Once everyone had left, Qu Yanning asked curiously, “Auntie, what kind of Qingdian is the village holding?”
“It’s a village custom. Every year, we worship the Gods and hold a Qingdian,” Zhuang Meng explained with a smile. “You’re outsiders, so just stay at home when the time comes— don’t go out.”
Qu Yanning nodded blankly.
When Zhuang Meng went to the kitchen to clean up, Qu Yanning whispered, “Why does this Qingdian feel so strange? And Zhou Zhou must attend.”
Xie Qi replied coolly, “Your feeling is right.”
Qu Yanning was startled. “Then won’t Zhou Zhou be in danger?” The villagers were so eager to hold the celebration and insisted Zhou Zhou attend.
It seemed just like in those TV dramas, where someone was offered as a sacrifice to the Gods.
Xie Qi walked toward the door. “He won’t be in danger— yet. Let’s go check out the back.”
Chu Zhou and Zhuang Meng were tidying up in the kitchen. Zhang Ren told them he was going out for a walk, then followed Xie Qi and Qu Yanning.
There was a path through the alleys that led to the back of the village.
They wandered for a while before finding the exit, a narrow alleyway opening onto a dim forested hillside.
From the forest came the sound of cursing— it sounded like the coffin bearers from earlier. The group didn’t step out, just stood in the shadows at the alley’s mouth.
Zhang Ren frowned. “They’ve been at it for quite a while. Why are they still digging? How deep do they plan to go?”
A regular grave for a coffin only needed to be about a meter deep. Judging by how long they’d been digging, this pit must be at least three or four meters.
“What are they digging so deep for?” Qu Yanning whispered.
Xie Qi pressed his lips together, his expression cold. “Masks, nailed coffins, deep burial— they’re not burying the dead. They’re suppressing Heigui.”
“Heigui?” Qu Yanning didn’t understand. “But weren’t those their relatives?”
Xie Qi replied, “Did you see anyone show sadness?”
Qu Yanning froze, realizing that from start to finish, no one at the strange funeral had shown any grief. All the villagers had been cold and resistant.
“Let’s go back.” The men were still cursing and digging. Xie Qi rolled the Fozhu between his fingers. “There’s still another question to figure out.”
Back at the house, Chu Zhou and Zhuang Meng were shelling beans at the door. When they saw the others, Chu Zhou smiled. “Back so soon?”
Xie Qi said they’d just gone for a walk, but his gaze fell on Zhuang Meng. “Is there a temple around the village?”
Zhuang Meng was startled, then lowered her head to keep shelling beans. “Why are you asking about that? The villagers only worship the Gods— why would there be other temples?”
“What about before?” Xie Qi pressed.
Zhuang Meng sighed. “A hundred years ago, there were three temples. But later… they gradually fell into ruin.”
There was no need to ask why they were abandoned.
After asking about the Feimiao’s location, Xie Qi went inside. Qu Yanning and Zhang Ren stayed behind, squatting to help with the beans.
Zhuang Meng sighed worriedly and said to Qu Yanning, “Can you talk to that one? Try to convince him not to wander around these days. After the Qingdian, I’ll send you all and Zhou Zhou out together. You’ve played here long enough— staying too long isn’t good.”
“Mom,” Chu Zhou called softly. Zhuang Meng patted his head. “You’re so grown up, but still act like a child. You come home and don’t even want to go out.”
Chu Zhou said nothing, looking glum.
Qu Yanning felt more and more unsettled. When he finished shelling beans and stood up, he felt a bit dizzy.
Rubbing his temples, he suddenly noticed thick black Qi coiling around Zhuang Meng and Chu Zhou— far thicker and heavier than what he’d seen earlier on the Shen Po and the coffins.
“Aunt Zhuang, you—” Qu Yanning abruptly stopped, blinking in confusion.
Zhuang Meng smiled at him. “What’s wrong?” @All the best stories can be found on Jinjiang Literature City.
Qu Yanning shook his head, puzzled. “Nothing. I just got dizzy from standing too long— thought there was a bug on your head.”
Zhuang Meng shook her head, smiling as she urged them inside to rest.
Qu Yanning rubbed his eyes as he went upstairs. He wasn’t sure if what he’d seen just now was real or just his imagination.
“Finished with the beans?” Xie Qi put down his book.
“Yeah.” Qu Yanning hesitated for a while, but finally couldn’t hold it in and told Xie Qi about the black Qi he’d seen.
“Come here,” Xie Qi beckoned him over.
Qu Yanning stood before him, arms at his sides like a student awaiting inspection.
