Chapter 463: The Street’s Mysterious Evil

Beneath the Huashi Bridge, by the banks of the Yangjiang River...

Several fishermen sat quietly on small wooden stools along the riverbank, wearing wide-brimmed bamboo hats. Their fishing rods extended over the water, with lines cast deep into the river, the floats rising and falling with the gentle waves.

Among them was a young girl dressed in a three-colored outfit, also wearing a bamboo hat to shield herself from the sun. She, too, sat on a tiny wooden stool, barely larger than a square brick, right at the water’s edge. In her hands, she held a small fishing rod, its thin line dipping into the river.

Her eyes were fixed intently on the water, her expression serious and unwavering, as if she could see straight through the deep, emerald waters to the fish swimming below.

Behind her, a Daoist priest sat with a book in his hands, quietly reading.

“You’ve become a fisherman now?” he mused.

“

Shh

...”

The little girl, as still and focused as a meditating monk, continued to stare at the water, her gaze as sharp as if she could pierce through its depths. Without turning her head, she murmured, “A fish is about to take the bait.”

The moment she finished speaking, the fishing line suddenly sank.

Without hesitation, she sprang to her feet and pulled up the rod.

“

Splash, splash, splash

...”

A streak of silver-white leaped out of the water, struggling desperately in midair.

Several elderly fishermen nearby turned their heads to watch.

The little girl remained composed, her face serious. Lifting the rod high with one hand, she reached out with the other and, with a swift movement, caught the fish in her palm, gripping it firmly.

With practiced ease, she unhooked the fish and tossed it into a nearby bucket.

“

Plop, plop, plop

...”

The blackfish flailed about in the bucket.

Inside, more than a dozen fish, large and small, were already wriggling and splashing.

Lady Calico glanced at the fishing hook and saw that the bait was still mostly intact. Without stopping, she lowered her head and swept her gaze across the river, locked onto a target, and swiftly cast her line again.

Her movements were fluid, smooth, and practiced.

“You caught another one, little Calico?” an elderly fisherman beside her called out, his voice laced with admiration.

“Yes!”

The young girl answered seriously, her eyes never straying from the water.

Yes, she had fishing companions now. But these companions often looked at her with a mixture of envy and self-doubt.

“Little Calico, is your spot just better, or what? You’ve only been here for a short while, and you’ve already caught so many fish. We've been sitting here for half a day! I mean, I’m lucky enough to have caught at least something, but Mr. Luo over there hasn’t even made his first catch yet.”

“Yes! My spot is better!” The little girl answered concisely, her tone crisp and direct. As she spoke, she turned her head slightly and shot a fleeting glance at her Daoist companion.

Her face remained expressionless, but the look in her eyes seemed to say, “

See? I’m amazing, aren’t I?”

Song You shook his head, saying nothing.

He wanted to call her out for cheating—using her abilities to locate fish unfairly—but then he thought about the fact that his food, clothes, and daily expenses all depended on her fishing and selling the catch. At that thought, he wisely shut his mouth.

To her, fishing seemed to have become a substitute for clam digging by the shore. Though the harvest wasn’t as bountiful, effortless, or varied as beachcombing, selling fish in Yangdu was more profitable than selling seafood along the coastal town of Langzhou. It still gave her the thrill of a good haul.

The longer she did it, the more fishing started to rival the excitement of clam digging, only second to catching rats at night. Because, well... rats could run. And that was way more fun.

“

Plop

...”

In just a short moment, the little girl had caught yet another big fish.

All around her, the fishermen—both young and old, from both this side of the river and the opposite bank—turned to look at her, their gazes filled with admiration and envy.

“

Splash, splash

...”

This fish had some real fight in it. It thrashed wildly, leaping straight out of the wooden bucket, nearly making its way back into the river.

Unfortunately for it, the cat was too quick.

With a casual swipe, Lady Calico snatched the fish right out of midair. No matter how slippery it was, it had no chance of escaping her grasp. Without a second thought, she smacked it against the ground to subdue it before tossing it back into the bucket.

“That should be enough.” The little girl looked down at the bucket, speaking in the tone of a responsible adult.

