Chapter 42: Truly a Ghost

Just as I was wondering whether to go up and ask what on earth was going on—and why on earth an old man was out here fishing in the deep, remote mountains!

Right at that moment, Old Master Chen stopped me, speaking in a firm, abrupt tone, "Sanqi, this fisherman is not right! Don't go over there, straight into the house!"

Without waiting for me to react, Old Master Chen grabbed my arm and strode quickly toward the twin-room cabin.

Just as we passed within four or five meters of the old fisherman, I dazedly heard him make a strange, guttural humming sound at me in an unfamiliar accent.

I was stunned.

Was this old fisherman greeting me?

Before I had a chance to speak, I felt Old Master Chen's grip tighten on my arm once more...

Finally, braving the hail, the two of us hurried and dashed into the twin-room cabin.

Patter, patter! The sound of hailstones pelting against the roof echoed loudly in my ears.

Once inside, as Old Master Chen and I arrived, I instinctively turned my head to look back at the stiffly sitting old man by the brook. At the time, I actually thought this old man must be some kind of transcendent master!

After all, each of those hailstones was about the size of a marble. Even though they had been slowed down by the dense branches, they still stung when they hit a person.

Yet this old man seemed completely oblivious to it.

The hailstones hammered against his straw hat, making it bob up and down...

"Old Master Chen, that old man..." I started to say instinctively.

While setting several large backpacks down on the floor, Old Master Chen said to me in an extremely grave tone, "Sanqi, I have a feeling that old man... is not human!"

Hearing this,

I froze instantly, looking at Old Master Chen in disbelief as I blurted out, "Not human? Old Master Chen, do you mean..."

Swallowing hard, I kept catching glimpses of the fisherman out of the corner of my eye, thinking to myself: *Not human.*

Could it be... a ghost?

Old Master Chen let out a cold snort, stepped over to my side, and squinted along with me at the fisherman.

"Deep in these mountains and forests, an old man suddenly appearing out of nowhere to fish is already deeply suspicious. Besides, Sanqi, did you even see his face? If you ask me, chances are he really is a ghost!"

I blinked and instinctively asked, "Old Master Chen, does the world really have ghosts?"

"Who knows! There are plenty of eerie, inexplicable things out in the old forests, but as for whether I've ever truly encountered a ghost... I couldn't say for sure!"

Old Master Chen gave his usual ambiguous reply.

In truth, this was normal. There were simply too many bizarre occurrences in the ancient forests; sometimes, it was truly impossible to tell whether they were connected to humans, ghosts, or animals.

Pondering over what Old Master Chen had said, I shook my head internally.

I hadn't managed to catch a look at the old man's face; his bamboo rain hat had completely obscured it, leaving only the impression that the fisherman had an unusually elongated face...

My mind began to race, wondering if perhaps this fisherman was nothing more than the spirit of some long-dead hunter who had perished in the Greater Khingan Mountains.

Having reasoned this out, I stopped dwelling on it. I was the first to step inside, strip off my soaked outer garments, and wrap myself in a wolf pelt that had been hung up in the room to dry.

Well, aside from a faint gamey odor, the wolf pelt was quite comfortable.

"Old Master Chen, it looks like Qiyang has already left!" I scooped up a ladle of raw white liquor and swallowed it in one breath, feeling the sensation pierce straight up to the crown of my head...

"Hmph! He should leave. This place was never meant for him anyway. Leaving is the best outcome for him," Old Master Chen said leisurely as he sat on the edge of the bed, biting down on the stem of his pipe.

I nodded, took off my shoes, and sat down on the bed.

Looking at my feet wrapped in strips of cloth, I smiled and said, "Old Master Chen, it doesn't even hurt that much right now! Will I be able to walk normally tomorrow?"

"You'll find out tomorrow!" Old Master Chen sat on the bed, a deeply absent-minded expression clouding his face.

...

I don't know how much time passed before the hail outside gradually turned into a heavy downpour.

Swish, splash!

Inside the room, Old Master Chen stewed the wild pheasant we had hunted earlier, adding canned fresh meat and compressed biscuits that we had brought along.

A rich fragrance filled the entire cabin, making my mouth water uncontrollably.

While Old Master Chen was busy tending to the stew, I spread our spoils of war out across the bed.

There was food, drink, and equipment...

It was evident that those dead hunters had been both wealthy and resourceful; the folding combat shovels and daggers they used were German-made, engraved with foreign letters.

As for the provisions and drinks, a glance at the lettering revealed they were of Japanese manufacture.

Curious, I remarked, "Old Master Chen, judging by these items, those hunters weren't ordinary people at all. Everything they ate and used was foreign goods."

However, Old Master Chen's thoughts seemed miles away, and he offered no response to my words.

That left me feeling somewhat awkward, talking to myself.

So I took another sip of liquor, bit down on my pipe, and instinctively glanced back toward the brook...

Only to discover with a shock:

The old fisherman who had been fishing by the brook just a short while ago had vanished without a trace.

I frowned, staring hard at the empty spot.

He had disappeared so quickly.

And he had vanished in utter silence; I hadn't noticed when he left at all.

One had to bear in mind that the brook wasn't very far from our twin-room cabin. Under normal circumstances, any movement over there should have been noticed by Old Master Chen and me immediately.

Yet the reality was that I had no idea when the old fisherman had departed.

Hastily shifting my gaze away, I clutched my pipe tightly with one hand and muttered to myself, "Well, damn it, I guess he really was a ghost!"

At that moment,

Old Master Chen let out a sigh, lifted the wild pheasant out of the pot to inspect it, and told me, "Alright, Sanqi, it's ready to eat!"

I jerked my head up, wanting to say something to Old Master Chen, but he merely glanced back toward the brook.

"Sanqi, go ahead and eat! You can rest once you're done!"

I nodded.

Yet, lacking much appetite, I only managed to swallow a few sips of the broth.

The twin-room cabin was exceptionally quiet, broken only by the sounds of Old Master Chen and me occasionally sipping soup and eating meat. Outside, the raindrops striking the dense leaves created a rhythmic patter that brought me a strange sense of security.

"After this storm clears, the next thing will probably be... heavy snow!" Old Master Chen didn't seem particularly hungry either; he simply held his cup of liquor and murmured to himself.

In my mind, I began to picture the scene of the Greater Khingan Mountains locked away by heavy snow...

Taking another sip of the savory chicken soup, I felt a deep, soothing warmth spread throughout my body.

Then, abruptly—

A piercing, miserable scream pierced the rainy night, stabbing straight into my ears.

"Ah!!!"