Su Ting and Haitang’s Main Scene
The moonlight was cold, and the stars in the sky seemed to fall heavily. The mirror-like river surface suddenly rippled with layers of water patterns, and a small boat in the middle of the river was in chaos. Su Ting lunged forward and pried open Bai Haitang’s mouth, shouting, “Don’t swallow! Haitang, spit it out!”
Bai Haitang’s throat moved, and that tiny object slid down.
“Why…” That thing seemed to take away Su Ting’s vitality. His expression was dazed for a moment before he remembered to grab Haitang, trying to make him vomit everything out by pressing on his throat. Unfortunately, Bai Haitang refused to comply, tightly clenching his teeth. Su Ting slumped in the cabin, clutching the red, striking fabric of Haitang’s robe. His eyes seemed to be dyed with the color of this bridal attire, suddenly turning blood-red: “What is it? What exactly is that thing?”
“Jade Frost Pill,” Bai Haitang swallowed and smiled, “It’s okay, Ting Lang. It’s medicine that can cure my illness.”
Su Ting’s eyes widened with anxiety, his heart both restless and frantic: “Aren’t you already taking medicine from the little miracle doctor? Why are you still taking more? Where did this come from? What nonsense is this Jade Frost Pill?” He no longer cared about propriety and grabbed Bai Haitang’s arm, searching through his sleeves. Sure enough, he found a small medicine bottle.
Bai Haitang’s face changed: “Ting Lang, give it back to me!”
Su Ting pried open the lid with his thumb, revealing a small, snow-white pill. He brought it closer, only to catch a strange scent, like rusty metal mixed with an inexplicable stench. Naturally, he didn’t believe such a bizarre-smelling object could be any sort of miraculous medicine. Without hesitation, he brought the bottle toward his mouth.
“Ting Lang!” Bai Haitang’s face turned pale with fright. With one hand held by Su Ting, he could only kneel on the boat deck, leaning forward as much as possible. The boat’s candle had been extinguished by the wind in the earlier commotion, leaving only his bright, glistening eyes. “Don’t eat it. You can’t eat this…”
Su Ting pressed him: “What exactly is this? Who gave it to you? If you don’t tell me, I’ll try one myself!”
Bai Haitang shook his head in panic: “I really don’t know… A traveling alchemist sold it to me years ago.” He lowered his head, biting his lower lip, pale as he explained, “It really is medicine. Please, Ting Lang, give it back to me! That alchemist said if I take it, I might get better.”
“What kind of alchemist?” Su Ting was so furious he almost fainted. Fearing his rage might frighten Bai Haitang, he tried hard to suppress his anger. “Isn’t my help and the little miracle doctor’s enough? What kind of nonsense alchemist sells you some random pill, and you just swallow it without thinking? They take advantage of the fact you don’t know anything, that you can’t read, and you believe everything they say!”
“…” He indeed knew nothing, and believed whatever people told him.
Seeing him suddenly grow despondent, Su Ting realized he’d said something wrong. He quickly added, “That’s not what I meant, Haitang. I just—I’m afraid you’ve been deceived.” Filled with worry amidst his anger, he picked up the bamboo pole and began steering toward the shore. “Haitang, even if I have to sell everything I own, I’ll cure your illness, so you—”
“I don’t want you to sell everything to treat me.” Bai Haitang rarely argued so firmly with Su Ting. Hearing this, Su Ting paused and glanced back at him. Just as he was about to say something, Bai Haitang interrupted, “I don’t want that. You’re still young. Even if you stop studying, you could still be a calligraphy teacher, or an accountant… There are so many other paths for you. If it weren’t for me dragging you down, you wouldn’t be like this.”
“That’s my choice!” Su Ting pressed the pole to the bottom, and the small boat swayed before surging forward. “I’m a few years younger than you, but I know what I’m doing. Besides, what do you mean by saying I’m still young—are you saying you’re old?”
Bai Haitang said, “I am old. For an actor, I’m already old.”
“…” Su Ting frowned, unwilling to engage in this conversation. “We’re heading to One Bowl Noodle Shop to ask the little miracle doctor what this pill is. What else did that alchemist say? Do you feel any discomfort right now?”
