Spirit Gallows

Wu Lei put his foot one after the other on the steep and narrow precipice, overlooking the maw of one of the most dangerous places on Earth. He gazed at his surroundings. What had he gotten himself into? It was a massive quarry with rings of excavated stone and dirt, so dark and so big he could not see the other side. Like a mountain but reversed, instead of rising above the ground, boring deep down into it until nothing was left but a crater. Ghastly and supernatural spirits rose from the depths of the pit, hauntingly green, yellow, and blue in colour all mixed into a cool shade at once, their voices screaming faintly in the boy’s ears. They fluidly slithered into the air directly from the bottom of the pit, which was a bright, blurry light of the same cool shade of colour as the spirits, as if a doorway to the underworld. 

All around the ring plateaus that continued down the pit getting smaller and smaller were the gallows. Lei had seem them before at any local village. But these ones were paranormal in nature. People came here all the time, inspired by legend, to trade their identities if they were not satisfied with theirs. The only payment was your own identity. When you accepted you would be hanged at these gallows and your soul was to be pulled from your body and replaced with the one you bought. People did it frequently, or so it was told. It was impossible nowadays to tell who had traded their identity for someone else’s; one neighbour here used to be a different one there, faces and personalities switched like the flip of a coin.

That’s what Lei was here for. He’d do whatever it’d take to trade identities with his idol, Xiao Ling, the greatest pianist who ever lived. He was a grandmaster at his craft, treating it as an art of pure grace and excellence. It was said he was born a master, coming out of the womb of his mother ready to play Liszt’s La Campanella with the first piano he saw. He held very few people in high-esteem. He was flawless, a performer, a perfectionist supreme. Only his mother and father have seen him hit a wrong note on the piano, and the times they had could be counted on one hand.

Lei began humming the tune to Eine kleine Nachtmusik as he tiptoed around large pebbles and stalky patches of grass, making his way closer to the bottom of the pit. He didn’t know where he was going exactly, himself an example much like a little child who has just been given the freedom to roam. He had not the quietest clue about how the spirit gallows worked, or how to sell and buy identities, or--oh, dear! He slipped!

He felt his collar being yanked back not an instant after. Who had done it?

“What is a child doing venturing at a place like this?” said a gruff and arrogant voice from behind him, the man who had saved him from death.

Lei brushed his cargo trousers and turned around. He gasped. There he was, in all his prestigious glory! His idol, Xiao Ling! He was sitting on a mound, forearms resting on his knees in front of him, hunched over as if watching or waiting for something, staring ahead at the massive glowing pit. He was wearing his usual black tuxedo, the blazer overflowing behind him getting dirty on the area he was sitting. His two block black hair combed neatly and elegantly.

“Sir! It’s an honour to meet you!” said Lei, unable to contain his excitement. He knew Xiao Ling preferred humble people. “I can’t believe you’re here! You’re just the person I was looking for!”

“Ah, so you are him, then,” said Xiao Ling.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t you know how this place works, boy?”

Lei shook his head.

“Souls yearn to be others, that much is true. Souls all around the world wish to be me. But only when they actively search for this place are the identities they wish to be also called here. I came here not by choice, but by the phantom binding of our identities.”

“I brought you here?”

“I am called here every week. By some idiot, usually very young like you, who wants to be me so terribly that they risk their lives going to this place. That is why I am here.”

“I’m so sorry, sir! I didn’t mean to--” and then the piano grandmaster pulled him closer and slammed a hand on his mouth. 

“Quiet! You don’t want the reavers to hear you. They will come and try to sell you others’ identities so you can sell yours, like annoying salesmen.”

Lei nodded, his mouth still covered. Then he was let go.

“What is your name, boy?”

“Wu Lei, sir.”

“Come, Lei. We need to get out of this dangerous place first. Then I must ask why you brought me here.”

#

Lei had no idea who he wanted to be. He had reached fifteen years old a month ago with no direction in life and no path to follow, so it was only expected that he would eventually long to have the identity of his childhood hero. 

“Keep your hands steady,” said Xiao Ling, hands behind his back and stiffly standing tall by him at the grand piano. He occasionally corrected the boy’s elbows with a palm. “Arms at that length. Posture is everything. Your fingers must be relaxed and slightly curved. Each finger must have equal strength like the warriors of an army. Your index fingers cannot head into the battle strong while leaving behind your weak pinkies. Left hand included. So you must warm them up with scales. Play the C major scale with both hands at the same time forwards and backwards.” Lei followed. “Good. Now play what you know.”

