Chapter Twenty-One: Advancing Step by Step

After the village chief finished asking, no one spoke for a long while inside the house. Growing impatient, the chief snapped, “What’s the matter? Do I have to call on each of you by name?”

Someone murmured, “Why don’t we do it the old way?”

“Nonsense!” someone else cursed loudly. “If we follow the old way, how many people will die? Maybe your family doesn’t care because you’ve no descendants left, but others still have wives and children!”

As soon as those words were spoken, the room erupted in argument again.

The chief slammed the table twice in quick succession to quell the noise. “I told you to think of a solution, not to cause a ruckus. Anyone who keeps talking nonsense can get out!”

“The old way won’t do. Does anyone have another idea?”

A quiet voice ventured, “Maybe we should ask that boy? He managed to escape from Lady Qiu Shuang—maybe he knows something?”

Finally, someone said what I’d been hoping for all along. As I heard the door opening, I quickly closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep.

The village chief came over and shook me awake, feigning concern. “Child! You’ve suffered!”

“Tell your uncle, how did you make it back here?”

The chief must have thought I couldn’t hear their conversation through the wall. In fact, after years of training with Hu Sanqi, my hearing, sight, and strength surpassed most people’s. As long as they didn’t intentionally lower their voices, I could hear every word.

I began to cry as I spoke, “Uncle, I saw a ghost. Old Man Guo was killed by the ghost, too.”

“Last night, while I was sleeping, a female ghost grabbed me by the throat and dragged me off the kang bed…”

What I told the chief was half-true, half-fabricated, but he couldn’t spot any inconsistencies. I finished by saying, “If I hadn’t learned how to fight spirits from my uncle, I wouldn’t have gotten away.”

The chief’s eyes widened. “You know how to fight ghosts?”

“I do!” I opened my backpack to reveal a steelyard weight and a bayonet. “These things saved my life.”

I’d packed too many things in my two bags—taking everything out would only draw suspicion. Instead, I’d left most of it at Old Guo’s house, bringing only one weight and a knife. The tiger fang, I wore around my neck.

I dared to hide the rest because you could find similar objects anywhere in the village. At worst, I could make up a story and have the villagers replace them; nothing would really be missing.

The village chief inspected the bayonet and weight for a long time before asking, “Tell me, how do you use these things?”

“My uncle said…” This time, I told the absolute truth. The chief nodded frequently as I spoke.

He believed me because, in the old days, people in the Northeast held a certain respect for itinerant tradesmen—as long as they dealt fairly and were skilled, locals wouldn’t trouble them.

Back then, the Northeast was vast and sparsely populated. Villages were separated by miles, and it wasn’t easy for villagers to buy goods, sell forest products, or get repairs done. That’s why there were so many itinerant craftsmen—carpenters, masons, peddlers, tinsmiths, and so on. Whether traveling in small groups or alone, they often had to spend nights on the road.

In those days, when human life was cheap, you were more likely to run into corpses than living people in the wilderness. If you didn’t have some skills, who’d dare sleep in the wild? Over time, these tradesmen became known for reciting incantations and conducting rituals; people thought it best not to offend them.

Once something takes root in people’s minds, it becomes a tool for deception.

After listening to me, the chief tentatively asked, “Boy, do you think the ghost can be killed?”

I considered it. “I think so! But it’ll take more than one person to do it.”

He said, “You rest now. I’ll be in the next room—just call if you need anything!”

He signaled to the others and left with them. As soon as he stepped inside, someone else said, “Uncle, do you really believe that kid? If you ask me, we should just send him back up the mountain. If Lady Qiu Shuang gets her fill, she won’t come down again, right?”

The chief replied, “That worked before she entered the village, but not anymore.”

“Once she’s in the village, one person isn’t enough—she’ll need to feed until she’s satisfied.”

“Remember last time? How many died? Ask anyone my age—during those six months, whose family didn’t have a funeral, who didn’t wear mourning clothes?”

“This time, she doesn’t even go after the old anymore—just the young. Are you willing to gamble children’s lives?”

The man was silenced. The chief continued, “I think that boy has some skill. If we follow his plan, we might stop Qiu Shuang.”

“And even if it doesn’t work, we can’t stand by while she preys on our children.”

After the chief spoke, someone stamped his foot and cursed, “Damn it all! Let’s do it! I’ll go!”

The chief said, “This is our village’s problem—every family must send three able-bodied men. Choose who yourselves. Meet at the village office in the morning. Go on home now!”

When the chief said three men per family, he meant each surname clan, not each household. In rural villages, people with the same surname are all considered kin. Even a small village has at least three surnames; larger ones might have five or six. That meant at least ten men would head to the mountain the next day.

Once I heard the chief had made his decision, I finally slept. That night, lamps burned in the village until dawn. By morning, twelve sturdy men had gathered at the village office.

The chief woke me, fed me breakfast, then asked how to fight the spirit. I listed the common ghost-fighting items found in the village, and soon everyone was busy gathering them.

Everyone knew this was a matter of life and death—none dared be careless. By dusk, each man had a large bundle of tools ready.

In truth, I knew half those items were useless, but I kept silent. The villagers were already terrified of Qiu Shuang in the mountain—if I told them their weapons were ineffective, even if half didn’t run away, their morale would collapse. Then what would I use to face Qiu Shuang?

When noon arrived, the chief gathered the men, and we set out for the mountain.

Once we passed Old Guo’s lookout hut, the chief positioned me in the middle of the group. He claimed it was for my safety, but in truth, he wanted to keep an eye on me.

Feigning ignorance, I asked, “Uncle, are we really going to find that thing in the mountains like this?”

“We have to find her lair and burn it. Just don’t get lost.”

“We’ll find it, we’ll find it…” the chief replied, but his eyes darted nervously. It was obvious he was thinking up ways to deceive me.