Chapter 112: Tale of Qingshui

Chapter 112: Chapter 112: Tale of Qingshui

They lingered in the dim hush of the inn’s corner for only a heartbeat before rising again. The traveler’s tale dripped in exaggeration and horror, yet how easily this evil could ran rampant in border villages was shocking to say the least.

Leng Yue threw a glance toward the window, where the night’s wind stirred rotting leaves across the street. Shadows darted through the periphery, as though spying on them.

Li Wei touched the coin still in his palm, feeling its weight. He stepped lightly to the door, pressing it closed softly behind them. "Let us go for a walk," he whispered. "Better to see with our own eyes then listen to hearsay."

They slipped into the street. The inn’s lantern glowed behind them, faint and flickering. The cold air seemed sharper now, as though it carried half‑heard sighs. The village slept soundly, but this was not the case for the entire populace.

Past the shuttered stalls and silent wagons, they made their way toward the fields located over on the eastern part of town. The night was dark, yet their path was lit faintly by starlight filtering through torn clouds.

The constant chirping of small insects, the distant rustling of acacia trees. It was becoming increasingly clear that there was an abnormal pattern of behavior, particularly in the vicinity of the lake close by.

At the field’s edge, the earth lay cracked, the soil torn as though by invisible talons. Crops stubbled in skeletal rows. The irrigation channels were stagnant, slimed with residue. A pale mist clung low.

"Over there," Leng Yue said, pointing. A dim spectral wisp drifted between stalks. The silhouette paused not far from them, before vanishing completely. Li Wei exhaled. "They are trying to unsettle us. It is common for malicious creatures to torment their victims by making them doubt their senses."

They advanced nonetheless, untethered by mere apparitions. The mist parted before them. A broken scarecrow stood in the middle of desolate grounds, tattered and warped, slumped in the field.

Its cloth hung in decay, the bones of its frame twisted. What caught the duo’s attention was the runes circling incessantly marring the post in spirals. A restriction like this was utterly unconventional for something meant to scare birds.

Leng Yue crouched near it, brushing aside dirt. "A mark of binding? Why would someone go to such lengths." She frowned. "The disappearances... victims were likely subdued and dragged away by the same culprit."

A sudden sound, a soft footfall in the soil behind them. "Huh?" Li Wei crouched low, hand on his shamshir. The wind stilled. The fields remained still in bated breath. From the dark came a wisp of shape. A child’s voice, distant and thin cried out "Help... please..."

Leng Yue’ looked at Lli Wei, before attempting to take a step forward. but the young master caught her arm. "Wait for a moment...." This was not just for the sake of caution, but the likelihood of a child roaming at this hour were slim though not improbable.

The mist swirled as a figure emerged. It was the very same boy that he met in the village, pale-skinned, filth in his clothes, eyes hollow. He was easily recognizable.

"They wait for seven nights..." the child muttered. "Then they rise from the lake at night. I saw it take my father into the water." The youngster struggled to hold back tears as he pointed toward the lake at the far edge of the field. Crimson tracks marred the edge of the lake-bed.

Leng Yue crouched beside him. "Calm down for a moment." She glanced at Li Wei. "Do you see any signs of qi corruption? vitality loss?" The young maiden could tell the boy was barely able to stand, Li Wei lowered his gaze. He saw threads—loose black threads—like broken strings attached to the boy, leading toward the lake. The bindings were faint, miniscule, but real.

"We must sever them quickly, it is only a matter of time before they try and snatch him." He whispered a brief incantation, and a pair of talismans unfolded in his hand, faint blue light spinning. The boy shuddered as the threads recoiled. "Damn these restrictions," Li Wei sneered at tried to cast another incantation, a great roar came from the pond.

Waters churned, red waves thrashed incessantly. From the depths rose a monolithic figure: a creature of water and flesh, its limbs elongated, eyes vacant as holes. "What..." The boy gasped and fell back, "Get back..." Leng Yue yanked the boy behind her and stood poised for combat.

The creature advanced silently, gliding over the water’s surface toward them. It carried the weight of sorrow.

Li Wei rose, his talismans held before him. "Stand behind me!" he ordered. The beast’s form blurred. Then it lunged.

Leng Yue sprang forward, blade aimed at its arm. But the creature’s flesh was not just flesh—there was also fluid. The sword pierced, only to pass through into watery void.

He roared, and his talismans flared. Golden runes scribed themselves into the air, and arcs of expelling force shot outward. The creature convulsed, smoke-like tears spilling from its form.

With a final roar, it collapsed back into the pond, waves sloshing. The water stilled. Mist retreated. Leng Yue knelt beside the shaken boy. She laid a hand upon his cheek. His eyes flickered—some life returning.

Li Wei approached and pressed a talisman into his loose hand. "Hold fast. Do not let them pull you back." The boy looked at them, trembling. "They... they live under water. They snatch anyone roaming after dark.."

Leng Yue helped him to his feet. "We will help you. But you must hide." She led him away, toward the nearby village lanes. As they withdrew, Li Wei cast one glance back at the field and the silent lake. The ritual seeds of blight still shimmered under the earth.

They returned to the inn, carrying the boy inside. The innkeeper treated them with cautious suspicion. Guards gathered in the street, torches lit. The villagers peeked at windows, whispering.

Within a private room, Leng Yue closed the door gently behind them. She knelt beside the boy, giving him water. Li Wei placed his hand over his storage pouch and brought forth a few supplies.

He looked up at Leng Yue. "This crisis is rooted beyond mere spirit beasts."

She nodded gravely. "This is a war over fields and souls. We have stepped into the crucible now. The overlord’s agents are sure to arrive soon."

Outside, in the hallway, a muffled knock sounded. "What now...." The innkeeper muttered to himself. Li Wei exchanged a look with Leng Yue. He rose, stepping to the door first, blade concealed in robe.

He opened it a crack. Two figures stood: provincial officials bearing the overlord’s sigil. Their eyes were hard, their expressions cold. Behind them, torches flared. "Strangers," one of them said, voice smooth. "By order of Protector Ba Zi. We are to inspect all travelers. Show your papers."

Li Wei’s heart was still. Leng Yue stepped to his side, silent but ready. He drew a breath. "We carry no papers," he said softly. "But we have no intention of staying long and provoking the populace"

The official’s lips curled. "I do not believe a word you say. Step out."

As they moved to comply, the boy cried out frail: "They are not evil! Leave them Be!"

Shouts echoed in the inn. Torches flickered. The villagers’ faces pressed at the windows. A crisis erupted in the humble border village—one in which fugitives and overlords would clash over blood, truth, and the rights of a dying land.