I am the Ruler of the Kingdom of Mysterious-Chapter 313 - 277: Returning to the "Mother’s" Home
Sang Que and Zheng Wujun followed the map given by Wu Cheng, taking a hidden path up the mountain.
The mountain forest was very damp, with tall trees, sprawling vines, and shrubs and wild grass everywhere, making mosquitoes particularly annoying.
"I’m sorry, Brother Wu Jun, I lied to you last time."
Sang Que initiated an apology, referring to the last time in Xujiawan Village when Zheng Wujun asked about her teacher, and she said her master was dead.
The current situation was that the institute ’confirmed’ her master wasn’t dead, but merely avoiding harassment, which was the excuse she used.
Zheng Wujun swung a knife to cut through the vines blocking their way, "It’s fine, as long as your master doesn’t mind."
Sang Que: ......
Her master would’ve minded, but unfortunately, there’s no opportunity now.
There was a warning sign at the foot of the mountain, forbidding entry. They didn’t see anyone else during this section, but there were some drink bottles and packaging in the roadside grass, indicating that some people had been sneaking up the mountain.
Night fell quickly, and the forest was thick. Zheng Wujun pulled out a flashlight, but Sang Que’s vision now needed no flashlight to see everything around, a capability provided by the Yin Child Ghost Eye.
The tropical night’s wind was also warm and sticky, clinging uncomfortably to the skin, while the rustling leaves created an eerie, shadowy atmosphere.
Suddenly, an intricate web of red threads appeared, blocking the path ahead. Sang Que’s heart beat inexplicably, which was unusual as she usually did not have a heartbeat.
There were many red threads in Sang Que’s ghost realm.
Such red threads were common in the Southern Ocean, often used by temple people to set up a ’barrier,’ similar to the barriers in fantasy novels that could seal off an area and block out filth.
These red threads, weathered by wind and rain, had become old and faded; under the tree tying the red threads was a small wooden shen kan covered with moss, enshrining a small golden Buddha statue.
Outside the shen kan were three brass plates, containing rotting, worm-ridden fruits.
In the Southern Ocean, a red thread barrier implied restricted access.
Zheng Wujun said nothing, using his knife to lift the red thread, bent to pass through, and continued towards the temple halfway up the mountain, with Sang Que close behind.
Zheng Wujun wasn’t fond of talking, always focused on surroundings on the way, and often glanced back at following Sang Que.
After walking a while, another tangle of red thread appeared between two trees, blocking the way, and another shen kan was below, its offerings of fruit also rotting and wormy.
"We’ve circled back." Zheng Wujun said in a deep voice.
This time, he pulled from his pocket a handful of rice soaked in black dog blood, dropping it as he passed the red thread again, veering off the path to carve a new way with his knife.
But after about three minutes, despite the changed direction, red threads once again obstructed the path ahead.
Sang Que felt the barrier made with these red threads had no malice; it was likely set up by Southern Ocean monks due to temple troubles, intended to direct intruders away.
"Let me try."
Sang Que stepped forward, standing outside the red lines, gazing towards the temple’s golden roof through gaps between trees.
"Relax, don’t resist."
Sang Que grasped Zheng Wujun’s arm, who found her hand chillingly cold, causing him to shiver.
Suddenly everything went black before his eyes as he staggered forward, regaining his footing only to find himself before the temple.
Zheng Wujun stared wide-eyed in disbelief at Sang Que.
The last time in Xujiawan Village, she couldn’t handle even a Ghost Child, and now, only half a year later, she mastered such profound Daoist techniques? Was this the long-lost Five Ghost Transport Technique?
Descriptions were only found in ancient texts, none of the Daoists he knew had succeeded in practicing it over decades.
"Don’t waste time. It’s best to find the person before midnight."
Sang Que felt uneasy, sensing the aura connected to a Golden Child, the root of both her heart and ghost realm’s power.
Was this considered ’returning to her origins’?
The temple was small and decrepit, entangled by roots and vines with its crumbling walls, while broken cobblestones had many weeds growing through.
Unidentifiable animal sounds echoed from the temple’s depths, and a strange chill rode the wind.
Wu Cheng’s data stated that behind this temple was a cemetery where the original mountaintop village buried its dead before relocating to the foot, abandoning the upper village.
Zheng Wujun intended to enter but was called back by Sang Que.
"Wait, let me check first."
Since they came to find someone, wasting time and energy wasn’t wise. Sang Que activated her ghost eye, envisioning Zheng Xuan while scanning the temple from outside.
Her eyes soon turned blood-red, terrifying. Zheng Wujun involuntarily retreated, awed by Sang Que’s chilling aura.
What other frightening abilities did this young girl possess?
Sang Que quickly saw Zheng Xuan’s figure, his usual lazy demeanor, disheveled hair, cigarette in mouth, electric baton in hand, disappearing around a corner.
"Follow me."
Sang Que traced Zheng Xuan’s path, turned the corner, and activated her ghost eye again.
A bloody, grotesque apparition appeared close before her, jolting Sang Que back a step. Luckily, she was used to shocks, steadied her breath, and saw a Southern Ocean Flying Head...
All these were echoes from the past, not present occurrences.
A disheveled head floated with a beating heart and visceral organs, grotesquely suspended, crashing towards Zheng Xuan.
Zheng Xuan activated his baton; the flying head, startled by the flashing purple electricity, quickly vanished. He stepped forward, pausing at knocking sounds, abruptly turning.
"Be careful, flying heads might be around."
Sang Que reminded, as Zheng Wujun understood, drawing his usual black Heavenly Gang Ruler, scanning with his flashlight.
Sang Que led, using her ghost eye to trace Zheng Xuan’s path, while Zheng Wujun guarded the rear.
Soon, after using her ghost eye five times, Sang Que located where the event occurred.
The ghost eye saw Zheng Xuan on the edge of a grassy, stone-paved square, reaching towards a well.
Blinking, the reach changed to a girl’s, and as she swapped places, the girl fled alone.
In the eye’s view, a dark baby clung tightly to the girl’s abdomen.
Once the ghost eye’s power faded, no water well was before Sang Que’s eyes; a towering century-old tree stood, with excavation marks below, likely left by previous searchers.
"I can confirm the last sighting of Mr. Zheng was under this tree; but at the time, he saw a well here, not the tree."
Sang Que relayed everything to Zheng Wujun, who unfalteringly believed her and inspected the tree, at a loss.
The two rechecked the surroundings, finding red threads encircled the square and many doorways and paths bore tattered or intact and some cut red threads.
As Sang Que neared the north side’s red thread, her heart raced; no such feeling arose from the other three sides.
Realizing another ’barrier’ was present, the ghost eye could view past images but not see beneath this ’barrier.’
The principle of this barrier eluded Sang Que; the temple’s differed from the forest’s, being more complex and dangerous, whereas the latter was safer and easier for her to breach.
Wu Cheng’s prolonged fruitlessness likely stemmed from everything concealed by this ’barrier.’
Sang Que pressed her heart, "Let’s go, Golden Child, take me to find your ’mother’."
