Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
After Ling Daozi finished speaking, he lay down and turned his back, saying, "It's getting late. My old bones can't take any more fuss. Everyone should go back to sleep."
"We can talk about it when it gets light." Meng Yingying was about to speak when Kong Fusheng quickly interjected, "Senior Meng, it's really getting late, my eyelids are drooping."
"Go back and rest quickly." She said, pulling Meng Yingying outside. Unable to press her further, Meng Yingying returned to her room and took out her notebook. She recorded what she remembered about the story in the book, marking an X after the words "Weng Xian." Below that, she wrote "Dead Man" and "Twins."
When she's thinking, she likes to write down her thoughts; it helps her clarify her ideas. Although Ling Daozi said it was unlikely and the conditions for it to happen would be very difficult, Meng Yingying believed that the most impossible things were the most possible. Why couldn't she remember the plot of the twins? She tried to recall and think about the following plot, but she only had a vague impression in her mind.
The plot might change, and everything is an unknown challenge. Meng Yingying closed the notebook, tilted her head back, and let out a sigh of relief.
Meng Yingying lay in bed, and as she thought about it, she felt a little irritable, so she turned over.
——
Frost covered the trees, and a blanket of white snow fell. Meng Yingying stepped out of the inn, the snowy scene unfolding before her eyes. In reality, she was a southerner who had almost never seen snow; it was astonishing that it snowed in Liuzhou.
"It hasn't snowed in Liuzhou for a long time." Ah Jin walked out holding a hot water bottle, followed by the shopkeeper. Ah Li added, "It last snowed in Liuzhou more than ten years ago."
White dots kept falling from the sky, falling without any apparent cause, yet they continued to land on the houses, rooftops, and ground, accumulating into a white blanket.
"Looks like it's going to snow heavily." After saying this, A-Jin looked at Meng Yingying, a moment of hesitation in her eyes. She walked to her side, and Meng Yingying sensed her movement. She didn't move for a long time. Regarding this world, Meng Yingying always felt that it was just a world in a book, where everything was created by the author's pen. After transmigrating, even a minor supporting character was a flesh-and-blood, talking person.
She's trying to take control, which is so unlike her.
"Little Taoist Priest." Ah Jin's voice was soft and gentle, her breath warm and white. Upon hearing this address, Meng Yingying's eyes suddenly welled up with tears. This was how Ah Jin addressed her when they first met.
"Young Taoist, I'll be waiting for you to come back at the Good Wine Inn." She has always been intelligent, but what she cannot change is her family and her innately soft and passionate heart.
She is too kind and too resilient.
Meng Yingying lowered her head, her nose red from the cold, and buried her face in her fluffy collar. "Ajin, your cooking is the best in the world." Ajin looked at her, her voice choked with emotion. Meng Yingying's gaze met hers, and Ajin opened her arms first. The two embraced in the snow.
Without saying a word, Ajin stroked her back. She had never blamed Miss Meng. She liked Meng Yuan very much and envied everything about her.
"Goodbye, young Taoist."
She said goodbye softly.
Soon after, Meng Yingying boarded the vehicle Shen Qingshan had prepared for them. The vehicle was quite rudimentary: an old man pulling the cart, a trailer, and an ox. At first, Meng Yingying thought there was a mistake, but the old man, with a blade of grass dangling from his mouth and squinting eyes, said, "If you don't like it, then I'm leaving." His voice was surprisingly confident. Meng Yingying leaned against the side, feeling rather displeased. Leaving Liuzhou meant that her transmigration mission was only just beginning.
All dangers lurk in the unpredictable plot that follows.
Someone patted her on the shoulder. Meng Yingying turned her head, her eyes fixed on Kong Fusheng, and followed his gaze. Meng Yingying saw Zhou Xiuqi placing the contents of his package on dried grass, inspecting them one by one. Zhou Xiuqi was always meticulous in his work; in the original book, he also made sure to assess the possibilities before arriving at the next instance and bring the necessary magical artifacts.
After Zhou Xiu finished taking inventory, he looked up and said, "You've all seen the strangeness of Cui Xiang Lou. I can confirm that it is the body of the deceased."
Kong Fusheng asked, "Senior Zhou, why are you so sure?"
Zhou Xiuqi took out a book; on its old blue cover, a single word was written neatly: "Ghost".
Meng Yingying took it and looked at it. Kong Fusheng leaned in and read it aloud: "The dead are trapped in a cursed place and cannot return alive. If they want to get out, they must kill their enemies." Meng Yingying touched the clean cut at the end of the text and felt uneasy because she hadn't finished reading it: "How can you be sure from this?" Kong Fusheng scratched the back of his head, also unable to understand.
Zhou Xiuqi covered his eyes with a veil and said, "When Tan Yuhua died, I guessed that he might have hidden the coffin somewhere. He was sure we wouldn't find it, but he wouldn't let us just go around in circles. So he found Li Youde and took him to Xinghua Village. The neighbors all said that he had gone crazy after Li Zhaodi and Zhao Qiao'er disappeared."
"Why did Li Youde mention Xinghua Village just when we were about to go to Cuixianglou? And why did he bite Hua Liu at just the right time?"
