Chapter 8: The Mystery of Death

The 23rd day of the fourth lunar month, 01:22 a.m.

Gu Yunqing and Ye Miaozhu arrived at the arched bridge downstream of the river, waiting silently for Ning Zhe and Feng Yushu.

Ye Miaozhu leaned against the stone bridge railing, one hand resting on Gu Yunqing’s shoulder, staring at the call log displayed on his phone. The log was short—only two minutes long—and called by Feng Yushu, but the speaker was Ning Zhe.

Ning Zhe conveyed the following three pieces of information in concise terms.

1: Xie Sining is dead; her corpse is floating in this river, cause of death unknown.

2: Something that may not be human has assumed Xie Sining’s identity and is following Zhang Yangxu; motive unknown. 3: That thing used Xie Sining’s phone to call Feng Yushu.

Ning Zhe believed the “thing” called Feng Yushu using Xie Sining’s phone for some hidden, unknown purpose, and their accidental discovery of Xie Sining’s actual corpse by the river had thwarted its intended effect.

Once its goal is achieved, something terrifying may occur.

“Too coincidental,” Ye Miaozhu whispered, her lips brushing Gu Yunqing’s ear.

Gu Yunqing’s ear twitched; he replied in the same low, hoarse voice: “Why?”

“According to Ning Zhe, the ghost impersonating Xie Sining had just called Feng Yushu when they found Xie Sining’s real corpse floating in the river,” Ye Miaozhu said softly. “Don’t you think this is too coincidental?”

“It is indeed a coincidence,” Gu Yunqing said, lifting his chin toward a collapsed gap on the bridge’s surface. “That hole collapsed right as Ning Zhe walked across—it nearly killed him.”

Ye Miaozhu nodded. “Yes, Feng Yushu said it was because Ning Zhe accidentally broke a taboo.”

“But I don’t think it was bad luck,” Gu Yunqing said. “Imagine if the bridge hadn’t collapsed—Ning Zhe and Feng Yushu crossed normally, and Feng Yushu received the fake Xie Sining’s call on her way back to the ancestral hall. Would they have found the corpse?”

“...Hard to say, but probably not.”

“Exactly,” Gu Yunqing hissed softly. “If the bridge hadn’t collapsed, Ning Zhe likely wouldn’t have found Xie Sining’s body, wouldn’t have learned she was dead, wouldn’t have realized she’d been impersonated...”

Gu Yunqing’s tone grew darker: “Ning Zhe’s misstep wasn’t bad luck from breaking a taboo—it was heaven warning him of danger ahead.”

“But Hejia Village has no heaven,” Ye Miaozhu said, her gaze heavy. “Only the Snake God.”

“Yes, only the Snake God—so perhaps it’s helping him. But why would the Snake God help him?” Gu Yunqing turned off his phone and slipped it into his pocket. “Feng Yushu said Ning Zhe broke a taboo and got unlucky—but did she tell you which one?”

Travel? Burial? Mourning? Sacrifice? None of them are known.

“This village is strange,” Ye Miaozhu murmured. “And so are its people.”

“So to survive and get out, we must be on guard for everything,” Gu Yunqing agreed deeply.

They waited a while longer by the bridge when two figures appeared down the road—Ning Zhe and Feng Yushu had finally arrived.

“You’re late,” Gu Yunqing smiled as he greeted Ning Zhe.

“Can’t help it—I broke a taboo today, so I dare not run fast,” Ning Zhe said with a grimace, looking deeply troubled. “I have no idea which taboo I broke, but I’ve been so unlucky I nearly died crossing the bridge.”

“You don’t know which taboo you broke?” Ye Miaozhu grew concerned. “Then we must be careful too. And... are you sure retrieving Xie Sining’s corpse won’t break a taboo?”

Burial, mourning—those all involve the dead.

“It’s possible,” Ning Zhe said calmly. “But we still have to retrieve it.” Ye Miaozhu fell silent.

Indeed, to uncover the mystery shrouding Hejia Village, Xie Sining’s death was an essential clue—better than wandering aimlessly like a fly without a head, even with the risk.

“Let’s go. The river’s current is slow, but it’s been so long—her body must have drifted far.”

Ning Zhe spoke and led the way down the bridge, hurrying downstream along the riverbank. The other three followed.

As Ning Zhe said, the river flowing through Hejia Village moved slowly—so slowly it seemed sluggish. The green willow leaves along both banks drifted onto the water like stickers, gliding downstream, slow and slow.

The four ran downstream along the current, their eyes fixed on the water, seeing the pale moon reflected above and the round pebbles lining the riverbed below.

“Found it.”

After walking a long stretch, Ning Zhe spotted Xie Sining’s body washed ashore on a gentle green stone slope downstream—where the village women washed clothes. Her pale, soaked corpse lay sprawled on the ground like a torn garment.

Everyone hurried forward. Without a word, Gu Yunqing and Ye Miaozhu each took one side of the corpse, lifting it while unbuttoning her clothes to begin the examination.

“The body has been in the water too long—temperature is completely cold; time of death cannot be estimated.”

“No open wounds, no blunt-force trauma or bruising—external injury ruled out.”

“No internal bleeding—likely not caused by internal injury.”

“No significant fluid in the lungs—not drowned. Thrown into the river after death.”

“No signs of poisoning detected so far—poisoning unlikely, but without proper equipment, cannot confirm.”

The more they examined, the deeper their confusion grew.

“No external injuries, not drowned, no poisoning—inside or out, we can’t find Xie Sining’s cause of death,” Ye Miaozhu said, biting her lip, her expression grim. “It’s as if... she died suddenly of acute cardiac arrest—or direct brain death.”

Gu Yunqing gripped Xie Sining’s shoulders, glanced at Ning Zhe’s thoughtful face, then turned to the rippling river. The pale moon floated on its surface; the calm current reflected his own troubled visage.

“What happened? How did Xie Sining die...?”

Gu Yunqing clenched his teeth. The bewildering situation sent chills down his spine. Though he fought to dismiss supernatural nonsense, Hejia Village was clearly a place beyond conventional logic.

“How did Xie Sining die?” Ning Zhe crossed his arms. He knew this question hid a crucial secret—one that might determine whether he could survive here.

As all fell into hazy thought, suddenly, a splash shattered the silence by the moonlit river.

A fresh, warm corpse slid off the stone washing slope and tumbled into the rushing water, splashing pale spray.

Gu Yunqing was dead.

“...What the hell?” Ning Zhe froze.

Was it the ghost impersonating Xie Sining who killed Gu Yunqing? If so, how?

(End of Chapter)