The Keeper of Myths - Chapter 12

With a single phone call, Bai Yin dragged Pei Xueting out of her home in the middle of the night.

Pei Xueting was wearing flip-flops and baggy shorts, looking like a homebody just going downstairs to take out the trash. She sat cross-legged on the office desk, persistently redialing Bi Fang’s number, but it was always out of service. Dressed impeccably, Tan Zhen sat beside her, flipping through Bi Fang’s business trip records.

“Bi Fang’s on this trip to perform Exorcism for a small town. Remote towns like that always have some unclean things,” Bai Yin said, her pale fingertips tapping the map. “He’s been gone for two weeks already. If he wasn’t slacking off like usual, it shouldn’t have dragged on this long.”

“Bi Fang’s nature is of fire. Ordinary Evil Spirits can’t do anything to him, so there’s no need to worry too much.” Pei Xueting pressed her palm downward to calm everyone. “From your description, it sounds more like there’s no signal because it’s so remote.”

Despite saying that, Pei Xueting still dialed another number. “Is this the communications company? This is the Action Department of the Special Investigation Bureau, Pei Xueting speaking. We need your assistance with an investigation. I’ll give you a number-please tell me which signal base station this number last used to make a call.”

—

The sound of dripping water was endless, interspersed with faint footsteps. When the sixty-seventh raindrop landed on his forehead, Fang Dongqing finally opened his eyes.

He stared blankly at the scene before him. Through wisps of curling smoke, a group of men and women knelt before him.

He tried to move his limbs, but found it difficult to even lift a finger.

Suddenly, the crowd fell silent. A person draped in a colorful burlap sack, face smeared with paint, stepped to the front. He threw his head back and shouted, waving a torch and dancing with strange steps, chanting something in a mysterious, rhythmic tone.

If Fang Dongqing weren’t seated so high up, he would have been sprayed in the face with the man’s spittle.

The person, apparently the Priest, finally finished his convulsive dance, lit the candle in front of Fang Dongqing with the torch, and then extinguished the torch.

Yet Fang Dongqing’s heart, suspended in his chest, did not settle.

With a thud, the Priest knelt down, making Fang Dongqing’s own knees ache in sympathy.

But the Priest seemed oblivious. He prostrated himself, loudly reciting prayers Fang Dongqing couldn’t understand, then drew a white Bone Knife from his waist.

Fang Dongqing inexplicably felt a chill at his waist.

—

“Xiao Fang, yes, I remember her,” the Village Party Secretary said, patting his head as he looked at the photo. “She did come here a while ago. I must say, you leaders are too harsh-how could you send a young woman to such a tough place like ours?”

The Village Party Secretary’s gaze silently reproached Pei Xueting.

Pei Xueting rolled a fruit candy around with her tongue, forcibly swallowing her anger, and replied with a smile, “That was our mistake. But after Xiao Fang returned, she said her work wasn’t finished, so we sent another team.”

The Village Party Secretary peered at Pei Xueting through his reading glasses, then at Tan Zhen, who looked even more slender standing behind her, his expression turning doubtful.

Pei Xueting tapped the table to draw his attention back. “I’d like to ask, where did Xiao Fang go while she was here?”

Bi Fang’s trip was officially for science education, but in reality, it was for driving out Evil Spirits. The Action Department’s work reports were always delayed until Bai Yin had to chase after them multiple times, so Pei Xueting could only determine Bi Fang’s general whereabouts.

As for exactly where he went, the Tracking Talisman’s range was limited, so Pei Xueting had to check village by village.

The Village Party Secretary pulled out a wrinkled little notebook, licking his finger as he flipped through the pages. “Let me see… Xiao Fang’s lectures were pretty good, and the villagers were all eager to attend. But for some reason, she left without saying goodbye to anyone.”

Pei Xueting listened patiently and casually asked, “Are there any taboos here?”

The Village Party Secretary’s fingers paused on the notebook, his round eyes fixing on her.

Pei Xueting smiled apologetically. “I’m just asking, so I don’t say anything inappropriate during class and offend the villagers. I’m young, this is my first time doing this kind of work, I lack experience.”

Tan Zhen suppressed a smile at Pei Xueting’s nonsense.

“There aren’t any particularly strict taboos. After all, we’ve been open for so many years now,” the Village Party Secretary said, continuing to flip through the notebook.

“Oh.” Pei Xueting, fruit candy in mouth, walked to the window, took off her sunglasses, and looked around.

This village sat at the foot of the mountain, right on the edge of the deep forest. It could be called a place of picturesque scenery. Yet after removing her sunglasses, Pei Xueting saw not only the vibrant, almost dripping green, but also the thick, cloud-like Yin Energy, winding its way into the depths of the forest.

