Yan Hongsha’s eagerly anticipated delicious instant noodles with fried egg came to nothing.

Mu Dai said, “There’s a cloth doll floating in the water, it’s creepy. This water is only good for washing feet now.”

Yan Hongsha was curious: “What doll? Mu Dai, bring it here for me to see.”

Mu Dai gave two dry laughs, pausing between each, and said, “Get lost.”

That thing, she wasn’t going to touch it.

Yan Hongsha was timid, but her curiosity was unbearable. Finally unable to resist, she grabbed a torch, put a plastic bag over her hand, and ran to the well screaming “Aaaah!” all the way. She pulled it out and ran back, still screaming.

Mu Dai anxiously stomped her feet upstairs: “That ghostly thing! Don’t bring it back!”

Yan Hongsha continued screaming while finding time to retort: “Do you expect me to look at it by the well?”

She ran all the way downstairs before throwing the doll down and examining it closely by torchlight. She exclaimed, “Oh!” and said, “This cloth doll is a Sweeping Fine Weather Lady, similar to what Luo Ren mentioned.”

Mu Dai leaned down from upstairs to look in the torchlight.

It did look similar—right hand holding a broom made of real bamboo strips tied together and sewn into the hand, left arm carrying a basket, and a small bundle too.

However, this was a crude, simplified version.

Yan Hongsha reached out to feel it and said, “There’s some rice stuffed in this little sewn basket.”

Mu Dai said, “Are you coming back up or not?”

When Mu Dai lost her temper, she was like a fierce older sister. Yan Hongsha could only reluctantly climb back up.

After climbing up, she looked back to see the Sweeping Fine Weather Lady doll lying on the ground, with two saw-toothed eyes of uneven length.

There was rice sewn into the basket, and if there were eyeballs sewn into those eyes…

Yan Hongsha frightened herself with this thought and, with a yelp, darted into the kitchen.

Mu Dai said, “Now you’re scared? I told you not to bring it back earlier!”

In the middle of the night, a heavy rainstorm began with lightning and thunder. The mountain echoes were strong, making the entire house seem to vibrate with a humming sound.

Though the house was made of stone, the ceiling was wood and thatch, and it surprisingly leaked in several places. At first, it was a rushing sound like small streams, and after the rain stopped, the house dripped slowly: drip, drop, drip, drop.

Mu Dai was in a drowsy half-sleep, thinking: Here I am, listening to spring rain in a small tower through the night.

She dreamed of Luo Ren again.

She dreamed she was sitting by a loom weaving cloth in tattered clothes. Outside, it was pouring rain, and inside, there were several small leaks.

Luo Ren stood beside her with a whip, saying harshly, “Hurry up, I’ll trade the cloth for wine when you’re done.”

In the dream, she was miserable, wiping tears while weaving, saying to Luo Ren, “All you care about is drinking…”

Mu Dai woke herself up laughing. She pulled her coat tighter and thought: That rascal Luo Ren.

The next day, when Mu Dai woke up and opened her eyes, she gave a cheer.

The sun had come out. It wasn’t a bright sunny day, but at least there was sunlight.

Mu Dai frugally used bottled mineral water from her bag to brush her teeth and wash her face. When she returned to the room, Old Man Yan and Yan Hongsha were already up. Old Man Yan glanced at Mu Dai and said, “Mu Dai, please step out for a moment. I have some things to tell Hongsha.”

Yan Hongsha blushed, looking troubled. She thought her grandfather was being petty—after spending so many days together, he was still guarding against Mu Dai.

She decided that whatever her grandfather told her, she would tell Mu Dai afterward.

Mu Dai was somewhat accustomed to Old Man Yan’s attitude. She responded with an “Oh” and took some water and dry bread outside.

Since they wanted her to leave, she would go far away.

She walked around the village chewing bread, looking around. Those thatched huts were indeed all abandoned. Peering inside, the water accumulated in the depressions was enough to raise fish.

Bored, she walked to the well again.

Ancient people used water as mirrors—did anyone use well water as a mirror? Mischievously, she leaned forward to look.

