Chapter Seventy-Eight: The Last Descendant of the Mountain Unsealers

On the right side of Xiaowei’s face was a slender scar. Though it wasn’t short in length, it wasn’t deep, and in the dim light, it was hardly noticeable unless one looked closely.

By now, I had roughly pieced together the sequence of events. That robed figure must have used some strange method to arrive at the scene. Clearly, the essence of this curse was to frame me, shifting the blame for those murders onto my shoulders. This was not a place to linger; getting out safely was now my top priority.

“Officer Yezi, may we leave now?” I turned to the beautiful officer before me, my heart still pounding with unease.

She hesitated for a moment. “By procedure, we have up to forty-eight hours for questioning. But since your alibis have been confirmed, please keep your phones on. We may need to contact you at any time.”

I nodded to her, waved at Old Liao and Hu Ji, and the three of us quickly exited the building.

Behind us, Officer Yezi murmured, “I can’t shake the feeling that this man is hiding many secrets.” Shaking her head, she turned and returned to Xiaowei’s interrogation room.

At last, we stepped through the doors of the station. The ordeal had left us all rattled.

Hu Ji patted his chest. “This curse is truly bizarre. That man from Dian Nan set up such a vicious trap for you.”

I, too, was shaken. Had it not been for Brother Xiaolin and Hu Ji swiftly gathering the photographic and video evidence, and exposing the underground gambling den’s address to the police, Old Liao and I might really have been branded murderers.

We chatted as we walked toward the exit. Suddenly, a rough voice called out beside us.

“Wait, masters!”

We turned, puzzled, to see who had called us. The man was around six foot three, broad-shouldered, with a thick beard on his chin and dark skin. Even through his clothes, one could see the outline of his muscles—clearly a man of physical discipline.

“Isn’t that the man who was listening in earlier when I was talking about fate with the police?” Old Liao whispered in my ear, signaling me to be cautious, for this was no ordinary man.

The imposing stranger strode up to us, then dropped abruptly to his knees before Old Liao.

“Master, save me!”

The three of us immediately let down our guard, staring at him in bewilderment.

“I overheard your learned discourse inside. Clearly, you are experts in the field. I have encountered some trouble recently—could you save my life? I will be eternally grateful and repay you with my own!”

Old Liao glanced around. Uniformed officers were passing by, all staring curiously at this burly man kneeling before us.

A young officer jogged over. “Is everything alright? Do you need help?”

Old Liao hurriedly waved him off. “No, no, we’re fine. Old friends, haven’t seen each other in years. He’s just a bit emotional, that’s all.”

The officer eyed us suspiciously as he walked away, glancing back repeatedly.

“This isn’t a place to talk. Let’s discuss things back at the shop.” We helped the big man to his feet, flagged down a taxi, and all four of us headed to the shop.

Back at the shop, everyone sprawled out in exhaustion. At last, we could finally relax.

I ordered some bowls of cold jelly, and as soon as they arrived, we all dug in at once.

The burly man eyed our food and swallowed hard. With a sigh, I handed him a bowl.

He shot me a grateful glance and wolfed it down.

I brought out some beers, but Hu Ji declined, ordering milk tea instead. Old Liao and I clinked bottles and drained them in a single gulp.

“About Xiaowei…” Old Liao eyed me warily, afraid the name would upset me.

“Let him be,” I said with a sigh. “Gambling and drugs—he made his own choices and must bear the consequences. We’re no longer brothers. From now on, we go our separate ways.”

I stared into my bowl, remembering the days Xiaowei and I would eat street food together. Those times were gone forever.

Noticing the big man lost in thought as well, Old Liao spoke up. “I’ve been a reader of fate, Old Hai, for many years. May I ask, what’s your story?”

I was surprised at how fluent Old Liao was with the cant of the trade—he sounded just like a wandering fortune-teller.

Still getting no response, Old Liao pressed on, “A man of strength or a performer?”

He leaned close and whispered to me, “There’s an earthy scent about him—he’s not on the straight and narrow. Let’s hear him out before making any decisions.”

