MLV Ch 43

Was the Liu family tragedy an accident or was it orchestrated? Jiang Ye remembered Zhang Yi saying that the Ghost Bodhisattva wasn’t for protecting the house, but for sealing the door. Someone knew they would be investigating the Liu family and deliberately trapped them inside. Or perhaps someone was luring Jiang Ye into a trap, trying to kill him. Thinking of the headless corpses that had been inexplicably chasing him, Jiang Ye felt the latter was more likely.

And that dark figure who had saved him—was it Jiang Ran?

Just as he was pondering this, a WeChat message arrived from Shen Duo.

Shen Duo: [Professor Bai had a cerebral hemorrhage and fell in the bathroom. He has passed away. The memorial service is today at 4 PM at Liaoling Cemetery.]

Jiang Ye was stunned, a dark shadow falling over his heart.

Argos: [Teacher Shen, Professor Bai’s death isn’t that simple.]

Shen Duo: [I know. At the Jiasa hospital that day, what you wanted to tell me wasn’t about you and Ah Zhe dating, was it? Did Professor Bai contact you? What were you originally going to say?]

Jiang Ye clutched his phone, unsure how to reply. An non-existent person… would Shen Duo believe him based on his word alone? Perhaps he would; after all, Shen Duo had encountered far more supernatural events than he had. Jiang Ye was about to type when he suddenly remembered Bai Nianci’s warning. Wait, he suddenly realized something. At first, he thought Bai Nianci had told him not to mention Jiang Ran to protect him. But he had already been targeted by some unknown creatures, hunted repeatedly, and had nearly died in perilous situations.

Jiang Ye carefully thought back. The old hunter couldn’t recall Jiang Ran’s name but remembered his existence, and not long after, he died in the Xinu Mountains. His mother knew about Jiang Ran and was currently missing. Bai Nianci remembered Jiang Ran and died of a cerebral hemorrhage. Bai Nianci’s warning wasn’t to protect him, but to protect others. Anyone who knew of “Jiang Ran” would likely die a violent death.

Jiang Ye’s gaze hardened. He slowly deleted the words in the chat box.

Argos: [It’s nothing.]

Shen Duo: [Xiao Ye, do you still not trust us?]

Argos: [Sorry.]

Shen Duo: [Alright, if you decide you want to tell me, call me anytime. The notification email for the Academy’s selection exam has been sent to your inbox. Remember to check it. I hope to see you in class at Capital University in the future.]

Argos: [Thank you.]

Jiang Ye turned off his phone, his gaze unconsciously falling on Jin Feize’s peaceful profile. The guy was in a deep sleep, his breathing light and steady. Jiang Ye gently moved his head onto the pillow and left the bedroom. In the living room, Zhang Yi was sitting sprawled on the sofa and said “Hi” to Jiang Ye.

“He’s here to get his saber,” Li Miaomiao said.

Zhang Yi was wiping the saber as it rested on his lap. 

“Sorry, I can’t leave this blade with you. It’s a bit malevolent.”

After setting the table, Li Miaomiao walked over and asked, “Malevolent? How so?”

“It’s called ‘Shi’a.’ It was unearthed from a general’s tomb in Henan in the 1980s. There was a document in the tomb, specifically for grave robbers, saying this blade was forged from the teeth of three hundred prisoners captured by the general. It was extremely vicious from the moment it was forged and would cause trouble if it didn’t drink blood, so the general hired three sorcerers to suppress it. He told later generations that they could steal anything from the tomb, but never this blade. The archaeologists at the time didn’t believe in superstitions, thinking the tomb owner was just being dramatic, and took the blade back to the research institute. As a result, every half a month, a researcher at the institute would inexplicably go to the artifact storage room in the middle of the night and commit suicide with this blade.” Zhang Yi shrugged. 

“Then the Academy took over the blade and sent it to our Heavenly Master Mansion.”

“So how did you guys suppress it?” Li Miaomiao asked.

“We didn’t,” Zhang Yi said, putting the saber back into the golf bag. 

“We just use it to kill a chicken every half a month.”

Li Miaomiao was shocked. 

“That works?”

Zhang Yi said, “Works like a charm. We’ve figured out its patterns. It loves to eat geese the most; after one goose, it’s fine for a month. It hates rats the most; if you use it to kill a rat, it’ll need to see blood again within five days at the latest.”

Jiang Ye frowned. 

“A blade can become an anomalous creature?”

“Not an anomalous creature, an anomalous object,” Zhang Yi said, tilting his chin at him. 

“However, the reason I can’t give it to you isn’t just because it’s malevolent. There’s a more important reason.”

Li Miaomiao, thinking there was some other terrifying legend about the blade, leaned in and asked, “What’s the other reason?”

Zhang Yi stroked the scabbard, his face grave. 

“Because it’s expensive. I couldn’t afford to replace it even if I sold myself.”

