Chapter 64: The Hundred Caves Miao Village

Hearing Zhang Ruoyue's words, I could more or less confirm that whatever Hu Xiaoyu took from the box of white bones was definitely connected to the Underworld.

“What do you plan to do?” I asked Zhang Ruoyue.

She seemed a little lost and shook her head, murmuring, “Perhaps, it would have been better if I had died completely that day.”

“Come with me,” I blurted out.

Zhang Ruoyue looked at me, a hint of joy in her eyes, but then her expression clouded as she said, “If I follow you and someone finds out, I’m afraid I’ll implicate you.”

“Just use a Breath Concealing Array to suppress your corpse energy. Besides, you don’t drink blood or kill recklessly. If anyone does discover you, I’ll protect you,” I replied. Though Zhang Ruoyue was half-human, half-corpse, her mind was clear, and she had never drunk human blood. Even the Ninth Bureau probably wouldn’t kill indiscriminately in her case. Besides, with Old Li’s abilities, such a small matter should be nothing.

Zhang Ruoyue hesitated for a moment but finally nodded.

…

At dawn, Hu Xiaoyu peeked out from behind a tree, scanning the area. Seeing the medical team members who had been lying there the night before were now gone, she emerged and wandered about, muttering to herself, “Aren’t zombies supposed to suck blood and dig out hearts? Would they really gnaw the bodies clean?”

“Roar…”

At that moment, a furious howl suddenly came from behind her. Startled, Hu Xiaoyu jumped up, flinging the jade ring in her hand.

I rolled aside to dodge, then said, “Hu Xiaoyu, are you trying to murder me?”

She stared at me in disbelief, as if doubting her eyes. She blinked hard and pointed at me, “You... you’re not dead?”

“Damn it, after risking my life to lure that terrifying zombie away, you have the nerve to curse me?” I said indignantly.

“Sorry, sorry, I apologize! I was just... Never mind, in any case, I have to thank you,” Hu Xiaoyu said hurriedly.

“Just words? Aren’t you going to show any real gratitude?” I raised an eyebrow at her.

She bit her lower lip and nudged me with her shoulder, “Then what do you want? Should I offer myself to you?”

“Really?” I feigned surprise and grabbed her hand.

Hu Xiaoyu giggled and pulled away, saying, “If you want me to offer myself, you’ll have to work for it. By the way, where is everyone?”

“I moved them into the vehicle,” I replied.

Hu Xiaoyu and I sat together, and in our conversation, she began to probe me, sometimes subtly, sometimes directly.

“Haven’t you been in war zones all this time? Who taught you your arts of Yin and Yang?” she asked.

“My master. My parents died young, and I couldn’t accept it, so I ran away. Later, I met my master. By day he was a wandering doctor, but secretly, he was a practitioner of the occult,” I explained.

“And the Thunder Palm technique? You learned that from him too?” Hu Xiaoyu pressed further.

“Yes.” I kept a straight face. In truth, I’d learned the Thunder Palm from a jade slip I found on Elder Lin’s corpse of the Manichaean Order. The jade slip contained an array; once I cracked it, the technique’s projection was revealed, and I mastered it quickly.

“What’s your master’s name?” Hu Xiaoyu asked.

“I don’t know, only his surname—Mao,” I shrugged.

Mao? Could he be a descendant of Mao Qingfeng, the last abbot of Maoshan? Highly likely.

Then, it made sense to her that I could lure away the zombie unharmed. Among Maoshan’s three great secret arts, one was corpse-rearing, the other two were ghost-catching and orthodox thunder magic.

Hu Xiaoyu’s gaze toward me subtly changed. Though the Maoshan sect had disbanded, the name still carried weight.

Before the warlord chaos, Maoshan, Dragon Tiger Mountain, and Sanqing Mountain were the three great Taoist holy sites. Of these, Maoshan’s legends were the most widely known, even among common folk. The other two were more aloof and generally unknown to those who didn’t pay attention.

“What about you? Who are you, really?” Having answered her questions, I turned the tables.

“Me? You wouldn’t know even if I told you. My ancestors were once part of the Celestial Master Sect,” Hu Xiaoyu said. She wasn’t lying—though later, the Celestial Master Sect was absorbed into the White Lotus Society.

“And that little ghost…” I raised an eyebrow.

Hu Xiaoyu looked uneasy. “That’s a secret.”

No matter what I asked, she evaded deftly, instead probing my attitude toward cults.

Naturally, I feigned a hint of sympathy, which seemed to satisfy her.

When the rest of the team gradually woke on the bus, Hu Xiaoyu and I feigned waking as well.

The others seemed to have forgotten what happened the night before, though they were all suffering from severe vomiting and diarrhea.

