Si Teng (Rattan) – CH 053

Chapter 53

It was obvious that merging with Chen Yindeng’s demonic power was quite difficult. Si Teng gradually grew tired and stopped talking to Qin Fang. Occasionally, she would pull at the blanket, seeming extremely cold. Sometimes, her brows were furrowed, and her lips were as pale as paper.

Even for ordinary people, blood transfusions required matching blood types. She had rashly taken Chen Yindeng’s magical power, and it proved to be more than just a matter of taking it and using it immediately. Qin Fang couldn’t offer much help, so he could only sit with her. Seeing how miserable she was, he asked if she was okay. Si Teng mumbled, “It’s just like a high fever. I’ll get over it.”

As the night deepened, he leaned on his chair, sleepiness creeping in. Half asleep, he suddenly heard Si Teng calling him, seemingly asking him to go back to his room. Exhausted, Qin Fang simply shook his head and fell asleep again. After an unspecified amount of time, he heard the door open downstairs, startling him awake. He realized it was already dawn, the rocking chair was empty, and he was still covered in the blanket. This reassured him that Si Teng’s call wasn’t a dream.

He yawned, rubbed his eyes, and walked to the railing. Yan Furui was packing his basket in the yard. Hearing the commotion, he looked up at him but, afraid to disturb others, whispered, “I’ll go burn paper for Wafang.”

Oh, yes, Wafang, the little kid with the small nose and eyes. Qin Fang felt a sudden sense of emptiness in his heart and said, “I’ll go with you.”

***

Yan Furui’s basket contained two rolls of yellow paper, two steamed buns, some simply wrapped incense, a small plastic pistol, a glass ball, and some old children’s clothes. It was still early, and the village was quiet. The two of them walked along the bluestone slabs toward the higher ground. As they walked, Yan Furui grew melancholic and chattered non-stop.

—”Our Wafang, still young and not in school, had been working with me on the stall all day. He’d been led astray by hooligans, cursing constantly, and I’d always slap him. If I’d known he only had this much time to live, I wouldn’t have hit him no matter what.”

—”When I found him, he’d been dumped behind a house, the size of a kitten. Don’t you think those parents have no conscience? If you can’t afford to raise him, don’t have him. Even if you do, you should raise him well.”

—”Miss Si Teng said Wafang was eaten by Red Umbrella. How painful that must have been. At the time, I was staying in Taoist Master Pan Qinian’s house, and his magic gourd suddenly started shaking. I found it strange, but I felt quite happy. I had no idea Wafang was suffering at the time…”

As Yan Furui was talking, he began to sob. Qin Fang felt deeply distressed. He helped Yan Furui carry the basket, constantly admonishing him, “It’s all over. My condolences, Taoist Master Yan.”

After trying to persuade him for the umpteenth time, he heard the sound of rollers on the stone slabs in the distance. He didn’t know who was leaving early, but as he got closer, he realized it was the Master Cang Hong and his group.

There were seven or eight of them, some carrying luggage, others dragging rolling suitcases. Come to think of it, the Taoist matter was already settled, so there was no point in staying any longer. They’d gotten up so early, perhaps intentionally trying to avoid Si Teng’s group? It was just a coincidence that they’d run into them.

After all that had happened, Qin Fang didn’t really have a good impression of the Taoist sect. He stepped aside, making way, and after Temple Abbot Cang Hong and the others had passed, he gestured for Yan Furui to continue.

They’d only taken a few steps when a voice called out from behind, “Mr. Qin… Qin Fang!”

Looking back, it was Wang Qiankun, the disciple of Temple Abbot Cang Hong. He was panting from running, his Taoist bun tilted like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. He came closer, supporting himself with his hands on his waist, and took a long moment to speak.

“My Grand Master asked you to pass on a message to Miss Si Teng. First, to thank her for her kindness. Second, Miss Si Teng…”

Here, he suddenly became cautious, looking around him warily, his voice dropping an octave. “Second, there’s Chen Yindeng’s husband, Yangbo. Miss Si Teng, beware of him. He’s acting strangely. Yesterday, my Grand Master casually asked how Miss Chen was doing, and he said she was fine. This morning, when we were packing, we saw Yangbo leave early… In short, Miss Si Teng, be careful…”

After saying this, he hurried off to chase after Abbot Cang Hong of Baiyun Temple, running back and forth. It was only after arriving at the Miao village that Qin Fang learned that Chen Yindeng was married, but he had never met Yangbo and had little impression of him. Wang Qiankun’s message reminded him that there must indeed be such a person.

