Chapter Eight: Black Nosebleed

Third Uncle and Uncle Duan raised their homemade muskets, aiming straight at our heads.

Tong Tianwang was shocked and shouted, “Don’t do anything rash! Don’t! At least let us see what’s going on.”

The old village chief collapsed to the ground, his voice trembling, “It’s all my fault. I trusted you brats, and ended up harming Changgeng... Third Brother, what are you waiting for? Shoot!”

But Third Uncle and Uncle Duan were simple country folk; killing pigs or hunting was one thing, but gunning down the three of us—well, they didn’t have the courage for that. Their hands, gripping the muskets, were shaking uncontrollably.

Seeing this, Tong Tianwang hurriedly said, “Old Chief, the Elixir of Heaven and Earth is a treasure rarely found in the world, capable of reviving the dead. The ingredients alone could buy every acre in these ten villages—there’s no way it would harm Changgeng!”

Meanwhile, Sister Jiu had rushed to the bedside, repeatedly thumping Uncle Changgeng’s chest.

The old chief’s wife grabbed a broom and swung it fiercely at Sister Jiu.

Sister Jiu cried out but didn’t try to dodge. The broom, woven from bamboo, left thin bloody welts on her pale, slender arm. Seeing her hurt, fury surged in me. I dashed forward and sank my teeth into the old chief’s wife. She yelped in pain and slapped me hard, sending me sprawling to the ground, blood streaming from my nose.

The old chief’s wife had gone mad and tried to hit me again.

Sister Jiu pulled me protectively into her arms and, with a gentle push, sent the woman tumbling to the floor, unable to move.

Now everyone was enraged. They dared not fire, but they hurled the muskets at us in anger.

“Mother... I’m alive!”

Uncle Changgeng suddenly groaned out the words.

Everyone in the room froze, weapons forgotten, all eyes turning to Uncle Changgeng.

He looked like he’d journeyed to the very gates of death—frail and weak—but he could move now, struggling to raise his hand, pointing to the blue-and-white porcelain bowl nearby: “Water... give me water... I’m thirsty...”

The old chief’s face lit up with joy. He quickly filled a bowl with fresh water and brought it to the bedside. Uncle Changgeng’s trembling hands clutched the bowl, and he gulped the water down in great swallows. When he finished, he wiped his mouth and said, “Another bowl.”

After years bedridden, never moving an inch, Uncle Changgeng could now sit up and drink water by himself. This sight left everyone stunned.

The effect of the Elixir of Heaven and Earth left an indelible impression on my young heart—an awe I had never known.

Tong Tianwang couldn’t hold back and cursed, “You ingrates! Changgeng came back to life, and you wanted to kill his saviors? Have you no shame?”

The old chief’s family looked embarrassed, but the joy of Changgeng’s recovery washed everything else away. All their attention was now on their son, who’d been confined to bed for years, anxiously questioning him about his health.

Sister Jiu pulled me up and turned to Tong Tianwang, “Let’s go!”

The three of us left the house, and Third Uncle and Uncle Duan, dazed, didn’t stop us.

Back home, Sister Jiu told me to bathe at once, saying blood still stained my nose and I looked a mess. As I was about to grab my clothes, she straightened me up, staring intently and frowning, “Why is your nosebleed black?”

My nosebleed was black?

I shook my head, not knowing.

Tong Tianwang came over for a look, after a moment suggesting maybe the blood had scabbed and turned black.

Sister Jiu disagreed. She said it was black to begin with.

Tong Tianwang said, “That’s easy to check,” and slapped me across the face.

Caught off guard, my cheek burned and stars danced before my eyes. Blood gushed from my nostrils. Anger flared up inside me and I leapt at him, ready to scratch.

Tong Tianwang dodged, chuckling.

Sister Jiu scolded him and pulled me back. She wiped a bit of the blood with her finger. I saw it too—it was indeed black, sticky, and crawling with tiny worms. Disgusting beyond words.

All my anger at Tong Tianwang vanished, replaced with dread.

Sister Jiu asked, “Xiao Pi, has anything bitten you lately?”

I thought for a moment and said that the night after the black shadow left, a strange bug crawled into my nose.

She asked if I’d seen what it looked like.

I said I hadn’t, then added, “When Ping’s wife grabbed me, she said I’d been cursed with a Gu worm. Sis, what’s a Gu worm?”

At this, Sister Jiu’s face went deathly pale. She asked over and over exactly what Ping’s wife had said. I replied that was all she had said.

Tong Tianwang muttered, “Could that black shadow have been Ping’s wife?”

