When I was very young, there was a street near my home that ran from beginning to end with open-air vendors selling all sorts of strange and wonderful things. From coins to clocks, from matchboxes to rosewood furniture – it had everything imaginable.
I loved walking down this street in a zigzag pattern, never missing a single vendor, looking at each one in turn, always left wanting more.
Some things were sold cheaply, others were astronomical prices for me, but all these objects shared one common trait – they weren’t new.
Later I learned this was called antiques.
From then on, my obsession with antiques became unstoppable.
My friends scorned my hobby. They preferred bright, shiny new things – objects that belonged completely to them from the moment of manufacture.
They thought antiques were just things people had abandoned and didn’t want anymore.
I disagreed.
Those dusty but still magnificent objects, precisely because they had survived countless years without breaking or being damaged, remaining visible to people, made them special and displayed an undeniable splendor.
Unlike mass-produced new items, each had different owners, each had its own story, each was so unique that even every crack and chip had distinctive history.
When I touched these objects, I felt I could instantly travel through years of time and space, sensing the moment of their creation. Though the vendors’ boasts were so unreliable, it never hindered my imagination from running wild.
Perhaps what was sold on that street couldn’t truly be called antiques – just old things.
Later, I learned real antiques were kept in museums. From then on, whenever I visited a city, I’d head straight to its museum first.
The Ru kiln ceramics at Beijing’s Palace Museum, the jade pig-dragon at Liaoning Provincial Museum, the Warring States crystal cup at Hangzhou History Museum, the calligraphy with “Tuan” seal at Shanghai Museum, the shocking sacrificial horse pit at Hubei Provincial Museum, the golden threaded jade burial suit at Taipei Museum, the bronze masks at Sichuan Sanxingdui Museum… Through those glass cases, that heavy history was displayed completely before me, utterly captivating.
I’d always wanted to write a novel about antiques. Stories bubbled up in my mind like air bubbles rising from underwater.
Could an ancient mirror connect two thousand years of time, creating love between a man and woman from different eras?
Could a bracelet allow wishes on each gemstone to recover things once lost?
Could an incense candle have burned for a thousand years, shedding tears for a thousand years, waiting for that special someone?
Could a porcelain pillow make dreams come true, or only nightmares?
Could a sharp sword carry curses while still keeping promises made thousands of years ago?
Could a bamboo slip seal ancient powerful beasts, though the slip itself was fragile as paper?
Could a jade statue exchange souls between people, completely reversing two people’s worlds?
Could a wooden puppet carry two thousand years of love, manifesting the world its master desired?
Could a seed still sprout after two thousand years, needing only blood and tears for nourishment?
Could an oil-paper umbrella be entangled with a grieving soul, proving reality wasn’t as beautiful as legend suggested?
Could a longevity lock truly protect children’s lives, granting long life and hundred years?
Could a red dragon robe preserve the body from decay for a thousand years, granting eternal youth?
Thus “Mute House” was born.
An antique shop filled with rare treasures, a mysterious antique shop owner.
In the blink of an eye, Mute House had twelve complete stories. Looking back, I could hardly believe Mute House had accompanied me for nearly a year.
When I wrote the final word of the ending, an unwillingness to let go lingered.
Each Mute House story contains truths I wanted to convey. I believe everyone who loves Mute House will find different insights in the stories. The real protagonists of Mute House aren’t the Boss or the doctor, but those antiques that can never tell their own stories.
The Ancient Mirror story had existed in my computer for several years, just an outline that I’d never written. You could say Ancient Mirror came first, then Mute House. After a certain opportunity, I wrote it in one go, and even I was moved by the finished piece. Originally, Ancient Mirror was planned for about fifty thousand words, but compressed to ten thousand, the hero and heroine’s meeting and understanding became more touching despite the brevity.
