Chapter 13: Little Carp

Nevertheless, no matter what kind of rival he may be, I will never allow anyone to take the woman I, Pi Yangxi, have set my heart on. Seeing that nothing untoward seemed to be happening around Bai Xiaoli for the time being, I finally allowed myself a brief sigh of relief and was no longer in such a hurry.

I remembered clearly that yesterday, when Bai Ranhe broke off the engagement, a flash of red light had crossed his face. His family would certainly soon face a grave misfortune. If they fail to resolve it, Bai Ranhe will surely come to me for help. All I need to do now is protect my bride-to-be from the shadows, waiting for the right moment—until Bai Ranhe willingly begs me to join his family as a son-in-law.

After her father’s consolation, Bai Xiaoli returned to the villa, apparently to fix her makeup.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, I stood atop Changbai Mountain, gazing at the fading glow in the sky. The distant roar of the Yellow River meeting the sea filled my ears. I recalled Bai Xiaoli’s every gesture just now—this stubborn, spirited girl was certainly worth a lifetime of my protection.

At last, when the last twilight in the western sky had yielded to darkness, a black Audi rolled to a stop at the Bai family villa. A young man, elegant in appearance, stepped out. Though thin as a monkey, his designer clothes lent him an air of sophistication.

If I was not mistaken, this was Chen Zhiqiang, grandson of Chen Yetian—the foremost feng shui master in Duhe City.

“Xiaoli, come out quickly! Didn’t you want to learn about feng shui? Let me show you the world.” Chen Zhiqiang leaned against the car door, affecting a pose he thought suave and charming.

When Bai Xiaoli emerged from the villa, I couldn’t help but burst into laughter. The girl had painted her face in the most grotesque patches, making herself look utterly ridiculous. Clever and mischievous as ever, she clearly had no interest in Chen Zhiqiang, otherwise she wouldn’t have deliberately made herself so ugly.

Chen Zhiqiang was momentarily taken aback, but quickly gathered himself and said, “Xiaoli, let me take you to the mouth of the Yellow River and show you what my grandfather has recently taught me.”

“Sure,” Bai Xiaoli replied, bypassing the opened front passenger seat and heading straight for the back, where she sat down.

Chen Zhiqiang deliberately drove the Audi at a snail’s pace, probably hoping to prolong his time alone with Bai Xiaoli. This, however, played right into my hands, allowing me to follow them all the way to a riverside spot at the mouth of the Yellow River.

I surveyed the surroundings. The river was calm, and the banks were wide and open, with no rocks or dangers in sight. The forested hills were tranquil; this was not the sort of place haunted by evil spirits or ghosts.

A breeze from the river chilled the air, carrying with it a faint scent of burnt funeral paper.

Someone had performed a ritual here.

My gaze shifted to the bank. Not far from where Chen Zhiqiang had parked, there were marks where joss paper had been burned. I closed my eyes, reciting the ancient verses of the Yellow River in a low voice, seeking communion with the river’s spirit, and soon I heard its whispering.

It turned out that not long ago, Chen Yetian—Chen Zhiqiang’s grandfather—had been here. They had thrown a clay jar, fashioned from cat bones and containing a baby spirit, into the river.

Chen Yetian had told Chen Zhiqiang that he had already stripped the spirit of its consciousness so it would do no harm. If Chen Zhiqiang followed the incantation he was taught, he could summon the baby spirit from the water. Bai Xiaoli, terrified, would have to be rescued by Chen Zhiqiang—the perfect opportunity for him to play the hero. If all went well, the alliance between the Chen and Bai families would be halfway sealed.

What a scheme! Yet another master of wingmanship. To be honest, I almost envied Chen Zhiqiang.

But the actions of this grandfather and grandson were truly shameless. The spirits of aborted infants are pitiable enough; some sorcerers in the southeastern regions love to use such spirits to craft talismans and charms, but such deeds are considered utterly disgraceful here. Whenever we encounter baby spirits, our chief aim is to help them move on.

Fortunately, I’d arrived in time today. With me here, Chen Zhiqiang’s grand performance would surely end in disaster.

I drew a piece of joss paper from my pocket, inscribed a few lines of incantation, and tossed it into the Yellow River. The paper spun twice on the water before sinking straight down. Then, I saw a fish with a woman’s face drifting silently into the riverbed, into the very clay jar Chen Yetian had prepared.

Many who drown accidentally in the Yellow River, whose bodies are never recovered, have their souls linger in the water, refusing to depart. In time, they blend with the river’s fish, becoming these human-faced creatures. Ordinary people cannot see them; only those like me, who have wandered the riverbanks for years and carry its scent, can perceive such spirits.

Just now, I bribed the human-faced fish with joss paper, asking it to help me by possessing the mindless baby spirit. When Chen Zhiqiang tries to summon it, it will attack him—ruining his showy heroics.

“Chen Zhiqiang, what skill did your grandfather teach you? Why don’t you show me?” Bai Xiaoli’s tone overflowed with impatience; clearly, she had no desire to spend time with him. Still, her respect for Chen Yetian was evident.

A smug smile crept onto Chen Zhiqiang’s lips as he feigned gravitas. “This ancient Yellow River has witnessed countless lives and harbors all manner of evil spirits. Today, I shall cleanse this shore of its malevolent presence, bringing peace and safety to all who dwell nearby.”