The Ninth Year of Shenchu
Collecting Grains in Sudu (Part 4)
The surroundings were enveloped in a milky white fog, devoid of any human voices. Zhen Wenjun felt that something unseen within the dense mist was closely watching her every move.
The wind whistled through the thick fog, and her inner garments were drenched with cold sweat. Although she knew that all these strange happenings were the work of someone pretending to be a ghost, she found herself alone and vulnerable. Lingbi and Zhu Maosan, both skilled fighters, had disappeared in the blink of an eye, as if swallowed by the fog along with the four thousand carriages.
Who could possess such abilities and how did they achieve this?
Could it really be…
Zhen Wenjun couldn’t help but feel a mix of anger and fear. She gripped the reins tightly with one hand and held a dagger in the other. She also clamped the Golden Cicada knife firmly between her legs, ready to strike fiercely if anyone suddenly attacked her.
In the earlier chaos, she had lost her torch somewhere. Zhen Wenjun wandered through the dense fog for a long time, unable to find any people or horses, nor could she locate the torch. She couldn’t discern her direction in the thick fog. She didn’t know how far she had walked in the valley or if she had been circling the same spot. She called Lingbi’s name until her voice was hoarse and she could no longer speak, but still, no one responded. As night began to fall, her horse, Yunzhong Feixue, surprisingly found its way out of the fog on its own.
Exhausted and disheartened, Zhen Wenjun decided to return and reconsider her plans.
When Wang Jin saw Zhen Wenjun return alone, he sighed, “As expected! As expected! I knew this would be the outcome. My lady, you should give up. Don’t risk more lives in vain. I’ve already returned the two hundred thousand taels of silver to you, and I can only write off the loss of the ten thousand carts of grain.”
Zhen Wenjun’s face darkened. She slammed her arm down, and the dagger stuck into the table with a “buzz,” causing Wang Jin to hold his breath in fear.
With a fierce look in her eyes, Zhen Wenjun asked him, “Do you have any grudges with that mad scholar?”
Wang Jin quickly shook his head and said, “Not only do I have no grudges, but I have never even seen him.”
Zhen Wenjun raised an eyebrow, “Never seen him? In such a small place, there’s someone you haven’t seen? It seems he hasn’t been here long. Since you don’t know him, why would he go out of his way to cause trouble for you and seize your grain carts?”
“I really don’t know, my lady. Besides, it might really be a monster stealing the grain and carts! How could a mere scholar have such abilities?”
Zhen Wenjun didn’t believe his story at all and continued asking about the so-called mad scholar, “Tell me more about this mad scholar. What does he look like, how old is he, and what is his accent?”
“The mad scholar looks at least twenty-eight or twenty-nine years old, tall and slender with sparse facial hair. He dresses in ragged clothes and is not very handsome. His accent isn’t local, not even from the southern regions. It seems he is from the northern part of Da Yu.”
“Oh? What exactly did he say to you? Repeat it word for word.”
Wang Jin recounted the events of that day in great detail. After listening, Zhen Wenjun’s furrowed brow slightly relaxed, “He said, ‘In the year of the Red Sheep, disasters will keep coming.’ But this place has favorable weather and no disasters. He must be referring to Da Yu, so he is definitely from Da Yu. I have a clue now. Give me twenty men; I need to investigate Shuangru Mountain again.”
Hearing that she wanted to go back, Wang Jin quickly advised, “My lady, you mustn’t go into the mountains again. If you disturb the mountain god or the Guqiang clan, they won’t spare you. Besides, even someone as fierce as Zhu Maosan didn’t return. Sending more people might just lead to needless deaths.”
Zhen Wenjun retorted, “Let me ask you, did any of your men die at the hands of this so-called monster?”
Wang Jin thought for a moment and shook his head, “No, the ones who died fell off the cliff in panic.”
“If it were a monster, why would it leave you, a plump and juicy target, untouched and instead turn vegetarian? Clearly, that mad scholar is using the favorable conditions to create havoc. His goal isn’t your grain or lives; he has another motive. Therefore, Zhu Maosan and my attendants are still alive, though I don’t know where this person has taken them.”
There was still one thing Zhen Wenjun couldn’t figure out: what was the shadow in the fog, and why did it attack people?
Wang Jin exclaimed, “You’re saying his goal wasn’t the grain? Then what is this person after?”
Zhen Wenjun didn’t answer his question directly, “Have you looked for that mad scholar in the city?”