“Fragrant Consort’s Chain” came from my hatred of losing things. Though I’m not careless, I scatter things everywhere, and not finding them is like losing them. Heaven knows how much I wish I could use Baidu search to locate things – just type on the computer and see where I put my stuff… Ahem… just complaining. Fragrant Consort’s Chain reflects how lost things are most precious. Faint regret always lingers in memory, but sometimes deliberately seeking what’s lost isn’t as beautiful as remembered.
“Mermaid Candle” took the most time to write. To infuse the text with Buddhist flavor, I read dozens of Buddhist sutras in the library. Though only a few sentences made it into the text, this Buddhist reading experience benefited me greatly. The Gu Long-style writing was also my favorite – that light sadness like mermaid candle smoke permeating between lines, making readers melancholy. “How long is a human life?” This philosophical question runs through the entire text, and the young monk’s different answers represent his growing spiritual changes. How long is a human life? How would you answer?
“Yellow Millet Pillow’s” inspiration came from my nightly dreams. Perhaps my imagination is too rich – my dreams are bizarre every night, sometimes horror movies, sometimes American blockbusters, sometimes Korean melodramas… I always wondered: are sweet dreams better, or nightmares? Sweet dreams coming true would be good, but what about nightmares coming true? Hmm… so I let the doctor test this question for me. The effect was pretty good~ Anyway, you can’t daydream~ Actually, those ancient porcelain pillows were really uncomfortable to sleep on…
Speaking of “King of Yue’s Sword,” that story actually expresses the theme I wanted to convey throughout Mute House. Every antique has a spirit, or rather, every object is special. Everyone must cherish what they use, not waste it, not casually discard it. I have a celadon teapot I use daily for tea, treasuring it greatly. But one day while washing it, I accidentally dropped it. Fortunately it didn’t break, but it got several chips, breaking my heart. That night I dreamed of a little boy with scraped face coming to complain to me… Really… sigh… Though it’s still usable, I still regret it terribly… wuwuwu… Well, actually it was just my thoughts by day becoming dreams by night… Also, museums are really scary when empty…
“Classic of Mountains and Seas” has a larger story framework that could support an entire epic, but I condensed it here. The adorable proud Qiong Qi, scheming lazy Huan Gou, plus beautiful San Qing bird – too cute, I really want to raise them!~ So I had them make a brilliant appearance in the Red Dragon Robe finale. Though in modern society, their existence from mythological times really violates natural laws… but considering Mute House’s entire fantasy setting, it still fits… ahem…
The opening of “Aquamarine” truly came from one of my nightmares. Opening my eyes, I saw my own corpse… Such nightmares left deep impressions, but I could never remember how they developed, so I tried starting this mystery story. But… I’m really sorry to Detective Conan that I’ve watched for ten years! I’m such a mystery idiot!! Fortunately, with editor Su Ying’s help, I managed to complete this story… When we first chatted about who should be the murderer, I said, “How about the editor kills the novelist?” Su Ying immediately said angrily: “Then the motive must be missing deadlines!” Me: … (I’ll never dare go to KTV with you again! =口=…)
“Witch Voodoo Doll’s” prototype was actually the once-popular voodoo dolls, which reminded me of Chen Ajiao’s era voodoo dolls. Besides cursing people to death, voodoo seemed most commonly used by women praying for men to return their affections. But is lost love really worth sacrificing everything for? In the text, the voodoo doll is the most pitiful, always performing a one-person show only one person can see, whether two thousand years ago or two thousand years later… This story’s inspiration was tragedy, so the ending is bleak, but for the voodoo doll, such an ending might not be bad.
