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墨書 Inktalez
I called Master Xiao, and it seemed like he had just woken up. This fool chose to sleep at a foot massage place instead of a perfectly good hotel.
I had no idea where he was, so I just told him to hurry over and hung up. While waiting for Master Xiao to return, three more people entered the room. They looked to be around my age, and after they came in, they simply nodded at each other without much conversation.
Compared to the others, Mao Ruiliang was the most active among us. He engaged in brief conversations with each newcomer, which was his responsibility; he needed to clarify everyone's identity to prevent anyone from taking advantage of the situation.
Master Xiao arrived about twenty minutes later, being the last one to show up. When I saw him, I understood why he was late—he had returned to the hotel to find his oversized robe and put it on. He even brought along his Celestial Master Hat, though he didn’t wear it. "This is why I look so formal," he said. "Look at me, I specifically went back to wear my robe to show how much I value this gathering."
"Are you implying that we don't value this gathering?" a friend named Chuan Zheng, who had been pushed aside by Master Xiao, said coldly. It seemed he had some issues with Master Xiao.
Master Xiao laughed it off and replied, "This is just my way of showing respect, Captain. Are we all here now?" As he spoke, he glanced at Mao Ruiliang, who was the oldest here and knew about my relationship with Master Xiao; it made sense for him to notice.
Mao Ruiliang stood up and said, "Fellow Daoists, we are gathered here today for a purpose that I believe everyone is aware of. Let's start with a simple self-introduction so we can get familiar with each other before we serve the food and discuss our specific itinerary while eating. I'll go first: I'm Mao Ruiliang, a disciple of the Qingwei Sect. Now let's go counterclockwise; Chuan Zheng, you start."
"Zhang Chuanzheng, disciple of the Lingbao Sect."
"Xiao, disciple of the xx Sect."
"Liu X, disciple of the Charming Sect."
Before the last person could speak up, Zhang Chuanzheng interjected, "What is this Charming Sect? I've never heard of it."
I chuckled lightly and said, "Uh, we're not orthodox; it's no wonder you haven't heard of us." Influenced by Master Xiao's foolishness, I began referring to everyone as fellow Daoists.
Zhang Chuanzheng turned to Mao Ruiliang and asked, "Can such a side branch participate in this kind of experience?"
"This fellow Daoist," Mao Ruiliang replied calmly, "all Daoist Techniques share a common origin. Your Lingbao Sect is orthodox; does that mean Qiaoling isn't considered a Daoist sect? There are countless Daoist Techniques out there. You won't know if it's a donkey or a horse until you take it out for a walk. Often, homegrown flowers may not smell better than wildflowers." Master Xiao chimed in right after Zhang Chuanzheng finished speaking, delivering his words with conviction.
"Alright, let's not get caught up in this. Let's continue," Mao Ruiliang said, sensing that tensions were rising but feeling it inappropriate to take sides. He quickly changed the subject.
"Meng Biao, disciple of the Maoshan Sect," said a quiet man sitting to my right. His serious expression and dark skin made him stand out among us, but his words revealed that he was someone who preferred to keep his head down and work.
"Wang Xiaolu, disciple of the Quanzhen Longmen Sect and Kundao," the only girl in the room spoke up. Her voice was not as gentle as her appearance suggested; it carried a slightly deep tone, perhaps from chanting spells too often and straining her throat.
"Liu Zhiqiang, also a disciple of the Qingwei Sect," announced a stout man who resembled Master Xiao.
"Zhou Hong, no affiliation, Xiangxi Corpse Driver. Thanks for bringing me along, heh heh." This Zhou Hong reminded me of Master Zhang's disciple, Brother Zhou. However, their personalities were quite different; Brother Zhou was upright and serious, while Zhou Hong, despite his shabby clothing, was cheerful and optimistic. I couldn't help but picture him in a quiet, dilapidated temple at night, saying to a corpse he had controlled to sit up, "Heh heh, come on, let’s go have some fun."
Once all eight had introduced themselves, Mao Ruiliang finally called for the waiter to bring out the dishes. After the waiter left, Zhang Chuanzheng spoke again: "The Taoist community is really short on personnel these days; even Grave Robbers are here. By the way, Xiao Zhou, do you still have business in this era as a Corpse Chaser?"
"Heh heh, don’t mind me, Brother Zhang. We mostly take jobs in remote mountainous areas now; it doesn’t earn much. Being able to let the dead return to their roots is considered doing good deeds. I’m basically the last one left in our faction," Zhou Hong replied with a chuckle, though there was a hint of sadness in his tone.
As the drinks flowed and dishes were served, the eight of us gradually became more familiar with each other. The atmosphere grew livelier under the influence of Master Xiao and Mao Ruiliang; everyone relaxed compared to when we first arrived—except for Meng Biao from the Maoshan Sect. He wasn't exactly reserved; rather, he was just very introverted. In the end, we addressed each other based on age and seniority.
