The Beast's Way Out - Chapter 1

I listened from behind the door, itching to rush out again and knock him flat on his back.

My parents sat in the main hall, staring at each other in horror.

“If you take the bones… will they still live?”

My mother’s voice trembled.

The eminent monk smiled. “This humble monk has a secret method to protect their bodies. When your youngest daughter turns eighteen, the bones can be carved out and put back into your eldest daughter and second son.”

“Their sickly bones will be gone. For your eldest daughter, Zhao and the moon shall shine aloft; your second son will become the richest man under heaven. It will be a blessing for your entire family.”

He drew a short knife from his sleeve. It looked utterly ordinary. Then he stuck a yellow talisman to it. The paper gave a brief flicker of light and vanished.

He held the knife out to my father.

My father’s fingers trembled. He didn’t take it. “But… Jiang Li is my daughter too.”

Seeing him hesitate, my mother snatched up the knife and gritted her teeth. “I only want my eldest daughter and second son to be healthy! If Jiang Li becomes a beast, I’ll raise her for the rest of her life!”

My father let out a long sigh and lowered his eyes.

The eminent monk’s gaze shifted and landed on me through the crack in the door. A smile played at the corners of his mouth.

I made a face at him, turned, and ran.

I had gone a long way, yet my heart was still pounding. That line from his song kept circling in my head.

“There’s no future for her as a human. As a beast, though, the road is wide open.”

I was human. How could I become a beast?

That man wasn’t an eminent monk at all. He was a demon monk, a swindler, someone trying to trick my parents into feeding him porridge.

My family was a marquis household. Our ancestor had earned the title on horseback, and by the time it reached my father, it was already the third generation.

It was hereditary in name, but the title was worth less every year.

We had neither real power nor imperial favor. We merely clung to the little prestige our ancestors had left us, barely maintaining our place among the capital’s noble families.

My father was mild by nature, and mild in office too.

He never rushed toward the things other people fought over.

He didn’t scheme, curry favor, send gifts to open doors, join factions, or climb onto the coattails of the powerful.

His colleagues laughed that he was soft, and his superiors thought him dull.

He didn’t care. After court, he went straight home, held a cup of tea while watching my eldest sister practice calligraphy, and changed the dressings on my second brother’s injuries.

Other families were different.

The Cui family had once been no more than sixth rank. They sent their daughter into the palace, and within two years, Master Cui had risen all the way to the upper third rank. The carriages outside his residence grew more numerous by the day, and everyone in the capital looked at him with new respect.

The Wangs, Lis, and Zhaos—who among them wasn’t doing whatever it took to scramble upward?

Some clung to the powerful. Some arranged advantageous marriages.

Some submitted memorials before the Dragon Throne or sent beautiful women into the palace. Their fortunes flourished; splendor surrounded them.

Only my family remained cold and quiet.

In our enormous marquis residence, there was no singing or dancing—only my eldest sister’s coughs and my second brother’s cries when his bones were set.

The windows were bright and clean, yet a layer of medicinal fumes hung over everything. Even the peonies in the courtyard bloomed without much spirit.

I had seen my mother go to the temple every month to burn incense and pray for my sister and brother’s health. She donated silver as if it flowed like water, without the slightest result.

I had also seen my father invite every kind of expert to draw talismans and chant spells. They fussed and fussed, but my sister still coughed, and my brother still broke bones.

I loved my sister and brother too. It was just that they could never leave the house. No one could take me on a spring outing. No one could carry me while I flew a kite.

That day, I didn’t understand what the demon monk meant by Zhao and the moon, but it sounded like a good fate.

I understood being the richest in the region. It meant having money.

With money, I could buy sweet cakes from East Street, a Sun Wukong mask from West Street, and lanterns from South Long Lane. I would give some to my sister and brother too. They would surely smile.

I was crouched on the ground poking at an anthill when a figure climbed over the wall.

Qi Yao flipped over the wall and brushed the dust from his hands after landing.

He looked at me, his brows tightly knotted.

“It’s time to take our turf back. That Wu boy has taken over two whole streets. Didn’t we agree that today you’d knock him onto his back like an upside-down turtle and make him kneel and call you Grandpa?”

He reached out to drag me along.

I pulled my arm free and said seriously, “Qi Yao, I’m not going.”

“I have to nurture my bones at home.”

He froze. “Nurture gu? Why would you raise those poisonous bugs? Creepy. If you want to raise something, raise cicadas. At least you can roast them and eat them.”[1]

I shook my head. “Not a gu. I’m nurturing the bones for my eldest sister and second brother.”

I told him everything I had overheard.

He scratched his head. Then he scratched it again. After a long while, he finally blurted out, “I’ve never heard of anything like that… Isn’t he using you as farmland? It’s probably a scam, right?”

I crouched there without a word.

He leaned closer. “What about you? Did you ask what kind of beast you’ll become after you turn eighteen?”

I thought hard for a moment. “I’ve decided. I want to be a dog. Preferably a mastiff—majestic and fearsome. Anyone who bullies me, I’ll bite to death.”

Qi Yao waved both hands. “No, no. Dogs don’t live long enough. Be a tortoise instead. They live a long time, and you can see me off when I die.”

I glared at him. “Tortoises are ugly! I won’t do it. I want to be a bird—an eagle! Then I’ll fly over Wu Nanfeng’s head and dump a whole load of droppings on him!”

He laughed until he doubled over, and I laughed with him.

Then, in the middle of laughing, I suddenly fell silent. For no reason I could name, a hollow place opened up inside me.

I tugged at his sleeve and asked softly, “Qi Yao, no matter what kind of beast I become, will you recognize me at a glance? When that happens… will you keep me?”

He thrust out his chest and declared, “Little Fence! No matter what beast you become, I’ll recognize you at a glance! If I don’t… bite me as hard as you can, all right?”

I nodded hard. “All right!”

At the time, I still didn’t know that the kind of beast I would become was never mine to choose.

[1] Gu, meaning “bone,” sounds similar to gu, the poisonous creatures associated with certain forms of sorcery. Qi Yao mishears her.