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Chapter 1

In mid-September, Jiangnan is still in the burning season, but the “Qinling-Huaihe” line has gradually entered the coolness of autumn.

Around ten o’clock in the evening, the area around Xingbazi Village, Shihe County, Ankai City, is almost pitch black, except for a few points of light in the west corner. The surrounding mountains cast shadows, and the wind rustles through the forest, making the light seem like flickering candle flames.

The people of Xingbazi Village are accustomed to living in the east of the village; the west side is wild land. Before the liberation, there was a temple and a sacrificial altar built there, and shamans were invited to ward off disasters and exorcise ghosts. Later, during the great movement, everything was destroyed and burned, leaving the place abandoned. After that, somehow, a large area of corn grew here, but unfortunately, the variety was poor and only suitable for feeding pigs.

At this time of year, most of the corn has been harvested, leaving only man-high yellow stalks in the field. The stalks are thin and dense, rustling eerily when the wind blows through them.

The few lights came from a dilapidated temple in the middle of the cornfield and the off-road vehicle outside the temple.

With the driver’s side window partially open, Sun Zhou rested his left hand holding a cigarette on the window sill, talking on the phone with his girlfriend Qiao Ya. Engrossed in the conversation, he forgot to smoke and had to shake off the ash every so often.

“This place is so rural, no one around… I’m telling you, I’m creeped out.”

He glanced around and suddenly felt insecure with his left hand exposed outside the car, so he put out the cigarette and pulled his hand back.

Qiao Ya had heard about this place: “It’s in the mountains, right? I heard from my grandfather that before the liberation, it was a bandit area, where many people were killed and there were ghost stories.”

Sun Zhou felt a shiver on his arm and instinctively looked left and right: to the left was a pitch-black field of stalks, swaying in the wind and creating an eerie, chilling atmosphere; to the right was the temple, its light flickering like faint fireflies, drifting slowly.

“What can I do? Miss Nie wanted to see the mud sculptures, and she’s an artist.”

“It’s my fault, I took a wrong turn on the way, so we arrived late, and Miss Nie got so absorbed in looking that I didn’t want to rush her…”

He was a line driver, and Miss Nie was his employer; whether to go or when to go was decided by the employer.

Qiao Ya complained: “Looking at sculptures? Why not go to Longmen or Dunhuang? Why come to the countryside…”

Sun Zhou replied, “Didn’t I say she’s an artist? Those famous grottoes, she’s already seen them all by her teens. Now it’s trendy to find these rural, primitive places to spark creative inspiration.”

Qiao Ya was at a loss for words, and after a pause, asked, “I heard she can sell a statue for tens of thousands?”

Sun Zhou didn’t know the number, but pretended to be knowledgeable: “Art can’t be that cheap, at least over a hundred thousand.”

Qiao Ya sighed and finally said, “Miss Nie is bold.”

“Indeed,” Sun Zhou agreed, “It’s pitch black here, and we’re in the Qinba Mountains. I’m telling you, I’m really on edge. If some criminals show up and kill us…”

Qiao Ya snapped, “I’m not talking about that. I’m saying, she’s a young woman, daring to come to such a remote place with you in the middle of the night—she’s not afraid you might take advantage of her?”

“I’m professional, I do my job with integrity. Besides, we’ve known each other for a few days, which is like knowing someone.”

Qiao Ya sneered, “Knowing someone? They say half of sexual crimes are committed by acquaintances. Women should be wary of men, regardless of how well they know them. If it were me, I wouldn’t dare go to the countryside with a male driver I don’t know well, not even with male colleagues or classmates.”

Sun Zhou cheekily asked, “What about me, am I okay?”

Qiao Ya flirted back, “You’re okay.”

Sun Zhou, feeling a stir of excitement, was about to say something flirtatious when he suddenly saw a shadow pass by in the rearview mirror on the left side of the car.

He was startled and dropped his phone: “Who’s there?”

In response, he only heard the rustling sound of the wind through the stalks.

Sun Zhou opened the car door and looked around, feeling as if there was something or nothing in the cornfield.

Picking up his phone, the call had not ended, and Qiao Ya was anxiously asking, “What’s wrong? Who’s there?”

Sun Zhou felt a chill down his spine: “Nothing, I’ll go… hurry Miss Nie along.”

He ended the call and jogged towards the temple—though he was 1.8 meters tall and looked robust, it was just for show; he couldn’t handle any real trouble.

