When Zhang Kun's coffin snapped in two, everyone was stunned. Their eyes widened in terror as they stared at the bright red coffin that had tumbled onto the long wooden bench.
Even the flamboyant Taoist, who had been gesticulating wildly, froze mid-motion, his absurd antics coming to an abrupt halt as he stared dumbfounded at the scene before him.
"Master Taoist, th-this... what do we do now?!" An emaciated old man burst out of the ancestral hall. Zhang Kun had once told me, during a visit to his home, that this man was the village chief of Zhangjia Village—the most respected elder of them all.
The Taoist, previously so theatrical and confident, now looked thoroughly uncertain. He hesitated for a long while before stammering and shouting, "C-Change the coffin! Keep going!"
They quickly brought out several thick wooden rods from the ancestral hall to replace the broken coffin frame. Once the preparations were complete, the Taoist resumed his peculiar dance, muttering unintelligibly under his breath in a strange, incantatory chant.
As I fixed my gaze on his bizarre performance, I suddenly felt a tap on my shoulder. Turning my head, I saw Xunuo, adorned in her silver-gilded Miao dress, smiling mischievously as she pointed at the Taoist and said, "Junior Brother, doesn't he look like a complete lunatic?"
She said this with no regard for those around her—her voice was so loud that the coffin bearers from the village all turned to glare at us, their eyes full of barely contained fury.
"Why aren't you saying anything, Junior Brother? Don't tell me you actually think that lunatic has real skill?" Xunuo pressed on, speaking as if oblivious to the storm she was stirring.
I was speechless. Tugging on her sleeve, I whispered, "Can't you be a bit quieter?"
Fortunately, the Taoist only glanced at us once, perhaps trying to maintain an air of mystique—before letting out a sonorous chant: "The hour has come! Raise the coffin!"
The fifty-some coffin bearers responded promptly to his command, hoisting the coffin onto their shoulders with a resounding shout.
But after more than half a minute, though their cries echoed in the air, the coffin hadn't moved an inch.
Confused, I thought: Are they slacking off? Four men should be more than enough to lift a coffin. How could it be this difficult? But as I saw their drenched clothing and the sweat pouring down their faces, I realized—they were giving it their all.
"Master Taoist, what now?! We can't lift it!" the village chief cried out in panic, his beard nearly falling off with his frantic movements.
"Use your strength! Haven't you eaten?!" the Taoist roared, now visibly flustered. He bellowed at the bearers, "If this coffin doesn't make it to the burial ground today, none of you will see a single coin!"
As the saying goes, money can move even ghosts to grind grain. Threatened with lost wages, the bearers roared in unison and managed to lift all thirteen coffins off the ground.
The village chief, seeing the coffins rise, was overjoyed. "Quick! Get them up to Zhangjia Mountain! I'll add two hundred yuan per person!"
"Heh, money-hungry fools," Xunuo scoffed. "Their legs are trembling and they're still pushing on!"
I glanced at the men's legs and saw that she was right. Though they had lifted the coffins, their knees were shaking violently—it was a struggle just to walk.
Crack… Crack… Craaaack! Just as the Taoist and the village chief were about to high-five in celebration, all thirteen coffins came crashing down as their supporting frames snapped simultaneously.
Boom! They hit the ground in unison.
"Ahhhhh!!" A piercing scream cut through the air and lodged itself in my ears.
"Who?! Was someone crushed?!" the village chief shouted, panic thick in his voice.
The fifty-some coffin bearers looked at one another in horror. A few minutes later, a trembling voice rose from near Zhang Kun's coffin, "It... it sounded like it came from inside!"
"Yes! It was from the coffin! I heard it too!" another man by the red coffin cried out, his face pale as death.
"Run! It's haunted!" someone screamed, and the crowd in front of the ancestral hall exploded into chaos. People fled in all directions, scattering like startled birds. In no time, everyone was gone. The thirteen coffins lay scattered across the ground, some lids flung open, releasing waves of rancid stench.
I covered my nose and turned toward Xunuo. The stunning Miao girl didn't spare me a glance—her eyes were fixed on the village entrance.
Following her gaze, I saw two young Taoists walking into the village, wooden swords slung across their backs. Their attire and aura were worlds apart from the charlatan earlier—they radiated quiet authority.
"Senior Brother, this is the place," said a handsome young man, stopping in front of the ancestral hall and turning to the slightly taller Taoist beside him.
I tugged on Xunuo's sleeve and whispered, "Senior Sister, who are those two? They look like beggars…"
Pfft!
Xunuo let out a soft laugh. "Junior Brother, you really do have a way with words. Those are Maoshan disciples—and you dare call them beggars? Ten years ago, you'd be dead already for that!"
"Who the hell are you calling beggars?!" The two Taoists had clearly heard me and turned to glare, their eyes blazing.
"Misunderstanding! Just a misunderstanding…" I backpedaled quickly, eyeing the massive wooden swords on their backs. I didn't want to end up hacked in half.
"Hmph! Junior Brother, don't stoop to the level of ignorant fools. We've got more important things to deal with. Go find the village chief!" the taller Taoist said coldly. After his companion left, he glanced dismissively at me and added, "Kid, since you're with that beautiful lady, I'll offer you a piece of advice—this village is steeped in danger. If you value your life, leave while you can."
"Heehee, handsome Taoist, you needn't worry about us. We came here because we know something's wrong. In fact, I have something to tell you…" Xunuo walked up to him with a teasing smile.
"I am Zhong Xuanliang. Please, speak freely," he replied, leering slightly as he looked her up and down.
"The evil spirits here aren't something two rookie Taoists fresh off the mountain can handle," Xunuo said sweetly. "My advice to you and your junior brother: if you want to survive, leave now."
Zhong Xuanliang's face turned an ugly shade of gray. He opened his mouth to retort, but Xunuo cut him off sharply, her gaze turning solemn. "I'm not provoking you—I'm being serious."
"Hah! What does a mere mortal like you know?" he scoffed arrogantly, then turned his back to us and began inspecting the thirteen coffins, one by one.
"Senior Sister, what should we do next?" I asked softly. After what happened earlier with the immovable coffins, I was convinced something was seriously wrong in this village. Xunuo was the only person I could rely on.
She watched Zhong Xuanliang move among the coffins, deep in thought. "I didn't expect the Maoshan Sect to intervene. It'll be difficult to carry out my plan now."
Her words made my heart sink. If things continued like this, I might not make it back to the Herb Fragrance Shop before midnight—missing that deadline could bring real trouble.
As I was lost in thought, Xunuo tugged my hand and pointed at Zhang Kun's coffin. "Junior Brother, I'm going to distract that pompous Taoist. When he's not looking, sneak into the coffin and lie still inside."
"What?! You want me to—mmph!" Before I could finish, Xunuo clamped a hand over my mouth.
In that moment of surprise, I accidentally swallowed the Cold Breath Herb hidden beneath my tongue. A fierce pain erupted in my stomach, as if thousands of serpents were writhing within.