Chapter 32: Boxi Boat

What was terrifying was that the entire boat, from top to bottom, had been painted a deep red; drifting in the mist, it looked exactly like a blood-red coffin.

After getting closer, Yang Xiao saw clearly that the blood-red color on it was not blood, but paint that had been applied; now the paint was peeling severely, mottled everywhere, with the original wood color exposed in many places.

The deck was covered in mud, sand, and water weeds; the entire boat was soaking wet, appearing as if it had been submerged in water for a long time. Some parts had already rotted, and the hull was covered in cracks of varying sizes, still continuously leaking water along the fissures at this moment.

This was an old boat—no, to be precise, it should be a sunken boat!

Su Tingting covered her mouth, looking up in terror. After Yang Xiao noticed this, he followed her line of sight and saw the large red Lantern on the mast being blown by the wind, just happening to reveal its back, where a pale, miserable "Xi" character struck his eyes.

Yang Xiao was startled; this was actually a Boxi Boat!

Because of his work, Yang Xiao usually had to spend a large amount of time searching and organizing data. In places near large rivers and waters, there was a custom of worshipping the River God; every festival, the whole village would hold grand sacrifices, offering three types of livestock, paper maidservants, and the like.

But if a major event occurred, such as a famine year that could starve people to death, or if the fish and shrimp in the river suddenly disappeared, the scale of the sacrifice would have to be elevated.

At that time, the village chief or an elder with high seniority in charge of sacrifices in the village would come forward to select one person from among the unmarried girls in the village to serve as a new bride offered to the River God, hoping to appease the River God's anger and bless the village with favorable weather and continuous descendants.

The girl would then be sent off by the entire village, dressed in her finery, to ride a red boat alone onto the river in the middle of the night.

At this moment, a hole would have been chiseled into the bottom of the boat; shortly after reaching the center of the lake, the boat would sink, which meant the marriage was complete and the River God had received the bride.

It is said that to prevent the bride from escaping halfway, the meticulous villagers would also use a thick rope used for tethering livestock to tie one of the bride's feet, with the other end of the rope tied tightly to a wooden pile on the boat.

Because the River God is often called the River Uncle (He Bo) locally, such bride-sending boats are called Boxi Boats.

However, Yang Xiao had also heard another theory: because this kind of joyous event connects the yin and yang, it is called a "White Xi" (Bai Xi), but in some dialects, "white" (bai) and "uncle" (bo) are not distinguished, so it is also called a Boxi Boat.

But regardless of which one it was, it was truly feudal dross. The girls selected were all from poor families. Now, this so-called Boxi Boat had been completely thrown into the dust of history, and Yang Xiao had not expected to run into one here.

Books say that the Boxi Boat has two most important characteristics: first, the whole boat is draped in red; second, a red Lantern hangs on the mast, with a large white "Xi" character pasted on the Lantern.

The "Xi" character is pasted on the back of the Lantern because it is not meant for the living to see, but for the River Uncle to see.

Now both conditions were perfectly met; this was undoubtedly a Boxi Boat. By now, Yang Xiao was increasingly certain of his previous guess: Xi Yao's death definitely had a story behind it.

"Bang!"

The sudden sound of a collision interrupted Yang Xiao's thoughts. He saw the cabin door of this Boxi Boat vibrate once, and the next second, his whole body went numb. The book said that the new bride offered to the River Uncle would sit in the cabin after being dressed and made up.

If not slipping away now, then when!

Yang Xiao grabbed the pole and prepared to flee, but a terrifying scene appeared: no matter how hard he rowed, he could not escape, and could only watch helplessly as the two boats drew closer and closer.

Seeing this, Su Tingting also came to help, finding a broken oar in the cabin and rowing desperately outward.

But even with Su Tingting's help, the two boats merely stopped getting closer; at this moment, the two boats remained relatively stationary, with a distance of only 4 or 5 meters left.

The sound of slapping the cabin door grew louder and more forceful. The old, rotten cabin door could not withstand it after all; the hinges broke directly, and a pale arm reached out from within.

Strange to say, upon seeing this arm, Yang Xiao and Su Tingting, who were already tired and exhausted, immediately regained their spirits. Their waists no longer hurt, their arms were no longer sore, and they had endless strength throughout their bodies, bowing their heads and rowing the water fiercely.

Soon, a figure scrambled out of the cabin in a disheveled state. This person was soaked through, clothes clinging tightly to their body, hair disheveled, with water weeds stuck in their hair.

It was possible to tell it was a man—no, it was the Third Young Master!

The Third Young Master ran toward the side of the boat with a staggering gait, his posture very strange along the way, reaching out toward Yang Xiao and Su Tingting's direction, his mouth making indistinct sounds, "Save me... quickly save me..."

At this moment, even Su Tingting could see that something was wrong. How could the Third Young Master be in the cabin of this sunken boat? It would only be fitting if a female ghost were inside!

"It's fake, row quickly!" Yang Xiao lowered his voice, his movements on the pole not daring to stop for a moment.

Su Tingting only kept her head down and rowed. Suddenly, a scene caught in her peripheral vision scared her so much she nearly dropped the oar in her hand.

She saw that in the reflection on the lake surface, another person was standing behind the Third Young Master. This person had a bloated body, pressed tightly against the Third Young Master's back, with two hands gripping the Third Young Master's arms, manipulating the Third Young Master to make movements as if controlling a puppet.

Su Tingting finally knew why the Third Young Master's movements looked so uncoordinated—because that was not him at all!

The next second, the figure behind the Third Young Master paused, then suddenly turned its head to look at Su Tingting through the water surface. The moment their gazes collided, Su Tingting's breathing stopped; it was a dark, bruised, rotten ghost face as large as two heads!

The eye area was almost squeezed into a slit by the rotting flesh, but it was from that very slit that Su Tingting truly felt a cold, resentful gaze.

Her mind began to grow dizzy; she had the urge to plunge headfirst into the lake. "I cannot die, I don't want to die!" A powerful will to survive drove her to bite her tongue tip hard. The bloody taste exploded, and the intense, sharp pain made her instantly sober up.

"That ghost is behind him, controlling the Third Young Master." Su Tingting immediately warned Yang Xiao, "Don't look at the lake surface; the ghost in the reflection can see us."

"Many thanks." Yang Xiao had also noticed just now, but he had placed more of his attention on how to escape this place.

Of course, Su Tingting's good intentions could not be ignored; newcomers needed encouragement.

Finally, their efforts had an effect. Their boat finally moved and began to distance itself from the Boxi Boat. After rowing out about 30 meters, a strange singing voice suddenly sounded from behind.

The "yi-ya" singing was ethereal, sometimes far and sometimes near, but the unwillingness and grief contained within it made one's whole body turn cold. Summoning the courage to look back, Yang Xiao saw a terrifying scene.

The Third Young Master was standing on the deck, one hand high and one hand low, posing in a posture that an ordinary person could absolutely not make, taking small, shuffling steps, his hands forming a "flower-pinching" gesture, with a thick hemp rope tied to his left ankle and the other end tied under the mast.

The "yi-ya" opera singing flowed out over the mist-shrouded lake, as if a grand play were beginning.

And with the singing, this Boxi Boat slowly sank. Soon, the Third Young Master was standing in the water up to half his body.

Yet he acted as if he felt nothing, continuing to sing, continuing to walk, continuing to change his posture and gestures, until he was swallowed by the lake water.