Chapter Four: Clues of the Celestial Dragon (2)

The car sped toward the residential area nestled at the foot of the mountain, and the closer they got, the more uneasy Gu Zhiheng felt. Everything seemed strangely ominous, as if an open-mouthed sack was waiting for him to walk in, only for the opening to tighten, trapping him inside. Yet, seeing Chu Xingran's calm demeanor, he wondered if he was simply overthinking things, perhaps just unaccustomed to the ways of the mortal world.

Anxiety churned within him, but he kept reassuring himself. The sly man hadn’t lied; after half an hour, they arrived at his home. Perhaps the engine was too loud, for several women emerged from the house, craning their necks curiously from the doorway. When they saw the sly man bring back two strangers, their faces flickered with secret delight, excitement, and a hint of unease.

There was, after all, an ill reputation attached to Mingshui Town. Outsiders knew the sayings: “If you're unfamiliar with Mingshui Town, don't enter; if you know it, keep your distance.” The reason, as the rumors went, was that entering Mingshui Town was easy—leaving was not. The living went in, but those who came out were either torn to pieces or reduced to skeletons. Some claimed the town harbored unclean things, perhaps even fierce beasts, possibly ones the villagers kept themselves. To protect their home, whenever strangers entered, the villagers would unleash those beasts, quietly disposing of the outsiders.

The rumors were not entirely baseless, for there was rarely smoke without fire. First, Mingshui Town never intermarried with outsiders—marriages were strictly within the town. Second, for centuries, the townfolk had but one livelihood: raising Sky Dragons, known elsewhere as centipedes. Third, in all those hundreds of years, not one outsider had left alive; if bodies were found, they were either mutilated or only bones remained.

Because of this, Mingshui Town was shunned and feared, even the mention of it sending chills down the spine. Chu Xingran understood this, but had never mentioned it to Gu Zhiheng. Given his particular constitution—one that attracted beings like herself—she withheld the truth for his own good.

Though Gu Zhiheng was resilient, the ghosts outside were nothing like the kindly old men who cherished him in his ancestral hall. Even Chu Xingran had once approached him with ulterior motives, though those aims had since changed.

A hoarse voice, betraying neither joy nor anger, called from deep within the house, “Since you’re here, why not sit and have some tea before we get to business?” At this, those blocking the doorway immediately stepped aside. The speaker was the sly man’s grandmother, the oldest living person in Mingshui Town.

At her appearance, the sly man instantly straightened up, all traces of his former shifty demeanor gone. He threw himself into her arms, feigning grievance, “Grandmother, your grandson was bullied today—you have to stand up for me!” As he spoke, he shot a meaningful glance at Gu Zhiheng and Chu Xingran, his petty pride on full display.

But Chu Xingran had seen much in her time, and Gu Zhiheng had been raised by venerable elders—neither was intimidated by forceful authority. They remained composed, scanning the room with frank and appraising gazes.

The old woman was not surprised by their lack of fear, especially since the aura around Chu Xingran rivaled her own. But Gu Zhiheng was more inscrutable. Outwardly, he seemed an ordinary man, harmless enough, but there was a subtle, invisible pressure radiating from him. That was why, when they arrived at the door, the women dared not step outside to greet them—the force he exuded was greater than that of the old woman or even the extraordinary young woman. He appeared the weakest of the three, but in truth, that was far from certain.

Sensing something amiss, the old woman had come out personally, treating the two with courtesy. “Elder, we have come seeking information about the centennial Sky Dragon. We mean no harm and hope you will be candid with us,” Gu Zhiheng said, polite but his eyes calculating.

Of course, only Gu Zhiheng kept this civility; Chu Xingran would have started a fight already if he hadn’t been restraining her by the arm. The old woman, seeing the intent in his eyes, remained gracious, inviting them inside for tea. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but guests are guests—please, come in and have some tea,” she said with practiced hospitality.

Her words left Chu Xingran momentarily speechless. “We don’t have any centennial Sky Dragons, but if you want one a few years old, my useless grandson can fetch you some later,” she added, making it clear that any news of the centennial Sky Dragon was not for sharing.

Her sharp eyes saw what others missed; she understood well that Gu Zhiheng, not Chu Xingran, was the key figure. Judging by his manner, she could guess their purpose. Yet, for reasons of her own, she kept her tone warm and inviting.

With gentle authority, she said, “You all go rest. Grandson, make some tea. Let our guests sit and talk.” The women left, and the sly man obediently went to the kitchen. Soon, only the three of them remained at the stone table in the courtyard.

A heavy silence fell, none willing to break it nor able to suppress their curiosity. At length, the man returned with a pot of freshly brewed Longjing tea, the fragrance wafting slowly from the spout. Now, the sly man seemed entirely changed, his earlier demeanor vanished as if it had all been an illusion. He set down the tea and quietly left.

The old woman cleared her throat and, after a long pause, finally spoke. “I know why you’ve come, but I’m afraid I cannot help you. Drink your tea, and then I suggest you return.”

A childish voice, soft and sweet, echoed from the hall, “Gui Zhi, you’re lying again. Lying isn’t right, you know!” Entering the room was the little rascal they had met once before.

Gui Zhi? Wasn’t that the Sky Dragon recorded in the annals from five hundred years ago? But how could it be in human form?