Leading up to the broken dam was a swell in the stream, forming a small pond that encroached about one, two meters into the sides. It was quite clear, most of the sediment having sunk to the bottom, with fish swimming and lingering within. On one side, there were slopes that tracked up to the banks— though it was softened by nature, it seemed like those were where people dragged the bodies out of the water.
Shen Jing had expected the stench of death. Still, it hit like a truck— the bodies had been removed from the site, but it had only been a day and the smell still lingered, the sickeningly sweet undertone making everything even more nauseating. Fang Xiaoxiao, leading ahead, immediately turned tail. Expression like she was about to retch, she bounded over to Xuan Lang, passing by him to head right into the deeper woods behind and spit behind a tree.
“Da-shixiong…” she whined, before then vomiting.
“It’s disgusting, isn’t it?” Xuan Lang said calmly. “Death and cases like these are nothing to take lightly. Go drink some water and rinse your mouth.”
Shen Jing managed somewhat better. As soon as he smelled it, he rummaged through his things and pulled out a handkerchief, folding it several times before holding it over his nose. In his ears, Assistant 51C was asking if he wanted help with it. When he began to tremble from holding back, she added a gentle scent to the handkerchief and made it filter the smell out better.
“Here,” Xuan Lang said. When Shen Jing turned around, he saw that Xuan Lang had a handkerchief to his face, too, and that Fang Xiaoxiao now had one. In his outstretched hand was a small bottle of something. “Add it to your handkerchief. It helps a lot more.”
It really did, in ways that probably wasn’t natural in the real world. Shen Jing wasn’t about to question it. Now that everyone had a better grasp on the reality of the situation, they walked in more solemn steps to the dam, looking around as they did so.
Navigating the thin strip of land by the imposing trees without plopping right into the water was tricky, but Shen Jing managed. Past the dam, he could see the trickling water rejoining a calmer, thinner stream about 20 centimeter lower. Finger-sized silver fish bit the water’s surface with their tiny round mouths, making popping sounds reminiscent of raindrops on a puddle. Fang Xiaoxiao had used the dam to spring to the other end, while Xuan Lang squatted by the pond and studied its bottom. Though it was clearer, it was only in comparison to the main river— the movement of the water and the quick turns of the fish every now and then kicked up the sand at the bottom, turning the pond a pale, milky brown hue.
Shen Jing stuck a branch into the water. The fish dispersed, wary of the sudden intruder, but soon stopped caring.
“There’s a lot of fish here,” Fang Xiaoxiao commented.
After some time, Xuan Lang stood up and walked around, inspecting the grounds around the dam. Shen Jing frankly didn’t know what to do himself, so he checked back with Assistant 51C.
“Wu-jie, how are things? How is it going with the others?”
<Ji Hualiu is at work convincing the folks over there. Turns out He Jiangshan’s pretty good at making shit up. Wanna see?>
“A bit…”
It seemed to have been done for his own enjoyment, but Assistant 51C even set it up in a widescreen ratio, as if this was a movie. The camera didn’t move around, thank goodness, but Shen Jing could see clearly the fancy decorations in the room, the carving on the table— all in high fidelity, with only the angle and proportions reminding him that this wasn’t, in fact, something right in front of him. On one side of the table was a middle aged man and an old woman, and on the other were Ji Hualiu, He Jiangshan and Bai Nian. Bai Nian, of course, was there to cross his arms and intimidate through presence.
“There’s clearly a pattern in the people they’re targeting ba, and they’re vicious about it,” He Jiangshan said, hands waving in unclear articulation. “Branches the size of thighs are being broken under this yao’s feet, and it’s leaving blood of its victims on trees where they murdered them. Why do you think kids aren’t playing there anymore? Because the place they play at and where the murder happens are one and the same, the fact that none of them got hurt— seriously, they have one target and one target only. Right now, in its current disguise, tracking it down is like trying to find one specific rat in an entire town.”
“Our Mount Song Sect tries to be the best it can be for our supporting towns, but we are also not of infinite manpower,” Ji Hualiu said. Her voice was even and slow, switching the atmosphere from He Jiangshan’s vivid and hurried persuasion to calm, logical appeal. “It’s in everyone’s best interests that everyone meeting the criteria likely to be targeted stay where we can protect them.”
“Wouldn’t it mean everyone it would target would be gathered in one place, making it more likely to be attacked?” the middle-aged man said. His voice carried a hint of coldness in it.
He Jiangshan couldn’t quite curb the baffled expression that set in at that, though he smothered it as quickly as he could. “I mean… The biggest difference between the two scenario is, one of them, you wouldn’t even know if they’ll strike or not, with a much bigger chance of not getting help in time if you’re the unlucky person drawing the shortest lot. I guess it’s a gamble… If you’re into that?”
“Nobody is forcing anyone to follow our requests, of course,” Ji Hualiu cut in, trying to smoothen the jagged edges of He Jiangshan’s words. “That is all we’d like to say. If you’ll excuse us.”
Shen Jing turned away from the view, returning to reality. Wondering, he said, “Do you think that pissed off the middle-aged man? Who is he, anyway?”
<He’s just some guy. Not part of the bullies, he was a couple years older than them and didn’t hang out with those kids. On the backend, looks like the world-builder made him cousins with one of the victims, though.>
“Huh… The world generator takes a lot of creative liberties.” With an inhale, Shen Jing stood up and started to look around, too. Xuan Lang was on the other side of the river now, and through natural developments seemed to have switched roles with Fang Xiaoxiao, who was tracing the waters further downstream. After some time, Xuan Lang seemed to notice Shen Jing’s gaze and beckoned him over.
