’re very interested in our country’s traditional culture and that you’re a cultural inheritor. Our bureau needs young talent like you who are young, capable, and passionate.”
“…” Jiang Si saw Wang Zhao’s wide grin and felt his teeth ache. “You flatter me.”
“No, no, young man, don’t be so humble. It’s a good thing to be talented. Are you interested? We’re open to any format, and we have a special fund for this project. You just have to guarantee the quality of the work.”
“Yeah, Old Jiang, don’t be modest. This is a piece of cake for you, isn’t it?” Wang Zhao encouraged.
“I have faith in you,” Luo Yan said with a smile.
Facing the three pairs of expectant eyes, Jiang Si silently tried to come up with a way to refuse.
Yang Xiu seemed to remember something and clapped his hands. “Our city leaders are so supportive of this project that they’ve raised the prize money by 100,000 yuan. You really should consider it; it’s a rare opportunity.”
Another 100,000 yuan?
That’s 300,000!
Jiang Si’s expression changed. He grabbed Yang Xiu’s hand and said with sincerity, “To be honest, I’ve always wanted to contribute to spreading our excellent traditional culture and promoting Rongcheng’s tourism industry. Thank you for coming here personally to invite me. You can rest assured that I’ll create a great piece of work.”
Just as he was about to be overwhelmed by the money, an idea flashed in his mind. Jiang Si suddenly knew exactly what to do.
“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Yang Xiu’s smile widened. “Do you have any ideas?”
“I plan to use traditional art forms to create a stop-motion animated film to promote tourist attractions.”
Stop-motion animation?
Yang Xiu didn’t quite understand, but it sounded sophisticated. After discussing it with Jiang Si for a long time, he felt that he had gained a lot of insight into art. Satisfied, he left.
Luo Yan gave Jiang Si a “you can do it” look and followed her colleague.
As soon as they were out of sight, Wang Zhao nudged Jiang Si and asked, “If you’re making an animation, won’t you run out of time?”
“I’ll have enough time,” Jiang Si said, calculating the time. He could finalize the pre-production work in a week or two, then all he had to do was recruit some “actors” and start filming.
Why didn’t I think of this before?
He recalled the way Hai Di’s paper doll form had gestured wildly last night.
This way, he wouldn’t even need to make the skeletal frames required for stop-motion animation characters.
After a moment of thought, Jiang Si looked at the confused Wang Zhao and asked, “How do you know people from the Cultural Tourism Bureau?”
“They came to me. They were originally going to invite Director Zhang, but he’s busy with his film, so I recommended you. You went to school for this, and you’ll get paid for it.”
“Alright, thanks,” Jiang Si nodded. Suddenly, he saw the little bear doll he had won in a store giveaway slowly peek out from the back room.
Its clear, blue eyes stared at him without blinking, seeming to urge him to hurry.
His eyelid twitched. He swallowed the rest of what he wanted to say and quickly ushered Wang Zhao out. “Are you done here? If so, you should go home and rest. I have other things to do. See you another day.”
“Huh?”
Wang Zhao’s words were cut off by the door closing. He rubbed his nose and tried to peek through the glass door.
He happened to make eye contact with a human-sized paper doll. The blank, white circles where its eyes should have been sent a shiver down his spine. He had no idea what his friend was thinking, living with these things every day.
Wang Zhao patted his chest and left.
Inside, the atmosphere was tense and volatile.
“What are you doing here?” Jiang Si asked, crossing his arms and looking down at the doll on the floor that wasn’t even as tall as his calf.
Its brown, furry arms gestured wildly. Its crystal-clear eyes showed a hint of anticipation.
What is this?
Jiang Si sighed, picked it up off the floor, and placed an ink-stained calligraphy brush in its hand. “Can you write? Write it down.”
Hai Di struggled to hold the brush, stepping onto the table to write the character.
After a long time, a wobbly character for “no” appeared.
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