The Unremarkable Little Taoist Master

A series of muffled sounds filled me with curiosity, and I hurriedly woke the old daoist priest. He groggily came to his senses, looking quite displeased, but upon hearing the noise, he quickly got up. The two of us opened the door and rushed out of the courtyard, following the sounds as we went.

We found ourselves hiding in the corner of a house, stealthily observing the situation ahead. We saw a figure in a daoist robe holding a bell, chanting incantations while occasionally shaking the bell, producing a clear, tinkling sound.

Trailing behind him was a row of Jiangshi, each with a talisman pasted on their foreheads. Every time the daoist priest shook the bell, the Jiangshi would leap forward, creating a rather amusing scene. We quietly hid in the shadows, watching this unfold, until the daoist priest led the Jiangshi out of the village. Feeling it was no longer entertaining, we decided to head back and get some sleep.

However, as we turned around, we were suddenly drenched in cold sweat. The village chief from earlier was standing behind us, looking at the three of us with a puzzled expression. His pale face under the moonlight struck us as particularly terrifying.

With a solemn expression, the village chief looked at us and said, “Who exactly are you? Why have you come to our village? What are you investigating?”

We stammered and struggled to find the right words. As the old man’s expression grew colder, I finally mustered the courage to speak, “Old sir, to be honest with you, we are here on official orders. Our mission in Xiangxi is to investigate the matter of your missing corpses.”

As soon as I said this, the old man slowly broke into his characteristic smile and said, “In that case, you should carry on with your investigation. I will take care of the rest for you.”

We nodded in gratitude, and the three of us slowly made our way back to the old man’s home. The two of us had lost all interest in sleeping. We spent the entire night brainstorming solutions and unanimously agreed that we should first clarify the issues in the village.

The next morning, we sought out the old man to engage him in conversation. When we asked about the village’s history, the old man squinted his eyes, lost in thought-whether reminiscing about the past or contemplating something else, those eyes, weathered by time, sparkled with a different kind of light.

The old man spoke as if he were conversing with us, yet seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. He began to recount, “This village is called Wang Village. It is said that in the past, every household here made a living as corpse herders, and each family kept a few Jiangshi to ensure the safety of the corpse herders on their journeys.

There was something strange and extraordinary about this village; each family possessed a Jiangshi King. Back then, this place was incredibly powerful, the strongest in the world. But for reasons unknown, the village suddenly fell into decline, losing a third of its population in an instant.

Though families still uphold the customs of corpse herding¹ and corpse refinement today, it seems that Jiangshi Kings have become extinct.” As I listened to the old man’s story, overwhelming waves of emotion surged within me. Every household had a Jiangshi King? When did they become so common?

But I was even more curious about what could have caused the village to lose a third of its population all at once. This was a perplexing question. The old man seemed to sense my confusion, smiled gently, and said, “A strange person came to our village back then, claiming that we shouldn’t profit from corpses, stating that we were desecrating the Jiangshi. In a fit of anger, our ancestors ended up confronting this mysterious figure.

Who could have anticipated that the Jiangshi Kings would simultaneously be destroyed? Our village faced devastation, and just as we were on the brink of complete destruction, a group of daoist priests arrived. That mysterious figure hurriedly fled, pursued by the priests.

Thus, the survivors of our village began anew, but we didn’t stray from our path, gradually returning to the ways of corpse herding. Yet, we never saw that mysterious person again. I suspect he might have been killed.”

I shook my head and didn’t respond, thinking that such a powerful figure couldn’t have been easily eliminated. Could this recent incident be connected to that mysterious person?

I asked the old man, “Do you know any specific information about that person?” The old man shook his head and replied, “All we know is that this mysterious person was exceptionally strong. Beyond that, we have no further details. This is merely what has been passed down through the years, and we haven’t seen him again since then. So, it has only become a generational grudge.”

I nodded, choosing not to press further. I began to contemplate, hoping to find some more significant clues. Noticing my silence, the old daoist priest wisely refrained from interrupting my thoughts and continued his conversation with the old man.

After a while, I looked up at the old man and asked, “How many families in your village are still engaged in corpse herding?”

The old man sighed and said, “Practically every family in our village is involved in this profession; after all, it’s our only means of survival.” I nodded and inquired, “Which families in your village are the best at corpse herding?”

The old man nodded thoughtfully and replied, “Besides our family, there are several other capable ones. Blacksmith Hu’s family is one of them; their Iron-armored Jiangshi is quite formidable.”

I nodded and then asked, “Can we go ask the villagers about corpse herding?” The village chief nodded in agreement, saying, “Of course, feel free to ask whatever you need. I’ll notify them shortly so they can cooperate with you. I hope this matter can be resolved soon.”

After bidding farewell to the village chief, the two of us began our inquiries throughout the village. The villagers responded eagerly, suggesting that the village chief had informed them of our purpose. We asked our questions meticulously, and by the end of the morning, we had gathered most of the information we sought.

The next family we intended to visit was that of the respected Blacksmith Hu. We arrived at his home, where the modest courtyard was remarkably clean. Just as we were about to knock on the door, I suddenly felt a surge of danger beside me. I quickly sidestepped, rolling out of the way, and turned around just in time to deliver a fierce kick at whatever had approached.

Pain shot through my leg as I noticed I had kicked a Jiangshi, one clad in heavy armor. Fortunately, it didn’t seem too powerful; I could likely subdue this Jiangshi. If it had been a Jiangshi King, I would have undoubtedly turned and fled without a second thought.

Footnote: