Tales of Folk Feng Shui Mysteries

On the way back to Chen Tiobao's house, the cold nearly froze me solid. My skin prickled and itched uncontrollably. Once we entered the yard, Chen Tiobao led me to the back of the house, stripped me of my clothes, and scrubbed my body with snow. If someone has frostbite, they must avoid warm environments—though I'll leave that as general knowledge for now.

After warming up, Chen Xiaomei served me a bowl of ginger tea and a small cup of白酒. The alcohol finally coaxed some heat back into my bones. The four younger sisters surrounded Xiaomei to comfort her, while the second sister, brash as ever, shouted at me: "Hey, Mr. Zhang, are you married?!"

What? Before I could react, Chen Xiaomei pushed her away, but the second sister kept yelling: "My sister likes you. Just take her already! She kicks in her sleep and drives me crazy. Only you can tame her!"

"Go to hell!" Xiaomei lunged at her, ready to fight. Their bickering eased Xiaomei's fear, though the whole ordeal left me flustered. The second sister even claimed Xiaomei snores and sleeps naked, making both Ma Shi and me uncomfortable.

Once recovered, Chen Tiobao stayed behind to deter villagers, while Ma Shi and I headed to the village to investigate. Despite his worry, we had no choice but to press on.

The snow fell thick as feathers, blinding white. It had raged since yesterday noon, burying the world. We trudged through knee-deep snow when Xiaomei suddenly followed us. I braced myself: "No way. If trouble comes, your father can't handle it alone."

"I'm not coming with you," she whispered, voice barely audible.

Xiaomei's simplicity reminded me of northern Chinese folk singers—no Zhao Qian's allure or Jiang Shiyu's vitality, yet earthy and genuine.

"Then why?"

"Wait here." She turned, undid her coat, and pulled something from inside her clothes. After adjusting, she handed me a pair of gloves stitched with rabbit fur and yarn.

"Mr. Zhang, you didn't have gloves yesterday. I made these last night. They've been warm in my clothes. Try them on." Her cheeks flushed.

Ma Shi grumbled: "Why didn't anyone make me gloves? I'm freezing too!"

"You don't use a compass? Just keep your hands in your pockets," Xiaomei retorted.

"Fine, I'll shut up," Ma Shi muttered, stomping ahead.

The gloves, still warm from her body, fit perfectly. Their comfort spoke volumes, but before I could thank her, she ran home, leaving me speechless.

Ma Shi teased me, but I understood her gesture. My Taoist robes severed ties with Jiang Shiyu, yet human emotions remain. Though not romantic, her kindness moved me deeply.

Leaving Changbai Mountain was inevitable after exorcising the monster, but fate intertwined us unexpectedly. Now, with snow blinding the path, Ma Shi and I ventured into the village. Most homes barred their doors, but a smokestack betrayed one shop.

After kicking open the door and threatening the owner with a knife, we learned the "fool" lived in a shack uphill. The shopkeeper's dogs, sensing our purpose, obeyed without hesitation. They pulled us to the shack, where a blind old man shouted: "Go away! I'm busy talking to my daughter!"

But the truth lay in the frozen channel diverting rainwater—the fool drank only snow and rain, avoiding the well's cursed water. The mystery deepened, and our quest continued, guided by snow, dogs, and the shadows of what lurked beneath...