Chapter 464: Two Eights, Wong Tai Sin

Xiong Ying came over, but the old lady didn’t even stand up.

When Shui Miao arrived, the old lady actually got to her feet.

Even Xiong Ying found this surprising—such a difference in treatment.

Previously, the old lady had divined that Shui Miao’s soul had followed an immortal away, clearly indicating he was no ordinary person. Shui Miao felt somewhat doubtful about the old lady’s explanation. If what she said was true, and his soul had been taken by someone else, then everything that had happened afterward might have been a dream. If that were the case, whoever had taken his soul must have been someone the old lady knew well, and everything he experienced in his dream could have been an illusion.

Shui Miao wanted to observe the old lady’s facial expressions to detect any inconsistencies.

Yet now, the old lady had actually paused, then stood up to greet a junior—clearly, there was something mysteriously special about him that startled her.

“Hello, old lady!”

“Hello, great grandma!”

Shui Miao and Chen Bing greeted her.

The old lady immediately grabbed Shui Miao’s hand and wouldn’t let go, her face beaming with smiles as she repeated “Good, good, good…”

Her hands were rough, and being held tightly like this felt strange to Shui Miao. He quickly said, “Great grandma, please sit down.”

“Alright, alright, alright…”

The old lady repeated again.

Still holding Shui Miao’s hand as she sat down, she then took his pulse for four or five minutes before finally releasing it.

Xiong Ying had been patiently waiting all this time, and as soon as the old lady let go, he asked, “Great grandma, is the boy alright now?”

“No, no,” the old lady replied, slightly startled, waving her hand with a faint smile, “He’s fine, very fine!”

Something’s wrong!

Shui Miao’s mind raced. The old lady seemed to be hiding something—her words clearly didn’t match her true feelings!

“Great grandma, I had a very long dream. Do you know what I dreamed about?” Shui Miao suddenly got an idea and asked cautiously.

“This…”

The old lady chuckled dryly, “You must’ve dreamed of many things, right?”

Well, of course! Shui Miao was slightly taken aback but still nodded, “Mm.”

The old lady paused, then suddenly began drawing something on Shui Miao’s palm with one finger, sighing as she spoke, “Child, don’t take dreams too seriously. One must live in reality, do more good deeds, do more kind things. Only then does life have value.”

“Uh… Haha, thank you, great grandma. I’ll be a good person!”

Shui Miao felt something stir in his heart. He sensed the old lady had drawn two characters on his palm. What were they for? Could it be for good fortune? Maybe she was just doodling. As she let go, Shui Miao noticed her hand trembling slightly—something common among the elderly.

“Child, go have some tea. I’ll chat a bit more with your grandpa.”

The old lady naturally sent Shui Miao off to drink tea.

Shui Miao nodded, scratched his head, and left with Chen Bing.

Strange! Was the old lady acting intentionally or not? Why had she drawn those two characters on his palm for no reason? Shui Miao couldn’t figure it out. After thinking for a while, he gave up. It was probably just random scribbles. Why waste energy thinking about it?

They stayed at the old lady’s house for about half an hour. She and Xiong Ying talked about village matters, but nothing related to Shui Miao.

On the way back, Xiong Ying didn’t say much else, just telling Shui Miao to listen to the old lady and be a good person in the future.

Shui Miao nodded and carefully asked, “Grandpa, why does the old lady’s haystack smell so strange?”

“Smell?”

Xiong Ying was momentarily puzzled, then laughed, “That’s just yellow weasel urine. Nothing serious.”

“So strong a smell! There must be a lot of them!” Chen Bing added.

Xiong Ying said calmly, “The old lady believes in the Yellow Immortal. You two can talk freely here, but if you had muttered about it in the village, you’d have brought bad luck. The yellow weasels are powerful. Remember this, if you see them, pretend you didn’t. Never provoke them, or trouble will find you.”

“Okay…”

“We understand, grandpa.”

Shui Miao and Chen Bing nodded in agreement.

In the countryside, everyone knew yellow weasels could cause trouble. But after Frost’s Descent, they became harmless. Then, people would bring nets and dogs to the haystacks to catch them.

It was said that their magical powers weakened when the weather turned cold, making them no different from ordinary animals.

Shui Miao and Chen Bing had seen people catching yellow weasels when they were young.

