Meng Qianzi frowned as she watched Meng Jinsong open the door and go out. The door wasn’t completely closed, and vague voices could be heard coming in, sounding like Liu Guanguo.
Xin Ci also glanced toward the door and said softly, “This afternoon, you casually mentioned that many roadside shops sell chopped chili, and Liu Guanguo immediately said his homemade sour chopped chili was excellent. He’s been chopping away downstairs all evening. The Baojing golden tea he brought earlier hasn’t even been drunk yet, and now who knows what else he’s bringing—this eagerness to please, he doesn’t know how to be subtle at all.”
Meng Qianzi had suspected the same thing, but Xin Ci’s words were too blunt and harsh, so she felt she should give the man some face: “This is my first visit here. He might not necessarily be trying to please me; perhaps he’s just naturally enthusiastic and simple.”
Xin Ci shrugged: “These days, there are only personas of simplicity, where are there still simple people?”
After a while, Meng Jinsong came back in and closed the door, his expression somewhat grave: “Qianzi, Liu Guanguo just said that there seems to be a Yin Lodge appearing in the mountains opposite.”
Yin Lodge? What was that? Xin Ci looked perplexed.
Meng Qianzi sat up, more puzzled than surprised: “Liu Guanguo’s eyes can spot a Mountain Mirage?”
“He can’t see it himself. He said a friend of his went into the mountain tonight and seemed to have encountered bugs and snakes fleeing from the Yin. Also, he’s very familiar with the mountain peaks in this area and is certain that there are usually eighteen peaks, but now there’s one more.”
A mountain peak can increase? Xin Ci was even more confused.
Meng Qianzi made an “mm” sound, paused, and then gestured toward the floor-to-ceiling window: “Open the window.”
This was exactly what Meng Jinsong had been waiting for. He took a few large strides to the window, yanked the heavy velvet curtains apart with a swish, and pushed open the upper half of the large window—in the field of view, a lightning bolt was dragging down from the top of the sky, its tail splitting into several bright silver, zigzagging streaks, instantly piercing into the pitch-black wilderness, a magnificent sight.
The wind was strong, and despite the rain shield above the eaves, some of the rain was blown in at an angle. Meng Jinsong stepped aside, but Meng Qianzi moved forward, catching some rainwater in her hand and rubbing it on her eyes, then focusing intently on the view.
What exactly was she looking at? Xin Ci also stared outside with wide eyes, seeing only a scene of wind and rain. He wanted to ask but feared disturbing Meng Qianzi’s “official business,” so he held back.
After a while, Meng Qianzi raised her hand and pointed to one of the mountains: “There, the color is wrong, and the edges are blurry.”
When she turned her head, she saw Xin Ci with his neck stretched out like a foraging goose. Meng Qianzi said irritably: “You can’t see it anyway.”
Xin Ci sheepishly followed her back to the couch: “You could have said so earlier, my eyeballs were about to pop out. Hey, Qianzi, what kind of building is this?”
Behind them, Meng Jinsong forcefully closed the window with a bang, making the room seem even quieter than before: “Qianzi, according to the rules, you should go collect the Mirage Pearl.”
Meng Qianzi sighed, looking out the window with a lost expression: “The rain is really heavy, isn’t it?”
Whether the rain is heavy or light, you still have to go. Meng Jinsong pretended not to understand her implication: “I asked Liu Guanguo, the mountain rain doesn’t last long, it usually stops in the second half of the night—from here to the mountain, we still need to walk a distance. Qianzi, once the rain stops, the Mirage Pearl won’t last much longer. If we delay further, we won’t be able to collect it.”
Great, she hadn’t even figured out what the building was, and now there was a pearl. Xin Ci raised his right hand high, like a student asking a question in class: “Can someone explain to me what a Mountain Mirage is?”
Meng Jinsong glanced at him: “Don’t you have the Mountain Canon on your phone? Can’t you look it up yourself?”
Then he turned to Meng Qianzi: “Shall I go get the Mountain Ghost basket?”
Meng Qianzi must have agreed, because Meng Jinsong quickly opened the door and left. Xin Ci was too preoccupied to pay attention to them anymore. His fingers were constantly tapping and sliding on his phone screen, quickly opening one folder after another.
This phone was issued to him after he passed his probationary period. It did indeed come with several apps, but the person who gave him the brief said they weren’t very relevant to him, so he hadn’t looked at them closely and had tucked them away in a rarely used folder.
Thinking about it now, Mountain Canon probably meant something similar to a dictionary.
Found it—the icon was indeed a dictionary. Xin Ci quickly opened it, and the main page was a search box, clean and straightforward.
