Volume Two: The Secret Burial in the Gorge Chapter 115: A Night Encounter with the Mountain Spirit

Old Tantou glanced at me, seeing my spineless demeanor, and remarked, "What is there to fear about human skin? The skin on your own body is with you day and night, yet I don't see you afraid of that."

I pulled a long face. "Master Tan, is that really the same thing?"

Old Tantou waved his hand dismissively. "Enough. Take the lantern and follow me. Whether or not your companion can be saved depends on fate."

Carrying the Bone-Seeking Lantern, we walked out of the courtyard one after the other. It seemed that the mist in the village had appeared in tandem with the emergence of those cliff-burial spirits, for as soon as we stepped out, I noticed the fog that had blanketed the entire village had vanished. However, the sky remained overcast, and visibility was still poor.

I noticed that Old Tantou’s house stood quite isolated. It was a long distance from most of the houses in the village, as if it existed apart from Nanliu Village.

I asked Old Tantou, who was trudging ahead, "Master Tan, why isn't your house with the others?"

Old Tantou sneered. "If it were you, would you want to live next door to an old man who spends his days picking through bones?"

I shook my head, thinking that was certainly a valid point.

Old Tantou’s house was at the very edge of Nanliu Village. He led me out of the village quickly and onto a mountain path. Recalling the stone tablet I had seen in the mist, I asked him, "Master Tan, is this village called Nanliu Village?"

"That’s right."

"Then... do you know of a place called Nanliu Village?"

Old Tantou was walking in front, but upon hearing the name "Nanliu," he came to an abrupt halt. I was following close behind and nearly collided with him. I stopped as well, asking in confusion, "Master Tan, what’s wrong?"

Old Tantou shook his head. "Nothing. I’ve never heard of any Nanliu Village. There is only Nanliu Village. You must have misheard."

With that, he said no more and continued walking, lantern in hand. I stared at his back, my doubts growing. His body had visibly reacted when I mentioned the name, indicating he knew of the place, yet he had immediately lied about it. Why was he so deliberately evasive about Nanliu Village?

Seeing him pulling away, I hurried to catch up. I decided to focus on the task at hand; the questions surrounding Nanliu Village were piling up, and given my current situation and limited abilities, I was in no position to solve them.

We continued along a mountain trail, and after several turns, we gradually entered the depths of the mountain. Knowing that a cliff burial required ascending to the summit, I was not surprised by the climb, though I did not know if this was the legendary Mount Niuyang.

Inside the mountain, the vegetation was thick and overgrown. The moonlight was partially obscured by the foliage, making the path underfoot even darker. The Bone-Seeking Lantern we carried was barely better than nothing; I stumbled and tripped several times because I could not see the road.

I secretly pulled out a flashlight and turned it on. To my surprise, Old Tantou noticed the beam, turned around, and barked sharply, "Who told you to turn on a flashlight? Turn it off!"

His face was contorted with terror, as if he were ready to devour me. I was startled and quickly extinguished the light, failing to understand why he was so sensitive.

Old Tantou persisted, "If you don't follow instructions and act recklessly again, you'll get us both killed, do you understand?"

"I'm sorry," I said quickly. "It won't happen again. I'll listen to you."

Still looking tense, he grabbed me and pulled me into the nearby brush. He signaled for me to cover my head with the red robe I was wearing. I obeyed, crouching in the grass and peering out through a small gap.

Within moments, I heard heavy footsteps echoing from the path we had just been on. The sound was distinct and heavy, standing out sharply in the silence of the mountains. Old Tantou remained expressionless, his eyes fixed on the end of the path.

Who was coming? Why was Old Tantou so nervous? His anxiety infected me, and I crouched there, head covered, not daring to draw a full breath.

Before long, as the footsteps drew near, a white figure emerged from the end of the path. It moved with incredible speed, reaching the spot where I had turned on my flashlight in a few strides before coming to a stop. My angle was poor, and I could only see its back. The figure was short—less than five feet tall—and wore a snow-white robe that glared brightly in the night.

Suddenly, the figure lifted its head and let out a roar toward the sky. It wasn't loud, but it was shrill, making my skin crawl.

At that moment, Old Tantou pressed down on me, then slipped out of the brush himself. I knew he meant for me to stay put, so I remained hidden.

Old Tantou sprang onto the path. The figure in the white robe spun around, staring at him. Old Tantou reached behind him, grabbed a flag, and shook it vigorously, shouting, "Mountain stone, water and earth, seeking corpses, picking bones. The dead borrow the path, the living have no road. Serving the gods and performing rites, let no others obstruct..."

Old Tantou chanted a long string of words, the banner in his hand waving back and forth without a moment's pause. The figure stared at the flag for a full five or six minutes before finally letting out another howl, turning, and sprinting back the way it had come.

Old Tantou collapsed, his body sagging like overcooked noodles. "It's over," he said weakly. "Come out."

I scrambled from the brush and helped him up. "Master Tan, what was that? Was it a person?"

Old Tantou, sweating profusely, shook his head. "Not a person. It was a mountain ghost."

"A mountain ghost? What is that?" Though I had become a firm believer in the supernatural, the term still surprised me.

Old Tantou nodded. "A mountain ghost, also called a mountain demon. There are many legends about them; usually, they are the spirits one encounters in deep forests while traveling at night. Some say they are monsters transformed from wood, stone, birds, or beasts; others say they are the guardian beasts of the Mountain God. Some claim they prey on beautiful girls and children, while others say they are harmless pranksters—stealing oxen from the mountains or swapping the meals of field workers for stones. But based on our experience here, meeting a mountain ghost at night means someone is going to die."

"Such things exist?" I asked. "Is this mountain ghost an animal, or a spirit?"