Chapter 50: Soul Snatching

Xu Yuan returned to his room to sleep, waited a while, listened closely, and found no sound from his stepmother’s side—she must have fallen asleep—so he quietly rose and slipped out of the courtyard.

Lin Wanmo stood behind the bed, watching.

Her eyes carried deep concern: What audacity.

Her first impulse was to go out immediately, grab the boy by the nape of his neck, and drag him back.

But after a moment’s thought, she did not do it.

Xu Yuan left the courtyard and headed straight for the eastern mouth of the alley, gently knocking on the door: “Uncle Mao Si.”

Uncle Mao Si was clearly still awake; he asked in a muffled voice: “Who is it?”

“It’s me, Uncle, Xu Yuan.”

Uncle Mao Si opened the door; just as Xu Yuan was about to step in, he saw a gleaming chisel pressed against his forehead.

Uncle Mao Si swiftly pulled the chisel back: “It really is you, kid—I thought some malevolent spirit had the nerve to use this kind of call-and-response trick to trick me into opening the door.”

Xu Yuan chuckled and stepped inside: “If a spirit used this trick to fool you, it’d be signing its own death warrant.”

Uncle Mao Si shut the door and scolded: “It’s the middle of the night—why aren’t you sleeping at home? Running around like this is too dangerous.”

Xu Yuan said: “I need your help, Uncle. Just now, Lin Wanmo and I killed someone…”

Uncle Mao Si glared: “You call her Mother!”

Xu Yuan grimaced: “Fine, fine—let’s hurry. If we wait any longer, I’m afraid the soul will be seized.”

Uncle Mao Si asked: “Who did you kill?”

Xu Yuan: “We don’t even know who he was—that’s why I need you to interrogate his soul.”

Uncle Mao Si hesitated—not because he refused to help, but because he feared dragging Xu Yuan into danger.

Xu Yuan pleaded: “Uncle, you’ve always been the kindest to me since I was a child—you used to let me ride on your shoulders to the temple fair.”

Uncle Mao Si grunted: “Funny thing—every time you rode on my shoulders, you’d piss all down my neck. Shen Daye and your father never had that problem…”

Xu Yuan’s face flushed: “That proves how close I am to you.”

A faint smile broke across Uncle Mao Si’s weary face; he grabbed a few carpenter’s tools: “Let’s go.”

Moments later, they returned; Uncle Mao Si clutched a ghost by the neck—it was “Ghost Ding Qian.”

Uncle Mao Si was a Spirit Cultivator.

Inside the room, Uncle Mao Si lit an oil lamp, then blew gently on the flame—suddenly, the orange glow turned deep blue.

The entire small room grew icy cold.

Uncle Mao Si held the ghost up to the light—the spirit of Old Qian wore a cold, indifferent expression, as if utterly unconcerned by his fate.

Uncle Mao Si shook his head: “No need to ask. This kind of soul is rare—no matter how much you torture it, it won’t say a word.”

Xu Yuan nodded: “Then follow your method, Uncle. I only want to know who’s behind him.”

Uncle Mao Si nodded, rubbed his fingers against the ghost—Old Qian’s soul shattered, his vast memories fragmenting into countless “snippets” and “images.”

Then they vanished rapidly.

No one could capture so vast yet fragmented a collection of images at once.

Uncle Mao Si merely made a swift judgment, then his hands flew, snatching out a few fragments closest in time.

He displayed them to Xu Yuan.

Xu Yuan saw a large, sprawling back garden.

He saw Old Qian diligently refining ghostly essences and forging ghost soldiers.

He saw Old Qian go to Seven Li Pu.

He saw Old Qian cook his own dinner in a row of secluded houses, eat, then head straight for River Worker Alley.

“Enough,” Xu Yuan said.

He had seen clearly enough where Old Qian came from.

Xu Yuan thanked Uncle Mao Si: “I’m heading back.”

Uncle Mao Si waved his hand, dispersing all lingering soul fragments: “I’ll see you home.”

“It’s just a short walk…”

But Uncle Mao Si insisted, gripping his arm and escorting him back to his house.

