Chapter 121: Chapter 63: The Yellow Immortal (2 / 2)
Feeling uneasy, I quickly followed the few classmates ahead and hurried toward the area.
Before long, I arrived at a patch of wild, overgrown graves. Scattered low mounds dotted the field, and the weeds around them grew taller than a person. This must have been the old cemetery for the former villagers—perhaps when they passed away, some kind-hearted souls buried them in simple dirt mounds. Since the village had long been abandoned, no descendants remained to tend these graves, leaving them untended and forgotten—lonely tombs with no visitors.
As I made my way through the graves, I soon spotted a group of about twenty classmates gathered around a particular grave, chatting excitedly. From a distance, I couldn't see exactly what they were doing, but seeing them crowding around a grave mound gave me a bad feeling.
These people were too bold—did they not fear disturbing wandering spirits and getting entangled with something unclean?
Quickly, I hurried over, and when I got closer, I saw what had happened. One of the mounds had caved in, revealing a large hole. Everyone had gathered around this particular spot, and inside the grave hollow were five baby yellow weasels. Cui Hai and the others were using a stick to poke at them.
The classmates were thrilled—shouting, laughing, acting like they'd discovered a new continent. They had no intention of leaving until they caught the creatures. I took a closer look: the weasel cubs had bright golden fur, probably just over a month old. They cowered inside the mound, squeaking in fear, their eyes wide and watery as if about to cry—an utterly pitiful sight.
Seeing these little weasels hiding inside a grave mound gave me a really bad feeling.
People from rural areas might understand: yellow weasels (huang shulang) are known to be spiritually sensitive animals. More importantly, they have a habit of digging into grave mounds, building their nests inside coffins. Some say this is because they try to borrow the soul energy of the deceased to aid in their cultivation.
Old Zhang once said: humans are the most spiritually advanced beings of all life forms. If animals want to become immortals, they must become more like humans. But for creatures lacking enough spiritual power to possess humans, they resort to mimicking human form in any way they can.
There's even a saying:
"Foxes wear skulls and worship the moon."
It refers to foxes digging up graves and wearing human skulls on their heads to absorb the essence of the sun and moon. Yellow weasels are said to burrow into human bellies to cultivate—they won't climb into a living person, of course, but they nest inside the abdominal cavity of corpses.
Snakes coiling around corpses, hedgehogs sleeping in graves—these are all attempts to absorb the "human element" to accelerate their path to immortality.
With cremation now mandatory in many areas, it's harder for these animals to find corpses. Unless it's a remote mountainous region like this, most burial sites only house urns. So it's getting increasingly difficult for creatures like yellow weasels to find "good" places to cultivate.
This place, however, was particularly sinister. The nest of baby weasels was clearly inside the belly of a corpse. And yet, my classmates, excited and reckless, were determined to dig them out—completely ignoring my concerns.
Left with no choice, I warned them bluntly:
"Something's off about these creatures. I advise you not to provoke them. If they've already cultivated into earthly spirits, and you anger them, don't say I didn't warn you."
"Earth spirits?" Cui Hai sneered.
"Come on. I used to catch these things all the time as a kid. You probably don't know—huang shulang meat is great for boosting yang energy. It's even said to help with prostate issues and kidney disease. My grandpa had kidney failure and got better after eating it."
But I wasn't trying to scare anyone without cause. Yellow weasels are among the most spiritually potent animals after humans. Since ancient times, their essence has been said to be closely aligned with the Tai Chi origin of yin and yang. That gives them natural immortal potential.
If their ancestors had once performed good deeds or had attained immortality—like the legendary Huang Immortal families dating back to the Eastern Jin dynasty (you can look this up)—their descendants were often born with exceptional spiritual abilities.
These particular weasels had made a nest inside a corpse's belly. As they grew, the tight space would force them to sit upright in a posture similar to meditation, inadvertently forming a complete inner energy cycle. Moreover, their natural curiosity would trigger a desire for knowledge. Spiritually attuned as they were, living in a grave would expose them to lingering souls and spectral entities. They would begin to mimic the forms, voices, and behaviors of those spirits, gradually refining their own abilities.
Over time, they could transform into human form, become spirits or immortals—what folk traditions call earth immortals. According to ancient Chinese texts, yellow weasels may attain immortality through cultivation, spiritual guidance, or absorbing the essence of the sun, moon, and humanity—with the aid of human belief. (See the classic text Baopuzi for more.)