Lei did. His mind eased with peace as he lost himself in his own music. Clair de lune. His favourite piece to play first with any piano, and a beloved classic around the world.

“Stop! Horrible! Horrible!” Xiao Ling slapped Lei’s hands like a striking viper. “You have no sense of the timing of the measures. Have you ever practiced with a metronome? One cannot ignore the importance of right tempo. And you sound like you’ve never read the sheet music. The timings are uneven, sometimes it’s too early, sometimes it’s too late. And goodness, dynamics are important! You press the keys too hard, and then other times I can’t hear certain notes I’m supposed to with your other fingers. And your dramatic head movements! Tiān nǎ! Susmaryosep! I’m having a headache! Passion is good, but you are not at that level yet, my boy. Do you want to be an exhibitionist?”

“Of course not, sir!”

“Then practice! Ay, che macello!”

Where are we now, you might ask? Two weeks had gone by since the visit to the spirit gallows. Out of love or pity, Lei did not know, the piano grandmaster had taken him as his apprentice. The boy was elated of course, to have a teacher of such aptitude and wisdom, but there was still one thing that bothered him.

Lei pushed back the stool and stood up in defiance. “I can’t learn from you.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want to be like you. The same path. You never had a teacher. You taught yourself everything you know. How can I learn from someone? That would ruin the integrity of my skill--let alone learn from the very best there is!”

Standing there in front of him, to Xiao Ling, the little boy resembled a little version of the man himself so much that he was hit with a wave of nostalgia. Lei was there, in his own black suit with white cuffs, hair combed neatly to one side. Acting distastefully and conceited. The piano grandmaster recalled a time when he had done this exact same thing himself to his mother, the woman who had originally taught him how to play the piano. He had been wrong. 

“Let me buy your identity,” said the boy. “I will perform just as well as you. I promise.”

“No, no. None of that,” said Xiao Ling, shaking his head at the poor thought. 

“Please! I know mine isn’t worth much, but it has potential, wouldn’t you say? I may have things you don’t have. Are you married? I have a girlfriend back home, she’s very pretty and smart, and I plan on marrying her. If we trade identities you will have her. Oh! My mother--she’s the best one in the whole wide world, you’ll have her too, and, and my friends--we can be back here from the gallows by noon--”

“Be quiet!”

The boy shut up, ashamed of what he had said. 

Xiao Ling exhaled and put a hand to his forehead, closing his eyes. “You will keep your girlfriend,” he said. “You will keep your mother. You will not have my talents. You will reach my capability through your own hard work.”

“I… I’ve worked hard all my life, sir. I never improve. I don’t think I have any talent. But I want to be a grandmaster pianist like you so, so badly. But all I do are make mistakes, all I do is disappoint, all I am is a worthless child who doesn’t have what it takes to be you.”

Xiao Ling looked up at the helpless boy. “Follow me, Lei.”

#

They walked through the streets of Wuxi. The piano grandmaster had a hand on the boy’s shoulder the entire time, garnering strange looks from the locals, who likely recognized him and wondered what he was doing with the boy. They walked over arched stone bridges lined with cherry blossoms and open markets of people selling vegetables in stands--the smell of one Lei breathed in deeply and the other he wrinkled his nose at discontentedly--the onions and turnips the most. With his connections and wealth, Xiao Ling talked and payed through half a dozen people until before the boy knew it, they were taking a ferry through the Grand Canal.

Not a personal ferry, even though Xiao Ling could certainly afford it. It hindered on Lei’s comfort, with strangers leering at them on the dock as they watched the front of the boat cut through the water. Lei’s master had his hands behind his back as usual, standing as if his spine was attached to a plank of wood, staring emotionlessly forward.

“See,” said Lei, “I think these people don’t like me. They’ve heard you’ve taken a new apprentice and they don’t like the idea of you teaching someone to your level. They think I’m weak enough to beg for a teacher. Maybe they know I have no talent as well.”

“These people are fools,” said Xiao Ling, “if what you say is true. But none of it is. Ask anyone why they are staring at us. The woman on your right. Go.”

She was a young woman in a hanfu--top half white, bottom half lavender--holding an oil-paper umbrella. And, oh my, she was elegant and mature.

“Excuse me,” said Lei to her, “do you know why everyone is staring at us?” He referred to him and his master.

