The Three Pure Ones' Secret: Expressing Spirit

As the man disappeared into the white mist, the sharp claws that had been severed and fallen to the ground transformed into the forelimb of an animal.

Bai He squatted on the ground, his face covered in tears, staring at Sally, now in her original form, without saying a word. Old Fan and I didn't know how to comfort him. After a long while, Bai He carried Sally's body into the darkness, whispering to Fan Biao and me as he went, "I've taken care of things here. I'll tell you everything about Sally from beginning to end."

We watched Bai He walk into the darkness, our hearts heavy with sorrow, but we still had our own tasks to complete. Fan Biao untied the iron chains binding Old Qiu: "Go now, go to the underworld. Otherwise, those monsters won't let you go. We can't punish you for the mistakes you made in your life, but the underworld's ghost messengers will investigate."

Old Qiu, his face etched with wrinkles, asked fearfully, "Can I avoid going to the underworld?"

Fan Biao, with a stern face, said seriously, "You can choose not to go and stay in the mortal realm, but those monsters will definitely not let you go. Do you want to be torn apart by them, or go to the underworld to be punished and reincarnated? The choice is yours!"

I reached out to my left and gently blew out the candle there. The dim candlelight went out instantly, leaving only the faint moonlight to illuminate the surroundings.

Fan Biao stepped forward, grabbed the still trembling ghost of Old Qiu, and said in a deep voice, "Stop dawdling, come with us, we'll take you where you're supposed to go."

I followed Lao Fan, and we walked together towards the village. Lao Fan told me that what we needed to find now was the well in the village that could connect to the underworld. This was the only passage for Old Qiu's ghost to reach the underworld. I was a little confused. Why would finding the well lead to the underworld, when I had to rush back from Yubei, which was so far from home, to get back?

Seeing that I was curious about this, Lao Fan told me the reason.

There are many passages to the underworld, including wells, lakes, and great rivers. There are also many exits from the underworld. The underworld and the mortal world are like a funnel, with the underworld at the very bottom. No matter how many paths lead from the mortal world to the underworld, the destination will always be the underworld. However, there are tens of thousands of exits from the underworld, but the most accurate exit from the underworld to the mortal world is the gate of Fengdu City in Yubei District.

After listening to Fan Biao's explanation, I gradually understood that there was another meaning behind his saying that he was looking for a well.

The weather in the Sichuan Basin is notoriously unpredictable. Just as we reached the village entrance path and came to the fork in the road, we saw Bai He's house with its gate tightly shut, and a mix of emotions welled up inside us. The moon, which had been hanging in the night sky, was suddenly completely obscured by thick, dark clouds, and the sky instantly became pitch black. Then, a fine drizzle began to fall, carrying the humid, muggy heat characteristic of the basin. The rain intensified, quickly soaking our clothes and turning the road muddy and slippery, leaving us covered in sticky mud underfoot.

We searched the village in the rain. Old Qiu's ghost was reluctantly dragged along by Fan Biao. Rain soaked through his body, and he looked listless, but dared not utter a word. Fan and I searched everywhere and finally found a well in the bamboo grove, a well used by the villagers for washing clothes. The well platform was covered in moss, and fallen bamboo leaves were scattered all around. Rainwater dripped from the well, creating a deep, echoing sound, and a faint chill permeated the air. This well looked quite old; it was the boundary between the human world and the underworld that Fan had mentioned.

"Jump down. This well leads directly to the underworld. The Yin Contract was given to you a few days ago. Ghost messengers will meet you when you get down." Fan Biao released his grip on Old Qiu's hand and gave the order in a cold voice.

Old Qiu stared at the dark well opening, his face filled with fear, but he knew he had no other choice. He bowed to us tremblingly, turned around and jumped into the well. His figure disappeared instantly at the well opening without making a ripple.

After dealing with Old Qiu's matter, Fan Biao and I were soaked to the bone. We trudged back along the muddy path and went straight back to Qiu's courtyard. Under the courtyard lights, some people were still playing cards and keeping watch. Rain was pounding on the eaves. We found a corner where we could take shelter from the rain, tidied up quickly, and went back to our room to rest. After working for most of the night, Fan Biao and I took off our soaked clothes, went to bed, and fell asleep immediately.

The next morning, although it was mid-July and the height of summer, and the sun rose early, the night outside the window was still thick and dark. Dawn had not yet arrived, and the night still heavily enveloped the entire mountain village.

Our boss, Uncle Wu, woke up with a yawn and patted me and Lao Fan on the shoulder. I woke up with a start, my head still a little groggy. I rubbed the sleep from the corner of my eye and saw that Fan Biao next to me had also opened his eyes instantly. His brows were furrowed, his face was tired and weary, his eyes were bloodshot, and he got up with a slightly drowsy gait.

