Chapter 57 A Glimpse into the Secrets of a Century (Part 4): Transformation.

“Ayin.”

As she was pondering this, a gray-blue figure silently stopped beside her desk.

Feng Zhizhao looked up and, upon seeing the person's face, her gaze sharpened and her whole body tensed up.

The newcomer was slender and wore the distinctive gray-blue robe of a steward in the inner court of the Feng Zhi family. He was none other than Feng Zhiyuan, a trusted advisor to the family head. He raised his hand in a gesture of calm, indicating that she should remain composed. "You need not panic. I am not here to forcibly take you back. You should understand that if the family head truly intended to do so, you would not be able to leave Qiangquan within a hundred miles."

He paused briefly, his gaze calmly settling on her face. "But there's something you need to know. After you left, Xue took all the blame for you. She's always been frail, and some of the suffering she endured shouldn't have been hers to bear."

Upon hearing this, Feng Zhizhao's clear gaze swept over them, carrying a cold indifference that revealed her understanding of the world. "Suffer for me? When did the Feng Zhi family, which treats people as pawns and vessels, learn to put on a veneer of tenderness?"

A very soft, cold laugh escaped from her lips.

"She suffers because her surname is Feng Zhi, because she was born in a dark and secluded mansion, because you need her to be 'useful,' and also because she is incompetent. What does it have to do with me?"

"My name is now Jiang Yin. Whether I live or die, whether I am blessed or cursed, I have nothing to do with Qiang Quanfengzhi anymore."

Feng Zhiyuan looked at her silently for a moment, then finally nodded slightly, "I understand."

He said no more, turned away with a flick of his sleeve. His coming and going were abrupt and decisive, leaving one with a sense of unease.

Qiangquan is hundreds of miles away from here. Feng Zhiyuan, as a trusted confidant of the family head, made a special trip to find her, but only delivered a perfunctory message and did not forcibly take her back. This is too strange.

But the unease only lingered for a moment before Feng Zhi Zhaoyin forcefully suppressed it. Whatever schemes the Feng family had inside was none of Jiang Yin's business.

Just as she was about to get up and leave, the three men at the next table exchanged glances and cautiously approached. Although Feng Zhiyuan had lowered her voice, they had heard the name "Feng Zhi".

"Young lady," the man with the missing front tooth rubbed his hands together, a fawning yet respectful smile plastered on his face, and tentatively asked, "May I ask, are you from the 'Feng Zhi' family of Qiangquan, the ones who travel to the underworld?"

"You're being too presumptuous."

Seeing Feng Zhi Zhaoyin turn to leave, another person hurriedly stepped forward, his tone filled with natural faith and fear, and said, "Although we are all rough men, we have heard of the illustrious reputation of the Feng family! They are capable people who can descend into the underworld and consult ghosts and gods! No matter what kind of strange things happen, they are nothing to you!"

Their fearful yet eager-to-cling demeanor suddenly reminded her of the strange things they had discussed at the railway construction site, and a thought struck her. "What?"

Seeing that she was interested in asking, the three of them immediately began to tell their stories eagerly, one after another.

According to them, the railway construction site was located in a mountain valley thirty miles away. About two months ago, when the workers were digging a hillside, they unearthed several small, tangled skeletons, which appeared to be those of children, mixed with some tattered red cloth strips. The foreign supervisor at the time did not believe in superstitions and simply ordered the skeletons to be thrown into a distant ravine before urging them to continue construction.

Strange things started after that.

First, at night, faint sounds of children crying and laughing could be heard, but when the sound was heard, there was nothing there. Then, accidents began to happen frequently at the construction site. People would inexplicably fall from the scaffolding and break their legs, or perfectly built stone walls would collapse in the middle of the night, and even the cooking pot would overturn for no reason.

"The weirdest thing happened a few days ago," the short, stocky man said in a low voice. "We were on night shift guarding the building materials, and we clearly saw a little kid wearing a red bib and barefoot playing hopscotch on the roadbed before the sleepers were laid! It...it even turned around and smiled at us. Its face was as white as paper, but its teeth were black. The next day, a large section of that roadbed collapsed, burying several people, and none of them could be rescued..."

"The foreman hired a foreign monk to chant sutras, but it was useless!" The man with the missing front tooth spat. "Later, when all else failed, they hired a Taoist priest from the city. The priest performed a ritual, came down with a deathly pale face, and said it was a case of 'child spirits gathering resentment,' that the resentment was too deep, and his Taoist skills were insufficient to suppress it. He told us to stop work immediately, or even more people would die!"

