The three of them went from house to house, conducting a thorough investigation. After half a day, nightfall was approaching, and all they came across was a group of rats and a few dirty and skinny cats.
The houses were well-equipped with living essentials, and there was access to water. There was no sign of any abnormalities.
The mysterious disappearance of the villagers frustrated Shi Jingzhi. He wanted to turn around and find Zheng Fengdao, ready to fight to the death. At least Zheng Fengdao would breathe and could be considered a living being.
“A’Ci, remember to leave some coins after we’re done. Do we… Do we have to spend the night here?”
“It’s getting colder these days, and it’s easy to freeze to death sleeping outdoors.” Yin Ci stated the truth. He wasn’t particular and went ahead and borrowed a pot to steam meat and cook porridge, preparing to rest.
Yin Ci understood Shi Jingzhi’s temper well. It was easy to placate his cheap master—once there was someone to accompany him, after his frantic anxiety subsided, he would ultimately resign himself to the situation.
Sure enough, Shi Jingzhi adjusted his cloak and approached Yin Ci.
“Everything is so tidy. It doesn’t seem like the work of bandits.”
“Mm.”
“If there were herds of animals passing through, they wouldn’t leave the livestock untouched.”
“Mm.”
“A’Ci, where do you think the people here have gone?”
Yin Ci scooped a spoonful of hot porridge, turned his head, and fed it to his master, simultaneously diverting his attention. “Shizun, where do you think Yan Qing has gone?”
Shi Jingzhi got agitated in an instant and nearly choked on the porridge. He forcefully pulled Yin Ci out of the house. Yin Ci didn’t even have a chance to put down the iron spoon, and the steam from the rice broth met the cold wind, instantly freezing into a thin layer of ice.
Fortunately, Yan Qing hadn’t vanished into thin air.
He hadn’t gone far when he stopped at the gate of the courtyard. The young man stood in the white snow like a tree that was too straight. He breathed heavily into his frozen red hands and looked bewilderedly at the empty village.
“Yan Qing, let’s go back inside first. This place is eerie, and when it gets completely dark, who knows what might come out…”
“Sect Master, I want to go home and take a look.”
Shi Jingzhi was momentarily stunned, only then realizing what he meant by “home.”
Yan Qing claimed to be half a resident of Xizhuang. He had concealed his identity and joined the Taiheng Sect when he was eleven. Before that, he must have had a home in this village.
But the mixed emotions on Yan Qing’s face made it difficult to discern which ones, if any, were sadness.
This person had a sensitive background, and Shi Jingzhi had never inquired about his childhood experience. Now it seemed that Yan Qing’s life had been even more difficult than he had imagined.
Shi Jingzhi sniffed and said somewhat absentmindedly, “It’s not safe for you to be alone. We’ll accompany you. Um, if you don’t mind…”
“No, it’s okay,” Yan Qing replied hoarsely.
Xizhuang was small, and each farmhouse was tidy and neat. Yan Qing led them through the empty houses and walked towards a corner of the village, stopping in front of a dilapidated house.
The abandoned house was half the size of the surrounding farmhouses. It looked like it had been abandoned for a long time and appeared to be a chaotic pile of ruins from a distance. The courtyard walls were covered in lumps of soil, and the roof had completely collapsed.
At the entrance of the house stood a broken tree, and under the tree was a huge stone covered with snow. As the night grew darker, the snow crust emitted a cold, bluish-gray color.
Yan Qing squatted in front of that stone, wiping away the snow to reveal a series of crooked and twisted markings—
Yan Ziren’s grave.
There were no birth or death dates, just three simple characters.
Even though Shi Jingzhi lacked refinement, he was still greatly shocked to see one bury one’s own father in the backyard and casually use a stone as a tombstone. He coughed up a mouthful of blood before managing to speak. “Yan Qing, this is…”
“My father,” Yan Qing said with a complicated look. He didn’t perform any rituals.
“Isn’t this a bit… Shouldn’t we choose an auspicious time to move his resting place?”
“No need. He showed me kindness, and I supported him until his death. We owe each other nothing.”
Yan Qing found an empty space and sat down, gently rubbing his temples as if trying to vomit out his emotions. “Sect Master, you didn’t ask about my background before, and I’m grateful for that. But now that we’re here, let me tell you so that you can be at ease.”