Xu Yuan crept quietly into his room, listened again—his stepmother’s side remained silent, undisturbed—relieved, he took off his clothes and slept.

…

After seeing Xu Yuan home, Uncle Mao Si returned; just as he reached the door, he suddenly realized something—he turned and saw Lin Wanmo standing beside him.

Uncle Mao Si grinned sheepishly.

After all, he’d just helped Xu Yuan hide something from Little Mo.

Lin Wanmo was indeed annoyed, her face tense—but she wasn’t here to confront him: “Shen Daye wants everyone to gather.”

Uncle Mao Si nodded and followed Lin Wanmo to Shen Daye’s house.

Around the corner stood a well.

As they passed, something clung to the well’s edge, suddenly opening a pair of blood-red eyes—then quickly shutting them, letting go with a plop as it fell back into the water.

They ignored it.

At Shen Daye’s, sure enough, Wang Shen was there.

Shen Daye leaned against his pillow, smoking his pipe; seeing them enter, he said: “Everyone’s here—let’s begin.”

But Lin Wanmo interrupted: “Grandpa, let me ask something first.”

Then she turned straight to Uncle Mao Si: “You just helped Xu Yuan take the Spirit Cultivator’s soul?”

Uncle Mao Si grunted, thinking: I didn’t betray you, Yuan—your stepmother scares you, but this fiery girl scares me too…

Uncle Mao Si explained the situation; Lin Wanmo’s eyebrows shot up: “He’s trying to…”

Shen Daye waved a hand: “It’s actually the same matter we’re about to discuss.”

Lin Wanmo fell silent, crossing her arms and leaning back.

Shen Daye said: “Just now, the Purification Office sent word—they want Xu Yuan to join them. This is a major matter—I, an old man, dare not decide alone. I called you all to discuss it.”

Wang Shen shook her head violently, as if her head might fly off: “Too dangerous—I oppose it!”

Uncle Mao Si hesitated: “Xu Yuan’s Life Cultivation and Pill Cultivation weren’t inherited from our alley.”

Wang Shen glared: “What are you implying?”

“Since he didn’t inherit our tradition, he’s not truly one of us—he has a chance to escape…”

“You’re no longer treating Yuan as family!” Wang Shen was truly angry.

Uncle Mao Si stepped back: “When have I ever stopped treating him as family? I mean—what’s so good about being stuck in this alley? We’ve been trapped here for generations. It’s risky, yes—but this is Yuan’s chance. The Purification Office is actually a good path—if he rises to an official rank, he can completely shed his status as a convict of River Worker Alley.”

Wang Shen snorted: “Easy to say—but with our status, what future could he possibly have in the Purification Office?”

Uncle Mao Si didn’t argue further—he’d made his point clear.

“Shen Daye,” Wang Shen asked, “what’s your view?”

Shen Daye puffed his pipe; Wang Shen waved away the smoke drifting toward Lin Wanmo: “You’re smothering the child—speak up!”

Shen Daye stopped smoking: “When Ma Tian Shou first mentioned it, I instinctively refused. But after thinking it over, since Yuan has become a Life Cultivator… it feels like fate. He should try.”

His words were vague, but everyone understood what he meant by “try.”

Lin Wanmo blurted: “I sent him to Qihe Tai Town to keep him away from family troubles—not to burden him with this! I never expected him to become a Life Cultivator!”

Shen Daye sighed: “But he became one—coincidentally.”

Everyone fell silent.

Xu Yuan’s assignment to Qihe Tai Town had been arranged by Xu Huan Yang before his death.

Lin Wanmo was merely the executor.

Could a few grains of “Old Year Grain” really draw the June Worms from across the vast Ghost Witch Mountain? Xu Huan Yang probably didn’t even expect it to work.

Yet it did.

It inevitably made one think… of the Xu family’s “fated destiny!”

After a long silence, Shen Daye spoke again: “Two in favor, two opposed—then we follow the old rule: [85] Let the elders decide.”

Please let the elders decide.

All three nodded.

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(End of Chapter)