Chapter Seventy-Four: The Wraiths, the Glimmer, and the Serpent Cane

Uncle Jiang said that as soon as he heard from the tea merchant about Jiang Xinyue’s abduction, he could not sit still and set off for Fang County immediately. Therefore, the person at the Zhang family’s old house could not have been him.

That night at the Xu family estate was an enigmatic one. Later, Old Xu sent someone to invite Uncle Jiang and the others to dinner, and even at the table, it felt like a sudden, unexpected test. Old Xu, in his conversation, tried to persuade Uncle Jiang to help him with something, but Uncle Jiang declined.

After dinner, Cheng Che called out to Zhang Qinglin. The two walked to a secluded spot, where Cheng Che confided that he'd decided to return to the old Zhang house that night. He wanted to check if the Candle of Lamentation was still there; he did not want to die so easily. Perhaps the legend was false, but he preferred to err on the side of caution.

After some thought, Zhang Qinglin decided to go with Cheng Che. They agreed on a plan and arranged to meet at the stone table in the front yard at a set time.

“Are you planning to leave? Where are you going?” Wu Cheng'an stood in the darkness, addressing the two who were sneaking about.

Cheng Che halted at the sound and turned back, speaking softly, “Could you not speak so loudly? Are you trying to sabotage us?”

Zhang Qinglin turned to look at Wu Cheng'an. “Why are you here?”

“That thing in the old house keeps haunting my mind. If you’re going back, I’ll go with you,” Wu Cheng'an replied, his gaze steady.

“What’s the point of you coming along?” Cheng Che raised his eyebrows.

“You should stay here. I'll go back and deal with what’s in the old house. I’ll bring it over tonight,” Zhang Qinglin said quietly.

Wu Cheng'an was unconvinced. He scanned the surroundings. “I think I can help...”

Cheng Che glanced at Zhang Qinglin but said nothing. He waved his hand, “If you really can help, come along then!”

With that, the three headed for the main gate, only to find it guarded. Quietly, they slipped around the side yard, found a lower wall, and climbed over it to escape.

Cheng Che, brushing his hands, swaggered down the silent alley. Above them, the bright full moon shone like a giant spotlight, illuminating the earth.

As they walked, the three discussed Uncle Jiang. Cheng Che said that the man sent by A-Yong had returned with news: the old house’s front door was open, and not a soul was seen inside. This meant Uncle Jiang had left the old house. Cheng Che had specifically asked about the dead rat in the east room.

The man reported seeing no dead rat—the house was spotless, with nothing out of the ordinary.

As they spoke, they reached the door of the Zhang family’s old house. The gate was wide open, and lights shone inside, startling them. Everyone had been out during the day; no one should have returned. How could the lights be on?

Zhang Qinglin stepped through the gate, surveying the courtyard. Nothing seemed unusual. They approached the house, whose door was also open. Inside, the place was chaotic, but empty.

Suddenly, the sound of crackling came from the small room. Zhang Qinglin hurried over; the small room was pitch dark. He pushed open the half-closed wooden door and saw a hunched figure, back to him, rummaging through a wooden cabinet. The person, startled by the noise, turned around and slowly straightened up.

It was none other than Uncle Jiang.

Why had Uncle Jiang returned? What was he searching for? He should be chatting with Yueyue right now, Zhang Qinglin thought.

Cheng Che followed, his expression shocked. He had seen Uncle Jiang leave with Jiang Xinyue after dinner; how could Uncle Jiang be here in the old house?

Wu Cheng'an stood at the doorway, disbelief in his eyes. He had thought the Jiang uncle kidnapped that afternoon was feigning amnesia, but now he realized he was wrong. At dinner, Uncle Jiang had conversed with Old Xu with ease, discussing all manner of topics, nothing like his second uncle. But now, the man before him...

“Is the person... rescued?” Uncle Jiang’s cold gaze fixed on the three at the door, his voice icy.

Before Zhang Qinglin could speak, Cheng Che suddenly shouted, “Uncle Jiang, weren’t you with Xinyue…”

Before Cheng Che could finish, Uncle Jiang’s expression changed in the dim light. He slowly stepped to the right.

Wu Cheng'an strode forward, his face grave. “Wu Daoyi, it really is you…”

“Uncle Jiang and your second uncle aren’t the same person? There are two of them... I don’t believe Uncle Jiang would be indifferent to the things Aunt Yun sent. You’re not Uncle Jiang!” Zhang Qinglin shouted at the man before him.

“Uh... I’m confused. Uncle Jiang is your second uncle, and your second uncle is Uncle Jiang. No, no, Uncle Jiang is with Grandpa Xu, so he’s not Uncle Jiang but your second uncle? Are they twin brothers?” Cheng Che asked.

“Hahaha... I never admitted I was your Uncle Jiang. I simply went along with it. Otherwise, how would I get what I wanted?” Wu Daoyi, standing beside the wooden chest at the wall, grinned wickedly. Somehow, a hammer appeared in his hand.

With a crack, he smashed the lock on the wooden chest. He switched the hammer to his left hand, kicked open the lid, and took out its contents, curling his lips, “Such a good nephew. You thought hiding it would keep it from me?”

“The notebook…” Zhang Qinglin clenched his fists, striding forward, pointing at Wu Daoyi, “You impersonated Uncle Jiang to get close to us just to take it?”

“For this notebook and the treasure map, many people have been sacrificed. Now, they all belong to me.”

Cheng Che looked at Zhang Qinglin, utterly perplexed. “Old Zhang, the notebook and map... Weren’t they missing when we checked Old Seven’s body? What’s going on…”

“I’ll explain when there’s time,” Zhang Qinglin replied.

