Chapter 15

Chapter 15

I started the car and made a U-turn to get back on the road, but my vision suddenly went black.

Frightful screams and the rhythmic thudding of someone smashing the car echoed in my ears.

In a daze, I remembered the black sedan I had seen earlier. It had been covered in dents, but those hadn’t been caused by a crash-it had been beaten into that state by people.

In the past, in remote areas, there were often gangs of thugs who would block the road during heavy rain to commit robberies.

Afterward, they would bury the people and the car deep in the mountains, where they wouldn’t be found for years.

“Brother, Brother!” Kong Liang was shouting in my ear.

I could hear him, but I just couldn’t see.

I yelled for Kong Liang to grab the steering wheel, but I didn’t hear a response.

I reached out with one hand for the Soul-Whip. It was clearly right by my side, yet no matter how I felt around, I couldn’t touch it.

Suddenly, a piercing beam of light shone into my eyes.

My vision snapped back, and I realized my car was about to slam into the mountainside along the highway.

Kong Liang hadn’t heard a word I said; he was simply clutching the door handle and screaming at the top of his lungs.

I yanked the steering wheel hard, and the car swerved away, scraping against the guardrail as it turned.

I grabbed the Soul-Whip and lashed it violently over my head toward the back.

There was another sharp crack.

My car was back on the road, safe.

Before leaving, I got out of the car one last time to retrieve my Master’s broken headlight from behind the guardrail.

The beam of light that had hit my eyes earlier seemed to have come from it.

After my Master passed away, the heavy truck that had been with him for over a decade-the one he could never bring himself to sell-had been scrapped.

Now, this lamp was likely all that remained of it.

Kong Liang fell ill as soon as he got home, burning with a fever of thirty-nine degrees Celsius.

Even so, he persevered and joined us for my Master’s burial.

I don’t know if this experience will change him.

But I think it will have some sort of impact on his life.

After the burial, I drove back home. A few days after arriving, I received a call from Wei Zhang.

Wei Zhang told me that he had completely recovered and no longer needed to take any medication.

He had also asked around about the jade and Dongling Peak.

He said that the jade produced at Dongling Peak used to be of poor quality; perhaps because of the red soil, the jade was filled with blood-red veins.

But at some point, certain Feng Shui masters began saying that this Blood-soaked Jade was the most suitable material for a deceased person’s Mouth Jade. They claimed it could accumulate merit and ensure the person would rise to high office and wealth in their next life.

Later, many people in the surrounding areas began to prize the Mouth Jade from Dongling Peak.

Many elderly people were constantly preoccupied with preparing a piece for themselves, and many would sneak off to Dongling Peak, hoping to scavenge even a small scrap of leftover material.

However, some people felt that since they hadn’t done much to earn merit in this life, they probably wouldn’t enjoy much fortune in the next, even with a Mouth Jade.

And so, the business of Jade Nurturing arose.

The yellow ritual paper Wei Zhang had found was being used for Jade Nurturing-the goal was to transfer Wei Zhang’s merit into the jade so it could be used by someone else.

Wei Zhang laughed at the absurdity of it all as he spoke. Back then, Dongling Peak had been covered in boulders, and yellow ritual paper and red strings were everywhere. The practice continued despite repeated bans until the entire mountain was leveled with explosives.

After we finished discussing these matters, Wei Zhang finally told me that a childhood friend of his had sold his life details to someone else for a mere twenty thousand yuan.

Over the phone, Wei Zhang let out a long sigh. He said, “Brother Long, I was so disheartened at first. I thought I’d never do another good deed again.

“But then I thought about it-if I stop doing good things, does that mean people won’t try to harm me anymore?

“Maybe it’s precisely because I did those good deeds that I was able to dream of that stone and meet you.

“So, good people really do get rewarded in the end, right?”

(The End)