"We were really scared, that's why we snuck out!" The three men looked terrified. "But we still feel uneasy, like something is following us."

Upon hearing this, a look of understanding flashed across Feng Zhizhao's eyes.

Such a situation was not uncommon in those turbulent years of war.

“It is a great taboo to dig up the bones and then discard them carelessly,” Feng Zhizhao said. “Children are pure in nature, and if they are disturbed after death, their resentment will often become more stubborn and difficult to dispel. What the Taoist priest said is right, it is indeed ‘the resentment of a child’s spirit.’”

"If you really want to resolve this, find those discarded bones. Find a sunny, dry, and clean place to bury them properly, and don't let them be disturbed again. When burying them, prepare some cakes and toys that children like as offerings, and sincerely pray that they may rest in peace."

Seeing that the three looked confused and troubled, she spoke in a slightly somber tone, revealing the cruel truth of this chaotic world:

Why do you think that things involving spirits and ghosts are becoming more and more frequent in this world?

Her gaze swept across the desolate field ridges and abandoned village houses in the distance.

"War, famine, plague... countless people died, and their resentment could not be dispelled, so it festered in the mountains, rivers, grass and trees. Human life was as worthless as grass, and many died violently. Their resentment and fear were the breeding ground for these things. In addition, with the collapse of rites and music, people were in a state of panic. Their own fear and confusion made them more susceptible to external evils."

She said all she had to say, without going into further esoteric explanations, only adding in her final words, "Do as I say, and perhaps this matter can be resolved. If you are unwilling to even offer this most basic reassurance, then you should leave this place as soon as possible, the farther the better."

Having said that, she turned and left without another word, her figure quickly disappearing at the end of the rugged mountain road, leaving the three men looking at each other thoughtfully.

Several more months passed. When Feng Zhi Zhaoyin arrived in southern Hunan, she heard a strange story. Last year, a great famine struck the area, and starving people rioted, storming government granaries and foreign firms. The uprising was suppressed, resulting in heavy casualties. Soon after, strange things began to happen—every night, in the villages along the Xiang River, one could hear the heavy, uniform footsteps of an army marching.

Those with a greater sense of courage witnessed rows of soldiers clad in tattered black armor, their faces blurred, silently marching along the misty riverbank. They went from house to house collecting grain, and within three to five days, someone from any household who could not pay would inexplicably die, their body shriveled and emaciated, a truly gruesome sight.

She lingered in the fear-filled riverside villages for half a month before finally discovering that starving people had accidentally dug an underground granary on the banks of the Xiang River, disturbing the ghostly soldiers guarding the Corpse Lord and sleeping underground.

These ghostly soldiers are quite different from ordinary wandering spirits; they are more like a special kind of "earthbound spirits." Because of their specific missions and obsessions, and nourished by the yin energy of the earth, their very existence is a distorted and stubborn manifestation of rules that are difficult to resolve with common sense.

With her keen insight into the nature of spirits, Feng Zhizhao immediately saw through it all: these ghostly soldiers weren't after food at all, but clearly wanted the "three souls" of the living.

A person has three souls: the "Tai Guang" (胎光) governs the foundation of life, the "Shuang Ling" (爽灵) governs intelligence and ingenuity, and the "You Jing" (幽精) governs the seven emotions and six desires. Only when these three are united can a person be considered complete. Among them, the most precious is the "Tai Guang," which carries the most primal spiritual energy of life. This is precisely what the Yin soldiers seek.

Having figured out the whole story, Feng Zhizhaoyin went deep into the underground cellar and found the source of all the trouble—the corpse of the Marquis. She burned it to ashes, and the obsession of the Yin soldiers dissipated.

However, while cleaning up the remains of the Corpse Lord, she discovered a tattered ancient book, made of black leather, hidden beneath. The characters on it were neither seal script nor clerical script, yet their meaning naturally emerged from within her.

A cursory glance was enough to send a shiver down her spine—it contained nothing but horrifying and unspeakable secrets and forbidden techniques. In particular, a fragment titled "The Compendium of Death" brazenly described how to find, bind, and even command those ancient beings known as "Death Gods" who lingered on the edge of life and death!

This is outrageous! Ordinary people would be filled with awe and reverence when they encounter beings who control life and death, and would either pray or give way. How could anyone be so arrogant as to try to bind and control them? This book, on the other hand, even dares to attempt to bind the underworld, forcibly alter the Book of Fate, and drive the God of Death to its own ends. This is truly treasonous.

