Chapter Twenty-Four: Dreamscape

At this moment, it was already too late to call for help. Everyone in the tent had fallen asleep, and it was likely that before I could wake them, I would succumb to sleep myself. I shook my head vigorously, clutching at the fleeting clarity, and pulled a firecracker from my bag, striking a match twice with trembling hands.

As soon as the faint glow appeared on the match head, my hand refused to obey me; the lit match slipped from my grasp and fell. I felt, as I brushed against someone nearby, that everything around me vanished, and I was left standing alone on the open ground before the temple gate.

I was acutely aware that I had entered a dream, yet I could not rouse myself, as though some invisible force pinned me to the spot, rendering me motionless.

Soon, voices grew louder, and a band of men dressed as bandits entered my field of vision. The leader bore the faint outline of a tiger tattoo across his body.

The Mountain Tiger?

Those with the Mountain Tiger tattoo could only be the second-in-command of a major gang. Back then, to wear such a tattoo was a sign of absolute trust from the chief, as well as a vow to share life and death with the group. After all, "two tigers cannot share one mountain"—no gang would ever allow two men to wear the Mountain Tiger tattoo. So, a Mountain Tiger could not defect to another gang; even if their own group was destroyed, he would have to vanish or perish alongside it.

For him to lead men here, there must be some secretive undertaking afoot.

The lead bandit ran into the temple, glanced around, and said, "Second Boss, this should be the place the Adviser mentioned. Look at those clay statues—neither man nor wolf—it sends chills down my spine just to look at them."

Could these be Qingfenghao’s men?

The only bandits I could think of were from Qingfenghao, and the second-in-command said the Adviser had sent them? But Hu Sanqi had said that when they left the ancestral hall behind the temple, the Adviser hadn't come out with them...

Looking back at the second-in-command, I saw him unfurl a map. "This is the place. Go inside and see if that idol can be moved."

Two bandits, guns at the ready, crept into the temple, while the others took cover nearby, aiming their weapons at the entrance.

Moments later, two shots rang out from within.

The second-in-command, who had just straightened up to peer at the entrance, saw the two who’d gone inside stagger back out. Each had a bloody hole in the center of his forehead, their faces smeared with a ghastly mix of red and white.

Both grinned at the second-in-command, raised their guns, and pointed them at him. Before their weapons could fire, the second-in-command squeezed his trigger: "Aim for their heads!"

He fired while dodging, letting off several rounds. The Qingfenghao men behind him opened up in a wild barrage. The two figures were riddled with a dozen or more bullets before they finally dropped to the ground, motionless.

The second-in-command barked, "Stay back! Toss in grenades and blow the place up."

Someone bundled four or five grenades together and lobbed them into the temple. A thunderous explosion followed; fire, blood, and flesh burst through the temple gate.

Seconds later, thick smoke billowed back into the temple as if sucked by the wind. When the smoke cleared, the little temple was now open from front to back; from the entrance one could see the pitch-black night sky beyond.

The second-in-command ordered, "Prepare ropes. Leave two here to guard the temple, the rest of you come down the mountain with me."

He seemed not to wonder why so much firepower, enough to raze a house, had only blown a hole in the temple. Or perhaps he knew, but had no choice but to proceed.

He led his men down the mountain. The bandits left to guard the temple couldn’t help whispering among themselves. "What’s wrong with the Boss lately? He fought the Black Market gang over a worthless box, lost so many brothers, and still ended up losing the box. Now he has us out here searching for something—won’t even say what. In this godforsaken place, what could there possibly be worth finding?"

"Watch your mouth," the other warned. "If the Boss hears you, we’ll lose our heads."

"Have you noticed how bad his temper’s gotten? Last time, just a few brothers grumbled a bit and he had them all dragged out and shot, begging for mercy did no good. Aren’t you afraid?"

"Well, it’s just us here. Are you going to tell? Am I?"

"True enough!"

"Seems to me, the Boss is haunted. All day long talking about that box, the box..."

"But the box was lost. Why does he keep insisting it’s still around?"

"Exactly! But with the Adviser back, the Boss shouldn’t be haunted, right? The Adviser’s clever—he’s handled all sorts of things before. If he hasn’t said the Boss is in trouble, then nothing major will happen."

"That’s not a sure thing..."

"I think the Adviser’s acting strange, too. We made such a mess over at the Black Market. Even if we didn’t return to the gang, we should have hidden in the mountains, but the Adviser didn’t lead us back at all. Instead, he sent the second, third, and fourth bosses out on errands. That’s not like him."

"And look at the places he’s sent us—who would go there? Hiking through ravines in the middle of the night—he’s sending us to our deaths!"

The first man glared at the other. "What are you babbling about at this hour? Shut your mouth."

The two fell silent, but I had already gleaned the gist.

Xu Zhenshan did indeed lose the ancestral hall’s treasure box at the Black Market, but he never gave up searching for things related to it. Why? Could it be that the box had made its way back to Xu Zhenshan after all?

As I puzzled over this, one of the bandits suddenly straightened. "Dog, do you hear something behind us?"

Dog tensed, gripping his gun tightly. "Isn’t that the sound of someone climbing? Maybe the second-in-command and the others are back?"

"Nonsense!" the first spat. "If they were back, wouldn’t they have called out by now? Turn around and see!"

Dog bristled. "You want me to look? Why don’t you?"

"If we’re going to look, we look together."

Neither dared turn. When there’s a sound behind you in the wild, it’s bad luck to look back. If it’s a beast, turning exposes your throat; a single bite, and your life ends. If it’s the dead, the living lose even more strength by facing them, and stand no chance of keeping ghosts at bay.

Still, the sounds behind them crept closer and closer. At last, the first man, unable to bear it, nodded. "Fine! Together! I’ll count to three..."