At dawn, the light morning mist permeated the valley of Qingtian Village, like a piece of rice paper that was crumpled and spread out at random. The breeze blew, and the morning mist surged slightly, just like the folds of rice paper, outlining a dreamlike scene in this quiet world. Li the peddler carried a shoulder pole and walked leisurely on the winding village road. The shoulder pole was overwhelmed and made a creaking sound, as if telling of the fatigue of the journey. The rouge and powder in the bamboo basket, under the thin morning light, flickered with a faint light, like a spirit endowed with life.
Li the peddler was humming a tuneless tune while enjoying the tranquility of the early morning, his steps brisk and leisurely. However, he did not notice that on the branches of the old locust tree at the entrance of the village, a few crows were flapping their wings anxiously. The black feathers fell like black snowflakes, and sprinkled on the wet mud, instantly leaving dark marks, as if foreshadowing the upcoming ominous things. Usually at this time of the day, the village would have been bustling, and women would carry bamboo baskets and shuttle through the streets and alleys, chirping and gathering around, picking out needles, thread, rouge and other things. But today, the whole bluestone street was abnormally quiet, and the dead silence made people feel uneasy.
Li the peddler stopped, rubbed his red hands, blew a breath of hot air to warm his fingers, and was about to shout at the top of his lungs to break the uneasy silence. At this moment, a dull sound came from the direction of the ancestral hall. The sound was like someone dropping a heavy copper basin on the ground, echoing in the empty village, making people's eardrums hurt. Li the peddler was startled and the pole in his hand almost slipped. He subconsciously stood on tiptoes and looked in the direction of the ancestral hall. I saw a wisp of green smoke rising from the eaves of the ancestral hall. The color of the green smoke was not the grayish white color produced by the burning of ordinary firewood, but it seemed to be stained with thick ink, as dark as night, twisting strangely in the air, just like a smart snake, twisting its body at will. At the same time, a rusty smell of blood came with the breeze and penetrated into Li the peddler's nostrils, making him frown and an inexplicable fear surged in his heart.
"Aunt Lin? Are you in there?" Peddler Li summoned up his courage and shouted towards the ancestral hall. His voice trembled slightly, sounding particularly weak in the silent air. He took a deep breath, held the shoulder pole tightly, and walked towards the ancestral hall step by step. The red lanterns hanging under the corridor flickered in the lingering smoke, as if they would go out at any time. Peddler Li came to the door of the ancestral hall, stretched out his hand and gently pushed open the half-closed carved wooden door. With a "creak", the door slowly opened, and a mixture of damp and moldy smell and strange sweet fishy smell came to his face, choking him and making him cough.
Walking into the ancestral hall, Li the peddler's eyes were instantly attracted by the incense burner on the altar. Green smoke was coming out of the incense burner, and the green smoke seemed to have life, wandering freely between the beams and pillars. Wherever it passed, dark water stains quickly appeared on the blue bricks, as if a mysterious pattern was outlined by an invisible brush. Li the peddler stared at the half-burned incense in the incense burner with wide eyes, and was shocked to find that the incense ash did not fall down as usual, but was suspended in the air, slowly condensing into tiny particles. These particles were arranged and combined together, vaguely forming some strange words, as if telling an unknown secret.
Just when Li the peddler was at a loss for words at the sight in front of him, there was a dull sound of a heavy object falling to the ground in the backyard. Li the peddler was shocked and his heart tightened suddenly. He subconsciously clenched the shoulder pole in his hand, using it as his only self-defense weapon. He swallowed his saliva and carefully groped his way to the backyard along the bluestone corridor. With every step, his heartbeat became more and more rapid, and cold sweat kept sliding down his forehead. When he came to the backyard, he saw that the door of the woodshed was wide open, and it was a mess inside, with debris scattered all over the floor. In the corner, there was a figure curled up. Li the peddler looked closely and found that it was the hunter Lao Zhou in the village.
"Old Zhou! Old Zhou! What's wrong with you?" Peddler Li rushed over, squatted down, shook Old Zhou's shoulders, and shouted anxiously. Old Zhou slowly raised his head and suddenly opened his eyes. At that moment, Peddler Li was so scared that he almost cried out. Old Zhou's eyes were turbid and without a trace of spirit. His pupils shrank sharply to the size of a needle tip, as if he was shrouded in extreme fear. His lips trembled, and he muttered to himself: "Green smoke. That green smoke will eat people. It's too scary."
