Chapter 105: Secrets of Cloud Mountain

Cui Yue hurried to the well’s edge and peered down. Strangely, the well plunged into darkness, bottomless and silent. Despite the size of the wild boar that had fallen in, not even a faint sound came from below.

Before Cui Yue could gather his thoughts, Old Huo called out to him.

“Cui Yue, come over here quickly!”

The door of the nearby earthen hut was already rotten and fragile. Cui Yue pushed it open and stepped inside. A flash of white suddenly struck his head. Before he could lift it, another hit landed, and then another.

Rubbing his head in confusion, Cui Yue looked up just in time to see a white figure swaying toward him.

A skeleton?!

Upon closer inspection, it was a skeleton hanging from the beam, grinning at him.

“What on earth is this?” Cui Yue exclaimed, stepping back in shock.

The skeleton’s neck was tied with a hemp rope, the other end secured to the beam, dangling in midair and tilting its head from side to side. Its hollow eye sockets stared straight at Cui Yue.

Old Huo, leaning over Cui Yue’s shoulder, peered inside for a moment.

“Why is there a skeleton still hanging here?” he wondered aloud.

“Why weren’t you inside?” Cui Yue asked.

“Why would I be in there?” Old Huo replied. “You called me, didn’t you?”

“Well, yes,” Cui Yue admitted.

“But I never said I was inside. I just pulled too hard earlier, and my neck got a bit twisted. I asked you to come check it out. You know, when you get older, even a little movement can make your arms and legs feel alien.”

Cui Yue’s face darkened. If he weren’t no match for Old Huo, he would have swung his sword already.

“Judging by the looks of it, this poor soul has been dead for a long time. He must have tied the hemp rope around his neck and hanged himself.”

Old Huo suddenly leaned close to Cui Yue’s ear with a strange smile.

Cui Yue shot him a sharp look but ignored him. His gaze flicked to an old, yellowed notebook on the table.

Old Huo was quicker, swiping the notebook with a flourish of his sleeve. With a sharp slap, dust billowed up.

“Cough, cough, cough!” Cui Yue nearly choked on the dust.

Old Huo flipped through a few pages casually, his expression gradually growing serious. He rapidly turned several more pages.

“What’s going on?” Cui Yue asked, puzzled.

“See for yourself!” Old Huo tossed the notebook to him.

Cui Yue hurriedly opened it. The handwriting was crooked and uneven; it took him a long time to make out the general meaning.

“My name is Pei Yusheng. I should never have come into this world, but since fate has brought me here, my parents named me ‘Yusheng’—hoping I would have a long life.

...

I don’t know how much longer I can hold on. Of the 136 households in the village, fewer than twenty remain. I don’t know if I will survive, if there will be any life left for me...

Today... I am still here. The dinner was brought by Aunt Li from next door, but I have no appetite to eat it, because I remember clearly that the night before last, I buried her myself...

My health has been failing; every time I open my eyes, it’s there! ... The villagers have been increasing, inviting me to drink, but why do they all have bruised and blue faces?

... Today should be the last day. I saw the sunlight. I have no future, nor will there be an afterlife. The world’s karma and retribution are unerring. Beginnings and endings are all in my heart.”

Cui Yue closed the notebook, his face a mixture of astonishment and doubt. The later pages were increasingly chaotic, the writing disordered, the thoughts jumbled—much of it illegible scribbles. Only on the final page was this passage written in neat, small script.

“Last flicker of life?”

Cui Yue’s heart could not calm. This was a pitiful man, why had his entire life been a tragedy?

Trapped here, driven mad by suffocation, he had ended himself with a hemp rope.

“Yusheng”—how ironic.

Lost in thought, Cui Yue felt a wave of sorrow well up. He lifted the skeleton down from the beam, intending to lay it to rest properly in the courtyard once his current tasks were done.

Old Huo watched silently, shaking his head softly and murmuring indistinctly.

“The path of life is too long; severing desires and passions, standing upright with sword in hand to battle evil. Only after seeing through this quest for immortality can one understand that passing on is as trivial as grass, viewing you as an ant. How laughable, how laughable!”

Perhaps the long years wandering the jianghu had dulled Old Huo’s memory, causing him to forget how much this youth resembled himself decades ago.

Suddenly, Cui Yue noticed a rusty bronze key looped through the finger bones of the skeleton.

Intrigued, he examined it closely, puzzled over its purpose.

“What is this?”

Old Huo was also puzzled. “There’s no lock in this hut that would fit such a strange bronze key.”

“Not sure. Maybe it unlocks something important. Let’s check the north end of the village. There might be clues.”

“Alright.”

Cui Yue tucked the key into his chest and arranged the skeleton simply in the courtyard, planning to bury it properly later.

When they reached the north end of the village, Cui Yue understood why Old Huo insisted on coming here.

What was this place?

A mass grave.

The graves at the back were somewhat orderly. Though overgrown with weeds, each had a tombstone. The ones in the middle had only rough wooden stakes as markers—weathered beyond recognition.

The graves at the front were chilling. Some pits hadn’t even been filled, and with wild beasts roaming, scattered bones lay in chaotic heaps on the ground.

“What are we doing here?” Cui Yue frowned.

“This is where all the people of Yunshan Village are buried.”

“What? All the people of Yunshan Village? So the Pei Yusheng we saw earlier was the last survivor?”

“Exactly. Yusheng was the last, his mind nearly shattered. He alone dragged the dead back here for burial.”

“Then why have we come here?”

“Why do you think Yunshan Village was wiped out?”

Old Huo countered.

“That... Yusheng’s diary didn’t say. How am I supposed to know?”

“Because Yunshan Village offended someone they shouldn’t have, or perhaps a ghost. The entire village was slowly consumed alive. Yusheng saw it day after day, life worse than death. In the end, his mind broke, and he ended his own life.”

“Are you saying the village’s destruction was caused by that woman in the green dress ghost?”

“Hmph. If not her, then who else?”

“So you mean that green-dressed ghost controls both Yunshan Village and Shangwan Village?”

“How can I explain it to you? It’s a technique that separates soul and body beyond the mortal realm. Simply put, the ghost’s true form is singular, but depending on its cultivation, it can split its soul into fragments. These aren’t the true body but can be considered residual souls.”

Hearing this, Cui Yue began to piece together some of the puzzle.

“So, the presence in Shangwan Village isn’t the true form but a residual soul. Even if the residual soul is destroyed, the curse remains effective! So Yunshan Village hides its true form?”

“Yes.”