Moreover, he was with the delicate Miss Nie.

The temple wasn’t large; passing through the door and courtyard led directly to the main hall. Years ago, it had been vandalized and burned. Later, the Cultural Heritage Bureau began repairs, but halfway through, they either ran out of funds or deemed it unworthy, and the work was abandoned.

In the main hall, the altar was crowded with mud sculptures. Miss Nie, Nie Jiuluo, wearing a white shirt and black tight pants, was perched on top of a portable aluminum telescopic ladder. With her left hand holding a flashlight, she was carefully examining the eyes and eyebrows of a mud sculpture. On her wrist, she wore multiple thin, delicate bracelets that shimmered with a soft silver light.

The temple was dimly lit, and the flashlight’s beam illuminated floating dust particles.

Sun Zhou remembered that when they arrived in the evening, these mud sculptures were covered in dust. Now, the one she was examining was cleaned, with distinct facial features and enhanced colors.

He called out, “Miss Nie.”

Nie Jiuluo turned around.

She was around twenty-five or twenty-six, with a slender figure and long, jet-black hair. Her skin was pale and cool-toned, the kind of porcelain white that didn’t need any powder or foundation. Instead, she used a reddish lipstick—pale lips often look tired on cool-toned skin without it.

As she turned, the face of the mud sculpture was also revealed. Though the sculpture was damaged, it was still beautiful, though its beauty was unrefined and somewhat demonic. Nie Jiuluo’s bangs fell low over her eyebrows, and her black eyes and snowy white skin with red lips aligned perfectly with the face of the sculpture.

The two faces—one living, one inanimate, one flesh, one clay—made Sun Zhou feel as if Nie Jiuluo’s face had a more captivating allure compared to the sculpture.

He recalled Qiao Ya’s comments about lust and thought: Even if there was an opportunity, I wouldn’t dare do anything to her.

“Miss Nie, it’s already past ten. Let’s head back and come again tomorrow. The security around here isn’t very good, and the road conditions are poor…”

Nie Jiuluo understood immediately: “Alright, I’ll take a few photos and then we’ll leave.”

After taking the photos, Sun Zhou packed the ladder and other items into the trunk. As he closed the car lid, he glanced back.

It seemed like there was a sound, a mournful wail as if a woman was… sobbing.

Sun Zhou was startled by his imagination, his hair standing on end. He quickly jumped into the car.

Nie Jiuluo was sitting in the back seat, carefully reviewing the photos she had just taken.

Sun Zhou cleared his throat. “Miss Nie, did you hear any… strange noises?”

Nie Jiuluo looked puzzled. “What strange noises?”

As expected, Sun Zhou realized he couldn’t count on her. Artists tend to be so absorbed in their work that even a loud noise wouldn’t disturb them once they’re immersed.

He changed the subject. “You’re from out of town, so you might not know… this area used to be called Nanba Old Forest. There were bandits and a heavy atmosphere of death…”

Nie Jiuluo replied, “I know. Nanba Old Forest was a primeval forest. From the Eastern Han Dynasty, the area was restricted as a mountain region, ‘the mountains are like seas, and there are no trees in the forest.’ During the Qing Dynasty, a large number of refugees came in, and the White Lotus Rebellion started here. Later, bandits occupied the area until they were cleared out after the founding of the People’s Republic.”

Sun Zhou was astonished. “You know all that?”

Nie Jiuluo looked back down at the photos. “I was interested in regional history in college and took it as a minor.”

A minor in something so detailed while excelling in her major—no wonder she could make a lot of money and travel in cars, while he could only drive people around late at night.

Sun Zhou sighed and started the car.

The road in this area was uneven, and Sun Zhou, being cautious with his car, was driving very slowly. As he was preparing to turn, a woman suddenly appeared in the field of stalks on the right.

At that moment, the headlights illuminated the spot. Sun Zhou saw the woman’s face was deathly pale, covered in blood, with bulging eyes and dilated pupils. It seemed as if she was trying to scream for help, but a thick, dark brown arm from behind had wrapped around her neck and dragged her back into the field of stalks in an instant.

The scene was fleeting but shockingly intense, so much so that even after the woman had disappeared, Sun Zhou’s retinas were still etched with those bulging eyes.

His blood rushed to his head, and with a startled “Ah!” he instinctively slammed on the brakes.

