Volume Two: The Secret Burial in the Cliff Valley — Chapter 116: The Corpse and Soul Become One

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The old stall keeper shook his head. “No one really knows what it is. Some say it’s a highly intelligent creature; others believe it’s an animal that has cultivated into human form. On ordinary nights, it’s not so bad—maybe the mountain spirits don’t patrol too strictly. But during the seven days before and the eight days after the cliff burial, you absolutely must not bring open flames or bright lights into the mountain. You can only use a human skin lantern, because the human skin filters the candlelight inside, so it won’t attract the mountain spirits.”

As he spoke, the old stall keeper lifted the lantern and led me onward.

I kept asking him about the mountain spirits. “Old Stall, if someone sneaks into the mountain and lights a fire, drawing the spirits’ attention, what would happen?”

Having spent a long time with the old stall keeper, I found him quite decent. I had even unconsciously shifted from calling him ‘Master Tan’ to ‘Old Stall,’ but he seemed indifferent to the change.

Hearing my question, the old stall keeper began telling me a story—an experience someone had lived through.

This mountain is Mount Zhiyang; the tales of its nocturnal spirits are well-known among locals. Once, a family of four in the town had a father bedridden with paralysis, a mother managing the household, an elder sister, and a five-year-old younger brother. That year, the boy fell ill with a strange disease, and after visiting many hospitals without cure, the parents were desperate. Finally, they sought help from an old Chinese medicine doctor.

The doctor prescribed a remedy with an eighty percent chance of saving the boy. But one ingredient required water from a mountain pool on Mount Zhiyang. Many warned them to avoid the seven days before and eight days after the cliff burial, but desperate to save their son, the mother decided to take her sixteen-year-old daughter to risk venturing up the mountain to fetch the water. However, as they walked, they lost their way and were still trapped in the mountain by nightfall.

They knew they shouldn’t bring light, but in their urgency to save the boy, they took a chance. They wrapped a flashlight in layers of cloth, allowing only a faint glow to escape.

Even so, they could not evade the mountain spirits. When they reached the pool and prepared to collect water, three mountain spirits appeared, drawn by the light...

What the spirits did to the mother and daughter remains unknown. The next day, they still had not returned. Relatives and friends gathered to search the mountain and found the mother half-submerged and barely alive in the pool, but the daughter was missing.

They hurried to take the mother to the hospital, but she died en route, whispering that they had encountered mountain spirits...

The search for the daughter spanned all of Mount Zhiyang but was fruitless. People said the girl’s fragrant flesh had been devoured by the mountain spirits.

Many such tales circulate about the mountain spirits harming people, so locals turn pale at the mere mention of venturing into the mountain.

I was skeptical of these stories, suspecting they were just rumors. Yet, hearing that the spirits are so sensitive to light sparked a deeper question in my mind.

I recalled that Ma Su had told me about their own mountain trip, during which they saw spirit banners—meaning it was likely the day of the cliff burial. Perhaps Zhou Zheng was lured to the pool by one of those soul-summoning banners.

But those two days, they not only lit bonfires but also openly used flashlights. If the mountain spirits are so sensitive to light, how could they not have attacked them? Yet, Ma Su’s account made no mention of such spirits.

What could explain this? Could Ma Su have deliberately concealed this part?

Impossible. Ma Su wouldn’t and needn’t hide anything from me. So it must mean the spirits were not disturbed that day. But why?

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I racked my brain but couldn’t find an answer. I resolved to ask Ma Su directly when I saw him.

We pressed on without pause. Though the mountain path was rugged, the old stall keeper was familiar with the terrain. After climbing a small hill, he suddenly crouched, scooped some soil, and sniffed it.

Then he tossed the soil aside and said, “They passed here less than half an hour ago.”

I knew the “they” he referred to was the group I had seen in the village. Perhaps my Third Uncle was among them.

I urged, “Should we catch up with them quickly?”

The old stall keeper nodded and led me forward in pursuit.

After a short walk, we climbed a high knoll that overlooked the surroundings. In good daylight, one could see the entire area from here.

As we reached the top, a strong fishy scent struck me—a sharp, watery odor in the air.

The old stall keeper brushed aside the grass and gestured downward.

Below the knoll lay indeed a pool of water. The clearing around it allowed the moonlight to bathe the entire pool. Today was the thirteenth day of the lunar month, two days before the full moon, so the moonlight was bright, shimmering beautifully on the water.

But we were not here to admire the scenery. Near the pool, I soon noticed a strange scene.

Along the edge, a row of people crouched side by side, all in the same posture. They tilted their heads back at an impossible angle, then quickly plunged their heads into the water.

They repeated this motion over and over, like animals drinking at the water’s edge.

Due to the distance, I couldn’t discern their faces or even their clothing clearly.

But their stiff movements immediately reminded me of corpses. They were undoubtedly the prepared bodies for the cliff burial.

Sure enough, soon another figure appeared by the pool. Dressed in plain clothes, this person waved a spirit banner in hand.

The old stall keeper whispered, “See? The pool water here stays icy cold year-round. The sewn-up corpses are hidden in this pool. When the banner bearer leads the spirits here, they merge. Then they drink the pool water to calm their souls. Now the merging is complete; the spirits are sealed inside the bodies. Soon, the banner bearer will switch from controlling spirits to driving the corpses.”

I nodded, listening attentively, eyes wide, trying to identify if my Third Uncle was among them. But the distance and poor light made it impossible.

At that moment, the banner bearer waved the spirit banner and uttered a series of strange sounds.

The corpses drinking water abruptly stood up.

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The figure whistled sharply, waving the spirit banner as he walked along the pool’s edge.

The corpses, having finished drinking, stood and began marching after the banner bearer.

What surprised me was their pace. Unlike the slow movements in the village, they now walked swiftly, quickly leaving the pool behind.

“Damn. I forgot—after drinking the pool water, their speed increases. We must hurry or we’ll miss the cliff burial.”

The old stall keeper suddenly shouted.

“Ah?” I was startled. Missing the cliff burial—did that mean if my Third Uncle was among them, he would jump off the cliff?

How could such a crucial detail be forgotten?

Though I felt a twinge of frustration with the old stall keeper, I dared not say anything. After all, I still needed his help now.

The old stall keeper lit the lantern and dashed down the knoll.

I followed close behind.

It’s easier to climb up than to come down. Running down from the knoll with only two lanterns gave us barely enough light. We stumbled countless times and crashed into tree trunks. I was sure my face was bruised and battered.

We scrambled down to the pool, checked ourselves, and thankfully, despite many scrapes, neither of us was seriously hurt.

(End of chapter)