Chapter 85: Yun Ranran of the Jiuzhou Academy

The two burly men led the way, and Chong Li and Lian followed behind. As they walked, Chong Li and Lian felt as though someone was watching them. Yet whenever they glanced around, nothing was there.

[Master, don’t be so suspicious. It’s just a few scarecrows!]

Since Little Rascal said so, Lian let go of her worries. Chong Li, however, remained uneasy, but seeing the cheerful look on Lian’s face, sticking close to her was hardly a problem.

In the distant cornfield, a scarecrow’s eyes made of black beans suddenly twitched, casting an eerie air over the whole field.

The brothers lived in a town called Jingde, where everyone wore benevolent expressions. Yet, upon seeing the two brothers, the townsfolk scattered in panic, avoiding them at all costs.

Helpless, the brothers hurried through the town with Lian and Chong Li, taking a shortcut to save time.

Their home was rather poor, built of wood and thatch, with faded New Year paintings pasted on the wooden door, worn pale by wind and rain.

From inside came the sound of coughing, harsh enough to seem as though it might tear the lungs out.

After peering inside, the brothers closed the door and led everyone into the inner room.

“Mother! Mother! Little sister! Are you all right? I found two living immortals—they’re sure to cure you and little sister!”

Lian tugged at Chong Li’s sleeve; the bedroom door was low, forcing Chong Li to stoop to enter.

The room was tidy enough, but the bright red bloodstains on the floor were jarring.

Lian wrapped her hand in a cloth and reached out to check their pulses, which were steady and untroubled, as though nothing was amiss.

As Lian puzzled over this, Chong Li sent a message: “Look at the back of the girl’s neck.”

Following Chong Li’s words, Lian looked and saw, hidden beneath a tangle of hair, a small patch of dark bruising.

Using her spiritual power, Lian gently lifted the girl and swept the hair aside. The mark on her neck became clear—a hand-shaped bruise, evidence of strangulation, causing the brothers’ fists to clench tightly.

The old woman’s skin was wrinkled, making the mark less distinct, but still visible. The brothers seemed to know this as well.

Lian glanced indifferently at them. “If you don’t speak the truth, even gods descended to earth couldn’t save them.”

With that, she rose and left the bedroom. Clearly, the brothers were hiding much; without the truth about the illness and its cause, only a deity could treat them.

This time, Chong Li took the initiative and grasped Lian’s hand, knowing she was resolute.

Since fate had brought them together, Lian wouldn’t simply turn away, but the brothers’ secrecy left her uneasy.

At such a time, how could they still fear offending someone? If they waited any longer, the two inside would be off to their next lives!

Inside the bedroom, the brothers grew anxious and red-eyed. “Brother, things are already so bad, what’s left to fear? Whether it’s ghost or demon, we’re barefoot and not afraid of those with shoes!”

The elder brother’s face twisted with indecision. “But…”

“But what? If we keep waiting, how will mother and little sister get through this?”

Seeing no other way, the elder brother steeled himself and spoke with resolve, “Let’s go, and ask the two masters to treat mother and little sister!”

A hint of joy flickered across the younger brother’s face, and he followed his brother out of the bedroom.

Outside, Chong Li and Lian were waiting. The brothers immediately knelt. “Just now, we were foolish. Please, come inside so we can explain everything in detail.”

Lian breathed a sigh of relief—they had come to their senses, albeit not too late. Chong Li held her hand tightly, offering her a sense of security. “Let’s go.”

Back inside, the elder brother poured a cup of plain water for both Lian and Chong Li. “We don’t have good tea to offer, please make do with this.”

“Thank you.” Lian didn’t care for tasteless water, but it was their heartfelt gesture, so she set it aside. “Tell us everything, as fully as you can.”

The younger brother glanced at the elder. “It all started more than ten years ago…

Back then, my brother and I were eight or nine, and little sister was just about this tall.” He gestured to show her height.

“Our family has always depended on corn for a living. Perhaps we were lucky—our corn grew bigger and fuller than most.

That day, mother took us to the cornfield to weed, hoping for a good harvest.

I still remember the sun was blazing, but the cornfield wasn’t hot at all—in fact, it was cool.

My brother and I were exhausted, so we rested off to the side. While we drank water, a drifting voice reached our ears—neither male nor female, strangely uncanny.

We must have been addled, for we asked aloud, ‘Big sister, where are you?’ That single question brought calamity to our family...

Mother came over and asked who we were speaking to, but we said nothing. After a while, the voice sounded again, threatening that if we didn’t answer, she’d see to it our family harvested nothing!

My brother and I grew afraid, whispering back, ‘Who are you?’ Then the voice vanished. When we turned, night had fallen. Brother and mother were gone.

The corn around me suddenly shot up more than two meters. I stood amid the stalks, shouting for them, but I didn’t know how long I stayed there.

So tired, I fell asleep. When I awoke, I was lying on the bed mother and little sister slept in, brother was on the floor, and mother was holding little sister nearby, staring at us with eyes black and bright—so bright they scared me.”

The younger brother clenched his fists, sweat beading on his brow, his clothes clinging as if he’d been pulled from water. Swallowing hard, he continued:

“After that day, mother and little sister’s health grew worse. Our corn gradually yellowed and dried up. To feed us, my brother and I started gathering wood and herbs for a living, barely enough to keep the household afloat.

It’s been decades. We thought the strange events of those years were over, that they’d only left us poor and sick. But just a month ago, my brother and I realized it wanted our family dead!”

Lian felt chills, goosebumps rising all over.

The younger brother went on, “A month ago, the field that had lain fallow for decades suddenly sprouted corn. It grew well, but appeared out of nowhere, and everyone passing by thought it strange.”

Lian suddenly felt nauseous. “Is it the same cornfield as where we met you?”

She was terrified; if the younger brother confirmed it, she’d need to rush outside and vomit.

“No, not at all. Our field is some distance from there.”

Lian quietly calmed herself and continued listening.

“In that cornfield, a scarecrow appeared out of thin air. It seemed to walk—the position changed morning, noon, and night. The only constant was that wherever it stood, an eerie wind blew.

Neighbors felt uneasy, and so did we. We took our savings and sought out a few Daoist priests, but they merely glanced at the place, refunded us, and left.

At last, my brother and I understood—we’d provoked something truly dreadful. In the blink of an eye, mother and little sister ended up like this.

That’s the gist of it.” The younger brother wiped the sweat from his face. One could imagine how terrifying it must be to frighten a grown man like this.