Without waiting for the Daoist priest’s response, she stood up, tilted her head back, and plucked a willow branch from the countless slender strands hanging down from above. Then, she carefully picked out a small crucian carp and a large blackfish, threading them onto the branch.

“These two are for us to eat today. There’s blackfish, which you like, and I only need a little fish to be satisfied.”

The fair-skinned girl held up the willow branch with the fish and handed it to the Daoist priest.

He reached out to take it, but for a brief moment, his vision blurred. A wave of déjà vu hit him.

Suddenly, it was the Beginning of Autumn in the first year of Mingde again.

He was back in a nameless village beneath Hand-Crawling Cliff in Yizhou, where he had once asked an old fisherman by the river for two fish. He had threaded them onto a willow branch, bringing them back to her.

“Daoist priest, why aren’t you moving?”

A soft, gentle voice pulled him back to the present.

The little girl in front of him was still the same, dressed in her three-colored robes. One hand held the willow branch with two small fish, while the other lifted the wooden bucket. Tilting her head, she looked at him with a puzzled expression, waiting for him to take the fish.

“It’s nothing...”

He finally reached out and took the branch, his voice calm—but his heart lingering in the past. The Daoist priest hooked his finger around the willow branch, lifting the fish with ease.

“I almost thought you had gone dumb.”

“Of course not. It’s not that easy to go dumb.”

“You go back and cook! I will go sell these fish to the restaurants first!” The little girl instructed him, pulling a key from her pocket and handing it over. She truly carried herself like a little adult.

“Should I accompany you, Lady Calico?”

“Go cook!”

“...I shall obey your divine decree...”

The Daoist priest shook his head again, a faint smile appearing on his lips. Stepping forward, he occasionally glanced down at the willow branch, where one large and one small fish were strung together.

Thinking back on it now, those two fish from before had truly been a bargain.

The little girl walked beside him, carrying the bucket, but she kept tilting her head to the side, staring at him with a puzzled expression.

They walked together until they reached the bridge, where they climbed the steps.

Then, the two parted ways.

The Daoist priest crossed the bridge, heading eastward toward home. The little girl turned west, toward the restaurants to sell her fish.

Upon reaching the top of the arched bridge, the Daoist priest finally noticed something—the missing stone brick from some time ago had been replaced.

This bridge had stood for countless years, weathered by wind and rain, its surface aged with time. Yet now, among the old and worn stones, there was a brand-new brick.

Not only that—there were words engraved on it.

It recorded an event from the end of the ninth year of Mingde, stating that the Jile God had transformed into a stone brick and hidden itself here, only to be slain by Daoist Wenpingzi, who had invited Duke of Thunder Zhou to strike it down. The replacement of the brick was also detailed—the date, the officials involved, everything was meticulously documented.

Who knew how many years this brick would last?

And who knew what future generations would think upon seeing it?

With that thought, the Daoist pondered the five Land Gods of Yangzhou. Among them, only the Anyi God in the South had met a peaceful end, having behaved dutifully. Xiangle God could be considered a partial exception.

The State Preceptor’s choices had been reasonable—only the monk responsible for the Anle God had completely and utterly failed, even losing his life in the process. The Ping’an God had been eradicated cleanly, while the Xiangle God and Anyi God had been spared, as the State Preceptor’s envoys exercised their granted authority based on their conduct.

As for the Jile God... before Song You arrived, its fate had been neither a success nor a failure—unfinished business.

“One must still do good, after all...”

The Daoist priest sighed inwardly, then lowered his head and stepped on the newly replaced stone brick. Raising his gaze once more, he stood atop the bridge, looking down at the world below.

Spring had already deepened.

The riverbanks were growing lush, plum blossoms and willows filling the landscape with vibrant green. The people’s clothing had become noticeably lighter, and life thrived in full force. Boats continued to drift across the river without end, while along the shore, a few fishermen had begun arguing over fishing spots.

“...” Song You shook his head and continued walking.

He entered a narrow alley, intending to return home, but before he could reach his door, he noticed a small crowd gathered outside.

Some people were glancing anxiously in both directions, while others paced restlessly, appearing agitated and impatient.

The moment they spotted Song You, someone called out.

“He’s back!”

“Quick, ask him!”

The group immediately surged toward him.

