Volume Two: A Season of Turmoil, Twists and Turns Chapter 83: Strange Happenings at Home, A Scene of Eerie Peculiarity

The moment they stepped out of the house, Chen San unexpectedly saw a familiar and long-missed figure.

“Chen San.” With a voice thick with tears, Chen Xin ran over and threw her arms around him.

Chen San knew it was Chen Xin who had run to embrace him, but the gesture caught him completely off guard.

Seeing Chen Xin sobbing, Chen San asked, “Chen Xin, what’s wrong? Why are you crying? Where’s your mother?”

Chen Xin’s crying was broken and breathless, and she didn’t answer at first. After a while, she choked out, “All the houses here collapsed. I thought you were dead.”

From childhood, few had ever shown Chen San much care or concern. Hearing how much Chen Xin worried for him filled his heart with a warmth he had rarely known.

“How did you come back alone? Weren’t you supposed to go to your grandmother’s house with Sister Nian?”

Chen Xin started crying again, but this time Chen San felt there must have been something that happened.

“Don’t cry. I’m here. Tell me what happened.”

After wiping her tears, Chen Xin recounted everything to Chen San.

Her grandmother’s home was in Wangjia Village, not far from Chen Family Town. When the town was shrouded in demonic energy, after Old Nian and Wan Fu died, Daoist Wang told the villagers to seek shelter outside town. Those with relatives or friends left for a while.

At that time, Chen Xin and Sister Nian went to Wangjia Village to stay with Sister Nian’s family. There was already a house, and at first everything was fine. The elderly couple were getting on in years, their eyesight failing, so they helped cook, tended the fields, mended things, and life went on.

Sister Nian had a younger brother named Wang Dafu, only fifteen years old, a child born late in their parents’ lives—almost fifty when he was born. He was treasured, but circumstances were tough, and with old age, the couple couldn’t work the fields, so much of the labor fell to Sister Nian’s brother.

After they arrived, Chen Xin helped with the vegetables, occasionally worked the fields, while Sister Nian did most of the cooking. Ten days ago, just when Chen San and the others returned from Jingyao Village, something happened.

Wang Dafu came back from the fields and seemed dazed, muddled, not sick nor poisoned, just listless, sometimes muttering nonsense to himself.

At first, Chen Xin and the others thought he was ill. They even brought in a healer from a neighboring village twice, but nothing was found. With no spare money, they couldn’t call the town’s physician.

They figured he was just tired or delirious, thinking he’d recover soon. But after a few days, Wang Dafu’s rambling didn’t improve—his spirit did, and his appetite grew.

More mouths meant less food. He used to be satisfied with three sweet potatoes and some porridge, but now seven or eight couldn’t fill him. The old couple weren’t stingy, but seven or eight fist-sized sweet potatoes would burst anyone’s stomach. Still, Wang Dafu ate more and was fine; better to eat well than be sickly.

They thought the matter was settled, until one morning Chen Xin found Wang Dafu crouched at the family’s well, peering intently inside, almost as if entranced, his head nearly disappearing down the opening.

Fortunately, Wang Dafu was too big to fit down the well. If Chen Xin had seen him just a bit closer, she would have thought he meant to jump.

The well was pitch dark—what was there to see? He didn’t draw water, just stared. He didn’t even notice Chen Xin come out, which made her uneasy. After waking her mother and telling her what happened, Sister Nian grew anxious. Their husband had only recently died; if her brother came to harm, what would become of them?

She hurriedly dressed and went outside to the well. Wang Dafu had no reaction, just stared as Chen Xin described, seeing nothing else. Sister Nian grew more unsettled. No water drawn, no words spoken, no movement—she braced herself and shook Wang Dafu’s clothing.

Wang Dafu looked up at Sister Nian. “Do you want to see?”

Sister Nian recoiled in fear at Wang Dafu’s face—so different from his usual honest, naive expression.

“No, no, I don’t want to see. Dafu, don’t scare your sister. What’s so interesting about the well?”

“Heh heh, it’s beautiful, beautiful. We’ll look together in the future,” Wang Dafu said in a chilling voice, then bent his head to peer back into the well. Those few words in the morning made Chen Xin and Sister Nian’s legs tremble.

It wasn’t just the sinister tone; even his voice seemed to have changed. Though Chen Xin had only met her younger uncle for the first time after marrying out, after living together for nearly twenty days she knew his voice well enough.

Chen Xin pulled Sister Nian back inside and whispered, “Mother, uncle seems wrong. Even his voice sounds different.”

Sister Nian, still shaken, nodded. “Yes, he’s not himself. Maybe he encountered something unclean in the fields that day. What should we do?”

Soon the old couple woke up. Chen Xin and Sister Nian didn’t mention this to them. Luckily, after staring at the well for a while, Wang Dafu shouldered his hoe and went to the fields, and they breathed a sigh of relief.

After that, whenever Wang Dafu returned and wasn’t seen, they would check the well. Eight times out of ten, he was there, regardless of day or night.

