Chapter 83: Great Fortune

The two captains turned pale and hurried after the woman.

Xu Yuan heard every word the woman said, yet for some reason, he didn’t believe her.

Xu Yuan frowned inwardly, then suddenly understood: this was the resistance of “Nothing Is Taboo” against demonic arts.

So he opened “Wang Ming” and saw—it was indeed a malevolent spirit.

The life of a malevolent spirit is different from that of a living person.

Quietly, Xu Yuan clutched the Jiangdan in his hand, feigning terror as he hurried after the woman.

The woman turned to lead the way; Xu Yuan drew his great spear and thrust it straight through her.

“Ah—”

The woman screamed, her body dissolving into a wisp of black smoke, yet her true form shrank and landed in the grass, darting frantically—like a fish gasping on land, struggling to plunge into the river.

The two captains snapped awake, staring hard—the thing in the grass was a crimson tongue, over a foot long!

Xu Yuan didn’t care about anything else—he spat out a blast of “Abdominal Fire.”

Whoosh—

Amid rolling flames, the tongue writhed in agony; instantly, the murmur of countless gossips—women gossiping behind backs, sowing discord—rose in a chaotic, shrill din, leaving the two captains dizzy and nauseated.

Only when Xu Yuan’s Abdominal Fire had reduced the tongue to ash did the voices vanish.

Yan Lao stared at the small river and sneered: “They sent only a ‘Wagging-Tongue Ghost’? Out of tricks.”

The black mist seemed enraged—it churned, spewing forth enormous, grotesque faces: some like demonic beasts, some like evil ghosts, others merely giant eyes.

They stared down coldly from dozens of zhang above.

A gurgling sound rose from the mist, like a starving beast catching the scent of meat.

Clang! The big house’s door swung open, and out stepped an extremely tall woman.

She looked about the same age as Mao Si, with thick eyebrows, large eyes, rough hands and feet, wearing a faded garment patched seven or eight times.

Xu Yuan didn’t recognize the garment, but Yan Lao found it familiar.

The moment she stepped out, she glared fiercely at the black mist—and the entities within it showed clear revulsion mixed with fear, retreating one by one.

The woman strode toward the four of them, but stopped halfway at a stone tablet before the door, slapped it, and asked sharply: “What do you Hejian people want here?”

Xu Yuan and the others stepped closer, staring at the inscription on the tablet:

River Supervision Office, Miaopocun Public Office.

Yan Lao slapped his forehead—he remembered: the woman’s garment was the uniform of a River Supervision Office “Water Monitor.”

But the River Supervision Office had changed uniforms over a decade ago—this woman wore the old one.

Xu Yuan stared at the woman strangely and tentatively asked: “Ms. Wang?”

“It’s me!” the woman growled. “Speak your piece, spit it out.”

Xu Yuan remembered—he smiled: “Aunt Wang, don’t you remember me? When I was little, you used to buy me candy. I’m Xu Yuan from River Worker Alley. Mao Si sent me.”

Back then, Xu Yuan was about four or five; a woman often came to see Mao Si, bringing gifts for every household.

Xu Yuan always got three pieces of malt candy.

During that time, Xu Yuan looked forward to this “aunt” coming every day—he never realized “aunt” was such a plain name.

Then suddenly, she stopped coming altogether.

Now he recalled: Mao Si had something to do with this Aunt Wang!

Wang Laoshi studied him closely—she clearly didn’t recognize him—so Xu Yuan quickly pulled out Mao Si’s token.

Seeing the token, Wang’s expression grew complex; after a long pause, she took it and said softly: “Come inside.”

Inside, the house was spacious and bright; Wang invited them to sit anywhere, then went to pour water.

Xu Yuan glanced around and said: “You’ve got a nice place here.”

Every piece of furniture was complete—Xu Yuan recognized at a glance: all were Mao Si’s craftsmanship.

Wang smiled: “I built this house myself—even the bricks and tiles, I dug and fired.”

Xu Yuan gave a thumbs-up: “You’re amazing.”

Wang poured several bowls of water and sighed helplessly: “I’ve lived here for decades, nothing ever happened—but the office won’t shut down this public post, so I had to find something to do.”

Yan Lao, bursting with questions, finally got his chance: “Why is there a River Supervision Office here? You’ve lived by the river, facing down the entire river’s horrors alone for decades?”

“I don’t have that kind of power,” Wang said, rising. “Follow me.”

She led the four to the back of the house—the house was built along the riverbank.

Behind it, a small stone pavilion with upturned eaves lay submerged in the water.

Inside the pavilion stood a stone tablet inscribed with a single character: “Ping.” Along its side were water-level markings.

Today, the river was forbidden—its waters were pitch black as ink!

The narrow river churned with violent waves, the sound like ghosts wailing and wolves howling.

Yet within a ten-zhang radius around the pavilion, the water remained clear and calm.

Wang said: “This is the Water Regulation Tablet the River Supervision Office erected here long ago. That character, they say, was written by the River Dragon King himself!”

Xu Yuan and Yan Lao were stunned: “Is this what holds back all the river’s horrors?”

Wang nodded: “When we conquered Jiaozhi, the river was extended to Ghost Witch Mountain. The River Supervision Office built thirty-seven public posts to monitor local hydrology.”

But they failed to contain the demons in Ghost Witch Mountain—the river had to detour.”

Yet this post couldn’t be abolished, because this Water Regulation Tablet concerned… the face of the office.”

Wang didn’t need to finish—Xu Yuan understood.

Couldn’t be removed, useless to keep—so they dumped a poor sucker here to guard it.

Wang took a deep breath: “My predecessor as Water Monitor died here of old age.”

Xu Yuan silently shook his head, unsure how to comfort her.

Wang waved her hand: “Enough. Let’s go back.”

Back inside, Wang said: “Long ago, I made a pact with Mao Si—he gave me his token. Whoever comes with it, I give them one thing.”

Xu Yuan nodded: “Mao Si sent me to retrieve it.”

“Follow me.”

Wang led them outside, to the side of the house, where a bamboo cage held seven or eight large geese.

Wang grabbed one, paused, then said: “Fine, I’ll give you this one.”

She released it, then called into the cage: “Da Fu.”

A goose twice the size of the others waddled slowly out from the back.

Its eyes were blank, utterly indifferent.

The other geese scrambled aside.

Wang pointed at Xu Yuan: “From now on, he’ll feed you. Go.”

Da Fu tilted his head, stared fixedly at Xu Yuan for a long while—then his gaze finally focused, as if imprinting his future feeder’s face into memory. He stepped out of the cage and stood still beside Xu Yuan.

Xu Yuan noticed: when the goose emerged, his flat beak was smeared with fresh blood—he’d clearly just eaten something.

“Mao Si sent me to retrieve something…”

“Who said the thing couldn’t be a goose?” Wang said. “Don’t worry—my geese are easy to feed. Just give him whatever you eat.”

Xu Yuan’s head throbbed—he was going to Ghost Witch Mountain to investigate a case; carrying a goose would be a nightmare.

“Could I… leave Da Fu here for now, and take him when I return?”

Wang answered without hesitation: “No. Da Fu is stubborn. I just said you’d feed him—he’ll eat nothing else. If I try, he’ll think I’m fattening him up to kill him.”

Xu Yuan: …

Many plot threads—be patient, they’ll be resolved later. If I explain them in the comments, where’s the fun?

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(End of Chapter)