Chapter Eleven: Hezi Village (Part Three)

Is there green light above the riverbed?

My heart skipped slightly, a voice echoed in my mind, yet I refused to connect these two occurrences. Even as I urged myself not to stir up trouble in this place, I couldn't help but ask softly, "Besides those things, is there anything else?"

The man grinned and replied, "Someone said there's treasure buried under the riverbed at the Second Bend. That's all I know."

He seemed to have a talent for storytelling, so I handed him a whole box of cigarettes. But just as I placed the cigarettes in his hand, the sound of the bronze gong from the ancestral hall rang out again.

"I have to go," he muttered, telling me to stay in the courtyard and wait for his return, to attend the wedding feast tonight. He pocketed the cigarettes, opened the gate, and slipped away.

I sat at the door, listening to the heavy footsteps outside, pondering for a long time. The Second Bend, haunted as the man described, was precisely the place Jin Zhenbang had instructed me to find Mr. Ji. Could such coincidence exist?

The odds were slim. I frowned—could it be that Jin Zhenbang wanted me to deliver the item during the day and leave before nightfall because of this?

But if the man knew about Second Bend, why did he lie and say the person was in the back mountain hollow?

My way of judging whether someone is a liar is by their manner of speaking. If the man intended to deceive me, he wouldn't have mentioned Second Bend at all, nor spun such a long tale, nor asked me to stay in the courtyard. I believed he was telling the truth. So, whether there's treasure buried in the riverbed at Second Bend, or if it is haunted, deserved careful consideration.

I thought of the old professor from Beijing, Professor Gu, an expert from the National University who had traveled all this way to such a remote mountain village. Surely he knew something. If I got the chance, I'd meet him and ask about Second Bend, though I wasn't sure where he and his student were now, or whether they'd be willing to help.

After waiting at the door for a while, the footsteps outside faded. I stood up, opened the gate a crack, saw no one on the road, then slipped out, crouching low.

When chatting with the man earlier, I noticed that every time he mentioned Second Bend, his eyes unconsciously flicked west. I figured Second Bend must be in that direction. I hadn't gone far when, in the silent village, a woman's sobbing drifted into my ears.

The sound was low, like suppressed weeping, as if afraid of being heard—almost like a child crying, young and deeply aggrieved.

I thought everyone was at the ancestral hall now. The sudden sob made my legs weak, nearly dropping to the ground. Listening closely, the source was a house nearby, just two steps away.

So far, this remote river village had felt nothing but ancient and uncanny. I didn't want to linger here, nor meddle in their affairs—just deliver the item and leave before dark. But curiosity ultimately triumphed over caution. I crept behind the house where the sobbing came from, reached up to the wall, and peered into the courtyard.

Unlike the man's home, this courtyard was spotless, no clutter, even the ground newly paved with blue stone, as clean as my own shop.

In the middle of the yard, a girl in a red dress crouched, hands on her knees, eyes swollen and red, her head trembling, pale cheeks streaked with tears.

I guessed the red dress was a bridal gown—she must be today's bride. Yet she looked far too young, perhaps only fourteen or fifteen, still with traces of childishness, not matching the red wedding attire.

While I watched her, the girl looked up and saw me.

Our gazes met, and unexpectedly, she became agitated, standing up abruptly. Her eyes brimmed with terror, her small face twisted oddly, eyes darting sideways. Following her gaze, I noticed there were two others at the gate, whispering.

Too far to hear their words, but seeing them lurking at the entrance, it couldn't be anything good.

The scene reminded me of news reports about human trafficking. As I wondered what to do, the girl slowly approached me.

What was she going to do?

I stared at her. She was even more nervous than I, body trembling. Before I could figure it out, she suddenly raised her hand, and a small white object flew toward me.

Instinctively, I reached out to catch it, forgetting I was perched atop the wall. As my palm closed around the white spot, I lost balance and fell backward, landing hard on the ground.

"Who’s there?"

Hearing the startled shout from the courtyard, I ignored whatever I’d caught, scrambled to my feet, and bolted toward Second Bend.

The village had only one road. Circling from behind the house, I poked my head out and saw a group of people coming from the ancestral hall.

These villagers headed straight for the girl's home, all burly, carrying sticks, faces grim and eyes filled with a strange gleam, like devotees brainwashed by a cult.

The leader, an old man, said, "It’s getting dark. Drive all the outsiders out. Don’t let them stay overnight."

His voice was raspy, almost gurgling, quite distinctive.

"Someone will escort the old man out soon. The woman hasn't been found—must be hiding," said a middle-aged man beside him.

The old man stood at the gate and told him, "Hold the old man for now. Find the woman before dark and send them both away. If it gets late, don’t bother sending anyone out."

The middle-aged man nodded, "Understood."

After giving orders, the old man pushed open the door and entered the courtyard, while the middle-aged man and his group guarded the entrance. I hid behind the wall, too afraid to move. After thinking it over, I took out my phone and sent Old Rong a text: tonight, no matter what, bring people here, or there might be danger to life.

Originally, I should have sent this message to Jin Yitiao, but given his current situation, that wasn't realistic. Besides him, I knew few others in this line of work—the only one capable was Old Rong, whom I’d recently met.

Sitting at the base of the wall, I checked the time and put my phone away, pondering what all this meant. I unfolded the slip of paper in my hand and glanced at it. Three words were written: Take me away.

I clenched the note, took a deep breath, and stood up, pressing my back to the wall as I moved inward. Confirming that only these few people weren’t at the ancestral hall, I crouched low and dashed along the village path toward Second Bend.

I had an hour left to finish my business and catch a boat out of here. I never considered myself a bad person, but under the circumstances, the only thing I could do was leave quickly and figure out how to help these villagers later.

As I ran, I cursed Jin Yitiao in my heart. If it weren’t for his greed, I’d still be running my little shop, not trapped in this bizarre village. If I died today, with Jin Zhenbang and the thieves’ guild washing their hands of me, there’d be no one left even to collect my body.

I passed many households, all courtyards, none with people inside. I gritted my teeth and ran for nearly ten minutes. When I finally escaped from the western edge of the village, I found the road ended.

The Haihe River curved here, split by a sandbar into two branches—one winding behind the mountain, destination unknown; the other veering south to irrigate the village, forming what they called the Second River Mouth.

It was a classic fish-mouth dam, a water diversion structure shaped like a fish’s mouth, common in ancient times where water was drawn without a dam.

Standing at the shore, disheartened, I saw nothing but a withered ancient tree at the tip of the fish-mouth bank—no sign of anyone. Could Mr. Ji have meant this broken tree?

"Hey, over here!"

The rush of water mingled with a faint call, prickling my ears. I shuddered, turned toward the sound, and saw a figure hiding behind the dead tree, furtively beckoning.

"Come quickly!"

Seeing me hesitate, the figure emerged from behind the tree. Only then did I realize it was Professor Gu’s student, so I hurried over.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

Professor Gu’s student, Tong, was a young woman from Xinjiang, with large, watery eyes and long, fluttering lashes. She looked at me and asked, "Have you seen Professor Gu?"

I shook my head, "I think Professor Gu was taken by the villagers. They’re still searching for you—why are you here?"

She stared at me, "Forget that for now. Do you know what the village is planning tonight?"

I was stunned, "What do you mean? Isn’t the village chief marrying off his daughter?"

"No," she replied, "Tonight, River Village is holding a live sacrifice. Professor Gu and I came here because of this."