“We’ve been looking but found no clues. My lady, you might be right. That mad scholar must have arrived in Tajiang recently, which is why no one has seen him.”
“Send someone to the magistrate’s office and check for me. Find out where any Da Yu men around thirty years old who have crossed to the south in the last six months are currently residing.”
Wang Jin felt a bit troubled, “That’s quite a lot of people.”
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“I’ll give you another criterion that will immediately narrow down more than half of them.”
“Oh? What criterion?”
After hearing Zhen Wenjun’s words, Wang Jin seemed to find a ray of hope, like discovering a lone island in a vast ocean. He solemnly said to Zhen Wenjun, “My lady, weren’t you asking for fifty thousand carts of grain? If I can recover my ten thousand carts, I’ll give you the money and consider the fifty thousand carts a gift. How about that?”
Zhen Wenjun’s eyes lit up, “It’s a deal!”
Seven men were screened out, and Zhen Wenjun visited each of their homes one by one.
It was quite normal for the heads of these households to be out earning money, sometimes gone for ten days to half a month. These families were not wealthy. Their heads were scholars from humble backgrounds, who had not found success in the Da Yu officialdom and had come to Sudu to seek some livelihood and try their luck.
Now the challenge was how to identify the right household among these seven very similar ones.
Zhen Wenjun spent half a day at each house, finding that the circumstances of middle-aged, disillusioned scholars from Da Yu were quite similar. Moreover, since the men were not present, she could only chat with their wives and children, making it hard to find decisive evidence. However, as she was leaving one household, she heard a familiar sound.
Clap, clap, clap.
Zhen Wenjun felt a sharp prick at the back of her head and immediately stopped and turned around.
“Is there anything else, my lady?” The woman of the house, assisted by her young son, stood at the door under the light of a torch, seeing that Zhen Wenjun had returned and was reluctant to leave their birdcage.
“Sister, why don’t you kill the bird and have a good meal since life is so hard?” Zhen Wenjun joked.
“Absolutely not. My husband loves birds and understands them well. No matter how hard life gets, he has never thought of killing a bird to eat its meat.”
Zhen Wenjun flicked the birdcage and suddenly had a revelation. She turned back to the woman and spoke to her at length, causing the woman to become both excited and worried, “Really? What should we do?”
“Sister, would you be willing to come with me?” Zhen Wenjun asked, “For the sake of the Da Yu disaster victims having food to eat, I must trouble you.”
The young boy looked at his mother and persuaded, “Father always said that scholars should care for the people and have the world in their hearts. Now, the people of Da Yu are suffering in a year of famine, and the disaster relief grain is nowhere to be found. If you can help, please consider the welfare of the people.”
Zhen Wenjun saw that this boy, who was only about ten years old, spoke with clarity and coherence. It was evident that his family had influenced him greatly, and it was clear that his father was indeed a scholar with ideals and aspirations.
Unfortunately, he had taken the wrong path.
“Alright,” the woman agreed, “I will go with you.”
Zhen Wenjun went back to find Wang Jin and said that anyone willing to accompany her into the mountains again would receive one hundred taels of silver, asking him to help gather ten people.
One hundred taels was equivalent to a regular farmer’s income for two years. With such a high reward, even the fear of gods and ghosts was set aside, and ten people were quickly recruited. Zhu Maosan’s disappearance had left a few of his long-time subordinates eager to explore the mountain nest again. These tough soldiers were fearless, claiming they would kill both gods and ghosts if they encountered them.
Zhen Wenjun soon gathered over thirty people and planned to head back to Shuangru Mountain. However, when they heard her plan, everyone was quite puzzled.
“Why go at night? If there are ghosts, midnight is when the yin energy1 is strongest, and they will be even more powerful. We nearly got wiped out during the day; going at night is just asking for death,” objected one of Zhu Maosan’s strategists. Zhen Wenjun then had the local men who had accepted the hundred taels of silver speak.
“You might not know this, sir, but the mountain is shrouded in fog year-round, and these days it’s the rainy season. After a storm, the fog gets even thicker. Only at midnight does the fog thin out a bit.”
Zhen Wenjun was unwavering, “We’ll set out at night and aim to reach the mountain nest by midnight!” She borrowed a fur coat from Wang Jin and handed it into the carriage behind her, “The mountains are cold at night. Sister, you and the young master should wear this coat to keep warm.”
The young boy cheerfully thanked her, and the woman praised, “My lady, you are truly wise and gentle.”