However, despite finding it absurd and highly unbelievable, Feng Zhizhaoyin carefully put it away, intending to read it carefully in the future to see how much truth and falsehood was hidden in this heretical path.

After resolving the matter of the ghost soldiers, Feng Zhi Zhaoyin traveled north and, upon arriving in the capital region, heard a strange story circulating among the people.

A prestigious, long-established pawnshop in Beijing recently acquired a blood-red cheongsam of exceptional quality. The cheongsam was crafted from fine materials, with exquisite embroidery, but its color was eerily red, as if it had been soaked in blood. That very night, the clerk on duty faintly heard a woman's soft voice singing Kunqu opera coming from the storeroom. The voice was melodious, yet carried a piercing melancholy. Mustering his courage, the clerk went to investigate and was horrified to see the cheongsam standing upright in the air, its empty sleeves swaying gracefully like the flowing sleeves of a theatrical performance. Bathed in the cold moonlight, it appeared as if an invisible woman was performing a heartfelt act!

Knowing he had acquired a "cursed object," the pawnshop owner hurriedly invited monks and Taoist priests to perform rituals, but to no avail. The cheongsam appeared every night, softly singing, causing panic among the pawnshop staff. Two employees who had personally handled the cheongsam fell ill and became emaciated, as if all their energy had been drained away.

Upon hearing this, Feng Zhizhaoyin became suspicious. She secretly investigated, combining rumors from the streets with meticulous examination of the cheongsam's style and embroidery, gradually piecing together the truth—the cheongsam belonged to a favored princess of the previous dynasty. At the dynasty's collapse, she was given poisoned wine. Before her death, she was wearing this very cheongsam. The resentment of a destroyed country, the boundless attachment to life, and the extreme unwillingness to perish—all these intense emotions permeated the garment at that moment. Over the years, the resentment lingered, causing the inanimate object to develop a spirit, transforming into an evil spirit that repeated its silent lament at the end of its life every night.

After investigating the cause, Feng Zhizhao did not rush to suppress it like ordinary monks and Taoists. She knew that such supernatural phenomena, born from extreme emotions, would only backfire if forcibly dispelled.

She went to the pawnshop and asked to be allowed to enter the storeroom alone. The tightly closed doors and windows blocked out all light, leaving only the blood-red cheongsam gleaming ominously in the dim light. She stood quietly before the garment, and using the unique spiritual technique of the Feng family, she forced a drop of crimson blood from her fingertip, placing it atop the cheongsam, and whispered:

"I am aware of your grievances and your injustices."

“But this is not your home, and it is not your wish to entangle these innocent people.”

Her voice was soft, yet it possessed a strange penetrating power, as if she were conversing with an unseen soul. The restless resentment gradually subsided in her whispers. Afterward, she asked the shopkeeper for a clean wooden box, carefully folded the cheongsam herself, and placed it inside.

"Find a quiet mountain place, bury it deep, and let it return to dust. Once the obsession is gone, it will no longer bother people."

Strangely enough, after the cheongsam was placed in the wooden box, the lingering chill in the pawnshop quietly dissipated, and the Kunqu opera music that played at midnight never sounded again. A few days later, the two sick shop assistants gradually recovered. The shopkeeper, profusely grateful, insisted on gifting her a rather valuable treasure.

Feng Zhi Zhaoyin had little attachment to money and precious objects. In these chaotic times of war, who wasn't filled with sorrow?

Having traveled alone for many years, her state of mind has undergone several transformations. From initially leaving home filled with resentment and viewing everyone with suspicion, to later feeling disheartened and believing she had seen through the coldness of human nature, and now, strangely, a sense of peace has arisen within her. She has traveled to too many places, witnessed too much helplessness, and gradually understood that she is far from the only one struggling to live in this world. There are many bad people in this world, but there is no shortage of good people either. In chaotic times, the masses of people each have their own pitiful circumstances.

Since I possess extraordinary abilities, perhaps I should do my part for this turbid world.

However, just when Feng Zhizhao thought she could continue to live freely and wander forever, a piece of bad news suddenly came.

At that time, she had just traveled to Xiangweng Mountain. It was a desolate plateau region, and at the foot of the mountain was a small village called Along Village, which was being plagued by a strange "wilt disease." One after another, the villagers became emaciated and listless, and only after a sacrificial ceremony was held in the ancestral hall would those who participated in the ceremony regain some vitality. The village elders said that this was because "the ancestors were hungry." The harvest was poor, and the offerings were too few, so the ancestors were not full in the underworld and had to return to the mortal world to find food for themselves.