Originally, he and Si Teng had both assumed that Chen Yindeng had hidden her secrets in Magu Cave and that Yangbo must have been among the victims. But according to Wang Qiankun, if Yangbo’s behavior was so perverse, then even if he wasn’t an accomplice, he was at least an insider…

Qin Fang’s heart tightened: Si Teng needed to know this immediately. Also, Si Teng wasn’t feeling well and was alone in the inn. What if Yangbo went looking for her…

The more he thought about it, the more panicked he became. He quickly stuffed the basket back into Yan Furui’s hands. “You go ahead. I need to go back.”

He didn’t bother explaining to Yan Furui and ran back. The morning mist rose from the wooden house and fell back onto the bluestone slabs, soaking the stones. He remembered that there were several forks in the road to get back, and he didn’t know which one to turn into. His mind was spinning. Then, suddenly, there was a gust of wind, and something hit him hard on the back of the head…

Qin Fang fell with a thud. His head felt splitting, and a warm liquid ran down the back of his head and neck. He struggled to open his eyes and dazedly saw a tall man dressed in local attire approaching, grabbing him by the collar, and dragging him out…

***

With a splash, a bucket of cold water poured over his head. Qin Fang shivered, then suddenly regained consciousness. He looked around. He was in a house somewhere. The windows were papered shut. A pear-shaped tungsten light lit the room, making it impossible to tell whether it was day or night. His hands and feet were tied. He must have been searched beforehand, because aside from the clothes he was wearing, everything else had been removed and thrown aside: his phone, wallet, keys, and Si Teng’s hair, wrapped in a handkerchief.

A man squatted before him, his features handsome and honest, but if they stared for too long, a flicker of resentment would suddenly flicker across his eyes.

Qin Fang knew who he was.

He struggled to sit up, using his bound hands to support himself, then leaned against the wall. “Yangbo, right?”

He had previously assumed Yangbo was going after Si Teng, but he hadn’t expected his target to be him.

Qin Fang breathed a sigh of relief, then felt the situation was absurd. He asked, “Why did you capture me? To threaten Si Teng? If you’d met her, you’d know she’s intimidated by no one. Even if you hacked me to death in front of her, it wouldn’t work.”

Yangbo interrupted him coldly, “You killed Ah’Yin.”

At this point, there was no time for tact. Qin Fang admitted, “Yes, but Chen Yindeng isn’t human. She’s a monster. Do you understand monsters? She even killed children as young as seven or eight!”

Yangbo stared at Qin Fang, his eyes nearly blazing with fire. Only one thought ran through his mind: Liar! Liar!

***

At midnight, in the bottom right drawer of the cupboard, Chen Yindeng left him a letter and an exquisitely crafted silver jewelry box. He recognized the jewelry box; it was the one he had made by chiseling—chiseling for two nights when they were in love. It was no exaggeration to call it a token of love.

The first sentence of the letter was. “Yangbo, by the time you read this, I will have been murdered.”

Reading these words, it was like a sudden thunderclap in his mind. A rumble, a flash of lightning, a crackle, and then a torrential downpour, drenching him in cold.

She recalled with emotion the anxiety of their first love, the sweetness of their passionate love, and the intimacy of their marriage. She said there was only one thing she had hidden from him in her life: that she was a monster.

The letter was stained with tears. Ah’Yin must have cried as she wrote.

Yangbo’s eyes were red. Ethnic minorities had a natural reverence for demons and strange phenomena, and they didn’t have as many taboos as the Han people. He couldn’t quite define what a demon was. According to their legends, their ancestor, Meibang Meiliu (Butterfly Mother), was born from a maple tree stem and a maple tree heart. Meibang Meiliu, in turn, gave birth to Jiang Yang, the distant ancestor of the Miao people. Ah’Yin, like her, was a spirit from the mountains. How could she be called a demon? Even if she was, what was wrong with that? Ah’Yin had been so kind and gentle to him; how could she harm anyone?

Ah’Yin was right. After she died, these people would do everything they could to smear her.

