Chapter Seventeen: Hezi Village (IX)

A chill ran through me, and instinctively I turned to flee! But as soon as I twisted around, a cold sensation swept across my neck. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a ghastly pale arm stretch out from the black coffin, illuminated by the moonlight, grotesque and striking, gripping my throat and yanking me violently backward. My balance was lost, and I tumbled headfirst into the dark coffin.

The instant my body hit the coffin, the lid blocked out the moonlight, as though no light could penetrate within. The scene before me blurred, and a strange scent filled the coffin, creeping into my nostrils. My mind dulled instantly, even the urge to escape faded, slowing to a crawl.

I lay helpless in the coffin, the softness beneath me revealing I was pressed against the bodies of the female corpses. Their elegant forms made my skin crawl, especially the one who had dragged me inside—she must now be lying directly beneath me.

The visibility inside the coffin was poor. I couldn’t move, nor did I have the courage to turn and look at the face of the corpse behind me. The only sensation was her arms tightening around my neck, squeezing harder and harder.

I felt the blood in my veins turn cold, yet I couldn’t muster any energy. Drowsy and disoriented, the icy arms tightened, the skin they touched felt like bare flesh rolling on snow in the dead of winter. My consciousness began to fade, though oddly, there was a hint of warmth returning.

Just then, outside the coffin, a cacophony of footsteps sounded—dense and hurried, yet no one spoke. Flickers of firelight appeared around the coffin, as if the villagers of River Village had returned.

Unable to move, I wondered at the old man's speed in persuading people; convincing someone to toss their own daughter into the river as an offering was no easy feat. But before I could dwell on it, someone outside shouted, “The girl is only twelve, she’s not old enough for the sacrifice! If you do this, you’ll incur the wrath of the River God!”

The voice was distinctive, thick and guttural, as if phlegm clogged his throat, instantly reminding me of the old man dressed as a priest. From the sound of it, his daughter had been chosen as the offering? But he was too old to have children—it must be his granddaughter.

I suddenly found the situation amusing; the old man had tried to persuade the others to give up their daughters to the River God, but ended up being convinced by them himself. I wanted to laugh, but couldn’t manage it.

His frantic cries seemed to be suppressed, mingling with a girl’s sobs that drew closer. The old man’s voice lingered, then came the splash of water, and the crying ceased.

So quickly? She wasn’t even put in the coffin—just thrown naked into the river. Isn’t that outright murder?

Something was definitely wrong, nothing like Professor Gu had analyzed. I strained to listen; the old man’s sobs abruptly stopped, then came heavy footsteps approaching the black coffin, accompanied by rough, labored breathing—someone was carrying something heavy.

The coffin lid! They were going to seal me inside!

Damn it, I cursed inwardly, but it was too late. Everything happened so fast—no ritual, no prayer, no ceremony. People were tossed into the river, and now the coffin would be sealed.

Suppressing the urge to curse aloud, knowing it would do no good, I struggled desperately to break free from the corpse’s grip and stand. But my current state made simply staying conscious difficult; the corpse clung to me like an octopus. All I could do was hope those sealing the coffin would look inside and notice me—the innocent victim.

A head appeared above the coffin’s rim. Despite the backlighting, I recognized him—it was the man who had pulled me into the courtyard earlier. His square face was unmistakable, like a brick, his expression solemn as he peered in. But to my despair, his eyes were closed!

Damn it all, what’s the point of fearing the dead? Why work with your eyes shut?

After him, three more heads appeared in quick succession, each with eyes screwed tightly shut, as if by agreement. Four pairs of arms hoisted a pitch-black coffin lid above their chests and, with a heavy thud, dropped it in place.

Despair.

Despair that pierced to the bone.

I watched helplessly as the lid was fitted snugly, sealing the coffin in darkness. The pounding of nails sounded like the funeral bell of the underworld, hammering away my last hope.

I never expected things to escalate so suddenly, nor for the corpse to open her eyes and drag me in as company for the grave.

After a few heavy blows from the hammer, silence fell within the black coffin.

In this sealed space, every sound and scent was intensified. The musky fragrance mingled with the aroma of rouge, filling my nose and muddling my mind. A complex, elusive feeling spread through me. I suddenly wondered if the method for refining the Blood Jade in the living involved this black coffin.

But now was hardly the time to ponder Blood Jade. The corpse beneath me seemed to stir, her arms loosening from my neck. As sensation returned to my body, I tried to push against the restraints, only to hear a voice from below: “Don’t move if you want to live!”

I froze. The voice was a woman’s, and it unnerved me.

But something told me she wasn’t a corpse; her voice sounded suppressed, as if she struggled to breathe. I mustered the courage to ask, “Who are you?”

“I slipped you a note this afternoon!”

Though my mind was sluggish, I blurted out, “Wu Xiaomei, you’re Wu Xiaomei!”

“Yes, it’s me. How did you end up here?”

I felt a chill—she hadn’t seen what happened before. I’d thought the corpse gripping my neck was her in disguise, but was afraid to say so, worried about frightening her. I probed, “How did you come here? Aren’t you afraid of these corpses?”

“What’s there to fear? If Professor Gu hadn’t saved me, I’d be dead already. But since I’m still alive, I’ll make sure everyone in this village regrets it!”

Hearing her gritted tone, I couldn’t help asking, “What are you planning?”

Wu Xiaomei was silent for a moment, then spoke, “The female corpses in this coffin are Jade Corpses, preserved by River Village ancestors since the Ming dynasty at the bottom of the river. Each one carries the finest Blood Jade. It’s these Jade Corpses that changed the village’s feng shui, allowing Blood Jade that usually takes over a century to form in less than twenty years.”

Jade Corpses? Feng shui?

I was surprised. “How does a young girl like you know all this?”

“That’s not your concern. All that matters is, since I survived today, they won’t have an easy life!”

As she spoke, the coffin began to sway gently. I realized they were preparing to throw it into the river and quickly asked, “Are you planning to take the Blood Jade from these corpses?”

“How did you know?” Wu Xiaomei exclaimed.

I didn’t bother explaining, instead demanding, “Once you have the Blood Jade, do you have a way to get out?”

Wu Xiaomei answered confidently, “Yes! I have a pickaxe. I can break open the coffin from inside—we’ll escape together.”

No matter how slim the chances, it was a plan. Yet I couldn’t be sure whether the corpses beneath me were truly dead or alive. Just as I was about to speak, a sudden dizziness overtook me, my body tossed violently among the corpses. With a heavy thud, my head struck the coffin lid, and everything faded into unconsciousness.