The commotion in town had gradually subsided by the time Shen Xiu and Liu Qingyan returned to the main street. Several young men were still talking in low voices beside the fence. The blacksmith's apprentice stood at the doorway, still clutching a pair of tongs, his face frozen in lingering fright. The vendors had laid out their goods again. An old woman selling vegetables squatted behind a bamboo basket, straightening the greens that had been knocked askew. She looked up at Shen Xiu, her lips moving as though she wanted to say something, but in the end she merely nodded and lowered her head to continue her work.
Shen Xiu stood in the middle of the street for a while. Only after confirming that no strange aura came from the direction of the town entrance did he turn and walk toward the old elm tree. Liu Qingyan was already there, her cloth bag at her feet, listening intently to several elderly people gathered together in quiet conversation. An old man in a gray short jacket gestured as he spoke, saying that there had been movements in the woods behind the mountain over the past half month. At night, rustling sounds could be heard in the undergrowth. A few days ago, a yellow dog his family kept had run toward the hillside and never returned. He had searched at the foot of the mountain for half a day and found only a few strands of dog fur—not even a bone. Another elder agreed, saying that the woods were not large to begin with. Hunters used to be able to go in and catch a few wild rabbits, but lately, whenever they entered, they always felt as if something was watching them from the shadows—something impossible to explain.
After hearing them out,