The forest was filled with clusters of Chinese scholar trees, but the "great locust tree" Old Kui mentioned wasn't hard to find.
There were over a dozen particularly massive trees that stood out. These ancient locust trees had weathered centuries of storms, growing into massive natural umbrellas, at least two or three times thicker than the others—impossible to miss.
Starting from the edge of the forest, we counted carefully. Soon, we found the seventh large locust tree.
Now Gu Meidi and I stood beneath its towering canopy, craning our necks to take it all in.
All I could think was: This tree is enormous.
Its trunk would take five or six grown men linking arms to encircle it, and it rose at least fifty meters tall. Its thick branches stretched outward like a colossal parasol. Tangled aerial roots dangled from the trunk—thick as tree trunks themselves. The ground was a network of gnarled roots coiling like serpents. Some roots slithered dozens of meters underground before bursting back above the soil, forming a chaotic web like a massive spider's nest.
Gu Meidi rested her chin in her hand thoughtfully. "Old Kui really knew how to pick a spot. Whatever he buried here… I wonder if it's something cursed."
"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.
She pointed to the towering tree in front of us. "This tree faces west—symbolically, the direction of the dead. In geomancy, west is associated with the underworld. Plus, trees like this, shaped like umbrellas, are believed to block sunlight and concentrate yin energy. There's even a feng shui term for it: 'The Umbrella of Shadows.' This place is heavy with yin. It's seriously unlucky."
"You know feng shui?" I asked, surprised. She spoke so clearly, so confidently—it didn't sound made up.
"I know a bit." Gu Meidi was modest, but I'd already seen her spiritual abilities firsthand. She wasn't just some charlatan.
I circled the massive tree, then pulled a small shovel from my pack and got to work. Gu Meidi stood quietly behind me, arms folded, watching me dig.
Half an hour later, I had carved out a pit nearly a meter wide. Wiping the sweat from my brow, I muttered, "Damn, Old Kui really buried this deep."
A few more shovels in, I suddenly struck something hard—metal. My heart leapt, and I dug faster.
Soon, a rusted metal chest emerged. It was about thirty centimeters long, twenty tall, with a rounded top. Its black paint had flaked off in places, revealing the bronze underneath. I heaved the box out and sat beside it, catching my breath. I stared at it in a daze.
"What did Old Kui leave me in here?" I thought. Remembering Gu Meidi's earlier words—"Umbrella of Shadows"—I couldn't help but feel like I was holding Pandora's box. Who knew what kind of horror might leap out?
Gu Meidi finally broke the silence. "Hey! Don't just sit there hugging it. Open it already!"
There was a latch on the front. I gave it a light tug, and the curved lid popped open. A faint scent of pine wafted out.
Inside were just two things: a tattered, yellowing book and a strange weapon about twenty centimeters long. I blinked. This was… not what I'd expected.
I'd imagined treasure—gold, antiques, something valuable. Instead, I got junk.
I picked up the book. Its cover was made of what looked like old sheepskin. The edges were frayed and moldy. Sewn into the binding was a red thread, and strung along it were four tiny ancient copper coins. On the cover were three flowing black characters: "Manual of Cursed Weapons."
Manual of… what?
What a bizarre name.
Curiosity got the better of me. I opened the book and instantly, I was hooked. This wasn't just some journal—it was a manual on esoteric arts. Pages upon pages of rituals, spells, and secret techniques. Just skimming a few pages, I knew this was something extraordinary.
I carefully tucked the book into my inner pocket.
Next, I picked up the weapon. It resembled an ancient Chinese spear—not a gun, but a cold weapon meant for close combat. The shaft gleamed silver, and the grip was shaped like a pair of wings. It radiated strength and power.
I gave it a few practice swings. Whoosh! It sliced through the air with shocking force.
Then, something clicked. The spear suddenly extended from twenty centimeters to over half a meter. Silver light flashed—despite having been buried underground for who knows how long, it shone like new.
Carved into the shaft in archaic script were two characters: "Heaven's Bane."
I grinned. What a name! So this was the weapon's name—Heaven's Bane. An epic name for a powerful weapon.
Even if it wasn't worth much money, these two items clearly weren't ordinary.
I turned to Gu Meidi, who was frowning.
"What are you thinking?" I asked.
"I'm wondering why Old Kui would give you these." She paused. "Based on what he left behind, it's obvious—Old Kui wasn't just a regular guy. He was someone with real spiritual power."
"He used to work on the Yellow River," I said. "Dealing with all kinds of strange things in the water. Makes sense he had some abilities."
I suddenly realized—these might've been his personal treasures: a sacred weapon and a manual for practicing spiritual techniques.
But one thing I still didn't understand—why leave them to me?
He'd even said it was my destiny. Was he seriously trying to make me his successor? A Yellow River corpse-handler?
I shared my theory with Gu Meidi.
She laughed. "That wouldn't be so bad, would it? Roaming the river your whole life, free as the wind, respected by everyone. Heck, even your funeral would be legendary."
"No way!" I shook my head furiously. "I studied hard just to get out of this village. I don't want to spend my life dealing with spirits and curses."
"Let's go," she said. "It's getting late. We'll talk more back home."
"Alright." I packed the items carefully, then reburied the empty chest, filling in the dirt.
"Oh, one more thing," I said. "Can you not tell Grandpa about any of this?"
I had a hunch there was some bad blood between Grandpa and Old Kui. If he found out I had accepted something from the man—or worse, inherited his 'destiny'—he'd be furious.
"Sure," Gu Meidi said. "But only if you promise me something too."
"What?"
She leaned close and whispered, "Don't tell anyone I know spiritual arts. I don't want that kind of attention."
"Deal."
"Deal."
"If Grandpa asks where we went, what should I say?"
"Tell him we went on a date," she said, rolling her eyes. "Let you get a little win for once."
We walked for about fifteen minutes when Gu Meidi suddenly stopped.
"Wait."
"What is it?" I asked.
She looked around. "Don't you think something's off? We've been walking a while, but we're still in the forest."
Now that she mentioned it, I realized—she was right. Despite walking for quite a while, we were still surrounded by the same locust trees. No end in sight.
"Are we… stuck in a spirit trap?" I asked uneasily.
In old folklore, there's a phenomenon called "ghost walling"—you get stuck in a space and can't find your way out, walking in circles no matter what. It's said to be caused by spirits building invisible barriers.
This… felt exactly like that.
Gu Meidi's face grew serious. Then she raised her voice, addressing the empty forest: "You could've taken the path to heaven, but instead you chose the road to hell. Ruolan… I showed you mercy once. And now you've come back to haunt us?"
The mention of that name sent a chill down my spine. So the red-dressed ghost was back.
No wonder we couldn't get out. She must've set this up.
Gu Meidi turned to me. "This isn't ghost walling. It's an illusion spell—Ruolan's trap."
A sharp, ghostly voice echoed from above: "I told you—you'll all die! Every last one of you!"
Her words pierced my ears like needles.
Gu Meidi stood firm, unshaken. "Very well," she said coldly. "Then show us what you've got."