“This is a good place,” Tan Zhen said softly, appearing at her side at some point. “There are Five Unburiable Mountains: barren mountains, rocky mountains, broken mountains, crossing mountains, and solitary mountains. All of them, without exception, violate the taboos of yin-yang imbalance and lifelessness. But here, yin and yang coexist. It should be a blessed land.”
“Yes, it should have been a ‘blessed land’, but the Yin Energy here is so heavy.” Pei Xueting wrinkled her nose as she listened.

On the other end, the Village Party Secretary was still unaware that the two of them had already seen through everything here at a glance. Suddenly, he shouted, “Found it, found it! Xiao Fang’s list of households for lessons.”

Pei Xueting took a photo of the list, thanked him perfunctorily, and then casually asked, “Village Party Secretary, does anyone live up in the mountains?”

The Village Party Secretary’s relaxed face tightened, and he glanced at her uneasily. “Xiao Fang asked you to ask this, didn’t she?”

Pei Xueting’s heart skipped a beat, and she quickly smiled, “Of course! Xiao Fang has been worried about it all along!”

The Village Party Secretary sighed, “I’ve told her already, don’t take it too seriously. There are indeed people living up there, but they’re extremely xenophobic. They don’t even send their children out to school. We’ve tried for years and never convinced them. You two better not go stirring up trouble in there!”

Pei Xueting agreed readily, and without another word, led Tan Zhen back to the guesthouse.

That night, she shed her ‘sent-down youth’ outfit, changed into tactical boots, a sports vest, and a cold-weather jacket, grabbed her backpack, and prepared to head up the mountain. Tan Zhen silently blocked the doorway, his ink-dark eyes staring at her.

Pei Xueting genuinely felt that Lu Wu had something wrong with his head. She gently persuaded Tan Zhen, “We don’t know what’s up there yet. If you get sick or hurt, it’ll be hard to deal with. If I lose contact inside, I’ll need you to fish me out…”

“You used the same trick on Si Nan when you opened the coffin, didn’t you?” Tan Zhen said slowly.

Pei Xueting was momentarily speechless. That Little Qilin really couldn’t keep his mouth shut!

“Before I left, I told Bai Yin that if we don’t contact the Special Investigation Bureau within two days, they’ll send reinforcements.” Tan Zhen picked up his own backpack and opened the door. “Don’t underestimate me, Great Celestial Master.”

—

Pei Xueting carried with her the air of someone who had clawed her way through the streets; as long as she wanted to, she could get by anywhere. During dinner at the guesthouse, she had the kitchen uncle laughing out loud, and with just a few words, she got the information she wanted.

The village deep in the mountains was called Yin Family Village. As for whether all the villagers were surnamed Yin, that was impossible to verify.

The people of Yin Family Village were all strange. No matter their age or gender, they never left the village, nor did they let outsiders in. Last year, a few college students doing rural teaching tried to persuade the village children to go to school, but they couldn’t even get into the village and were almost beaten up at the entrance.

The road leading from the foot of the mountain to Yin Family Village was overgrown with weeds, winding like a twisted snake, struggling its way up the mountain. The mountain air was heavy with moisture, dense trees shrouded in thick mist, their shapes vague and indistinct.

The two of them walked on without stopping for who knows how long. The forest was so quiet it made one afraid to breathe.

Pei Xueting shone her high-powered flashlight and touched the broken limb of a fern by the roadside.

“What’s wrong?” Tan Zhen followed her gaze.

“Bi Fang has been here.” Pei Xueting pointed to the half-broken branch, which still bore traces of scorching. She searched the ground, and soon found a phone with a shattered screen in the grass-a popular Fruit Thirteen model.

“Looks like someone was chased here by something.” Pei Xueting’s mood darkened slightly as she stuffed the ruined Fruit Thirteen into her backpack.

The further they walked, the more desolate the road became; it hardly looked like anyone lived here at all.

Yet at this moment, the fading moonlight filtered through the overlapping leaves, and the sound of rushing water grew clear. Pei Xueting looked at the turbulent river not far ahead; across the river, mist swirled, faintly revealing the outlines of houses, but not a single human voice could be heard.

The damp, moldy Yin Energy grew even stronger.

“Forgive my poor eyesight, but is there a bridge over that river?” Pei Xueting pointed to the stone bridge, clearly from a different era than the concrete road.

“I’m afraid so,” Tan Zhen replied. “Not just a bridge, but one built from stacked stones. It looks very old.”

“Whatever, let’s go check it out.” Pei Xueting drew the gun from her lower back, checked the safety, her tone cold and hard. “No matter what’s in there, Bi Fang is one of mine. Even if he’s dead, I have to bring him back for burial. Dying here-what kind of ending is that?”

Tan Zhen corrected her blandly, “He’s a bird.”

Pei Xueting shot him a glance. “Undermining me when I’m talking tough-did Si Nan teach you that? I’ll have him teach you how to write a self-criticism when we get back.”

