Wandering Gods of Day and Night-Chapter 40 - 37 The Dream of Jing Country
40: Chapter 37: The Dream of Jing Country
40 -37: The Dream of Jing Country
“Was it really the Blood Well?”
After confirming several times, Yuan Buyu’s expression turned extremely complicated—surprise, joy, confusion, and fear all layered and shifted on his wrinkled face like dog’s tail grass.
“What’s wrong, Old Man Yuan?”
“Hiss~ Why do you have such a forewarning before you light incense?”
Yuan Buyu, still worried that his old eyes might be failing him, looked closely again.
Then he sat cross-legged on the bamboo bed, like “The Thinker” statue, with his right hand resting on his cheek and his left hand hanging down on his knee.
Zhou Xuan felt it was awkward to rush him and sat closely beside him, eyes closed, continuing to rest his eyes.
The moment he closed his eyes, his ears acted up again.
Shh~shh~shh,
White noise came,
Starting yesterday, Zhou Xuan not only saw things he shouldn’t have seen, but his ears started hearing words he shouldn’t have heard.
For instance, after Tong Douzi urinated on the Buddha’s back, he heard demonic chanting, morning bells, and evening drums.
Now, as the sound field opened with the white noise, he heard sounds he shouldn’t have heard.
“Speaking of which, a person living in the martial arts world is not in control of their own life.
No matter how skilled they are, did any of the disciples truly have their back?
No matter how high their tactics, how much could flesh-and-blood people defend against a hidden arrow?”
This voice, Yun Zheyue’s tone, was deliberate and earnest, a genuine storyteller’s style.
Zhou Xuan had never heard the content of the book and didn’t know what it was about, but he was familiar with the voice—
—the storyteller in the Luoying Hall who narrated “The Living Doll” through the phonograph. freeweɓnovēl.coɱ
Back when he was in the hall, Zhou Xuan felt that the storyteller from the phonograph must be a master.
In the days that followed, he met Yuan Buyu, and even though he listened to Yuan Buyu narrating mystical old stories in the morning, recognizing him as a storyteller with extraordinary skills, he never associated Yuan Buyu’s image with that of the master storyteller.
*This was caused by Zhou Xuan’s fixed mindset.*
The master storyteller’s “The Living Doll” was something that came from the phonograph.
He mistakenly thought that this master could not be a living person.
That’s why he sought Zhou Lingyi’s help at the time, using the Wu Family’s Cow Bell to try to find the master.
Now, with a new understanding of supernatural forces, Zhou Xuan knew that within the Ping Shui Prefecture, Divine People and Ghostly figures had abilities surpassing the Ghostly; sound from a phonograph was a mere trifle, though thoughts were fixed and not so easy to shift.
Now that his ears were spiritually attuned and he heard the storyteller’s voice again, while he was sitting beside Yuan Buyu,
the connection between the two was no longer hard to guess.
This time, the image of Old Yuan overlapped entirely with that of the master storyteller in his heart.
“Old Yuan, so you were the storyteller!”
Zhou Xuan opened his eyes and stared at Yuan Buyu.
By this time, Yuan Buyu had emerged from his “The Thinker” state, his old face creased with a mischievous smile, looking just like an audacious old rascal.
“A spiritually attuned person who has seen the Blood Well does have exceptionally strong perception.
Just sitting next to me, you can discern my identity.”
“You admit it?”
“My identity, your sister knows.
It’s nothing worth hiding…” Yuan Buyu waved his hand, as carefree as the wind and clouds.
“Bang!”
“Aw, shit…”
Yuan Buyu’s serene demeanor vanished, clutching his forehead in pain as Zhou Xuan hit him soundly on the head.
“Old Yuan, you gave me a start back there in Luoying Hall!
Instead of being an esteemed master, you acted like a wandering soul, running to a phonograph to be a storyteller?
Only you could come up with that.
If not for my strong nerves at the time, the average person would have been scared to death by you before being harmed by the Ghost Baby!”
“I just wanted to play with you a bit back then, wait till disaster was at hand, then save you, let you experience life’s ups and downs.
Never thought you, kid, were smart, lied down and fell asleep, leaving the Ghost Baby helpless.”
“Enough nonsense!
First, tell me about the Blood Well in my eyes.”
