Chapter Twelve: Forgotten Completely

The Elder Thief did not deny that there were heroes and kind-hearted people in the martial world, but for the Yuan family, they did not want to be purely good.

The Elder Thief deliberately delayed Qin Qing for two days, until his lips were covered in blisters from talking, before finally calling him over and stuffing a bunch of things into his hands. “Take all this with you. It could save your life when it really counts.”

Qin Qing was dumbfounded at the sight. What on earth were these things?

A weighing rod, counterweights, iron blocks, rags stuffed into plastic bags... the most absurd item was a worn-out cloth shoe with no sole.

Qin Qing glanced at me as if to ask, “How can these things save my life?”

I replied calmly, “My grandfather told you to take these because he cares about you. You think only talismans, cinnabar, and peach-wood swords can fight ghosts?”

“Nonsense. Those are just for outsiders to see. There are plenty of things that can beat ghosts. True masters can chase ghosts away with just a handful of sand.”

“We spent quite some effort preparing these items.”

The Elder Thief picked up a roughly one-inch-long triangular iron piece. “Do you know what this is?”

“This is the tip of a ploughshare knocked off from a plough that’s been used to till the land for five years. Any ghost connected to the earth fears the ploughshare.”

“You know how Yin Jiao died in the Investiture of the Gods, right? His head was ploughed off. When he was later enshrined as a deity, he became the Grand Duke Star — even the Grand Duke fears the ploughshare. So, do you think other ghosts wouldn’t be scared?”

What the Elder Thief said was partly true, partly not.

Iron ploughshares do indeed harm ghosts, especially those dwelling in the soil; they’re far more effective against zombies than donkey hooves. But they are less useful against other entities.

Qin Qing slung the large bundle on his back and then asked me, “Young Master San, why aren’t you carrying anything?”

“I don’t need those things!” I said casually, which instantly sparked admiration in Qin Qing’s eyes.

That was precisely the effect I wanted. What do sorcerers fear most? That their employers won’t listen and hold them back. Making the employer obey is a required skill for every sorcerer.

It wasn’t that I carried nothing at all; I had concealed everything in my field jacket.

A scout’s operation requires cleanliness and efficiency. Carrying too many items not only impedes movement but also risks exposing the target.

Though it seemed I carried nothing, from my hair to my shoe soles, every part was laden with hidden perils.

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When I brought Qin Qing to Sandaohezi, he was immediately stunned. “Where’s my family home? It’s gone!”

Qin Qing was bewildered, pointing to a red brick and tile house ahead. “This isn’t my home. Where did my family house go?”

While he was speaking, a passing villager approached and asked, “Young man, who are you looking for?”

Qin Qing was dazed, “Brother Li, don’t you recognize me? I’m Qin Qing, Qin Yun’s younger brother.”

The man looked puzzled. “Who’s Qin Yun?”

Qin Qing pointed at the house and said, “I grew up in that house. I’m Qin Qing from the old Qin family!”

The man warned cautiously, “This is the old Zhao family’s place. You must have the wrong location.”

“How could I be wrong? Your father…” Qin Qing started to retort but I stopped him. “Brother, this fellow got lost as a child and only remembers Sandaohezi. He probably misremembers.”

Only then did the man relax. “I heard the village once lost a child, but that family moved away long ago. You might want to ask the village chief. He’s an elder and might know something.”

“Thank you! I’ll take my brother to look around a bit more. Maybe he’s wrong about the village too. If not, we’ll find the village chief.”

After sending the man off, I lowered my voice to Qin Qing. “From now on, stop thinking of yourself as a local.”

Qin Qing’s voice cracked with tears. “Then what do we do?”

I said, “Forget your home for now. Let’s visit Old Guanggan’s house.”

Qin Qing told me that Old Guanggan was named Wang Yimin, a forest ranger living some distance from the village, nestled near the mountain base.

Old Qin family’s house was gone, but Old Guanggan’s home still stood intact.

Qin Qing tried to climb the wall to open the door for me, but I stopped him.

I stepped to the door and raised two fingers to point at the door gods painted on it. Suddenly, blood welled from their eyes, and the gate creaked open just a crack.

Peering through the gap, the courtyard was neat but lifeless. Shadows flickered behind the half-open door.

It seemed Old Guanggan’s home had also been occupied!

I raised my right hand gently, crossing my middle and index fingers in a knocking gesture, tapping the door three times while chanting:

“Knocking on Heaven’s gate with folded hands, awakening the gods with a phrase, ghosts and spirits enter the hall, all deities manifest and restore peace.”

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I was using the “Scout’s Spirit Awakening Technique”—simply put, in places I didn’t want to enter myself but wished to see clearly, I would activate the spirits in the house to assist me.

In Northeast rural homes, not every household worships protective household deities, but during the New Year, every family posts door gods, the God of Wealth, and the Kitchen God. Sticking up those images doesn’t necessarily mean true belief; many do it out of respect for tradition.

Like the God of Wealth image—pasting it during the New Year is a way to invite good fortune, but actual worship follows different procedures.

These deity images are mass-printed, without consecration or spiritual activation, so they don’t always work. But once awakened by the technique, they become effective.

The door gods’ eyes instantly sharpened, glowing with a commanding presence that needed no anger.

Inside, a furious roar rose, objects clattered wildly, sounding like a fight was breaking out.

Qin Qing was stunned. “Young Master San, what’s happening inside?”

Before he could finish, I covered his mouth, then flicked a talisman from between my fingers, igniting it with fire and placing it into his mouth. “Swallow it. It won’t burn you. Wait for me at the door.”

I pushed the gate open and entered the courtyard, took a few steps inside, then suddenly turned to see Qin Qing was indeed behind me.

His eyes gleamed fiercely, and a swirl of white mist curled around his feet, forming a spirit snake that slithered from his left leg to his shoulder, transforming into a snakehead that pressed upon his shoulder. Its blood-red eyes fixed on my face.

Qin Qing and the white snake spoke in unison, “This has nothing to do with you. Stay out of it, or you’ll bring disaster upon yourself.”

“Enough!” I barked sharply, and the gate slammed shut with a thud.

Qin Qing startled at the sound, shivering instinctively. I shouted again, “Get lost!”

A flash of white light burst from him. The snake-shaped mist was expelled forcibly from his body and thrown toward the gate.

As the snake spirit was flung away, a handful of snow-like sparks slid from my sleeve into my palm. I pushed off the ground, dodged around Qin Qing, and charged toward the gate, slashing my hand to pin the snake spirit onto the door.

After striking, I immediately retracted my hand and stepped back, standing beside Qin Qing.