The next day was the same. Early morning, Chen Xin saw Wang Dafu at the well again. She thought this couldn’t go on—if nothing happened, fine, but if something did, what then? She discussed it with Sister Nian, and when Wang Dafu went to the fields, they had two young men from the village carry a large stone and seal the well.

The old couple wondered why the well was sealed. Sister Nian, unable to lie well, hastily said, “The water smells bad. We’ll open it again when it’s clean.”

The elderly didn’t ask further, nodded, and went inside. With the well sealed, no water could be drawn. Her brother’s life was more important, so they fetched water from a stream several miles away. Chen Xin carried several buckets herself, and fortunately there were jars to store it, cleaned and ready.

When Wang Dafu returned from the fields and saw the stone on the well, he showed no reaction. He put down his hoe, sat at the table, ate sweet potatoes, then went back to the fields.

He seemed normal, spoke less nonsense, but Chen Xin and Sister Nian felt he had changed—not like the old Wang Dafu, though he appeared normal. They weren’t sure if they should feel relieved or not.

That night, Chen Xin slept fitfully. Suddenly, a loud “thump” sounded outside, startling her awake. She pulled her thin blanket over her head, then realized her mother wasn’t beside her. She reached out—just her mother’s bedding, but no one else.

Late at night, Chen Xin, timid as she was, was frightened. What was that noise? So many questions plagued her, but dawn hadn’t come, there was no lamp, only moonlight outside. Should she go out and see what made the sound?

Slowly, Chen Xin lifted the covers. As she did, a familiar yet twisted face appeared beside her.

“Ah!” Chen Xin sat up abruptly, drenched in sweat, her body soaked. Thankfully, it was a dream. Yet Wang Dafu’s distorted face was burned into her mind, impossible to shake.

Suddenly, Chen Xin’s eyes widened. To her astonishment, Sister Nian wasn’t beside her. As Chen Xin prepared to get out of bed and look, the same booming sound from her dream echoed outside.

Chen Xin’s foot, just about to touch the floor for her shoes, snapped back. Terrified, she backed into a corner, not daring to breathe.

After a long while with no other sounds, and Sister Nian still absent, Chen Xin grew worried. Braving her fear, she crept to the bedside, put on her shoes, and lifted the curtain to peer into the main room. Though there was no lamp, moonlight filled the hall—the door was open.

Chen Xin couldn’t tell if her mother had opened it. She walked to the threshold and looked outside. What she saw made her collapse in fright, scrambling back into the inner room.

In the bright moonlight, though summer was well past, it was still warm. Yet the usual frogs in the fields were silent. The massive stone, which had taken several men to move, was now off the well.

The huge noise had been the stone falling. By the well, Wang Dafu was peering inside, just as obsessed as before. He was not alone; Sister Nian was also crouched at the well, staring into its depths, both as if possessed.

Chen Xin wasn’t terrified by Wang Dafu alone—it was seeing her mother similarly entranced that sent her fleeing, clutching her blanket, hugging her knees, sleepless till dawn. Neither her mother nor Wang Dafu returned inside until morning.

By then, Chen Xin realized this was no ordinary illness. At daybreak, she got out of bed. Aside from the two elderly, there were no normal people left. Going outside, she saw them still gazing into the well. Apparently, Wang Dafu had spent the previous night staring at the well, never sleeping, then went to work at dawn.

No wonder their faces looked so pale these days. Chen Xin didn’t call her mother—she knew there was no Daoist in the village to handle such matters, so she told the old couple she had to find someone, and they’d have to cook for themselves.

The old couple saw she didn’t want to explain, so they didn’t ask, just nodded and let her take some dried rations.

Chen Xin was clever. She knew nothing would happen immediately, but trouble would surely come later. So she decided to return to Chen Family Town. She had met Old Taixuan before—he had saved Chen San’s life, and even Daoist Wang called him a sage. Only he could solve this.

One person might be ill, but two could not be mere sickness. After bidding farewell to the old couple, clutching her mother’s hand, tears welled up, but she rushed toward Chen Family Town. When she arrived and saw her old home collapsed, the whole area a wasteland, she hurried to Chen San’s house.

Seeing smoke rising from Chen San’s chimney, Chen Xin couldn’t hold back her tears. After a few steps, she saw Chen San and Yang Chengzi coming out. She forgot all reserve and embarrassment in her terror and anxiety, throwing herself into Chen San’s arms.

After Chen San and Yang Chengzi heard about Wangjia Village, Chen Xin paid her respects to Master Taiyuan, and together they went to Old Taixuan’s house. As soon as Chen Xin entered, Old Taixuan opened his eyes. Though he lacked his former vigor and sharpness, at least he was awake.

Chen San, moved, grasped Old Taixuan’s hand, tears streaming down. Old Taixuan squeezed his hand lightly, as if to tell him he was fine.