Zhou Xuan was nonchalant, and even though he had learned that Yuan Buyu was a master storyteller, he wasn’t hesitant, nor did he rush to bow down and humbly ask for techniques and teachings.
This attitude fit Yuan Buyu’s disposition.
“The Blood Well matter is a long story.
Why Jing Country is called Jing Country is related to a Blood Well.”
Zhou Xuan perked up.
He always thought the name Jing Country was strange,
hardly bold and majestic, rather quite ordinary—it turned out the name had a story.
“Where is the Blood Well in Jing Country?”
“In the dreams of the Divine People and Ghostly figures of Jing Country.”
Yuan Buyu looked up at the ceiling, calculating on his fingers.
“Doing the math, the year Jing Country was renamed was sixty-four years ago.
I wasn’t born yet, but I still remember my master saying that winter was particularly cold, with icicles hanging under the eaves almost reaching the ground…”
“Old Yuan…not telling stories, change your professional habits, focus on the main point.”
“You’re really impatient, kid.
My emotions were just brewing and got interrupted, it’s quite uncomfortable.”
Yuan Buyu sulked like a child, but he didn’t insist on holding back, shortening the story,
“On the eighth night of the twelfth lunar month, sixty-four years ago, all the Divine People in Jing Country had a dream of a well bubbling with blood.
Though everyone dreamed of the well, each dream was different.
Some people dreamed of loved ones who had long passed appearing in the well, jumping in; some saw the well’s water flooding, submerging them; others heard murmuring voices from the well, seemingly speaking of some earthly secret.
In this nationwide dream, many Divine People and Ghostly figures woke up midway, hurriedly found their relatives, and arranged their affairs, then continued to dream, from which they never awakened.
How many didn’t wake up?
The exact number is unclear, but my master estimated roughly one in a hundred.”
One in a hundred didn’t wake up; the ratio seems small, but given the large base, the number of Divine People and Ghostly figures who died in their dreams was extremely high.
Yuan Buyu opened a drawer, pulled out a white-copper water pipe, loaded it with tobacco, set up the water, lit it, and offered it to Zhou Xuan: “Authentic Qingcheng Water Smoke, want a puff?”
“I’ll just smoke a cigarette.”
In his previous life, Zhou Xuan visited the park with his second uncle and took a puff from a water pipe in a corner, almost choking to death from its potency.
“I don’t usually smoke either…just a puff or two when I’m vexed.”
Yuan Buyu bit down on the copper mouthpiece, inhaled deeply, and the water in the bottle bubbled loudly.
Zhou Xuan could see Yuan Buyu’s hand was shaking.
One in a hundred to die, like a tally marked by King Yama, the terror and danger of it, only those older, closer to the year Jing Country was renamed, could truly perceive it.
“After that dream well appeared, the incense masters of all Great Halls convened in the Capital City to jointly deduce, attempting to trace the well’s origin and development.
But that well, like a lightning bolt across the edge of the sky, left no trace after it struck.
Everywhere across the country, people were deployed to search for it; mountains and high ridges were scoured, but an identical well was never found.
However, they did find seven young people who had seen the Blood Well in their forewarnings before lighting incense.”
“As for what happened afterwards, I don’t know the details.
I only know that the country named itself after the well, and those seven young people were sent to the Capital City to be meticulously trained by Divine People and Great Yin People.
The purpose of this training was twofold: first, those young people were naturally gifted, with exceptional perception.
Once the incense was lit in their Tangkou, the incense thrived, their Dao Level progressed rapidly, and even the worldly-wise Divine and Great Yin People had never seen such growth speed.
The second purpose was from Jing Country’s high authorities’ selfishness; they tried to decipher the mystery contained in the Blood Well when these Blood Well youths grew and had extraordinary perceptions.”
“Did they succeed?” Zhou Xuan asked.
“No, in less than five years after the incense was lit, all seven young people went mad.
In the Capital City, a master from a Tangkou of the Mysterious Sect was a madman, a fanatic.
He believed that the young people’s madness had no bearing, hoping to find clues to unravel the Blood Well’s secret from their bodies,
so he chained one of the girls in the cell he had set up, dissected her, removed her Five Organs, dug out her intestines, and extracted her brain…”
Damn!
Human experimentation?
Zhou Xuan only felt a faint pain in his kidneys…