Grandpa Wu and we started getting ready, waiting for him and Lao Fan to get dressed. He was quite old, with graying temples and a deeply lined face. When he smiled, he looked like a chrysanthemum blooming by the roadside.

The summer morning was very humid. He had a shiny bald head, wore a transparent plastic raincoat over an old yellow Taoist robe, and looked anxious. He urged in a low voice, his tone tinged with helplessness and haste: "Hurry up and pack. The Eight Vajras, make sure you have your things. The Qiu family is all here, and the funeral procession is about to depart."

I raised my hand to rub my throbbing temples, looking at the people in the courtyard, feeling utterly drowsy. Fan Biao also wiped the sleepiness from his face. He was already dark-skinned, and after staying up all night, his complexion reflected light as if he had been waxed. He raised his hand to straighten the wrinkles in his tattered Taoist robe. The summer night was sweltering, and with the rain that night, even in the early hours of the morning, the air was still thick with a sticky, humid heat.

The two followed behind Grandpa Wu, the courtyard already solemn. The entire Qiu family, young and old, were dressed in mourning clothes, their faces sallow and haggard, yet they seemed oblivious, still chatting and laughing, occasionally discussing the results of last night's mahjong game; one yawn after another, yet they stood silently. The neighbors who had come to help with the funeral were also ready to go, the atmosphere both oppressive and strange.

After a brief reorganization, the funeral procession slowly set off. The Qiu family relatives led the way, while Fan Biao and I followed in the middle, heading towards the cemetery deep in the mountains.

It was July, and a heavy rain last night had completely soaked the mountain paths, making them utterly muddy. The paths were already rugged, but the rain had made them even more treacherous, a mixture of yellow mud, weeds, and rotten leaves. Every step sank deep into the mud, leaving shoes caked with a thick layer of sludge. The weather was muggy and humid, without a breath of wind. Just a few steps and you were drenched in sweat. The damp heat, mingled with the earthy stench, made breathing difficult, and the entire group could only move forward slowly, one step at a time, making the journey exceptionally arduous.

Luckily, my job was relatively easy; I was only responsible for setting off firecrackers, and there were quite a few rules to it. We had to light firecrackers whenever we passed someone's house, a fork in the road, a bridge, a well, or other graves. My buddy had a blast setting them off, and I didn't pay much attention, just throwing them around as we went!

The funeral procession trudged along like earthworms crawling on the ground. By the time they finally reached the mountain cemetery, dawn had broken in the east, and the rosy clouds were ablaze with light.

The mountains were shrouded in a damp mist after the rain, with a thin layer of wet fog floating everywhere. The leaves and branches of the plants were covered with round water droplets, and the lush greenery was vibrant and refreshing. The air was damp and cool, yet exceptionally fresh, having shed the heat of the summer day and filled with the natural scent of grass and decaying earth.

The rising sun slowly ascends on the horizon, spreading out layers of brilliant morning clouds, a tapestry of gold, red, orange, and pink that paints the entire sky crimson. The morning birds in the mountains awaken, their clear, chirping calls echoing across the hillsides.

On one side, there was the vibrant energy of the mountains and forests after a summer rain in July; on the other, the solemn sorrow of burial. Life and death cycle endlessly. Standing in the crowd, I couldn't help but feel that the yin and yang of heaven and earth had already predetermined everything, and we were merely members of that cycle, going through life and death together.

As everyone gradually took their places in the cemetery, a cool breeze carrying the fragrance of grass and trees brushed against their faces, yet it could not dispel the solemnity of the burial site. Fan Biao's expression was solemn, his brows furrowed, and his aura composed. Old Man Wu stroked his sparse, graying beard, his face deeply wrinkled, his expression solemn and dignified. The two of them, one in front and one behind, took the lead in presiding over the burial ceremony.

People from the surrounding villages who were helping watched as the gongs were struck and the drums rose and fell, the clanging sounds echoing through the quiet mountain forest, spreading far and wide with the morning breeze, the mournful music lingering and sorrowful.

I stood beside the grave, clutching a long string of firecrackers in my hand. The morning dew of midsummer clung to my fingertips, cool and damp, as I watched the burial ceremony unfold slowly before me.

After the coffin was lowered and the ceremony was halfway through, I raised my hand to light the fuse. The crackling sound of firecrackers suddenly exploded, breaking the tranquility of the mountain forest. Wisps of smoke rose and slowly drifted away with the damp mountain breeze after the rain.

The entire burial ceremony was elaborate and solemn, only concluding as the sun gradually rose higher and the July heat began to intensify. Grandpa Wu led the group to pack up the funeral implements, and they descended the mountain in twos and threes, traversing the half-dried, muddy path, retracing their steps back to the Qiu family's old courtyard. The courtyard still retained the chill of the funeral and the lingering smell of incense, with scattered scraps of paper money and other trash on the ground.

