Chapter Thirty-Eight: Seeking the Living Dead

But as long as there is even a sliver of hope, I have to go find Li Danian. No matter what conditions he sets, I will agree to them.

Bidding farewell to Duan Sandao, Wei Qi and I set off in his rickety Happy Prince straight toward Linyi. Linyi isn’t far from Ju County—less than a hundred kilometers—but Wei Qi’s car is so old and battered that, even with the gas pedal floored, it barely managed seventy or eighty kilometers an hour. By the time we reached Jiuqu Town, it was already past three in the afternoon.

Looking at this not particularly large township, bustling with people everywhere, we were at a loss as to where we should even begin searching for Li Danian. Wei Qi called his master for advice but could not get a clear address; his master said he hadn’t kept in touch with Li Danian for years.

Wei Qi’s Solid Yin Pills are effective for only three days, so we had to find the Blood Lingzhi within that window, or all hope would truly be lost.

Since even the venerable Duan Sandao didn’t know Li Danian’s exact whereabouts, we had no choice but to search on our own. I saw an old woman selling water caltrops by the roadside and went over to ask her, but she shook her head and said she didn’t know. I asked several more people, but everyone said they’d never heard of anyone named Li Danian in Jiuqu.

Wei Qi pulled me over under a plane tree where there was an old man drawing lots. Wei Qi approached and asked the old man for a fortune reading, and after chatting for a while, he asked if the old man knew Li Danian.

The old man blinked a couple of times and glanced at Wei Qi. “Young man, you’re not from around here, are you?”

Wei Qi gave an awkward smile and offered him a cigarette. “No, I’m not—I’m from Ju County. I came here specifically to find Master Li. Something happened at home, so I need his help.”

“He’s not here; he’s in Sanhe Village. If you really want to find him, just head straight south from here, then turn right. It’s about five or six li—ask for directions and you’ll find it. What business do you have with Master Li, young man?” The old fellow was nosy, his eyes probing.

Of course, Wei Qi didn’t tell him the real reason—he made up an excuse.

Before we left, Wei Qi pulled out fifty yuan and handed it to the old man, telling him to keep the change. The old man smiled, accepted the money without protest, and motioned for us to sit down again. “If it’s not a real emergency, you’d best not go looking for him. That man is not ordinary; most people can’t even get to see him, and his nickname is ‘the Living Dead.’ He carries a heavy shadow, and ordinary people can’t withstand it—those with weak fortunes often fall ill just from being near him.”

The Living Dead?

That was enough to send a chill down my spine. But for Wei Qi and me, we’d seen plenty in our time. We’d met not just so-called living dead, but actual corpses, female ghosts, evil spirits—we’d encountered them all. Of course, we wouldn’t be afraid of this. Thanking the old man, we set off for Sanhe Village. On the way, we discussed things and picked up some gifts. Wei Qi liked liquor, and thought Li Danian might as well, so we bought a case of premium Guiren Dao, along with some health supplements.

By the time we reached Sanhe Village, the evening sun was already sinking at the village entrance. Bathed in the afterglow, Wei Qi, peering out from under his eye mask, took in the scenery for a while. “Dachuan, this is a place of great fortune! Look—the three rivers meet here, the green hills guard the rear, it faces south with its back to the north. In ancient times, this could have produced emperors!”

“No emperors here, just a living dead man. Let’s hurry up and get into the village.” My mind was preoccupied with Wang Ying at home; I had no mood to discuss geomancy with him.

The village was a typical rural settlement, outwardly no different from any other in the Yimeng Mountains of China. Once inside, we saw few people. We finally stopped a young man and explained our purpose. The young man pointed to the mountain behind us. “You see that mountain? He’s up there—in the apple orchard.”

I wanted to ask for more details, but the young man shook his head, saying he’d never been inside, didn’t know what it was like in the orchard, nor what kind of house Li Danian lived in.

I was about to ask someone else, but Wei Qi grabbed my hand and headed straight for the mountain, saying there was no need. A man of such mystery would never live at the foot of the hill.

The mountain path was rough, and darkness was falling. I carried the case of liquor, while Wei Qi hauled bags of pastries. We were both exhausted by the time we finally saw the orchard.

People in the countryside know orchards well; they’re all much the same: a fence to keep out thieves, a few watchdogs at the gate, and a couple of cottages for the caretakers.

But in the deepening dusk, this orchard was different—no fences, no dogs, just a shadowy expanse.

“Shall we go in?” I asked, a little uneasy.

“Of course. This has to be the place.” Wei Qi nodded, heading straight for the orchard. Though night had fallen, the moon was up—its harsh, early-waxing light bright in the clear sky.

“Is anyone there?” After a few steps, Wei Qi began calling out. The empty echo returned to us—no reply. He called several times, but only the whistling mountain wind answered.

“What now?” I looked at Wei Qi.

“Let’s go in—he’s definitely here.” Wei Qi pointed to a faint red glow on the left.

As we drew near, we saw a small, shabby house—little more than a makeshift hut propped up with wooden poles, resembling the melon sheds old men use to watch their fields. A lantern hung from a stick at the door, an old-fashioned one: glass shade, cotton wick, burning kerosene—unfazed by wind or rain.

