After pouring the Xifeng wine, the snake spirit woman took a sip and smacked her lips. She didn’t touch the peanuts and said, “There’s still one person I buried in the ground. It’s not time for them to come out yet.”
Yun Chaohai slammed the table. “What’s your relationship with Master Winter Melon?”
“I rely on Master Winter Melon’s moral teachings and Buddhist principles. When I heard someone was plotting against him, how could I stand by? So I took care of them. You could say I acted for the sake of enlightenment,” she said with a cold smile.
“Is that so? Are you lying to me?” Yun Chaohai didn’t buy her story.
If she truly had no connection to Master Winter Melon and killed to silence others just because of his teachings, her methods were ruthless. Seducing a Shaolin monk with her charm for such a simple motive? It was hard to believe.
Why would she give such an unconvincing reason?
I pressed, “Was it an earth-element killing? Why did you set up a Five Elements kill?”
She replied, “There’s one more person who hasn’t shown up. I need to lure them out. At eight tonight, I’ll take you to find the body buried in the ground, and all the mysteries will be solved. Isn’t that right, Officer Yun?”
That last remark was intriguing.
“Who else? Who are you trying to lure out?” I asked.
She fell silent, refusing to say more. Her cryptic question to Yun Chaohai was baffling. Could this involve him somehow?
It felt like a web of espionage.
Yun Chaohai, frustrated, glared at her, pacing restlessly. He threw out a few harsh words, but she responded with cold indifference.
“What’s your name?” I asked. “Is it Xiao Lian?”
“I’m Xue Youniang,” she said. I was stunned. Such a worldly woman had such a refined name—she must have a story.
Yun Chaohai and I stepped out to smoke, discussing what other clues there might be. He suddenly asked with interest, “What do feng shui masters do? What’s this Five Elements gold killing?”
I laughed. “Most feng shui masters help people assess houses or even build them. Some deal with yin residences—graves. Sometimes, feng shui masters and yin-yang practitioners are indistinguishable. But I’m different. I’m a wanderer, roaming rivers and mountains.”
He looked at me, puzzled. “You look like a carefree slacker. How do you manage as a feng shui master? Why not become a cop instead?”
“Haha, no thanks. It’s still early. I’m going to rest. Xue Youniang is a woman, and a beautiful one at that—treat her politely.” I left, feeling a bit lonely.
A feng shui master like me isn’t really a feng shui master. What I am doesn’t matter.
Back at the guest room, Uncle Jianguo told me police had come asking questions, mostly about me, but then left abruptly. “What happened yesterday?”
I sighed. “Someone died—more than one. Tonight might bring more trouble. It’s a mess. A thousand-year-old temple stained with bloodshed isn’t good. Tonight, I’m bringing everything. Half-Immortal, come with me. You can fight zombies too.”
Uncle Jianguo said, “No way, zombies again? You’re not messing with me, are you? You came here for Xie Lingyu—don’t lose sight of that.”
“Maybe after tonight, everything will come to light tomorrow,” I said, comforting him and myself. “How’s Xie Xiaoyu?”
“She’s got something on her mind, that girl,” he replied.
“What about Lord Hua? What’s he been up to?” I asked, curious about the strange old monster who’d been unusually quiet.
Uncle Jianguo grinned. “You’re asking the right guy. I’m a scout by training—tracking an old monster is easy. At night, he goes out and comes back at dawn with two dogs, roasted over a fire. During the day, he sleeps in his room, occasionally munching on dog meat. The young monks don’t dare sunburn him, thinking he’s a VIP. They sweep out dog bones daily. But I didn’t follow him at night—it’s freezing out there, and I’m not a dog thief catcher.”
After talking with him, I went to find Xie Xiaoyu.
I grabbed an oil-paper umbrella and took her for a walk.
The snow stretched endlessly, a pristine white landscape.
“After today, tomorrow will be better. I’ll find your sister tomorrow,” I reassured Xie Xiaoyu, who’d been frightened lately.
I was scared that Master Long Eyebrows, that wooden-headed monk, might deal with her harshly.
She seemed to understand, her fear calming.
A snowflake drifted down, landing on her nose like a butterfly on a jade statue.
I brushed it away.
In the distance, the temple’s ancient Buddha sat, radiating warmth and compassion.