Before Li the peddler could recover from the shock, a child's sharp cry suddenly came from outside the ancestral hall. His heart tightened, and he stood up suddenly. Without thinking too much, he rushed out of the ancestral hall. I saw a dozen villagers gathered around the well, looking panicked. Some of them held lanterns in their hands. The dim light scattered in the diffuse morning mist, breaking into pieces of mottled light spots, reflecting the frightened faces of the people. Li the peddler squeezed into the crowd with great effort, and looked into the well. He saw a goat's body floating in the well, and the death was extremely strange. The goat's fur showed an abnormal purple-blue color, as if it had been eroded by evil forces; its eyes bulged, full of endless fear; its limbs were twisted into a knot, as if it had suffered great pain. What was even more creepy was that there was a circle of fine tooth marks around its neck, densely packed, as if it had been bitten by some small creature with sharp teeth.
"What kind of evil has happened to me! Oh my God!" There was a gasp in the crowd, followed by various panicked discussions. Li the peddler felt his scalp tingling, and a chill ran up his spine from the soles of his feet. He subconsciously wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and looked towards the ancestral hall. The wisp of green smoke had become thicker and thicker, interweaving in the sky, gradually forming a vague human-shaped outline, like an invisible ghost, spying on the world.
Peddler Li was watching intently when someone patted his shoulder. He was so frightened that he trembled all over and turned his head suddenly, only to see a young face appear in front of him. "Uncle Li, have you seen my father?" A young man's voice came. Peddler Li looked closely and saw that the boy in front of him was about sixteen or seventeen years old, with delicate eyebrows and eyes, revealing an innate spiritual aura. There were some grass debris on his temples, which made him look a little embarrassed. The boy held a slingshot tightly in his hand and hung a cowhide wine pot on his waist. The wine pot swayed gently with his movements. It was obvious that he had just returned from hunting in the back mountain. Peddler Li recognized that the boy was Lin Feng, the only son of the village chief.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Just as Li the peddler was about to answer, a piercing scream suddenly came from the direction of the ancestral hall, breaking the silence of the early morning. Everyone looked in the direction of the sound, and saw that the outline of the human figure transformed by the green smoke suddenly became clear. It was actually a woman in a plain white skirt. Her long hair fell like a black waterfall, and green vines like water plants were entwined in her hair, like an elf walking out of a mysterious underwater world. However, the most bizarre thing was that two translucent dragon horns grew on her forehead. Under the reflection of the morning light, they glowed with a cold luster, as if emitting mysterious power. Her face was blurred and hazy, but her eyes were frighteningly bright, like glass beads immersed in a cold pond, cold and deep, making people afraid to look at them.
When Lin Feng saw this scene, he felt his head buzzing, as if he was hit by a heavy hammer, his temples throbbing, and his heart began to beat wildly uncontrollably. His sight seemed to be drawn by an invisible force, uncontrollably attracted to the woman, and his feet involuntarily walked towards the direction of Qingyan. In his ears, there was a faint whispering sound, which seemed to come from a distant time and space, and it seemed to sound directly in his mind, as if someone was chanting an ancient and mysterious spell, bewitching his mind.
When Lin Feng's fingertips touched the blue smoke, a bone-chilling chill quickly ran up his arm and back, as if countless cold steel needles were piercing his body. At the same time, a dazzling white light suddenly flashed before his eyes, and his consciousness instantly fell into chaos. Memories surged towards him like a surging tide, and pictures kept flashing in his mind - a dark and damp cellar, with green moss growing on the walls and emitting a disgusting smell; a spell was burning in a copper basin, and the jumping flames reflected the strange environment around; a low and vague voice was repeating: "Qingming Mirror, broken and then established." The scene turned, and he saw himself kneeling in front of an ancient altar, his palm was cut by a sharp blade, blood gushed out, and dripped onto a broken bronze mirror. The severe pain made his body tremble violently, and cold sweat fell like rain.
