Chapter Eighty-Two: The Official Cap

As the townspeople grew more excited, a chill crept steadily into my heart. The coffin beneath the moonlight seemed colder and colder, as if the ghost inside was waiting for the next move from the townsfolk.

Even Wang Erjun couldn’t hide his unease. “Xie Yuan, are you sure you can handle this? Maybe we should slip away. That coffin gives me the creeps—it’s like standing before Old Lady Ghost’s courtyard.”

I shook my head, my voice rough. “We can’t turn away now. Don’t forget what happened to Mr. Wang. He ignored Baihu Village’s plight, and in the end, he died there.”

Wang Erjun clenched his fists, muttering curses under his breath.

The butcher had already sliced off several pieces of meat, and some townspeople began waving, urging Daoist Zhou to give them a portion first. I could bear it no longer. I grabbed the fishing net that served as a barrier and gave it a hard yank.

The whole net tore away in an instant.

The crowd fell abruptly silent—no one rushed forward now that the barrier was gone.

“Xie Yuan. Don’t be reckless...” Wang Erjun murmured in a low voice.

I shook my head and stepped forward.

Daoist Zhou frowned slightly. “You’re not from Qianshui Town.”

I drew a deep breath and pointed to the base of the coffin, my voice hoarse. “You can’t eat this meat. Blood is dripping from beneath the coffin. There’s a vicious ghost inside—its blood has seeped into the meat. If you eat it, the consequences will be unimaginable!”

Before Daoist Zhou could speak, my words sparked a frenzy among the crowd.

“I saw this outsider this afternoon! He’s with the man sitting on the coffin!”

“That’s right! They don’t want us to prosper!”

“They definitely want to steal the luck brought by the water coffin! Daoist Zhou, don’t let them off!”

The shouts grew louder, mixed with curses and jeers.

The crowd pressed closer to Wang Erjun and me.

Sweat beaded on Wang Erjun’s forehead. He whispered, “Xie Yuan, there are hundreds of them—one spit each and we’d drown!”

My face was grim. I never expected such blind faith in Daoist Zhou from these townsfolk.

Even in Wang’s Pass, if Old Lady Li told people to eat meat tainted with corpse blood, no one would touch it.

Daoist Zhou gazed at me coldly. “I don’t know where you two are from, but as long as I’m here in Qianshui Town, you won’t take anything away from this place. I’ll give you a chance—leave now and I’ll pretend I never saw you.”

His words were arrogant, and the crowd roared, shouting for us to get out.

Sweat trickled down my brow as I clenched my fists and stared at Daoist Zhou. Suddenly, I said, “Daoist Zhou, are you so sure that coffin brings luck? What if it contains a vicious ghost? What happens if you eat its blood and flesh?”

“At the very least, you should open the coffin and see what’s inside. If it’s a ghost, you’ll condemn thousands in this town!”

Daoist Zhou scowled. “Stubborn fool, drive him out!”

My words had no effect—the townsfolk’s faith in Daoist Zhou ran deep. Not a single person wavered; instead, their curses grew more vicious.

A swarm of townspeople pushed us away from the riverbank.

Wang Erjun shielded me, and we were shoved far from the shore.

Spitting at us, the crowd demanded we leave.

If we didn’t go, if we caused trouble again, even if Daoist Zhou spared us, they’d throw us into the river themselves.

My face turned pale; Wang Erjun glared angrily at the townsfolk but said nothing.

The crowd returned to the riverbank.

From this distance, I could barely see the coffin.

“These people really value money over their lives...” Wang Erjun’s voice trembled.

“That’s corpse blood—they’re actually willing to eat it.”

I clenched my fists and shook my head, my voice rough. “Let’s wait here. We don’t know what might happen.”

We found a hidden spot, one where we could watch the riverbank without being spotted.

Under Daoist Zhou’s direction, the butcher divided all the meat from the three animals among the villagers.

Those who offered children received the largest shares.

Now that we were farther away, I noticed something I hadn’t before: a shadow surrounded the coffin, while the rest of the area was bathed in moonlight.

Despite the windless night, the river’s surface rippled ceaselessly.

The meat was divided until nothing remained, not even the bones—only the three heads were placed on the altar table.

The townsfolk each walked around the coffin, then left with their share of meat.

Soon, they passed by where Wang Erjun and I were hiding, heading back toward town.

I had no idea how long we waited, but eventually most of the crowd dispersed. The golden boy and jade girl were led away.

Only a dozen or so townspeople remained; Daoist Zhou and his young disciples then left as well.

“That bastard left guards—Xie Yuan, we can’t get close,” Wang Erjun complained.

I shook my head. “Let’s wait here. Whatever’s in that coffin isn’t anything good.”

