Late Night Bookstore - Chapter 13
Zhou Ze brought back the plaques and prepared to nail them up on both sides of the door. He didn’t really care which one went on the left and which on the right.
His neighbor, Xu Qinglang, who had been squatting at his door peeling garlic, enthusiastically offered help. Seeing Zhou Ze ready to hang the plaques, he immediately fetched a hammer and nails from his place.
Zhou Ze thanked him, taking the hammer. It felt greasy and a bit heavy in his hand, making him uncomfortable. Still, Zhou Ze managed to hang both plaques.
Afterward, the two stepped back, looking at the plaques, the door and the bookstore.
Zhou Ze offered Xu Qinglang a cigarette as thanks and Xu Qinglang lit it for him. They exhaled smoke simultaneously, in perfect sync.
“There’s a certain ambiance now, right?” Zhou Ze asked, proudly complimenting his own work.
Xu Qinglang shook his head. “If I’m not mistaken, these lines are from Ji Yun’s ‘Yuewei Caotang Biji’.”
“Yuewei Caotang Biji” was a collection of strange tales written by Ji Yun, also known as Ji Xiaolan, similar in style to “Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio”, expressing the author’s thoughts through tales of fox spirits and ghosts. The couplet, in essence, meant: these are just stories I’ve heard, take them with a grain of salt.
“Yeah,” Zhou Ze nodded.
“It’s a bit too literary. This store is still going to lose money,” Xu Qinglang bluntly remarked.
“Why?”
“There are too many stories in this world. Strange things happen every day, but only a few actually interest people. Some stories just aren’t worth telling. Some stories can’t be told. Some stories need tweaking to be listened to. And some stories, even with tweaks, are too terrifying to hear.”
Zhou Ze stared at Xu Qinglang for a long moment.
Xu Qinglang slightly lowered his head, his face showing a hint of embarrassment. He had a naturally seductive charm despite being a man and in this moment, he appeared even more alluring.
Seeing that Zhou Ze remained silent, Xu Qinglang continued, “Take the tales of mountain spirits, foxes and ghosts, where in the real world would such things exist?” He yawned. “Using fictional stories to teach life lessons, how real can those lessons be?”
Zhou Ze kept staring at Xu Qinglang without saying a word.
Xu Qinglang started feeling uneasy under the gaze, as if Zhou Ze wasn’t just looking at him, but at a joke.
Finally, Xu Qinglang waved his hand, excusing himself to go back to the noodle shop to prepare broth. As he walked away, he felt a chill, as though Zhou Ze had been mocking him.
Zhou Ze, however, paid no further attention to Xu Qinglang. They were neighbors, after all and as long as they didn’t interfere with each other, there was no need for conflict. Besides, Zhou Ze had no money to move his shop.
Later that afternoon, Zhou Ze sorted through most of the textbooks and study guides in the bookstore, selling them to a scrap dealer at the price of waste paper. Then, he went to the supermarket and bought ten plastic chairs. Only two bookshelves were left, holding the few books Zhou Ze personally found interesting.
At this point, the store was less of a bookstore and more of a recreational center for the elderly.
Zhou Ze stretched lazily. He wasn’t skilled in business and for now, he was just aimlessly fiddling with the shop. It had been losing money even when Xu Le ran it, so he felt no pressure.
He went upstairs, turned on the freezer and set the temperature. After smoking a cigarette outside and waiting for a while, he reached in to check the coldness.
Satisfied with the temperature, Zhou Ze lay down inside the freezer. This freezer, which had cost over 10,000 yuan, had several features, including a timer that functioned like an alarm clock for Zhou Ze.
Closing the lid of the freezer, Zhou Ze placed his hands on his abdomen, lying straight and still.
It looked like he passed away peacefully.
……………
Late at night, a red car pulled up on the street outside the bookstore. The area was mostly deserted, with only the lights of the noodle shop and the bookstore still on.
Inside the car sat a well-dressed young woman in a black down jacket, her hair draped over her shoulders, looking both cute and delicate.
“Xiao Bai, you jerk! I spent three days preparing and now you tell me you’re on a business trip? Go to hell!” she cursed into her phone before hanging up in frustration.
Her corgi, sitting on the passenger seat, jumped into her lap. Its glossy coat indicated it was well cared for.
“Good thing I still have you,” she murmured to the dog. Lighting a cigarette, she flicked the ash outside the window and glanced over at the bookstore. Through the glass, she saw something odd—there weren’t many bookshelves inside, just rows of plastic chairs.
Curious, she got out of the car, carrying the corgi and headed toward the bookstore. She didn’t want to spend Valentine’s night aimlessly driving around. Instead, she wanted a quiet place to sit.
The bookstore door was open and the warmth from the air conditioner inside was palpable. Holding her dog, she picked a random magazine from the shelf and sat down on one of the plastic chairs.
The corgi, freed from her arms, began to explore the shop.
After finishing the magazine, the woman stretched lazily, feeling a bit thirsty. She called out, “Boss, are you there? Do you have any milk tea or coffee?”
She stood up, returned the magazine and picked up an illustrated version of “Dream of the Red Chamber.”
Sitting down again, she shouted once more, “Boss, are you dead or something? Is this how you run a shop?”