The moment she spoke, a fierce wind howled through the locust forest. Leaves whipped into a frenzy, the sky darkened, and dust swirled around us.
Something unholy was coming.
"Ugh… ugh…"
Strange groans echoed through the forest.
What happened next made my skin crawl. One after another, corpses began clawing their way up from the ground—like mushrooms sprouting after rain. Within seconds, they filled the grove, dozens, then hundreds, rising in a horrific swarm, and still more kept coming.
This place used to be a mass grave. Countless bodies were buried here, and somehow, that red-dressed ghost woman had summoned every last one of them. The locust grove was already a place of dark yin energy, and after years of soaking it in, these corpses had turned into full-blown jiangshi—Chinese zombies.
The soil churned and rolled as undead clawed their way out, howling like beasts. Although it was still daylight outside, inside the grove it felt like hell itself.
They came in all forms: some missing half their skulls, exposing bone; others limping with broken limbs, swaying grotesquely as they walked; some were split open at the belly, intestines slipping out with each step, leaving trails of slime and rot.
Mouths agape, they tilted their heads skyward and exhaled clouds of thick, greenish-black corpse gas. The stench filled the air. I can't fully describe the horror of that moment—hundreds of zombies vomiting poison mist into the sky—it was grotesque, overwhelming.
I won't lie. I was terrified beyond reason. Out of my seven souls, six were already gone, and the last one was probably just floating inside my body, waiting to escape.
Gu Meidi, on the other hand, frowned ever so slightly. Surrounded by this tidal wave of the undead, she showed not a trace of fear or panic. Her calmness, her poise—it put me to shame.
"Dark spirits rise, but the Dragon God descends. Let the heavens tremble, and the underworld break!"
She chanted rapidly, and in a flash of gold light, the Dragon God Bow appeared in her left hand.
"Strike!"
She pulled the string, and a glowing arrow inscribed with mystic runes shot through the air. It pierced through a zombie's skull, kept going, and passed through four more, before vanishing into the air. A soft pop echoed, and the five zombies turned to dust—no bones, no ashes, just gone.
I gawked in awe. She was a beast—a true warrior goddess!
Gu Meidi didn't pause. She turned on the spot, pulled the bow again, and loosed another arrow.
It flew so close to my face I could feel the energy wave like a giant invisible hand shoving me aside.
When I turned around, I saw three more zombies vanishing in bursts of dark smoke, as if they'd never existed.
I was still staring when she suddenly shouted, "Tuoba Gu, behind you!"
Before I could even turn, I heard the rush of air. Luckily, I'd trained in Shaolin martial arts for two years and my reflexes weren't bad. I pushed off the ground with my toes and flipped out of the way just in time. Twisting mid-air, I lashed out with a move from the Shaolin long fist style and landed a punch square on the zombie's face.
Crack!
Its skull caved in. Bone fragments drove inward into its mouth, and thick, black corpse blood poured down its face. That's when I noticed—its mouth held four dagger-like fangs, two of which shattered under my punch.
Before I could retract my fist, another zombie leapt at me from the side and tackled me to the ground.
It was an old woman. Her skin was shriveled like dried leather, face twisted and corpse-pale. Her mouth gaped wide, exposing two long, sharp fangs gleaming in the light. She gripped my throat with withered, root-like fingers, nails curled and black, and the stench of rot was so strong I nearly passed out.
Don't let her looks fool you—zombie strength is terrifying. I could barely move, my vision went blurry, and I couldn't breathe.
"RAAAGH!" she roared, mouth wide as she lunged to bite my neck. Her fangs gleamed like knives, ready to rip through my flesh.
I closed my eyes in despair. This is it. I'm done for.
But just then, a flash of golden light burst before my eyes.
My first thought was: Gu Meidi! Another arrow!
But no—it wasn't the Dragon God's arrow. The light had come from inside my jacket… from the Manual of Evil Weapons.
The zombie hag shrieked and was blasted back over three meters by that beam of light.
Stunned, I looked down. The old, worn-out cover of the Manual of Evil Weapons was glowing faintly with strange runes. The four ancient coins on the red string hummed in response.
Holy crap.
In that moment, I wanted to hug Old Kui and never let go. That crazy old guy actually left me something useful!
But on second thought—nope. I take it back. I'm only in this mess because of Old Kui.
Still clutching the manual tightly to my chest, I felt like I was wrapped in armor. My courage roared back.
The zombie hag struggled to get up. I whipped out the Evil Sky Spear, gave it a sharp flick, and it extended with a metallic snap. I spun it into a flourish, stepped forward, and rammed it straight into her throat—pinning her to the ground.
"Urgh…" Her mouth hung open, corpse gas spilling out. She reached up to claw at me, but her hand dropped lifelessly after just one twitch.
I yanked the spear out. Her throat left a gaping hole, and black blood gushed out in jets, splattering across my clothes.
I stared down at her broken form. Sorry, granny.
Standing up, I turned and saw Gu Meidi surrounded. Dozens—no, hundreds—of zombies encircled her. The air was thick with toxic corpse fumes.
But she was still fighting. Her Dragon God Bow was a blur, arrows flying nonstop. With every shot, a few more zombies vanished into dust. None could get close.
Hair flowing, bow glowing, she looked like a goddess of war—beautiful and terrifying.
I roared and charged, spear in hand.
Two zombies leapt at me from both sides.
I spun on the spot, like a whirlwind, slipping behind the one on the left. A sharp hand strike cracked its brittle spine. The zombie, reduced to a skeleton over time, crumbled instantly. Its head rolled, and I stomped it to mush.
Then I raised the Evil Sky Spear. It flashed through the air, piercing a zombie from back to front and nailing it to the dirt.
I stomped on its skull, yanked the spear out, and a burst of corpse gas erupted. I stabbed again—this time through the head. The zombie went limp.
Spitting to the side, I ran to Gu Meidi's aid.
The undead kept coming—wave after wave, relentless.
I reached back, grabbed one by the skull, and yanked it backward. Then I rammed the spear in at a 45-degree angle through the neck. It came out through the mouth, dragging a bloody tongue with it.
One strike, one kill. That move worked wonders. I carved a path through the horde and finally reached her side.
"Not bad, Tuoba Gu," Gu Meidi said, firing an arrow that vaporized a zombie inches from her face.
I panted, looking around. "There are too many. We've taken down maybe a hundred, but there's hundreds more still coming!"
What I said was true—this grove had once buried thousands. That meant thousands of zombies, and we'd barely made a dent.
"Don't panic," Gu Meidi replied calmly. "They're all under Ruolan's control. If we take her out, the rest will fall."
I widened my eyes, scanning the horde. All I saw were zombies and more zombies—no sign of Ruolan.
"Ghost Eye, reveal evil!"
Gu Meidi formed a seal with her fingers and pressed it to her forehead.
A red glow flared. A strange mark appeared—shaped like a single, open eye.
So this was the legendary Ghost Eye…
It slowly rotated, glowing with crimson light. She looked around and smirked. "No dark spirit can hide from the Ghost Eye."