Yangbo was furious. “I forbid you to insult Ah’Yin. She’s my wife!”

Qin Fang was at a loss for words. “Yangbo, wake up! What wife? Chen Yindeng is neither male nor female. Those stories about her giving birth and her mother dying in childbirth were all lies! I have no reason to lie to you. If you don’t mind, I can take you to see Si Teng. You’ll understand everything.”

Oh, yes, Si Teng. Ah’Yin mentioned that name in her letter, telling him, “Don’t ever go see that Si Teng.”

Yangbo laughed. “I don’t want to see any Si Teng. I just want to save Ah’Yin. Ah’Yin said, just find you.”

What did he mean, just find him? Was he the Immortal Ganoderma of the Southern Pole Immortal? Could he even bring Chen Yindeng back to life?

Yangbo’s gaze suddenly grew strange, and his voice dropped. “Ah’Yin mentioned that your Miss Si Teng died back then. How did she come back to life?”

How did she come back to life? Qin Fang’s mind flashed through everything that had happened at the bottom of Nangqian Cliff like a montage. He forced himself to calm down. “I’m not a monster. How would I know how Miss Si Teng was resurrected? Miss Si Teng is over a hundred years old. If you want to revive Chen Yindeng the same way, just ask Miss Si Teng.”

This answer seemed to be something Yangbo had expected. He said, “Ah’Yin said that besides Si Teng, you’re the most likely to know this secret. She also guessed you wouldn’t share it so easily.”

He laughed heartily, pulled out an intricately shaped silver jewelry box from behind him, and slowly opened the lid.

A strange smell filled the room. When Yangbo looked up again, his eyes glowed an eerie red. He held the small box and walked towards Qin Fang, showing him the inside.

It was a small Amanita muscaria plant. If you looked closely, you could see it split in half.

Yangbo picked up half a plant and chewed it, speaking incoherently. “Of course you won’t tell the truth, but you can’t lie about what’s in your mind. Ah’Yin said, if we each eat half, I can see your secret…”

He took the other half and stuffed it into Qin Fang’s mouth. Qin Fang clenched his teeth tightly, not letting go. This back and forth made Yangbo furious. He suddenly punched him hard on the jaw, taking advantage of the pain to force the mushroom in. Qin Fang tried to grit his teeth again, but the mushroom suddenly drilled in as if alive, instantly transforming into a fishy hot stream.

Qin Fang choked and retched, curling up to try to spit out the foreign object. Suddenly, his mind ached, and then everything went blank.

Qin Fang reminded himself: Don’t think about it; absolutely don’t think about it…

It was no use. The faint sound of turning pages suddenly rustled like the wind, and then the scene suddenly went dark.

Qin Fang watched as his car, like a toy, plummeted from the cliff against the deep blue night sky…

—On the grave mound near the valley floor, a spike stood tall, two others barely visible…

—The spike instantly pierced his chest…

—The car was lifted up by the immense force, and Si Teng rolled over and sat up in the gaping grave mound…

—Si Teng sneered, “Don’t you understand? The spike pierced both my heart and yours. Your blood, along the spike, dripped drop by drop into the wound in my heart…”

—I might be the only resurrected monster…

…

The scene faded, the noise slowly died down, and they were back in their little hut. Qin Fang’s body convulsed violently, black venom oozing from the corners of his mouth. Yangbo laughed beside him, seemingly insane. He no longer cared about Qin Fang, bursting out the door with a bang, shouting, “Ah’Yin, I get it! Wait for me! I’m coming to save you!”

A mountain breeze blew into the room. There were no sounds of people, as was customary in the Miao village. What unknown mountain had Yangbo taken him to? Qin Fang struggled to the door, clinging to the threshold and raising his head with difficulty.

It was halfway up the mountain. This was probably a hut where locals would rest while hunting. At the foot of the mountain lay a road carved into the ground. In the distance, the corners of the Miao village’s houses loomed. Yangbo ran frantically along the lower mountain path, then onto the road. He was about to turn the bend…

A car suddenly appeared from the side, about to knock Yangbo away. Perhaps in a moment of urgency, the driver swerved, and the car crashed headfirst into the rocks, sending shattered rocks plummeting down.

A huge rumble echoed through the valley. Yangbo seemed stunned for a moment, but then he broke into a run again, shouting, “Ah’Yin, wait for me…”