Chapter Five: Pursuing Into the Deep Mountains

My mother pointed at me and shouted, “It was him! We came here to spend some time with him, to try and bond with him. But while we were sleeping, he took advantage and stabbed Tianzong.”

My grandfather was stunned on the spot, as if he couldn’t believe I could do something so vicious to my own brother.

My grandmother, however, threw herself onto Xie Tianzong and wailed bitterly, “My grandson! What’s happened to you?”

“Grandpa, I’m blind!” Xie Tianzong’s voice rang out through the night, loud enough for half the village to hear. Lights flickered on in house after house, and several neighbors had already opened their doors and were running toward ours.

My father stood up, searching for something to hit me with. “I’ll beat this beast to death.”

I knew I couldn’t stay at home any longer. Even my grandfather was paralyzed with shock—who else would believe I wasn’t the one who hurt Tianzong?

Soon, with just a few exaggerated words from my parents, the neighbors would crowd into the house. If that happened, I wouldn’t even have a chance to run.

The moment my eyes darted toward the back window, my father charged at me with a stick. I grabbed the bayonet hidden under the mattress and swung it at him twice. The blade didn’t touch him, but it frightened him enough to make him stagger back several steps.

That bayonet was something my grandfather had bartered for me—a genuine blade that had killed Japanese soldiers. The country had banned guns long ago, and most people had handed theirs in, but no one bothered to surrender bayonets. In the countryside, it wasn’t hard to find one.

My grandfather had spotted the bayonet at someone’s house, and instead of taking payment for a medical visit, he took the blade. In rural eyes, a pig-sticker could ward off evil—how much more so a bayonet that had killed men and cut down ghosts.

He’d gotten it to give me something to protect myself with. He never imagined I’d use it in my own home.

After forcing my father back, I threw open the window and jumped out, diving straight into the cornfield behind the house.

I wasn’t even wearing shoes—just barefoot, circling through the cornfield, then sneaking into someone’s yard to steal a pair of shoes before slipping off into the mountains.

I knew the whole village would soon be out searching for me. In their eyes, blinding your own brother and raising a knife to your own father was the worst kind of betrayal. Beating me to death wouldn’t be too much. If they caught me, I’d have to take a few down with me just to escape.

But if I really hurt someone, I’d never have a chance to clear my name. I had no choice but to flee into the mountains and wait until I could reach my godfather, Hu Sanqi, for help.

I’d grown up at the foot of these mountains, just like everyone else in the village. Everyone knew which paths to take, and many families kept dogs. If they brought the dogs after me, they’d catch up in no time.

So, to evade them, I had to take the paths no one would dare tread at night—deeper into the mountains.

I knew two paths the villagers avoided after dark: Child’s Tower and Monkey’s Slope.

Child’s Tower was out of the question for me—the Ghost-Faced Tumor came from there, and heading that way would be like walking into a trap.

Monkey’s Slope, though treacherous—a narrow trail carved out by a mountain stream, so steep that even monkeys slipped and fell—was my only option.

I knew Monkey’s Slope better than anyone; when I was young, Hu Sanqi often brought me there to train.

I’d studied under Hu Sanqi for years. Most people couldn’t beat me in a fight, but if you asked whether I could leap over rooftops and pluck leaves from the air like in those martial arts novels, I’d have to say no. Hu Sanqi never taught me those things.

I once asked him why. He told me, “Until you’ve dealt with those sixteen monsters, if you survive, you won’t need to learn. If you don’t, learning is pointless—it’ll only waste your time.” Any time I pressed him, he’d just say, “You’ll understand someday.”

Still, if I hadn’t trained in that area for years, I wouldn’t have dared climb Monkey’s Slope.

I clambered up to the halfway mark, thinking to rest for a while in the shelter Hu Sanqi had built, when I saw a dozen or so flashlight beams weaving up the mountain below.

How had they tracked me to Monkey’s Slope?

Leading the charge was my father. I’d once told him I trained on Monkey’s Slope. He knew, and so did the Ghost-Faced Tumor. They’d brought a crowd after me.

Glancing around, I saw people already circling from higher up. If I stayed, they’d corner me sooner or later.

So I turned and slid down the steepest, most overgrown part of the slope. At the bottom, there were few trees but the grass grew taller than a man. If I lay flat in the grass, no one would spot me. Once they passed, I could think of a way out.

What I didn’t expect was to find, just as I slid down, a small mountain shrine hidden under the grass.

The shrine was small but big enough for one person to hide inside.

It was better than lying exposed in the grass, so I slipped inside without a second thought.

Once I felt safe, I started to replay what had happened. My parents must have been possessed by the Ghost-Faced Tumor on their way back home. I didn’t know if they were still alive, but I knew that hurting the Tumor would mean hurting them.

I’d never been close to them, but they were still my parents. Could I really kill them—stab them with the tiger fang or bayonet?

Yet without those weapons, how else could I deal with them?

Maybe I could lure them to Hu Sanqi’s Fox Immortal Shrine—to see if that place could restrain them.

I’d been to that shrine twice before, but now, with Hu Sanqi gone, I didn’t know if I could even open the doors.

The more I thought, the more frustrated I became. I absently started digging at the dirt by my feet and soon my fingers struck something hard. I’d fled too hastily to bring a flashlight and couldn’t tell what it was.

Just as I bent closer to see, I heard someone outside quietly calling my name. “Xiaoyun, Xiaoyun…”

Peeking out, I saw my grandfather feeling his way through the darkness. I hesitated, then whispered, “Grandpa, I’m over here.”

“There you are!” He hurried in, saying, “Xiaoyun, I brought you some food. Eat something—you’ll need your strength if you’re going to run for your life.”

I took the half a roast chicken he handed me and set it aside. How could I think of eating at a time like this? “Grandpa, I didn’t—”

He cut me off. “I know, I know… Your father and the others were possessed by that dirty thing. I saw something was wrong, so I sneaked out to find you.”

“Eat first. When morning comes, we’ll hide out in the mountains for a while.”

I picked up the chicken, about to take a bite, when a sharp pain shot through my foot. Something was scratching at me from the dirt I’d just dug up. I set the chicken down. “Grandpa, do you have a light? My foot hurts terribly. Could you strike a match and see what’s wrong?”

“I do!” He bent down to search for his matches while I quietly gripped the tiger fang in my hand.

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