Linbiangui Village-Infinite Streaming Chapter 33

Seeing no time to waste, Chen Jin quickly rose and rushed out the door. The funeral procession hadn’t gone far. The two people at the end of the line held long staffs with copper bells, swaying them left and right, the ding-dong sounds echoing throughout the street. As if sensing something, they slowly turned their heads as they walked. They had two faces painted stark white, with only the corners of their mouths smeared and elongated with red clay. From a distance, they looked like two grinning clowns from an American horror story.

“Don’t follow too closely.” Wu Zeng reached out and grabbed the back of Chen Jin’s collar. His cold thumb brushed against Chen Jin’s neck, causing a shiver. “Following a funeral without an invitation… is impolite.”

Wu Zeng’s words flowed past Chen Jin’s ears without leaving a trace. Chen Jin just stared blankly at the receding procession. Those two white-faced pallbearers were clearly Uncle Liao and Sister Li. Uncle Liao’s cloudy eyes reflected Chen Jin’s panicked retreat. The white banner in Sister Li’s arms floated in the air, her eyes dull and vacant. The poor-quality white clay on her face mixed with sweat and streaked down, only to be wiped away immediately by her withered fingers.

“Ding.” Chen Jin’s phone suddenly received a message. He fumbled in his pocket and pulled it out—New County Head Li Ming Ming actively promotes beneficial projects, Mengle Village road upgrade completed!

“Clap.” Something fell out of his pocket with his movement—it was the shriveled mushroom the old woman from Changlin had placed on the table earlier. Wu Zeng bent down to pick it up. The mushroom was tightly contracted and wrinkled, completely devoid of moisture, yet it reflected a cold, pearl-like sheen in the sunlight.

“Here.”

Chen Jin silently accepted the shriveled mushroom, exactly as he had seen it in his earlier trance.

The procession walked further and further away, but the destination seemed to be the lofty Mountain God Temple.

“They seem to be heading toward the Mountain God Temple,” Wu Zeng said, using the tip of his shoe to push aside a plastic wrapper from disposable chopsticks discarded by the roadside.

“That’s right. According to custom, the body is kept at home for three days before burial, but since the temple was built, it has become very effective. Most people choose to place the deceased there for a day. Firstly, it removes bad luck, and secondly, it offers protection.” The proprietress chased them out of the shop, holding a QR code and smiling, indicating that they hadn’t paid yet. “Moreover, the old woman had been nagging Master Wu Qi to help her with this temple for a long time. If she didn’t go on this final journey, she definitely wouldn’t be able to rest easy.”

In front of the village boundary marker.

The small courtyard of the old woman from Changlin was eerily silent. Old fishing gear, covered in cobwebs and almost dried out by time, was still placed by the porch. The main building’s door was slightly ajar, and there were some rustling sounds inside.

Wu Zeng knocked lightly twice on the door. The sounds inside instantly ceased. He then pushed open the creaking wooden door, only to see three extremely similar men staring at the newcomers with fear—it was the A Bai brothers.

“Cough, cough.” The smell of incense, charcoal, and herbal medicine mixed with white smoke drifted out of the room, causing Chen Jin to cough twice involuntarily.

“You are…” Bai Lao Er put down the broom he was fiddling with and then stamped out the incense burner on the floor, sparks crackling twice. Memories of their late-night encounter years ago flooded his mind. “Did you come looking for… or, or did Aunt San Rong say you were here to help?”

Wu Zeng leaned against the door frame and smiled. He pulled an oil-paper package from his pocket and placed it on the table. Bai Lao San twitched his nose, smelled the aroma, and ran over. After all these years, the third brother had grown tall but still had a child’s mind, easily delighted by a piece of candy. “Brother, candy!”

Bai Lao San’s fingers had just touched the edge of the oil paper when his eldest brother glared at him. He reluctantly withdrew his hand, watching eagerly as Wu Zeng untied the string. Twelve pieces of sesame brittle, glistening with an oily sheen, were instantly revealed. The sweet aroma overpowered the strong herbal scent filling the room.

