Metaphysics’ Public Enemy 43

Chapter 43:

A Strange Case of Male Pregnancy (Conclusion):

Oh, I’ve Fainted…

The rain had been falling for a long time, the muddy ground making running difficult. A fall down the slippery slope would be painful. Fortunately, all three were skilled in martial arts, their footing more secure than ordinary people. They found an opening in the crowd and slipped away, their figures disappearing into the undergrowth.

Crouching beneath the bushes on a slope, they concealed themselves, the villagers’ shouts and the drumming of rain on the leaves their only company. Peeking through the grass, they saw feet passing by, churning the mud, the villagers searching, their flashlights cutting through the darkness, the beams passing over their heads.

Reason didn’t work with mobs. Against so many, escape was the only option. They couldn’t unleash the ghost on them, especially with a Southern Daoist present. The Southern and Northern sects were the two orthodox branches, their disciples tasked not only with exorcising evil, but also punishing those who misused their powers. Captured by them, they would be taken to Mount Jielü and forced to perform penance, sweeping the thousand steps leading to the summit, a task that even the elderly masters performed with surprising vigor.

The villagers surrounded the village, knowing every escape route, the women guarding the houses, the men blocking the paths. Chen Henian couldn’t move yet, two villagers close by, their voices carrying through the night. He didn’t want to waste time on them.

He inhaled sharply, his eyes turning to his feet, a long, thin shadow slithering towards him. His hand shot out, catching it.

“A snake.” He gripped its head, its fangs bared, its tail thrashing against his arm, the smell of damp earth and snake filling his nostrils. It was a thin snake, almost invisible in the undergrowth. He threw it aside. “I don’t want your gallbladder, get lost.”

It was a bamboo pit viper, beautiful but venomous.

The snake, stunned, lay on the ground, shaking its head. Another snake, black and red, appeared, and all three found themselves fending off snakes in the undergrowth.

“Snakes! Watch your feet! Don’t reach into the bushes!” The villagers weren’t the only ones being attacked. A man yelled, his voice filled with terror. The ground was swarming with snakes, as if the entire mountain had descended upon them, slithering towards them, biting at their legs.

The rain intensified, the darkness deepening. The villagers, their vision obscured, their experience useless against the sudden onslaught, were bitten, their screams echoing through the night as they stumbled and fell.

“Let’s go.” Jiang Wan released the Black Wraith, its aura repelling the snakes, the villagers in chaos, creating an opportunity for their escape. They climbed the mountain, leaving the villagers behind.

Soaked to the bone, their clothes dripping, their bodies chilled, they reached a clearing, taking shelter beneath a large tree. Fortunately, there was no thunder or lightning.

Jiang Wan wrung the water from her hair. “Where do we go now? They’ll be waiting for us at the bus stop in the morning. We can’t go that way.”

“I know another way out, a path that avoids the village entrance. That’s how I got here,” Zuo He said, pointing in a direction.

Jiang Wan, thinking it was a good idea, turned to Chen Henian. “What do you think?”

Chen Henian frowned, disliking the feeling of wet clothes against his skin. He opened his suitcase, taking out the compass, its needle spinning. He pointed in a different direction. “This way.”

He was pointing deeper into the mountains. The snake had the gallbladder, and the compass could track it.

“You’re still chasing that snake?” Jiang Wan asked.

“Of course,” Chen Henian replied, his eyes fixed on the compass, the determination of a predator unwilling to let go of its prey.

“That’s going to be difficult,” she said.

Zuo He, seeing this, said, “Then we’ll part ways here. I’m leaving.”

“You’re not going to kill the snake?” Chen Henian asked.

“It’s just a pitiful spirit,” Zuo He replied. “If I had caught it, I would have taken it back to the mountain to be punished. But it escaped. I’m not skilled enough to capture it. I’ll leave it at that.”

Chen Henian nodded. “Alright, you can go.”

But Zuo He didn’t leave, stepping closer, his gaze fixed on Chen Henian.

“What do you want?” Chen Henian asked, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Before I leave, I want something back,” Zuo He pointed at his suitcase.

Chen Henian’s face darkened. “You want something from me?”

“Yes,” Zuo He said. “I saw it, clearly. That’s the Heart-Seeing Mirror, an artifact belonging to my sect. The disciple who carried it died, and the mirror was lost. It’s a valuable treasure to us. Please return it.”

Chen Henian scoffed. “What if I refuse?”

“I’ll do my best to retrieve it. If I fail, I’ll report this to my sect,” Zuo He replied.

“You want to fight me?” Chen Henian asked.