Raising her bow, she loosed an arrow toward the locust tree at two o'clock.
A golden beam flashed—then came a piercing scream.
Ruolan appeared, wearing a crimson qipao, pinned to the tree by the arrow. She swayed like a ragdoll in the wind.
Her eyes locked onto us, filled with venom and sorrow. Then, crimson tears streamed down her cheeks.
Cracks spread across her skin like shattered glass. In the blink of an eye, her whole body splintered.
She let out a final, haunting wail—and exploded into a cloud of ash.
Gu Meidi sighed and dismissed the bow.
The thick fog lifted, and light returned to the grove.
The zombie roars ceased. All around us, they retreated underground, vanishing one by one.
Sunlight pierced through the branches, and those too slow to escape turned to dust in the light.
In moments, the grove was silent again—like nothing had ever happened.
By the time we returned to Hezi Village, the sky was glowing red with sunset—the clouds stretched like silk ribbons across the horizon.
Grandpa asked where we had been all day. Gu Meidi and I exchanged a knowing smile but said nothing. From the look in our eyes, he seemed to get the wrong idea and chuckled softly, not pressing the question. He probably thought Meidi and I had snuck off for a secret date. Grandpa had always liked Gu Meidi. In his heart, she was already his chosen granddaughter-in-law, and nothing would make him happier than to see us together.
"You'll be heading back to Zhengzhou tomorrow," he said. "So today I went out and caught a big fish—let me show you my cooking skills!" He tied on an apron and disappeared into the kitchen.
Meidi and I went upstairs to shower and change into clean clothes. That's when I noticed how much dirt was still clinging to my skin from the woods. Thinking back on Grandpa's odd smile, I suddenly realized—he probably thought Meidi and I had… fooled around outdoors. Damn.
By the time we came downstairs, dinner was already laid out—an impressive feast of river fish. Living by the Yellow River meant people here knew how to handle fish, and every household had its own secret recipes. On the table were three steaming dishes:
The first was a brightly colored plate of spicy pickled fish, its scarlet chilies and vivid green scallions creating a mouthwatering contrast.
The second was a rich soup made from fish heads, milky white and fragrant, with bits of chopped green onions floating on the surface.
The third was a bowl of deep-fried fish bones, golden and crisp, each bite bursting with flavor and crunch.
Gu Meidi's mouth watered as she raised her glass. "Grandpa, thank you for all your kindness these past few days. Cheers!"
Grandpa chuckled. "No need for all that formality. If you like it here, come back often. We're all family now, no need to be shy!"
"Grandpa!" I blushed. "You're getting ahead of yourself. Nothing's official yet."
"Ah, you silly boy!" He winked. "A real man shouldn't be so bashful. Treat her right and make things official sooner rather than later!"
After dinner, we chatted for a while, then headed off to bed early—our train was leaving in the morning.
I climbed into bed and pulled out the old book I had stashed under my pillow: The Codex of Cursed Weapons. After everything that happened in the locust grove earlier, I was more intrigued than ever.
Under the dim light of the desk lamp, I opened the book and began to read. Instantly, it was like stepping into a world of dark wonders. This wasn't just some bizarre old tome—it was practically a manual for battling the supernatural. The sections were meticulously organized, detailing various occult techniques and methods for warding off evil spirits. Some parts were hard to follow, and many of the spells were too complex to memorize right away, but I was fascinated.
I remembered the corpse-sealing talisman my grandfather used to draw, and eagerly flipped through the book to see what other powerful charms were inside. To my surprise, the Codex only contained two sections: Geomancy and Daoist Rituals. The rest had been torn out—literally missing. The lower half of the book was gone.
I was holding only the first volume of a larger work. Where was the rest?
I figured it had been lost over time. Ancient texts like this are often incomplete. Still, even with only the upper half, my curiosity wasn't dulled. I started with the section on Feng Shui and was quickly hooked by its detailed insights and theories. I read deep into the night, not realizing how much time had passed until my eyelids grew heavy and I finally set the book aside.
That night, I dreamed I had become a great Feng Shui master, charting mountains, reading the stars, and commanding spirits with a flick of my hand.
The next morning, after a quick bowl of noodles, we said our goodbyes to Grandpa. A local farmer drove us to the county in his beat-up tractor. Grandpa walked us to the edge of the village and stayed there, watching as the tractor clattered away down the road. Even when I looked back, his frail figure was still standing at the entrance, unmoving.
A lump rose in my throat. I remembered how, years ago, when I left for college, Grandpa had stood in that same spot—watching me disappear into the distance, unwilling to turn away.
A familiar melody drifted through my head:
🎵 "Go back home to visit… even if it's just to wash the dishes…" 🎵
"What are you thinking about?" Gu Meidi nudged me with her elbow.
"Nothing…" I quickly blinked away the tears welling in my eyes.
"Here." She handed me a tissue.
"What for?"
"Come on, it's okay to cry. No need to hold it in."
"I'm a man. We don't cry that easily!" I turned away, embarrassed. I didn't want her to see me like that.
Back in Zhengzhou, the excavation was already well underway. Despite the heat, workers bustled across the site, salvaging relics from the ancient tomb. Thanks to their tireless effort, most of the burial items had already been retrieved, and the layout of the entire tomb complex was becoming clear. It was a spectacular sight.
Professor Ye, visibly excited, told us, "This tomb dates back to the Spring and Autumn period. It's a royal burial site. The artifacts we've found could shake up the entire field of archaeology!"
"So," he added with a grin, "how was your little vacation?"
Meidi and I exchanged glances. Of course, we weren't about to tell him about the creepy things we'd seen. "It was nice," I said vaguely.
"The countryside was refreshing," Meidi added. "And Tuoba Gu's grandfather was incredibly hospitable. It was a lovely stay."
Professor Ye chuckled. "Then go back whenever you can."
The following days were still packed with work. The excavation team began focusing on mapping the burial structures, documenting the layout of the tomb and surrounding grounds. Meanwhile, the provincial heritage bureau had started planning how to preserve and display the site.
Meidi and I spent most of our time inside the operations tent, carefully cataloging the burial items. It was no easy task. Every day brought a new batch of fragile artifacts, and we had to treat each one like it was a national treasure. Even brushing off the dirt from a single item could take hours.
One afternoon, Meidi approached me with a clipboard. "Hey, Tuoba Gu, this inventory lists a Cold Jade Toad that was found in the tomb. But I can't find it anywhere. Have you seen it?"
I took the list and double-checked. Sure enough, it noted a jade toad about the size of a ping-pong ball, found inside the ancient corpse's mouth. A photo was attached: the toad was carved from pure white translucent jade, lifelike and exquisite—clearly a priceless artifact. Strangely, it was surrounded by a misty white aura, like a breath of frost caught in motion.
I said, "It must've had some important purpose if they buried it in the corpse's mouth. Definitely no ordinary item."
"I know!" Meidi frowned. "That's why I'm worried. I've searched everywhere, but I can't find it. You don't think someone lost it during the move, do you?"