In that moment, my heart felt hollow, and tears welled up. I knelt in the snow, pleading with the Buddha.
Let me meet my love in this cold winter.
Let me warm her.
The icy snow clung to my face, the wind biting my skin. Only then do you realize what you truly need.
But can a human and a ghost be together?
I thought of Han Zongnan, who missed his decade-long love, Bai Yu. Did he feel this same pain, glaring at me with resentment?
Now I understood his torment.
Xie Xiaoyu helped me up, unsure how to comfort me.
Xiao Jian scratched at the snow, drawing a plum blossom, then another, and seven or eight more, scattered and artless, yet natural and joyful.
Sometimes, humans live worse than dogs.
Seeing its focus, I realized it had moved past He Qingling’s shadow. As I stood, my knees were wet from the snow, quickly freezing in the wind.
A middle-aged monk stood nearby in straw sandals, standing in the snow without an umbrella, hands clasped. Seeing me turn, he said, “Benefactor Xiao, Master Winter Melon requests your presence.”
“How long have you been waiting in the snow?” I asked.
“I wasn’t waiting for you. I was admiring the snow. But you’ve been waiting for yourself,” he replied.
His Zen-like words eluded me.
I said I’d take Xiaoyu and the dog back first.
“No need. Bring them along,” he said, turning away, his footsteps crunching softly in the snow.
I followed him.
At Master Long Eyebrows’ old, dilapidated Zen room, the door was ajar. A charcoal stove burned inside, heating a teapot, steam rising from its spout. Yet cold air seeped through the door’s cracks, evoking the charm of ancient winters with tea and friends.
Without the wind, snow, or stove, the scene would lose its essence.
Xie Xiaoyu sat down inside. Long Eyebrows tossed a biscuit to Xiao Jian, who, tired from drawing plum blossoms, ate eagerly.
“A clever dog, but its yin-yang eyes haven’t opened yet,” Long Eyebrows said.
I praised, “You saw that right away. I’m not bragging, but this dog’s one in a million. Someone offered me fifty thousand, and I didn’t sell.”
He poured me hot water and got to the point. “Jie Se mentioned the other-shore flower blooming by the Buddha’s bone.”
“Please, Master, tell me. I was reckless before—forgive me. The white other-shore flower is more important than my life. I must find it,” I pleaded.
He said, “There are two types of other-shore flowers. Mandoshahua, the red one, grows in hell, fiery red. Manduoluohua, the white one, is a sacred flower of the heavens, not found in this world. Even if it exists, it’s just a mortal flower given a name.”
He continued, “The white other-shore flower is a heavenly flower. The red one is a fallen flower of hell, lining the banks of the Wangchuan River. Why do you need the white one?”
I asked if it could guide someone to the Wangchuan River to find a person.
He pondered. “Perhaps a heavenly flower could lead someone there, neutralizing the red flower’s malice. But I’m unsure. It may not even exist.”
I insisted, “A know-it-all spirit with pig ears—Pig Ear Ghost—told me it blooms by the Buddha’s bone.”
Long Eyebrows touched his eyebrow. “My senior brother saw one, but it never bloomed after years of guarding.”
“Where is it?” I asked, my heart racing.
“Unfortunately, only my senior brother knows, and I’m not certain it exists,” he said.
I fell silent. With Master Winter Melon missing, could this involve Xie Lingyu?
“Do you know where he kept it?” I asked.
He thought for a long time. “I know a female ghost accompanies you. Seeking someone at the Wangchuan with the white other-shore flower is fraught with peril—evil ghosts abound. Even if you go, you may not find them. You’re human. Her mission isn’t yours. Humans and ghosts are separate. Live your life, marry, have children. Why chase flowers?”
I shook my head. “She saved me multiple times. Our fates are intertwined. I can’t let go.”
He said no more, warming his hands over the stove, his veins prominent.
“Perhaps after tonight, tomorrow will be better,” he said meaningfully.
By noon, our talk ended.
As I left, I bowed to him. “Maybe tomorrow will be better.”
He closed his eyes, silent. Xie Xiaoyu and I left, Xiao Jian content after his biscuit. That dog ate anything—bones, biscuits—and was always satisfied.
A few steps out, in the distant snow, I saw a towering, disheveled figure, three meters tall, staring at me.
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