If you are entangled in an evil fate, you are only half a step away from death.
——Inscription
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The dog whimpered at dusk.
On the 18th day of the fourth lunar month in the 35th year of the Republic of China, the st streak of orange sunlight retreated behind the bck-tiled rooftops. The tall, slender painter Song Ke entered Tang Town with a heavy expression. To him, this remote mountain vilge was like a tattered piece of old cloth—far less vibrant than he had imagined.
Letting out a faint sigh, he felt the pores on his skin slowly open, one by one, strangely receptive as they eagerly inhaled the pine-scented aroma wafting from the cooking smoke.
The smell filled him with a mix of excitement and unease.
As Song Ke walked along the narrow, winding street—the only one in Tang Town—people cast him wary, suspicious gnces, their eyes unfamiliar and guarded. Song Ke felt his gaze was pale, unable to meet theirs. He was a rootless stranger in a foreign nd.
A mangy stray dog lying by the street suddenly rolled over, sticking out its wet tongue and wobbling toward Song Ke with a wheezing sound.
Song Ke had never seen such an ugly dog before. His heart clenched, and he froze in pce.
The stray dog stopped less than a meter away, lifting its head to scrutinize Song Ke with a pair of gloomy eyes. Its nose twitched incessantly, as if trying to catch some peculiar scent emanating from him. Song Ke grew intensely nervous, utterly at a loss in the face of this dog. Would it suddenly attack, leaping at him in a frenzy and tearing into him?
Man and dog stood locked in a standoff, fear surging uncontrolbly within Song Ke.
The sky gradually darkened, and many cold, indifferent eyes along the narrow street were fixed on Song Ke and the dog.
Just as the helpless Song Ke was about to turn and flee, someone rushed over, delivering a fierce kick to the stray dog and cursing, “Damn dog, get lost!”
The dog whimpered, scrambling away in a clumsy panic. After running a short distance, it stopped in a corner, turned its head, and gave Song Ke a meaningful look, its nose still twitching.
Song Ke let out a sigh of relief and turned to see the person who had come to his rescue.
The man before him was short, dressed in a bck cloth shirt patched all over. Song Ke couldn't guess his age, only that he was exceedingly ugly. His features seemed squeezed together, resembling an unripe, shriveled bitter gourd. His eyes were uneven, his mouth crooked, and his dark, coarse skin was dotted with several coin-sized bald patches on his messy head. Song Ke couldn't fathom why, upon arriving in Tang Town, he had already encountered an ugly dog and a person even uglier than the dog.
The man smiled kindly at Song Ke and said, “Don't worry. That dog doesn't bite. Even if it did, no biting dog would dare mess around when it sees me, San Laizi!”
A faint smile spread across Song Ke's face. “Thank you. Would you mind telling me where the town office is?”
San Laizi blinked and asked, “You must be the painter Song from the county, right?”
Song Ke nodded. “Yes, but how did you know?”
San Laizi grinned. “Ask anyone in this town—who doesn't know that a painter named Song is coming back these days? The moment I saw you, a schorly-looking man, I knew you must be the renowned Painter Song.”
Song Ke noticed that the once-cold faces watching him had now softened into smiles. But these flower-like grins, blooming as if in unison, felt distant and unfamiliar, leaving him unable to feel any connection.
San Laizi was inexplicably excited. “Painter Song, let me take you to the mayor.”
“Do you know where the mayor is?” Song Ke asked.
San Laizi raised his voice. “There's nothing in Tang Town that I don't know! The mayor’s drinking right now at the Hongfu Tavern on Emperor Alley.”
(T/N: 皇帝巷, Huángdì xiàng means Emperor Alley or Emperor Line, is described as a more refined and lively part of Tang Town, distinct from the rough and humble main street, with smooth blue brick paving and stately buildings hosting a variety of establishments, including inns, taverns, gambling houses, and brothels.)
Someone nearby called out loudly, “The mayor's at the Hongfu Tavern every day. Even the dogs know that!”
Laughter erupted among the crowd. As the ughter faded, the sky had completely darkened. Were it not for the lights glowing from the homes and shops along the narrow street, Tang Town's little street would have become a shadowy, ghostly path.
Song Ke hadn't expected this tattered, drab town to boast such a lively alley. Unlike the uneven cobblestone surface of the main street, Emperor Alley was paved with smooth blue bricks, providing a steady and reassuring path underfoot.
The buildings lining Emperor Alley, though old, exuded an air of grandeur. Large red nterns hung above each doorway, their glowing inscriptions revealing the alley's bustling businesses—inns, taverns, gambling dens, brothels... To Song Ke's surprise, the town office was also located here, directly across from the Hongfu Tavern.
(T/N: 皇帝巷, Huángdì xiàng means Emperor Alley or Emperor Line, is described as a more refined and lively part of Tang Town, distinct from the rough and humble main street, with smooth blue brick paving and stately buildings hosting a variety of establishments, including inns, taverns, gambling houses, and brothels.)
San Laizi expined that the alley was originally called Xinglong Alley, but once it became a pce for revelry and indulgence, the people of Tang Town started calling it Emperor Alley. In their eyes, emperors lived a life of extravagance and debauchery.
Standing in Emperor Alley, Song Ke felt as if he had stepped into another world. If not for the rumbling of his empty stomach, he might have believed he was lost in a dream.
As Song Ke and San Laizi reached the entrance of the Hongfu Tavern, they heard the lively sounds of drinking games coming from inside.
San Laizi, with an air of seriousness, said to Song Ke, “Painter Song, wait here for a moment. I′ll go in and inform the mayor that you′ve arrived.”
Song Ke watched as San Laizi darted into the Hongfu Tavern like a dog.
Before long, San Laizi came back out, holding a bone in his hand and gnawing on it, followed by a burly, thickset man with a stubbly, bearded face.
Song Ke recognized him immediately. This was Zhong Qi, the man who had come to the county to invite him to Tang Town.
Song Ke smiled at him. “Mr. Zhong—”
Zhong Qi responded cheerfully, “Painter Song, you've arrived! Please come in, please come in.
San Laizi stood aside, grinning awkwardly. Zhong Qi shot him a gre and growled, “Get lost already!”
San Laizi, still clutching the bone in his hand, scurried off in a hurry. As Song Ke stepped inside, he gnced back at the fleeing San Laizi and noticed that he wasn't wearing shoes—his bare feet spping the ground as he ran.
A few years ago, a photographer named Zhang Kacha came to Tang Town. He had traveled from the county because there was no photography studio in the remote town, and the people of Tang Town were unfamiliar with the concept of photography.