Who says antiques in Mute House have no life? Poppy seeds have life! They even crossed two thousand years, performing a romance transcending human-beast love into human-flower love… ahem… that’s some powerful complaining… This subverts Xiang Yu’s mighty image – perhaps Western Chu Overlord Xiang Yu was a soft-hearted farming man, perhaps Yu Meiren was just a flower, not a person… Hey! This is my historical parody, don’t take it as real history! Remember, remember… Actually General Xiang Yu was super mighty… really…
Well, readers of a certain age shouldn’t forget “New Legend of White Snake.” Though that TV series now makes you get goosebumps with its occasional Huangmei opera interludes, when I was young, it had quite high ratings. Later came the movie “Green Snake” – the White Snake story is familiar to everyone. But in this seemingly happy ending legend, the first betrayer was Xu Xian, who made his wife drink realgar wine – a man poisoning a woman who loved him. Perhaps fairy tales aren’t so pure, perhaps legends aren’t so beautiful…
The two “Longevity Lock” and “Red Dragon Robe” stories mainly focus on Qin Dynasty history. I once read a book by Mr. Cheng Bu about reading history differently. Actually, the so-called “history” recorded in historical books is just “past news.” And the so-called “news” reported by media could completely become “future history.”
So those events in historical records are worth pondering, especially the Qin Dynasty so distant from our time. Perhaps from the Boss’s perspective, Emperor Qin Shihuang was a sage ruler; perhaps in our common understanding, Emperor Qin Shihuang was a tyrant. What kind of person Emperor Qin Shihuang really was has various opinions, but the examples I cited in the text were all seriously researched. If interested, you can read more historical books, check whether Emperor Qin Shihuang really didn’t wrongfully kill any generals or ministers during his 37-year reign, see what important role the Great Wall played in Chinese history, examine Qin Dynasty’s laws, official systems, legislation… From 221 BCE to today, the centralized unified state established by Emperor Qin Shihuang has lasted over two thousand years. No other country in human history has had such vigorous vitality. Did the Qin Dynasty really fall? In some sense, no – setting aside dynastic concepts, China still stands strong despite changing times.
As for the final Mount Li mausoleum underground palace, that’s naturally my imagination. With tomb-robbing themes popular now, I tried writing such a segment – it felt really good~ When checking tomb-robbing reference materials, I suddenly saw a picture of a tomb-robbing talisman in the book and found it super familiar. I remembered a friend gave me one the year before, just saying it was for warding off evil. I rummaged through boxes to find it… indeed almost identical… it’s a pangolin claw with silver seal script on the back. Tomb-robbing talismans were evil-warding objects used by ancient tomb robbers, legendarily serving as ID cards for the tomb-robbing faction’s gold-touching captains… hehe… treasuring it well~
Mute House’s twelve stories each have different focuses and varied themes – romance, fantasy, mystery, horror, history, tomb-robbing… I varied my writing style, trying different genres, writing with great satisfaction. Here I must thank chief editor Yang Xiaoxie – without his demanding requirements, there wouldn’t be such diverse Mute House presentation, which really inspired me greatly. I also thank editor Su Ying – without her diligent deadline reminders and patient story discussions, Mute House wouldn’t have met everyone so quickly… Special thanks to Mute House illustrator Xiao Bo – hehe, from the first Ancient Mirror illustration to the current beautiful Mute House cover, everyone can see how I pushed him, making someone who only drew cute girls learn to draw handsome guys – really not easy! Of course, thanks to art editor Sunshine for pushing him with me…
Thanks to the “Comic Guest – Novel Illustrated” platform for letting Mute House open… Thanks to Novel Illustrated’s lovely readers – Mute House’s present couldn’t exist without your support… I hope everyone gains insights from the stories, falls in love with our country’s history, with those historical antiques, and ultimately with every small thing around you.
Mute House ends here, but the Boss remains, and Mute House still operates. Perhaps before long, “Mute House II” will appear… Hu Hai, who also lived over two thousand years – what’s his ultimate purpose?
Ah, didn’t I say these are stories that can’t be told! Want to know? Ancient objects immersed in long years – only time can prove everything~~~
Everything is in “Mute House”…
The antiques in Mute House each have their own stories, bearing many years with no one to listen.
Because they cannot speak…
Shh…