Las bellezas del Palacio Frío Una mujer sutil y seductora

Capítulo 18

He must have been to the holy mountain!

We were shocked; this was completely unexpected!

Brother Wang retorted, "Don't talk nonsense! Within a radius of dozens of miles, who would dare to go? Anyone who went would still be alive today! How do you know that!"

Sister Li said, "I always told you men that you're all brainless! Ayan married Lizhen and pampers her like a treasure. In our area, which family doesn't have women working in the fields? He's the only one who can't bear to let his wife work in the fields, and he goes to town every few days to buy this and that. Where does he get the money?"

"So what? They know how to hunt!" Brother Wang retorted.

"When it comes to hunting, he's not even the best hunter here. My two brothers from my mother's side are better than him! There are plenty of idle people in the surrounding mountains with guns, and wild animals have all gone deep into the mountains. It's already a rare treat to catch a pheasant or a rabbit! How can anyone like him bring home a dozen or twenty at a time?"

My brothers were unconvinced, so they secretly followed him and witnessed him enter the sacred mountain.

"That's because your brother is jealous of other people's abilities, so he's spreading rumors everywhere!" Brother Wang said sullenly.

“Fine, people usually hunt in groups of two or three, so they can help each other if they encounter wild animals or poisonous snakes. When did Ayan go hunting with anyone last year? How could such a strong young man suddenly fall ill? This is retribution! Go and see him now, he’s as thin as a ghost! It’s just a pity for Lizhen, she’ll probably be a widow.” Sister Li said indignantly.

Jiang Ping's eyes lit up, and he said, "That's great, Brother Wang! After dinner, take me to see Ayan's house!"

Ayan's house is on the edge of the village. The house is better built than the others, and the yard is clean. However, at first glance, the house can only be described as bare.

The woman named Lizhen was in the yard, engrossed in eating a bowl of boiled, pale potatoes, with no other vegetables.

"Brother Wang said we came to see Ayan. How is he?"

Upon hearing this, Lizhen burst into tears and hurriedly led us into the house.

There was a strong smell of tobacco in the room. When I entered the side room, I was startled. The man named Ayan had sunken eyes, a sallow complexion, and was very thin. He was smoking a cigarette with great concentration, looking like a heavy opium addict. His eyes were lifeless, and he didn't seem to change much when he saw us.

Jiang Ping nodded to me and whispered, "Possessed by a ghost!"

He turned to Brother Wang and said, "Could you please go home and bring me a rooster? Consider it a gift from me; I need it urgently."

Brother Wang's lips moved, but he left without asking any questions.

Jiang Ping gave Lizhen ten yuan: "Go to the village store and buy some paper money and candles. I can save your man!"

Lizhen looked at Jiang Ping in surprise, then suddenly knelt down with a thud, quickly kowtowed three times, and ran out.

Jiang Ping walked up to Ayan, leaned close to him, and said, "Ayan, I'm here to save you. You'll be fine in a bit! Have you been to the sacred mountain of the Miao people?"

He didn't speak, but tears welled up in his eyes, and he nodded with difficulty.

They quickly brought over chickens, incense, candles, and other items. Jiang Ping said, "Please all step outside for a moment. I need to exorcise the ghost."

We went outside and stood outside the door. Brother Wang asked in surprise in a low voice about Jiang Ping's identity. I briefly said that he was a person with magical powers, and he suddenly realized.

People probably thought that Ayan had passed away when they saw Lizhen buying paper money and incense, so they gathered around in twos and threes. Brother Wang, in a mysterious yet somewhat smug manner, introduced them to Jiang Ping's exorcism.

A rooster squawked once, and a moment later, the door opened. Jiang Ping came out carrying a chicken with a bleeding neck and handed it to Lizhen, saying, "Stew this chicken well. Later, strain the oil off the top and give him the clear broth. He'll recover slowly after a few days of rest."

I looked at Ayan in the room; he had closed his eyes and fallen into a deep sleep.

We left Ayan's house quickly; it was already past one o'clock, and we couldn't delay any longer.

Brother Wang led the way, taking us to the sacred mountain.

Jiang Ping said, "Ayan went there seven or eight times, and he didn't even tell his wife about it. He's very resilient; he actually survived for a year. If it had been a few days later, he probably wouldn't have been saved."

I know what this so-called curse is all about. It means that anyone who goes in will be possessed by a ghost and slowly tortured to death. I just sent the ghost away.

They even put two hundred yuan under his pillow so he could rest and recover.

We traveled along the mountain road, and saw the Jinsha River several times along the way. It was not as wide as the middle and lower reaches of the river, but the water was much clearer and flowed quickly between the two mountains.

After walking for about two hours, Brother Wang pointed to a dense forest and said, "It's just ahead, but you must think it through carefully, because there's no going back in life."

Jiang Ping took out fifty yuan and put it in his hand. He glared at him and said, "What are you doing?!"

Jiang Ping said, "Thank you for your hospitality, and also for the money for that rooster."

