Chapter 46: Niangmu

Xia Baokun entered the parlor; his first glance fell on Paolongkou, his second on an old woman seated below, her hair tied up in the same style, adorned with a hairpin—her head entirely white, short and thin, her face wrinkled, yet her eyes glowed so brightly they unsettled the soul.

“Niangmu.”

Xia Baokun clasped his hands together and bowed to her.

The old woman looked at him and smiled. “Officer Xia, come to arrest me again?”

“How could I? Times aren’t what they used to be…” Xia Baokun felt a bit embarrassed.

When he’d first joined the police, he’d arrested her for promoting feudal superstition and swindling money.

He’d visited her a few times since, and each time she brought it up.

But this old woman truly had real abilities—otherwise Xia Baokun wouldn’t have come to her.

“Speak up—what do you want this time?” the old woman asked.

The world is vast and full of strange things; not every phenomenon can be explained by science. In his many years as a police officer, Xia Baokun had encountered several cases science couldn’t account for.

In such cases, they usually sought outside help. Over the years, they’d arrested many fraudsters—some of whom genuinely possessed real abilities, but beneath the tide of human society, no matter how great their powers, they still feared bullets.

So most either died or fled, though some survived—and thrived.

The old woman was one such person. She was a native of the Li ethnic group, deeply rooted among them, with immense prestige.

Even back then, the government dared not act too harshly, fearing it would disrupt ethnic unity—so she survived.

Though the Li worship “Paolongkou,” their true practice remains ancestral veneration.

Even “Paolongkou” was later designed by tribal elders, synthesizing images passed down through oral tradition.

Originally, the Li worshipped Stone Ancestors—long, smooth river stones. This form of fertility worship was one kind of ancestral veneration; every Li village kept a Stone Ancestor, much like the Han people’s Earth God.

When Xia Baokun first entered, he’d seen a stone wrapped in red silk ribbons in the flowerbed—that was a Stone Ancestor.

The Li are a patrilineal society, but the old woman before him was unusual: her bloodline passed only through the female line, from mother to daughter, and only women possessed the ability to commune with spirits.

Moreover, once one awakened this ability, regardless of her original surname, she took the surname Huang.

For example, the little girl who led Xia Baokun in—if she truly is the old woman’s niece, then no matter her father’s surname, she will eventually take the surname Huang.

For their bloodline descends from Huang Shengniang—but who Huang Shengniang was, or what deity she was, even the old woman herself couldn’t say.

Seeing the old woman ask, Xia Baokun cut straight to the point and explained why he’d come.

Huang Niangmu listened, then pondered: “Ordinary people rarely see ghosts—unless their three fires are weak, their lifespan nearly spent, and their fortune utterly depleted.”

“That serious?” Xia Baokun’s eyes widened in shock.

Huang Niangmu nodded. “Unless the person is exceptionally unusual.”

As she spoke, she glanced at her granddaughter standing nearby.

Xia Baokun noticed, but paid it no mind, his voice heavy with worry: “My niece is still so young—her life stretches ahead. Is there any way to save her?”

“I’ve only described one possibility. Whether it’s true, I must see her first. Bring her to me.” Huang Niangmu said.

Xia Baokun bowed politely. “Then please wait a moment—I’ll call her right away.”

Saying this, he walked straight out to the courtyard to make the call.

Once he was gone, the little girl, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke: “Apo.”

Huang Niangmu waved her hand. “It’s fine. People from the government have backing—they’re not afraid of us like ordinary folks. Don’t mind it. Times have changed. You were born in a good era.”

Jiang Xiyue received Xia Baokun’s call. Though surprised, she obediently rode her motorcycle over.

“Captain Xia.”

Seeing Xia Baokun waiting at the door, Jiang Xiyue quickly removed her helmet and greeted him.

“I’m friends with your father. Call me Uncle Xia.”

Jiang Xiyue readily called him Uncle Xia, then asked: “Where is this place?”

“Don’t ask questions. Just come inside.”

Xia Baokun led Jiang Xiyue into the house; Huang Niangmu immediately stepped forward.

“This is the girl?”

She suddenly leaned her face close to Jiang Xiyue, startling her into recoiling backward—only for Huang Niangmu to seize her arm.

“Don’t move. Let me take a good look.” Huang Niangmu touched and pressed Jiang Xiyue’s body.

Jiang Xiyue turned her gaze to Xia Baokun beside her.

Xia Baokun remained calm. “Let Huang Niangmu examine you properly.”

Hearing “Niangmu,” Jiang Xiyue understood immediately—in Qionghai, only spirit mediums were called Niangmu.

She now understood why Xia Baokun had brought her here.

Thinking of the little girl she’d seen yesterday, though she’d never believed in such things, she obediently let Huang Niangmu examine her.

Huang Niangmu examined her thoroughly—not only touching and pressing her body, but even lifting her eyelids to peer inside.

Then her expression turned grave.

Both Xia Baokun and Jiang Xiyue’s hearts tightened.

“How is it? Is it serious?” Xia Baokun pressed.

“Serious? What’s serious?” Huang Niangmu asked, puzzled.

Xia Baokun chuckled bitterly. “Niangmu, stop playing games. Just say it outright. I admit I was wrong—don’t tease me anymore.”

Huang Niangmu chuckled. “She’s fine. Perfectly healthy. Full of vital energy—a good girl.”

“Then the…?” Xia Baokun asked, confused.

“She’s fine. The ghost is the one with the problem.” Huang Niangmu’s expression turned solemn.

“The ghost has a problem?”

“Ghosts that manifest physically are exceedingly rare,” Huang Niangmu said.

Xia Baokun opened his mouth to ask more, but Huang Niangmu raised her hand to cut him off.

“If the girl’s fine, that’s enough. Whether the ghost has a problem isn’t your concern. Go home.”

At that moment, Xia Baokun’s phone rang again. He could only sigh and motion for Jiang Xiyue, still bewildered, to leave with him.

“Hello, it’s me. What is it?”

As he answered the call, Xia Baokun walked out.

“Another victim?”

Xia Baokun’s head throbbed again—each new victim increased his pressure.

“Wait for me. I’m on my way.”

Xia Baokun pinched his brow and walked toward his car, ignoring Jiang Xiyue, who trailed behind, lips parted as if to speak.

“Identity confirmed—it’s Fang Yunlou, missing for several days?”

Xia Baokun was surprised, but not shocked. Since learning Fang Yunlou was classmates with the earlier victims, he’d suspected he’d be next—and his guess was right.

He stopped and called out to Jiang Xiyue, who was just about to mount her motorcycle.

“Apo, they’re gone.”

Seeing them leave, Aimei shut the courtyard gate and returned inside. Huang Niangmu said nothing—she was still worshipping Paolongkou.

When she finished, she stood and said: “Go ask your Agong—has anyone unusual come to the coast these days?”

Aimei nodded and walked toward the inner room.

But Aimei’s Agong had been dead for many years.