Volume Two: A Time of Turmoil Twists and Turns Chapter 84: Clues in the Well, Truth Revealed

“Say, shouldn’t you give me some sort of talisman? What if I wake up later and find myself staring into the well, what then?”
Yang Chengzi glanced at the four by the well. “Even if you hadn’t asked, I’d have painted a talisman on you anyway. Chen Xin’s a girl, so it’s inconvenient to draw directly; take these two exorcism talismans, put one beneath your pillow and the other under your straw mat, that’ll do. Take this Shangqing Sword as well—unless it’s a powerful ghost or demon, nothing will be able to approach you.”
Chen Xin accepted the talismans and the sword. Though still frightened, the lack of sleep these days had left her exhausted. She worriedly turned to Chen San and urged, “Be careful. If anything happens, call Daoist Yang.”
Chen San nodded, and Chen Xin led Yang Chengzi into Wang Dafu’s room, then went back to her own, climbing into bed uneasy and unsettled.
After a while, Yang Chengzi came out, holding a talisman brush and a bamboo tube. He opened the tube, and Chen San stared in shock.
“Tell me, do you daoists always carry chicken blood around? I’ve never seen you use it before.”
Yang Chengzi swirled the tube a few times, dipped his brush, and signaled for Chen San to remove his shirt. Chen San obediently took off his outer garment.
Yang Chengzi saw the great Heaven-Earth array on Chen San’s chest and two imprints of the Northern Dipper’s divine mantra on his back, feeling a bit awkward himself. His lips twitched.
“It’s not always on me. When I heard Chen Xin mention things as we arrived, I figured it might come in handy. My junior gave it to me—where he got it, I’ve no idea, but it’s fresh, I can still sense its vitality.”
He began to paint the talisman on Chen San. The center couldn’t be drawn over, blocked by the divine mantra’s imprint, so he worked around it. Once finished, he dotted the talisman’s ‘eye’; the chicken blood dried instantly, leaving a vivid red talisman on Chen San’s back.
“All done. Give me the cap, I’m off to bed. Watch carefully, don’t fall asleep.”
“How could I sleep? Can I put my shirt back on? It’s a bit chilly at night.”
“Go ahead, the talisman won’t rub off now. In two or three days it’ll fade on its own.”
Chen San put his shirt back on, eyeing Yang Chengzi with plaintive dismay.
“You’re not going to stay with me for a bit? I’m—I’m scared; those four look unsettling.”
Yang Chengzi clapped his shoulder. “With your courage, best not marry at all. Can’t count on you in a pinch.”
Chen San, mocked by Yang Chengzi, felt a bit embarrassed.
“Go, go, go, get your sleep. Just remember to relieve me later.”
Yang Chengzi chuckled and went back inside to lie down. Chen San wasn’t just saying he was scared—his body betrayed him. Alone, watching those four staring, entranced, at the well, his legs trembled ceaselessly.
He wanted to look elsewhere, but feared they might suddenly lunge and bite him. It was torture. Yet, as Chen Xin had said, after half the night passed, legs gone numb, they did nothing else.
The night was hard, but it soon reached its midpoint. Chen San, brow furrowed and rubbing his eyes, was joined by Yang Chengzi after a while.
“Any movement?”
Chen San rubbed his eyes, glanced at Wang Dafu, then rubbed his eyes again. Yang Chengzi sat down heavily on the bench, watching him.
“Are you really that sleepy?”
Chen San grabbed Yang Chengzi’s hand, pointing at Wang Dafu. “Look, why does Wang Dafu’s hair look so long?”
Yang Chengzi was startled. He’d seen Wang Dafu’s hair tied up when they entered the yard—how could it have grown? He followed Chen San’s gesture, but without the Heavenly Eye, saw only the four at the well.
Still, he sensed Chen San was seeing something, so he urged him to look closely. It wasn’t reluctance to open the Heavenly Eye; if Chen San’s ghost eyes couldn’t see clearly, neither could his own. But Chen San was stubbornly unwilling, refusing to go near.