Li Miaomiao: “…”

Jiang Ye asked, “Do you have any leads on yesterday’s Ghost Bodhisattva?”

The Ghost Bodhisattva had a strange appearance, especially its three eyes, which were deeply unsettling to look at. In her letter, Liu Bei had warned them not to gaze into the third eye. Was she referring to the eye on the Ghost Bodhisattva that had yet to open?

Zhang Yi slowly shook his head. 

“Sorry, that was my first time seeing that thing too. In the past, the jobs I took were at most to drive out some filth from haunted houses or get rid of some wandering ghosts possessing people. Those anomalous creatures are easy to deal with; you can scare a few away just by setting off firecrackers. Is it very important to you? I could go back to the mountain and ask my master-uncle for you?”

A Daoist with dyed hair really wasn’t very reliable, Jiang Ye thought to himself.

Actually, he had a few ideas of his own. He remembered Bai Nianci saying his mother believed that a mysterious faith existed in ancient Chinese history. This faith was born in antiquity and, after thousands of years, had survived in history and mythology through multiple variations. These variations all shared similar characteristics, such as being ethereal and formless.

Whether it was Tai Sui or Mahakala, they were all “black deities.”

Their essence was the same.

Zhang Yi stood up and stretched lazily. 

“My flight is at three this afternoon, I’m heading out.”

“I’ll see you off.”

“No need,” Zhang Yi stopped him. 

“I have a habit of doing a divination for myself before I go out. This morning, I divined that the direction of your home is extremely ominous. I don’t know the reason, but in any case, be careful at night for the next few days and don’t go out much. With Ah Zhe around, it shouldn’t be a big problem.”

Li Miaomiao was very nervous. 

“Daoist priest, do you have any talismans or blessed water to ward off evil for us?”

“We use those to scam suckers. They’re useless for you guys.”

Jiang Ye: “…”

It seemed he had just revealed some truth. No wonder the talismans Jiang Ye had bought online last time were completely useless.

“Oh, one more thing,” Zhang Yi glanced toward the bedroom, pulled Jiang Ye aside, and lowered his voice. 

“Although I don’t know what’s going on between you and Ah Zhe, as a brother, I have to give you some advice. It’s fine to fool around with him, but don’t get in too deep. Bro, you seem pretty level-headed. You haven’t fallen for him, have you?”

Jiang Ye’s answer was decisive and crisp. 

“No.”

“That’s good.” Zhang Yi waved his hand. 

“I’m off!”

At four in the afternoon, Jiang Ye changed into a black shirt and went to the mountain cemetery to pay his respects to Bai Nianci. The Bai family was of the Hui ethnicity and had requested a burial. Bai Nianci lay in a wooden coffin for transport, so Jiang Ye couldn’t see his face. Not many people were in attendance, mostly professors and students from South China University. Bai Nianci had no wife or children; the only family member present was his elderly mother. Jiang Ye stood in the crowd, lost in thought. He had read his mother’s papers and studied Taisui Village; perhaps there were clues in his own notes and computer.

Jiang Ye moved through the crowd to Bai Nianci’s mother. 

“Hello, Grandma. I’m one of Professor Bai’s students. With his passing, we were thinking of compiling and publishing his lifelong papers and writings as a memorial. May I visit your home to look at the professor’s works and notes?”

The old woman shook her head. 

“Professors from Capital University came by this morning and took all of Nianci’s things. Since you’re Nianci’s student, you should be able to contact them, right? I remember one of them seemed to have the surname Shen.”

He was a step too late. Jiang Ye sighed. 

“Thank you. Please accept my condolences.”

At four-thirty, the memorial service ended. The workers removed Bai Nianci’s wooden coffin, placed him directly into a bottomless stone sarcophagus in the grave pit, and then covered the body with a wooden lid. Jiang Ye watched them bury the lid and seal it with a marble slab. Professor Bai’s death was too suspicious. Jiang Ye’s heart was heavy. Who could have killed him? He felt a gaze from the crowd, like a needle pricking his back. He always felt someone was secretly watching him. Jiang Ye looked around but saw no one suspicious. He walked home with heavy steps, and it was nearly nightfall by the time he reached his apartment building.

The hallway was pitch-black. A trail of muddy black footprints went up the stairs; he didn’t know who had left them. Jiang Ye frowned. Many residents hadn’t paid their management fees, so the cleaning staff hadn’t been to this building in a long time. Jiang Ye took out his keys as he walked upstairs. The black footprints were beneath his feet, leading upward. On the fifth floor, Jiang Ye paused. The footprints didn’t stop on the fifth floor; they went up to the sixth. Only he and Jin Feize lived on the sixth floor, and these footprints didn’t match Jin Feize’s shoe size, nor Li Miaomiao’s.

He called Li Miaomiao. 

“Where are you?”

Li Miaomiao said, “I’m at sister-in-law’s place. We’re having dinner. What’s up?”

