Although the letter had been composed in a great hurry, its contents were not to be taken lightly. The Taipu had considered her words carefully: not once in the letter did she mention the "person highly similar to the Great Priest", as, to a certain extent, it was rather disrespectful to do so.
No one in the entire Ministry dared to be so informal toward the Great Priest. To their knowledge, the Great Priest had always been highly reserved, and whenever he appeared, he carried an intimidating and unapproachable aura.
Although the Great Priest had brought the Taipu and Taizhu into the Ministry as children, even after all these years, he remained a distant and holy figure who could not be touched nor disobeyed.
"Your letter..." the Taizhu said carefully as they got ready to leave.
The Taipu did not need to hear his full sentence to know what he wanted to say. "I'm not that stupid," she said. "I only said that the man we were looking for has died. If all goes well with the dove, it should arrive at the Ministry by tomorrow evening. Even if the weather turns bad, it will definitely be there by the day after tomorrow. Once the Great Priest reads the letter, he will know what to do, and we will simply obey. Until then, let us take care of the matter at hand."
Their powers were limited, and they'd had to use a dove to send their letter. But the Great Priest was different –– if he had a message to send, he would simply burn it with a flame and they would immediately receive it on the other end, with no delay at all.
So if they wanted to check if the Great Priest was still located at the Ministry, the longest they had to wait was two days.
"To be fair, once we enter the village and meet that person, something is bound to happen," the Taizhu said in a low voice. "After all, not anyone can pretend to be the Great Priest."
Although they were not the Great Priest's official disciples, by this point, they were in all but name. They lived in the Ministry –– ate all their meals there and had received all their education there –– but the Great Priest did not like being around others, and was often shut away in the secret courtyard. Yet they were still the people who saw the Great Priest the most: from childhood and youth to now, in all those years, they had long learned the intricacies of the Great Priest's habits and idiosyncrasies.
If they could say so themselves, even if the Great Priest put on his mask and stood in a crowd of a million people dressed in the same manner, they would still be able to pick him out.
Writing that letter was really just a formality –– a way to ease their minds.
The two looked at each other again and decided not to delay further. They kicked their stirrups and the long train trotted toward that small village on the south side of Dustpan Mountain...
*****
Deep inside the village, a small one-bedroom hut stood beneath the shade of an old loquat tree. On either side of the hut's door were two strings of dried garlic and dried peppers, woven into a design around the rope that bound them.
There was some kind of design to the strings –– they did not appear to have been casually strung up to dry the goods. As Xue Xian and Xuanmin approached the hut, they could smell a smoky stench on the strings.
This was the home of the Uncle Qu that the soldier had mentioned.
Xue Xian walked to the door. He did not immediately knock on the door –– instead he scrunched up his nose and sniffed at the strings, frowning. Then he covered his nose with his sleeve and said, "Blood. From many years ago."
Xuanmin had always been repulsed by such things, so he reached out and yanked Xue Xian back, as though, if Xue Xian stood by the strings any longer, that smell would seep into him too.
The two were still invisible, and ordinary people could not see them nor hear them. In the instant that Xuanmin pulled Xue Xian away from the door, a man wearing a thick winter coat holding the hand of a small child walked by Uncle Qu's door.
That child had tried to take a look at the hut, but the man had forcibly dragged it away, as though the hut were covered in some pestilent disease.
"How many times have I told you? Don't get too close," the man scolded the child.
The child said, "Oh," and obediently turned his neck back around and followed the man away, though his eyes continued to dart back at the hut.
At the same moment, another pair –– a woman and her son –– happened to be walking back into the village after having been to see the commotion at the village gate. As the woman passed the man and his child, she nodded in greeting and, similarly, dragged her son farther away from the hut...
"People in this village seem not to really like this Qu guy," Xue Xian muttered.
He had intended to wait for the people to pass before going up to knock on the door, but in that instant, the rickety old door creaked open by itself.
A man with a shrunken mouth stuck his head out from the door and looked around vacantly. His eyes fell on the spot where Xue Xian and Xuanmin stood. Although his eyes were murky and his pupils appeared rather unfocused, Xue Xian still got the feeling that the man was looking directly at them, or could at least sense their presence.
"Who is it? Why are you standing by the door? If you don't come in, I'm going to close the door," the man lisped.
He seemed to be slightly deaf himself, so his words rung out loudly, enough for the other villagers to hear.
"Let's go, let's go. Old Qu is about to have another hallucination," the man said in a low voice as he herded his child away –– quickly followed by the mother and her son.
In the blink of an eye, the street in front of the hut became empty.
"Tsk––" Old Qu was clearly a rather grumpy man. He held the door open, but seeing that no one was coming in, he muttered angrily and made to close the door.
But just before the door slammed shut, Xue Xian reached out his hand and blocked it.
"Would it be possible to take temporary shelter in your home, please?" he asked.
Old Qu was shocked. "Are you a human or a ghost?"
