The Night Watcher of Great Jing - Chapter 23

Every gaze in the tent converged on Zhao Li’s face.

The tip of her nose was red. Wrapped in a white wolf-fur cloak, her cheeks pale and thin, she looked especially bright-eyed and innocent. And yet…

The words emerging from that small mouth sent a chill down everyone’s spine.

A corpse? Walking?

Aside from Shen Yan, whose face remained as somber as ever, only Daoist Xuanxu managed to stay composed.

Huang Li and Lin Zhu—especially Lin Zhu, whose entire worldview had been remade only yesterday—could not help leaning back.

As for Lu Zhao, who was about to lead the grave-digging party, doubt churned in his heart. Had he misunderstood her?

“A shambling corpse? You mean a dead body can walk?”

Lu Zhao asked the question cautiously.

“Yes!” Zhao Li’s answer struck him another heavy blow. “Not only can it walk, but once it senses a living person’s yang energy, it will lunge at them and bite.”

Seeing Lu Zhao’s face go pale, she hurriedly offered some reassurance. “But they move very slowly. They are the lowest class of corpse-type supernatural anomaly. There are plenty far more dangerous than these, so you can relax, Lord Lu.”

Lu Zhao shuddered.

There were plenty far more dangerous than these?

What excellent reassurance. Please never reassure me again.

“Then what do we do if we encounter one?” Lu Zhao asked miserably.

“When the rooster crows, dawn breaks beneath heaven. Roosters are creatures of extreme yang. Throwing glutinous rice soaked in rooster blood will disperse the yin energy inside these shambling corpses.”

Zhao Li sniffled again and drained the hot water in her bowl. “If one handful is not enough, use two.”

“If anyone is accidentally bitten, pack the wound with the same blood-soaked rice. It will draw out the corpse poison.”

As for being bitten to death, that was nearly impossible!

These shambling corpses moved slowly, and their teeth were loose. After a bite or two, every rotten tooth in their mouths would fall out. Rather than fear being bitten to death, people should worry about getting a scrape and developing an infection.

“A-All right.” Her logical and detailed explanation finally gave Lu Zhao a little confidence.

“Lord Lu, take your sharpest men and protect Old Yi. Once you find the grave, dig it up at once. Ideally, open the coffin at noon. Make absolutely certain it is the right person before burning the body with peachwood.”

Zhao Li gave him another reminder. She did not want the kind of ridiculous mishap seen in movies, where they burned the wrong corpse.

Lives were at stake, and Lu Zhao was naturally cautious. Still, without Zhao Li accompanying him, he had little confidence.

He asked about several more details and was just preparing to leave when Daoist Xuanxu, who had been deep in thought, said, “I’ll go with you.”

He had listened for a long time and wanted to see the Yin-Gathering Pool for himself. He rose and volunteered on the spot.

Delight appeared on Lu Zhao’s face.

Shen Yan did not hesitate. “Thank you, Daoist Xuanxu.”

Daoist Xuanxu had neither reason nor motive to oppose the Jingning Guard.

During the night, Shen Yan had also ordered Old Yi, the corpse bearer, brought over to identify the Daoist from the Lin family case in secret. Xuanxu was not the man they had hired all those years ago.

In that case, having him accompany the party would unquestionably give them greater protection.

With Daoist Xuanxu going, Zhao Li had far less to worry about.

The medicine began to take effect, driving some of the bitter cold from her body. She grew pleasantly drowsy and wanted nothing more than to sleep.

Once everything had been settled, she mumbled two final instructions, stumbled back to her own tent, and fell asleep the moment she lay down.

She did not notice Lin Zhu watching her, repeatedly starting to speak and stopping himself.

…

In early spring, during the third lunar month, the mountain was barren. Now and then, a burial mound emerged from beneath the wild grass that nearly covered it.

Old Yi led a group of Jingning Guard agents toward the place where he remembered Miss Lin had been buried.