“Errm…” Shen Jing eyed the dam the other two had used to spring to the other end hesitantly. When Xuan Lang moved though, as if coming over, he hurried to jump— no, he wasn’t going to disappoint da-shixiong even more by not having the courage to step on some slippery stones. Shen Jing almost botched his landing, but it was fine, it just took him several more steps to stabilize— and his head bumped against someone’s torso. “I, I… sorry?”
“Be careful,” Xuan Lang said as he helped Shen Jing up. “Help me find something.”
Shen Jing blinked. “Like… Ah, like if there’s a tomb somewhere?”
Xuan Lang’s eyes were appraising now. “How’d you come to that conclusion?”
“Uh, I mean… if the yao cares enough about Xiao-Ze to do all this, it’s unlikely that it’s going to let him suffer in the afterlife, too…” Already at the margins of society, died so young under hidden circumstances in an unknown location, how much would he be remembered as days passed? Someone had to remember him. Shen Jing knew that the yao was the one to keep that vigil.
After all, over a decade after the incident, the yao was directing everyone once again to this spot. There must be something valuable about it.
Xuan Lang nodded, and so they went and started their search. Fang Xiaoxiao was already deep into the forest now, half-hidden behind the trees as she followed the gentle curve of the river. On the forest ground were normal things, like rotting, mushy fruits, sticks and fallen branches, small pebbles… As Xuan Lang bent over to look at those, Shen Jing turned to where the trees were, looking for a reasonably-sized rock.
It didn’t take that long. Not too far from where Xuan Lang was standing was one in an odd position, as if it had tripped over the tree root it leaned against.
“Da-shixiong… it’s here.” Kneeling by the uneven, rectangular stone, Shen Jing heaved it until it flipped over. On one end was a dullness coming from long-term contact with dirt, while the rest seemed to have a bit more color to it; all of this was subtle, though, and the only thing that cemented this as a tombstone was the fact that a name was carved into it. The writing was rough, with uneven edges and too-deep engraving, but it was more or less readable.
“Mm,” Xuan Lang agreed. He tucked away his handkerchief, taking the smell of rot remarkably well, and lifted the tombstone and placed it back on the dirt clearing. The dull, scraping sound was all that Shen Jing could hear for a while. When he put it down with a hefty thud, it reverberated into Shen Jing’s chest. It felt like the stone had a weight far beyond its physical one, leaving the atmosphere solemn under its influence.
“Who’s there?” Fang Xiaoxiao’s voice rang clear, making Xuan Lang and Shen Jing tense and turn to her direction. Her eyes were fixed on something up in the trees, and her hand was already on the hilt of her wooden sword. The forest had gone silent. Only insects and flies dared to buzz, now, uncaring of the matter of predator and prey. “Don’t try to deceive me. I saw you.”
Silence.
After a while, though it was hard to pin it concretely, the atmosphere relaxed. Birds started chirping again, and the leaves rustled with activity; it seemed that whatever was there watching them had left. Xuan Lang said to Fang Xiaoxiao, “Good instinct.”
Eyebrows still furrowed, she nodded back. “What’s that, Da-shixiong?”
“The grave erected for Xiao-Ze,” he said. Setting the stone up straighter, he brushed the dirt clear and made sure it wouldn’t topple over. Shen Jing went to the water and grabbed some cupfuls to wash the stone off, rubbing its surface with his thumb. “It seemed to have been shoved aside when the people from the town found the bodies and were trying to fish it out. Offerings of fruits, not even on a plate, it probably just looked like some had fallen from a nearby tree. They probably didn’t notice.”
Suddenly, Shen Jing’s chest hurt. Behind his handkerchief, his mouth was twisted into a pained frown, and his eyes reddened. Fang Xiaoxiao noticed the changes and shot him a confused look; Xuan Lang looked up too when he saw her confusion. It only made Shen Jing more upset.
“What’s wrong, Xiao-shidi?” she asked. “It’s okay, we’ll make the townsfolk at least make up for what they’ve done…”
"This all happened because nobody noticed, didn't it?" Shaking his head, Shen Jing rubbed his eyes with the back of his damp hand. This was really making him look like he was crying— he was not. "Nobody noticed something was wrong, nobody noticed a child falling into a river, nobody even noticed what they knocked over. They..."
Fang Xiaoxiao rubbed his back. "Shhh…"
That was the crux of it all along. Xiao-Ze, the injustices he met in his short life, everything that happened wouldn't have come to such a bloody end if someone, anyone cared enough. His body was found, no doubt thanks to the yao, but nobody cared to look into it further. Shen Jing could almost taste the reasoning they used to wave it off. He probably drowned after slipping into the waters while playing. Poor kid. It tasted as vile as the smell of decomposition permeating this rotten place.
Here was a truth about the world that he understood, loathe as he was to know: people only cared about broad concepts of violence against the helpless. The victims were just numbers. In the end, they would always, like they had always been, be neglected for the sake of the status quo. Those actively hurting these abandoned sort were the ones swinging down the hammer, but it was those who watched and carried on with their lives that held the nail in place.
His torso felt like it had stretched taut to contain the grief of such an apathetic world.
A sigh. Then, a large, warm hand ruffled his hair.
"You and Xiaoxiao should go back. I'll stay here for a while longer."
Fang Xiaoxiao nodded and started guiding him back. "Once we're done with this, we can bring Xiao-Ze some nicer offerings, okay? Let's buy some cakes and come back. It's okay, don't cry."
Shen Jing rubbed his eyes harder. "I'm not crying…"
"Then look at the road ba, don't trip…"
As their voices faded with distance, Xuan Lang’s eyes turned to the spot Fang Xiaoxiao was staring at when she called out to the one watching them. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel it: a glint in the dark, lying in wait, as it had been for years on end.
Thanks for the Chapter
Thank you for the chapter!!