Black Shroud of Corpses

Black Shroud of Corpses – Chapter 19, Wolong Valley

| Black Shroud of Corpses |

Translator: Silavin

 

It was past 11pm. Hansheng unwrapped the layers of cloth around Lan’er’s head, and carefully removed the sanitary belt…

 

In an instant, Hansheng was stunned. The Lan’er before him was so beautiful. Thick eyebrows and large eyes, a round nose with a soft tip, firm full lips. She had a well shaped forehead and jaw, with healthy skin tinted with a reddish glow beneath a slightly dark complexion…

 

“So, you were originally this beautiful,” Hansheng murmured.

 

His Father stood to the side, nodding with satisfaction. This girl had the type of beauty typical of 1970s rural areas’ Iron Girls. They had features which were said to bring prosperity to their Husbands.

 

Lan’er took the mirror her Mother handed her. Looking at her reflection, tears suddenly streamed down her face.

 

“It’s really me, just like before,” Lan’er excitedly said. Even her voice had changed, no longer hoarse but clear like a bronze bell.

 

“Brother Hansheng, I will keep my promise and marry you,” Lan’er said softly, lowering her head.

 

Hansheng’s face reddened. He looked at his Father in helplessness.

 

Though Hansheng was somewhat shy, he was delighted to see Lan’er’s pretty face.

 

The autumn night was deep with a cool breeze. Yet, inside the thatched house, there was a warm spring-like atmosphere. No one felt sleepy, so they drank warm tea and chatted.

 

“From now on, we’re all one Family. This winter, we’ll prepare some timber. Next year, we’ll start building a new house,” Doctor Zhu said.

 

Hansheng was still thinking about something he had not mentioned. [Could the Hermit of Wuchu Mountain be Lan’er’s Father?]

 

He planned to quietly visit Dazhang Mountain’s Wolong Valley the next day to find the Hermit to ask him about it. For now, he would not tell the Mother and Daughter, so he could surprise them later.

 

The crescent moon set in the west. Hansheng tossed and turned, unable to sleep. He finally dozed off after the rooster crowed for the third time.

 

In the early morning, the kitchen was filled with the aroma of meat. Lan’er was stewing the pork leg that Wu Daoming had brought yesterday. This was now her home. After more than ten years of wandering with her Mother, their hard times were finally over.

 

After breakfast, his Father prepared to go to Nanshan Town. Since Lan’er and her Mother were from out of town, according to household registration regulations, he had to report to the government and go through the relevant procedures.

 

“Stay at home and rest well,” his Father instructed Hansheng before leaving.

 

Hansheng thought, [If I go to Wolong Valley now, I can return by sunset. If Uncle Hermit really is Lan’er’s birth Father, I want to bring him back with me.]

 

Hansheng thus made an excuse about going to the foot of the mountain to dig some herbs and exercise his muscles. He told Lan’er and her Mother not to worry before setting off with the big yellow dog, Dummy.

 

※※※

 

Walking eastward along the foot of Nanshan, the autumn air was crisp and clear. Dewdrops hung on the small wildflowers by the roadside. The air was filled with a refreshing earthy fragrance.

 

Dummy ran happily in front. Hansheng’s injured leg was no longer a major problem, and he did not feel much strain when walking.

 

Neither he nor Dummy noticed that behind them, just within sight, was a nimble figure following. It was Zhu Biao.

 

After more than an hour, Hansheng had entered Dazhang Mountain. The terrain gradually became more inclined, and the forest denser.

 

Wolong Valley was just ahead. Hansheng vaguely remembered the old Camphor Tree at the valley entrance, and the reluctant figure of the Hermit of Wuchu Mountain. Perhaps, it was fate that this person who had once saved his life became his future Father-in-law.

 

The small stream in the valley was still as clear as before, and he could occasionally see small fish swimming in the water. The Camphor Trees became increasingly dense. After rounding a grove, the familiar thatched house appeared before him. It was a simple mud-brick house with a thatched roof. Outside was a small patch of lush green vegetable garden, cultivated by the Hermit himself. Smoke curled up from the chimney.

 

Hansheng signalled Dummy to be quiet. He tiptoed towards the house, wanting to surprise Uncle Hermit.

 

In the kitchen, a tall, thin figure was frying something in the wok. There was that familiar smell of Mountain Rat Jerky.

 

“Uncle Hermit!” Hansheng suddenly pounced forward with a shout, startling the person. With a clang, the spatula fell into the iron wok.

 

The person slowly turned around, looking at Hansheng in surprise.

 

He was not the Hermit of Wuchu Mountain.