Bai Haitang refused to answer. Seeing Su Ting bring the pill back to his mouth to threaten him, he panicked and blurted out, “I really don’t know what it is! The alchemist said it’s a poison-to-poison remedy, and it’s all down to luck. With good luck, I’d recover overnight. With bad luck… I’d accept it.”
He didn’t continue but forced a hopeful smile. “Ting Lang, see? I told you I have good luck! I won’t need those expensive medicines anymore, and you won’t have to work in the oil mill… I—”
He suddenly stopped. His face turned deathly pale, cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. Su Ting’s heart skipped a beat. Throwing down the pole, he rushed to support Bai Haitang’s body, anxiously asking, “What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?”
“Nothing…” Bai Haitang clutched his stomach, forcing a weak smile. “Maybe the pill is starting to work. It’s okay, it’ll get better. I’m lucky.”
Su Ting grabbed a blanket, folded it into a square, and placed it behind Bai Haitang’s back. He didn’t want to leave Haitang’s side for even a moment, but he had to keep rowing. He regretted bringing him out on the river, as it had led to this chaotic moment. Resolving himself, he let go of Bai Haitang’s hand and began rowing vigorously toward the shore.
Bai Haitang’s throat felt like it was burning, and he slumped over in the cabin. His vision swam, and the night sky outside the cabin seemed to shimmer. He tried to rise for a better look, but his head was dizzy. A wave of heat surged from his stomach, and despite covering his mouth with his hand, he vomited bitter water. A strange taste filled his mouth.
He remembered the alchemist’s words about forcing out the poison, and he felt relieved, thinking he was on the verge of recovery.
Su Ting rowed quickly, but the faster he went, the more mistakes he made. Just as they were nearing the dock, his foot slipped as the boat swayed, and the bamboo pole fell into the river, disappearing into the dark water.
“Damn. Damn it!” Su Ting cursed. Spending his days with rough men at the oil mill, he’d naturally picked up some coarse language. Realizing what he’d said, he quickly shut his mouth and hurried back to the cabin to check on Bai Haitang. “Haitang, come on. The pole fell into the river, but we’re almost there. I’ll carry you.”
Just as he moved to the front of the boat, Bai Haitang crawled out of the cabin—not crouching, but literally crawling. Under the sparse clouds and the bright moonlight, Su Ting squatted down to help him, only to find Bai Haitang’s eyes bloodshot and his breathing increasingly labored.
“Ting… Lang,” Bai Haitang’s voice was sluggish, his words coming out slowly. “Is it going to rain? It suddenly got darker.”
Su Ting looked up at the bright moon overhead, with not a cloud in sight, and his lips trembled as he forced a smile. “Yes, it’s about to rain. We need to get home quickly. Come, lean on my shoulder.”
Bai Haitang rubbed his arm and wrapped it around Su Ting’s shoulder. Su Ting scooped him up by the crook of his legs, lifting him horizontally, while teasing, “You’re too light, you need to eat more.”
“Mm.” Bai Haitang squinted his eyes, straining to see Su Ting’s face through the hazy gray. He smiled and stammered, “Next time, we’ll eat those wontons we had today and drink that pomegranate wine again.” He truly believed he would recover, so despite the twisting pain in his stomach, he could bear it. He recalled the taste of the sweet liquor, “That wine was really good!”
“I’ll buy you anything. Just keep talking, Haitang!” Su Ting leapt forward from the bow of the boat. Normally, with his skills, he could have made it across easily, but with someone in his arms, he couldn’t perform as well. His foot landed on the edge of the dock’s wooden planks, but he lost his footing and fell into the water.
Fortunately, in that critical moment, he managed to throw Bai Haitang onto the dock.
Bai Haitang rolled on the dock and heard a splash. “Ting Lang! Ting Lang!”
Su Ting emerged from the water, drenched, and climbed ashore. “I’m here, I just missed my step.”
Bai Haitang touched the hem of his clothes, letting out a sigh of relief. Su Ting casually wrung out the water from his clothes and was about to lift Bai Haitang again when he noticed Bai Haitang tilting his head, seemingly gazing at something in the depths of the river. There was nothing there, only the clear reflection of the moon rippling on the water. Bai Haitang clutched his chest, panting heavily, and swallowed a few times before asking, “Ting Lang, do you hear singing?”
“Singing?” Su Ting looked around. “Maybe you misheard. There’s no one else here.”
