Chapter 64: Something That Should Not Exist

Chapter 64: Something That Should Not Exist

Many villagers who had no particular troubles still wished to pray for peace, good health, and well-being. Thus, a great number came seeking talismans and charms. The village was small, but Zhang Zhidào spent an entire day there attending to their requests.

As dusk approached, Zhang Zhidào claimed he needed to enter the mountains to offer prayers. He invited Zhang Sanlu to accompany him, but Sanlu, wishing to avoid unnecessary complications and uninterested in whatever Zhang Zhidào planned to do in the mountains, chose instead to remain in the village, eating and drinking with the others.

Yet, unexpectedly, that very night, Chang Hui left the mountains alone and instructed the village chief and elders to gather all the able-bodied men to dig for a rare natural treasure.

Most of the land in the village belonged to the chief, the elders, and a few wealthy households. The majority of villagers were tenant farmers. Even if some were reluctant, they had little choice but to comply with the landowners’ demands. Moreover, this effort was in service to the immortal master, a deed believed to accumulate merit, so the villagers were eager to participate.

In total, twenty or thirty strong men were gathered—a substantial portion of the village’s able-bodied youth. They brought mules, tools, and provisions, forming a long procession that wound into the mountains by torchlight. In the darkness, their line twisted up the slopes like a giant centipede.

No one returned from the mountains that night.

At dawn, Chang Hui reappeared in the village, visibly exhausted.

Li Wang, the village chief, hurried to offer him a bowl of water, asking tentatively, “Daoist Chang Hui, please drink some water. Um... why have you returned alone? Where is the immortal master? And the young men from the village?”

Chang Hui drank deeply but ignored the chief’s questions. Instead, he turned to Zhang Sanlu. “Master Zhang, my teacher asked me to deliver a message to you. As for what happens next, he said the decision is yours.”

“What message?” Zhang Sanlu asked, both suspicious and puzzled.

Chang Hui glanced around at those present, then waved everyone out, shut the door, and leaned in close to Zhang Sanlu, lowering his voice so much that no one a step away could hear.

The single sentence he whispered left Zhang Sanlu stunned and deeply unsettled.

“The immortal master said I should show you something—once you see it, you’ll seek him out yourself.”

Zhang Sanlu stared at Chang Hui, his mind racing. What did that mean? Why would Zhang Zhidào send such a cryptic message? Questions crowded his thoughts, but he strove to keep his composure, responding with studied indifference.

“Did the immortal master find something in the mountains? What is it? What’s it for?”

Chang Hui seemed surprised by his reaction, but after a brief pause, he replied, “Yes, but I can’t explain it clearly. The immortal master said, if I show you this, you’ll understand.”

With that, he produced an object from his clothing and held it out to Zhang Sanlu.

It was a round piece of metal, slightly flattened on the sides, resembling an oversized go piece. Time had covered it with a thick layer of rust.

Zhang Sanlu took the object. It felt heavier than he expected—was it some kind of ritual implement?

But when he turned the corroded disc over, he realized immediately what it was.

It was the face of a wristwatch!

Zhang Sanlu’s eyes widened in disbelief as he looked up at Chang Hui, searching his face, as if hoping to discern whether the man, too, was from another world.

Chang Hui, seeing that Zhang Sanlu recognized the object, was equally astonished. “So you do know what this is?”

Zhang Sanlu said nothing, lowering his gaze to study the watch face in his hand, though inside his mind was in turmoil. How could such a thing exist here? Could this world truly be real, merely intersecting with another? And was he not the only one to traverse these worlds?

His thoughts tangled into chaos as he examined the case. The metal had clearly weathered many years of wind and rain, yet remained remarkably intact. The surface was slightly concave, where once a glass cover must have fitted, now long gone. The original numbers and markings were all but eroded, though faint traces of symbols and patterns could still be made out.

Delicate engravings adorned the edge of the case, worn nearly away by the passage of time. The holes for the crown and band were clogged with dirt and rust.

Drawing a deep breath, Zhang Sanlu handed the case back to Chang Hui.

“This is an interesting trinket, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Zhang Sanlu may have been mentally unwell, but he was no fool—those were two very different things. He would never admit to recognizing the object.

Chang Hui nodded. “The immortal master also said, if you claim not to know this thing, wouldn’t you at least be curious about its origins?”

“Where is it?” Zhang Sanlu asked.

Chang Hui merely grinned, though whether from satisfaction at having convinced Sanlu, or for some other reason, was unclear.

Zhang Sanlu chose to believe it was the former.

This time, only Zhang Sanlu and Chang Hui set out. Hui Niang was left behind in the village, entrusted to one of the elders’ households, where she would eat and sleep with the family’s children. Originally, Chang Hui intended to leave her with the village chief, Guo Wang, but for reasons perhaps related to Guo Quanyou, Zhang Sanlu had little fondness for any of the chiefs.

The two men traveled in silence. By now, Zhang Sanlu had grown accustomed to arduous journeys. Chang Hui made no attempt at conversation, yet for some reason, Zhang Sanlu felt he had something he wanted to say.

So they walked—Sanlu watching the mountains, the trees, the drifting clouds. The scenery changed gradually, the mountains growing steeper and the path narrower.

After more than half a day’s trek, as evening fell, they stood on a sheer cliff where the path vanished ahead—one step further would mean plunging into an abyss, with the cliff rising behind them. The view here was magnificent: before them, verdant peaks stretched into the distance, the kind of beauty that, in another world, would have been a famed tourist destination.

But here, with no safety measures or guardrails, a single misstep would mean certain death.

“We’re here?” Zhang Sanlu looked around, but saw no sign of villagers digging as he had imagined.

“Almost. The real path is up the mountain,” Chang Hui replied calmly.

He drew out two talismans, handing one to Zhang Sanlu, who eyed the cryptic characters with curiosity.

Then Chang Hui turned around. “Stick the talisman on my back.”

Zhang Sanlu complied, and Chang Hui turned him around in turn. “On terrain this steep, we’ll need the immortal master’s aid,” he said as he pressed the talisman firmly against Sanlu’s back, patting it lightly to signal it was secured.

Sanlu instinctively pressed the talisman harder against his own back—he could not control whether the immortal master’s talisman would work, but he could make sure it was stuck on tight. After all, one can never be too careful.

Chang Hui caught his small gesture, and let out a soft, amused snort through his nose.