Chapter 6: The Disappearance Case in Guobei County

The three of them were deep in conversation, laughter erupting from time to time, the atmosphere lively and warm. Their topics ranged widely: Fish Eyes spoke of women, the scholar shared tales from the literary world, and Yifan recounted the pleasures of mountain life—each with its own charm.

Suddenly, the scholar let out a sigh.
“Benefactor, there’s something I do not understand. May I seek your guidance?”
Yifan was taken aback. Seeing the scholar’s troubled expression, he smiled, “Are you still troubled by that affair with the snake demon?”
“Benefactor, you know me well. I treated her as my wife, yet she saw me as nothing but livestock, ready for the slaughter. Do demons and monsters not possess feelings?”
“Those who are not of our kind have hearts unlike ours,” Yifan replied.
The scholar fell silent, sighing again, his expression clouded with melancholy.
Could this have been his first love? No wonder the wound runs so deep, Yifan thought to himself.

…

Winter arrived swiftly, and the mountains grew even more desolate. Even the birds called less frequently, trees had shed many leaves, and the bare branches looked bleak and forlorn.
After finishing his daily practice, Yifan would go to the courtyard to draw talismans. He picked up a calligraphy brush as thick as a baby’s arm, dipped it in water, and painted symbols on a stone slab.
His brush moved with his will, flowing like a dragon through clouds, imprinting a “Lesser Evil-Expelling Talisman” onto the smooth bluestone. Once the symbol was drawn, the water would trickle down into a pool below. He repeated this practice for an hour before finally resting.
Exhaling deeply, he set aside the large brush, then practiced a set of martial movements. By the time he finished, the sun was already high in the sky.
These days in the mountains were far from wasted. With no worries about food or drink, he had no intention of descending, finding great joy in the mountain’s tranquility. His cultivation became a source of tireless delight, and he lost himself in it.
Since reaching the Enlightened Aperture stage, many previous doubts dissolved, and he quickly filled gaps in his practice. The only regret was that, even with such progress, he could craft at most two “Lesser Evil-Expelling Talismans” per day—any more would harm his health.
So, he devised a new method: he dug a pool beneath the old tree in his courtyard, set a bluestone slab within, and used the large brush to paint with water, caring little for success or failure.
In less than two weeks, he gained a deeper understanding of the talisman, producing them with greater ease and without exhausting himself.
After midday, he harvested cabbages from the vegetable patch outside the temple, placed them in a large water vat, weighed them down with stones to make pickles—easy to preserve and delicious with rice.
As Yifan was preparing for his evening practice, someone arrived outside: it was the scholar’s cousin, Fish Eyes. In recent days, they had seen each other often and become acquaintances.

The scholar’s name was Chen Yi. He was open-hearted and bold, a young man with social grace, who often had his servants bring rice, oil, and vegetables to the mountain, saving Yifan much trouble.
“Brother Chen Yi, what brings you here?”
Chen Yi appeared hurried and anxious, followed by four or five sturdy men dressed for action, all carrying staves and looking wary, as though guarding against some threat.
Bandits, perhaps?
Yifan dismissed the notion—Lanruo Temple was always crowded with worshippers, and Guobei County had stationed dozens of officers at the mountain’s foot for safety. Petty thieves sometimes showed up, but nothing that would warrant such vigilance from Chen Yi.
“Brother Yifan, please come down the mountain with me at once. Save my cousin’s life!”
Upon questioning, Yifan learned that Fish Eyes had encountered an evil spirit.
Half a month ago, Fish Eyes began staying out all night, returning only at dawn. His father scolded him several times, but instead of reforming, he grew more reckless, sometimes disappearing for days.
The Chen family grew worried and was about to send for him, when he returned home on his own—only to collapse in bed, growing weaker and refusing food or drink. His life now hung by a thread, terrifying his relatives.
Could this be related to that woman from the Violet Flower House? Yifan wondered.
“Brother Chen Yi, has anything strange happened in Guobei County lately?”
Chen Yi’s face darkened. After a moment’s hesitation, he said, “Lately, there’s been turmoil—demons haunting the county. Several people have gone missing, entire families found dead for no reason. Everyone is on edge.”
People disappearing? Yifan was alarmed. Something unusual was afoot. Guobei County sat on a major route, heavily garrisoned, with Lanruo Temple nearby—what demon would dare stir up trouble here?
If this were the work of men, it shouldn’t have gotten so out of hand. With the entire county in panic, the magistrate would surely investigate rigorously.
Could it truly be a demon?
“What about the monks at Lanruo Temple? If demons are causing trouble, surely the great temple would send people to handle it.”
This was one of Yifan’s own doubts. If demons were running rampant, and with things escalating so drastically, it would be a direct affront to Lanruo Temple’s prestige.
“Alas, no one knows what happened. Half a month ago, Lanruo Temple suddenly closed its gates, driving away all worshippers. There are rumors some heard terrifying noises from within the temple.”

“Lanruo Temple is sealed off?”
It seemed Lanruo Temple was embroiled in serious trouble, Yifan thought.
Half a month earlier, while meditating, he had seen golden light flare across the sky, heard Buddhist chants, and felt a surge of spiritual energy as vast as a tidal wave. Looking out, he saw the direction of Lanruo Temple ablaze with light and moving silhouettes.
He had assumed they were hosting a grand ceremony and thought nothing more of it. By dawn the next day, all was quiet again.
Yifan now felt an ominous storm brewing, with Lanruo Temple at its very center.
But saving lives took precedence. Yifan gathered his tools and followed Chen Yi down the mountain.
Lanruo Temple lay at the front of the mountain, Yitian Monastery at the rear. They took a narrow path, and along the way Yifan asked for more details, forming a clearer picture in his mind.
After several months away, Guobei County looked far more desolate, its former prosperity gone. People hurried through the streets, faces filled with fear, breaking into a trot when they saw strangers.
Most shops along the road were shuttered; even street vendors were rare. The few open stores had almost no customers, and the clerks inside looked sullen—if not for their wages, they’d likely have fled already.
A chill wind swept through, carrying a palpable sense of unrest.
“Terrible news! The owner and clerk at the Rouge Shop are dead!”
Suddenly, a terrified scream came from one of the shops. The already anxious passersby scattered, and those storekeepers who had been hesitating now began closing up one after another.
A crime committed in broad daylight—something momentous was about to occur.
Yifan and his companions wasted no time and went straight to the Chen residence. Before they even reached the door, a middle-aged man with a handsome beard hurried out to greet them. “Master Yi, you’ve finally come.”
“This is my uncle, the patriarch of the Chen family.”
After exchanging greetings, the patriarch dismissed the servants and led Yifan into the back courtyard.
The Chen family truly lived up to its reputation as local gentry—on the way in, Yifan counted at least a dozen servants, passing through several gardens adorned with rockeries, ponds, and ancient trees, all adding to the estate’s grandeur.