Yang Chengzi could only force the matter, grabbing Chen San and hoisting him onto his shoulder, moving toward the four.
Chen San protested, but with Yang Chengzi carrying him, he couldn’t escape. As they drew closer to Wang Dafu, Chen San clearly saw the ghostly shadow of hair at the base of Wang Dafu’s neck.
“I see it—I see it! Put me down! It looks like hair, but it’s faint, sometimes darker, sometimes lighter.”
“Look closely, is it a shadow of hair? If it is, he may be possessed.”
“Yes—it’s hair, long women’s hair draped over the shoulders.”
“That’s impossible; my Soul Alarm Bell hasn’t rung, there shouldn’t be any spirit possessing him here.”
“It really is hair, but besides that, I don’t see any ghost occupying him.”
Hearing this, Yang Chengzi was puzzled. Hair turned spirit?
“Do the others have it?”
Chen San looked around and shook his head. “No, no, no… Only Wang Dafu has the long hair.”
The elderly couple and Nian Sao had their hair tied up, but none had the shadow of long hair behind Wang Dafu’s neck.
This only baffled Yang Chengzi further. If possessed, one staring at the well would be understandable—but why did the others, who weren’t possessed, stare as well?
Yang Chengzi pondered deeply, while Chen San yawned.
“You think it over. I’m off to sleep. Maybe we’ll see something clearer in the daylight.”
Yang Chengzi ignored him, so Chen San headed inside. He thought of going to Chen Xin’s room but, cowardly as he was, turned and lay down in Wang Dafu’s room instead.
Yang Chengzi sat back down, lost in thought.
The dead energy came and went, never steady, and he couldn’t pinpoint its source. He wondered if Wang Dafu had brought some evil thing home from his fields—yet he sensed not a trace of evil in his soul sea. If it truly were something malicious, someone would already have died; no one would be simply staring at a well. That possibility seemed remote.
Yang Chengzi was deep in thought, unlike Chen San, who muddled through most things. He pondered until dawn.
“Cock-a-doodle-doo!”
With first light, the rooster began to crow. Not long after, Chen Xin came out of her room, seeing Yang Chengzi sitting, wooden and dazed, on the bench.
“Daoist Yang, did you find anything? Will my mother and the others get better?”
Yang Chengzi only came to himself after hearing her voice. “What did you just say?”
Chen Xin repeated her question. Yang Chengzi stood up, looked at Wang Dafu, and said, “Last night, Chen San noticed something odd, but we’ll need daylight to see what’s really happening.”
“They’ll be better during the day. My uncle goes to work in the fields, and won’t stare at the well all day.”
Yang Chengzi was surprised. If they improved by day and worsened at night, wasn’t that classic possession? Why hadn’t his Soul Alarm Bell rung? He hadn’t sensed any evil or resentment; a ghost capable of possessing someone always had such aura—why was there none here?
Seeing Chen Xin’s anxious face, he comforted her, “Don’t worry. It’s daylight now—cook something for everyone. They’ve been staring at the well for nights, their bodies must be exhausted.”
Chen Xin nodded obediently, glanced worriedly at the four, then went to light the fire for porridge.
Yang Chengzi remained wooden on the bench, watching.
The sun rose, birds began to sing. Chen Xin finished cooking vegetable porridge and sweet potatoes, setting a portion for each at the table. Just as her mother used to call Wang Dafu to eat, she called the four by the well, and they responded, heading inside to eat.
Yang Chengzi was stunned. He’d expected to have to force-feed each of them, but with a couple of calls, they came in on their own.
Chen San, drawn by the aroma, came out. Seeing the four eating porridge and sweet potatoes at the table, he was equally amazed. He thought Yang Chengzi had solved the problem, but Chen Xin gave him a look, signaling him to go outside.
He noticed a small stool by the bench, with two big bowls of porridge and several sweet potatoes. Understanding her intent, he went out.
Chen San asked, confused, “So, this is fixed?”
Yang Chengzi shook his head. “Not yet. Chen Xin said they’re more normal during the day.”
Chen San bit into a sweet potato. “This seems pretty normal—they can feed themselves.”
