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墨書 Inktalez
The night was as dark as ink, and my conversation with Xiaomei echoed in the silence. I had no idea that not far behind the wall, Uncle Wang was quietly standing there. His figure cast a long shadow in the moonlight. After listening to our conversation, he sighed helplessly and returned to his house to rest.
I spent a restless night at Uncle Wang's home. Moonlight filtered through the window, spilling onto the simple bed, and my heart was filled with questions. Early the next morning, I got up and headed into the village, searching for those who might know clues about the situation.
I visited the oldest elder in the village, who sat on his doorstep, gazing vacantly into the distance. I respectfully inquired about some events in the village, but the elder was very cautious and unwilling to speak. I helped him clear weeds by the wall, fed his chickens, and cooked meals. During dinner, he stared at me for a long time before slowly recounting a story.
The man-made disaster from ten years ago was a taboo topic in the village. At that time, a serious conflict occurred in the village, resulting in many casualties. Xiaomei's parents were accused of being traitors; they were suspected of leaking village secrets to outsiders, which led to the disaster. Although they had passed away at that time, the villagers' anger had not subsided. Most villagers insisted on expelling Xiaomei and her grandmother from the village, believing their family was the source of misfortune.
Uncle Wang stood up and said, "Uncle Fang died protecting the village; you want to drive out his wife and children?" Grandpa Li also spoke up: "There’s a saying that misfortune does not extend to wives and children. The the Fang Family is now left alone and destitute; driving them away is cutting off their means of survival. This will only perpetuate hatred."
These words awakened the villagers' conscience; they did not want to repay kindness with enmity. They ultimately decided to let Xiaomei and her grandmother stay. However, staying did not mean acceptance. Fang Xiaomei and her grandmother lived on the fringes of village life; villagers avoided them, and their lives were extremely difficult.
Uncle Wang's son, Wang Zhigang, was different from others. He was naturally kind-hearted and often helped Xiaomei's family despite villagers' prejudices, becoming their only friend and support. "I just didn’t expect him to be like this; he’s a good kid. Even this lonely old man like me, he often comes to help fetch water," he said.
As I listened, my sympathy for Xiaomei deepened further. When I was leaving, the elder asked if I knew an old woman named Qin Zhaodi. "My grandmother is named Qin Zhaodi." The elder looked at me deeply and said, "Indeed." I asked curiously, "What?"
"Nothing much, come by often when you have time." The old man suddenly became very enthusiastic, which was quite puzzling.
On the way back, I unexpectedly saw Uncle Wang carrying a basket of eggs, heading towards a house. I didn't think much of it until much later when Xiaomei returned. It was then that I realized that it was actually Xiaomei's home. I sighed inwardly but buried my questions deep down and didn't ask Uncle Wang.
When I got back to Uncle Wang's house, he led me into a dusty room. Inside were piled up the belongings of Wang Zhigang at the time of his death. Each item had been carefully preserved by him. I was amazed at Uncle Wang's meticulousness; even the stones and dirt from around the scene had been collected.
Uncle Wang pointed to those items and said, "After Zhigang left, I brought back everything I could. I hope to find some clues." I examined each item seriously, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary to my naked eye. I took out the Bagua Mirror and began to calculate. The light in the mirror flickered on the dirt basin. I asked Uncle Wang, "Does anyone know you dug up this dirt?"
Uncle Wang shook his head, "No, I dug it up secretly. Afterward, I filled it back in with surrounding soil and used chicken blood to create a similar bloodstain." I couldn't help but admire Uncle Wang's attention to detail. After washing the dirt basin with water, I discovered a tiny bead mixed in with the soil, almost invisible to the naked eye.
"What is this?" I picked up the bead and examined it closely in the light. Uncle Wang leaned in as well; his eyes flickered for a moment before he quickly concealed his reaction. He lowered his head, and I didn't notice anything unusual. Uncle Wang looked up at me and said, "I've never seen this thing before; have you?"
Uncle Wang emphasized "have you" heavily, leading me to believe he was concerned about the truth rather than indifferent. I shone the Bagua Mirror on the bead again, and some strange symbols appeared on its surface; this was definitely not an ordinary object. A thought struck me: this bead could very well be key to understanding Wang Zhigang's cause of death.
I told Uncle Wang, "This bead might be very important; we need to study it further." Uncle Wang nodded, a glimmer of light flashing in his eyes: "If you find anything, don't tell anyone else; just let me know. Not everyone in the village can be trusted." I carefully put away the bead and promised Uncle Wang that I understood.
The truth hidden behind this could be far more complicated than I imagined. I had to proceed with caution and not let any potential clues slip away from my grasp.
As night fell once again, I lay in bed filled with determination. I told myself that no matter how difficult this path might be, I would forge ahead because my trial mission excited me immensely. Every night, I tossed and turned in bed, lost in my thoughts until late into the night.
Tonight, just past midnight, as I was once again deep in contemplation, I suddenly heard faint noises outside my door. Instantly alert, I quietly got up and peered through the crack of the door.