"It's all because he once again lured us to him and leaked information to us. He also knew we could guess that he was the one who lured us. So this was his provocation against us."
"If Xinghua Village is the corpse of the Dead, then it's understandable that he won't die and will continue to seek revenge. Because the yin energy of the Dead is the perfect nourishment for ghosts. After being nourished by the yin energy for a certain period of time, he will be resurrected."
After hearing his reasoning, Meng Yingying pondered whether the strangeness of Xinghua Village was also the work of Tan Yuhua. Tan Yuhua should have died in the first instance, so why did she possess the skill of immortality? And then there was Zhou Xiuqi. Her gaze fell on the book; the handwriting was clearly his. Was it his notes, or perhaps a premonition?
Thinking about this, Meng Yingying even had a terrifying thought: could this all be a setup, designed to trap her here and kill her? Meng Yingying was prone to overthinking when she calmed down, and she quickly dismissed the idea. If that were the case, she might as well just die sooner rather than later. Why go through all this trouble? Meng Yingying was completely clueless.
“It’s the Deathly Abode, which is a cursed place recorded in ancient books. It’s like being in someone else’s territory.” Kong Fusheng said dejectedly, “There’s nothing we can control.”
None of them spoke; he was telling the truth. Meng Yingying also felt a growing unease.
A sudden burst of laughter broke their silence. The old man who was tending the ox in front of them crossed his legs, took out a candied hawthorn from somewhere, and chewed it with a crunchy sound. The bells on his body or the ox jingled.
“The strangeness of this Xinghua Village is far beyond what you think. You should just hide.” He said. Kong Fusheng was unconvinced and brushed the stray hairs off his head, saying, “Grandpa, do you know who they are? Senior Zhou and Senior Meng are both Taoists from Lin’an. Especially Senior Zhou, Senior Zhou’s name is very famous.”
After he exaggerated, Zhou Xiuqi's brows twitched. He suppressed his urge, and the old man smiled disdainfully, saying with contempt, "He's nothing but a coward."
Zhou Xiuqi looked up at the old man, but the old man's gaze did not waver even slightly.
Hearing this tone, Meng Yingying felt a pang of unease; it sounded so familiar.
Kong Fusheng argued incessantly with the old man, but the old man picked at his ear and acted as if Kong Fusheng didn't exist, leisurely humming a song.
The oxcart moved forward, its only feature a tattered cloak. Fortunately, it didn't rain along the way. The cart swayed from side to side, obscuring the view outside. Even Meng Yingying, who doesn't usually get carsick, was jolted so much that she vomited.
No one in the car was in a good mood—except for the old man driving, who hummed a strange tune and cracked the whip the whole way. Several times, Kong Fusheng's backside was practically thrown off his feet by the jolting. He grumbled, "That old man's targeting me!"
Swaying and rocking, Meng Yingying felt dizzy and drifted off to sleep. Suddenly, the carriage stabilized. She wondered if they had arrived. Opening her eyes, she found the carriage empty, not even the old man driving. Anxious, she calmly drew her soft sword from her waist. A chilling wind howled outside.
Shala shala—
A gurgling sound came from the fragile shed. The shed couldn't hold on any longer and made a clear cracking sound. Meng Yingying quickly half-squatted inside the car and leaned against it.
Suddenly, her neck felt very hot. Meng Yingying raised her hand to touch her neck, but her hand felt like it was being burned, so she quickly withdrew it.
She gritted her teeth, raised her other hand, and, as a last resort, swung the soft sword. The sword pierced something, making a hissing sound. But no scream was heard. Meng Yingying turned to the other side, then suddenly stopped. She looked down and saw bloodstains all over the haystack.
Following the trail of blood, she saw a person hiding in the corner. Judging by their build and age, they were shaking their shoulders, seemingly crying. Meng Yingying didn't move forward; instead, she stood still, her heart pounding. At times like this, it was usually ghosts from horror movies who came out. If she went over, she would definitely see a bloody face. It was better not to go over and just stay where she was.
Suddenly he made a few broken sounds, and Meng Yingying listened carefully.
"Brother... Brother..." Meng Yingying cried out weakly, as if pleading for help, and forced herself to move forward.
But the next second, she witnessed a horrifying scene: the child's arms twisted backward with an unparalleled flexibility, his hands intertwined in a figure eight, and he fell backward. Blood stained the hay, revealing a bloodied face, its mouth open, repeating mournful cries to her.
Meng Yingying was terrified. She desperately tried to jump outwards, but felt a force pull her back and forcefully press her onto the grass. Her head throbbed, and her eyes suddenly opened. Zhou Xiuqi's hair was disheveled, and her white veil was hanging loosely on her face, making her look extremely disheveled.
Zhou Xiuqi held down her limbs, while Xiao Zheyu cut her fingers; both of them looked disheveled.
Xiao Zheyu's face was somewhat pale. Meng Yingying looked around blankly and asked, "What's wrong with me?"
Xiao Zheyu relaxed and leaned back. Zhou Xiuqi let go of her hand and said with a hint of sarcasm, "I never realized before that you were as strong as an ox."
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