Sister Jiu shook her head, “She doesn’t have that kind of power. What worries me is that thing... Once I’m done here, I have to return to the Gu Masters’ Guild and ask.” She produced a small porcelain bottle, took out a few black pills, and told me to swallow them.

I did, and, sensing she was hiding something, asked if I was going to die.

She stroked my head with a look of sorrow. “Don’t worry. As long as I’m here, you’ll be fine.”

She was definitely keeping things from me. The Gu curse must be something terrible, but I had no clue what it was. Since I felt nothing unusual, I soon forgot about it and went to bathe.

When I came out, I found visitors in the house.

The old chief had come, arms full of gifts, to thank Sister Jiu.

Tong Tianwang mocked him, “Those piles of junk aren’t worth a single ingredient from the Elixir, yet you dared incite the villagers to kill us.”

But the old chief, overjoyed at Changgeng’s recovery, ignored the taunts and showered Sister Jiu with gratitude.

She said she didn’t need the gifts, but wanted to ask something.

He nodded meekly.

She asked when the Mingda family had arrived in the village.

The old chief hesitated, then explained. The Mingdas, like us, were outsiders, but had moved in more recently—about twenty years ago. They lived much like everyone else, making a living brewing liquor. After Xie Dibiang’s incident, Ping’s wife suddenly went mad. Then they invited someone to exorcise evil—a man named Yellow-Eyed Rake.

Yellow-Eyed Rake claimed to be a Taoist priest and wandered the village for days, telling everyone that Xie Dibiang had hidden in the village for years to steal the treasures of Grandfather Yellow River at Wax Road Pass. Recently, he’d angered Grandfather Yellow River, who possessed Ping’s wife, and the village was in grave danger.

Sure enough, soon after, Ping’s wife lost her child, then Junjun died.

Yellow-Eyed Rake then told the villagers that only by sinking the Xie family child in the Yellow River could Grandfather Yellow River be appeased. So he led the villagers to come after us. But strangely, after that night, the entire Mingda family and Yellow-Eyed Rake vanished. “Miss Jiu, do you know where they might have gone?”

It seemed the old chief knew nothing about what happened at Wax Road Pass.

Tong Tianwang was about to speak, but Sister Jiu shot him a glare and he held his tongue.

Sister Jiu said gravely, “Yellow-Eyed Rake was a fraud. Everything about Grandfather Yellow River was made up. The Mingda family probably ran off in fear.”

The old chief looked uneasy, asking nervously, “How did Xiao Pi and Uncle Tong climb out of the river? The villagers say you three might be demons.”

I shot back, “You’re the demon, old monster!”

Sister Jiu said, “I saved them.”

The old chief believed completely in her abilities, blamed himself a few times, and then his face filled with worry. “But Ping’s wife is still at large. Will more people die?”

Sister Jiu replied, “She’s just a madwoman. I saw her fall into the river and drown. She won’t be coming back.”

But I knew Sister Jiu was lying.

She hadn’t told the chief that Yellow-Eyed Rake and Uncle Mingda’s family were in league together, or that Uncle Mingda had saved me and Tong Tianwang to harm Yellow-Eyed Rake. Nor did she mention that Ping’s wife had only been struck by Sister Jiu’s whip and had escaped alive.

After a few more words, the old chief took his leave.

When he was gone, I asked, “Sis, Ping’s wife is still out there. What if someone else dies?”

Tong Tianwang rapped me on the head, “She’s been struck by Sister Jiu’s whip. She won’t be able to harm anyone for a decade or more. What do you know!”

That night, Sister Jiu held me as I slept. Breathing in the sweet scent on her body and knowing Ping’s wife would not return, I slept soundly for the first time in ages.

In the middle of the night, I woke to find Sister Jiu sitting at the bedside, lost in thought. She wasn’t using her turtle breath technique to sleep, and seemed to be wiping away tears. Half-asleep, I asked what was wrong. She looked flustered and said it was nothing.

For days after, Sister Jiu left early each morning to wander by the Yellow River, forbidding me and Tong Tianwang from following. She’d return at dusk, clothes soaked and reeking of river mud, utterly exhausted.

I felt certain something big was about to happen in the village.

Because the masked shadow’s identity and intentions were still a mystery, but, to my surprise, everything stayed calm. The old chief made an official announcement, blaming all the troubles on the madwoman Ping’s wife.

Aside from Junjun’s parents glaring daggers at me, no one else treated me differently.

After all, I was just a pitiable orphan who had lost his family.

I asked Tong Tianwang about my grandfather, my parents, and Sister Jiu, but for some reason, the usually loose-tongued man refused to say a word.

But then, I suddenly fell ill—so ill it felt like I was dying.

And the worst part was, the evening I fell sick, Sister Jiu didn’t come home.