After working for most of the morning and tidying up the tools we brought, Grandpa Wu, being old and exhausted from the summer heat, had beads of sweat on his face. He waved his hand at us wearily and said, "Ah Biao, Xiao Yuan, now that things are done here, I'll take everyone back first. You can go back too."

We nodded in response and watched as Grandpa Wu and his group left together. The courtyard instantly fell silent, leaving only Fan Biao and me, along with a few young men from the Qiu family who were guarding the house.

We rested briefly, then got back into the car and headed home. As we walked along the road, we passed a fork in the road and saw Bai He's house.

The gate was tightly shut, and the walls and courtyard were covered with lush, overgrown vines, a stark contrast to the house's otherwise desolate atmosphere. Inside, there was no sound, not a single human voice.

Thinking of Bai He's lonely figure carrying Sally into the darkness last night, his hoarse and sorrowful voice, and looking at this tightly closed door, a deep sadness welled up in my heart. The wind gently rustled through the branches in front of the door, adding to the desolation and loneliness.

Fan Biao slammed on the brakes, staring at the tightly closed gate. His brows furrowed slightly, his face somber, and a hint of regret and heartache lingered in his eyes. He remained silent for a long time. I sat quietly in the passenger seat, my heart filled with mixed emotions, unable to utter a single word.

After a moment, the two tacitly averted their gazes, lingering no longer. Fan Biao said, "Let's go!"

The car slowly drove away from the village, heading towards Fan Biao's home.

After returning to Lao Fan's house, I felt a bit homesick. It had been about ten days since I left home. I used to go home every weekend when I was in school, so I told Fan Biao. He said that since Grandpa Wu hadn't arranged anything for me or him, Fan Biao drove me home.

When they got home, the family was very welcoming to the unfamiliar Old Fan, and they insisted that he stay for dinner. Fan Biao didn't stand on ceremony with them.

And it was after that meal that Lao Fan became a regular visitor to my house. During our conversations, my parents kept praising Lao Fan for being capable, unlike me, who was all grown up and couldn't do anything. Fan Biao seemed a little embarrassed by their praise, but I didn't mind. Anyway, I'm used to hearing it!

The summer holiday passed quickly. A few days after returning from Old Qiu's house, Bai He told Fan Biao and me the whole story of what had happened. It turned out that the reason the village was filled with demonic energy on the first day we went there was not because of the monkey demon—the monkey demon was already dead—but because the badger demon had told Bai He the secret method to save Sally, and Sally emitted the energy when Bai He used the secret method to save her.

Sally's health had been deteriorating for a long time, and death was only a matter of time. Sally was Bai He's only concern and companion. The old man coincidentally captured three badger demon brothers. Bai He could get along normally with the badger demons because he was a member of the Hundred Immortals Sect. The badger demons were cultivating in the mountains and had heard of Bai He from other demons; they were essentially on the same side. But the old man was different; he was just an ordinary person. He not only disrupted the balance between humans and demons but also nearly killed the three demons. Badgers are known for their vengefulness and decisiveness. After killing Old Qiu, they captured his soul. Since Bai He had a connection with them and had saved them, they conceived the idea of ​​using a human soul to prolong Sally's life. However, their method of killing Old Qiu was too sinister, and Old Qiu's son invited Grandpa Wu, a traditional charlatan specializing in the Three Pure Ones. Old Fan and I were unwittingly drawn into the mess. In truth, no one was really at fault in this matter. If we have to insist on saying who was right and who was wrong, we can only say that Old Qiu's momentary evil deeds sowed the seeds of evil consequences, ultimately costing him his life.

As for the man with the strange ears, Lao Fan said he should be from the Hundred Immortals Sect, but we still don't know his purpose or intentions. Why did he take away Sally and the badger demon from the village who had cultivated into demons? The badger demon seemed to be very familiar with that guy at the time, which puzzled Fan Biao and me.

Old Fan told me that he actually knew some demons from the Hundred Immortals Sect, but they were all orthodox wild immortals who never did evil and protected their own areas. Moreover, the demon race had always lived in the mountains and rarely ventured into human life, often avoiding human activities. So how could a demon who had cultivated to enlightenment have entered the human world?

He said something must have happened to the demon race, and told me to be careful at school, to avoid anything strange around me, and to contact him if I encountered anything that needed to be dealt with alone, and not to go it alone. I scoffed at myself, thinking, "Brother, you really think highly of me. If I really encountered something strange, with my timid personality, I'd probably be too busy hiding to even think about it. I wouldn't dare go it alone! What a load of crap!"