"Red-Haired, Blood-Faced One?"
At these words, Sha Lifei burst into laughter. "Isn't that just a tale to scare children?"
Even Li Yan, upon hearing it, furrowed his brows slightly.
In every corner of the Divine Land, rural areas were rife with strange tales—shadows lurking behind you at night, hands reaching from outhouses, faces peering through windows, or the fearsome Tiger Granny…
The Red-Haired, Blood-Faced One was one such legend.
It was said to wear a large green robe, with red hair and a face smeared in blood. It appeared at dusk or early evening, and if children lingered outside playing, it would spirit them away.
This creature was often sighted near old trees. Elders swore that children from a nearby village, playing in the mountains, had encountered the Red-Haired, Blood-Faced One.
The other children fled in terror, glancing back to see, under the twilight tree, a chilling figure in a green robe with a blood-red face staring coldly at them. Those who returned fell gravely ill, some even losing their souls to fright.
Some elders claimed one child never returned and was lost. Later, a master from Chang'an was summoned to perform a ritual. Three feet beneath the tree, they found the child's bones.
Alongside the bones was a coffin, but the master forbade opening it. It was burned to ashes under the blazing sun.
In short, the tale was told with vivid detail.
After learning of the existence of the Mysterious Gate, Li Yan believed in zombies and malevolent spirits, but he couldn't shake the feeling that this was a story concocted by elders to scare children into coming home for dinner.
Hearing it now, he found it somewhat absurd.
Yet, Wang Daoxuan's expression grew grave. "When did this happen?"
The shop assistant hurriedly replied, "In recent years. Some masters were hired to investigate the mountain, but they found nothing. Oh, and people gathering herbs in the forest often encountered it too. After that, no one dared go up the mountain…"
Leaving the inn, Wang Daoxuan remained visibly puzzled.
Seeing his demeanor, Sha Lifei felt a chill. "Daoist, could this Red-Haired, Blood-Faced One actually exist?"
Wang Daoxuan shook his head slightly. "Let's discuss it outside. Brother Zhao likely knows more about this than I do."
…
Zhao Donkey, the treasure hunter, hadn't entered the city but waited at the foot of the mountain.
This didn't surprise the group, as he had explained the reason on the way.
The trade of treasure hunting had its unwritten rules:
"Heaven as a blanket, earth as a bed, revere the gods and respect the spirits. Three sticks of incense before entering mountains or waters, a lamp lit before exploring tombs or caves, and never enter a living dwelling."
Zhao Donkey had even explained the origins.
Heaven above, earth below, and man in between form the character for "shaman," signifying that treasure hunters never forget their roots. This was tied to the persecution of the Fangxian Dao sect by the imperial court long ago.
Shamans believed all things had spirits, so they revered gods and respected spirits. Those of the mountain and sea branches burned three sticks of incense before entering mountains or waters. Those of the tomb-exploring branch lit a guiding lamp—not just for light but as an omen. If the tomb's occupant grew angry, they would leave immediately.
The rule against entering living dwellings had two reasons.
First, treasure hunters, often in wilds or ancient tombs, might carry malevolent energies. Entering someone's home could bring calamity, especially if the household enshrined a potent deity, sparking conflict.
Second, it was tied to the Fangxian Dao. Legend held that their treasure-hunting branch served the Qin Emperor, scouring mountains and seas for the elixir of immortality. When the sect was purged, this ancestral rule was born.
"Red-Haired, Blood-Faced One?"
Zhao Donkey scratched his head. "I've heard of it."
"My father once said it was a technique of the old Fangxian Dao. Near imperial tombs, they'd choose a place heavy with yin energy, seal a crucified person in a coffin, and plant a tree above."
"Over time, it created a ghost wall, hiding the tomb from discovery. This was common in the Qin and Han eras but was banned for its cruelty and violation of heavenly harmony. Still, some noble families secretly employed it."
"After ages, the coffin's seal would break, and the crucified soul, fused with the tree, became the Red-Haired, Blood-Faced One, trapped in place."
"Where it appears, a grand tomb is nearby. The tomb-exploring branch used this as a clue to find Qin and Han noble tombs. Since Guanzhong is rich with such tombs, the legend persists."
Sha Lifei's eyes lit up. "A noble tomb in the mountains?"
Zhao Donkey shook his head. "Even if there is one, my mountain branch would never enter a tomb. Besides, when I came here before, I saw no Red-Haired, Blood-Faced One."
"As for why it's appeared recently, I've guessed the reason."
"Some years back, a band of bandits hid in the mountains to evade the court. They likely played tricks to scare villagers away from their hideout. Those bandits are tough—I can't handle them alone, so I need help."
Li Yan frowned. "Bandits? Do they have a name?"
Zhao Donkey thought for a moment. "I overheard them mention their leader, Yan Laojiu."
