Chapter Twenty-Three River Patrol

My neck was gripped tight, and after being attacked several times by the golden leopard frog, my body was badly injured and I couldn't move. I wanted to struggle free from the corpse's grasp with my curved blade, but found that my hand no longer had any strength.

The golden leopard frog emerged from the riverbed, one eye oozing pus, the other ablaze with fury. Its belly swelled, and it let out a deafening screech, leaping straight from the water, jaws wide, aiming to devour me from above.

I thought this was the end.

But just as the frog was about to lunge, it suddenly jerked, its huge body convulsing as if struck by lightning, then crashed back into the water with a splash, the waves pushing me several meters away.

Looking up, I saw that at some point a small yellow-and-white creature had perched on my shoulder, sticky liquid dripping from its mouth.

Had it just saved me?

Before I could react, the corpse no longer seemed to be under Fatty Zuo's spell. It started dragging me downward. Fatty Zuo cursed loudly, sprinted over the corpses as if flying, and kicked the head of the one clutching me askew, then yanked me up and, staggering wildly, dragged me toward the nearest rooftop still standing.

The corpses had all lost control, surging toward us like a tidal wave.

Fatty Zuo pulled me onto a rooftop, already exhausted and panting like a dog, tongue lolling.

At this moment, the stunned golden leopard frog recovered, thrashing and roaring in the water, its single eye glaring as it prepared to leap at the roof where we stood.

"Fatty, you go first!" I struggled to stand, my voice weak.

"May the green hills not change, and the rivers flow forever—until we meet again!" Fatty Zuo clasped his hands to me in farewell and was about to run off, but stopped suddenly, turning back with a conflicted look on his face. "No, this isn't right. If I leave you like this, people will laugh at me for being unfaithful!"

I wanted to retort that instead of wasting time, he should save his own life so I could have my revenge.

The little yellow-and-white creature hopped down from me, spitting again and again toward the river.

But its spit seemed to have lost almost all its electric power; even the corpses only paused briefly before charging on undeterred, and the golden leopard frog, massive and relentless, seemed completely unfazed, bounding straight for us.

The feeling of waiting for death was unbearable.

I suddenly missed Sister Jiu more than anything, missed the sense of peace and warmth when she was near.

Suddenly, a bolt of lightning split the dark sky, a silver serpent flickering.

An eerie sound of suona pipes drifted over.

Through the haze, a strange and massive procession appeared, moving in a crowd.

It was like an ancient wedding parade: a suona band at the front, followed by porters carrying all manner of items—a large goose on a tray, a sieve of grain in the center, lavish dowries and red furnishings. In the middle, a bright red bridal sedan chair, carved with dragons and phoenixes, its carrying poles fashioned from giant fish bones. At the end, a group of heavily made-up, laughing children.

As the suona sounded, the golden leopard frog and the corpses grew tense. The corpses scattered in an instant, and the frog sank beneath the water.

The sky was pitch-black, the suona music painfully real, yet the strange procession seemed vague and insubstantial, appearing only when the lightning flashed. Most shocking of all, they walked calmly atop the river, as if it were solid ground, without any aid.

The Yellow River's surface grew eerily calm.

The suona wailed, its sobbing notes filled with grief and sorrow rather than the joy of a wedding. Was there truly an Old Grandfather of the Yellow River? Was this a funeral or a wedding?

I wondered if I was hallucinating, and glanced at Fatty Zuo.

He was so nervous he looked like an ostrich, pressed flat against the tiles, hands clamped over his nose and mouth, signaling to me with frightened eyes.

I understood—he wanted me to cover my nose and mouth like him.

But with the golden leopard frog and the corpses scattered for now, shouldn’t we be escaping? Was this procession more terrifying than the frog and the corpses?

I had no experience with supernatural things, so I chose to trust Fatty Zuo. I quickly covered my nose and mouth, pressing myself flat on the roof.

The wedding procession swayed forward, still blurry, like a phantom sketch drawn with faint lines. In the middle, someone kept sprinkling water into the air.

There was a tradition by the Yellow River: when a bride left her family, they would draw water from her home’s well and sprinkle it along the road, to remind her to remember her roots and her family, and also as a blessing for the groom’s family, wishing them prosperity and fortune.

As the procession drew closer, a bone-deep chill seeped into me. I dared not look up, holding my breath.

Fortunately, growing up by the Yellow River, I had strong lungs, or I would have suffocated.

The suona fell silent. I sensed the procession had stopped right in front of us.

I glanced sideways at Fatty Zuo, saw him drenched in sweat, body shuddering like he had a fever.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I risked a peek at the wedding party.

What I saw was both real and unreal, like faint shadows yet vivid in detail. They were less than ten meters away, all in ancient finery of the highest quality, the dowries lavish and exquisite, the whole scene as splendid as a princess's royal wedding, resplendent with every luxury.

"Someone, give him this."

A faint woman's voice drifted from inside the sedan, as if the bride was instructing her attendants.

The cold pressed closer and closer.

With a soft clatter, something appeared before me.

It was a strange whistle made of seashells, still carrying a faint trace of fragrance—a woman's scent.

A scent I knew intimately.

The moment it entered my nose, my scalp tingled, hairs standing on end, as if struck by lightning.

It was Sister Jiu's unique fragrance!

When I was a child, terrified of Ping’s wife, she would hold me in her arms, and that scent would calm me, fill me with certainty.

I shot upright, staring at the dragon sedan chair.

I saw the curtain of the ornate sedan lifted at one corner.

Inside sat a woman, her head adorned with delicate ornaments, lightly made up, breathtakingly beautiful. Her face radiated gentleness, her eyes brimming with that heart-stirring warmth, looking at me with infinite affection.

My mind went utterly blank.

Sister Jiu!

It really was Sister Jiu!

She had grown up—not the thirteen- or fourteen-year-old girl I remembered, but a woman with a beauty that could topple kingdoms. Yet her eyes, soft as autumn water, were just as they had always been.

I was completely unmoored.

Why hadn’t she come to see me in all these years?

What had happened?

Why was she sitting in that bridal sedan?