Zhen Wenjun felt a ripple of warmth in her heart at the compliment. Wise and gentle? On reflection, she realized she did indeed have a soft spot for the weak, likely a habit she developed from caring for Wei Tingxu, making her tender and attentive.
The group once again ventured into the mountains. As soon as Yunzhong Feixue entered the fog, it became restless and uneasy. It took Zhen Wenjun a great effort to control the horse, stroking its thick neck, trying to calm it down.
The torches crackled, and when the oil started to burn out, Zhen Wenjun ordered more to be added to keep the flames burning brightly. One of the new recruits, who had accompanied Wang Jin on a previous rice delivery, remembered that the last time the fog rolled in, shadows appeared as soon as they lit the torches. The shadows relentlessly pursued those holding the torches. He suggested not lighting the torches, claiming that the mountain spirits fed on the flames and were protected by the mountain god. If they lit torches, the spirits would immediately find them.
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Some people started to agree, but Zhen Wenjun’s loud command broke the murmurs:
“No! The torches must stay lit! Today, I’ll show everyone what these so-called mountain spirits really are!” She raised a torch high and waved it forward, “Let’s go! Everyone follow me!”
Her confident shout echoed through the valley, and the thirty-plus strong men, emboldened by her, followed, singing as they went.
As they neared the heart of the mountain, the singing voices grew increasingly hoarse. Despite their attempts to bolster each other’s spirits, a sense of unease lingered in their hearts.
Zhen Wenjun stared intently ahead, continuously waving the torch as if trying to attract something.
Clap, clap, clap.
Clap, clap, clap, clap…
In the dense fog, a shadow reappeared, its sharp claws and fangs rapidly closing in with a strange noise, almost instantly pouncing onto Zhen Wenjun’s face. Caught off guard by the shadow’s speed, she couldn’t raise her hand in time to shield herself and felt a sharp pain above her brow as her body lost balance and she began to fall off the horse. Yunzhong Feixue reacted swiftly, adjusting its height in sync with Zhen Wenjun’s fall, managing to catch her and pull her back up.
The shadow’s attack was precise and swift. Those behind Zhen Wenjun only saw a massive shadow swoosh over their heads, a streak of blood splattering on the ground, and someone shouted, “The young lady has been killed!”
As panic spread, Zhen Wenjun gritted her teeth, grabbed the saddle, and pushed herself back onto the horse. She patted Yun Zhong Fei Xue’s cheek firmly, “Good boy!” She raised the torch high and shouted:
“Look closely! What is there to fear? Where are the demons and ghosts? These are just a group of light-chasing birds!”
Several people had been knocked to the ground, their torches rolling aside. The shadows swooped over their heads, heading straight for the torches and hovering above the flames. As the midnight fog thinned, the shadows’ forms became faintly visible—sharp-beaked, long-winged, and entirely black, unmistakably large birds.
When Zhen Wenjun had visited that household, she saw the caged black bird fluttering towards the torch at the door, which inspired her. The shadows weren’t chasing people; they were instinctively chasing the flames.
“It’s birds!” Realizing what the shadows were, the group became furious, drawing their knives and clubs, ready to pummel the birds.
“Don’t harm them; they are just being manipulated,” Zhen Wenjun’s expression turned serious as she called into the depths of the thick fog, “Bu Jie, you spread rumors and harm people’s lives! Come out quickly! Or do I need to sacrifice your wife and child to make you show yourself?”
Zhen Wenjun had just passed her voice-changing period, and her voice was much louder than in her childhood. Her shout was filled with firm authority and righteousness.
Seeing no response, she had Bu Jie’s wife and child brought down from the carriage. They alternated calling out “Husband” and “Father” a few times before a figure slowly emerged from the fog.
The man was tall, with a sallow face and disheveled hair, holding a long bamboo pole with what seemed to be a hook at the end. His expression was a mix of a sneer and complex emotions.
When he was still more than twenty steps away from Zhen Wenjun, Bu Jie stopped and said coldly, “I once swore that whoever could solve my puzzle, I would serve them for life, hoping to find a wise and ambitious lord. I didn’t expect it to be solved within three months, and by a young lady at that.”
Zhen Wenjun replied, “Bu Jie, you diligently studied the classics, wearing out three sets of bamboo scrolls. Because of your humble origins, you couldn’t enter officialdom and sought to become a strategist among the noble families of Da Yu. Sadly, even after traveling across several states, you couldn’t find anyone who appreciated you. When you heard that the Wang family of Tajiang was planting rice to present to the Emperor, you came up with this misguided plan. You used the superstition of the mountain god to set up a puzzle, stole the grain carts, and hid them in the valley, hoping to demonstrate your worth. But in the end, it’s just a petty trick that can be easily seen through! Where are my companions now? If you don’t hand them over, don’t blame us for being rude!”