Mount Jin lay deathly still.

There was only the moan of wind and the soft rustle of hems brushing across dead grass as the men passed.

The dozen or so men Lu Zhao had brought were all young, able-bodied elites selected from the Jingning Guard.

Sabers hung at their waists. Each carried a bundle of peachwood branches and a hoe on his back, while a leather pouch giving off a fishy odor hung from his belt.

On assignment, the Jingning Guard was deadly serious.

The oppressive mood left Old Yi panting. He did not know the truth, but as they traveled, he sensed that something was wrong.

Ever since they crossed the boundary of mengshi stone and cinnabar, the deeper they ventured into the mountain, the quieter it grew. By now, not even an insect could be heard.

Only the whispering footsteps of their party remained in the mountains.

Old Yi grew more nervous with every step. Suddenly, a noise came from ahead.

“Who goes there? The Jingning Guard is conducting official business! All bystanders, clear the area!”

It was broad daylight, so the Jingning Guard agent escorting Old Yi as he guided them did not think too much of it. He drew his saber and called out a warning first.

The words “Jingning Guard” were a threat in themselves. Under ordinary circumstances, even an official or member of the gentry would step aside or call back upon hearing the name, lest there be a misunderstanding.

No reply came from ahead. There was only the scrape of cloth and a series of dull thuds.

The agent who had shouted was Lu Jianxing, one of the three men Lu Zhao had specially promoted.

His blade rang free of its sheath. He strode forward, following the sound.

It was not far away. He parted the waist-high grass beside the mountain path and saw a mound of yellow earth.

The soil was fresh, but the burial mound had been thrown into disarray, exposing one corner of the coffin.

The sound came from the narrow space between the mound and the mountain wall.

“The Jingning Guard is conducting official business! All bystanders, clear the area!” Lu Jianxing shouted again.

He sidestepped twice and saw a figure crouched with its back to him between the grave and the cliff.

Thud. Thud.

Its hair hung loose. Half crouching and half kneeling, it was slowly knocking its head against a protruding rock.

Lu Jianxing stopped dead.

He had served in the Jingning Guard for years and possessed sharp eyes and a quick mind. The instant he saw the figure, he noticed what it was wearing.

The blue-black cloth robe was muddy and made of the ordinary material favored by commoners in the capital. Patterns of the character for longevity covered its surface.

It was unmistakably a burial robe.

Lu Jianxing’s heart began to pound.

In broad daylight? Surely not.

Suddenly, a hand reached out from behind him.

Lu Jianxing jolted from head to toe.

He spun around and saw Old Yi, the corpse bearer.

Old Yi’s face was bloodless, and his teeth chattered. “M-My lord… I personally carried this man to his grave only a few days ago!”

His voice trembled on the edge of tears. The words struck Lu Jianxing like a bucket of icy water dumped over him in the depths of winter, chilling him to the bone.

The two men stood frozen, neither daring to move.

The commotion drew the attention of the men behind them.

Several came forward, Lu Zhao among them, and their breathing caught.

More than a dozen burly men stood to the side, watching the figure bash its head against the mountain. For a time, no one dared utter a word.

“Let me see. Let me see!”

Only Daoist Xuanxu was excited.

He carefully placed a medicinal plant inside the cloth sack on his back. A layer of black frost had formed on its surface under the influence of yin energy.

Then he hurried over and squeezed his head past Lu Zhao’s shoulder.

His words seemed to trip some hidden switch. The figure battering its head against the rock abruptly stopped.

Slowly, it turned its head. The motion was so stiff they could almost hear the creak of the bones in its neck.

As the figure moved, the hair-covered scalp atop its skull slid down with a wet flap, covering its face and exposing bone white as snow.

Cracks and dents were clearly visible across the skull, along with black-red, jellylike fluid seeping from within.

The line of Jingning Guard agents before the grave took a perfectly synchronized half-step back.

They all drew breath at once.