I nodded, watching the man warily.

Seeing our guarded looks, the big man shook his head, cupping his fists respectfully to Old Liao, then turning to Hu Ji and me. “Since you are people of the Jianghu, I won’t hide the truth. Avoid grave pits and coffin burials, steer clear of the Mountain Movers and Ridge Removers. Beware the Red-Clad Fiend, the Smiling Corpse—better to hear a ghost cry than a ghost laugh.”

Old Liao leapt to his feet. “Brother, what sect are you from?”

The big man slumped back onto the bench, dejected. “I am the last of the Ridge Remover Sect.”

“May I know your name?” I had heard of the Mountain Movers and Ridge Removers. In the seventies and eighties, they were major forces, but as society modernized and technology advanced, their disciples dwindled.

It was said that grave-robbing was an act that harmed one’s fate, and those in the trade believed deeply in this. The risks were high—not only monsters in the tombs, but also poisonous gases that could kill. Few left unscathed.

Besides, with technology so advanced and everyone well-fed, who still resorted to digging up ancestral graves? Even the masters of that trade had mostly become antique dealers, trading in knowledge rather than practice, and their hands-on skills had faded away.

“My name is Chen Erhu. Call me Tiger.”

Despite his rugged appearance, he displayed the etiquette of the Jianghu, never once making us uncomfortable.

“Tiger, your sect always valued strength in numbers. In the old days, a hundred men might blast open a tomb together. Now that your sect has declined, how do you make a living?”

Old Liao was blunt; since the man had been so open, it was only right to be direct in return.

“Oh, I gave up those shady dealings long ago. Now, I appraise antiques at the market for some extra cash. Sometimes I find a real bargain and make a tidy profit. Life is freer now. But with my passing, the Ridge Remover Sect will be finished.”

There was a shadow in Tiger’s eyes as he spoke—he was clearly saddened by the decline of his sect. We didn’t press him for details, offering only a few words of comfort: as long as you live, there’s always a way forward.

“I heard Master Liao speak of feng shui and fate at the station. In my line of work, I know a little myself. I could tell right away you are a true master. Might I ask for your help?”

Old Liao was clearly pleased by the praise. “Speak freely.”

“Have any of you ever heard of tomb artifact spirits?”

Hu Ji and I shrugged, but Old Liao stroked his chin thoughtfully.

“You mean, in the finest tombs, with time, not only might monsters arise, but artifacts themselves could gain sentience?”

“Master Liao, you are indeed a master! That’s exactly what I mean!”

“I’ve heard of it, but it’s extremely rare. Have you encountered one?”

Tiger scratched his head, embarrassed. “Yes, I think I’m being haunted by one.”

“What exactly happened?”

This was something new to me. I’d seen vengeful spirits and possessed people, but never an artifact spirit.

Tiger took a sip of tea and began his story.

About a month ago, Tiger was joking around at a friend’s antique shop when a shifty young man walked in. Seeing Tiger’s intimidating build, the young man tried to leave immediately.

The shop owner, a man of great experience, sensed something off and quickly stopped him.

“Hey, don’t go! Got something precious? Let us have a look.”

In the antiques trade, everyone was a shrewd judge of character. The owner flattered and coaxed the young man until he was persuaded to step inside.

Gradually, the young man let down his guard and, glancing sideways at the two men, pulled out a cloth pouch from his bulging pocket.

He held the item tightly, and as he introduced himself, Tiger and the owner listened. The young man was a doctor at Yue Nan Municipal Hospital. One night, seven corpses arrived at the hospital, and he and the morgue guard took them to the mortuary.

As they worked, placing each body into the freezer, the young man noticed a faint green glow emanating from the neck of the last corpse, visible even through the white shroud.

While the guard’s back was turned, he quietly unzipped the body bag. What he saw around the corpse’s neck shocked him.

As he spoke, the young man opened the cloth pouch and revealed a translucent jade cicada.

Old Liao frowned. “A jade cicada is usually a funerary object, placed beneath the tongue of the deceased, isn’t it?”