Chapter 253: Peach Blossom Village

Since Feng Jiu had fallen silent, Li Yanchu was concerned. He moved to her side, looping one arm securely around her waist. The rope, now bearing the weight of a grown man and a young girl, remained as sturdy as ever.

With Li Yanchu’s mastery of

qinggong

, even the extra heft of the wolf-tooth club added no burden. He could walk without leaving traces in the snow, as his control over his own weight was that precise.

Feng Jiu’s cheeks flushed red, though she didn’t resist. With one hand gripping the rope and the other holding Feng Jiu close, Li Yanchu continued his rapid descent.

The rift’s depths were pitch black, almost entirely devoid of light, a darkness that could make anyone’s heart quail. It felt as though, at any moment, a cold, lifeless face might suddenly hang down before them.

Li Yanchu didn’t reveal his presence, instead continuing to use the Sun Veil to block the threads of fate. This Daoist technique was extraordinarily potent, and those without a deep karmic tie to him might even completely forget Li Yanchu had ever existed.

After the two of them reached the valley floor without incident, Li Yanchu pulled a torch from his robe, and he lit it on the spot.

Feng Jiu thought speechlessly,

You can just pull a torch out of your robes like that!?

“Master, you really came prepared!”

Li Yanchu said in a slow, faint tone, “I learned this from a friend of mine. When we went tomb-raiding together, he’d have black donkey hooves, rations, and even a Luoyang shovel all ready. He’s very professional.”

He was a little professional, but not

that

professional.

Feng Jiu blinked. “So that’s the friend you went to find after leaving seclusion this time?”

Li Yanchu gave a slight nod. “Yes. He often told me that brothers should stand by each other. So if something’s happened to him this time, I’ll wipe out the entire Shaman Sect in blood.”

There was nothing vicious in his expression. Yet, in the calmness of his face, Feng Jiu felt a chill that cut to the bone.

After a long silence, Feng Jiu said quietly, “Master, I didn’t lie to you. This place really is where I planted the rumor. If the Shaman Sect captured your friend and came searching for the Myriad Phenomena Heavenly Palace, this is a place they’d have to pass through.”

Li Yanchu smiled. “Good.”

The two followed the rift deeper. The ground and stone walls around them were dry as bone, and like the rest of the Thousand Corpses Ridge, they were steeped in death and utterly devoid of life.

After walking for about five or six li, they came upon a massive stone cavern in the side of the cliff wall. It appeared to have been gouged open by some overwhelming force, neither carved by blade nor axe, nor born of nature’s hand.

The two exchanged a glance.

“The Fei you spoke of, is it inside here?”

“I’m not sure. But it should definitely be somewhere down at the bottom of this rift.”

“Let’s go.”

Li Yanchu entered the cavern first, torch in hand. Feng Jiu followed behind him, holding a torch of her own.

Their Daoist robes were identical, except that Feng Jiu’s was Li Yanchu’s own, which was far too large for her, so it swayed loosely around her frame.

Still... The two of them looked surprisingly in sync. If you ignored the massive wolf-tooth club in Feng Jiu’s hands, that is.

This fake master-and-disciple pair looked nothing like Daoists, more like a wandering outlaw and a battlefield warrior. After all, one was carrying a saber, while the other was hefting a spiked club

Li Yanchu had thought that upon entering, they’d encounter some sort of danger, and at the very least, a chance to earn some merit. But aside from the cold, prickling sensation Feng Jiu had mentioned, as if someone were staring at their backs, nothing had happened at all.

It was

too

quiet. In the depths of the rift, not a single sound could be heard. The silence was enough to make one’s heart race.

Feng Jiu tightened her grip on her wolf-tooth club, eyes wary, as though she’d swing it at the slightest movement.

The torchlight flickered across their faces, casting them in alternating light and shadow.

Finally, after passing through a narrow, elongated passage, the space before them suddenly opened up, and light filled their vision. Before them stretched an incredibly vast space.

Looking closely, they realized that they had actually walked out from beneath the Thousand Corpses Ridge of Mount Hengduan... and into a simple, rustic village, where thin columns of cooking smoke curled lazily into the air.