Bai Haitang grabbed him. “Wait, listen—’I with you, in sweet harmony for life… Who wouldn’t envy us? But who knew…’?” He hummed intermittently in a hoarse voice, singing a song he had performed countless times, slowly raising his hand to form a delicate gesture.
Su Ting bent down and carried him on his back. “I hear it. It’s across the river. Let’s go over the bridge and see.”
Bai Haitang lay on his back, occasionally humming a note or two. Su Ting had never run so fast in his life, even with someone on his back. He didn’t dare stop for a single step. Before he could reach the bridge, he realized there was no more sound from behind him. He panicked and shouted, “Haitang! Haitang!”
“Mm…” After a long while, Bai Haitang responded.
Su Ting let out a breath. “Is the song still playing?”
“No.” Bai Haitang bit his lip, suddenly feeling his nose burn. He wiped it with his sleeve. “It didn’t sound good anymore… Ting Lang, let’s go home? It’s so dark, and I feel so bad.”
Su Ting felt Bai Haitang slipping down, so he hoisted him up again, gritting his teeth as he ran. “Hold onto my neck. We’re going home now. Talk to me.”
“Talk about what?” Bai Haitang asked.
“Anything,” Su Ting replied.
Bai Haitang was silent for a while, then suddenly sniffled and tightened his grip on Su Ting’s shoulders. “I miss Fourth Senior Brother and Sixth Senior Brother. I miss Master, and I miss Little Ninth… Fourth Senior Brother and Sixth Senior Brother were both good people, but they got the same filthy disease as me. Why? Little Ninth… Little Ninth was very obedient. He suffered a lot when he was young. When he was about twelve or thirteen, a government official bought him, supposedly to raise him like a son. I was really happy for him.”
“But one day, Little Ninth came back, crazed, covered in wounds. He had stolen a dagger from the opera house. I chased him up the mountain but couldn’t catch him. When I found him again… he was already dead.” Bai Haitang shuddered. “He had cut open his stomach and pulled out his intestines. I don’t know what he went through. I regret not stopping him back then. Even if I had raised him, even though life would have been hard, he wouldn’t have had to die…”
“Ting Lang, do you think all of us performers are doomed to a bad end?”
“Don’t think like that.” Su Ting was too focused on running to fully grasp the meaning of Bai Haitang’s words. “Talk about something else, Haitang. Talk about yourself.”
“I…” Bai Haitang tightened his grip on Su Ting, but his whole body hurt as if his organs were being burned. He could barely hold on, slipping downward. He felt something welling up in his eyes, and a bitter taste rose in his throat. He opened his mouth and, after a long moment, managed to piece together a sentence. “I’m so scared.”
“Scared of what?” Su Ting asked.
“Of dying…” Bai Haitang heard himself say, his voice trembling and small.
Haitang feared death, yet how had he mustered the courage to take that dangerous pill, a gamble of life and death based purely on luck? Su Ting couldn’t hold back anymore. His vision blurred, and he knew he must look terrible at this moment. He also knew the tear streaks on his face must be twisted like wriggling worms, but he had no hands free to wipe his face.
“My luck is good,” Bai Haitang murmured weakly, over and over. “I’ll get better, won’t I, Ting Lang?”
“Yes, you’ll get better. Don’t be afraid. I won’t let you die.” Su Ting forced a smile through his tears. “Right, we still have the little miracle doctor. The little miracle doctor will save you!”
Before he could finish his words, Bai Haitang suddenly let go and slipped off his back. Su Ting ran two steps before realizing what had happened and immediately turned back. Bai Haitang was lying on the ground, dazed, and didn’t get up for a long time. Su Ting grabbed his arm and pulled him onto his lap. Bai Haitang, somewhat delirious, didn’t struggle as he was pulled into Su Ting’s arms, unable to see his own face clearly, only vaguely perceiving Su Ting’s outline.
Something warm and wet slid over his lips. Bai Haitang raised his sleeve to wipe it, but while he couldn’t see it himself, Su Ting was horrified to see his face covered in blood. Su Ting scooped him up, ready to run again, but he couldn’t hold on, and the two of them fell together.
Bai Haitang rolled over once and curled up, possibly having hit something when he fell.