Brother Wang said angrily, "Take the money back right now! Ayan is my brother since childhood. If it can save his life, I wouldn't hesitate to give him anything, not just a chicken, but even a cow!"

He said as he walked back, "Go quickly and come back soon. I'll wait for you over at the stone bridge ahead."

I looked back at this magical, barren mountain and felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity, as if it wasn't something I'd seen in a dream before.

Jiang Ping stared blankly for a while, perhaps stirring up memories of his past life. He broke off two bamboo stalks, removed the branches and leaves, and handed one to me.

He said, "We followed the river, and Ayan also followed this route. Other places are dangerous and it's hard to say what kind of wild animals or poisonous snakes might be lurking around."

He led the way, which was initially covered in thorns and weeds, making it difficult to walk. After walking only a few dozen meters, a narrow path appeared. It was called a narrow path not because it was frequently used, but because the weeds and thorns had been cleared, creating a gap. Even so, the thorns along the way often tripped our clothes, forcing us to stop frequently.

Fortunately, the path wasn't very long; after walking about a hundred or two meters, we saw the old stone steps. Climbing the steps, we finally saw the barren mountain.

The barren mountain area is vast, mostly covered in weeds, surrounded by lush forests. Over the past eighty years, countless people who have strayed into it have lost their lives.

We walked uphill for a while; in some places the soil was scorched black, presumably from a fire, but there were still weeds.

It grew lush and green again, a vast expanse of yellow. When the wind blew, the whole hillside rippled with waves of yellow. Amidst the wild grass, a lone, large tree stood tall.

This almost enclosed place has become a paradise for birds and animals. We often saw various beautiful birds and pheasants flying by. Although we couldn't see them in the grass, animals were often seen moving through the weeds, which looked like a torrent flowing through the waves from above.

Jiang Ping sighed and said, "It's completely different from the scene in my dream. This place has been deserted for too long."

I looked at the ancient tree; it was probably more than a meter in diameter, with lush branches and leaves, and its bark was full of cracks. Many birds were hopping and jumping around in the tree.

Jiang Ping followed my gaze and suddenly exclaimed, "My God, my dream is real! There are still a few red fruits on the tree, can you see them?"

I squinted and sure enough, I saw some small red spots.

"You wait here, I'll go pick some fruit and come right back!" he said, using a bamboo pole to clear a path, tapping the grass as he went. Wherever he went, a rapid current spread outwards, and it was unknown how many wild animals lived in the grass.

He walked halfway and suddenly stopped. I looked at his back from afar and felt a strong sense of fear. I shouted, "Are you alright?"

He turned back and waved to me, then continued walking to the earthen platform in the middle. He stood in the tree and looked around, then struck the branches with a bamboo pole, and a hundred birds took flight.

He picked up a few small fruits and returned. When he came back, he passed by the place where he had just stopped and stood there for a while before emerging from the bushes.

I asked, "What's in that place?"

He hesitated for a moment, then said, "It's a wild bird's nest with a few bird eggs inside."

I could tell he was lying, so I angrily asked, "What is it?"

He sighed and said, "Ah, you're too shrewd. Why ask? It's a man's skeleton and a rusty pistol. It's probably a desperate criminal who fled here. He deserved what he got."

I felt uneasy listening to him and took a small fruit from his hand.

These small fruits are about the size of goji berries, and are dark red in color. I guess they are past their peak ripeness.

I gently peeled back the skin, and a stream of bright red juice flowed out, like deep red wine or vibrant blood, gathering in my palm like a teardrop. That cool sensation spread throughout my body.

I suddenly felt like crying, as if I was being dominated by a huge grief, but I didn't know where the grief came from.

As the sun sets in the west, the long shadows of the western trees fall onto the lawn, the other half bathed in a hazy yellow light under the sunset. This is a scene often seen in photographs, so beautiful that it makes one forget all worldly concerns.

Jiang Ping gazed at the vast lawn and sighed deeply. He turned around and saw my tear-streaked face. As if understanding my state of mind, he said softly, "Let's go."

We quickly returned the way we came, and Brother Wang stood on the stone bridge in the distance, watching us.

"I'm so glad you're all alright! I was really scared when I saw so many birds flying up from the mountain!"

Jiang Ping said, "We're just here to scout things out today. We'll come back tomorrow. Is it far from here to the town? Are there any hotels in town?"

Brother Wang said, "Yes, we do, but our place is remote, and it's rare for city people like you to come here. The hygiene isn't very good, cough cough, I won't go into details. If you don't mind, you can stay at our house. You can just sleep on the floor."

We quickly understood the implied meaning. Jiang Ping asked for my opinion and said, "Then I'll have to trouble you. But I have to get to town early tomorrow morning. I have a companion coming over."

Brother Wang said happily, "Okay, I'll go with you tomorrow morning! Did you see anything on the mountain?"

Jiang Ping said, "There's nothing there, just some grass and birds and animals. I think you must have seen this kind of scene everywhere when you were a child."