The quiet woman humbly replied, “Ah, this is the first time the great Xiao Ling has taken an apprentice. It is news to everyone.”

Lei turned back to his master. “I told you! They find me unappealing.”

“You failed to listen. They know nothing about you. This is about me. I am teaching an apprentice for the first time. That is why they are bothered.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“You need to correct your self-important ways, Lei. Only then can we move forward on your training. Admit you don’t know everything yet.”

“But I admit that, sir. It’s why I want your identity! I need your talents.”

“You’ll admit it when you accept me as your teacher.”

The boy went silent.

“You have my talents. Don’t you see? It’s all about the transfer now. Like a river flowing down a mountain. I am at the top because I have already climbed it, feeding you my talents of water, and now you don’t have to climb the cliffs yourself to reach me. You can now swim upstream, because of me.”

The boy remained silent.

“Have you ever heard of Xiao Min?”

“No sir,” said Lei.

“She was a great pianist of her time. She could sightread faster than anyone I know.”

“I’ve heard of her,” interrupted the woman Lei had spoken to earlier. “She could play complex arpeggios with her left hand with her eyes closed. Her solos in her orchestral days were legendary.”

Lei stared at her as if she had violated their privacy. Xiao Ling nudged him and gave him a stern look that said it was okay. “Yes, she was an amazing pianist,” he continued, “and she was my mother.”

“No way!” said Lei.

“At the time, she taught me everything I knew about the piano. I would not be able to call myself an expert today without her being my teacher.”

The woman smirked. “That goes against the legends.”

“It sure does!” Lei nodded his head vigorously. “To think you had to learn from someone else how to be as extraordinary as you are! I can’t believe it!”

They passed more houses on the side of the canal. The ferry churned through the flat water serenely. The sun was setting and it was getting dark. Soon lanterns would light up the city.

“Let them be angry,” said Xiao Ling, referring to the people the boy was worried about. “I did not take you in because I saw something in you. I took you in because you reminded me of me. I started out exactly like you. An amateur. Hoping to become the greatest there ever was. Yet I was so terrible at the piano, it looked certain I was not cut to be a pianist.”

“Impossible,” said Lei.

“Oh, but it isn’t. That is how all grandmasters start. They get rejected from their dream schools, they fail to perform when they get the chance, they cry in the dark of their rooms on lonely nights. When anyone begins, no matter who they are, no matter what they think, no matter how good they are, they learned from a teacher. There is no shame in having a teacher. A teacher is the path to what you want. Generations of amateurs becoming better than their teachers, the new becoming greater than the old, is how progress is made and a pinnacle is reached.”

“Help me believe it, sir. I don’t want to go through the pain you talk about only to fail at reaching my goals. The spirit gallows are a shortcut.”

“Why do you speak so casually about taking my life?”

“I will be you, sir. I will do a good job at being you.”

The piano grandmaster chose to take a break from listening to him. He faced the woman on the other side of the boy.

“Not many people wear clothing like that these days,” he said. “Who are you?”

The woman smiled. “My name is Shen Jia. Funny that you two were talking about the spirit gallows.”

“Do you know something?” said Lei.

“I am a spirit guide,” she said. “I belong there. I aid the souls who transfer their identities in the market through the process.”

Xiao Ling raised an eyebrow. “You’re not human?”

“I’m a phantom. But tangible.” She squeezed the piano grandmaster’s arm playfully as if to prove herself. He winced in surprise.

“What do you mean by market?”

“Like any other. You hang your souls at the gallows and they go for sale. Your body stays unconscious there in the meantime. Others can buy your soul with their souls. The reavers help with the whole process by instigating these trades, through subconscious advertisement to their minds. Once a trade is accepted, one of them switches their identities.”

“I’ve visited there,” said Lei. “I didn’t see any reavers. What do they look like? How dangerous are they?”

“Very dangerous,” she said, gripping her umbrella tighter. “Reavers aren’t physical creatures. They’re incorporeal and dreamlike. They exist in another dimension, bleeding onto our dimensional plane by haunting people to sell their identities.”

Oh my. Now that’s an interesting way to describe them.

The ride finished soon after dark began. The ferry stopped to the side and began unloading people. Wu Lei, Xiao Ling, and Shen Jia walked off together, with Xiao Ling leading the way back home.

#

The ground began to rumble. 

Buildings were shaking and windows were shattering. People yelled in panic. Someone shouted, “Earthquake!” and the streets went into pandaemonium.