Xie Qi touched his abdomen, then his eyelids, and chuckled. “First step of observing Qi— you’ve already learned it.”
Qu Yanning looked blank.
Xie Qi lightly patted his head. “Everything you saw was real.”
“But what was it?” Qu Yanning asked.
Xie Qi sat in his chair, his expression calm. “Yin Qi.”
Qu Yanning still didn’t quite understand, looking at him in confusion.
Xie Qi pulled him down to sit, his tone unusually serious. “If I’m not wrong, this village was originally built to suppress Heigui.”
“But now…” He slowly turned the Fozhu. “The village’s feng shui has been broken, the villagers worship Guimian, and this place has already turned from a blessed land into a Judian.”
“What happens when a place becomes a Judian?”
Xie Qi said, “A Judian nurtures the dead.”
Qu Yanning began to realize. “So the villagers here…”
Xie Qi looked at him, his eyes emotionless. “That’s the part you haven’t seen yet.”
Living people dwelling in a Judian, worshipping Heigui as their faith— over the years, fewer and fewer babies were born in the village, and those still alive quietly died off.
“Is it those sores?”
“That’s just Yin Qi manifesting in the body,” Xie Qi said. “The Heigui has already been released. This is just the beginning. The temples that once suppressed evil have been destroyed— no one can save them now.”
@All the best stories can be found on Jinjiang Literature City.
Qu Yanning shivered, goosebumps rising on his arms. “Then what are we doing here? Let’s take Aunt Zhuang and leave now.” As for the villagers, they probably wouldn’t listen anyway— once outside, they could call the police.
Xie Qi shook his head. “The Qingdian is the day after tomorrow. We can’t leave until it’s over.”
Qu Yanning opened his mouth with difficulty. “Then what should we do?”
“We wait,” Xie Qi smiled. Seeing how frightened Qu Yanning was, he couldn’t help but ruffle his hair. “Don’t worry, nothing will happen. Didn’t Aunt Zhuang say we could leave after the Qingdian?”
Qu Yanning still hadn’t recovered from his fright. He took off his jacket and crawled under the covers, curling up into a ball, muttering that superstition really kills.
Xie Qi laughed and lay down beside him. The warmth of his body seeped through, and only then did Qu Yanning’s chilled limbs start to warm up.
The next day, the village was draped everywhere in red silk.
A stage was set up on the open ground at the front, decorated with colorful ribbons. Every villager wore a joyful smile.
Early in the morning, Xie Qi dragged Qu Yanning out of bed. “Let’s go check out the temple outside the village.”
The two of them skirted the stage and crossed the river.
According to Zhuang Meng, there were three temples outside the village.
Two were at the far end, each on a different hillside, and the third was in the woods across from the village entrance. Cross the log bridge and you could see it.
The river in front of the village wasn’t wide, and the water flowed gently. A fallen tree trunk served as a simple wooden bridge.
Xie Qi walked steadily in front, while Qu Yanning nervously clung to his sleeve, wobbling as he crossed.
Once over the bridge, a small hill rose to the right. They climbed up, and after a few steps, they saw a dilapidated pavilion.
Inside was a toppled Luohan Statue, battered and covered with dust and cobwebs.
This must be what Feimiao Zhuang Meng had mentioned.
Qu Yanning looked around but found nothing unusual. “Why did we come here?”
Xie Qi replied, “One temple at the entrance, two at the far end, forming a triangle around the village… This is the Kunyin Suolong Ju.”
“At the very least, this was used to suppress a Ligu that’s over a hundred years old.”
Qu Yanning asked, “Has the Ligu gotten out now?”
“Yeah.” Xie Qi nodded. “Let’s go back.”
Qu Yanning’s heart pounded as he trailed behind Xie Qi. “If the Ligu that was sealed here is so strong, will Zhou Zhou really be safe tomorrow?”
Xie Qi held his wrist as they crossed the bridge. Seeing Qu Yanning’s worried expression, he smiled. “Scared?”
Qu Yanning nodded, embarrassed to admit he was a little afraid.
“Don’t worry.” Xie Qi ruffled his hair. “With Zhuang Meng here, nothing will happen to Chu Zhou. Just watch tomorrow.”
“Aunt Zhuang?” Qu Yanning’s eyes widened in surprise. He suddenly recalled the heavy Yin Qi he’d seen around her—obviously not something normal people had. He clenched his fists. “Does Zhou Zhou know?”
Once they’d crossed back, Xie Qi gently released his wrist. His warm fingers tapped Qu Yanning’s brow, his gaze soft. “The second thing you need to learn—ask less, observe more.”