Su Ting scrambled to his feet, but just as he was about to exert strength, his knee gave out, and he collapsed again. A sharp pain shot through his ankle, and he realized he had twisted it, rendering him unable to walk properly. They were still a long way from the city gates, and this area was deserted, without a single passerby. Hobbling over to Bai Haitang, he pulled him into his arms, trying to lift him, but eventually settled on carrying him on his back, dragging his injured foot as he moved forward.
At this moment, survival was all that mattered. He didn’t have time to check what injuries Bai Haitang had sustained.
Bai Haitang groaned softly in pain, then suddenly said, “I hear Master calling me, asking me to go find Fourth Senior Brother and the others. They’re playing cards down below, and they’re one person short.”
“Don’t go!” Su Ting shouted, alarmed. “Let them find someone else, anyone else! If you want to play cards, I’ll play with you. Whatever you want to do, I’ll do it with you, but you are not going!”
Bai Haitang added, “Little Ninth asked me to go with him to see the lanterns…”
Su Ting, on the verge of exploding, barked, “Tell him to go by himself!”
As they descended from the bridge, the uneven ground caused Su Ting to stumble, pitching forward. The weight on his back bore down on him, making it impossible to get up. He struggled for a long while before managing to crawl out from under Bai Haitang. Just as he was about to continue carrying him, Bai Haitang suddenly arched his back and began convulsing. Su Ting was petrified, unsure of what to do, so he held down Haitang’s limbs.
It lasted only a short time, but to Su Ting, it felt as long as an entire season. Finally, Bai Haitang stopped convulsing, but his nose started bleeding profusely, and he was breathing heavily. Su Ting knelt beside him, rubbing his chest, but it was no use. He glanced around frantically, his face even more ashen than Bai Haitang’s.
“I didn’t… I didn’t sell my body…” Bai Haitang grasped Su Ting’s hand, his eyes brimming with blood or tears—Su Ting couldn’t tell. “I don’t know… I drank the wine, I was made drunk… When I woke up, I was tied up…” His eyes darted wildly, unable to focus, as he looked past Su Ting’s shoulder at the boundless starry sky, babbling incoherently, “I didn’t want it! Ting Lang, my body was meant for you… It’s not clean anymore, it’s not clean…”
Su Ting sharply interrupted him, “That’s nonsense! Haitang, don’t think about that. I don’t care about those things.”
“Then kiss me…” Bai Haitang said in despair. In the past, when his thoughts were clear, he would never have dared to make such a request. He regarded Su Ting as his sky, his life, and used all his strength to protect him. How could he have dared to do something so risky? But now, in the depths of pain, all his strength and pretense had thinned like fragile paper, while his insecurity and fear magnified layer by layer.
Su Ting didn’t hesitate. He leaned down to kiss him. But at the last moment, Bai Haitang sobered up slightly, turning his head away to refuse Su Ting. His hand fumbled in the dirt, finding a shard of porcelain. He pressed it to his lips, and through that fragment of porcelain, earthy and fragrant with grass, he clumsily “kissed” Su Ting.
Perhaps it wasn’t a kiss at all. After all, they didn’t touch, separated by a cold piece of porcelain, unable to even feel each other’s warmth. Tears dripped from Su Ting’s eyes, one by one—what was this? What on earth was this?
With just that brief touch, Bai Haitang was satisfied. He discarded the porcelain shard, and despite his bloodied, agonized face, a shy smile appeared. He pursed his lips, as if savoring the kiss that hadn’t really happened, and called softly, “Ting Lang, Ting Lang…”
Su Ting limped forward, carrying him.
Bai Haitang asked, “Am I going to die?”
Su Ting choked up. “No, don’t think about that.”
“Ting Lang, I’ve made a few shoe soles for you. They’re in the box under the bed.” Bai Haitang tried to smile for Su Ting, but remembering that Su Ting couldn’t see him from behind, he gave up. A sour taste rose in his throat, but he forced it down. After a long pause, Bai Haitang continued, “I also sewed a new cloth pouch. Don’t forget to feed the chickens and ducks…”
Su Ting rasped, “You’ll feed them yourself. I bought them for you.”
Bai Haitang couldn’t follow the conversation anymore, his mind too muddled. He just rambled on about his own thoughts, “If I die, burn me. I don’t want to take this illness with me to meet Master and the others. Even in death, I don’t want it.” Seeing Su Ting refuse, Bai Haitang began to cry and begged, “Please, Ting Lang. I don’t want this disease!”