In the chaos, Lei was separated from Xiao Ling and Shen Jia. The piano grandmaster locked eyes with the boy far away, seeing desperation in them. He knew exactly what Lei was going to do. “Lei! Come back here! Now!” he ordered. 

But the boy only said, “The spirit gallows might be destroyed, master! I must get there as soon as possible, to salvage any of them if they are! I will purchase your identity and try to get a reaver to get you to sell it to me. I promise I will be the greatest pianist who ever lived!” Then he ran off.

The spirit gallows were around two hours north of the city on foot. Lei was fit and nimble, and an older man such as Xiao Ling would never be able to catch him. But the boy was going to call him there anyway, and it would happen like an irresistible urge to travel to the gallows, like a parasite in the mind. Sooner or later, like a siren’s calling, Xiao Ling would make his way there too--depending on how badly the boy wanted to be him.

“He’s going to the spirit gallows,” Xiao Ling told Shen Jia as the ground beneath them continued to rumble.

“Where’s your hired driver?” she said. “You may be able to catch him before he ever gets there.”

“There is no time to try and find him. He is going there to buy my identity. I need you to come with me when I get compelled to go there myself.”

“Why?”

“Can you help?”

“I can be his guide and see if I can persuade him to not go through with the purchase.”

“Okay.”

“But I must tell you--I’ve been exiled from the gallows for wanting to explore the city. I cannot return.”

“Donnerwetter! You can’t be serious.”

“However, there is one solution.”

#

“Let’s begin,” she said.

The earthquake had ceased an hour ago and they were back at Xiao Ling’s piano room. The piano grandmaster was meditating, eyes closed, standing in the centre of the room as the spirit guide circled around him.

“When you are there at the gallows, the only way to call me is to long for my identity, much like how Lei will do to you soon. You have to want to be me,” said Shen Jia.

“Ha! A woman! Tell me, what does a woman’s life like yours have to offer?”

She frowned. She thought for a moment. Then she said, “My life has been relatively simple. I don’t live materially, and until recently I’ve never left the spirit gallows. But most of all, I’ve never felt the pain of failure.”

Xiao Ling became interested. “Go on.”

Shen Jia stepped closer to him until her chin was right on his shoulder and her hands were on his chest. “Is that not what you want? Above all? To be perfect?”

“Yes,” he said, believing it, eyes still shut with concentration. He felt her breaths on his neck.

She twirled gracefully like water behind him, the sleeves of her hanfu spinning fluidly, until she ended up behind him again, resting her chin on his other shoulder, her fingers tracing his arm. “You’ll acquire this body too. Clear skin. Beautiful. You’ll be perfect.” She caressed his cheek with a finger.

He tried to remain perfectly still. “You’re a witch,” he said.

“In a way.” She giggled softly and high-pitched. “Well, did it work?”

“Yes. I long to be you.”

“Good. Now at any moment, you’ll be called to the spirit gallows. You need to stop that boy if you want to remain as yourself.”

#

Lei had no strict plan. He had no idea how he was going to find a reaver to convince his master to sell his identity. But the earthquake had been devastating, and to see if the gallows were intact was enough motivation for him to go there once again. That was enough reason to risk his life once more--his master promised to teach him, but how many people could go through the amount of pain and failure the piano grandmaster had gone through to reach his point? The boy was weak. He had not the will nor strength to endure years and years of hard work--he wanted to be Xiao Ling, the greatest pianist who ever lived--now! So he had to make sure the spirit gallows had not been destroyed. It was his last hope to achieve his dream.

The dream, of course, was not as superficial as it seemed. It stemmed from the invalidation from his girlfriend, who wished him to play the hardest classical pieces in order to please her enough to marry him. He knew how to play but he wasn’t all that great, nowhere near the level of a master. If this was the only way for her to love him back as much as he loved her, he would steal his master’s identity in an instant.

The gallows were all intact when Lei arrived. He breathed a sigh of relief. Then he remembered something--Xiao Ling was going to be here soon. He might never get the chance again to come back here. If he was to trade identities with the piano grandmaster, it had to be now.

He was clueless to how to hang his spirit. A spirit gallows looked just like any other gallows. If he tied the rope around his neck and went ahead with it, what would happen? Would he die? He didn’t wait to find out. He began preparing the knot.

Xiao Ling arrived not a moment after.

“Lei, step away.”

The boy faced him, stunned. 