The car jolted abruptly, and Nie Jiuluo, unprepared, almost crashed into the seat in front of her.

She steadied herself and looked up at Sun Zhou. “What’s wrong?”

What was wrong?

Sun Zhou was breathing heavily. On the left and right, and in front and behind the car, all he could see was the stalks swaying, and amidst the rustling sound, occasionally the brittle snap of broken dry stems.

Was it an illusion?

He felt it wasn’t an illusion. At that very moment, something terrifying was happening outside the car.

What to do? Sun Zhou’s palms were sweating profusely. Should he confront it, or just pretend he didn’t see anything?

Seeing Sun Zhou’s silence, Nie Jiuluo grew more curious. “Is there something wrong with the car?”

“No, no,” Sun Zhou steadied himself and restarted the car. “Something darted across the front just now, and it startled me.”

Nie Jiuluo, believing him, said, “It was probably a rabbit or a rat. In these wild areas, especially near the mountains, there are many small animals.”

The car finally reached the county road, but Sun Zhou’s mind was in chaos.

What happened to that woman? Would she die? If she did, would he be blamed?

He immediately defended himself: It was the right thing to do, staying away from danger. Not everyone can act bravely; what if the woman was taken by a murderer? If he had gotten out to help, he might have been killed as well, and Nie Jiuluo would have been dragged into it too…

So, this was the right thing to do.

In this daze, he returned to the hotel.

Shihe County was a small place. The Jin Guang Hotel, a quasi-four-star establishment, was the best it had to offer. Before Nie Jiuluo went to her room, she arranged to meet him at nine the next morning, to return to Xingbazi Township.

Back to that place. They were going back.

Sun Zhou fell into a troubled sleep, tossing and turning all night, and had many fragmented dreams, blending various bizarre legends he had heard, vividly terrifying—

In the dead of night, Nie Jiuluo was cleaning a demonic statue in the dilapidated temple. She was alive, but the clay figure absorbed her yang energy, gradually coming to life, making faces, but she was completely unaware.

His car wouldn’t move no matter what. When he got out to check, he saw the tires wrapped in corn stalks. He struggled to tear them off, but the stalks seemed to have a life of their own, growing wildly, wrapping around his body and stabbing into his orifices.

The woman was dragged into the field of stalks. He pretended not to see, and the car sped onto the county road. Suddenly, the sound of cracking filled the air. Corn stalks grew in patches on the asphalt road, and within the stalks, shadowy forms floated, with the woman’s face appearing at times sorrowful, at times eerily smiling.

At nine in the morning, Sun Zhou, with two dark circles under his eyes, drove Nie Jiuluo back to Xingbazi Township.

This time, they took the correct route and arrived at the ruined temple just after ten.

As usual, Nie Jiuluo entered the temple and became completely absorbed in her work. Sun Zhou waited outside, scrolling through Weibo, watching Douyin, basking in the sun, and even climbed onto the car roof to look into the distance. The entire morning, only one motorcycle passed by from afar. The motorcycle was ridden by three burly men, overloaded and stacked together, like a moving mountain of flesh.

At noon, with the sun blazing, Sun Zhou chewed on bread, his mind wandering. As he chewed, his gaze inadvertently fixed on the dense stalks of corn nearby.

What had happened to that woman dragged into the cornfield? Had her body been discarded nearby or taken away for disposal? Or perhaps he had overthought it: there was no bloody crime; maybe it was just a domestic dispute, and she had only been beaten.

Sun Zhou pulled his gaze away and continued chewing his bread, but again, his eyes couldn’t help but wander back.

A voice in his head said: Look, go over and see. You’ll find out.

 

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An Owl Rising From The Green Soil

An Owl Rising From The Green Soil

Love On The Turquoise Land (Drama)
Score 8.0
Status: Ongoing Type: , Author: , Artist: Released: 2020 Native Language: Chinese
Over two thousand years ago on a deep night, Xu Fu* set sail to the eastern seas in a treasure ship to search for immortality, but few people knew that at the same time, a group of black-turban soldiers secretly entered the vast and dense Nanbao forest… A millennium later, the dark legend continues to slowly grow in the shadows. Xú Fú: Qin dynasty court necromancer and was tasked by Qin Shi Huang to look for the elixir of life between 219 BC and 210 BC. He never returned after departing on his second mission in 210 BC.

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