Yin Ci sensed a touch of resentment and stood quietly beside Shi Jingzhi, appearing attentive.
Yan Qing’s background didn’t involve much bloodshed; it was simple to the point of being ordinary.
His father had sought refuge with the Ling Sect when he was young, but because he lacked ghost eyes, any tokens, and martial arts skills, he was mistaken for a fake and had half of his leg crippled.
It was difficult to reintegrate and be recognized by the sect, but the pursuers from the martial world never let go. Later, his father married Yan Qing’s mother, and to evade the pursuit, they fled to Xizhuang together.
As far back as Yan Qing could remember, Yan Ziren only knew how to drink.
After Yan Qing finished his work and returned home, he would either hear his father mumbling about the ancestor’s great accomplishments or be beaten by him. In rare moments of clarity, his father would only tell him that when he joined the Ling Sect in the future, he would become a respected figure, enjoying a life of luxury, freely choosing women, and living like an immortal.
At this point, Yan Qing fell silent.
He gazed at the stone, devoid of any hatred, as if he were looking at someone unrelated to himself.
Shi Jingzhi momentarily forgot to be afraid and spoke in a softer tone. “And your mother?”
“My mother was pregnant and supported my disabled father all the way here. After giving birth to me, she was gone. She was so sincere, feeding a dog with all her heart. My father married her only because he didn’t want to cut off the Yan family bloodline… My mother doesn’t even have a grave.”
Yan Qing slowly extended his hand, covering his eyes with his palm.
“My father must have wanted these ghost eyes,” Yan Qing said. “He always dreamt of sending me to the Ling Sect to prove that he was a descendant of the Yan family.”
Shi Jingzhi took a breath and asked, “Then why…?”
Before the question was complete, Yan Qing already understood his meaning. “The villagers knew about my ghost eyes, and they kept a close eye on me. They were afraid of me exposing their secret and tarnishing the village’s reputation as a ‘haven for the successor of a demonic sect.’”
Yan Qing withdrew his hand, revealing an unpleasant smile. His red pupils emitted a faint gleam, like extinguished embers.
“Some people wanted to kill me but fear retaliation from Yan Budu’s vengeful spirits, so they dare not make a move… My father once hoped that I would grow older and take him to escape to the Ling Sect. Unfortunately, when I was nine years old, he had a drunken fit, bumped his head on the doorstep, and died.”
“You know what happened next. I changed my surname and joined the Taiheng Sect, where I stayed for ten years.”
Yin Ci suddenly realized. A child who had to bend down to survive wouldn’t care about those elusive and empty sources of pride. Yan Qing’s father was truly useless, subjecting his son to endless hardships, yet failing to instill in him a sense of cynicism.
Taking care of a disabled drunkard from a young age, it was no wonder Yan Qing was so skilled with his hands. Compared to that, the Taiheng Sect could be considered a paradise on earth.
Shi Jingzhi was deeply moved. “I understand now. You’ve come here to officially bid farewell to your father. Ah…”
Yan Qing shook his head. “My father had a finely carved pure silver mountain ghost coin. He treasured it so much that he didn’t exchange it for alcohol. When I left, I was still young and dared not carry it with me, so I buried it under a tree.”
As it turned out, he had come to retrieve money. Shi Jingzhi’s sense of gratitude gradually froze in the chilling wind.
Yan Qing used his sword to dig the soil, and before long, he pulled out a small wooden box. However, as soon as the box was opened, his face froze—
There was no mountain ghost coin inside the box; only a poorly crafted longevity lock*.
*Usually given to a baby to wear on its hands or neck. It expresses people’s good wishes that the lock will bring health and good luck to the child.
Yan Qing threw the box away and rushed straight into the house. The abandoned house had no roof, and it was covered in thick layers of snow. Yan Qing had a clear goal in mind. He found the window and used his fingers to scrape the gaps in the window frame.
He actually scraped out a piece of cloth. The fabric was pure white, indicating that it had been recently placed there.
Yin Ci and Shi Jingzhi crowded together, leaning in to take a closer look.
Blood words were written on the cloth, with fewer words than on the tombstone*. The handwriting was extremely sloppy, as if hastily written: [San Zi, escape quickly.]
*Clarity: In Chinese, it’s fewer characters.