A group of men from elsewhere, dressed plainly but with sharp eyes, would walk around a haystack and immediately know how many yellow weasels were hiding beneath it. Then they’d set up their nets—some long, some short. Often, they only used the short ones, as if they knew exactly where the weasels would escape. They’d poke long sticks, longer than spears, into the haystacks. The dogs they brought would bark wildly and dig into the stacks. Soon, the frightened yellow weasels would dash out and get caught in the nets.

These men caught yellow weasels to skin and sell.

They weren’t afraid of them because they had eaten their meat.

It was said that yellow weasel meat was delicious, though Shui Miao had never tasted it.

There were many stories about yellow weasels in the village.

There was a poor man named Er Liangzi, nearly thirty and still unmarried. One summer, while using the outhouse, he saw an old yellow weasel nearly drowned in the pit. Feeling pity, he rescued it, washed it clean, and even fed it. From then on, the yellow weasel would bring things to Er Liangzi’s house—food, drinks, gold jewelry, cash, you name it. Within half a year, Er Liangzi started building a new house. But once the house was finished, the yellow weasel never brought anything again.

People said it had repaid its debt and helped Er Liangzi out of poverty.

Another story was about a young man named Li Jiang, recently discharged from the army. He didn’t believe in the Yellow Immortal at all. Fearless, he even beat yellow weasels when he saw them. Once, while carrying rice straw on a dike, he saw two yellow weasels squatting in the grass, unafraid of him. He swung his pole and killed one instantly. The other was injured and fled into the river, which was full of reeds, allowing it to escape.

Li Jiang took the dead weasel home, skinned it, and ate it. That night, he lay in bed, unable to sleep, and decided to take a walk outside. As he approached Old Wang’s fishpond, he suddenly saw a naked woman bathing by the river. She looked like Old Wang’s young wife. Driven by lust, he didn’t dare to rape her openly. Instead, he took off his pants and began masturbating. As he did, he saw the woman suddenly lift her head from her neck, placing it on her lap to wash and comb her hair…

Terrified, Li Jiang pulled up his pants and turned to run, only to find hundreds of yellow weasels standing behind him, their eyes gleaming in the dark. The next day, when people found Li Jiang, his legs had been eaten down to the bones. He told Old Wang, the first person to find him, about beating the yellow weasel before he died.

The incident caused a big stir, even drawing attention from the army. But after the forensic report, the case was closed and no further investigation was done.

Because of such stories, no one in the village dared to harm yellow weasels.

Shui Miao and Chen Bing were no exception.

“Grandpa, according to what you said, the Yellow Immortal really exists?”

Shui Miao knew his grandpa never believed in superstitions, yet today he sounded unusually convinced.

As they neared home, Xiong Ying lit a cigarette, took a few puffs, and said, “It’s hard to say. But I know some stories are exaggerated or even made up. In the early days of liberation, the country was in ruins and hit by famine. Rats were rampant, so some people thought of using yellow weasels to control them. But when people had nothing to eat, they started eating the weasels themselves. To stop this, rumors were spread about the Yellow Immortal, scaring people into not eating them. People were superstitious back then, and the fear worked. Eventually, the rat problem eased, but the Yellow Immortal legend grew more elaborate, even leading to temples dedicated to it.”

This explanation was new to Shui Miao, who curiously asked, “But grandpa, if the Yellow Immortal had no real power, why would people fear it so much?”

“Well,” Xiong Ying replied, “given enough time, maybe they did gain some. Even old people can become cunning. Who knows? Don’t talk about it anymore. It’s been two months since I last visited Li Dafu’s house in the west of the village. Let’s go play a few games while it’s still early. You two stay home.”

Xiong Ying itched to gamble, and still had 100 yuan in his pocket. He thought he’d use it for a few rounds—lose it, and he’d be at peace; win it, and it was a bonus.

Gamblers are like that—they can’t calm down until they’ve lost all their money.

“Grandpa, can we come too? We’re bored at home. We’ll come back before dark,” Shui Miao suddenly thought. He needed money and wondered if his luck had turned. Maybe a few bets would bring him fortune.

“Grandpa, let us go. We don’t have any money anyway,” Chen Bing chimed in, eager to see what a gambling den looked like, so he could brag about it later.

“Alright then, but be careful. Don’t go near water,” Xiong Ying agreed. He had just asked the old lady about Shui Miao, and she said the boy had passed his great danger and would have smooth sailing from now on.

Xiong Ying hurried home, hopped on his bicycle, and rushed to the west of the village.

As soon as grandpa left, Shui Miao immediately began rummaging through his belongings, searching for the secret stash he had hidden in an old jacket.