Under the moonlight, I was surprised to find Uncle Wang quietly leaving his house, his figure hurrying through the night.
I was filled with doubt: where could Uncle Wang be going at this late hour? Could it be related to Wang Zhigang's death?
I decided to carefully follow him to see if I could uncover any clues. I put on my shoes and stealthily trailed behind him, maintaining a safe distance.
He arrived at the home of the elderly man I had visited during the day. I carefully observed my surroundings and slowly crept outside the old man's house.
Finding a concealed spot, I held my breath and listened intently to the conversation inside.
Inside, the old man's voice trembled as he asked Uncle Wang what had happened. Uncle Wang's voice was low and tense as he said, "A bead was found at the place where my son was murdered; this thing is related to the disaster from ten years ago."
Hearing this, my heart jolted—this small bead was actually connected to an event from a decade ago? I wanted to hear more, but in my eagerness, I accidentally made a noise.
"Who's there?" someone inside called out alertly.
Then came the sound of hurried footsteps rushing out, and I quickly hid in the shadows.
I silently recited the secret mantra taught by my master Zhao Liang, my fingers swiftly and skillfully tracing several hidden symbols in the air.
As I completed the last symbol, I softly chanted an incantation, merging my breath with the surrounding environment.
The invisibility technique is one of the profound arts in the Mingyang Chamber. It allows me to conceal my form for a short time, evading detection by the naked eye.
I felt a subtle power circulating around me, gradually diminishing my presence as if I had merged with the night itself.
Under the effect of the invisibility technique, I pressed against the wall and slowly approached the old man's window.
The wooden window frame cast mottled shadows in the moonlight; I moved like an invisible wind, weaving through these shadows unnoticed.
I cautiously peered inside and saw that Uncle Wang and the old man looked serious; their conversation made my heart race.
Uncle Wang tightly gripped the bead found at Grandpa Xiao Mei's murder scene, his brow furrowed and his eyes flickering with complex emotions.
Just as I was fully focused on listening, the old man suddenly glanced towards the window; my heart tightened—had my invisibility technique failed?
But then I realized it was my heartbeat that had caught his attention.
I quickly adjusted my breathing, slowing my heartbeat to blend further into the night.
The old man did not notice anything unusual and turned back to continue his conversation with Uncle Wang.
I breathed a sigh of relief and continued to listen to their discussion.
As their conversation deepened, I gradually learned more details about that disaster from ten years ago and its potential connection to Wang Zhigang's death.
I mentally noted every important piece of information, preparing to analyze it carefully once I returned home.
Before their conversation ended and Uncle Wang prepared to leave, I silently slipped away from outside the old man's window.
Using the cover of invisibility, I vanished into the night like a ghost.
Back in my room, I dispelled the invisibility technique. The subtle power gradually dissipated, and my figure reappeared under the moonlight.
Sitting on the edge of my bed, I reflected on everything I had just heard, unable to quell the excitement in my heart.
The story I just overheard flashed through my mind like a series of images, piecing together a long-buried past.
The old man’s surname is Li. When he was thirteen, he found a smooth piece of glass in the mountains, about the size of half a palm and as thick as a little finger. He cherished it and kept it in a cloth bag sewn by his mother, carrying it with him everywhere.
One day at the market, he took it out to play with, but it caught the eye of someone with ulterior motives. That person knew there was a Jade Mine in the mountains, which represented immense wealth. The village decided to report it to the authorities, but that greedy group intercepted the news.
To protect the village, they invited a master to set up a formation. It wasn’t until ten years ago that Xiaomei's parents believed the time was right to report it to the state, but a traitor leaked the information. That group returned to the village, and as a result, Xiaomei's parents lost their lives. The identity of that spy remains unknown to this day.
The villagers mistakenly believed that Xiaomei's parents had attracted the bad people, and Grandpa Li and Uncle Wang had no evidence to clear their names, so they could only swallow their anger. Not everyone in the village was cruel-hearted, but for the safety of their families, they had no choice but to turn a blind eye to Xiaomei and her grandfather.
Wang Zhigang's help made Xiaomei's grandmother very grateful. However, she also warned Wang Zhigang not to assist them, fearing it would bring danger upon him. She similarly advised Xiaomei not to get too close to Wang Zhigang. But how could young love heed such warnings? Especially after Xiaomei's grandmother passed away, her bond with Wang Zhigang deepened even further.
While her grandmother was still alive, they managed to restrain themselves; things were manageable then. But a year later, their relationship became apparent to others, ultimately leading to disaster.
I tossed and turned in bed, unable to calm my excitement. Upon arrival, I discovered that the fog was caused by the formation. I initially thought it would be enough to break the formation, not realizing there were human factors involved as well.
Uncle Wang’s late-night whispers and the tragedy of Xiaomei's family filled me with a heavy sense of responsibility. I must uncover the truth—for Xiaomei, for Uncle Wang, for Wang Zhigang, and for the peace of this village.
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