Su Ting sniffled, and finally, with a face full of grief, nodded.
Bai Haitang was content with that and asked, “Will you remember me in the future?”
Su Ting nodded vigorously. “Of course I will. How could I ever forget my bride?”
Bai Haitang rested his head on Su Ting’s back, his breathing like the wheezing of an old bellows. He sobbed softly and asked, “Will you… not marry anyone else after me?” Before Su Ting could answer, Bai Haitang changed his mind. “No, you should. Marry someone pretty. Then you won’t remember me anymore. But… if you have a daughter, can you name her Haitang?”
He settled for this—if he couldn’t be Su Ting’s bride, he’d be his cherished daughter. He had forgotten that moments ago, he had asked Su Ting to burn him. Burned bodies cannot be buried or reincarnated. Bai Haitang anxiously watched for Su Ting’s reaction, fearing he would be displeased. Then, quickly, he retracted his request. “Forget it.”
Su Ting nodded, “Whatever you want. I’ll do whatever you want.”
Bai Haitang was happy, as if he could really become Su Ting’s precious daughter in the next life. Su Ting was considerate, and he would surely be good to a daughter. Bai Haitang imagined himself acting spoiled, no longer afraid Su Ting would get angry and ignore him. He could be held, lifted, led by the hand, whatever he wanted… how wonderful that would be.
He hadn’t even been reincarnated yet, but he was already indulging in these fantasies. “Ting Lang, I want to see the snow.”
The snow in Xinan had melted. Su Ting said, “When you get better, we’ll go to the capital to see the snow. The snow there is thick, like a blanket, it can cover your legs and sit on your shoulders without melting. Once it freezes solid, you can carve sparrows and birds, and display them in the house. I’ll carve you a Haitang blossom.” He had never been to the capital and had no idea what the snow there was like, or whether the ice could really be carved into flowers.
But Bai Haitang was amused by the thought, and that was enough.
Bai Haitang murmured, “I’m lucky. I’ll definitely get better.”
For the rest of the long journey, Bai Haitang remained silent. Su Ting could hear his labored breathing—sometimes fast, sometimes abruptly halting—and it made Su Ting feel as if he were hanging on the edge of a cliff, trembling with every irregular breath Bai Haitang took.
In the distance, Su Ting could see the city gates. Lantern-bearing travelers walked in pairs or trios, and Su Ting, overwhelmed with relief, cried out, “Haitang, we’re almost in the city.”
There was no response from Bai Haitang, or maybe there was, but the voice was so faint that Su Ting couldn’t hear it. It wasn’t until they reached the shadows cast by the lanterns that Su Ting heard Bai Haitang groan softly, saying, “Ting Lang… it hurts.”
“We’re almost there!” Su Ting glanced down at his own swollen foot. Every step felt as though his ankle were broken, but he hoisted Bai Haitang higher on his back, gritted his teeth, and continued to limp forward, half walking, half running.
The Lantern Festival continued late into the night. A silver moon hung askew on the gnarled branches of a dying tree. In the halo of the moon, two sparrows pecked at each other’s feathers. Beneath the tree, two childhood sweethearts were lighting flower lanterns.
The opera house and teahouses sang songs of longing—day and night, like dreams, like smoke.
A long red sleeve dragged across the ground, gathering up dust and gravel, dirty and muddied, yet still as bright as blood.
An old man selling candied hawthorns passed by them. He felt a sudden chill and turned around, pointing at the limping young man on the road. Horrified, he shouted, “Young man, on your back—”
But the man paid him no mind and kept walking.
At the One Bowl Noodle Shop, it was quiet. Only the occasional cough of Aunt Xu broke the stillness. Qing Huan got up in the middle of the night to bring her some water. Everyone had played hard that night and had just fallen asleep. Qing Huan, still groggy with exhaustion, saw the flower lanterns that Brother Nian had hung under the eaves—the one with the multicolored mandarin ducks—still faintly flickering.
While waiting for the water to boil, she tiptoed to peek at Duan Ming, who was sleeping on the floor in the main hall. She then leaned against the kitchen door and looked up at the sky. Just then, the water in the kettle began to bubble and gurgle, and suddenly, the shop’s door was pounded violently.
“—Little miracle doctor! Little miracle doctor!”
