Wang Yu’s face darkened as he sheathed his sword.
A cascade of loose stones tumbled down.
Suiniang widened her eyes in surprise, whispering, “He actually didn’t kill it.”
Hearing the noise behind, Chengxin the Nun’s smile deepened at the corners of her mouth.
The young man cast a pitying glance at the nun, flicked his sleeve, and walked away.
Suiniang instinctively followed, glancing back repeatedly in disbelief.
The nun reached out to brush away the rubble from the Gui Gui’s shell, dragging it along with small, hurried steps.
Though frail and slender, the nun managed to pull the roughly two-meter-long Gui Gui.
The creature struggled, scratching the ground with its claws and leaving two long, deep furrows behind — the marks were so regular and distinct that any seasoned farmer would mistake it for a celestial tortoise worthy of tilling fields.
The Gui Gui tried to escape but couldn’t, finally cursing in fury, “Damn you! Let go of the old turtle! What do you want, nun?”
The nun’s face was calm as she spoke with unwavering conviction, as if declaring an absolute truth: “Fellow Daoist, every cause has its effect. You accepted kindness, and having a cause means you must also face the effect. I’m here to help you with that.”
Tears streamed down the Gui Gui’s small, beady eyes.
“Robbers, all of you—”
***
【Age 16: Older Brother once said that learning to control your emotions is a sign of adulthood.
You’ve kept his words close to your heart, striving not to let prejudice or anger cloud your mind.
The wind outside finally cleared your thoughts.
Indeed, no matter the matter, you have to let the bullet fly for a while.
Putting aside emotional interference, you finally piece together everything about the nun.
This poor nun probably had a slip-up while chanting sutras, causing her mind to falter. People who sought immortality have all gone mad.
It’s truly hateful—the scammers who fooled them.
You grit your teeth and begin reflecting on yourself; you’d aimed your anger in the wrong direction.
You’re an ordinary person with flaws in your character, but also someone willing to reflect.
Chengxin Shitai dragged the old turtle embedded in the rock out, perhaps intending to release the unfortunate creature back to the wild.
Buddhism isn’t popular in the Northern Province. Amidst fierce rivalries between various strange cults, the ideal of self-sacrifice hasn’t won the hearts of the locals.
You’ve rarely seen Shendizi of the Fomen, and now seeing the nun’s gaunt and frail appearance, you realize the Fomen is no purer than other sects, each hiding their own grime.
You feel guilty.
As dusk falls, you chop firewood and light a fire, helping Chengxin Shitai settle the turtle.
You awkwardly offer her some dried rations—you’re still a youth, holding tightly to a dignity you find hard to let go.
Chengxin accepts them quietly.
Suiniang and her uncles awkwardly sit near you, a few yards from the turtle, seemingly afraid.
You’ve come to understand Suiniang: she talks a big game but acts quite black-heartedly in practice.
She might recognize the way, but not well enough; she’s no different from you, who doesn’t know the way at all—they both always end up crashing into bandit dens.
You don’t blame her, but your plan to send her back has completely failed—she’s led herself onto the bandits’ turf.
You learned about the Misty Soul Forest from rumors in a small town outside the forest: there’s a certain Longwang living at the water’s heart, resting, surrounded by countless Dragon Children.
The Dragon Children help him build palaces and gather handsome men and beautiful women from all over the world to fill his harem.
The mist in the forest is said to be the old Longwang’s breath after a big inhale.
But from what you can tell, this so-called Longwang must be a fake, someone masquerading with a celestial title to hoodwink people into offering money and manpower.
The legend of the old Longwang spreads across neighboring regions.
You suspect these are the same scammers who took your brother away.
Your brother’s unparalleled looks made him a target—nothing unreasonable about that!
You sigh.
You never imagined that the bandits in the Misty Soul Forest, using the natural mist as cover, had degenerated into such a sorry state—bandits at every hundred steps.
Just as you were thinking this, Chengxin Shitai spoke up: “Fellow Daoist, Wanshou Dan.”
Chengxin Shitai insisted on handing over the pill from the wooden bottle. You hesitated—though an ordinary person wouldn’t die from taking the wrong thing, there’s always a choking risk.
The thin woman opposite was adamant. Remembering your earlier rudeness, you had no choice but to accept it and swallow it with difficulty.
You felt a bit choked.
Chengxin assured you firmly that the pill would work wonders and that your wounds would be fully healed by the next day.
You sighed inwardly.
An ordinary person’s injuries usually heal overnight—nothing extraordinary.
Ah—still, better to be understanding. After all, she’s unwell.】
***
“Fellow Daoist, you have an ailment in your head. How pitiful.”
Chengxin fingered her Zhushu.
Suiniang hurried forward, trying to cover the nun’s mouth: “You’re lying again!”
Chengxin replied calmly, “I never lie.”
The night breeze stirred as the fire stretched lazily.
The young man leaned against a tree, sword in hand, motionless with eyes closed, breathing slowly.
Chengxin pressed her palms together; the wide sleeves slipped down her bony arms, revealing deep scars.
She spoke softly: “Wanshou Dan contains Wuyou Cao. You’ll sleep soundly and won’t wake easily.”
Suiniang was half convinced. She still carried the haunting image of Wang Yu suddenly opening his eyes. She cautiously leaned in, shaking his face.