Feng Zhizhaoyin stayed in Along Village for only two days before Feng Zhiyuan appeared.

This time, he handed her a peculiar vessel, about the size of a fist, sealed with some kind of dark metal and glass. The vessel had an ancient shape, and through the translucent glass walls, one could vaguely see some kind of dark red substance inside. The whole thing exuded an ominous aura, a mixture of strange herbs and a faint smell of blood.

"What is this?" Feng Zhizhao did not answer.

Feng Zhiyuan's expression remained unchanged. "The Feng Zhi family's sacred object, the Soul-Guiding Necklace, requires special nurturing to maintain its spiritual efficacy."

"Nurturing?" She suddenly sensed something unusual, and her heart tightened. "Nurturing with what?"

Feng Zhiyuan slowly raised his eyelids. "If Ayin wants to know, she should go back and see the Second Miss."

A few years ago, Feng Zhizhao would have scoffed at this and turned away without hesitation. But now, looking at the eerie "Soul-Guiding Pendant," remembering Ah Xue's frail figure, and reflecting on everything she had witnessed over the years, the peace she had finally achieved was finally stirred. After a moment of silence, she said, "Alright, I'll go back with you."

The Feng family mansion is hidden deep in a valley in the heart of Qiangquan, shrouded in mist all year round. From a distance, it appears as a vast complex of buildings rising in layers along the mountainside, with dark blue stone walls and dark wood structures blending perfectly. The flying eaves and brackets are faintly visible in the mist, exuding a somber and ancient majesty, as if it has been entrenched here for thousands of years.

Stepping through the gate, one encounters several corridors and high steps leading in different directions, with servants everywhere. Upon seeing Feng Zhiyuan and her, they bowed and stepped aside to make way, their demeanor displaying propriety, restraint, and a solemn sense of honor.

Returning to the place she had once desperately tried to escape, Feng Zhizhaoyin was "invited" into a secluded courtyard before she even saw Feng Zhizhaoxue, effectively placed under house arrest.

Of course, this couldn't hold her back.

She wanted to leave, and no one stopped her. She knew the way well and headed towards "Snow Lodge," where Feng Zhizhaoxue lived. The courtyard was located in the southeast corner of the mansion, and it was the quietest place.

The courtyard gate was ajar, and she slipped inside. The plants in the courtyard were meticulously trimmed, and the stone path was spotless, clearly showing that someone took good care of it every day. She walked quickly toward the main house, pushed open the door, and found the interior furnishings as elegant as she remembered. There wasn't a speck of dust on the table, and the brocade quilt on the bed was neatly folded.

But there was no one there.

There were no books casually placed aside, no unfinished embroidery, no cosmetic boxes bearing the marks of use that should be on a dressing table, and not a trace of vitality.

Feng Zhi Zhaoyin could tell at a glance that this place had clearly been uninhabited for a long time.

She turned and went out, stopping a servant who was hurrying along with his head down. "Where is the Second Miss?"

The servant trembled, his head almost buried in his chest, and shook his head repeatedly before hurriedly fleeing.

She asked several more people, and they all said the same thing, as if the words "Second Miss" were some kind of taboo that could not be touched.

Until, by the well where the servants washed clothes in the backyard, she found Ah Xue's former personal maid, the girl named Wan Cui. Wan Cui was struggling to carry a bucket of water, her figure much thinner than she remembered. She turned around when she heard footsteps, and when she saw that it was Feng Zhi Zhao Yin, her eyes suddenly reddened, and tears instantly filled her eyes.

She opened her mouth as if to say something, but could only utter muffled breaths.

Feng Zhi Zhaoyin's heart tightened. She stepped forward and gently pinched the maid Wan Cui's chin with her fingertips, forcing her to open her mouth—her tongue had been cut off at the root!

A chill ran through her instantly. "What happened?!" Her voice was tense, without her even realizing it. "Who did this?"

Wan Cui's tears rolled down even more fiercely. She gestured anxiously, pointing wildly into the depths of the courtyard, and then shook her head desperately.

Feng Zhizhao took a deep breath, suppressing her surging emotions, and grabbed Wan Cui's cold wrist, leading her into the low house next door. She quickly found a small piece of burnt charcoal and stuffed it into Wan Cui's hand, spreading it across the layer of ash on the ground. "Write! Didn't Xue teach you to read? What happened?"

Wan Cui trembled as she painstakingly scraped at the ashes with the broken charcoal stick. The handwriting was crooked and fragmented, but Feng Zhi Zhaoyin could still barely make it out:

Three years ago, they took away the underground palace.