Shi Jingzhi asked, “Who is San Zi?”
“It’s me.” Yan Qing tightly grasped the longevity lock. “It’s impossible. How could A’Si… Sect Master, can we stay here a bit longer? I want to figure out what happened here.”
Shi Jingzhi’s heart softened even further, but his mind remained clear. “Yan Qing, to be honest, the abilities of the Kushan Sect are limited. The situation in Xizhuang is strange, and your friend advised you to escape quickly. It’s best for us to leave as soon as possible to avoid complications.”
Yan Qing’s loyalty and righteousness were admirable. However, his deep bond with the children during his short stay in Xizhuang couldn’t compare to the lives of three members of the Kushan Sect.
As the words left his mouth, Yan Qing also realized that his request was somewhat excessive. Being honest and straightforward, he didn’t know how to manipulate others, so he could only hold the small longevity lock in his hand, feeling helpless.
Yin Ci timely stepped in to mediate. “How about this, let’s wake up earlier tomorrow and explore a bit more before we leave.”
Shi Jingzhi was cautious in his approach, while Demonic Lord Yin was always eager for something new. The longer one lived, the rarer it was to encounter fresh events. Missing out on this village would mean missing out on this opportunity.
Shi Jingzhi didn’t answer, but his jaw was tense, clearly still concerned.
Yin Ci grabbed his master’s arm, adding fuel to the fire. “Grandfather used to tell a similar story. These people may have ‘bumped into an immortal*’. And on Yan Budu’s map, it mentioned Zongwu Mountain, which might be related to this.”
*(撞仙) A term used to refer to accidentally stumbling upon or encountering an immortal or supernatural being, often resulting in unexpected consequences or a supernatural experience.
After pondering for a while, Shi Jingzhi finally relented. “We’ll wake up at the hour of the tiger and spend another three hours investigating before we depart.”
The three of them returned to the house, each with a bowl of meat porridge, and carefully sealed the doors and windows. Yan Qing tidied up his few belongings, sat down against the wall, and didn’t close his eyes all night.
The night passed without any incidents.
Shi Jingzhi kept his word and woke up precisely at the hour of the tiger. It was freezing cold, and Yin Ci clung to the bed, unwilling to get up. The room was too small for the bamboo rod method to be effective, making it difficult to employ the poking technique.
Shi Jingzhi sneered twice and went outside to take a walk. When he returned to the room, he rolled up his sleeves and, with his two icy hands, reached into the blanket and touched Yin Ci’s shoulder and neck.
Demonic Lord Yin nearly exploded on the spot.
He had no choice but to begrudgingly get out of bed, intentionally preparing a tasteless breakfast.
Throughout the night, nothing unusual happened, which gave Shi Jingzhi some confidence. He comforted Yan Qing, who had lost his appetite. “Yesterday, we arrived too late, and it was too dark to see clearly. Now that it’s getting brighter outside, we might find some clues.”
Yan Qing’s eyes turned green, and he absent-mindedly responded, “May the Sect Master’s words be true.”
Yin Ci finished his breakfast early, feeling bored. “Tell me about your friend. With such a close relationship, have you stayed in contact all this time?”
“We haven’t seen each other in ten years, so I thought he was dead.”
Yan Qing had a blank expression on his face, and his chopsticks were suspended in mid-air.
“…A’Si wouldn’t come back to the village just to stay. He must have come specifically to find me.”
The master and disciple exchanged a glance—based on this statement, “A’Si” didn’t seem like an ordinary childhood playmate. It was also understandable considering that Yan Qing had grown up with a pair of blood-red ghost eyes, even if the villagers reluctantly accepted him, they wouldn’t allow their own children to get involved with such “dirty things”.
If someone could play with Yan Qing, they must not be an ordinary person.
Shi Jingzhi took over the conversation. “Your friend doesn’t live in the village?”
“No. The shortcut we took when we came here was the route he used to help me escape.”
“People in the village call him the ‘Cuckoo Calamity’, keeping their distance… Now that I think about it, I don’t know if he can be considered human.”
The author has something to say:
Present-time Fox Shi: Slips a cold hand into the blanket.
Demonic Lord Yin: ?!
Future Fox Shi: Entirely burrows into the blanket.
Demonic Lord Yin: (embraces)
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