Luckily, we had sufficient medicine on board. After taking the proper drugs and injections, the symptoms began to ease.

Three days later, our medical team finally arrived at Fuhua City, home to the Hundred Caves Miao Village of Xiliang.

Xiliang is a remote, impoverished province with two distinct landscapes: deserts and wastelands to the north, and rugged mountains and great rivers to the south.

Xiliang is home to more than twenty ethnic groups. Two are especially famous: the Yue and the Miao.

Gu Lijingsha was from the Yue, the only matriarchal group in the country.

The Miao, meanwhile, are shrouded in mystery, famed for legends of gu poison and mountain spirits.

Our destination, Hundred Caves Miao Village, was established when the Miao chieftains united. It’s now home to more than two hundred thousand people, spread across the Bosuo Mountains of Fuhua City. They live in the mountains, adhering to primitive customs, hence the nickname “Mountain Miao.”

Medical conditions are dire in the village. Parasites are rampant; children are born in great numbers, yet few survive. Medical teams rarely last here more than a few months before fleeing. City dwellers may at first be enchanted by the scenery and the beauty of Miao women, but soon the reality sets in: there’s no internet or TV, mobile phones don’t work, communication is difficult, and the Miao are quick to draw knives at the slightest provocation.

The Miao value strength; if you’re beaten, you deserve it—unless you can fight back.

The village is governed by a council of elders. The authorities only have a nominal liaison office here, whose staff are simply biding their time and wouldn’t dare interfere in village matters.

These officials dropped us at the village halfway up the mountain and fled, not lingering a second more.

Our base was a large stilt house, partitioned into several rooms.

Inside, it was a mess, filled with junk left behind by the previous medical team.

Lin Hai organized everyone to clean up. During this time, many villagers came to watch, but none looked pleased or hopeful—if anything, they seemed amused.

The Miao people trust their shamans, not doctors.

Thus, unless they’re at death’s door, no one seeks medical help. And when they finally do, survival is unlikely.

By dusk, everything was tidied up, and I began wandering through the village.

This was a medium-sized village, home to about a thousand people.

I hadn’t yet seen any sign of the famed passion of Miao women, but their beauty was undeniable. Many were tall, fit, fair-skinned, with delicate features. Their traditional dress added to their allure.

“Whoosh!”

Suddenly, a stone flew at my face from the side. I raised my hand and caught it.

Tracing its path, I found only a few large trees. I walked over and saw Nightingale standing with her back to me.

“Well, you finally show yourself? I thought you’d gone missing,” I said.

“I just came ahead to scope things out. Did something happen on your journey? Everyone in the medical team reeks of yin energy,” Nightingale frowned.

I recounted the events, omitting Zhang Ruoyue’s part—she was currently in the small town below the mountain.

“If it’s confirmed to be Hu Xiaoyu, do whatever it takes to lower her guard, have her draw you into the White Lotus Society,” Nightingale instructed.

“Even if I have to use my looks?” I joked.

“Why ask me? If you can earn her complete trust that way, I have no objections at all,” she snorted.

I smiled, letting the subject drop. “Have you noticed anything unusual here?”

“Not yet. Just keep an eye on Hu Xiaoyu. The deaths of that family on the road, the little girl’s ghost, the box of white bones in the haunted house—all of it seems planned. Figure out what’s really going on.” As she finished, Nightingale’s expression changed; she vanished in a flash.

I heard footsteps approaching and quickly pulled up my pants, pretending I’d just finished relieving myself.

“Ah!” a woman’s startled cry sounded.

I looked over and saw a Miao woman, about twenty-seven or twenty-eight, standing not far off. She carried a basket on her back and held a short knife.

“What a beautiful Miao woman—so ripe and alluring. Whoever her man is, he’s truly lucky,” I thought. In my opinion, she was a solid nine out of ten, not merely for her looks, but for the mature allure she radiated, like a perfectly ripe peach begging to be bitten.

“Who are you? You scared me!” She sheathed her knife and patted her ample chest.

“I’m the new doctor, Li Yan. May I have the honor of knowing your name, elder sister?” I asked with a sincere smile.

“Doctor?” She looked me up and down several times, seemingly conflicted. After a while, she said, “I’m Ming Xue. If you’re a doctor, could you come and look at my child?”

“Of course. Let me fetch my medical kit. Wait for me here,” I replied.

Soon, I rushed back with my kit. “Let’s go. Tell me about your child as we walk.”

“It’s hard to say… You’ll see for yourself,” Ming Xue hesitated, as if something was difficult to speak of.

At her home, I was immediately hit by the heavy scent of herbs.

On a wooden bed lay a thin mattress, atop which curled a little girl of three or four.

Hearing us, the girl turned her head with great effort. Her face and scalp were covered in horrifying boils, each crawling with countless tiny worms.