"Better look again carefully. If it's still missing, we'll have to report it. That's no small thing."
She kept searching for a while longer but still found nothing. Eventually, she had to call Professor Ye and tell him.
When she hung up, I asked what he said. She shrugged. "Not much. Just told us to focus on our current work and not let one missing item hold up progress."
After ten more days on site, the excavation team began wrapping up.
Professor Ye gathered us. "You two have worked hard. I was going to give you a break—but I just got invited to a major cultural relics exhibition in Xi'an. I want you both to come along. It'll be a great learning experience."
A national-level antiques expo? The chance to see rare, one-of-a-kind treasures up close? We immediately agreed.
Two days later, we arrived in Xi'an.
This was Professor Ye's hometown—once known as Chang'an, the ancient capital of several dynasties and one of the world's greatest historic cities.
And of course, no trip to Xi'an would be complete without tasting its most famous local dish: lamb stew with flatbread, known as Yang Rou Pao Mo. It was also Professor Ye's favorite. No matter how busy he was, whenever he returned home, this was always his first stop.
The dish dates back centuries, once known simply as "lamb broth." Even the Song Dynasty poet Su Shi wrote about it:
"Delicacies from Long, only lamb broth from Qin."
Cooking it requires great precision. First, high-quality lamb (or beef) is boiled with aromatics like scallions, ginger, peppercorns, anise, and cinnamon. The flatbread—made with unleavened dough—is torn by hand into bean-sized pieces and added to the soup. Topped with green onions, black fungus, and sometimes cilantro, it's served steaming hot. Add spicy chili sauce or pickled garlic, and you have an unforgettable bowl of comfort.
After finishing a bowl of lamb and flatbread stew—an aromatic traditional dish from northern China made of shredded flatbread soaked in rich lamb broth—the officials from the local Cultural Relics Bureau finally arrived to meet us. When they saw us sitting casually at a street-side food stall, their faces lit up with surprise.
"Professor Ye," one of them said, "We've prepared a welcome banquet for you at a top hotel in the city! How could you settle for just lamb stew on the roadside?"
Professor Ye waved his hand. "Don't bother with all that formality. I love this dish—give me this over some overpriced banquet food any day. We've already eaten, so don't worry about dinner. Just take us back to the hotel to rest."
The official, clearly embarrassed but left with no choice, drove us straight to the hotel.
I've always admired Professor Ye—not just for his depth of knowledge and his willingness to guide younger researchers, but also for his integrity and simplicity. Unlike many in our field who enjoy flaunting their titles, he was modest, practical, and lived a humble life. His character was something I deeply respected and aspired to.
The Cultural Relics Bureau had arranged a luxury suite for Professor Ye at one of Xi'an's finest hotels. Since they hadn't known he'd bring assistants, they quickly arranged a standard twin room for me and Gu Meidi.
Gu Meidi looked at me with an expression of pure exasperation. "Wait… you and I are sharing a room?"
"What's the problem?" I said. "It's not like we've never bunked together before. You think I'll eat you or something?"
"You're asking for a beating!" she snapped, her delicate fists raining down on my head like a flurry of pillows, leaving me with a scalp full of imaginary bruises.
Professor Ye chuckled and told us to get some rest, then disappeared into his suite.
I gave Meidi a sly wink. "He told us to rest early—don't you think that's code for…"
"Out!" she yelled, raising her fist. "Your brain is full of garbage! Say one more word and I swear I'll beat you senseless!"
I quickly shielded my head with both hands. Honestly, I liked it when she got mock-angry—it made her look like a porcelain doll come to life. Adorable. But then I also remembered how she once faced off with that blood-drenched ghost in the woods… Not so adorable.
After spending a few days working closely with her, I was no longer shy. I enjoyed teasing her now and then—harmless fun.
When we got into the room, she suddenly gasped.
"What now?" I asked.
She pointed to the bathroom. "Why is the shower glass see-through?"
"Oh, come on," I shrugged. "It's not completely clear, it's frosted. It's modern design. You can't really see anything except shadows from the outside."
She huffed and set down her luggage. "Listen, when I shower later, you better shut those filthy eyes. If I catch you peeking, I'll gouge them out!"
I didn't even get a word in before she added, "Tuoba Gu, I didn't realize you were this… wicked!"
"I…" I was speechless. Who's the wicked one here?!
"You shower first. I'll inspect the situation afterward," she commanded, then shoved me into the bathroom.
"Hey! Wait! My underwear's still in my suitcase—"
Before I finished the sentence, a pair of boxers flew over the frosted glass and landed squarely on my face.
I started showering while grumbling to myself. Knowing a beautiful woman was on the other side of that glass—well, let's just say it made my heart race. I finished up quickly, got dressed, and just as I was about to step out, something felt off. I glanced down and instinctively grabbed a towel to wrap around my waist.
"Get in bed. Lights off. Eyes closed!" Meidi barked from outside.
Intimidated by her usual over-the-top authority, I obeyed, slipping under the covers and shutting off the lamp. The room went dark, save for the bathroom light still shining dimly.
I cracked one eye open and, sure enough, saw Meidi's wide eyes staring back at me. She pinched my arm hard. "I knew you couldn't behave!"
This woman was too cunning—she caught me red-handed with a surprise attack. I shut my eyes quickly.
The sound of water soon echoed from the bathroom. In the silence, that trickling water stirred something in me. I swear I'm not a pervert—I was simply acting on instinct when I glanced toward the frosted glass.
Through the steamy haze, Meidi's silhouette took shape. Though the glass blurred every detail, the image was still mesmerizing—like a goddess bathing in a heavenly pool. My mind wandered. My hands were folded like a monk, whispering om mani padme hum. I repeated: "No evil thoughts. No evil thoughts."
I swear—again—my thoughts were pure.
Just when my imagination was about to run wild, the water stopped.
I rolled over, shut my eyes, and began fake-snoring.
The bathroom light went out. Darkness enveloped the room.
I heard the door open and smelled the faint scent of shampoo and flowers. Meidi walked across the room in silence. But then—thud! She tripped on a suitcase and yelped, falling directly onto my bed.
More specifically—onto me.
Her hand landed somewhere it definitely shouldn't have.
We both screamed.
Time froze.
In the darkness, our heavy breathing was the only sound. I stared at her. She stared at me. I'm sure both our faces were redder than fire trucks.
"You're such a pig," she growled in my ear.
I hissed back, "And you? Still haven't let go, have you?"
Realizing her hand was still… there… she squeaked and sprang off me, wrapped herself in a towel, and dove into her own bed across the room.
An awkward silence filled the air. Neither of us spoke. But we could clearly hear each other's heartbeats—like war drums echoing in the dark.
Finally, after who knows how long, we broke the silence at the exact same time.
"You hungry?"
Then, perfectly synchronized, our stomachs growled.
We burst out laughing, wiping away all the lingering awkwardness.
"I'll go get us some late-night snacks," I offered.
"Nooo," she whined. "I just showered. Be a gentleman and bring something back for me?"