After an unknown amount of time, Lin Feng slowly opened his eyes and found that the phantom of the woman had dissipated, and the green smoke also turned into wisps of fine silk, like a naughty elf, and drilled into the gaps between the bricks and tiles of the ancestral hall. "Lin Feng!" At this moment, his father's voice came from behind him, pulling him back to reality from his trance. Village chief Lin Zhengyuan squeezed through the crowd and walked quickly to Lin Feng's side. His face was as pale as paper, without any blood. His eyes were fixed on the direction of the ancestral hall, his lips trembling, and he muttered to himself: "It's the breath of the Qingming Mirror. Could it be that the seal back then has failed? What should I do." He turned around suddenly, grabbed Lin Feng's wrist, and said seriously: "Go back to your room immediately, and don't take a step out! Do you hear me?"
Before Lin Feng could ask what happened, a shrill wolf howl suddenly came from afar. The sound was long and terrifying, as if it came from the depths of hell. The villagers looked into the distance in horror, and saw groups of wild wolves emerging like a tide in the thick fog behind the mountain. The eyes of these wild wolves flashed with a faint green light, like a ghost fire, and the corners of their mouths dripped with fishy saliva. They were completely different from the docile mountain wolves on weekdays. At this moment, they seemed to be controlled by some evil force and became extremely ferocious.
The crowd suddenly exploded and fell into chaos. Some people screamed in panic and turned to run home; some people picked up the farm tools beside them, trying to protect themselves and their families. In the chaos, Lin Feng accidentally caught a glimpse of a white shadow flashing by the well. He looked closely and saw the phantom of the woman appeared again. This time she was standing quietly on the edge of the well. The dragon horns on her forehead were shining with a faint blue light under the moonlight, like a mysterious star in the night sky. She stretched out her hand towards Lin Feng, with wisps of green smoke wrapped around her fingertips, and there was an indescribable temptation in her eyes, as if calling Lin Feng to walk towards her.
Lin Feng involuntarily raised his foot and wanted to walk towards the woman. At this moment, his father Lin Zhengyuan was quick to grab him. "Don't go over there!" Lin Zhengyuan's voice was trembling and fearful as never before. "That is the guardian of the Qingming Mirror. Once a mortal touches it, his mind will be devoured and he will be doomed!" He turned around and shouted to the villagers around him: "Quick! Go and get the house-guarding talisman! Surround the ancestral hall! We can't let this evil thing get out!"
Night fell quietly, and Qingtian Village was shrouded in an eerie silence. Lin Feng lay on the bed, looking at the flickering candlelight outside the window, with a myriad of thoughts in his mind. The woman's whispers still echoed in his ears, as if lingering like a ghost. He reached out and took out the copper piece in his arms, which he had picked up in the ancestral hall. The copper piece was engraved with ancient and mysterious runes, and the edges of the runes were stained with dark red blood, as if telling an unknown history. When the moonlight shone through the window and sprinkled on the copper piece, the runes suddenly emitted a faint light, and Lin Feng seemed to see the woman's cold eyes again, and her voice rang in his ears again: "Come to me."
The crows cried from the old locust tree at the entrance of the village. The sound was shrill and sad, as if tolling the death knell for this quiet village. Lin Feng turned over and sat up, looking out the window, only to see that the green smoke had quietly gathered again, slowly outlining the outline of Lin Wanqiu in the air. Her dragon horns became clearer, and her plain white skirt fluttered gently in the wind without making a sound, like a quiet and strange painting. Her eyes quietly swept across Lin Feng's window, and a faint smile appeared at the corner of her mouth, and then turned into green smoke again and dissipated in the vast night.
Deep in the ancestral hall, the fragments of the Qingming Mirror half buried under the blue bricks were slightly hot, like a heart about to wake up, and the ancient seal was gradually loosening. The mountain wind whistled past, rolling up the dead leaves on the ground, rustling, as if whispering the secrets of Qingtian Village, quietly carrying these secrets away. At this moment in Bianjing, the horns of the war could be heard faintly, and a magnificent change of wind and cloud was about to begin. No one knew that the strange changes in this remote mountain village would become the key to changing the world's situation, and the gears of fate had quietly begun to turn.
