Chapter 437
I frowned, "I’m good at solving crimes but I don’t have my tools with me!"
"No tools are allowed this time. It’s a condition for the test,” smiled Song Heting.
I looked out of the window and asked, "Isn’t there a public security bureau here?"
"No, the Song family patriarch decides on how to deal with criminals. You only need to find out who it is," Song Heting replied.
I didn’t expect the customs here to be so simple, much like China before liberation. "What am I supposed to investigate?" I asked.
"Let’s not talk about this right now. Eat!" Song Heting waved her hand.
After dinner, Song Heting took me to the Song family’s ancestral temple so I could worship our ancestors. I noticed my grandfather’s name among the tablets so I lit three joss sticks and paid my respects.
I suggested we start the test immediately, but Song Heting refused, "No, you’re tired after such a long trip. Rest for tonight!"
She was both gentle and firm, leaving me no choice but to agree.
The people in the village lived according to the rise and set of the sun. It was extremely dark at night, with no TVs or computers in the old house. The room where I stayed had the bare essentials with a pile of ancient books on the shelf meant for leisure reading.
However, I grew up in this environment so I found nothing wrong with it.
Laying in bed, I glanced at the weak signal on my cell phone and sent Xiaotao a message, informing her of our safe arrival and my relatives’ enthusiasm.
Right then, someone knocked on the door–it was Song Heting. "Xiao Song Yang, I’ve boiled some hot water so you can take a bath!"
When I thanked her, Song Heting smiled, "You’re welcome. Just think of this as your own home."
She led me to the bathroom where a big wooden tub full of steaming medicinal bathwater awaited me. "This is a medicinal concoction secretly passed down from the martial Songs which can heal pain and relieve fatigue,” she explained. “Try it. It’s very comfortable."
Seeing Song Heting’s intention to stay, I blushed, "Aunt Song, I can bathe on my own."
"Oh, you shy thing!” she laughed. “There’s hot water there which you can use when the bathwater cools. Call me if you need anything."
When she left, I removed my clothes and soaked myself in the medicinal bath. Although the water was warm, it had a mint-like coolness that seemed to drill into my pores, refreshing my entire body and washing away the fatigue.
After my bath, I wrapped myself in a towel and headed back to my room. The floors of the old manor creaked as I walked. Suddenly, the light above me flashed and went out. Was the electricity in the mountains unstable?
At this moment, light footsteps came up behind me. I turned around and was greeted by a man in flowy robes and wide sleeves turning the corner. He was dressed like a man from ancient times!
Filled with surprise, I wondered, Is this an apparition of my ancestors?!
As for fear, I had none. This wasn’t my first rodeo with ghosts after all.
Ignoring the apparition, I continued walking to my room. Suddenly, a gloomy voice crept up from behind me, "Song Yang, why aren’t you kneeling before me!"
A cold breeze licked my skin from the back. "Who are you?" I asked.
"What insolence! I am Song Ci!"
In the dark, I noticed a man wearing a Song Dynasty official uniform. But with Cave Vision, the ‘man’s’ fair face and big, misty eyes were clearly visible to me.
The lights were suddenly turned back on and Song Heting strode over, holding a feather duster in her hand used to spank Song Ci’s imposter. "What the hell are you doing running about in the middle of the night scaring others!" chided Song Heting.
Dressed as Song Ci, Song Jie smiled and begged for forgiveness, "Mom, don’t hit me! I was just fooling around!"
"Do you think this is funny?"
Song Jie spat her tongue, "Didn’t you say Song Yang-gege had the Eyes of Yama? I wanted to scare him to see what the Eyes of Yama look like."
"What nonsense! Go back to your room!" Song Heting rebuked.
They knew about the Eyes of Yama which suggested how concerned the Song family was about me.
After that little episode, I went back to my room and slept peacefully throughout the night. The next morning, Song Xingchen came looking for me, "Did you sleep well last night?"
"Yes,” I nodded. “Yesterday, Aunt Song prepared a medicinal bath for me. Soaking in it was quite nice. You martial Songs seem to really take care of yourselves..."
"What medicinal bath?" queried Song Xingchen. I caught a trace of nervousness in his expression.
Upon listening to my brief description, Song Xingchen remained silent.
Perhaps due to oversleeping, I felt a little weak all over and wanted to sleep some more. However, this being someone else’s home, I couldn’t be so capricious. Breakfast consisted of porridge, pickles and scallions. At the end of our meal, Song Heting instructed, "Xiao Jie, take Song Yang to the village!"
"Is this about the test..." I ventured.
"Xiao Jie will take you there," answered Song Heting.
Thus, Song Xingchen, Song Jie and I set out together. Throughout our entire journey, Song Jie chattered and asked about interesting things in the city and if I had a girlfriend.
"Don’t you have to go to school?" I asked in return.
Song Jie chuckled, "I’m in my third year of university! I don’t have any classes right now so I’m back for a short holiday!"
In fact, Song Jie looked eighteen at most, but she was already in her third year. It turned out she had skipped grades from childhood, went to elementary school for four years, then middle school for four years, and university at the age of fifteen which was an admirable feat indeed.
When we passed by a field, Song Jie picked up a stone from the ground and turned to Song Xingchen, "Let’s play the game!"
"I don’t want to. You’ll just lose like always," replied Song Xingchen.
Song Jie pouted, "How dare you belittle me! I’m much better than before!"
"Is that so?" Song Xingchen retorted.
Just when I thought they were going to play a game, Song Xingchen raised his hand and threw a stone into the sky with Song Jie following in the same direction. With a smack, the stone thrown by Song Xingchen was smashed to smithereens. The both of them stood in place, resembling two martial arts masters in the proper stance of throwing knives.
Then, Song Jie threw another stone into the sky and Song Xingchen quickly followed, his stone crashing into hers.
The two went at each other for ten rounds, and finally, Song Xingchen was declared the victor. I was amazed by the martial Songs. Song Xingchen once used a straw against a weapon which I assumed was his unique skill, but it turned out to be a basic requirement of the martial Songs.
"You lost again!" scoffed Song Xingchen.
Song Jie stood with arms akimbo, "It’s only because that last stone was a little slippery. Let’s have another round!"
"I’m done messing around. Train for a few more years and maybe we’ll have another go!" Song Xingchen turned away.
"No, you’re never home and no one else will play with me," complained Song Jie.
"Who’s there?" The voice of an old woman interrupted their little argument.
An old woman with a hunchback walked up with her crutch. Song Jie respectfully greeted, "Hello, Granny!" Song Xingchen nodded slightly in her direction.
Blind in one eye, the old lady sized me up with her other eye. "And this is..."
Song Jie quickly introduced us to each other. It turned out that the old lady was the village shaman, surnamed Yan — she married into the village decades ago. Song Jie explained that there was a mysterious tradition in the village. Since ancient times, there would be a shaman in every generation. When the shaman from the previous generation died, a widow would soon develop a high fever and fall into a coma. And upon regaining consciousness, the widow would claim to be the reincarnation of the shaman! Since she could communicate with the dead, the shaman would be invited to preside over all funerals.
All shamans had a token of inheritance, an iron walnut the size of a baby’s fist. The selected shaman could swallow the walnut into their stomach without any harm, and the iron walnut would stay in their stomach until death. When the corpse was cremated, the walnut would be picked out from the ashes and be passed on to the next shaman.
If this shaman was a phoney and tried to swallow the walnut, she would either suffer from rectal bleeding or die from asphyxiation when the walnut got stuck in her trachea! As long as they were the chosen shaman, they would be able to pass this incredible test. Hence, the shaman was respected by the villagers and was the most influential person in the village.
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