Evil Spirit - chapter 7

Chapter 7

“Alright.”

After being rejected, Duan Qinglian drew back and returned to his original position.

In the soft tone, Li Jiaojiao strangely detected a hint of disappointment.

The two instantly fell into silence again.

This silence lasted until the sun had set halfway, when the coachman broke it by knocking on the carriage roof.

The coachman told them they had arrived at Guilin Town.

Guilin Town is the first stop where Shen Yunlan and Fang Zhiyi face trials in “Yin-Yang Master,” and it’s also where Duan Qinglian first began to recall memories from before.

Guilin Town isn’t very big. In the original story, before it was plagued by demon spirits, the town was considered prosperous and wealthy.

Li Jiaojiao pulled Duan Qinglian along to look for an inn to stay in. They nearly circled half the town before finding one. Although it looked extremely shabby from the outside-and truly was on the inside-Li Jiaojiao had no complaints. After all, having somewhere to stay was already good enough.

But the innkeeper didn’t seem particularly pleased at the sudden arrival of guests.

“Innkeeper, is something strange?” Li Jiaojiao waved at the innkeeper, who kept spacing out, and asked in confusion.

The innkeeper, behind the counter, held a pen in one hand and a ledger in the other. He seemed to think for a long time before finally speaking: “Why have you come to Guilin Town?”

Of course Li Jiaojiao knew why the innkeeper was hesitating, so she simply laughed it off: “We’re just passing through.”

“Passing through?” The innkeeper hesitated, his eyes scanning them up and down. The girl wore luxurious clothing, her skin fair and delicate-a young lady from a rich family, surely. The man beside her was even more striking: rosy lips, white teeth, as graceful as jade.

No matter how you looked at it, it seemed like a wealthy young lady eloping with a charming gentleman.

“I can let you stay for one night, but tomorrow you must leave early-the sooner, the better.” The innkeeper wasn’t going to meddle further. He patted the dusty ledger, opened it to register them, then closed it and handed over a room key.

Li Jiaojiao froze and didn’t take it. “Innkeeper, we want two rooms.”

But the innkeeper had no intention of giving her another room: “Miss, I advise you, it’s best to stay with your lover.”

Lover?

Li Jiaojiao’s eyes widened. What was the innkeeper imagining?

She glanced at Duan Qinglian beside her, but saw that he seemed not to hear, his gaze resting on the distant mountains outside the inn’s front door, looking as though he was not involved at all.

She knew she couldn’t count on Duan Qinglian.

“Innkeeper, are you afraid I can’t pay for the room?” Li Jiaojiao, exasperated, took a silver ingot from her purse and set it on the counter. How could she be okay sharing a room with Duan Qinglian?

“Oh my!” The innkeeper slapped his thigh. “Miss, I’m a businessman-if there’s money to be made, why wouldn’t I take it?”

“It’s just that if you stay alone, with no one to protect you, I’m afraid something might happen.”

Li Jiaojiao didn’t understand what the innkeeper meant, and after she coaxed and pressed for a long time, the innkeeper finally spoke, hesitatingly.

“Miss, since coming into town, have you seen any women?”

Thinking back, Li Jiaojiao shook her head. Indeed, since entering the town and finding the inn, she hadn’t seen any women-the hurried passersby on the street were all men.

“All the women in our town have been eaten by the monster in the mountain behind…”

At the mention of “monster,” the innkeeper’s eyes filled with terror.

Though Guilin Town is close to the Capital, it isn’t large and sits in a rather remote mountainous area.

Moreover, the town’s funeral customs are also somewhat strange.

Those who die a natural death after the age of sixty receive a joyful funeral, which is normal; the family goes through the proper rites and buries the deceased. But if someone dies violently or from illness, they can only be wrapped in a straw mat and thrown onto the mountain behind town. They can’t enter the ancestral tombs, and even burial in the earth is a luxury.

Over time, that patch of land behind the mountain became an ominous place, piled with bones.

The innkeeper said the monster was born from there.

It only comes out at night, targets women, and, after catching them, drags them into the mountain.

At first, the men of the town also went into the mountain to search, but they never came back down. They had no other way, so they pooled their money to hire a Yin-Yang Practitioner.

A brave man from the town went up the mountain with the Yin-Yang Practitioner. Just before nightfall, they came back to town in terror. The Yin-Yang Practitioner tossed aside the silver and refused to help any further, fleeing overnight, while the man told everyone what he had seen on the mountain.

The women who had recently been taken were all dead, their bodies piled together, covered in unknown vines and flowers, rotting beyond recognition.

As for the men who had gone into the mountain that day, they were hung one by one from the Big Locust Tree. Some were dead, some alive, but not one had an intact body: some were missing a leg, some had both arms broken, some were missing chunks of flesh all over their bodies, as if gnawed by wild beasts-utterly gruesome.

Afterwards, all the women in the town were taken, young and old, not one left. And the already small Guilin Town gradually declined-people fled or scattered.

Li Jiaojiao listened to all this, her face pale as death. The plot only said there were monsters in Guilin Town; it never mentioned the terrifying details the innkeeper described. Stiffly, she tugged Duan Qinglian’s sleeve: “Ah Qing, can I stay with you tonight?”
Withdrawing her gaze, Duan Qinglian lowered his head to look at the pale-faced young girl, smiling but giving no answer.