“Sister-in-law?”

“It’s Senior Jin! He slept all afternoon and woke up hungry. I figured you’d be back late, so I ordered some fried chicken with him. You want some?”

Jiang Ye: “…”

He hung up and went up to the sixth floor. The black footprints disappeared under his apartment door. The metal door was unlocked, left slightly ajar. The lights were off inside, and the crack was dark and lightless. Li Miaomiao opened Jin Feize’s door, coming face to face with Jiang Ye.

“What’s wrong, brother? You sound weird.” She glanced at her own open door and raised her hand to swear, “I locked the door when I came out.”

Jin Feize came out too, leaning lazily against the doorframe. He had obviously just woken up, with sleep marks still on his fair face.

“Do you sense any danger?” Jiang Ye stepped aside to show him the footprints on the floor.

Li Miaomiao gasped, her legs beginning to tremble. Without another word, she rushed into the kitchen and came out with a butcher knife.

Jin Feize shook his head. 

“Not sure. Want to sleep at my place tonight? We still haven’t fulfilled our agreement.”

Jiang Ye was already used to his inappropriate nonsense, regardless of the situation. Li Miaomiao had heard far worse, so he was numb to it. He ignored Jin Feize, pushed open his own door, and flicked on the entryway light. The stark white light illuminated the cramped interior. The black footprints entered the entryway and led to the dining table. Jiang Ye went inside, with Li Miaomiao following behind him, butcher knife raised, looking like she was facing a great enemy. Jin Feize followed with his hands in his pockets, yawning.

All three of them saw it at the same time. At the end of the black footprints, sitting on a chair at the dining table, was Bai Nianci’s corpse. It was naked, hair disheveled, and covered in dirt. His face was expressionless, his eyes turbid. He sat there ramrod straight, looking utterly terrifying.

Li Miaomiao’s voice was faint. 

“Should I call Daoist Zhang and ask him to come back?”

Jin Feize studied the body for a moment and said, “There seems to be something written on him.”

Jiang Ye looked closely. Something did seem to be carved on his dirty back. The wounds were deep but not bleeding, meaning they were carved after his death. However, the marks were covered by dirt and hard to see. Jiang Ye went to the kitchen, found a rag, and slowly approached Bai Nianci’s body.

Li Miaomiao was nearly suffocating. She whispered, “Brother, come back!”

Jiang Ye shook his head at her, signaling her to be quiet, and then slowly walked to Bai Nianci’s side. The body remained perfectly still, not even turning its head, like a true corpse. Jiang Ye took a deep breath and pressed the rag against its back. Li Miaomiao was about to faint, terrified that Bai N’s body would suddenly attack and bite Jiang Ye to death. Jiang Ye wiped his back bit by bit, and the dirt fell to the floor in a soft rustle. The words on his back were revealed one by one—

“Who are you?”

Jiang Ye’s brow furrowed tightly. As he pondered the meaning of this, he saw Li Miaomiao frantically making faces at him. He looked up and met Bai Nianci’s eyes. The corpse had, at some point, lifted its stiff head, and its turbid eyes were now staring fixedly at Jiang Ye, as if waiting for an answer.

The one asking the question wasn’t Bai Nianci, but the person who killed him.

Everyone who knew of Jiang Ran’s existence was doomed to die, but clearly, the killer knew who Jiang Ran was. Who was the killer? Perhaps not a person at all? Why would the killer question his identity? And how should he answer?

Jiang Ye suddenly realized this was an opportunity—a chance to get closer to the truth, to figure out who Jiang Ran really was. The killer had tried to kill him many times, but he had survived each attempt. They had evidently grown suspicious and begun to suspect he was no ordinary person, not to mention he looked exactly like Jiang Ran.

Why did the killer choose Bai Nianci to deliver this message? Because they were afraid of Jiang Ran, not even daring to show their true form in his presence, instead using Bai Nianci’s corpse to play tricks. If Jiang Ye were just Jiang Ye, he would certainly be intimidated by the corpse of his mother’s friend and expose himself. Then, like Bai Nianci, he would die a violent death.

But how could he convince them he wasn’t Jiang Ye? After all, he had grown up in Shen City; they could look up which kindergarten and elementary school he attended. Could he simply say, “I am Jiang Ran,” and the killer would believe him?

Bai Nianci’s expression grew more and more vicious, his entire face twisting.

Jiang Ye’s palms began to sweat. He realized he couldn’t wait any longer.

Jiang Ye took out the Beretta with the silencer, pressed it against “Bai Nianci’s” forehead, and said coldly, “Long time no see. I’m back.”

The pistol fired a cinnabar bullet, blowing off half of Bai Nianci’s head. The feeling of being watched that Jiang Ye had felt all day instantly vanished. The sensation of being stared at, of needles on his back, was gone.

Jiang Ye knew he had made the right bet.