Wan Cui raised her head, pointed to her mouth, and then traced a line down her neck.

[Afraid I'd say something, so...]

No further explanation is needed. Three years ago, Ah Xue was taken to some kind of "underground palace." And Wan Cui had her tongue cut out to silence her.

Feng Zhizhao felt a surge of anger rush to her head. She stood up abruptly and said, "I'm going to find Feng Zhishanyi!"

She stormed off to the study in the main courtyard where Feng Zhishan was. As soon as she reached the corridor, she heard Feng Zhishan's deep voice coming from inside, as if she were talking to someone else.

"...The 'container' must be kept pure and must not be compromised."

Another slightly effeminate, unfamiliar voice responded, "A-Yuan has already shown the Soul-Guiding Talisman to Miss Zhaoyin. Now that she has returned, the plan can proceed. However... Miss Zhaoxue's side probably won't be able to hold out for much longer."

“It’s alright.” Feng Zhishan’s tone remained unchanged. “The vessel is dead, but the body remains intact. As long as the offering is alive, the Yin God will not be angry.”

Beneath the window, Feng Zhizhao felt as if struck by lightning, her blood almost freezing.

These chilling words abruptly shattered a long-sealed door in her memory—years ago, also outside this study, she had inadvertently overheard Feng Zhishan's cold, hard words:

“Qianniang, that girl Zhaoyin should be sent to serve the Yin God after her coming-of-age ceremony. Why are you still bothering to care about her food and drink, and her daily life? In any case... she is a sacrifice to be offered up.”

"This is her fate, and also the destiny of my Fengzhi clan. The entire clan relies on the protection of the Yin God to be able to stand here. Her ability to sacrifice herself to maintain the glory of the family is truly her good fortune."

"You shouldn't resent the fact that you gave birth to twins back then. It was fate. If you have to blame someone, blame them for being born into the wrong family and being reborn into the wrong family..."

Back then, she only half-understood what she heard, and in her fear, she chose to run away, thinking that changing her name and going to the ends of the earth would allow her to escape this terrible fate. But it turns out, from beginning to end, she was ridiculously naive!

This family, this bloodline, from the moment she and Ah Xue were born as twins, had already been priced. They weren't raised as human beings, but rather treated as sacrifices.

For that vague protection, for the so-called family glory, they could push their own flesh and blood into an abyss of no return without hesitation!

Feng Zhizhao could no longer bear it. She suddenly pushed open the study door and demanded, "Where is Ah Xue?"

When Feng Zhishan saw her, only a fleeting look of surprise crossed her eyes before she regained her indifference. "Zhaoxue is much more sensible than you. She has known since childhood that she should share the burden for the family."

After saying that, he stood up and gestured for her to follow.

He led her through numerous courtyards, towards the deepest part of the family compound, the most heavily guarded forbidden area. It was a large underground palace built against the mountain, extending deep into the ground. Stepping inside, a scent mixed with the dampness of a thousand years, the scent of old incense, and some strange herbs rushed towards them, carrying the unique chill of the earth.

The underground palace passage was extremely wide, with a high dome. The stone walls on both sides were covered with ancient sacrificial murals and obscure runes, depicting the Feng Zhi family's generations of "serving the Yin God." The scene was solemn and dignified, yet it also exuded a sinister and eerie atmosphere. Huge stone pillars supported the corridor, and at intervals, an ever-burning lamp flickered with a ghostly blue flame, casting shadows that were sometimes long and sometimes short, like phantoms.

The passageway gradually sloped downwards, the light grew dimmer, and the air became more stagnant and cold. Silent guards, like stone statues, began to appear on both sides. They wore specially made armor, their faces hidden in shadow, but their gazes were tangible, coldly sweeping over Feng Zhizhaoyin, who had come with the family head.

Feng Zhishan walked ahead with a leisurely stride, her voice eerily calm, "You can simply leave like you did three years ago. The Feng family can't hold you back if you're determined to leave."

“But if you leave, all your resistance, every bit of freedom you fight for, and the price you have to pay will fall on Zhaoxue in double measure.”

They turned onto a narrower, more secluded side path, where there were almost no lights, only endless darkness ahead, as if it could devour all light and hope. A chill ran through them; Feng Zhizhao could even hear her own heart pounding faster and faster, and an ominous premonition crept into her heart.

Feng Zhishan stopped in the almost complete darkness and pressed her hand on a spot on the seemingly seamless stone wall.

“Every time you escape, she suffers another layer of torment. You could say that every breath of free air you breathe is bought with her sacrifice.”