"Of course!" I said with gusto. This was the perfect chance to earn some points.
"Hmm… I heard the Shaanbei-style cold noodles are amazing. Bring me a serving!"
"You got it!" I got dressed and skipped out of the room humming.
I was in a great mood. Even though things had just been hilariously embarrassing, I could feel our relationship changing—softening. For the first time, it felt like we might be something more than just colleagues.
Xi'an's famous cold noodles were a local staple. Even this late at night, vendors lined the streets, their stalls packed with hungry customers. The dish supposedly dates back to the Qin Dynasty, over two thousand years ago. According to legend, a local man named Li Twelve created it during a drought to impress Emperor Qin Shi Huang, who loved it so much that it became a daily meal in the palace.
With two servings in hand, I returned to the hotel. As I stepped out of the elevator, I caught a glimpse of a familiar figure entering another lift.
It was Professor Ye!
I blinked, surprised. Where was he going this late? Surely not out for snacks too? That's something us junior folks usually take care of.
I glanced at the elevator's digital display—he wasn't going down, but up. All the way to the 21st floor—the top.
Weird.
Curiosity piqued, I stepped back into the elevator and pressed 21. I wasn't stalking him, not really—I just wanted to know what he was up to. Something felt… off.
I followed at a distance as he stepped onto the rooftop terrace.
A sudden dread washed over me. Was he planning something drastic?
I picked up my pace and quietly found a shadowy corner where I could see without being seen.
The wind tousled his gray hair as he looked around, checking to make sure he was alone.
Then, slowly, he pulled something from his coat pocket.
My breath caught.
It was the Cold Jade Toad—translucent, glowing faintly white.
A tremor shot through my chest—
The Cold Jade Toad?!
Was this the same artifact unearthed from the noble tomb?
I clearly remembered Gu Meidi pointing out that the most valuable piece—the Cold Jade Toad—had mysteriously vanished during cataloging. She'd brought it up with Professor Ye, who simply told us not to worry. But now… now I was seeing that exact toad in his hands?
My mind reeled.
Could it be… Professor Ye stole it himself?
The thought struck like thunder. I couldn't believe it. The man I'd admired most in my field—the scholar who mentored me, who had always emphasized academic integrity—was now standing before me, holding the very artifact we'd thought lost?
No! No, this couldn't be!
Professor Ye isn't a thief!
He's not that kind of man! He taught us that those working with ancient relics must uphold the highest ethical standards because temptation is always nearby. He used to say: "You'll find priceless treasures in your line of work. But your soul must be more valuable than anything you touch."
And yet… the truth was right in front of me.
A phrase echoed in my head: You can know someone's face, but not their heart.
Was it all a facade? Had everything I believed about him been a lie?
My gut twisted. I felt like my ideals, my faith in something solid, had just collapsed into dust.
I was still wrestling with this devastating realization when something strange happened.
Professor Ye suddenly let out a low, agonized groan. He gripped his head with both hands, yanking at his hair as his shoulders convulsed violently. Something was wrong—seriously wrong.
I stepped forward instinctively, worried he was having a medical emergency—when he turned toward me.
And what I saw froze me in place.
His face was shrouded in a faint, dark mist. His eyes—bloodshot and glowing red—looked inhuman, demonic. But that wasn't all. Tiny green hairs began sprouting all over his face, erupting like wild grass from beneath his skin, spreading grotesquely across his features. In mere seconds, he looked like a ghoul with a green-furred face. He tilted his head back and let out a guttural, beast-like roar, and a plume of green vapor spewed from his mouth.
He was transforming.
He was turning into a corpse.
I stumbled back into the shadows, heart racing, limbs trembling. A wave of terror washed over me—shock, fear, grief, anger, helplessness—so many emotions clashing inside me at once.
And yet, even in his monstrous form, Professor Ye handled the Cold Jade Toad with a kind of reverence.
Cradled in his trembling hands, the toad glistened under the moonlight, its surface glowing with a cold, snow-white aura. Wisps of frost-like mist rose from its body, wrapping around it like a protective veil.
A truly extraordinary artifact…
Without hesitation, Professor Ye opened his mouth and placed the Cold Jade Toad inside. Then he sat cross-legged on the rooftop, motionless.
Immediately, a layer of frost began spreading across his face, moving swiftly down his neck and over his limbs. Within seconds, his entire body was covered in a translucent shell of ice, as if he'd donned a suit of living frost. Moonlight struck his figure and bounced off with an ethereal chill.
I stood frozen, speechless, as the entire scene unfolded.
About fifteen minutes passed before the frost on his skin slowly began to melt away. To my surprise, the green fur on his face faded with it, and his eyes gradually returned to their normal, human state.
It dawned on me then—the Cold Jade Toad had the power to suppress corpse transformation. That's why it had been placed inside the mouth of the ancient mummy. Professor Ye hadn't stolen it for greed… he'd taken it to save himself.
But… why was he infected with corpse poison?
I'd been his student for over two years and had never suspected a thing.
At first, I was filled with righteous anger, believing he'd betrayed everything he stood for. But now, knowing the truth, I felt a wave of sympathy. The man had stolen not out of desire, but desperation.
Professor Ye spat out the Cold Jade Toad and let out a long, weary sigh.
As he turned to leave, I stepped out from the shadows.
He stopped in his tracks, shocked to see me.
"Tuoba Gu?! You… What are you doing here?!"
"I went out to get some food," I said, awkwardly. "I saw you heading to the rooftop… I got worried and followed you. I'm sorry, Professor. I didn't mean to spy on you."
He exhaled deeply. "So… you saw everything?"
I nodded. "So the missing artifact—it's been with you all along."
He looked ashamed. "I must've really disappointed you. I betrayed your trust as your mentor…"
"You know what this means, Professor," I said. "Stealing an artifact like that could land you in prison."
"I know," he replied. "But I had no choice. I need it to stay alive. Without it… I'd have fully transformed tonight. You'd be talking to a monster right now."
I couldn't argue. He was right.
He looked me in the eyes. "Tuoba Gu… you're my best student. If you believe I should be punished, then report me. But if you still value my life, then forget everything you saw tonight. Speak of it to no one."
I looked at his face—lined, exhausted, hollowed by time and struggle. I knew I shouldn't cover for him… but I also couldn't condemn him to die.
In the end, I nodded. "You have my word. I'll never tell a soul. But please… tell me the truth. How did you get infected with corpse poison? Why didn't you ever tell us?"
He led me to the edge of the rooftop. The wind tousled his graying hair as city lights flickered far below.
"It was seven years ago," he began. "A time I've tried hard to forget."
He paused, then continued.
"Back then, a group of explorers discovered a human-skin map—one that pointed to a hidden Miao tomb deep in the jungles of southwestern China. They invited me to join their expedition. I accepted."
"You found the tomb?" I asked.
He nodded. "After braving swamps, insects, and near-death, we located it. But we had no idea it would be so deadly. The place was crawling with cursed mummies and venomous traps. During an escape attempt, I was betrayed—left behind as bait while the others fled."
"What?!" I shouted. "They used you as a decoy?!"