Brother Wang wholeheartedly agreed: "Yes, yes, nowadays people, especially some hunters from outside, are practically killing birds and rabbits. Look at this huge mountain, where are there any birds? When we were kids, we could just find a mountain and bring back a whole bag of bird eggs. Now, bird eggs are incredibly rare."

As we walked along the Jinsha River, the afterglow of the setting sun shone on the river, creating countless golden glitters. Looking towards the red sunset, we saw a golden road stretching from us all the way to the distant confluence of the river and the setting sun.

It was past five o'clock when we got back to the village. Smoke was rising from chimneys everywhere, and people were slowly returning to the village from all sides, carrying baskets on their backs.

As soon as we entered the village, children shouted, "They're back!"

Ayan's wife, Sister Li, and a group of people came running over, panting. Ayan's wife rushed up and knelt down, kowtowing repeatedly. I quickly helped Jiang Ping up; she was crying with snot and tears all over her face, clearly having suppressed her emotions for too long, but she also seemed very happy.

Sister Li said happily, "I never expected I could actually bring back two such capable people! Ayan was able to sit up right after waking up, and he even knew he was hungry, having already drunk a whole bowl of soup!"

After dinner, people gradually gathered at Sister Li's house and chatted for a while. Some people said they felt unwell in certain areas and hoped Jiang Ping could take a look.

Jiang Ping was both amused and exasperated, and could only say, "I'm not a doctor. Ayan is sick because he's being haunted by a ghost. Maybe I can exorcise the ghost. I've checked you all, and there's no ghost haunting you. You'd better go see a doctor and not delay your treatment."

Around 8 o'clock, everyone dispersed again; people in the mountains go to bed early.

Jiang Ping and Brother Wang slept on the floor in another room, while Sister Li and I slept in their bedroom. She fell asleep shortly after lying down.

The moonlight is bright tonight, and the window frames are clearly visible on the ground. There is a gentle breeze, which occasionally carries the scent of grass from the distant hills.

I'm not picky about beds, but it's just too quiet here; the excessive quiet makes it hard to fall asleep. I threw my MP3 player into the river the day before yesterday, so I can't use music to help me fall asleep now.

Thoughts overflowed like a river bursting its banks, flowing aimlessly and directionlessly across an endless plain. Silence is also a kind of torment, but I am grateful for this experience, for this night, which gave me the opportunity to quietly reflect on things. Since graduation, I have been busy and preoccupied, and the arrogance and self-importance I had in college have long been cast to the winds. I no longer have the time to explore the so-called meaning of life, nor will I argue with people until my face turns red over a vague, purely stream-of-consciousness question.

I was like a glistening dewdrop, once atop a leaf on a riverbank, gently swaying in the morning breeze. The rising sun shone brightly within me, and insects flitted about, singing sweet songs. Everything was as beautiful as a dream. But it all ended quickly. I slipped from the leaf with a plop and disappeared into the rushing river, flowing ceaselessly forward, day and night, unable to stop and rest, too busy to admire the scenery around me, ceaselessly toiling. I wanted to break free, but countless water droplets surrounded and squeezed me, while I, in turn, surrounded and squeezed other droplets. What, then, is the meaning of life?

What kind of life does the patriarch seek? Even if all his people could be resurrected, could they return to the way things were before? Eighty-four years of lonely memories will surely accompany him for the rest of his life!

I suddenly remembered a verse from the Diamond Sutra:

All conditioned phenomena are like illusions and bubbles.

Like dew and like lightning, it should be described thus.

The air carried a faint, growing stronger scent of wood ash. I quietly ran to the window. Outside, dark mountains stretched out one after another, and a bright moon hung high in the night sky. Jiang Ping, I don't know what, also got up and stood by the window, moonlight illuminating his thin face. He turned his head and said softly, "You can't see it. The chieftain is setting fire to the mountains to clear the weeds. Sleep well, goodnight!" He went back to his makeshift bed and lay down.

I tossed and turned in bed, and suddenly it dawned on me that Mr. Bian's letter this morning was a suicide note! I opened my phone and wrote a few text messages to my parents as my last words, recalling all the things that had happened since I was a child. Tears welled up and soaked my pillow. How could that once spirited and sharp-tongued girl have become so sentimental!

As I wrote, I finally fell asleep.

Ghost Festival

They got up very early the next morning, and I quickly washed up as well.

Before dawn, the smell of tobacco ash in the air had already disappeared. I believed that the chieftain had set fire to the dry grass, and then a heavy rain would come to extinguish the fire.

Those who witness the raging fire will surely feel even greater awe for this sacred mountain.

By the time they reached the town, it was already daylight. Jiang Ping made a phone call and told them to take the first bus.

“They spoke to the driver yesterday, but he didn’t finish his story: his comrade-in-arms died in another exercise shortly after that military exercise, taking with him the most precious friendship of his life. He never wants to go back to this place again; it holds too many sad memories.”

We were eating at a small restaurant when the street became increasingly crowded.