Wu Zeng smiled and handed him a piece. Bai Lao San looked back cautiously at his eldest brother’s expression. Seeing no reaction, he happily accepted it and retreated to a corner to eat.

“I didn’t know you were here. For saving my life, I can only thank you with this brittle for now.” Wu Zeng spoke lightly. The only person he truly wanted to thank was that one person. Since the Sha Country poison had never truly taken effect, the brothers’ act of saving him was moot, and his words were naturally just perfunctory pleasantries.

“The whole village heard the landmine go off that day. Aunt San Rong even told us to go look for you two. You were really lucky,” Bai Lao Da glanced at the newcomers, his face sullen as he beat the bedding with a wooden stick—this was a Mengle Village custom after a death, especially for elderly people who died in their sleep, to beat the bedding to encourage the soul to follow the body. A small copper scale hung from his waist, which struck the corner of the table with his movements, emitting a harsh metallic tremor.

Presumably dissatisfied with Wu Zeng’s attitude, Bai Lao Da’s words now carried some hostility, unlike his easygoing manner years ago. After a moment, he lifted his head from the bedding and stared directly at Wu Zeng, saying, “Thank you for the candy. We will savor it with twelve parts spirit and focus, just like when we saved your life.”

“Thank you again, three young brothers.” Chen Jin’s sole heavily ground Wu Zeng’s instep. Amidst Wu Zeng’s exaggerated gasp of pain, Chen Jin bowed respectfully to the three men. Even if Wu Zeng never needed saving, the three had put in their best effort, and this kindness had to be acknowledged.

The shadow of the wardrobe fell across his stiff back. Bai Lao Da suddenly reached out and supported Chen Jin’s elbow. His palm, rough as sandpaper from years of grinding herbs, softened its touch when it met Chen Jin’s skin.

Wu Zeng, clutching his foot and feigning pain, retreated back to the door frame, standing behind Chen Jin without speaking, his eyes fixed on Bai Lao Da, wondering what he was thinking.

Watching the adults in front of him engage in back-and-forth, cryptic conversation, Bai Lao Er finally plopped down onto the long bench, the broom cradled in his arms, his face full of confusion. “Then what are you here for?”

“We ran into Aunt San Rong’s funeral procession on the road.” Chen Jin stopped after saying this. He wasn’t sure why he insisted on coming to the old woman’s house. Was it to confirm that she had truly passed? It didn’t seem like it.

“So what’s the purpose?” Bai Lao Er pressed on.

“It’s improper to follow a funeral procession, so naturally, we can only come to the house to help out,” Wu Zeng said unhurriedly. “Aren’t you doing the same?”

“No way! Only those who weren’t invited are following the funeral! We are here because we are too young to follow the procession!” Bai Lao Er immediately retorted.

“Oh? So you were invited?”

“…Brother!” Bai Lao Er gnashed his teeth and turned to seek solace from Bai Lao Da.

“Aunt San Rong left all her stored herbs to us before she passed. She didn’t have many relatives, so we naturally have to come and tidy up. Since you’re here to help, then start now.” Bai Lao Da ignored him, speaking only to himself. He then snatched the broom from Bai Lao Er’s hand and tossed it toward Wu Zeng.

No one spoke anymore. Chen Jin took a towel from the table to help wipe down the old wooden cabinet, while Wu Zeng casually scraped the floor with the broom.

Next to the bedroom was a partition, and the light in this room was much dimmer.

In the gloom, Wu Zeng’s broom accidentally hit the wooden cabinet. A ceramic jar placed on the top shelf rattled and then fell with a “smash” from the top.

“What happened!” Bai Lao Da rushed in. He turned on his flashlight and saw a round ceramic jar containing a lot of grayish-white powder with no discernible smell. “It’s incense ash after lighting incense. It has medicinal uses.”