He smiled bitterly. "Humans can be worse than any monster. For wealth or survival, they'll sacrifice anything—honor, loyalty, even each other."
He took off his shirt, revealing a broad shoulder scarred by time. Pointing to a jagged, discolored wound, he said, "One of those mummies bit me. Took a chunk of flesh this big. That's how the corpse poison entered my body."
The wound was horrifying—like a hunk of meat had been torn out and never healed properly.
I clenched my fists. "Did you ever track them down? The ones who left you?"
He shook his head. "What's the point? Revenge never ends. Some are likely dead. Others are hiding. Let karma deal with them."
I asked, "Why didn't you ever tell us any of this?"
"Would you tell your students something so shameful?" he said. "The first few years, I could suppress the symptoms. But lately… it's gotten worse. Every full moon, the poison surges. Soon it'll reach my heart, and when that happens, I'll become a green-haired monster. Just imagining it makes my skin crawl."
He looked up at the sky. "When I saw the Cold Jade Toad in that tomb, I knew what it was. I knew it could suppress the poison. That's why it was in that corpse's mouth—to stop it from turning. I stole it to survive. And tonight… it saved me again. I just didn't expect you to witness it."
I hesitated. "Can it cure you permanently?"
"Maybe. If I use it a few more times, perhaps. If not, at least it'll help me keep the poison at bay."
He gripped my shoulder. "Tuoba Gu… once again, I beg you. Tell no one about tonight."
I raised my right hand. "I swear to heaven, Professor Ye Sheng—your secret is safe with me."
His face softened. "Come. We should get back. Gu Meidi might get suspicious if we're gone too long."
As we stepped into the elevator, Professor Ye suddenly turned to me and asked, "So… how are things going between you and Gu Meidi?"
The question caught me completely off guard. My face turned red. "W-what do you mean?"
He chuckled knowingly. "Don't play dumb, kid. You think I can't see through you? I've lived long enough to read people like books. Gu Meidi is a wonderful girl—you'd be a fool not to make a move. I've done everything I can to create chances for you. Don't let me down!"
His words warmed my heart, and I blurted out without thinking, "I'll complete the mission, sir!"
Back in the hotel room, I found Gu Meidi doing squats. I blinked. "Uh… what exactly are you doing?"
She groaned dramatically. "Finally! I'm starving to death. I heard that exercising can suppress hunger."
I laughed and handed her the takeout in my hand. "That's nonsense. Working out only makes you hungrier. Here—authentic Shaanxi liangpi noodles. Super local, super tasty."
She snatched the food like a prisoner of war. "You took forever! What happened?"
I scratched my head. "Well… the stall had a crazy line. I waited forever."
She raised an eyebrow. "Wow, such dedication! You deserve a reward."
My heart skipped a beat. A reward? A kiss, maybe? Or… maybe sharing a bed tonight? My imagination took off like a rocket.
She grinned and declared, "Ta-da! Your reward is… bringing me breakfast tomorrow morning!"
Boom. Her words struck me like thunder. All my daydreams vaporized.
The next day, the International Antique Exhibition kicked off at the Xi'an Convention Center.
Professor Ye, being a distinguished guest, gave a short but impressive opening speech.
The event attracted tens of thousands of collectors, experts, and curiosity-seekers from across the country. The convention center was swamped with people—some lugging bags full of cash hoping to score rare finds, others carrying their heirlooms to sell at high prices, and plenty who were just there for the spectacle. Gu Meidi and I, being under Professor Ye's wing, didn't need to fight the crowds and were among the first to enter.
Inside, the massive convention center was lined with hundreds of exhibits, displaying relics from across dynasties. Security was tight—special police units stood alert at every turn. No expense was spared to protect the priceless artifacts.
Despite our years of fieldwork with Professor Ye, we were still overwhelmed. The sheer volume and brilliance of these ancient treasures made our past discoveries seem minor by comparison. Every piece here was a jewel of the cultural heritage world—the best of the best. Lesser relics weren't even qualified to be shown here.
My eyes sparkled like a kid in a candy store. I practically drooled.
Gu Meidi gave me a side-eye. "Tuoba Gu, why do you look so pervy?"
I wiped the corner of my mouth. "I was just thinking… these relics must be worth billions. If they were all mine, I'd be richer than Elon Musk!"
She rolled her eyes. "Dream on, greedy boy. But hey—your family used to be corpse salvagers on the Yellow River, right? Didn't you ever haul up any treasure?"
I replied, "Easier said than done. There's no such thing as a free lunch. My grandfather once pulled up a massive iron ox from the river. Thing was the size of a truck cab, pitch black and smooth from the current. He donated it to the Henan Cultural Heritage Bureau. You can still see it in their museum."
As we chatted, we wandered deeper into the exhibition hall. Priceless relics lined both sides of the aisle, each exuding ancient charm and centuries of history. Even with our background in archaeology, we could only recognize a handful of the items on display.
Let me highlight a few standouts:
First, a "Hetian Jade Lotus-Handled Incense Burner." Crafted from flawless white Hetian jade, the piece was about the size of a clenched fist. It had twin handles shaped like lotus pods, suspended by fine jade chains from a delicately carved screen above. Under the lights, it shimmered like frozen starlight. I glanced at the auction tag—just the zeros on the price made me dizzy.
Next to it stood a stunning "Blue-and-White Glazed Octagonal Yu-Hu-Chun Vase with Dragon & Phoenix Motif." It was priced in the tens of millions. Its unique octagonal shape featured eight sculpted edges—extremely rare in ancient porcelain. The pale blue glaze held a powerful image of a dragon soaring amidst clouds. Definitely a royal artifact.
Then we stumbled upon a Han Dynasty bronze table. In the center was a carved ding (ancient tripod vessel) with waves splashing from its rim. Two mythical beasts danced on either side. On the outer corners stood copper flower trees with exotic birds perched among the leaves. Every surface was covered in intricate patterns. Under the lighting, the table reflected a quiet, timeless glow.
Suddenly, Gu Meidi tapped my shoulder. "Hey, they're auctioning an ancient corpse over there. That's a first. Let's check it out!"
We followed the crowd to a transparent upright crystal coffin. Inside lay a remarkably well-preserved corpse. As we stepped closer, we froze.
It wasn't the price that shocked us—but the corpse itself.
Gu Meidi and I exchanged a look of disbelief.
The corpse looked exactly like the one we found in the turtle-shaped coffin—the same face, the same armor.
His features were sharp and angular, with a strong nose and deep-set eyes—clearly Central Asian in ancestry. He wore a spiked steel helmet, a black suit of armor, and gripped a crescent-shaped sabre. His face was lifelike, as if he'd just fallen asleep.
Gu Meidi whispered, "A Western Xia warrior!"
How could another one of them appear here? Was this corpse taken from a similar turtle coffin? Could there be more? Were these warriors elite guards—or royal sacrificial guardians?
While I pondered, Gu Meidi circled to the back of the coffin. "Tuoba! Come look!"
I joined her. She pointed to the back of the corpse's neck.