Mao Ruiliang was the oldest and was called Mao Shixiong by everyone. Next were Maoshan's Meng Biao, Zhang Chuanzheng, Zhou Hong, Liu Zhiqiang, myself, Master Xiao, and Wang Xiaolu from Quanzhen Kundao—the youngest among us and a post-90s kid. Naturally, she became our Shimei.
Aside from Master Xiao and Zhang Chuanzheng not getting along well, this group was quite harmonious. Everyone treated each other with respect and rarely quibbled over small matters. So when dinner concluded, we smoothly settled on our itinerary.
This trip was complex but had only one destination: a dense forest northwest of Lost Shore, which had been investigated by Master Pan. It was known to be one of the most yin-accumulating places within a hundred miles and housed many Wandering Souls. Our mission was to clear that area—send away those we could help move on and exorcise Vengeful Spirits deemed worthless without hesitation. However, I couldn't handle such tasks; they were primarily for my three senior brothers from Maoshan and Qingwei since their sects had specific methods for dispelling such karmic burdens. I could do it too but lacked experience in such matters and found it hard to take action. What worried me was that Master Pan’s last reconnaissance was over ten years ago. Back then, that area wasn’t particularly dangerous; now who knew what it had become? Lost Shore is located in eastern Shennongjia and is twenty kilometers away from any road access. Therefore, we decided to take a vehicle through Yangri Town to reach Xinhua Town first before hiring another vehicle to get as close as possible to Lost Shore at Gui Lianping. Once we arrived at Gui Lianping, there would be no more roads; it was over ten kilometers straight from Gui Lianping to Lost Shore, traversing through rugged mountains and dense primeval forests. However, we added an extra stop along the way—Baojia Mountain.
Baojia Mountain once had a village with about fifty households. It is said that during the late Qing Dynasty, members of the White Lotus Sect pillaged this area. The villagers sought refuge in a gorge within the mountains but were ultimately trapped when White Lotus Sect followers set fire to block their escape route; two or three hundred people suffocated inside that cave known as Human Cave—one of our target locations.
After Baojia Mountain comes Lost Shore. I had never been there before but knew that from Baojia Mountain to Lost Shore, we would pass through another place called Cutting Cliff—a steep peak known for its treacherous terrain. Although it was difficult to traverse, crossing Cutting Cliff was the quickest route to Lost Shore*, though it seemed far from peaceful.
This route was quite risky; I heard even scientific research teams avoided it due to its dangers. Few dared to approach Lost Shore directly because it earned its name for being an easy place to get lost—a concave area surrounded by raised land resembling a large volcanic crater. The mountains were often shrouded in mist and rain fell frequently; this rain combined with underground water formed three rivers that wound irregularly around Lost Shore. The mountains also produced abundant bamboo so that every view looked similar; thus if one wanted to ascend the mountain, they needed to cut some bamboo as markers or risk getting lost in the forest.
When we finalized this route, we all felt a bit uncertain. However, we couldn't arbitrarily change the locations suggested by our seniors. In the end, it was Mao Shixiong who made the decision, and everyone agreed to rest for a night in Songbai Town before taking the earliest bus the next morning. Although there was some worry among us, once we reached a consensus, a sense of anticipation began to build. This expectation was easy to understand; no one wanted to embarrass their sect. To put it nicely, it was a strong sense of collective honor; to put it less nicely, it was simply vanity.
After dinner, we returned to the inn. Everyone had been busy all day, except for Master Xiao, who had spent the afternoon at a foot massage parlor. The rest of us hadn’t really gotten a good sleep. I was no exception; my nap in the afternoon wasn’t particularly restful.
Not long after I got back to my room, Master Xiao knocked on the door and insisted on dragging me out for a stroll. Eventually, I couldn’t resist when he said he would treat me to late-night snacks, so I went with him. To be honest, nothing in Songbai Town really suited my taste. The barbecue wasn’t spicy enough, the desserts were too sweet, and even the fruits weren’t that fresh.
During our outing, Master Xiao asked me how dangerous this experience would be. Honestly, I didn’t know either, but it was something we had to go through; there was no escaping it. So I could only tell him to approach it with an open mind. Besides, Wang Xiaolu, a girl born in the '90s, was going too; he shouldn’t be so timid.
Upon hearing my comment about his timidity, he started boasting loudly and then complained about Zhang Chuanzheng looking down on him. He even said he wanted to teach Zhang a lesson during the experience. Personally, I felt that Zhang Chuanzheng was just overly proud; he didn’t have many weaknesses when it came to human nature.
The next morning at six o'clock, everyone gathered outside the inn on time, each carrying large travel bags. Only Zhou Hong had a big yellow nylon bag that seemed to contain bedding as well. The brothers from Corpse Chasing had poorer economic conditions, so we pooled together to buy him a large travel bag along with tents and other overnight supplies.
The journey wasn’t smooth; it took four hours for that minibus to cover the seventy or eighty kilometers. By the time we arrived at Xinhua Town, it was already noon...
Today was busy, so the update is late. Hehehe... Please put down your watermelon knife and don’t cut me! Goodnight!
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