"The Skin-Flaying Yama?"
Sha Lifei's scalp tingled. "Why didn't you say so earlier? That guy's in the mountains—we're walking into death! If there's treasure, he's probably already dug it up!"
Li Yan shook his head as well.
Guanzhong had no shortage of bandits, and those with a name in the greenwood were never easy to deal with.
This Yan Laojiu was once a butcher in Chang'an, skilled with a blade and well-known on the streets. He married a beautiful woman, and though in a lowly trade, he lived grandly.
Later, his wife was seduced by a noble's son. Yan Laojiu bided his time until one night, when the noble's guards were absent, he caught them both, flayed their skin alive, and hung it in the marketplace.
That alone wouldn't have made him notorious.
But after fleeing Chang'an and turning bandit, whenever he robbed and caught a young couple, he'd flay them for amusement, earning the moniker "Skin-Flaying Yama," his infamy spreading far.
If Yan Laojiu was hiding in the mountains, this would be no easy task.
"They won't find it!"
Zhao Donkey's face flushed as he hurriedly explained. "The lightning-struck jujube tree has gained sentience and only appears at specific times. I alone know its location."
"The bandit hideout is on the eastern old cliff, but the jujube tree is in Leopard Gully to the west. If we cut the tree at night and throw it into the river, we can retrieve it downstream and transport it to Xianyang."
He produced a sheepskin map for the group to see.
Li Yan examined it carefully and nodded. "There's a chance. What other dangers are in Leopard Gully? Tell us now."
Zhao Donkey said, "The lightning-struck jujube tree wards off evil, so common spirits dare not approach. But Leopard Gully has a few fierce leopards I can't handle alone."
Li Yan pondered briefly and said gravely, "Then we'll go up the mountain to investigate!"
"And Uncle Sha, go back to Chunhua County and prepare some meat caltrops."
…
Caltrops, sharp and piercing, are named for their ability to harm. In The Songs of Chu, they're called "vile trees," a metaphor for petty men. Their fruit inspired the江湖 (jiānghú) weapon, the caltrop pellet.
Meat caltrops were a sinister hunting method. Caltrop seeds were wrapped in small meat chunks, soaked in pig's blood to mask the scent. Tigers and leopards, unable to chew, would swallow them whole, and the seeds would tear their insides as they digested.
Making them was simple. Sha Lifei soon returned with a large bag, securely tied, and joined the group to head up the mountain.
Yetaishan wasn't towering but vast, with overlapping peaks and winding paths.
They entered the mountain in the afternoon, and soon the sky darkened. The moon illuminated the black mountains, with distant wolf howls and tiger roars echoing.
Sha Lifei shivered, grumbling, "Why not come during the day? It's pitch-black at night—we can't see a thing."
Zhao Donkey replied dully, "The lightning-struck jujube tree absorbs the mountain's vital energy, forming a small domain. It's invisible by day and only appears at midnight under moonlight."
He stepped forward, pulling aside withered grass and vines beneath a rock wall, revealing a small shrine.
Inside was an ancient stone statue, its features worn, vaguely resembling a figure in Confucian robes.
A battered clay basin served as an incense burner, with traces of past offerings but clearly long neglected.
Li Yan activated his Yang Technique, sensing a faint incense scent, heavy and blended with the mountain's aura, though thin.
Zhao Donkey said dully, "Herb gatherers and hunters used to worship here, but the bandits' tricks stopped the offerings."
He took out incense, candles, fruits, and steamed buns as offerings, performing the ritual with a rhythmic grace, his eyes full of reverence.
Li Yan and Wang Daoxuan joined in burning incense.
Sha Lifei kowtowed several times. "Mountain God, please protect us. If this trip succeeds, I'll report those bandits to the authorities to clear them out for you!"
After the ritual, they continued up the mountain.
Zhao Donkey reiterated the mountain's taboos: no calling beasts by their true names, no entering certain places, and follow his lead.
Li Yan gripped his Guanshan blade, staying close to Zhao Donkey.
Zhao Donkey, the treasure hunter, had awakened a sight ability—not yin-yang eyes but the ability to see auras, viewing the night as clearly as day.
Li Yan's nose ability could detect unusual scents within hundreds of meters.
Together, they complemented each other perfectly.
Soon, they reached a fork in the mountain path.
Zhao Donkey pointed east. "The bandit hideout is that way. Further ahead, they have sentries. We'll avoid them."
Sha Lifei whispered, "Then let's move quickly before we're spotted."
"Wait!"
Li Yan sniffed the air, his face darkening as he looked east.
"A strong stench of corpses!"
Happy Children's Day to all! In this bustling world, we're all children at heart. A day of worry is a day lost; a day of joy is a day gained. So eat, drink, and don't let troubles linger.
*(End of Chapter)*