There it was—the same strange tattoo of an eyeball. So vivid, it seemed to pulse with life.
I guessed, "It might be a totem of the Western Xia people. Or a kind of cultural symbol?"
"No…" Gu Meidi shook her head.
"What do you mean?"
She said, "The one in the turtle coffin had a green eye tattoo. This one's… blood red."
I hadn't noticed that, but she had a photographic memory. I trusted her.
"We should find the seller," I said. "Maybe they know something about these Western Xia corpses."
That mysterious coffin had haunted us for months, with no leads—until now. We had to follow this thread.
We quickly found a staff member and asked about the seller of the corpse.
He looked skeptical. "You… want to buy it?"
I nodded. "That's right."
He glanced at the price tag and scoffed. "Kid, are you serious? Can you even afford it?"
I was speechless. Just as things got awkward, Gu Meidi stepped in. She pulled out her phone and faked a call like a pro socialite. "Hello? Secretary Liu? How's the Microsoft deal coming along? Oh? Gates still wants to think it over? Typical Americans—so cautious over a few billion. Honestly…"
The staffer turned pale. Within seconds, he called over a stunning young woman in a sleek black dress…
The young woman introduced herself, "Hello! I'm Zhou Jie. I heard you two are quite interested in this mummy, right?"
I asked, "Are you the owner of this corpse?"
Zhou Jie smiled. "Not exactly. My boss is the actual owner—Mr. Zhao. Folks in the trade call him Fat Monk. He's been in the antique business for nearly two decades and is pretty well-known around the border regions. I'm just his assistant."
Gu Meidi reached out and shook her hand. "Nice to meet you, Miss Zhou! My husband and I are collectors of rare and unusual items. Our home is practically a mini-museum, and we came to this expo hoping to discover something truly unique. When we saw a mummy listed for auction, we couldn't resist. Most people might find it creepy, but to us, it's a piece of art. We'd love to display it right in our living room. Isn't that right, dear?"
She affectionately hooked her arm around mine and called me "hubby" so sweetly it made my heart race and blood pressure spike.
But the idea of putting a mummy in the living room was downright terrifying. I wasn't the only one unsettled—even the staffer and Zhou Jie looked visibly disturbed.
Zhou Jie gave a nervous laugh. "Well… if you two are genuinely interested in buying this mummy, I can take you to meet Mr. Zhao right away."
"That would be great," said Gu Meidi. Then she tugged at my sleeve. "What are you waiting for? Let's go!"
As we walked off, she whispered in my ear, "Tuoba Gu, if you keep staring at Zhou Jie's butt, I swear I'll skin you alive and turn you into cold noodles."
I shuddered and reluctantly looked away, cursing myself under my breath.
Outside the expo center, long lines of visitors still waited to get in.
Zhou Jie ushered us into her Audi TT and sped off toward downtown Xi'an.
She was surprisingly candid during the drive. She openly admitted she was not only Fat Monk's secretary but also his mistress. He had bought her a villa in the Qujiang district of Xi'an. While he was often away on business, she handled some office matters in his absence. Each time he returned, they'd spend a few days together, and he'd leave her a generous sum of money.
We listened without judgment. This was modern society—we'd seen it all by now.
The Audi finally pulled up in front of a 30-story office tower. Zhou Jie said, "Mr. Zhao's upstairs. Follow me."
We rode the elevator to the 14th floor. Just as Zhou Jie raised her hand to knock on the office door, it suddenly flew open. A tall man in black rushed out, slamming into her and knocking her to the ground. Without a word, he bolted into the elevator and disappeared.
Everything happened so fast we didn't get a clear look at the man's face.
Zhou Jie scrambled to her feet, cursing, "What the hell is wrong with people? Nearly broke my ribs! If I see that jerk again, I'm slapping him twice across the face!"
We followed her inside. She stepped into the office—and immediately let out a blood-curdling scream. Then she turned, trembling, and collapsed into my arms.
Our eyes widened in horror.
A middle-aged, heavyset man was slumped in a leather chair. His eyes were rolled back, head tilted lifelessly to one side. A gleaming dagger was buried in his chest, blood soaking through his white shirt. There was no doubt—this was Fat Monk.
I quickly put the pieces together. That man in black had to be the killer.
I turned to chase after him—but Zhou Jie fainted in my arms.
Police arrived shortly and sealed off the scene. Zhou Jie, hysterical, was comforted by an officer. Gu Meidi and I gave our statements. Unfortunately, none of us had seen the killer's face. All we could report was that he was tall and wore a black coat.
As we exited the building, I felt a wave of frustration. We had just come to meet Fat Monk, only for him to be murdered moments before. Any leads about the mysterious sarcophagus were now lost. I was deeply disheartened.
Gu Meidi had been quiet the whole walk. I thought the shock had gotten to her. Just as I was about to offer some comforting words, she stopped abruptly and turned to me, serious-faced.
"There's something I didn't tell the police," she said.
I was stunned. "What do you mean? Don't tell me you know who the killer is?"
"No," she said. "I didn't see his face… but I noticed something incredibly strange."
I felt a chill crawl up my spine.
"He had a tattoo—on the back of his neck. It looked like an eye."
Boom.
It felt like thunder exploded inside my head.
"What?!"
Things were spiraling into the surreal. That eye tattoo—what did it represent? How could the same symbol from a thousand-year-old mummy appear on a modern killer? Time travel? No, that's TV drama nonsense! But still… what connection could exist between this assassin and that Western Xia warrior? Why kill Fat Monk? What secrets had died with him?
I was still trying to make sense of it all when Gu Meidi added, "It wasn't just any eye. It was crimson red—exactly like the one tattooed on the mummy's neck."
We returned to the hotel full of questions. That night, we told Professor Ye everything. Even he, seasoned as he was, looked shaken.
After a long pause, he said, "This is deeply troubling. You two have been exposed to the mummy—your lives could be in danger. We can't sit back and wait. We need to investigate this head-on."
I stubbed out my cigarette. "You're right. We return to Hezi Village tomorrow."
Professor Ye nodded. "This journey will be perilous. You're smart, but still green. I'm coming with you."
That night, I lay in bed, mind racing.
Why did the turtle-shaped coffin contain a Western Xia corpse?
Why was a death worm from Central Asia planted inside its skull?
Were these warriors immortals or cursed offerings?
What did the crimson eye tattoo mean?
And how could the same mark appear on a killer today?
What was the connection between the killer and the mummy?
Too many questions. My head throbbed. I forced myself to sleep—we'd figure it out in the village.
Two days later, we arrived back in Hezi Village.
Grandpa looked startled. "You're back again?"
I told him everything and got straight to the point—we needed his boat to search the river upstream for the coffin's origin. Our guess was it had drifted down during heavy rains. If we could trace it back, we might uncover the truth.
I thought he'd agree immediately.
Instead, Grandpa refused.
"Why not?" I asked.
He took a slow drag on his pipe. "No reason," he said coldly.
"Then I'll go by myself."