Each person in the crowd had a small medicinal plaster stuck to their faces—one on each temple, stretching from the corners of their eyes to their hairline. A strong herbal scent mixed with an odd, unpleasant odor drifted from them.

Their appearances were gaunt and sickly— faces sallow, cheeks sunken, eye sockets deep and hollow, looking like men who had been utterly drained by indulgence.

Though puzzled, Song You didn’t slow his steps. Carrying the two fish, he approached them and curiously questioned them.

“I’ll explain!”

A thin, frail-looking man dressed in blue stepped forward, bowed slightly, and spoke, “My humble name is Li Hexi. Greetings, sir.”

“Please, speak plainly.”

“Sir... Do you know magic?” Li Hexi asked bluntly.

“I know a little.”

“Oh? Are you capable of exorcising demons and driving out evil spirits?”

“Just get to the point.”

Li Hexi turned back, exchanging glances with the others before continuing in full detail, “I reside in the east of the city, not far from here. There are twelve members in my family.

“Some time ago, both my father and my second uncle suddenly began experiencing severe stomach pains. No matter what doctors they consulted or what medicines they took, nothing worked.

“When we questioned them, we discovered that this all started after they had attended a banquet outside the city and were returning home late at night. On their way back, they encountered a giant bird. The doctor at the pharmacy told us—this is not an illness. They have been cursed.

“After that, we prayed to the Jile God, sought blessings from deities and Buddhas, and even invited several renowned experts in the city—but nothing worked. Worse still, it seemed contagious.

“At first, only my father and second uncle suffered from the severe stomach pain. But soon, the entire family started experiencing the same symptoms. Later on, even our neighbors fell ill.

“Not long after, a beggar-like man suddenly appeared at our house, selling some kind of medicinal plaster. He claimed that sticking it on our foreheads would cure the pain. At first, we didn’t believe him. But when we tried it— it actually worked!”

Hearing this, Song You had already pieced together the truth. He lifted his gaze and glanced at the small plasters on their temples.

“Once applied, it can’t be removed. And instead of recovering, you all gradually became weaker and more emaciated.”

“Exactly!”

The moment the crowd heard him state the problem so precisely, their faces lit up with hope.

“After applying the plasters, we no longer had diarrhea, but our bodies began wasting away. We visited doctors, but they only told us that our ‘yang energy’ was weakening and our lifespans were shortening. We sought out folk healers, but they only said our yin energy was increasing and evil forces were growing within us. Yet that beggar insisted that the plaster must remain on for exactly forty-nine days.

“One day, my second uncle became furious and tried to tear the plaster off. The moment he pulled it away, he discovered that something was attached underneath—a thin thread, no thicker than a strand of hair, embedded deep in the flesh at the corner of his eye.

“As he pulled, his vision darkened. The further he pulled, the dimmer his sight became. And when the thread finally snapped—he went blind. The city doctors examined him and said he had torn out his own optic nerve.”

“...Truly vicious.”

After hearing the full story, Song You understood immediately.

The plaster was draining their vital energy. And by threatening their eyesight, it ensured that those who dared to remove it would pay a terrible price. Those who didn’t remove it would eventually become human furnaces.

But one thing still puzzled him.

Just last year, Thunder God himself had descended to eradicate the Jile God.

Now, statues of Thunder God were being erected all over the city, and half of the Thunder God Temple had already been built.

How had demons and wicked sorcerers dared to cause trouble so soon after all that?

“And how exactly did you find me?” Song You asked.

Li Hexi hesitated for a moment before answering, “To be honest, we’ve already sought out every so-called expert, mystic, and sorcerer in the surrounding area. None of them could help.

“We often see you coming and going from this residence, and we know that this house used to belong to that Yaksha ghost. That Yaksha ghost feared neither heaven nor earth—he even publicly cursed the Jile God in the streets.

“He refused to rent this house to anyone... yet he allowed you to live here. That alone proves you must be capable. Now, with no other options left, we have no choice but to beg for your help.”

“I see.”

“Sir, do you have a solution? We will offer a generous reward!”

“I do.”

The Daoist priest smiled slightly, carried his fish forward, and pushed open the door, stepping inside.

The group immediately swarmed in after him.