The door was open, the sign said “Open for Business” and the heat was on. Clearly, the shop was still operating.
Had the woman been more curious or bold enough to venture upstairs, she might have been amazed at how her words hit the mark. Upstairs, in a low-ceilinged room, lay a freezer containing a man who truly looked like a corpse. No, he was indeed a dead person.
But had she gone upstairs, she wouldn’t have had time to admire her own prescience—she’d likely have been scared out of her wits.
It’s not every day you walk into a store late at night and discover the owner lying inside a freezing chamber.
Growing impatient, the woman lit another cigarette and started scrolling through her phone.
Just then, footsteps echoed from the stairwell. Zhou Ze hadn’t woken up from her shouts; he had simply awakened on his own.
Descending the stairs, Zhou Ze spotted a small yellow figure darting toward him, the corgi jumping onto his leg, asking to be picked up.
Zhou Ze chuckled, bending down to lift the friendly little dog into his arms.
Only then did he notice the woman sitting in the shop.
Ah, the first customer.
He didn’t feel particularly excited, though. After all, he had only rearranged the shop and changed the sign today. He hadn’t yet figured out how to turn a profit.
“Do you have coffee?” the woman asked.
Zhou Ze gestured toward a water dispenser in the corner, which had a stack of disposable cups next to it.
The woman sighed but still got up, poured herself a cup of water and returned to her plastic chair.
They sat in silence, one proprietor and one customer, for about half an hour. The woman began browsing Weibo and watching videos. One video, in particular, caught her attention—it was loud and boisterous:
“Do not miss this opportunity as you pass by! This ghost money, personally blessed by myself, an experienced Taoist priest, is available in limited supply. You may burn it and retrieve it for personal use in the afterlife, where it will even accrue interest—at a rate higher than typical financial offerings like Yu’ebao1! You can also burn it to send to your departed loved ones below, offering a quick and convenient method, fair to all, without deception, free from interference by ghostly disturbances and without exploitation at any stage!”
The woman laughed at the video. When people find something funny, they often want to share it, so she looked up at the shop owner and said, “Boss, have you seen this? This Taoist livestreamer has become quite a sensation. He’s almost become an internet celebrity.”
“Livestreamer?” Zhou Ze asked, puzzled. He pulled out his phone. Xu Le had installed plenty of livestream apps on it. It seemed this guy was really bored most of the time, either watching live streams or writing sequels to “Bai Jie”.
“Yeah, search for his ID. It’s really funny. He seems to have opened a ghost shop in Rongcheng, but he hasn’t streamed for a long time.”
Zhou Ze opened the app and searched for the Taoist’s ID, finding a room labeled “Host Not Present.” Fortunately, previous broadcasts were available for replay, so he clicked on one from a month ago.
In the video, the old Taoist secured the phone in a fixed position while a person practiced martial arts. The punches displayed notable skill, clearly indicating the individual was well-trained. In the background, a young man sat nearby, a slight smile on his lips and his eyes squinting, as if watching a performance with amused indifference, similar to observing a monkey show.
Zhou Ze skimmed through the video and noticed another man sitting behind the counter, holding a spoon and eating porridge.
The old Taoist was talking confidently in the main part of the video, continuously promoting himself and the ghost money he was selling on Taobao, Zhou Ze’s attention was drawn to the man in the corner of the video.
The man looked pained, struggling with each bite of porridge as if enduring some form of torment. He forced down each spoonful with visible difficulty.
Zhou Ze watched intently and took a deep breath, seemingly affected by the man in the corner of the video.
Eating…
It wasn’t always an easy task.
He didn’t know who the man was but felt a growing curiosity. Could he be an anorexia patient? Or does he have some gastrointestinal disease?
After the video ended, Zhou Ze, on a whim, sent the old Taoist a private message using Xu Le’s account: “Who’s the man sitting behind you, eating porridge?”
“Hey, I’m leaving. How much is it?” The girl stood up, stretched and said, “If I tell people about this, they’ll definitely think I’m a fool. On Valentine’s Day night, I actually sat in a bookstore for so long reading ‘Dream of the Red Chamber’.”
“Pay whatever you think is fair,” Zhou Ze replied.
After all, she had only read a few books and poured herself a cup of water.
The woman glanced at Zhou Ze. “Boss, you’re slick. Just like those monks who offer ‘free fortune readings’ at temples. Once the reading’s done, they pull out a donation book, showing a long list of names with minimum offerings of 100 yuan.”
Zhou Ze smiled without responding.
The woman pulled out a 100 yuan bill, placed it on her chair, picked up her corgi and left the store.
Zhou Ze stood up, picked up the money and flicked it between his fingers with a satisfying snap.
The sound was one of the most pleasant in the world.
As he walked back to the counter, his phone lit up. A message had come in—surprisingly, it was from the old Taoist. The reply was brief:
“He’s gone!”
TL Notes:
1. Yu’ebao is China’s first ever Internet fund specially designed for Alipay. It remains the largest money market fund in China, known in full as Tianhong Yu’ebao Money Market Fund.
Storyteller Bamboo Ninja's Words
Hey! ༼ つ ◕‿◕ ༽つ Thank you for reading! Hopefully you enjoyed it! Updates will happen daily (will notify in discord if I take a break)
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