“Once daylight comes, they’re much better. My uncle heads to the fields. But as soon as night falls, they go back to staring at the well,” Chen Xin explained.
Chen San nodded as he ate. “Let’s follow your uncle to the fields later. Maybe we’ll spot something.”
“Yes, that’s my thought too. The problem likely starts with your uncle.”
After breakfast, Wang Dafu headed out, shouldering his hoe and marching to the fields without much word.
Chen San and Yang Chengzi followed. Chen Xin, anxious, barely finished cleaning up before chasing after them. The fields were neither close nor far—less than a mile away, and they arrived soon enough.
They kept their distance, watching Wang Dafu work, sweating and barely pausing. If they didn’t know about the issue, Wang Dafu would seem like any ordinary farmer.
They crept closer, observing for half the morning. Wang Dafu put down his hoe and walked to the riverbank’s reeds, scooping water with his hands to drink. Afterwards, he returned and worked the fields until lunchtime, then shouldered his hoe and headed home.
On the way back, Yang Chengzi, following Wang Dafu, suddenly sensed waves of dead energy emanating from him—much stronger than before.
Yang Chengzi raised his hand to signal a halt.
“Something’s off. The dead energy is coming from him, and it’s much stronger after returning from the fields. The problem lies there.”
The three turned back to the field. The soil had just been tilled. Yang Chengzi walked back and forth, sensing for dead energy, but felt nothing. This puzzled him—where had the extra dead energy on Wang Dafu come from?
Just as Yang Chengzi was at a loss, Chen Xin spoke. “Do you smell something foul? It seems to come with the wind, then disappears.”
Chen San nodded repeatedly, “Yes, I’ve smelled it before. Wait—let me think, where have I encountered it… let me recall…” He spun in place, then slapped his thigh.
“That’s it—the stench of a corpse. When I first left Chen Family Town, I passed a village where a girl drowned herself; her coffin chased me all the way. After the old man handled it, I woke up to a field soaked in blood and flesh—it’s the same smell.”
“Drowned?” Yang Chengzi was startled.
Chen Xin seemed to realize something too. Both looked toward the spot where Wang Dafu drank from the reeds.
“Let’s go have a look—the problem might be in the water.”
Chen San still hadn’t figured it out, but Yang Chengzi and Chen Xin hurried toward the reeds. After a hundred paces, the stench grew stronger, and Yang Chengzi sensed dead energy.
“This is the place. Search for any drowned person no one knows about.”
Chen Xin, frightened, clung to Chen San’s hand. Chen San carefully led her along the reeds, searching. Soon, he spotted what looked like a piece of clothing.
“Here—it seems to be here.”
Hearing him, Yang Chengzi ran over, and indeed found a corpse floating in the water. Judging by the clothes and hair, it was a young woman.
“Chen San, you and Chen Xin go back and call the villagers. Bring tools, and get her out of the water. She’s likely someone from the village. Wang Dafu must have drunk from here, that’s why he’s like this.”
Chen San didn’t understand what drinking the water had to do with staring at the well, but since Yang Chengzi asked him to fetch the villagers, he didn’t dwell on it and hurried back with Chen Xin.
The villagers didn’t recognize Chen San, but when Chen Xin told them there was a corpse in the reeds, they began to gossip. Soon, an elderly woman came running, crying, saying the body might be her daughter.
The villagers seemed to recall something, grabbed tools, and a crowd rushed toward the reeds. Chen San and Chen Xin checked on the house—Nian Sao had finished cooking, the elderly couple sat in the courtyard like normal people, the old man smoking, the old woman shelling corn.
Seeing nothing amiss, they joined the others heading to the reeds.
When Yang Chengzi saw the crowd, he declared himself a Maoshan Daoist, and instructed several to use their tools to retrieve the body. With a Daoist present, the villagers’ courage grew.
The elderly woman collapsed in tears upon seeing the corpse brought out.
From the villagers, they learned that while the body was bloated and unrecognizable, her clothes were clear—they all knew it was this woman’s daughter, Lai Feng.