Zuo He nodded seriously.

Chen Henian smiled. “I’m not opposed to giving it back. I’m not interested in other people’s heirlooms. You can have it, but let’s be fair.”

“Did you know a mirror spirit was born from that mirror?”

“That ghost? Yes, I saw it,” Zuo He replied.

“Good, that saves me the trouble of explaining.” Chen Henian’s voice turned cold, and he grabbed Zuo He by the collar, as if about to hit him. “That ghost destroyed my shop when it appeared! Do you know how much I lost?”

“How much?”

Chen Henian’s voice rose, his demeanor aggressive. “200,000 yuan! I had to spend all my savings to repair the shop!”

“And I’ve been taking care of it all this time! With interest, that’s 400,000 yuan!”

He extended his hand. “Pay up, and you can have the mirror.”

Zuo He was in a difficult position. His pockets were empty. “It should pay for the damages, but I don’t have that kind of money.”

“I’ll repay you after I report this to my sect.”

“That won’t do,” Chen Henian said. “If I lose the mirror and don’t get paid, I’ll be the one suffering the loss.”

“I won’t lie to you,” Zuo He said quickly. “I swear.”

“No, I don’t want your oath,” Chen Henian said. “I have a solution.”

“Tell me.”

“I need an assistant at my shop. Work for me, pay off your debt, and then you can have the mirror back.”

He smiled. “Our work is similar. You’ll still gain experience working with me.”

“That’s a good idea,” Zuo He considered it. “I accept.” Then his expression turned serious. “But I won’t do anything unethical.”

Before Chen Henian could reply, Jiang Wan burst out laughing, slapping her thigh and pointing at Zuo He. “Are all Southern Daoists like you?”

“Oh my god! You actually believed them! That shabby little shop…”

Chen Henian glared at her. “Shut up and let’s go.” He tossed his suitcase to Zuo He. “Hold onto it carefully, there are valuable things inside.”

Zuo He took the suitcase, looking at the compass in Chen Henian’s hand. “Your compass…”

Chen Henian, annoyed, said, “Don’t even think about it.”

“I was just curious,” Zuo He said. “The craftsmanship is exquisite. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Chen Henian didn’t reply.

Jiang Wan laughed again.

The rain continued, the air cold and damp, their stomachs empty. Zuo He took out a dry pancake, sharing it with them. Chen Henian followed the compass, climbing one mountain after another, their exhaustion growing.

This snake was incredibly elusive.

As the sun rose, he finally saw fresh tracks in the mud, untouched by the rain.

They followed the tracks to a misty valley, the visibility poor, but the compass remained steady, leading them to a narrow passage, a cave entrance.

They entered the cold, dark cave, following the passage to a clearing.

Bright sunlight greeted them, a field of pink stretching before them, hundreds of peach trees in full bloom, the ground dry, the fallen petals pristine, a beautiful sight.

Too beautiful, almost unsettling.

“A real Peach Blossom Spring,” Zuo He said, surprised.

“Bullshit,” Chen Henian replied.

“It’s July.”

Peach trees didn’t bloom in July.

As they approached, they saw bells hanging from the branches, jingling as they walked past, no wind, a sign of something supernatural.

Jiang Wan plucked a bell from a branch, then dropped it instantly. A hard-shelled insect, resembling a cicada, crawled out.

The compass needle pointed further ahead. “Let’s go,” Chen Henian said, the sound of the bells irritating.

They walked faster, the peach trees lining the edge of a terraced field, the scent in the air growing stronger, not the fragrance of flowers, but something else.

“Wait…” Zuo He’s voice was weak. “There’s something wrong with that smell.”

“Don’t breathe it in.” As he spoke, he stumbled, collapsing to the ground, unconscious.

Fortunately, he had been holding the suitcase. Chen Henian was relieved. As he bent down to check on Zuo He, he heard footsteps, light and quick, and he paused, exchanging glances with Jiang Wan.

“Ah…” Jiang Wan gasped, clutching her chest, her voice filled with pain, her eyes darting around. “Poison, I… I think I’m dying.”

She collapsed at Chen Henian’s feet, stiff as a corpse.

Chen Henian clicked his tongue. She had fallen right where he had intended to lie down. He glared at her, stepping over her body. Protected by the great ghost, he was unaffected by the scent, but he had to play along.

He clutched his head, coughing, his eyes scanning the ground for a suitable spot to “faint.” The grass was damp and dirty, and he hesitated, prolonging his “collapse” until he found a satisfactory spot, then slowly sank to the ground, his head resting on his arm.

“Poisonous,” he murmured.