Li Jiaojiao took his silence as agreement, accepted the key from the innkeeper, and dragged Duan Qinglian upstairs.

Even after entering the room, she was still terrified. The women the innkeeper mentioned being abducted looked exactly like the corpses she had seen in the earthen cave.

She definitely didn’t want to become fertilizer for flowers!

Glancing at Duan Qinglian, who was sitting at the bedside carefully wiping his Sword Line, Li Jiaojiao hurried over and sat close beside him.

He paused his cleaning and looked at her.

The girl looked timid, her fair little hand tugging at his sleeve, her voice soft and sweet, like the cry of a cat not yet a full moon old.

“Before I recover my memory, will you protect me?”

“What did you just call me?” Duan Qinglian tilted his head, looking at the girl from this strange angle, the curve of his lips gently spreading.

“Uh?” Li Jiaojiao’s hand froze for a moment, unable to keep up with his train of thought, but she still tried, “A-Ah Qing?”

A clear, pleasant laugh flowed softly into her ears. He looked at her, his brows and eyes curved in delight.

It seemed that this unintentional, intimate nickname pleased him. Half his face was bathed in the backlight of the setting sun, radiating a gentle joy.

“You’ll protect me, right?” Taking advantage of his good mood, Li Jiaojiao pressed on.

“I will.”

Receiving Duan Qinglian’s affirmation, she finally felt a little relieved.

But soon, she faced another problem-sleeping.

Li Jiaojiao hesitated for a long time, but Duan Qinglian was straightforward. He went downstairs himself to ask the innkeeper for a set of bedding and made a bed on the floor.

Duan Qinglian fell asleep quickly. Not long after lying down, Li Jiaojiao could hear his breathing gradually steady, while she herself tossed and turned on the bed, unable to sleep.

In the end, her gaze involuntarily landed on him again.

Tonight’s moonlight was bright, its gentle rays shining through the paper window and illuminating the room. Duan Qinglian lay flat, hands folded on his chest, his soft hair spreading like ephemeral flowers, the moonlight draping over him like thin gauze, so much so that even the delicate texture of his skin could be seen clearly.

Li Jiaojiao held her breath, lost in her observation. The more she looked, the harder it was to look away.

Suddenly, his lightly closed eyes opened, blooming like a lotus at night. The cold moonlight trembled on his lashes. “You’re looking at me again.”

Her body wrapped in the quilt stiffened. Li Jiaojiao watched as his pale fingertips moved to his soft lips.

“Or are you looking at them?”

The girl on the bed changed expression, abruptly turning away and burying herself in the quilt like a turtle.

Glancing at the bulging quilt, Duan Qinglian chuckled softly and closed his eyes again.

After a while, he heard a muffled voice from under the covers: “I’m a little scared. Can you let me hold your hand for a while?”

With that, a small hand stretched out from the edge of the quilt.

That little hand was white and tender, as delicate as a half-pulled lotus root from river mud. If one gripped the wrist and twisted gently, the sound of bones breaking would be heard.

He wondered, under such pain, would her voice still be as soft as a cat’s?

Duan Qinglian raised his hand, his fingertips touching the skin of her wrist.

The cat’s hand was not as cold as his; warmth spread from her palm to his fingertips.

Li Jiaojiao poked half her head out from under the quilt, sensing no danger at all, and instead grabbed his hand tightly.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Her apricot eyes blinked under the quilt, the dark pupils reflecting a halo of light.

Strangely, he no longer wanted to break her hand.

Duan Qinglian closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth in his palm, the curve of his lips gently lifted, looking extremely gentle.

Li Jiaojiao, emboldened, looked at him again. “Are you sleepy?”

“A little.” He blinked lightly, his gaze never leaving their joined hands. As he looked, the corners of his lips inexplicably rose.

Li Jiaojiao, her head poking out from the quilt, was full of questions. “Why are you smiling?”

Duan Qinglian curled his fingers, his fingertips brushing her palm, causing a ticklish sensation that made her instinctively shrink her hand.

“Yesterday you trembled with fear when you saw me, but today you dare to hold my hand. Are you not afraid of me anymore?” He didn’t answer, but asked in return.

Li Jiaojiao rolled her eyes inwardly, but her face showed a sincere smile. “Didn’t I say? You and I are destined. You won’t kill me.”

She emphasized the word “won’t,” already planning to give him this psychological suggestion every day until he was brainwashed into truly believing it.

Hearing this, Duan Qinglian smiled but said nothing more.

After a moment of silence, Li Jiaojiao spoke again: “You don’t believe it?”

“Believe what?” Duan Qinglian paused. “That you’ll lead me to goodness, or that you and I are destined?”

“Hmm…” Li Jiaojiao blinked, hinting, “The destined part.”

After all, her target was no ordinary person; his worldview was worryingly twisted. Directly leading him to goodness was a very abstract possibility. Starting from romance gave her a bit of hope. As long as she made him fall for her, he would surely listen. In the original story, Duan Qinglian was the ultimate pure-hearted lover, willing to do anything for Shen Yunlan.