She was a widow from the village; her husband died young, leaving Lai Feng as a child. The villagers called her Lai Feng’s mother. When Lai Feng was born, she was fair and plump, good-looking, and people said the couple was blessed.
But as Lai Feng grew, while other children became sensible, she couldn’t even walk. She never smiled when teased, though sometimes she’d grin foolishly when left alone. As she grew older, they realized—Lai Feng was born with a simple mind.
There was nothing to be done. She was simple-minded, so her mother tried to have another child, but before she could, her husband died. Though they were from the same village, there were always busybodies gossiping—the widow cursed her husband, the child was simple, who knows what sins they’d committed in a past life. The most hurtful words were spoken.
Remarrying was out of the question. Rumors spread fast in rural villages. Lai Feng’s mother could only raise her daughter alone, struggling to bring her up.
When Lai Feng grew older, she could walk, though not steadily—often stumbling, slow to react, never catching herself when she fell, frequently injuring herself. Her mother was heartbroken, but the fields had to be worked; otherwise, they’d starve. As the child grew, she couldn’t be tied up all day. Gradually, Lai Feng wandered the village on her own, never straying too far. At mealtimes, her mother called her home.
Everyone knew she was a simple girl. Occasionally, some unruly children bullied her, but the villagers would shout at them. All in all, mother and daughter were pitiful enough.
Then, over ten days ago, Lai Feng disappeared. Normally, she appeared near home at mealtime, but her mother couldn’t find her, searching daily in tears. The villagers tried to help, searching the village and surroundings, but found nothing.
They carried Lai Feng’s corpse home, despite the stench. The necessary rituals had to be performed, and Yang Chengzi handled them. He spoke with Lai Feng’s mother and arranged for her burial—three days in the house, then laid to rest in a favorable spot, hoping she might reincarnate as a normal person next life.
Lai Feng’s mother was heartbroken, but with her daughter gone, keeping her longer would only breed resentment. Better to bury her sooner, to hasten her return.
Grasping Yang Chengzi’s hand, she begged him to properly send Lai Feng on her way. Yang Chengzi did not neglect his duties, reciting the relevant rites several times, hoping this unfortunate soul might be whole in her next life. This life had ended; it was time to move on.
Like the incomplete souls of Zhufeng Town, Lai Feng had lived as a human, but her soul was incomplete, her intelligence never awakened, her body limited—hence her clumsy, simple nature.
After this lifetime of nurturing, and Yang Chengzi’s rites, if her soul could be mended, she might be normal next time.
Now, Yang Chengzi understood why Lai Feng possessed Wang Dafu, but he sensed no evil or resentment, and the Soul Alarm Bell never rang. A damaged soul, lacking intelligence, has no evil or resentment.
Though nurtured by this lifetime, her intelligence never awakened, her soul was like that of a wild beast—so the bell remained silent. Wang Dafu, drinking from the reeds, was tainted by the dead energy, allowing Lai Feng to possess him. Perhaps she missed her mother and wished to return.
After the rites, some villagers stayed to accompany Lai Feng’s mother on her daughter’s final vigil.
That night, Yang Chengzi prepared talisman water for Nian Sao, Wang Dafu, and the elderly couple, removing the dead energy from them. He had Chen Xin call their souls back; they slept peacefully, no longer drawn to the well.
Yang Chengzi pondered—Lai Feng, for unknown reasons, drowned in the reeds. Wang Dafu’s fields were nearby; farmers drank from streams or rivers for convenience, rarely returning home for water. With the reeds so close, Wang Dafu naturally drank there. Yet Lai Feng had drowned there, unnoticed; over time, her dead energy seeped into the water. After drinking it repeatedly, Wang Dafu was tainted by her dead energy.
Lai Feng’s damaged soul lacked intelligence, but the dead energy suppressed Wang Dafu’s fortune and yang fire; possession was inevitable, since their dead energy matched.
As for Nian Sao and the elderly couple, it must have been through daily contact with Wang Dafu, transferring the dead energy, allowing Lai Feng to possess them and steal their souls.