On the bright surface of the well water floated a Sweeping Fine Weather Lady cloth doll.

Mu Dai’s blood rushed to her head. After freezing for a second or two, she quickly ran back to the small tower and looked down.

Last night, she clearly remembered, Yan Hongsha had thrown the Sweeping Fine Weather Lady downstairs.

It wasn’t there. The mud ground was empty except for scattered stones and grass sprouts emerging from cracks between rocks.

She turned around and looked back at the old crank well.

What had happened last night? Had someone picked up the Sweeping Fine Weather Lady and thrown it back into the well, or…

Or during the windy, rainy night, had the Sweeping Fine Weather Lady suddenly sat up from the ground and tottered back to the well?

The clouds dispersed, and the sunshine gradually strengthened.

But layer upon layer of coldness settled over Mu Dai.

According to Old Man Yan, today they would cross the mountain, but return by the same route in the evening, so most of their luggage could be left in the house—they only needed to bring essentials.

Essential items included: a long rope for descending into wells, a shovel, bamboo hats, sabers for protection, torches, walking sticks, and some dry rations.

Mu Dai packed a backpack. Yan Hongsha dragged the shovel with a gloomy expression, but Mu Dai was so preoccupied with her worries that she didn’t pay much attention to her.

Once they entered the mountains, their mood became even more dejected.

Last night’s heavy rain had changed everything. Many broken branches, mud, and sand had washed down from higher ground, along with split trees, not only making travel more difficult, but also predictably covering most of the marks she had left yesterday, creating great difficulties for Luo Ren and his group to follow their trail.

Mu Dai cursed herself for being lazy: Why didn’t she properly scrape tree bark and carve messages?

She forged ahead as if in anger. Yan Hongsha supported Old Man Yan, not saying a word the whole way, completely unlike her constant complaints of yesterday.

During a break to rest and eat, Mu Dai took the initiative to speak with Old Man Yan, asking, “Grandfather, you’re very familiar with this area?”

Old Man Yan nodded: “I’ve been here before.”

“Do all the households here have Sweeping Fine Weather Ladies?”

Old Man Yan looked puzzled: “What’s a Sweeping Fine Weather Lady?”

Mu Dai gestured as she described the appearance of the Sweeping Fine Weather Lady. After just a few sentences, Old Man Yan understood: “Oh, that.”

He was in good spirits and told Mu Dai that the local indigenous people didn’t understand Sweeping Fine Weather Ladies—they were brought in by Han people. Yes, there were Han people deep in these mountains, and they had been there for a very long time. Supposedly, they could be traced back to the late Ming and early Qing dynasties—apparently, they were high officials, perhaps even related to the imperial family, who had fled to these deep mountains to escape the Qing army.

But many couldn’t adjust to living here and gradually left. Eventually, only about ten households remained in these deep mountains, forming their village not far from where they had stayed last night, just one or two mountains away.

Perhaps because there was too much rain in these mountains, these Han households all had Sweeping Fine Weather Ladies, sometimes made of paper cutouts, sometimes sewn from cloth, hung under the eaves, and regularly used.

Mu Dai asked, “What about throwing the Sweeping Fine Weather Lady into water?”

Old Man Yan said, “That’s taboo. Too much rain is certainly not good, but if you sweep away all the water for drinking and eating, how can you live? When children in the village don’t know better and accidentally drop the Sweeping Fine Weather Lady into the water tank, they get scolded.”

That made sense. Everything should be moderate—too much water and no water were equally troublesome.

Mu Dai turned to look at Yan Hongsha. It was strange—last night she had been so excited to see the Sweeping Fine Weather Lady, but today, as she and Old Man Yan discussed this topic, she seemed completely uninterested, sitting alone and staring blankly downward.

What was wrong? Could it be related to what Old Man Yan had told her this morning?

Mu Dai wanted to ask, but seeing Old Man Yan sitting right there, she had to restrain herself.

After finishing their dry rations, they continued their arduous journey. After walking for about another hour or two, Old Man Yan suddenly stopped, his voice somewhat excited: “We’re here.”