Bai Lao Da called the third brother to come in and collect the powder into a bottle. Chen Jin followed the sound and came in, only to see Wu Zeng giving him a look toward the cabinet.

In the dim light, Chen Jin’s fingertips had just touched the copper handle of the wooden cabinet when a musty smell seeped out through the cracks. He instinctively held his breath, his peripheral vision clearly catching a red light leaking from the cabinet door gap, flickering slightly like a dancing flame. With a grating “creak,” the smell of decaying old wood mixed with a heavy scent of incense ash rushed out.

Inside the cabinet was a shrine, much more elaborate than the rest of the room. Three layers of dark red silk hung inside the cabinet, reflecting a strange sheen in the faint red light. A sacrificial table was set up at the bottom of the cabinet, entirely black, as if soaked in dog blood for a long time. Twisted human figures were carved into the corners of the table—the eyes deliberately hollowed out. On the sacrificial table was a shrine for the Flat-Woven Torch. Three thick, long sticks of high-grade incense were inserted into a bronze toad censer, flanked by two white candles, but the burning flames emitted an eerie red color.

This bizarre scene plunged the area into silence. Chen Jin’s temples throbbed violently. Only now did he deeply realize—a new world had begun.

“Bang!” A sound of a heavy object falling suddenly came from outside the door. Bai Lao Er rushed in in a panic. “Brother, the village boundary marker has been pushed over!”

“Watch out!” Wu Zeng abruptly yanked Chen Jin away. From the spot where Chen Jin had been standing, a flat wooden box suddenly fell from the old ceiling beam. It was unclear how it had been placed there originally.

This room was filled with ominous energy, making it unsuitable for a long stay. Wu Zeng grabbed Chen Jin’s shoulder, picked up the wooden box with one hand, and headed out.

“Where are you taking Aunt San Rong’s things!” Bai Lao Da shouted.

“What are you to me?” Wu Zeng ground the words out from his throat, as if suppressing immense fury, yet his tone strangely lifted at the end, making his emotions inscrutable.

The three brothers followed them out regardless.

Outside, the scorching sun beat down, and the roar of a bulldozer tore through the usual silence at the entrance of Mengle Village. Several town cadres in administrative jackets stood nearby, watching the construction crew work. The rusty bulldozer had already pushed the village boundary marker to the ground, and the mottled characters “Mengle” on the stone surface were split by a hideous crack.

An excavator took over, digging a deep trench right where the marker had stood.

“What are you doing!” Bai Lao Da cried out heartbrokenly.

The old woman from Changlin had lived at the village entrance her entire life. When the people of Changlin benefited Mengle Village years ago, the boundary marker was erected; the stone was almost as old as she was. Now that the old woman was gone, was the marker to disappear too?

“We are acting according to regulations. It should have been demolished long ago, but Zhao Shu Mei’s repeated obstruction delayed the work. Now you have no reason or standing to impede legal procedures.” Two cadres adjusted their glasses and walked up to the group, pulling out an official document from their briefcase: Tourism Road Construction, boundary marker demolition for road expansion. The signatory was—Li Ming Ming.

Was it that Li Ming Ming?

“Aunt San Rong hasn’t even been buried yet, and you’re rushing to tear down the marker. Is this how cadres handle things, so rigid and heartless!”

“You don’t need to lecture me. If you have an opinion, go complain to the town government!” These two cadres were minor leaders, and being pointed at and cursed by an inexperienced young man made them lose face.

“Leader, why don’t you dig a little deeper and see if you can unearth some treasure?” Wu Zeng looked at a red circular pattern on the top of the village boundary marker and sneered.

Chen Jin’s pupils instantly dilated—the people of Changlin revered water; their souls returned to water, and their funerals primarily involved water burial. However, fish burial had been banned in the village years ago, and villagers also ostracized the people of Changlin. So where had their deceased bodies been placed during that time?

The death of the old woman from Changlin seemed to have shattered the order established in the previous two worlds.