But before Xue Xian could respond, he suddenly yelled, "Of course you're not a ghost. My spirit-repelling strings are right there. Ghosts wouldn't dare come near me... Who are you? What are you doing here?"
"We have some questions," Xue Xian replied.
Still gripping the door, Old Qu did not let them in. "What about?"
"We heard that you come from Xia Mountain, Langzhou." Xue Xian didn't really care whether the old man was going to let them in or not. Actually, the hut was rather small, and to enter, he and Xuanmin would have to bend their heads anyway. If they could get all the information they needed standing outside, then it would save them the trouble and back pain.
Old Qu nodded and said, "Yes, and?"
"Earlier, as we were accompanying a brother to his home, he mentioned something. As a child, he'd heard you say that the Xia Mountain, Langzhou area produced magic medicine?"
Puzzled, Old Qu listened to Xue Xian speak, then stroked his chin. Finally, he stepped away from the door. "Let's talk inside," he said. "I have bad legs and get tired from standing up too long."
Old Qu seemed to have lived alone in the hut for many years. The room had not been tidied for who knew how long, nor had the windows ever been opened to let in fresh air, so that it was filled with a sour smell. Just the sour smell would have been fine, but the hut also reeked of garlic.
As Old Qu pushed the door open, the stench attached Xue Xian's nose.
Xue Xian thought, Actually, could we just stay standing out here...
He grimaced and held his breath as he bent slightly to enter the doorway. He grasped the reluctant Xuanmin and pulled him into the hut too.
Taking advantage of a brief moment during which Old Qu had his back turned to them, Xue Xian yanked Xuanmin's pristine robe, bringing it to his nose and taking a deep breath from it. Now he felt a little better.
Old Qu was not a good host. He did not invite the two to sit down, and in fact there was no other place to sit in the hut.
"What magic pill are you after?" he said as he settled into a chair and squinted suspiciously at them. "There are many rare herbs in the Langzhou area, and some magic pills aren't even considered that miraculous."
"A pill that can extend one's life, or exchange the fortunes of two lives?" Xue Xian asked tentatively.
Old Qu eyed them for a long time, then finally said, "Such pills are rumored to exist. But there is more than just one type. They say that there are two types, which are extremely similar, but with vastly different effects. One extends life, and the other is harmful. They even say there is a type of pill that can link together three lives... I don't know what that is, and I've never seen it. All I've heard are stories," he rambled.
"Do you know where that pill comes from?" Xue Xian asked.
Old Qu did not disappoint –– he actually did roughly give them a location. "The Cave of a Hundred Insects!"
Xue Xian nodded. "Good. Do locals know where the Cave of a Hundred Insects is located? If so, we will wait until we've arrived in Langzhou to ask."
"Oh no!" Old Qu exclaimed, waving his hands. "If you do ask, I don't think anyone will be able to tell you."
Xue Xian frowned. "Why not?"
"You have no idea how poisonous those insects are. Just hearing that name, Cave of a Hundred Insects, will make you lose half your lifespan. Besides, who would give so much thought to a bunch of unsubstantiated rumors?" Old Qu said. "The only reason I know about it is because my ancestor was a witch doctor, and loved to mess about with such things. To be honest, the two of you have come to just the right person. Only I can tell you where to go."
He began to outline something on his palm with his index finger. "Once you get to Xia Mountain, you go here and go to the southwest side of the mountain. There are three peaks there, and one of them has a curved cliff. The Cave of a Hundred Insects is near there, but I'm not sure how to get there. Perhaps you have to jump off the cliff. If you have some life left in your destiny, perhaps you should try."
Life... that's the one thing they didn't lack.
Xue Xian scoffed. That's not hard, he thought. If it comes down to it, we'll search every corner of that cliff. It's no big deal to me and Xuanmin.
Indeed, when they'd been talking about magic pills, Xue Xian had still been skeptical. But now, they were talking about a "Cave of a Hundred Insects", which seemed to be the right track: the thing on Xuanmin's neck was called a "Spider of the Same Age", after all, which was definitely related to insects.
Obviously, it was ridiculous to think that a simple insect could help to extend or exchange one's life. But if an insect secreted some kind of venom, and that venom was combined with a talisman or some other more evil magic, perhaps it really could have some effect. But this spell probably only benefited one of the parties, and the other one would probably greatly suffer.
Having gotten the information they needed, the two did not linger. Before he left the hut, Xue Xian scanned that rotting mess of a room and surreptitiously dropped a few golden beads in a pouch that hung near the door –– consider it payment for the information.
Old Qu was eccentric, but not inherently unlikeable nor troublesome. He did not try to ask Xue Xian what they were going to do now, nor did he even get up to walk them to the door. But as Xue Xian pulled the wooden door open and made to step outside, that old man murmured something as though in a dream: "But I have to say... even if you do find that thing, it's best not to use it. One of my ancestors was a romantic. They say that he wanted to extend his life, or perhaps bring someone back from the dead, I don't remember, but in the end the results were devastating. He might as well have died. I don't know what he was trying to do..."