Bu Jie remained unmoved by Zhen Wenjun’s threat and stood where he was, saying, “Your companions and the four thousand grain carts are in the valley behind me. You can go find them yourselves.”
The followers, now certain that it was a human trick and not a monster, were no longer afraid and prepared to teach this arrogant scoundrel a lesson. They marched forward, but Bu Jie stood still with a calm expression, as if waiting for them to walk into a trap.
Suddenly, Zhen Wenjun realized the last puzzling detail and immediately stopped everyone from advancing.
“Everyone, don’t go any further; it’s a trap!” She pointed to the bamboo pole in Bu Jie’s hand, “That must be the tool he uses to set up the trap. Judging by the length of the pole, the trap must be very large, capable of swallowing more than a dozen people at once! Lingbi, Zhu Maosan, and the others must have fallen into that trap and lost consciousness, which is why they disappeared!”
Everyone halted, and Bu Jie laughed heartily, then picked up a large stone and hurled it in front of him. The spot hit by the stone immediately collapsed, revealing a giant pit. The pit wasn’t very deep, about the height of a person, and falling into it might sprain an ankle at worst, but wouldn’t cause unconsciousness.
Zhen Wenjun waved the torch towards the pit, and saw it was filled with thorns. The thorns were only as long as a fingernail and wouldn’t be fatal, but anyone who fell in would certainly get hurt.
Bu Jie said, “I applied a paralyzing agent to the thorns. Once pricked, a person would instantly be paralyzed, unable to move or speak. I used the bamboo pole to lift the wooden boards nearby and cover the pit again, making it look like solid ground. Unless someone specifically checked, it would be hard to notice.”
Zhen Wenjun continued his explanation, “That day, Zhu Maosan fell into the trap first. Then Lingbi and the others charged into the fog and fell in together. You took advantage of the situation to capture them all. By the time I returned, you had already taken them away.”
Bu Jie laughed and admitted, “Correct. I used the cart to lift them out one by one and placed them behind the cart, just like the Wang family’s carts, and took them back to the mountain nest.”
“But how did you manage to drive four thousand carts alone on the foggy mountain path?”
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Bu Jie, eager to display his abilities, proudly laughed and said, “What’s so difficult about mere four thousand carts? My horse-driving skills are unmatched in all of Da Yu!”
Zhen Wenjun waved the torch and pointed it angrily at his face, “You pride yourself on your knowledge and manipulation of others, but do you realize that your wife is gravely ill? Despite all your talents, you can’t even save your own wife’s life! Bu Jie, in the end, you are a fool blinded by your own ambitions!”
The first part of Zhen Wenjun’s words praised Bu Jie, making him feel quite pleased. But then she shifted her tone and revealed a shocking secret, causing Bu Jie’s expression to change drastically as he looked at his wife. In the torchlight, his wife appeared yellow-skinned, thin, and frail. Two months ago, when he left home, she was coughing incessantly, but he was too preoccupied with his ambitions to pay attention. Now, hearing Zhen Wenjun’s words and looking at his wife again, he realized she was clearly gravely ill!
Bu Jie questioned Zhen Wenjun, “How did you know my wife was sick?”
“I’ve learned a bit of basic medicine. Anyone with some medical knowledge can tell your wife is seriously ill.”
“Wife! Are you really that sick?”
“Husband, I’m fine. If it weren’t for this young lady, I wouldn’t have known you’ve caused such a huge disaster! You… you really are… cough, cough, cough…” The woman started coughing in her anxiety.
“Wife, I… I’ve been so foolish!” Bu Jie lamented for a while, not knowing what to say, the arrogance in his eyes replaced by sorrow.
Zhen Wenjun had visited their home. This impoverished couple couldn’t even bring themselves to kill a bird, yet they were filled with lofty ambitions that had gone unfulfilled. Now, with his wife gravely ill, how could they afford treatment? Bu Jie’s sorrow stemmed from this very reality.
As Bu Jie held his wife and children, not knowing what to do, Zhen Wenjun tossed him a full cloth bag.
“This is two hundred taels. Use it to treat your wife’s illness. Now, take me to my companions and the Wang family’s grain.”
Footnotes
- Yin energy: In traditional Chinese beliefs, yin energy is associated with darkness, cold, and the supernatural.