The ghostly shadow of the claw cast a terrifying mask over Wang Yu’s sleeping face.
Seeing that Wang Yu didn’t suddenly attack, Suiniang relaxed.
But if a ghost were to sneak up on him like this—
The nun remained unfazed: “If a ghost attacks, fellow Daoist will slay it in your dreams.”
“Ah, you like killing ghosts in your dreams, huh?”
Suiniang pouted and glanced at the eerie-looking nun.
She drifted away, deliberately avoiding the old turtle.
The turtle was remarkably carefree, with no sense of danger.
Seeing that they didn’t intend to kill it, it furiously cursed Suiniang and the nun, then tiredly retreated into its shell for a long nap—truly absent-minded.
“My name’s Suiniang, and I’m a Shendizi of this area. You’re called Chengxin, right? I haven’t met many nuns in the Northern Province! Why would you foolishly come here to preach?”
The nun answered straightforwardly: “Fellow Daoist Suiniang, my Daoist name is Chengxin. I came to the Northern Province to preach in order to suffer hardship, and after death, to attain Buddhahood.”
Suiniang, who hadn’t spoken for many years, suddenly perked up: “You’re honest, at least.”
Chengxin slightly raised her head: “Naturally, I never lie.”
“I’ve barely heard Buddhist ideas before. What do you mean by suffering? How do you suffer?” Suiniang asked, curious.
Chengxin replied calmly: “Cutting flesh to feed eagles, sacrificing oneself for righteousness.”
The nun spoke lightly, but Suiniang shuddered. These are harsh times; such ideals hardly win hearts.
Who would live well and willingly sacrifice for others?
Looking at the nun’s loose, withered skin, it was hard to imagine what hardship she had truly endured.
Chengxin Shitai seemed to notice Suiniang’s fear and said, “Namo Amituofo. After death, by virtue of great merits, I will naturally ascend to a divine position.”
Under the firelight, the nun’s terrifying face showed a pure, devout sincerity.
Suiniang swallowed hard.
She couldn’t help but touch the scar on her face with her left hand wrapped in torn cloth.
The night was deep and still.
The nun spoke again: “Fellow Daoist, what is the name of the Divine Lord your Shendizi serves?”
Suiniang answered without hesitation: “Wangu Changchun Mingde Mengzhang Shenzhu.”
“The Divine Lord’s grace, Suiniang, you must never forget through countless years. It’s a pity that now you’ve become a ghost, betraying the Divine Lord’s hopes.” Suiniang was full of sorrow.
The nun toyed with her Zhushu, lowering her eyes: “Have you never thought of leaving this Misty Soul Forest to see the outside world?”
Suiniang was taken aback, then shook her head: “I’ve been used to it for so many years, and besides, I have family to care for.”
Her gaze awkwardly shifted toward the Gui Gui, trying to avoid the topic.
The nun frowned in confusion: “But those ghosts were forcibly kept in the mortal realm and have no consciousness.”
Suiniang twitched at the corner of her mouth, forgetting that this woman didn’t read people’s expressions at all.
Chengxin Shitai handed over a string of Zhushu:
“You fear leaving the forest now, but humans are born with a desire to explore the unknown. You’re merely suppressing it. Besides, I can see your future. This string of beads will help nurture your soul. Take it.”
She spoke with absolute certainty and calm, as if she truly saw the day Suiniang would leave the Misty Soul Forest.
Suiniang took it dumbfounded. The beads felt warm and moist, imbued with a soul-nurturing chill, clearly crafted from a rare material.
She marveled, “Why are you so kind to me?”
Chengxin remained the same honest nun: “To preach, hoping this merit will lead me to Buddhahood after death.”
Suiniang said, “I’m actually quite curious about your faith now.”
The flames burned quietly; it was a calm night.
***
【Age 16: The next day.
You woke up to find your wounds fully healed.
All in one night.
You noticed Suiniang’s uncles were gone.
Curious, you asked her.
She smiled and said they accidentally ended up near her village, so her uncles returned home ahead. She stayed behind to fulfill her duty as a guide.
You withheld judgment on Suiniang’s guiding skills—after all, the bandits gave their approval.
You noticed a new string of Zhushu wrapped around her left hand, which she fiddled with absentmindedly.
You found it somewhat strange.
Suiniang stopped Chengxin Shitai from speaking and dragged the nun away before she could say more.
You had the feeling something went on between them that you didn’t understand.
You glanced down at the old turtle and smirked—you almost mistook it for a talking creature.
The turtle’s beady eyes widened.
You hoisted the old turtle and followed them.
Suiniang led you to a river, white mist swirling over its surface, the water churning fiercely.
You intended to release the old turtle here, but it stubbornly clung to you, refusing to let go.
You filled your water pouch, looked up, and for some reason felt a flicker of familiarity with this river and its banks, as if you’d been here in a past life.
You drank most of the Meng Po Soup. Though you should have long forgotten your past, this sense of déjà vu surged suddenly—it’s hard to forget even through reincarnation.
Your heart pounded wildly.
Suiniang lowered her voice, whispering to you: “Young hero, follow this river downstream. There’s a vast lake where the boss of the Misty Soul Forest resides.
No doubt about it—the lustful old Longwang’s lair lies downstream along this river.”