Xiao Ling closed his eyes and began meditating. He imagined a life of no pain and no failure. Of being perfect in every way, of living simply, of being a humble spirit guide. When he opened his eyes, Shen Jia was there, smiling in front of him.

“Thank you,” she said. “You brought me past the barrier into here. You brought me out of my exile.”

“Stop the boy,” he said.

Slowly, she turned and walked to Lei. She took the rope out of his hands and gently placed it over his neck. The man and boy were stunned.

“What are you doing?” said Xiao Ling, his face red with anger.

“You need it tight,” she told Lei, tightening the knot around his neck as he stood still in utter surprise. “When you get hanged, your soul will be pulled out of your body by the rope. You will be in the spirit world. I will meet you there and show you the way to Xiao Ling’s identity. In turn, I will guide his soul to your body after as well.”

“Traitor!” Xiao Ling tried running to her, but something mentally stopped himself. It felt like a force of love. “What have you done to me?”

“Nothing,” she said smugly. “You were the one who longed to be me. Don’t you know if you long to be a creature like me, you give me control of your soul?” She laughed. “Why would you think I was on your side? I’m a spirit guide. I aid the identity transformations. I work for the reavers. In fact…”

She looked at me.

“I have them both ready. You can come out now!”

“Who are you talking to?” said Xiao Ling.

My voice echoed around the pit, dark and booming.

“She’s talking to me.” 

Surprise. It’s me, the reaver. 

Have you noticed any odd things while hearing the story so far? You may have noticed subtle phrases of exclamations here and there, or the odd question or two between the sentences of the story, seemingly out of place. That is because this story very well does have a conscious narrator, one with a charming personality if I say so myself. Me. How did you like my storytelling?

“Show yourself and come fight me, demon!” yelled Xiao Ling to me. Or, rather, at the sky, because he could not see me and did not know where to project his voice.

It was me from the very beginning. I influenced Lei from the start to act the way he did with my narration. I gave him his reasons. I gave him his fiery desire. I whispered in his ear--figuratively, of course, I cannot give away how we reavers actually do it--that he needed Xiao Ling’s identity to be a grandmaster at the piano, in order to play the pieces he wanted to for his girlfriend. But, let me tell you the truth. The truth is, me and Shen Jia--we lied about the swapping of bodies during an identity trade. The bodies don’t swap at all. One becomes the other and vice versa, but both remain the same physically. But how the world will view them will change completely. I must say, the spirit gallows have been used quite a lot since the start of the twenty-first century. I used to only have the odd traveller or two come by in the previous centuries, wandering by the pit they reside. Very few customers to advertise the service to. But today? The world is now full of people who are someone else. It’s plain to see everywhere, isn’t it? The unoriginality. If not, you’ll see what I mean. Perhaps when you get older, and perhaps when you get wiser. You will accept it and you will get used to it. Oh! And you’ll thank me for everything.

“Vixen! Get me out of this mind trap!” said Xiao Ling, still struggling and failing to hurt her with every attempt. He was still, as if his entire body were locked with chains. Shen Jia put a hand to her mouth, smiling and giggling, teasing the poor man once more by resting her chin on his shoulder behind him, embracing him from behind.

“Poor, poor Xiao Ling,” she teased.

I used this opportunity to enter the piano grandmaster’s mind. I made him yearn to be a young boy with no talent. It was near impossible, with the type of personality the man had, but reavers never failed. I told him he wasn’t happy with his life, that his riches and fame made him a superficial man. That he was alone and miserable with his luxuries and reputation of flawlessness he had to uphold. You can call us parasites. We dig down to our host’s deepest sorrows and make them wish to be someone else. We know humans are craving creatures--they’re never satisfied. Because of this they’re never happy. Sometimes we make a man without a mansion want one, and other times a man with a mansion not want one. We make them desire anyone but themselves. We never fail.

#

Here we are! At the end of the story.

It was an interesting ride, I must say. A turn of events so mildly exciting--

Oh. You want to hear the ending, don’t you? I’ll spare you the details and cut right to it then. Let me tell you what happens in the end. 

In the end, the boy doesn’t become greater than his master. In fact, he becomes an average player. He can play. But he is boring and quite ordinary. But one time he is in America--he moved there with his girlfriend much later--and is playing for her on a piano at home. She is sitting on a chair, listening to him play, enjoying each note. He is bobbing his head to the music, fully happy, in every sense of the word I mean. Looking like a madman doing so, making his girlfriend laugh. She thinks he is hilarious. He is content with the moment and his skills. He is mediocre.

###