At the village entrance, a few sturdy men sat gambling together, shouting and laughing with their faces flushed with excitement. A young shepherd led a large water buffalo past with a book cradled in his hands, yet his eyes were glued to the gambling table and watched with keen interest.

The houses here looked quite new, all built in the architectural style of the Central Plains, nothing like the structures found in the northern provinces.

A fisherman, bare-legged and carrying two fresh fish, came walking toward them.

Li Yanchu stepped forward and asked, “Excuse me, elder, but what place is this?”

The fisherman glanced at the two of them, his gaze lingering first on the wolf-tooth club in Feng Jiu’s hands, then on the torches they were still carrying in broad daylight.

“Daoist Master, this place is Peach Blossom Village. May I ask where the two of you have come from?”

Feng Jiu’s delicate brows knit together. She couldn’t help but ask, “Peach Blossom Village belongs to which prefecture? And what dynasty is it now?”

The fisherman gave a baffled laugh.

“Little Daoist, you jest, how could you ask such nonsense?”

“Still, since you’ve asked, I’ll answer truthfully. Peach Blossom Village is part of Jianzhou. As for this ‘prefecture’ you speak of, I’ve never heard of it.”

A weight settled in Li Yanchu’s chest, as he had a vague suspicion forming.

The fisherman continued, “As for the time, this is the tenth year of Jingqing in the Xia calendar. Anything else you wish to know, Daoist Master?”

Perhaps because of Feng Jiu’s pretty face, the fisherman didn’t take offense, and continued to look at her with some curiosity.

Li Yanchu and Feng Jiu exchanged glances, both startled.

The tenth year of Jingqing in the Xia calendar... that’s six hundred years in the past!

Shock rippled through Li Yanchu.

The situation during the Great Xia period was very complex, though it claimed to be the orthodox dynasty of the realm. It also had many different imperial era names[1].

But this Emperor Jingqing, Li Yanchu, was someone he heard of.

The fisherman, still all smiles, said warmly, “Since you’re guests here, please, both of you, come to my home. I’ll see to it you’re well treated!”

Feng Jiu’s eyes narrowed slightly. But Li Yanchu smiled gently. “Very well. Thank you for your kindness, elder.”

The fisherman’s smile was guileless as he led them toward his home.

The name “Peach Blossom Village” brought to Li Yanchu’s mind that famous

Record of the Peach Blossom Spring

.

Its description went,

“At first the passage was narrow, just enough for a person to pass through. After walking several dozen steps, it suddenly opened up into a wide expanse.”

In the story, the fisherman who stumbled into the Peach Blossom Spring was also invited into a villager’s home as a guest.

It was a literary classic passed down for generations, but from another perspective... It was the outline of a ghost story. That fisherman from Wuling may well have wandered into something like a ghost village. Fortunately, no one in later generations ever found the place again, because who knew what might be wrong with its inhabitants?

Li Yanchu and Feng Jiu were now facing precisely that situation.

One look was enough to tell that something was wrong here. At the very bottom of the Thousand Corpses Ridge’s abyss, there stood a village from the Great Xia period. It reeked of strangeness.

Li Yanchu quietly used his Qi Sight to sweep across the entire Peach Blossom Village. He found nothing amiss, and every person’s aura was no different from that of a living human.

“This kind of ghost village really is sinister.”

Li Yanchu thought of Longmen Village, deep in the forests outside Wei City. The entire place was full of corpses brought back to life, ghastly abominations that were nothing but trouble. Places like this, annoyingly enough, always seemed able to block the probing of the Qi Sight.

He and Feng Jiu followed the fisherman farther in, and before long, they met the fisherman’s wife. She was a plainly dressed woman, warm and hospitable in manner.

1. An imperial era name refers to the titles used by emperors in ancient China to designate years. The system began with Emperor Wu of the Han, replacing the earlier method of reckoning years by the reign length of individual monarchs. The establishment of era names marked a shift in China’s chronological system: from counting years based on a ruler’s reign to using era names, with each era name representing a relatively independent chronological cycle, often linked to the succession of emperors. ☜