Then he chuckled self-deprecatingly and added, "But I say that to everyone, and no one believes me. They all say I'm crazy. Now that you've heard me say it, you may leave. Go... I'm going to take a nap."
"I'm not that bored as to do something like that. Besides, extend my life even further? That would be a bit much," Xue Xian muttered absent-mindedly in response to the man. He saluted Old Qu, then herded Xuanmin out the door.
There was no need to stay any longer in the village, so they immediately began to take a route that led them back out to the village gate. As they came upon that pond again, Xue Xian couldn't help but glance at that mud hut, and saw the soldier's spirit dutifully standing guard by the door, seemingly planning to stay there forevermore.
In truth, Xue Xian could not really relate to such strong, passionate emotions, whether those of Old Qu's "romantic" ancestor, or that weeping soldier –– he found himself unable to empathise with the feelings that their actions so clearly demonstrated.
He had met one other military man before, perhaps six or seven years ago now.
It was a great desert in the far north of the land. By order of the natural structure of the universe, he had gone there to bring about a bit of rain. When he arrived, he saw that beneath the strong winds that sent spirals of sand into the air were countless skeletons. Destroyed military carriages and ragged war flags, as well as tattered, empty uniforms, were strewn across the desert.
That soldier had been sitting by one of the ruined carriages, with one of his legs bent and propped up against the carriage wheel. His head tilted, he had been gazing at one of the torn flags.
Xue Xian had only needed a glimpse to know that this was a lost soul who had already been there for at least half a year. The others had departed long ago, leaving only him –– clearly something was had been keeping him here. Xue Xian was lazy, and did not have enough sympathy for others to consider even approaching the man. He had planned to simply send down a storm and then leave, but the lost soul had actually called out to him.
Perhaps because he'd been there for too long, the soul's mind was rather dazed. He seemed not to realise who Xue Xian was, and merely tugged at his sleeve while rambling on and on. Like that soldier whose soul had lingered on the dog tag, he'd spoken in bits and pieces, and had been difficult to understand.
Xue Xian always did things depending entirely on his mood, and on that day, the sight of all those corpses had made him a bit sad –– so he tolerated the soul's mutterings and listened to the man speak for a long time. Overall, the man had really said two things: If only we'd won this battle... and, I don't dare to depart.
"You're not even afraid of death. Why would you be afraid to depart?" Xue Xian had asked.
That lost soul had gone on for a bit longer in explanation, and it had taken a while for Xue Xian to understand: The man had been afraid that, if he departed, he would have to move on to his next life, but his wife would remain stuck in this life. He'd been afraid that he'd never see her again.
"You can't see her if you remain here either," Xue Xian had replied. "You're bound to this land. You can't go home."
The lost soul had given him a tragic look, and then explained some more: If only he could remember her in his next life, then he'd be able to go find her, and that would make things better. If he was lucky, then perhaps they could meet as children, and he could watch her slowly grow up from a little girl to a young woman, and then he could marry her. They didn't have to experience all that drama like couples did in plays –– he only wanted to live a long and ordinary life with her. Ideally... there would be no war...
As Xue Xian listened to the man's pathetic rambling and looked out at that field corpses, he was surprised to find that he was not annoyed.
Before he left, he gave the lost soul a long piece of rope.
"Why have you given me a rope? I'm already dead. I can't hang myself," the soul had asked idiotically.
Xue Xian had snapped, "Tie that around your wrist and make a mark. Don't you want to find someone in your next life? Although there's no way for you to remember all of these random details, but at least a clear mark can act as a reminder. Perhaps if you try hard enough, you really will be able to find her."
The soul had lingered for so long purely for this reason, so now that his problem had been solved, he had not delayed. After Xue Xian had left, he, too, had departed.
And today, when Xue Xian caught sight of that soldier, he thought back to the man in the desert. Although six or seven years had passed, he still could not understand how someone could feel an emotion so deeply that they could refuse to move on even after death.
But, as his mind drifted through these casual thoughts, he unconsciously glanced back at Xuanmin.
"What is it?" Noticing Xue Xian's gaze, Xuanmin, walking slightly ahead, paused in his steps.
As Xue Xian's mind returned to the present, he discovered that he had been staring at Xuanmin's back. "Oh," he muttered as he looked away. "Nothing. I thought of a passerby."
"Passerby?" Xuanmin's eyes flitted toward the pond, then back onto Xue Xian.
But Xue Xian was already staring at the road ahead. "Let's get out of –– Someone's there!"
Having just left the village, they had removed their invisibility spell, and would soon leave the mountain path entirely. But in the middle of Xue Xian's sentence, he had noticed a long, white carriage train on the path ahead.
"What kind of family has such a long funeral train?" Xue Xian muttered. But then he saw the flags attached to the carriages, and the two characters on the flags: Taichang.
As he and Xuanmin stopped in their tracks, before they could even see the faces of the newcomers, Xue Xian heard the clear and bright voice of a woman say, "Descend from your horses."
Next, around a hundred people shuffled over to them and bowed in a deeply polite greeting.