The homes in the village had been cordoned off with warning tape. The sight of it all made my heart ache; after all, this was the place where I had grown up.
Martial Uncle and I took a turn around the village, then headed toward the back mountain.
When we arrived, I saw those holes again—the ones I had seen when I crawled out of the coffin that night. They still made my skin crawl.
Once bitten by a snake, one feared ropes for ten years. After steadying myself, I followed Martial Uncle as we walked and looked around.
Martial Uncle crouched down and grabbed a handful of dirt from each hole, then held it beneath his nose and sniffed it.
Then he said there was the stench of corpses. He was right—there had definitely been problematic corpses here.
I asked Martial Uncle whether they were the corpses of the villagers.
Martial Uncle said they were not just from the village. Some had been buried in the earth long ago.
It felt as though there were corpses from every dynasty, along with the dense Yin energy and ghostly energy surrounding us.
This place had gathered corpses, ghosts, and an overwhelming weight of resentment.
With worry written all over his face, Martial Uncle said, "Tonight may be troublesome."
After looking around for a while and finding nothing else, Martial Uncle said that it was daytime, when Yang energy was stronger.
We would return to the village for now and come back that night. Then we headed back.
When we reached my home—or rather, what had once been my home—it was just as dilapidated inside.
There was not even a place to sit. Martial Uncle and I found a relatively clean stone and sat down to rest.
I gathered some firewood nearby and lit a fire. Then Martial Uncle and I simply waited.
When we got hungry, we ate some dry rations and drank water. Martial Uncle seemed to have something on his mind and barely spoke.
Then night fell, and clumps of mist began to rise again.
Before long, the entire village was shrouded in a layer of white fog, exactly like when I had fled that day.
Martial Uncle said it was about time to head for the back mountain. I nodded and put out the fire.
Then I followed Martial Uncle out of my house. The moment we stepped outside, I heard those old sounds again.
Martial Uncle asked whether I was afraid. I said I was all right, since I had been through it once before.
I was mentally prepared this time, unlike last time, when I had been scared out of my wits.
As we walked, Martial Uncle said calmly, "Those things have come out."
The words had barely left his mouth when I saw former villagers staring at Martial Uncle and me from all directions with sinister expressions.
Some of those faces were familiar to me, while others I had never seen before.
Their clothing was different too, as though people from every dynasty were present.
I even saw someone in an official Qing Dynasty uniform, wearing a queue braid and a little melon-skin cap.
No, that was not right. They should have been ghosts. At this time, in a place like this, who else could there be besides Martial Uncle and me?
I had overestimated myself when I said I was not afraid. Seeing such a bizarre scene so suddenly—
I still trembled a little and edged closer to Martial Uncle.
I glanced at Martial Uncle. His face was calm and indifferent.
It was as though he did not take any of it to heart. There was even a trace of arrogance about him.
The contrast between us was simply too great. He stood there all cool and disdainful, while I was so terrified my balls hurt and my ass clenched tight.
Several minutes passed like that, but those ghostly things did not move.
They neither came closer nor retreated, merely watching us.
Martial Uncle cupped his fists and said to the surroundings:
"Fellow villagers of Lin'an Village, and all senior predecessors, my nephew and I have come here tonight.
"We wish to learn the truth of what happened in the village. We mean no harm, so I ask that you please make way."
After he finished speaking, those ghostly things still showed no intention of moving aside. Instead, after hearing Martial Uncle's words—
they began to stir restlessly, as though they were about to pounce.
Hiding behind Martial Uncle, I said, "Uncles, elders, fellow villagers, I'm A-Tong from the village. Could you please make things convenient and let us pass?"
It would have been better if I had kept my mouth shut. The moment I spoke, an angry voice rang out:
"We were all from the same village! Why didn't you die? Why did you get to live? Why?"
Then came a chaotic jumble of voices—curses, roars, resentment, sobbing...
All kinds of voices crashed over us. Then, one by one, they lunged at Martial Uncle and me like madmen. My lips went white.
Martial Uncle snorted. "You refuse the toast only to drink the forfeit."
After saying that, he raised his hand. In an instant, dense clusters of bamboo appeared all around us.
Each stalk looked as though it had been cut diagonally from top to bottom in a single slash, its ends sharpened to points.
Martial Uncle said, "Go." Then he swept his raised hand, and the bamboo shot out in all directions.
With sharp whooshing sounds, they fired indiscriminately at those ghostly things.
Their power was terrifying. Everything around us was pierced as easily as tofu.
Even thick walls could not stop the bamboo. Holes were left all across them.
Whether it was the objects around us or thick, sturdy trees, the bamboo passed through them with effortless ease.
At the same time, shrill, agonized screams rang out. In an instant, the area around Martial Uncle and me became a complete mess.
Broken walls and crumbling ruins lay everywhere, while dust filled the air.
When everything finally settled, those ghostly things had vanished.
Even the white fog from before had disappeared. Everything was quiet again.
I asked Martial Uncle where those things had gone. He said they had been scattered, their souls dispersed.
Then he looked at me seriously and said, "When dealing with filthy things that do not know what is good for them, you must be ruthless. You cannot fear them.
"The more you fear them, the more arrogant they become. Then they will come up and kill people, stealing their lives."
As soon as he finished speaking, the bamboo stalks that had shot out and embedded themselves in every direction—
turned into wisps of white smoke one after another and vanished without a trace.
I stared in utter astonishment, then asked Martial Uncle, "How did your bamboo disappear?"
Martial Uncle replied in an even tone, "That was an attack launched with Spiritual Energy combined with my own attribute. Once the attack ends, it disperses.
"Cultivate properly and you will be able to do it someday too. There is no need to be surprised."
I nodded, imagining that I would have a day like that too. For some reason, I felt happy, and the fright from earlier faded away with it.
Then we headed toward the back mountain. Since it was rather dark, I took two flashlights from my bag, gave one to Martial Uncle, and continued onward.
When we finally reached the back mountain, we saw several corpses swaying as they wandered aimlessly through that burial ground.
Perhaps they noticed our arrival, because the corpses turned their heads to look at us.
We stared at each other for a moment, then they made strange noises and charged at us.
I could not describe that sound. It seemed as though it was forced out by squeezing their vocal cords.
Martial Uncle glanced at me and said leisurely, "Go try it."
"Ah? You mean you want me to deal with them?"
Martial Uncle nodded. "Yes. These are all very low-level, and they are slow.
"If you are careful, nothing will happen. It is time to test the results of your cultivation. Besides, I am right beside you. What are you afraid of?"
Trembling, I nodded, then forced myself to walk over.
Those corpses had reached my side as well. One of them flailed its claws and grabbed at me.
At such close range, I saw its face crawling with maggots. As its body swayed, the maggots dropped off one after another.
I was disgusted beyond measure. I immediately gathered Spiritual Energy into my fist and punched the corpse in the chest.
With a muffled bang, the corpse flew backward two or three meters.
I was slightly startled. Then I drew back my fist and was about to strike another corpse.
The moment I pulled my fist back, the smell of a dead rat drilled into my nose as well.
Something felt wrong. Since it was dark, I raised my fist before my eyes and examined it carefully.