Chen San dried his tears. Yang Chengzi brought Old Taixuan a bowl of water and porridge. Chen San carefully helped the old man up and fed him, then told him about Wangjia Village. The old man nodded slightly and softly said, “Be careful.”

Chen San agreed, looking to Yang Chengzi, who said, “I’ll go with you. My disciples and Chang Yu will stay behind, so there won’t be any danger.”

Chen San was deeply grateful. “Good. Let’s prepare and leave at once.”

Yang Chengzi gave instructions to his disciples and bid farewell to his master. The three set out for Wangjia Village.

Chang Yu wanted to go, but Yang Chengzi was right. Master and Daoist Taixuan needed her care. Though there were several disciples, none had a woman’s attentiveness.

Moreover, Chen San had no array to protect him, making him a target for those who coveted treasures. The farther he was from her, the safer. So Chang Yu didn’t insist on going.

Chen Family Town to Wangjia Village was usually a day and a half’s journey. When Chen San had escorted Chen Xin and Sister Nian previously, they traveled slowly with many bundles.

This time, urgency pressed them, and with nothing to carry, they reached Wangjia Village in less than a day, though it was already late at night.

Entering the village, only the dogs barked twice; otherwise, all was silent. Chen Xin hushed the dogs, and the puppy followed them to her grandfather’s home.

As soon as they saw the courtyard, Chen San and his companions grew uneasy. Yang Chengzi’s brows furrowed, and he said nothing.

Four people—Wang Dafu, Sister Nian, and the old couple—all crouched by the well, staring obsessively into its depths. Bathed in moonlight, the scene was eerie. Before they could open the gate, the dog bolted away.

Chen Xin covered her mouth, tears streaming uncontrollably. Chen San was better off; he wasn’t afraid, but the sight made his scalp tingle.

Yang Chengzi had learned Wang Dafu and Sister Nian only stared at the well, with no danger. Yet after only two days, four people were drawn in. If Chen Xin hadn’t left, who knows...

Thinking this, Yang Chengzi felt a chill for Chen Xin. Even he couldn’t make sense of it. With people right in the courtyard, his Spirit Alarm didn’t ring, nor did he sense any ghostly energy or evil aura, so he hadn’t opened his Celestial Eye.

With a creak, the gate opened. Yang Chengzi led the way. Chen Xin tightly clasped Chen San’s hand as the three entered.

The four by the well seemed not to hear anything, their heads never rising, eyes locked on the well. Yang Chengzi didn’t dare approach rashly and asked Chen San to use his Ghost Eye.

Though the moon was bright, the well remained shrouded in darkness, save for a faint glimmer. Chen San shook his head after a while, indicating he saw nothing.

Yang Chengzi frowned, thinking—could it really be illness? But what kind would make people stare at the well, and would it be contagious?

Soon, Yang Chengzi noticed something. As they lingered in the yard, faint wisps of deathly energy drifted into his soul. Though sparse and hard to detect, since the Three Pure Palace’s feather entered Yang Chengzi’s soul, he had opened the Great Dao, and his soul grew bold and powerful. Even the faintest threads of deathly energy couldn’t escape him.

There were no spirits present; his Spirit Alarm hadn’t sounded, and Chen San saw no ghosts. Where did this deathly aura come from?

With no clues, Yang Chengzi led Chen Xin and Chen San inside. Chen Xin lit an oil lamp.

Yang Chengzi spoke, “I sensed something, but I don’t know where it is or why they became like this. Chen Xin, don’t worry. Let’s observe for a couple of days. With me here, whatever it is will show itself soon enough. Judging by their state, it’s as if their souls are lost, but I need to look closer to be sure.”

Chen Xin nodded gratefully. With them here, the truth would come out.

Chen San looked at Yang Chengzi, puzzled. “What do we do now? Sleep? Is this appropriate?”

Yang Chengzi glanced at Chen San. “That depends on how you sleep.”

Chen San scratched his head, not understanding. “Speak plainly—what do you mean, how should we sleep?”

Yang Chengzi replied seriously, “I’ll sleep with Chen Xin. You take a stool outside and watch them. If anything strange happens, call me. But based on what Chen Xin said, nothing should happen. After the first half of the night, I’ll take over; you can rest.”

As soon as Yang Chengzi said this, Chen Xin blushed, lowering her head.

Chen San’s face turned dark with anger, almost steaming, and he slapped Yang Chengzi’s shoulder. “Sleep with my wife? I brought you to solve this, and you want to sleep with her while I stand guard?”

Yang Chengzi was helpless. He was a Daoist, indifferent to such matters, and had spoken too quickly without realizing the implication. But he understood Chen San now.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You think of that even now? Chen Xin sleeps in her own room, I’ll sleep in Wang Dafu’s, and you take a stool to watch.”

So, it was only a misunderstanding. Chen San didn’t argue further, actually fetched a stool from the hall and placed it in the courtyard. But after a moment, he realized something was wrong and returned inside.