He entered the three characters for “Mountain Mirage.”
It must be said that this app was quite sophisticated. Besides lengthy textual explanations with citations, it even had animated demonstrations. However, Xin Ci didn’t have the patience to read carefully and skimmed through it.
The Mountain Mirage was similar to a mirage at sea, both being illusory visions, but the Mountain Mirage was much rarer because its appearance required four basic conditions: midnight, heavy rain, deep mountains, and light.
Yes, light was necessary. After all, it was midnight, coupled with wind and rain; without light, you wouldn’t be able to see clearly.
Among the Mountain Ghosts, those with high rankings could see the Mountain Mirage with the naked eye. But there was another issue—the Mountain Mirage came with rain and began to disappear when the rain stopped, quickly within a few minutes or lasting at most half an hour.
That’s why many people knew about sea mirages, but almost no one knew about Mountain Mirages. The entry listed the last time a Mountain Ghost had seen a Mountain Mirage, which was during the Jiaqing period of the Qing Dynasty. At that time, Mountain Eyebrow Qi Bailing was exploring mountains in the western frontier of Yunnan when she spotted a Mountain Mirage from afar. She hurriedly led people toward the mountain, but the rain stopped halfway, and they returned without success.
So what was this Mirage Pearl? Xin Ci quickly exited the entry and was about to input again when Meng Jinsong dragged in a large, hard-shell suitcase, laying it flat in front of the couch, and instructed Xin Ci: “Find Qianzi’s Beast-Subduing Golden Bell.”
Golden Bell?
Xin Ci was a bit excited and didn’t bother to search for Mirage Pearl anymore. He walked around the luohan couch in a few steps, pulled over a small suitcase, and laid it flat next to Meng Jinsong’s.
The suitcase was custom-made. When opened, it was like a jewelry box with multi-layered transparent glass compartments, filled with dazzling, radiant treasures.
Mountain Ghosts had no shortage of expensive minerals, and the rarest and finest quality ones were naturally reserved for the one sitting on the king’s throne. Calling this suitcase priceless was no exaggeration, and this was merely one of the most frequently used cases among Meng Qianzi’s numerous accessories. According to the rules passed down through generations, Meng Qianzi had the right to use them and could even take a few pieces to give as gifts without much consequence. But the vast majority couldn’t be brought at birth or taken at death; after a hundred years, they would still be passed on to the next successor.
There were so many accessories that even if she changed them daily, it would take over a year to wear them all once. Fortunately, Meng Qianzi enjoyed wearing them. In her words, insufficient spirit, inadequate presence, damaged appearance, and dull skin could all be compensated for with accessories.
Xin Ci opened the central compartment, almost holding his breath, and took out the Beast-Subduing Golden Bell that Meng Jinsong had mentioned.
Although called a Golden Bell, its material wasn’t gold but more like brass, with a dull color. The bell pieces hanging down were covered with strange markings. It was said that whether one could sit on the king’s throne depended on whether one could master the Beast-Subduing Golden Bell—with the golden bell tied around the feet, even the most ferocious mountain beasts would bow their heads in submission and dare not approach.
The scene was thrilling to imagine, and Xin Ci had always looked forward to witnessing it firsthand. Unfortunately, since he joined, Meng Qianzi had either gone to Lushan to escape the summer heat or to Huangshan to see the Buddha’s halo, never venturing into deep mountains and ancient forests. This gave him a bit of anticipation for tonight, though on second thought, since Mount Wuling had already been developed into a scenic area, there probably wouldn’t be wolves, tigers, or leopards to be expected.
As he was pondering, from the corner of his eye, he glimpsed Meng Jinsong taking a glass jar from the large suitcase and placing it on the floor.
This suitcase was the largest among all of Meng Qianzi’s luggage, also called the “Mountain Ghost Basket.” It had never been opened before. Xin Ci only knew it contained various equipment needed by the Mountain Ghosts when entering the mountains. In ancient times, people carried baskets on their backs into the mountains, so even though baskets were no longer fashionable, the name had persisted.
Xin Ci moved closer to look and was suddenly startled.
The glass jar contained a spider. Its appendages and torso together were as large as a child’s palm, yellow-brown in color, covered with stinging hairs, looking somewhat disgusting. Strangely, one of its legs was dragging a small iron ring with a chain. As it crawled inside, the iron ring knocked against the glass, making an uncomfortable, light sound.
What was this for?
Xin Ci wanted to ask, but feared that constantly asking questions might annoy the others. As he hesitated, Meng Jinsong picked up a rod as thick as a thumb and stood up, casually flicking it to extend it two or three sections, resembling a telescopic fishing rod.