“Even if you have the map, it’s only half—a partial map is nothing but scrap paper,” Wu Cheng'an shouted.

Wu Daoyi was momentarily stunned. He glared at Wu Cheng'an, “Didn’t that old woman have a map? She must have given it to you before she died. Good nephew, hand it over to your second uncle.”

“Dream on. Even if grandma gave it to me, I’ll never give it to you,” Wu Cheng'an retorted.

He had ruined the Wu family, forced Wu Cheng'an to feign madness for years; how could he hand over something so important?

At that moment, several people rushed into the courtyard. Wu Daoyi’s eyes darted as he raised the hammer and bellowed, “Don’t blame me for being ruthless. Hand over the map!”

“Watch out,” Zhang Qinglin warned, seeing Wu Daoyi swing the hammer at Cheng Che and Wu Cheng'an. He grabbed Cheng Che’s arm.

The two dodged and ran outside.

Wu Cheng'an slipped out of the dark room as well, only to find about seven or eight men in the courtyard, each holding a sharp dagger, all with vicious faces.

Zhang Qinglin and Cheng Che stood in the middle, scanning the men around them. Cheng Che asked, “Old Zhang, what’s happening now?”

“I’ve never seen these people before; I don’t know!” Zhang Qinglin replied softly.

Wu Cheng'an and Wu Daoyi began fighting over the notebook.

“Didn’t expect to arrive at such a lively moment tonight!” A voice came from the doorway as a man entered, holding a checkered handkerchief over his nose. He walked up to Zhang Qinglin and the others.

Zhang Qinglin recognized him—it was Young Master Chen. He watched warily, “What are you doing in my house?”

“You brought all these people in here; this is trespassing,” Cheng Che shouted.

Young Master Chen straightened, indifferent. “If I can get in, what’s there to fear?”

Wu Daoyi, seeing Chen arrive, stopped fighting with Wu Cheng'an, hurried to Chen’s side, discarded the hammer, wiped blood from his mouth, and said, “You’re late. Any later, my nephew would have killed me.”

Young Master Chen glanced at him dismissively, “Enough talk. Where’s the item?”

Zhang Qinglin stared at Chen in disbelief. Wu Daoyi raised the items in his hand, “Here, but remember, I want a share…”

Young Master Chen extended his right hand, “Of course! How could I forget? Once we find the treasure, you’ll get your share.”

Zhang Qinglin watched as Wu Daoyi handed the notebook and map to Young Master Chen. “So you’ve been colluding all along!”

He recalled the rescue at Mogang Bridge—it was no wonder Young Master Chen had let them off so easily.

“Hahaha… Now you know, but it’s too late…” Young Master Chen’s eyes were cold as he looked at Zhang Qinglin.

Wu Cheng'an clenched his fists. He had been deceived by Wu Daoyi, his second uncle, all this time. A fire burned in his eyes.

Young Master Chen glanced at Zhang Qinglin and the others, then around the courtyard and house. “This place isn’t safe. Move fast…” With that, he turned to leave.

His dagger-wielding men rushed at Zhang Qinglin and the others.

As Young Master Chen left, Wu Daoyi tried to follow, but as he stepped out, a blade flashed close to his neck. He reacted instantly, retreating quickly.

His face changed dramatically. He shouted, “What are you doing, Chen? Betraying me? Don’t forget what you just promised.”

Young Master Chen paused, turned back, and said, “Of course I won’t forget. Once we find the treasure, I’ll burn your share for you… hahaha…”

Wu Daoyi watched Young Master Chen disappear through the doorway, eyes blazing with anger. He grabbed the attacker’s wrist, pinned the man to the ground, and kicked him.

Zhang Qinglin choked the man in front of him, his gaze falling on Wu Daoyi, who had been blocked. He sighed inwardly.

People say: the human heart is unfathomable; never trust someone lightly, for they may betray you at any moment. People can be ruthless, stopping at nothing to achieve their goals. The heart is prone to suspicion and deceit; never lose your way by trusting blindly.

But he trusted Wu Cheng'an. That trust had always been there. Seeing Wu Cheng'an’s grim expression, he knew this encounter had deepened his hatred for his second uncle.

Wu Daoyi was wounded, slashed several times, panting as he glared at the dagger-wielding men flanking him.

Cheng Che punched the attacker before him; the man shook his head, raised his blade, and swung at Cheng Che. Dodging, Cheng Che stumbled to the ground. Scrambling up, he was slashed on the arm—the very spot with the black handprint.

A strange sound suddenly echoed in the courtyard.

Then, from behind Cheng Che, a swarm of countless rats burst forth, charging at the attacker, climbing up his legs and body. In moments, they covered him, exposing sharp teeth and biting relentlessly. The man rolled on the ground, screaming.

Cheng Che saw one run past his leg, with four legs, a long tail, a tiny head, and green glowing eyes. Each left a long, wet trail wherever it went.

Wu Daoyi staggered, pushed aside the man before him, and exclaimed in shock, “Chongqiong!”

Chongqiong, according to folklore, was a pet kept by Wangli. It lingered by rivers and lakes, gnawing on dead creatures and attacking animals near water.

People said Wangli was terrifying, but Chongqiong was even more so. It not only made ghostly sounds but its teeth contained potent venom—if bitten deeply, one would drop dead instantly.

Zhang Qinglin looked at Cheng Che and saw he had not been attacked by the Chongqiong. He hurried over, carefully stepping past the darting creatures, and helped Cheng Che up.