Chapter 127: The Mystery of the Mountain

"What are you doing out in the middle of the night instead of sleeping?" Yang Man asked.

I let out a sigh of relief. She had startled me, but it was only her.

I looked at her, puzzled. It was the dead of night, yet she was fully dressed, her cloth shoes neatly tied. This didn't look like someone who had just woken up.

"We couldn't sleep, so we were just wandering around. Tell me, does anyone live over there?" I asked, pointing toward the direction where the firelight had appeared.

Yang Man looked at me with a strange expression. "Why do you ask?"

"I thought I saw a shadow," I said.

"You saw wrong. There's no one there. You shouldn't go back, either. That deep forest is full of wild beasts, especially at night; they’re fierce and will hurt people. You should hurry back to sleep," Yang Man said.

Her denial was too swift, almost reflexive, as if she were deliberately hiding something. There was definitely something strange about those woods.

I didn't say anything more. I called Tu'e and we headed back to our rooms. Yang Man didn't leave; she followed us until we were safely inside our respective rooms. I could sense that she didn't go far, but remained nearby, watching us to ensure we didn't head back out.

Whether or not a "Ghost Crone" lived in those mountains, I didn't know, but there was certainly a secret hidden there.

The next morning, we were up at the crack of dawn for training. Old Man Ma didn't make me run twenty laps; based on my performance yesterday, he told me to run ten.

After those ten laps, I was just as exhausted as the day before, my vision blurring as I collapsed to the ground. I dragged my weary body back to the house, performed twenty-five push-ups in the backyard, and then ate breakfast, my body completely limp.

When Yang Man brought the food over, she gave me and Tu'e a pointed look, clearly not having forgotten about last night.

Taking advantage of our breakfast break, I asked Old Man Ma about the events of the previous night and the eerie green firelight.

Old Man Ma acted as if he had known all along, saying calmly, "She knows what we do. If she needs help, she will naturally come to us. Since they don't want us to know, and it doesn't cause any major trouble, we don't need to concern ourselves with it."

Since Old Man Ma had said so, there was no reason for us to be nosy. We were here to hide, not to make enemies.

I asked again, "Master, what exactly is a Ghost Crone? You’ve never told me."

He had promised to tell me long ago, but he never had. Although Tu'e had explained it to me when we encountered one before, I wanted to hear Old Man Ma's professional take.

Old Man Ma seemed to disdain even mentioning it. He said flatly, "A Ghost Crone is a monster that is half-human, half-ghost. It clings to a single breath of life, dragging its decaying body around to cause harm, taking lives and stealing spirits to prolong its own existence."

"How do you kill such a thing?"

"You just cut off that last breath. The simplest way is to burn it until nothing remains. Didn't you say you burned one to death before?" Old Man Ma asked.

"Are you sure it can't come back to life after being burned?"

"If it’s burned thoroughly into ashes, not even the Heavenly Emperor could bring it back!"

That put my mind at ease. I was sure it wasn't the same Ghost Crone revived, but the scene was just too similar to what I had witnessed in my childhood.

Since it didn't concern us and they didn't need our help, I wouldn't meddle. Even though I still heard hoarse coughing and saw the strange green firelight every night, I gradually grew accustomed to it.

After several days of training, my physical fitness improved significantly. I learned quite a lot from Old Man Ma and managed to sample all the wild game the mountains had to offer.

The village remained peaceful every day. The only "lively" event was the passing of an elder in one of the families. Many outsiders came to pay their respects, and they even hired Taoist priests to perform funeral rites with music and chanting.

In the evening, after finishing my training, I saw several villagers hurrying toward a certain house. It wasn't the house where the funeral was being held. Why were they in such a rush?

I couldn't help but ask, "Where are you all rushing to? What happened?"

"The child from the second uncle's house is missing. He must have wandered off while playing in the mountains. We're heading over to look for him," one of them said.

Lost in the mountains? In this deep, vast wilderness, a child going missing was a serious matter!

"Let us help you look," I said.

The group's expressions flickered with something strange. One of them said, "No need. You aren't familiar with this place; you wouldn't be of any help, and you might even get lost yourselves."

They hurried off. It was clear they didn't want me to discover the mysteries of the mountain. They wouldn't even let me help look for a missing child—what kind of secret was hidden in those mountains that they were so desperate to keep from us?

Old Man Ma walked out of the house. "You should go to the funeral house tonight and take a good look. You need to understand the stamina required for this line of work. I've already spoken with them; just go over once you've finished dinner."

I was stunned. I had always viewed Old Man Ma, Tu'e, and Xiao Qingwan as distinct, otherworldly figures, while my impression of local shamanistic figures was that they were just charlatans. I had always separated the two. In reality, however, their nature was the same. I was, in a sense, now a colleague of those shamans.

Because of the incident with the Ghost Crone when I was a child, I hadn't attended a single funeral in all these years—I had even been kept far away from my grandfather's funeral.

That night, I went to the house holding the funeral. The Taoist priests were outside, chanting and playing music—a scene both familiar and strange. The coffin sat in the center of the living room, with an altar set up before it, complete with incense, candles, and offerings. Straw mats were spread along the walls on both sides of the coffin, where men and women sat barefoot.

Though I had been told it was arranged, no one paid any attention to me. Everyone was either nodding off from exhaustion or whispering to those beside them. Tu'e hadn't come, and I was incredibly bored on my own.

The priests began their ritual, singing and dancing, accompanied by the clatter of instruments. From time to time, they would lead the mourners forward to offer wine and burn paper money. As the night deepened, I stayed in a corner, feeling immensely drowsy. I truly admired the stamina of these priests—how were they not tired?

A chilling, bone-deep coldness permeated the room, and I jolted awake from my half-slumber. The yin energy had suddenly intensified!

The dim incandescent bulb flickered and died, and the candlelight on the altar transformed into a ghostly, eerie green!

The mourners panicked. "What's going on!" "Why did the lights go out?" "Is the Fourth Uncle refusing to leave?"

Gusts of icy wind swept in from outside. The paper money on the altar scattered across the floor, and the candle flames danced violently. People screamed, and the children began to wail.