Chapter Thirty-five: The Events of That Year, Part Three

The second-in-command took another sip of wine before continuing:

The chief waited for the old beggar for several days without seeing any sign of him, and in the meantime, trouble erupted within our gang. In just those few days, five or six of our men went mad, one after another. Someone, in the middle of a meal, jabbed out the eyeball of the person next to him with his chopsticks. Another, fetching water, chopped the head of the man turning the winch straight into the well…

The worst of all was when one man, rising in the middle of the night to relieve himself, returned carrying a bundle of explosives, lay down on the kang, and pulled the fuse under the covers. By the time anyone noticed, the fuse couldn’t be snuffed out, no matter how hard they tried. Out of the whole room, only two survived.

All of us were convinced that the cursed box had brought disaster, so the chief hurriedly sent for the old beggar. Yet the men we dispatched reported that the old beggar had vanished without a trace.

Now, that treasure box became a burning coal in the chief’s hands: he couldn’t bear to throw it away, but keeping it was deadly.

After much deliberation, the chief remembered a black market shop called Harmony Hall, whose proprietor was rumored to be a master of the occult, fearless of taking in any cursed object. Sometimes, he’d even pay thirty percent above the market price for such items.

So the chief went to Harmony Hall with a few men, but the shopkeeper tried to cheat us out of our goods. In a fury, the chief and our brothers retaliated, and both sides ended up trapped inside Harmony Hall.

We were bracing for a desperate fight with the soldiers and police outside when the old beggar suddenly returned with the treasure box. He explained to the chief that the shopkeeper at Harmony Hall had intended to give the box to a forger to have a fake made overnight, planning to swap it. The old beggar caught them in the act, killed both the forger and the shop’s men, and reclaimed the box.

He said that under interrogation, one of the shop’s men revealed the existence of a secret passage in Harmony Hall. So the old beggar led us out through the secret way.

Once we reached safety, the chief finally asked where the old beggar had been all those days.

He replied that he’d carried the corpse of the three-eyed python to the Wan family estate, and there exchanged news of the treasure box.

That box was indeed a cursed object; unless it found its destined owner, anyone who held it would die. The only way to save oneself was to open the box.

The old beggar said he’d traded the news of the box’s key with the Wan family, and in return, they gave him four maps, each detailing the whereabouts of one key. To find the keys faster, we needed to split into four groups.

So, according to the old beggar’s plan, the chief sent us out in four directions to find the keys. I followed my map and came to this Hidden Horse Cave—now you know how I ended up here.

The second-in-command gave a bitter smile as he finished his tale.

I pressed on calmly, “Where did the others go? Do you know?”

“I don’t know!” he shook his head. “Our rule is, if the chief doesn’t say, you don’t ask—same for everyone, no exceptions.”

His answer made me instinctively sense something amiss.

According to what he’d said, the old beggar should have been utterly loyal to the Clear Breeze Society. Even if he’d stayed away to uncover the truth about the Spirit Hall Box, why hadn’t he notified Xu Zhenshan immediately upon learning that the black market boss planned the swap? Why wait until after both sides had suffered heavy losses before intervening?

Just this one point made the old beggar’s motives highly suspicious. I even began to doubt whether the one who returned was truly the old beggar.

I probed, “Second-in-command, from what you said, this old beggar knows some sorcery! Who is he, really?”

He laughed heartily. “What leader of any reputable gang doesn’t know a bit of magic? If the old beggar didn’t have some knack for divination, the chief wouldn’t have made him our strategist.”

“I’ve heard him say before that he learned his skills at the Wan family estate. I asked him what kind of place that was, but he wouldn’t say. And with things like that, it’s better not to pry, right?”

Seeing no more could be gleaned, I dropped the questioning. The second-in-command finished his last mouthful of wine and saluted, “Young friend, thank you. Our paths now part—farewell, perhaps never to meet again.”

I returned the gesture, and after a final nod to Hu Sanqi, he strode out of the cave.

I watched his figure vanish into the darkness and couldn’t help sighing.

Hu Sanqi grinned. “So young, and already sighing at life’s sorrows?”

“He’s a true man,” I replied.

Though only a bandit, he had departed with such composure and grace. Knowing he would soon meet his death, he chose, like a tiger in its twilight, to find a quiet place to await the end—never letting anyone see him fall. That was a tiger’s last shred of dignity.

Hu Sanqi chuckled, “If he can accept it, why can’t you? Remember this, Xiao Yun: no matter which school you join in the future, in the end, what we cultivate is the Supreme Path of Ruthlessness. In life, one does not need so much sentiment.”

I couldn’t truly grasp Hu Sanqi’s words, but since he had spoken, I could only nod.

I followed Hu Sanqi to the mouth of the cave and halted. “Godfather, there are still a lot of paper figures outside.”

He said, “With Qiushuang gone, do you think those paper figures can still move? Don’t worry, we can go.”

I added, “Where did all those paper figures come from?”

He laughed. “You really haven’t seen a grand household’s funeral, have you?”

“Paper figures, to speak plainly, are servants for the deceased. In truly prestigious families, they must create paper figurines for every servant in a prince’s household—from the steward down to the maids and old women, not a single one left out. At great funerals, these paper figures are counted by the hundred.”

“Carriages, horses, boats, and sedan chairs are just means of transport in the world of the living, but in the underworld, they hold a special status. At funerals, paper horses lead the way, followed by a procession of paper people. All these paper figures came with Qiushuang—now that she’s gone, they naturally disperse.”

I pressed further, “Then the murderous ghost on the mountain just now—was it also one of these paper figures?”

Hu Sanqi explained patiently, “Remember, ghosts and evil spirits are just like people: the stronger you are, the more followers you’ll have, willing to serve you and seek your protection. So, wherever powerful evil spirits are found, gangs like ours spring up around them.”

“The stronger the evil you face, the less likely you’ll encounter them alone. If you can’t even handle their underlings, don’t even think about confronting the spirit itself—just worry about running for your life.”

He was right; weren’t the demon-faced tumors in the Tower of Children divided into factions?

If I waited too long to return and face them, would they have gathered even more monsters?

Clearly, I needed to go back as soon as possible—the longer I waited, the greater the danger.