The tip of the rod happened to point toward Meng Qianzi, who had just changed into her Mountain Ghost attire in the bathroom. This outfit was a simplified version of Mountain Ghost attire, resembling a tight all-black yoga suit. It was waterproof and not easily reflective, with wear-resistant leather patches added at the shoulders, elbows, knees, and chest-abdomen areas. The waist and shoulders were connected with a utility belt, convenient for hanging, fastening, and removing weapons.
Meng Qianzi pressed her palm against the rod tip, pushing it back, reducing the long fishing rod to less than a meter. Meng Jinsong put away the rod and asked for her opinion: “We won’t bring the miscellaneous personnel, right? I’ll just have Liu Guanguo take us to the mountain entrance… This kind of matter, subordinates don’t need to know.”
Xin Ci quickly clarified: “I’m not miscellaneous personnel! Take me to see the excitement.”
Meng Qianzi made an affirming sound, took the Golden Bell from his hand, and attached it to her belt. The hard-bottomed rain boots were waterproof, with a rubber-sealed zipper connecting the boot tops and pants. She found it troublesome to remove her shoes, so she simply hung the Golden Bell on her belt.
Meng Jinsong hesitated: “Then… do we need to inform the aunties at Mountain Osmanthus Studio? After all, it’s not a small matter.”
Those individuals were the true core of power among the Mountain Ghosts and the elders who had cultivated and raised Meng Qianzi.
Meng Qianzi didn’t even look up: “Tell them what? What if I fail? It would be bad enough to give them false joy, but they would also question my ability. Listen carefully, you two. If this succeeds, boast about it however you want. If it doesn’t succeed…”
She paused for a few seconds, then smiled brightly: “Tonight’s event never happened.”
Midnight, deep mountains, and intermittent rain—this experience was truly a first in life.
Xin Ci wiped the rain from his face and glanced sideways at Meng Jinsong beside him. Like himself, Meng Jinsong wore a large hooded raincoat, but unlike him, Meng Jinsong’s waist bulged strangely with a gun.
The bell subdued hundreds of beasts, but Mountain Ghosts carried guns not for animals but to protect against people. With both the Mountain Ghost boss and such hardcore weapons nearby, Xin Ci felt extremely secure.
Meng Qianzi led the way, walking for a while and then stopping, using her eyes to navigate. When she was orienting herself, the flashlights had to be turned off to avoid affecting her judgment. The first half of the journey was along the scenic path, which wasn’t too difficult. Xin Ci even managed to steal some time to look up what a “Mirage Pearl” was in the Mountain Canon.
Regarding the Mirage Pearl, one must first mention the mirage at sea. Modern people know it’s an optical illusion, an atmospheric refraction phenomenon. But ancient people explained it as “the work of the jiao-dragon’s mirage breath,” believing that sea mirages were strange scenes formed after jiao-dragons swallowed clouds and spat mist.
Mountain Ghosts adopted the ancient extrapolation, believing that the Mountain Mirage was formed by the Mirage Pearl, which was “dragon’s saliva.”
With the Mirage Pearl, mountains could form Mountain Mirages. This pearl normally seeped into the ground, and during midnight heavy rains, very occasionally, it would rise into the air with water vapor, causing the mirage scene. But ordinary people couldn’t see the Mirage Pearl because it was just a small packet of water. After the rain stopped, it would seep back into the ground, and the Mountain Mirage would disappear accordingly…
This was nonsense. Even fiction writers wouldn’t dare to make up such things. Xin Ci couldn’t read any further.
The second half of the journey entered undeveloped areas, where every step sank into mud, and they stumbled with each step. Sometimes they had to use both hands and feet. Xin Ci complained incessantly but still had to quicken his pace—the rain seemed to be getting lighter. If it turned out like Qi Bailing’s experience, all this midnight rain-braving mountain-trekking hardship would be for nothing.
After walking for who knows how long, Meng Qianzi suddenly stopped and said softly: “We’re here.”
Here? Already here?
Xin Ci swallowed, his scalp tingling instantly. He roughly scanned the area with his flashlight, and the first emotion that welled up in his heart was disappointment: he had expected the Yin Lodge to be somehow ghostly and eerie, but this was just ordinary mountains and trees, wasn’t it?
Meng Jinsong, however, was a bit nervous. He asked Xin Ci to hold the rod for him, through which he threaded a fishing line. Then he opened the glass jar, poured out the spider, and carefully tied the iron ring on the spider’s leg to the end of the fishing line.
This was truly like a fishing rod with bait. Xin Ci blurted out, “What, does the Mirage Pearl eat spiders?”