The two walked side by side, and the further they went, the colder and damper the air became, the mist and moisture growing heavier. Before they even reached the bridge, Pei Xueting’s eyelashes were already soaked with water vapor from the air.

The high-powered flashlight pierced straight through the mist, illuminating the face on the other side of the bridge.

If Song Xiaoming were here, he would probably have screamed himself into a faint.
But Pei Xueting and Tan Zhen only stared coldly at the man.

He was a man with a flat, ordinary face-one who would disappear in a crowd in a second-yet there was something inexplicably strange about his features.

In a flash, Pei Xueting understood, her heart pounding like a drum.

A powerful flashlight shone directly into his eyes, but the man didn’t blink, nor did he try to dodge. He simply stood there, rigid and resolute, facing the beam and staring at the two uninvited guests.

“Go back,” the man said flatly. “You cannot come in.”

Pei Xueting decided not to pretend anymore. She tilted her head and smiled, “What if I insist on coming in?”

She stepped onto the stone bridge, and the bottomless river below instantly began to churn. Pei Xueting locked her gaze on the man across the bridge, ignoring the black mist crawling up from the water along the stone bridge. The sharp, painful cries of children echoed in the air, shrill and piercing.

“Go back!” The muscles on the man’s face twitched as he roared.

Pei Xueting grabbed Tan Zhen’s wrist and charged straight toward the man.

The stone bridge shook violently, as if countless hands were trying to tear it apart. Yet Pei Xueting’s steps remained swift and steady. In just a few seconds, the two of them had reached the other side of the river.

The man guarding the bridge raised his hoe menacingly and swung it at Pei Xueting.

Pei Xueting shoved Tan Zhen aside, ducked low, snatched the hoe, and drove her elbow fiercely into the man’s chest. He gasped for air, nearly passing out, and staggered back several steps before regaining his footing. With a flick of her toe, Pei Xueting kicked the hoe into the river.

The struggling hands reaching up from beneath the water were struck squarely by the falling hoe.

From the moment she approached this river and this village, Pei Xueting had seen the shadow of death. But when she took down the man at close range, she felt the unmistakable thump of a living heartbeat.

This was a living person.

Although his movements were slow and stiff, the black mist on his brow was so thick it could be used as ink, and he had no pupillary reflex, he was, without a doubt, still alive.

“Tan Zhen,” Pei Xueting realized the danger here far exceeded their expectations before coming, and she whispered, “You can still turn back now.”

“Can I?”

Tan Zhen leisurely pulled out a water brush and drew a Talismanic Script on a piece of toilet paper. The moment the script was completed, it glowed, ignited without fire, and turned to countless ashes that drifted into the river with the wind. It was as if a cartload of quicklime had been dumped into the water-the entire surface began to boil, and the screams exploded instantly, nearly piercing their eardrums.

A wind blew from deep within the dense forest, and the mist gradually faded. A faint glow shimmered on the river, outlining the indifferent profile of Tan Zhen’s face.

The more advanced one’s cultivation, the more freely they could create Talismanic Scripts. Pei Xueting had drawn Runes on all kinds of surfaces, including, but not limited to, the Talisman she made for Song Xiaoming.

But this was the first time she had seen someone draw such a powerful Talismanic Script so casually, as if sketching a draft.

The agitation on the river calmed down, but the people of Yin Family Village were beginning to awaken. From within the thick fog came the sounds of doors and windows being pushed open, and shadowy figures slowly gathered at the head of the bridge. The man who had guarded the bridge also stood up and silently rejoined the crowd.

Being watched by such a silent group, even Pei Xueting broke out in a cold sweat. Tan Zhen quietly stepped behind her, cutting her off from the stone bridge.

“Someone’s here,” someone in the crowd said softly, their tone tinged with laughter.

“That’s good. Now that you’ve come to Yin Family Village, we’re all family.” The speaker stepped forward, and Pei Xueting saw his face clearly.

He was an excessively thin man, with high cheekbones and nothing but skin stretched over his face, not a trace of extra flesh. He wore simple, coarse clothing, his wrist bones jutting out from his sleeves, and he reached out to shake Pei Xueting’s hand.

Tan Zhen was quicker, grasping the man’s hand first and forcing him back a step without a hint of emotion.

The man glared at him viciously, but Pei Xueting felt inexplicably annoyed. “Who are you trying to intimidate?”

“Yin Jiu, don’t bully the children. We’re all family here,” the man who had guarded the bridge suddenly spoke. “Whose children are these? Take them home!”

Only then did the crowd become lively, chattering noisily as if inspecting some goods, arguing over where Tan Zhen and Pei Xueting should go.

Pei Xueting’s gaze fell on the bridge guard. He hunched his back and slowly turned away from the crowd.