Finally arrived? Mu Dai let out a long sigh but then became puzzled.

This was the most ordinary mountain forest land—fallen leaves, broken branches, upturned mud, and fallen trees everywhere. Such scenes had been common throughout their journey, with everywhere looking similar and nothing distinctive to identify specific locations.

How could Old Man Yan be so certain this was the place?

Oh, right—treasure aura.

Old Man Yan didn’t rely on cardinal directions or landmarks, only on treasure aura.

Mu Dai looked around curiously. What exactly was Treasure Aura? Did it have color, shape, or smell? People always said Old Man Yan was half-blind, but despite her excellent vision, with eyes as wide as copper bells, she couldn’t even see the air.

Old Man Yan walked a few steps forward and stamped his right foot: “Right here.”

Here? But this wasn’t a well. Shouldn’t a treasure well have a natural opening, like a water well going straight down?

Yan Hongsha dragged the shovel over.

Old Man Yan said, “Here, dig.”

He added, “Mu Dai, go stand on higher ground and watch for any movement around us. We might have to work through the night.”

Mu Dai said, “Oh.”

She roughly understood and felt some resentment toward Old Man Yan: If he knew they would need to dig, wouldn’t it have been better to hire two stronger men as helpers? Poor Yan Hongsha, having to dig with a shovel—how long would this take?

Instead, her job as lookout was much easier.

Mu Dai nimbly climbed a tree and sat on a thick branch. She took out her small handheld telescope and looked in all directions.

All she could see were trees.

Big trees, small trees, crooked trees, trees with dense leaves, trees with sparse leaves, reddish-brown trees…

Reddish-brown trees?

Mu Dai’s heart suddenly skipped a beat, and she quickly turned her telescope toward the direction she had just seen.

There, the leaves and branches were swaying gently, seemingly nothing unusual.

Mu Dai’s heart began to pound.

She was certain she had seen a patch of reddish-brown. She hadn’t looked carefully, just glimpsed it, but now thinking about it, it looked like… an animal’s fur?

An animal that climbs trees? A monkey, or perhaps the… wild man that Zha Ma had mentioned before?

Mu Dai didn’t dare take this lightly. She sat cross-legged, centered her qi in her dantian, and following the meditation method she had learned in her training, she half-closed her eyes, eliminated distractions, and focused all her energy on listening.

Her master had said that what you see can deceive you—it’s better to listen carefully.

The sound of wind, the rustling of leaves, the shovel digging into soil, Old Man Yan’s labored breathing…

A clang.

Mu Dai opened her eyes to see Yan Hongsha angrily throwing down the shovel, crying out, “I can’t do it!”

Old Man Yan harshly shouted, “Pick it up!”

Yan Hongsha stood frozen, looking like she was about to cry. Old Man Yan’s face turned ashen. Mu Dai felt somewhat helpless and quickly climbed down.

Caught between grandfather and granddaughter, she felt torn. Mu Dai picked up the shovel from the ground and said, “Hongsha, are you tired? I’ll dig for a while, and you can go up the tree to keep watch.”

Yan Hongsha said, “Mu Dai, don’t—there’s a dead person down there!”

A dead person down there.

That morning, when Old Man Yan had sent Mu Dai away, this is what he had said:

He said it was a treasure well, and he could tell it was the finest treasure well. The treasure aura was swirling, sometimes like mist. When he first saw it, he decided this was a good business opportunity that couldn’t be shared with others—it had to be kept for his retirement.

But in this world, there were many treasure hunters besides him. Though the place was remote, there was no guarantee that other treasure hunters wouldn’t find it someday.

He needed to hide the place.

How to hide it? An old method among treasure hunters was to use human blood energy to suppress the treasure’s aura. Treasure aura was pure—once suppressed by blood energy, other treasure hunters could no longer see it. Only you could still see it.

In the future, when returning to find this place, what you would rely on was not the treasure aura, but the lingering, endless… blood energy rising from underground and mixing with the treasure aura.