Chapter 14: The He Family

“Anything… are you sure?”

“Sure.” Feng Yu shu pressed her hands against her chest, her snow-white collarbone beneath plump breasts, her pale, soft skin more beautiful than the white jade pendant hanging from her neck: “As long as I can leave this place, you can ask me to do anything.”

“Fine, then pay up.” Ning Zhe said at once: “What do you have of value? Cash, jewelry—anything. But let me be clear: I don’t want jade pendants, pearls, bodhi seeds—things hard to liquidate. I only accept cash or precious metals like gold and silver.”

Feng Yu shu opened her mouth as if to speak, but ultimately said nothing: “Alright…”

She lifted her hand and removed the gold-inlaid jade wutong wood hairpin from the back of her head; her long black hair, freed from restraint, spilled like a waterfall of ink. Then she took all the cash from her small leather purse, slipped off the rose-engraved diamond-studded gold ring on her left ring finger, and handed everything to Ning Zhe.

Feng Yu shu did not resent Ning Zhe’s extortion; on the contrary, she felt a flicker of relief, for money and material goods only held value in a world where social order remained intact. The fact that he demanded cash and jewelry proved he had full confidence and firm certainty that he could leave He Family Village and return to the real world.

What were a few pieces of jewelry and some cash, if she could only leave? But Feng Yu shu, who thought she had grasped the second layer, did not know that Ning Zhe operated on a higher one.

“This woman has unexpected little wit. But by demanding these valuables, I’ve surely planted enough subconscious trust in her.” Ning Zhe remained calm, stuffing Feng Yu shu’s hairpin, ring, and cash into the inner pocket of his coat.

“Tell me, Ning Zhe—what do we do next?” Feng Yu shu asked, tying her thick, flowing black hair into a neat bun with the bodhi seed bracelet she had worn on her right hand.

Ning Zhe held the wutong hairpin between his fingers, examining the golden carving of a phoenix perched on a wutong tree, and said: “He Family Village has two rules.”

“The first is the Snake God. The Snake God informs us daily of fortune and misfortune through the lunar calendar.”

“The second is the ghost. The ghost replaces someone’s identity through some means.”

“He Family Village has two mysteries.”

“The first is the Snake God. We know the Snake God has gone mad, falling ill on a monthly schedule—I’ve witnessed its symptoms—but the cause remains unknown.”

【Mystery 1: Why has the Snake God gone mad?】

“The second is the ghost. We know the ghost cannot kill directly, but it impersonates others to violate taboos, using the Snake God’s blade to kill.”

【Mystery 2: How does the ghost impersonate someone’s identity?】

“The ghost wandering through He Family Village cannot arbitrarily assume anyone’s identity—if it could, we’d all be dead already.”

“Just as the Snake God requires you to violate a taboo to ruin your luck, or a death taboo to kill you outright, the ghost must meet specific conditions to impersonate someone—it requires that person to violate a certain special ‘rule’ before its ability activates.”

Ning Zhe twirled the phoenix-and-wutong hairpin between his fingers, then said: “I now have two paths—discover the cause of the Snake God’s madness, or uncover the rule that triggers the ghost’s identity theft… or solve both. If I do, we might uncover the true nature of He Family Village and find a way out.”

“Sounds dangerous.” Feng Yu shu asked, her thick black hair now tied into a practical bun: “Which one do you start with?”

Snake God? Or the ghost?

“Neither.” Ning Zhe shook his head: “I’m tired. I need to rest first. We’ll decide after sunrise.”

“Huh?” Feng Yu shu was stunned.

Ning Zhe smiled at her: “Thinking is exhausting. So, Auntie, keep watch for me.”

“Oh…”

Confused, Feng Yu shu followed Ning Zhe out of the ancestral hall, climbed onto the roof via the narrow alley piled with firewood and chairs. The damp tiles felt cool and slippery. He rolled over and lay down on the roof, pulled a silk scarf from her small purse, draped it over his face to block the moonlight, closed his eyes, and fell asleep immediately. When faced with trouble, sleep it off.

“What kind of person is this?” Feng Yu shu felt uneasy, yet half-amused, watching Ning Zhe, face covered in silk, already asleep.

She turned to look back at the narrow alley they’d climbed—filled with firewood, dismantled old folding round tables, leaning against the ancestral hall’s outer wall. The aged wood, damp with moisture, was speckled with mold.

“Why are there so many tables and chairs beside the ancestral hall?” Feng Yu shu wondered, wanting to ask Ning Zhe—but found he was already asleep.

Youth is wonderful—fall asleep the moment your head hits the pillow… unlike me, who needs sleeping pills just to get a decent rest.

I wonder how Zhang Yangxu and Ye Miaozhu are doing now. Have they found the ‘exit’?

I wonder how Bai Zhi is doing. Has she noticed her mother is gone? Is she worried? And… and…

Perhaps the sheer volume of shocks she’d endured, the frequency and intensity of her emotional swings, had finally worn down her taut nerves. As exhaustion settled over her spirit, the crisp evening breeze swept through the streets and alleys. She pulled her clothes tighter, and drifted into a drowsy sleep.

The fat, white moon, like a silkworm larva, wriggled slowly across the night sky. Dawn arrived; a blazing sun rose from the hills east of the basin.

Feng Yu shu blinked open her eyes from a deep, prolonged slumber, instinctively moving her limbs—only to feel stiffness, as if bound by something. A deep dread jolted her awake. She sat up: a large red cloth had been draped over her legs, serving as a blanket. It looked painfully familiar.

“Recognize it? That cloth was originally draped over Lin Zhiyuan.” Ning Zhe, sitting beside her, spoke casually: “I told you to keep watch for me, yet you slept deeper than I did—and you kept crawling over me for warmth. So I found you a blanket.”

“Don’t thank me. Just cooperate with my instructions later.”

“...Sorry, what… what instructions?” Feng Yu shu rubbed her sleepy eyes and asked quickly.

Ning Zhe pointed downward: “Look over there.”

Feng Yu shu followed his gaze. Across the street, a small shop with previously shuttered doors had opened. Slowly, a woman’s head emerged—her hair pinned with a cloud-shaped hairpin, a square yellow paper pasted over her face. She was clearly the shopkeeper.

Even across the street, Ning Zhe’s sharp eyes could read the characters on the yellow paper:

【He Huifen】

The woman with her name written on her face stepped out and headed straight toward the ancestral hall, her tiny feet tapping hurriedly.

She was not alone. Nor was her shop the only one to open.

Feng Yu shu, still covered by the ancestral altar’s tablecloth, watched in shock: as the moon set and the sun rose, the entire silent street—and indeed, all of He Family Village—had “awakened.”

Homes, pharmacies, tea shops… doors opened one after another. Faces pasted with yellow paper emerged, all moving toward the ancestral hall in unison.

They walked in silence, converging into a vast, flowing tide.

Each bore a different name on their paper: He Runsheng, He Quanyou, He Rongqiu… Every name began with “He.” Each He family member moved stiffly, limbs awkward, footsteps stumbling like puppets on strings.

“The people of He Family Village aren’t real people—they’re more like side effects of some rule. If I could, I’d avoid them entirely.”

Ning Zhe shook his head and pulled Feng Yu shu down beside him, lying flat to avoid being spotted by the few villagers who had idly tilted their heads to look up at the sky.

(End of Chapter)