Wang Erjun said no more, taking out a brush and spreading paper on the ground. He bit his finger and began drawing talismans in his blood.

His actions chased away some of the gloom in my heart.

But the talismans he drew were only shapes, powerless, not even resembling the proper pattern. If a true talisman isn’t infused with spirit, it fades away entirely.

As he drew, Wang Erjun muttered, “Whatever ghost you are, if you dare show yourself, I’ll slap a hundred talismans on your head! Scare me, will you?”

The moonlight grew colder.

The guards began nodding off.

The coffin remained unchanged, shrouded in sinister energy.

All night, the wind never stirred. The river’s surface kept rippling, the blood from the animals never dissipated, making the scene even more chilling and bizarre.

Eventually, Wang Erjun dozed off as well.

A night of waiting left my legs numb; I ended up slumped on the ground.

Dawn crept in, but the coffin remained unchanged.

Even as sunlight broke, nothing happened.

Wang Erjun shook his head, awakening, his expression uneasy. “Xie Yuan, it’s been all night, and nothing’s happened. Did Li Yue’s master make a mistake? If he got it wrong, we waited for nothing. Maybe he’s already gone...”

A chill ran through me. I clenched my fists. “Something’s definitely wrong. Let’s head back to the guesthouse.”

Wang Erjun helped me up, and we walked back.

The faint dawn found the town quiet, save for a steamed bun shop that had opened early.

Wang Erjun went to buy buns, but the owner chased him off with a broom.

“Get out!” he shouted. “Yesterday you were at the river telling us eating the Daoist’s meat would kill us—now you want to buy my buns?”

Wang Erjun gritted his teeth in frustration but could only support me as we made our way to the guesthouse.

At the entrance, we found the plump landlady sitting there, as if waiting for us.

My wooden trunk, which I’d left in my room, was now placed outside.

Wang Erjun’s face changed.

I frowned deeply.

“Get out! This town doesn’t welcome outsiders like you!” The landlady kicked my trunk.

My expression shifted; I stepped forward and pressed down on the trunk, opening it to make sure everything was still inside.

Before we could speak, she slammed the guesthouse door shut.

Wang Erjun pulled a long face. “Now we really have to leave. No one will sell us food, we’ve lost our lodgings, and once more people are up, if they get it in their heads to beat us in the street, we’ll have nowhere to cry.”

I looked up at the second floor.

Where was Li Cangshui?

Given the situation, were Li Cangshui and Li Yue still in the guesthouse?

Just then, the window of Li Cangshui’s room swung open.

The landlady carried a basin of water and dumped it down at us.

“Get out of here! If you don’t, I’ll let the dogs bite you!” she cursed.

Wang Erjun dragged me away just in time to avoid getting soaked.

“Damn, she threw boiling water! That fat witch must’ve been kicked in the head by a donkey!” Wang Erjun cursed, pointing at the steaming water on the ground.

My heart was uneasy.

Had Li Cangshui left the guesthouse as well? Where would they go?

Wang Erjun sighed. “Xie Yuan, maybe we should just leave. It’s not that you’re unwilling to help—they won’t let us. Even if the whole town dies, it won’t be our fault.”

“That Li Cangshui can’t be much. Li Yue’s a wild little thing—how could a capable master raise a disciple like her?”

As he spoke, he clutched his stomach. “We only had a few buns yesterday, and now I’m so hungry I’m dizzy. We have to leave. We’ve got money—surely we can find a real expert somewhere else.”

Just then, a steaming bag was tossed onto Wang Erjun’s chest.

He was about to curse when surprise overtook him. “Roasted sweet potatoes!”

He immediately tore open the bag and devoured them ravenously.

“Pfft, you’re just a pig—no brains, only know how to eat.”

Li Yue stepped out from the roadside, her twin ponytails swinging, giving her a lively, adorable look.

Wang Erjun stared at her, eyes wide, mouth agape as if scalded, but no words came out.

Li Yue grinned at me. “My master and I went to the City God Temple outside town last night. You’re not dumb—now Master says he wants to see you.”

A jolt ran through me, and I pulled Wang Erjun along, letting Li Yue lead the way.

Soon, we left the town behind.

Outside was indeed a derelict City God Temple, but it was several hundred meters up a small hill.

The temple sat atop the slope.

Li Cangshui sat in front of the temple, gazing toward Qianshui Town.

I instinctively turned to look as well—and what I saw chilled my heart.

The town wasn’t large; its houses clustered tightly, and from afar it looked like a hat.

Specifically, a hat with both ends protruding and a semicircular middle—the shape of an official’s cap.

“Do you know what this town is called in feng shui? You two dared to meddle in this matter,” Li Cangshui suddenly said.