"You dare?!" Grandpa slammed his pipe on the table, veins bulging on his forehead. "If you do, don't call me your grandfather anymore!"
I rarely saw him lose his temper like this. I shut my mouth and left.
Outside, Gu Meidi whispered, "He's acting like a different person. It's scary."
"I don't know why," I said. "He's always hated me going near the river. He only agreed last time because you suggested it."
"Then let's just take the boat ourselves."
"No way!" I shook my head. "The Yellow River is dangerous. Treacherous currents aside, there are hidden threats beneath the surface. If anything strange happens, we won't know how to handle it without Grandpa."
"You're right," she agreed. "If that ghost ship appears again, we'll need him. He's been on this river his whole life. He's seen things. He knows what to do."
Professor Ye chimed in, "Don't lose heart, Tuoba Gu. Your grandfather must have his reasons. Let me talk to him. Maybe he'll change his mind."
Half an hour later, Professor Ye returned. I immediately asked him how it went.
With a faint smile, he said, "Your grandfather agreed to take us out on the river."
"Seriously?" I was pleasantly surprised. "But just now he seemed so adamant! How did you manage to convince him?"
Professor Ye replied, "I simply told him the truth—that you're in serious trouble, and it's likely that a killer is already closing in. If we don't take initiative, both you and your grandfather could be in real danger. Rather than sitting around waiting for death, it's better to act first and uncover the truth. Once he realized how dire the situation is, he agreed to take us out himself. Deep down, he knows this all started because of him, and he doesn't want you to suffer because of it."
I gave him a thumbs-up. "Impressive! Can't believe a little threat talk got Grandpa to change his mind so fast."
Ye's expression turned serious. "This isn't threat talk—it's the truth. Haven't you realized how bad this is? Fat Monk was murdered just for buying that Western Xia corpse. That means whoever is behind this is hunting down everyone connected to it. It's only a matter of time before they come after you."
Hearing him put it that way made my stomach sink. This was no simple archaeological detour—it was becoming a fight for survival.
"Oh, right," Professor Ye added. "Tuoba Gu, your grandfather wants you to go to the old house. He said he's waiting there—needs to talk to you."
I told Professor Ye and Gu Meidi to rest in the new house, then made my way to the old one alone.
The lighting inside was dim. Grandpa was sitting on the kang bed, a small square table in front of him with a flickering oil lamp casting a melancholic glow around the room. On the table were a few small dishes—some peanuts, pickled vegetables, and a bottle of strong baijiu.
I called out to him and climbed onto the kang, sitting across from him after taking off my shoes.
The scene brought back a flood of childhood memories—Grandpa on the kang, sipping baijiu, cracking peanuts, and telling me fantastic stories of the Yellow River. Back then I was just a kid curled up under the quilt, wide-eyed and in awe. Now I'd grown into a man, and his temples had turned gray. A lyric drifted through my mind: "Time peels off the walls, revealing childhood." Nostalgia and sorrow gripped me.
Grandpa handed me a tiny cup, poured some baijiu, and the rich aroma filled the air.
"Grandpa, what did you want to talk to me about?" I asked.
He raised his cup, clinked it with mine, then took a hearty swig before tossing a couple of peanuts into his mouth. "Tuoba Gu, do you know why I've never let you go out on the river alone?"
I shook my head. Honestly, I'd always wondered. As a kid, I used to envy the other children who could paddle out and play on the river. I didn't dare join them—afraid of being scolded—so I just watched from the shore. Occasionally, I'd sneak out with them, splashing around in secret.
Grandpa let out a deep sigh. "It's because of your father."
"My father?" I was surprised. I had always assumed it was because of that strange incident when I was seven—when we hauled up the corpse of a little girl, and on the way back, I heard weeping from under the water… and saw strands of hair rising up from the river.
He nodded. "After your father died during a river run, I swore I'd protect you. I couldn't risk the same thing happening again."
His words struck me. No wonder Grandpa had always been so strict—he was trying to shield me from the same fate. That tragedy must have left a scar he never recovered from.
He continued, "According to family tradition, our craft as corpse fishers on the Yellow River should pass down generation to generation. But after your father's death, I vowed to break that chain. Even if our ancestors curse me from the afterlife, I didn't care. I lost my son. I wasn't going to lose my grandson too. That's why I pushed you to study hard, to get into college, to leave this village behind… so you'd never have to touch this cursed business again."
I could see the tears welling up in his eyes.
I was deeply moved. To break such a powerful ancestral tradition takes more than resolve—it takes a love that puts family above legacy. He sacrificed a centuries-old heritage to give me a chance at a peaceful life. That's something only the deepest love can drive a man to do.
Grandpa drained his cup in one go. "Little Gu, I hope you can understand why I did what I did. Don't think I'm weak. I'm not afraid to die—but I couldn't let you walk into danger. You've never seen the things that lurk along the Yellow River. It's birthed five thousand years of civilization, yes—but also more death than you can imagine."
Tears welled up in my eyes. I raised my cup and drank. "Grandpa, I understand."
He poured us both another round, then leaned in with a heavy tone. "I brought you here tonight because I want to tell you your father's story."
I sat up straight. I'd always longed to hear more about my father. But Grandpa had remained tight-lipped for years. All I knew was that he had died during a river mission. Now, finally, Grandpa was ready to speak.
He sipped the baijiu, cracked some peanuts, and began.
"Your father, Tuoba Gang, was in his early twenties when he married your mother. You were just a baby. To support the family, he worked tirelessly along the river.
One day, a big job came in. A mine boss from Shanxi had been murdered and his body dumped in the Yellow River. His family came to us, the most respected corpse fishers in the region, offering a large sum to recover the body. They even paid a hefty deposit.
I didn't feel right sending him alone on such a task, so I decided to go with him. After settling things at home, we set off together.
You know those boats—small black-sailed craft, symbolic. Black represents death. Supposedly, spirits recognize these boats as ferrying the dead and won't interfere. Normally, it's a one-man job, but we rigged a small motor on the back to move faster.
Before departure, we performed the rites: placed a red rooster at the bow, a bowl of white sticky rice with three incense sticks, and offered it to the River King.
Then something strange happened—one incense stick snapped in half as it burned. Traditionally, that's a terrible omen. A broken stick means bad luck. I tried to convince your father not to go, but he was stubborn. Said our fate wasn't dictated by superstition—that maybe it was just the wind.
He was right about the money. He wanted to build a new home for you and your mother. I gave in. To this day, I regret not stopping him. Our ancestors left us warnings for a reason. If only I had listened… maybe he'd still be alive."
His voice trembled with pain. He gulped down another swig of baijiu, eyes reddening. Decades had passed, yet the wound was still raw.
I tried to comfort him. "Grandpa, you're not to blame. We're just people—we can't predict the future. I don't believe in fate, but… some things really do feel destined. If death has your name, nothing can stop it. As the saying goes, 'When the King of Hell calls your number, you won't live past dawn.'"
Grandpa said nothing. He kept drinking silently, his face bathed in the dim glow of the oil lamp—old and worn, like the bark of a weathered tree.