Chapter 11: The Immaculate Woman
On the new moon night, after the sun had set in the west, there was no light to be seen beyond the surrounding torches.
The flickering flames formed a circle. Inside the circle, every inch was visible; outside, it was like a deep, inky abyss, as if some unknown giant shadow was slowly drifting nearby. Even the rustling of grass, the calls of birds, and the chirping of insects sounded as if they had emerged from the underworld.
The frosty wind was biting, chilling to the bone.
Xu Qi sat squeezed between several young women, her eyes darting restlessly, her agitation palpable.
The so-called ritual altar was nothing more than a simple offering table and a brazier—crude and laughable—but it held them all firmly within the circle of fire. No one dared to move carelessly.
Xu Qi had never believed in such superstitions, but being confined like this felt as torturous as being punished.
The ancient trees, pitch black in daylight, now stood like a wall separating the living world from the unreal, their endless canopy pressing down on her until she could barely breathe.
The old woman Chuang blew her ox horn, moving her limbs in a manner akin to being possessed, murmuring incantations:
“Three cuts on the yellow paper to shape the burial clothes, a stroke of cinnabar to ward off disaster—ashes draw the yin-yang circle, willow branches scatter the grudges. Departed souls, do not look back; the paper horse will carry you across the River of Forgetfulness...”
After reciting, she tossed a handful of powder into the brazier. A plume of blue smoke rose abruptly, startling everyone.
The corpse lay stretched before the offering table, still clad in bright red wedding attire, blurring the line between offerings of sacrificial meat and fresh human flesh.
Compared to the uneasy Xu Qi, the women flanking her appeared calm and devout. Some pressed their hands together in prayer, others knelt upright, as if the old woman truly possessed divine power, a direct link between the living and the dead.
Xu Qi sneered inwardly. Her gaze briefly flicked to a girl sitting cross-legged with eyes closed on her left—a girl no older than fourteen or fifteen, yet remarkably composed and mature, inspiring a strange sense of closeness.
Seizing the moment during the chanting, Xu Qi leaned in quietly and whispered, “If Miss A-Chun can truly escape suffering and ascend to bliss, wouldn’t that be wonderful? Do you think this ritual actually works?”
The girl’s eyes remained shut as she answered unexpectedly, “A-Chun has long reached bliss; whether this ritual happens or not makes no difference.”
Regardless of Buddhism or Taoism, those who take their own lives rarely find a good end. Yet the girl’s confident tone suggested she had witnessed it firsthand.
“Why do you say that?”
“You wouldn’t understand unless you’ve heard Grandfather Mountain’s teachings.”
“...I must be dull. What exactly does Grandfather Mountain say?”
“Not now,” the girl narrowed one eye, as if scolding her. “Grandfather Mountain’s teachings can only be heard after drinking the divine water. You’re an outsider. Without drinking it, you naturally receive no protection from Grandfather Mountain.”
This "divine water" was suspicious.
Drinking it allowed one to hear voices normally unheard—that was nothing but hallucination.
Xu Qi knew this perfectly but chose not to expose it, feigning innocence as she nodded and pressed on, “Did the older sisters who ascended to bliss before also drink the divine water and perform such rituals?”
“No rituals, but we all drank the divine water,” the girl answered with a hint of pride. “We often go to Granny Chuang to present our offerings. If we do well, Granny Chuang will ask Grandfather Mountain to grant us the divine water.”
“Is it only for girls? Can others in the village who pay respects also drink it?”
The girl’s eyes snapped open, as though hearing the most absurd question imaginable. “Of course not! Only pure girls deserve Grandfather Mountain’s care!”
Then, casting a peculiar look over Xu Qi, she added bitterly, “You serve that official. Are you a maid? If you’re not pure, drinking it is useless—it will only anger Grandfather Mountain.”
Ha?
Xu Qi’s face flushed, partly from shame, mostly from anger!
Had she been mistaken? She had even felt close to this girl? What a fool! Such vile slander could fall so easily from such a young mouth?
She wanted to jump up and storm away, but thinking that if Granny Chuang truly held clues to Zhiwei’s whereabouts, leaving now would ruin everything. She bit her thigh to endure the humiliation and forced herself to stay still.
“...I’m not a maid,” she forced a smile. “If pure girls can drink, have other outsiders ever come to worship Grandfather Mountain?”
“I’ve never seen any. You’re the first. Not everyone is so lucky. You must have accumulated great virtue in your past life.”
Huh? So maybe Zhiwei had never come here?
Puzzled, Xu Qi looked up. Granny Chuang had finished her chant and now boiled clear water over the fire.
The girl fell silent again, closing her eyes and folding her hands in prayer.
Unable to glean any more, Xu Qi focused intently on every movement above—Granny Chuang drew a small knife from her sleeve, turned toward the ancient tree, and apparently cut off a piece of bark, murmuring softly as she carefully placed it into the cauldron.
Soon, a creamy sweet fragrance spread, puzzling Xu Qi.
Granny Chuang dipped a peach branch into the boiling “divine water” and gently dabbed it on A-Chun’s corpse, lightly whipping it a few times. The rest she poured into bowls, having the girls line up to receive them.
Xu Qi, sensing danger yet driven by curiosity, edged closer within the line. Taking a clay bowl, she glanced down, surprised—
The bark tossed in was dark and rough, but the resulting water was milky white, with a scent like warm, nourishing goat’s milk. She swore she saw Granny Chuang originally boil clear, colorless water.
Perhaps sensing Xu Qi’s brief surprise, Granny Chuang smiled, “Divine water is truly miraculous. You may not believe in it, but you cannot pretend it doesn’t exist. Even today’s encounter is fate. Drink, child. It will dispel misfortune and turn calamity into blessing.”
Usually, Xu Qi would have thrown the strange concoction in her face the next moment.
But today was different. Granny Chuang’s gentle, warm voice and the comforting fragrance seemed to cut through all darkness, bringing to mind her late mother. For a fleeting moment, she felt willing to listen, to obey.
Raising the bowl to her lips—“Don’t drink! You must not drink! No one is allowed to drink!”—
Suddenly, behind her, there was a crashing sound of something breaking!
Xu Qi froze and turned to see a woman leaping into the fire circle, wild and frantic, like a charging boar. She overturned several girls’ bowls, scattering shards and murky liquid like thunder exploding!
Looking more closely at the frantic, gaunt figure, Xu Qi was stunned: wasn’t this the woman who had blocked the bridal procession by day? Earlier, when they were distracted, she had slipped away, but now she had come back on her own.
“You—” Xu Qi wanted to grab her, but someone was faster!
The girls who moments before held their bowls with blank or devout expressions suddenly erupted like ignited gunpowder. Their eyes blazed with fanatic fury as they surrounded the madwoman tightly, sealing her off with no escape.
They tore, scratched, bit, fists raining down like hailstones!
“Crazy witch! You’ve disrespected Grandfather Mountain! You deserve to die! To die!” “Beat her to death! Kill this blasphemer!” “Yes! Beat her to death!” “Gui Niang, once or twice was enough! We’ve tolerated you long enough! How dare you cause chaos before Grandfather Mountain!”
The firelight flickered violently, casting their frenzied forms into grotesque shapes, their wild dance resembling both celebration and hell itself.
Halfway up the mountain stood a small shrine draped with divine banners. The symbols on the banners were neither Buddhist nor Taoist.
Outside the shrine, Tan Jiuding sneered, looking down through the night with unwavering gaze fixed upon them.