The loud shouting startled Duan Ming awake. Qing Huan, after a moment’s hesitation, rushed to Brother Nian’s door, knocking hurriedly. “Brother Nian! Someone outside is calling for a doctor!”
“Who could it be at this hour?” Yu Jinnian had not been sleeping deeply, so he woke up quickly, sitting up and slipping on his shoes. As he headed toward the door, Ji Hong, who had been lying beside him, rolled over, grabbed a cloak from the chair, and followed him, draping it over Yu Jinnian’s shoulders.
The three of them, with Qing Huan and Duan Ming helping to remove the door panels, hurried outside.
Su Ting knelt on the ground, his face and body covered in dust, cradling a beautiful figure dressed in red. When Yu Jinnian appeared, Su Ting crawled toward him, weeping and begging, “Little miracle doctor! Please, look at Haitang—”
Yu Jinnian quickly knelt down and pulled aside the blood-red robe, revealing Bai Haitang’s face. Qing Huan gasped in horror at the sight of his face, with blood streaming from every orifice, covering her mouth as she took a sharp breath. Even Ji Hong couldn’t help but frown.
After checking Bai Haitang’s pulse and limbs, Yu Jinnian said nothing. He stood up and stepped aside.
With each step Yu Jinnian took back, Su Ting grew more desperate. Grabbing onto Yu Jinnian’s pant leg, he choked out, “What does that mean… Little miracle doctor, please save him!”
Yu Jinnian glanced at Ji Hong, seeking guidance or perhaps reassurance. After a long pause, he pressed his lips together and sighed softly, “Su Ting, he’s already—”
“How could this be! How could this be!” Su Ting screamed hysterically, refusing to let Yu Jinnian finish. One arm held Bai Haitang close, while the other hand clutched Yu Jinnian’s clothes tightly. His eyes were bloodshot, and though he stared with all his might, he couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. “You’re a miracle doctor! Can’t you bring the dead back to life? Just try again, please save him. Haitang’s lucky, he said so himself! He’s under Heaven’s protection, he can turn danger into safety!”
His grip on Yu Jinnian grew erratic, his desperation turning into a frenzied strength. Ji Hong stepped forward, his expression stern, and forcefully separated the two, pulling the young man behind him.
Yu Jinnian stepped out from behind Ji Hong, his voice low. “Su Ting, Haitang… he’s already lost his life. I’m not a god, I’m sorry. There’s nothing more I can do…” He paused, knowing that Bai Haitang’s body had already grown cold. Only the King of the Underworld himself could show mercy and save him now.
Su Ting froze, as if he had turned to stone, unable to believe that the person who had just been drinking and sailing with him was now gone in the blink of an eye. He looked down, hugging Bai Haitang tighter, unable to say a word. Even Bai Haitang’s blood-stained face didn’t seem terrifying to him. This was his only Haitang, the Bai Haitang who had bloomed for him alone.
For a long time, Yu Jinnian watched Su Ting sit there, silent and still, before trying to comfort him. “Su Ting, you need to let go. I’ll have someone take you home later…” But Su Ting remained motionless, as if in a trance. Worried, Yu Jinnian called out again, “Su Ting, Su Ting—Su Ting!” He shouted, grabbing Su Ting by the collar. Su Ting’s face was pale, his lips turning red and purple from holding his breath. Yu Jinnian slapped him hard across the face, shouting, “Su Ting, wake up! Breathe!”
The sharp slap jolted Su Ting back to life. He gasped for air, looking dazedly at Yu Jinnian. His face now bore the clear imprint of Yu Jinnian’s hand, and he seemed utterly confused, as if he had just been pulled out of a river like a drowned ghost.
Yu Jinnian had no idea if it was possible for someone to die from holding their breath after being overwhelmed by grief, but Su Ting’s expression had frightened him. Losing one life was already too much. He didn’t want to see Su Ting die in front of him as well.
Ji Hong raised his chin, signaling Duan Ming, who came over and delivered a swift chop to the back of Su Ting’s neck.
Yu Jinnian knelt down to check on Su Ting, confirming that he had only been knocked unconscious and wasn’t actually dead. With a sigh of relief, he began to consider what to do next. But before he could think too much, Ji Hong spoke up, “Prepare two coffins for tonight.”
Duan Ming was taken aback. “Young master… two coffins?”