 

This man had a greyish complexion, short black eyebrows, He had triangular eyes with more white than black, and a goatee under his hooked nose.

 

“I’m sorry, where is Uncle Hermit?” Hansheng asked, feeling embarrassed.

 

“Who are you? What are you doing in my Wolong Valley?” The eagle nosed old man asked in return, his sinister gaze fixed on Hansheng as his voice was as grating as metal.

 

“I’m looking for the Hermit of Wuchu Mountain. He should be someone who lives in this house,” Hansheng said, disliking this person from the bottom of his heart.

 

The old man stared at him for a long time before slowly saying, “There has never been any Hermit of Wuchu Mountain here. You must be here to steal my Loquats. I thought it was those damn monkeys doing it.”

 

[How is this possible? This is clearly Wolong Valley. It is this mud-brick thatched house. I was in this kitchen, and even the Mountain Rat jerky…] Hansheng’s face reddened as he argued, “Are you new here? Where’s the previous forest keeper?”

 

The old man got a little angry. “I’ve been keeping this forest for decades. You can ask at the Forestry Bureau. Who doesn’t know me, Jiang Laoer?”

 

“You’ve been here for decades?” Hansheng was completely confused.

 

“That’s right. I’ve never seen such a reckless young man,” Jiang Laoer said, his tone softening a bit.

 

Hansheng still could not believe what he was seeing. He had spent two days with Uncle Hermit. How could a perfectly fine person just disappear into thin air?

 

“Boy, is there something wrong with you up here?” Jiang Laoer asked, tapping his own head.

 

Hansheng did not answer. He turned and rushed into the room where he had once slept. At a glance, he saw that the old-style wooden bed was still there, along with the whitewashed walls and simple table and chairs.

 

[Could my head really have been damaged from that fall?] Hansheng stood there, dumbfounded.

 

“Hey, what’s wrong with you?” Jiang Laoer gently pushed Hansheng.

 

“Do you know about the ‘sanitary belt struck by lightning’?” Hansheng blurted out absent-mindedly.

 

“Sanitary belt? You mean the thing women use down there…” Jiang Laoer grinned, revealing a few yellow teeth stained from tea.

 

“Do you have a hunting rifle?” Hansheng blurted out again.

 

“Yes, it’s hanging behind the door,” Jiang Laoer pointed to the door.

 

Hansheng’s gaze followed, and sure enough, it was the old double-barreled hunting rifle that he saw. It was hanging there quietly.

 

[Impossible! Absolutely impossible! What on earth is going on!?] Hansheng stumbled out the door. [The Hermit of Wuchu Mountain, that old bat, the sanitary belt struck by lightning, the Mountain Rat Jerky… Could they all have been hallucinations? Lan’er, her Crying Blood Disease, her Mother’s Gradual Freezing Disease… Could they have also been just mere hallucinations?]

 

Behind an old Camphor Tree, Zhu Biao witnessed all this. He quietly retreated into the forest.

 

Old Wu had warned him not to be discovered. He especially had to avoid that sharp big stupid dog. Besides, he had already figured out what he needed to know…

 

Hansheng walked back dejectedly, with Dummy following him behind listlessly. The stream gurgled by his feet, and unknown insects called tirelessly in the grass. Ahead, they returned to the old Camphor Tree at the valley entrance.

 

[Something is wrong.] Hansheng stopped in his tracks.

 

[The paintings are gone. The landscape paintings that had hung on the walls of his house. I remember them clearly. But the whitewashed walls there are now bare. There’s nothing on them. They had disappeared along with Uncle Hermit…]

 

Hansheng’s heart tightened. He tried hard to recall the scenery of the valley from last time. It did seem somewhat different from this visit.

 

Just then, the big yellow dog Dummy’s barking caught his attention. His gaze followed the sound, and he was stunned. Where Dummy was standing was also a valley entrance. It was identical to the one they had just come out of.

 

He hurried forward. A small stream gurgled in the valley. Looking closely, he saw the same small fish in the water. Looking further, there was the same dense Camphor Tree forest, with a small winding path leading into it.

 

Hansheng rubbed his eyes. [Are there two valleys in Wolong Valley?]

 

When he had said goodbye to Uncle Hermit last time, he had not paid attention to where they had come out. The valley entrance just now was on the left side of the old Camphor Tree, while this one was on the right side.

 

[I must have gone to the wrong valley.] Hansheng wiped the sweat from his forehead, thinking he was even more foolish than Dummy.

 

“Dummy!” Hansheng called out with perked up spirits. He followed Dummy into the valley.

 


 

| Black Shroud of Corpses |

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