Seeing this, Wei Qi set down our things and called out respectfully, “Master Li, are you there? Wei Qi and Wang Dachuan from Xuanyi Sect have come to pay their respects.” He called several times, but no one answered.

I glanced at Wei Qi, who smacked his lips. “Maybe he’s out. Let’s wait inside.”

I followed him in. The room was small—a simple bamboo bed, spartan but very clean. On the eastern wall stood a pitch-black coffin. It’s common in the countryside—once people reach sixty, they start preparing their burial clothes and coffin. So seeing one at home is no surprise.

I looked at Wei Qi, thinking this place didn’t seem like Li Danian’s residence—more like a caretaker’s hut, except for that coffin.

Wei Qi said nothing, just motioned for me to sit. The room had several little wooden stools. Since Wei Qi was convinced this was the place, I trusted him and waited.

We sat there for over two hours in silence. I wanted to speak, but Wei Qi’s glare silenced me. His eyes said, “Wait respectfully, don’t speak.” My thoughts wandered to Wang Ying—who knew how she was faring now. The more I thought, the more my heart ached. My resolve only grew stronger: no matter what, I had to save her. I’d even made up my mind—once she recovered, I’d take her home and restore her original body. In truth, I preferred her as she was before.

Time slipped by, and both Wei Qi and I grew drowsy. The moon outside had begun to sink, casting a dim, gloomy light. I glanced at Wei Qi, who was nodding off, drooling onto his arm. I had a vague feeling that Li Danian might not return tonight. Someone so unusual would surely sense our arrival and deliberately avoid us.

Knock, knock.

Lost in my thoughts, I was startled by a sudden sound. I nearly tumbled off my stool.

Wei Qi awoke too, swiveling his head. “What was that?”

On a night like this, with no one else around—a solitary lamp, a lonely cottage—the sudden noise in the stillness was truly unnerving. I looked around, and Wei Qi’s gaze warned me not to move.

Tap, tap, tap-tap, tap-tap-tap.

The sound came again, this time clearly from inside the room—from the coffin. My hair stood on end. I jumped up to run, but Wei Qi grabbed me.

Wei Qi squeezed my hand, nodded at me, and bowed respectfully toward the coffin. “Master Li, Dachuan and I have come so abruptly, we must have disturbed your rest. Please forgive us!”

I instantly understood and felt even more admiration for Wei Qi. He wasn’t much older than me, yet seemed to have such foresight. No wonder Second Uncle had sent me to find him.

After Wei Qi bowed, the coffin fell silent again.

What was going on? Had Wei Qi misjudged after all?

“Master Li, we’re here only because we have no other choice. This is what happened…” Bowing, Wei Qi retold everything that had happened to Wang Ying and me these past few days, leaving out no detail.

A minute or so passed after he finished. Then the coffin creaked; the lid slid open, and out climbed a man dressed all in black. At the sight of him, I couldn’t help but shudder three times.

He was short—no more than one-sixty—thin and wiry, with skin like a walnut, but not a strand of white in his jet-black hair. Most unnerving of all were his eyes—one appeared perfectly normal, black and white distinct; the other was entirely white, terrifying to behold.

“You two boys have guts! Sneaking in here at midnight—aren’t you afraid a black bear might lick you clean?” The old man sat down, glancing at us sidelong.

“Master Li, we’ve come to see you about something. Besides, there aren’t many black bears left now with so many people around,” Wei Qi replied respectfully.

“I’m no master—just an old caretaker. You two should go back.” The old man didn’t even look at us, just grabbed some kindling and started making a fire for tea.

“Master Li, I know you’re him. We truly need your help. I’ve already explained everything while you were in the coffin. Please, help him.” Wei Qi was a true friend; since I wasn’t great with words, I left it all to him.

The old man gave Wei Qi a look, pondering for a moment. “What’s your name? How did you know I was Li Danian?”

“To be honest, sir, we’re both shadow-walkers. My name is Wei Qi—my master is Duan Sandao. This is Wang Dachuan, son of Wang Liang, nephew of Wang Jun.” I understood Wei Qi’s intent—he was announcing our credentials. Ours was one of the three hundred and sixty trades, serving both the living and the dead. There’s camaraderie in the profession, so Wei Qi revealed our background.

The old man nodded. “I know your master. Haven’t seen him in years. I know Wang Liang too—very gifted, though he took the wrong path. All right, since we’re all acquaintances, tell me—what do you want from me?”

With that, hope glimmered anew for Wei Qi and me. Our faces lit up; this must be Li Danian, without a doubt.

Wei Qi once more explained our purpose in coming. In fact, he’d already recounted everything while Li Danian was in the coffin.

After listening, Li Danian was silent for a long while before speaking. “I’m sorry, but this time I may disappoint you both. I’m not capable anymore—look, my Yin Eye is ruined. Cataracts—I can’t see what’s hidden in the graves.”

Li Danian’s words sent my heart plunging once again. So there was such a thing? But it was true: when he’d climbed out of the coffin, I’d seen that his right eye was clouded completely white, just like cataracts. Now what was I to do?