Chapter Forty-Five: Awe That Shakes Mountains and Rivers

Fate of Yin and Yang Paranormal Number Thirteen 3259 words 2026-04-11 15:21:36

What did my grandfather mean when he only told half the story? Without hesitation, Master Li continued recounting the events of long ago.

It was true that my grandfather found me in the mountains back then. However, as he carried me out from the depths of those mountains, I had already stopped breathing. At that moment, he happened to meet up with Niu Dahuang, who felt my pulse and declared, “This child barely had a breath left a moment ago, but didn’t survive. What a pity.”

The two men were at a loss. Since the child came from the mountains, they decided to bury him there—returning to his roots, so to speak. But just as my grandfather and Niu Dahuang had dug a grave and were about to lay the infant to rest, a woman in red suddenly appeared among the trees. She stood out vividly against the mountain’s green, watching my grandfather and Niu Dahuang intently.

My grandfather asked who she was, but she said little. Instead, she walked over, picked up the child from the ground, and disappeared with him into the deep forest. About half a month later, while my grandfather was out helping someone choose a gravesite, he returned home to hear an infant wailing within his house.

Entering, he found a baby lying on his bed. Looking closely, it was the same lifeless infant the woman in red had taken away. What he had never expected was that after the woman carried away the dead child, the one who had ceased breathing had somehow been brought back to life.

Thereafter, my grandfather raised the child—that child being me.

As Master Li finished telling this story, I was utterly astonished. Of course, what intrigued me most was what the woman in red had done after she took me away that could restore life to the dead. I asked Master Li this question.

He told me there were many mystical arts said to bring the dead back to life, but for a newborn, it was nearly unheard of. For a newborn’s death is typically due to lacking fate or a soul; only by borrowing fate or stealing a soul could one revive the dead.

Yet such acts are an affront to the natural order, and who would willingly defy it?

Mentioning defying the natural order reminded me of a story Madam Wang once told. I suspected that only someone like Lin Xiaofeng would dare such a thing.

Then I asked, what kind of situation was that infant in? Master Li pondered and said, the child was not stillborn, but died shortly after birth—which meant he had a soul, just not enough fate to live. So the infant was revived by borrowing fate, not by stealing a soul.

Thus, the woman in red must have taken the child somewhere and borrowed a life for him, allowing him to survive.

I listened and nodded quietly. Since my grandfather first told me the story of my origins, I had grown much stronger at heart. So when Master Li revealed the other half of the truth, I was more accepting than shocked.

When my grandfather told me I came from the depths of the mountains, I could already foresee the complexity of my origins. And behind such a convoluted past, what else was hidden?

Where did the woman in red take me, and whose fate did she borrow for me?

For now, those questions remain unanswered.

When I first heard of the woman in red, my thoughts immediately went to Weiyang. Even my grandfather had said she lived deep in the mountains, in a place called the Thirteen Streams of Yunmeng.

Could the woman in red really be Weiyang?

I asked Master Li if he knew whose fate the woman in red had borrowed for me. He only shook his head slightly, saying he had only heard of my origin from my grandfather. As for where the woman had taken me, or whose fate she had borrowed, he did not know.

I then asked if he knew of the Thirteen Streams of Yunmeng.

At this, he was taken aback and stopped in his tracks, asking why I suddenly mentioned this place.

Seeing his reaction, I knew he must have heard of it, so my interest was piqued. I asked him what kind of place it was.

"Strictly speaking, it’s a tomb," he replied.

"A tomb?" I was wide-eyed with shock. Did that mean Weiyang always lived among graves? On reflection, it seemed not so strange—Weiyang was a wandering soul, and a tomb would be a fitting abode.

"Yes, it’s a tomb. But as for who is buried there, I cannot say. Both the Daoist community and the underworld have speculated for years about who lies in the Thirteen Streams of Yunmeng. In fact, nobody knows if such a place truly exists—neither Daoist nor underworld sources have ever found any clues, or know its location."

"Some have said that the old burial mound in your village is the legendary Thirteen Streams of Yunmeng. Over twenty years ago, the Daoists opened up that mound, only to find it was a decoy. There was indeed a coffin, but just an ordinary one, and inside, there were no remains."

"What, the old mound was dug up?" I was surprised, but since this happened more than two decades ago, it was not strange that I didn’t know.

Master Li explained that during that special period, my grandfather tried to protect the mound, but the Daoists, wielding authority and policy, tied him up, denouncing him as a feudal relic. They smashed our village’s temple in the name of eradicating old traditions, and excavated the mound. When they found it was a decoy, their anger led them to smash the coffin as well.

I never imagined there was such a hidden story behind my grandfather’s persecution.

I had always thought the Daoist community would act with propriety, but never expected they would use such underhanded methods. It left me speechless.

Seeing my confusion, Master Li sighed. "Daoism presents itself as righteous, but who knows how much cruelty lies beneath the surface? Were it not for the whitewashing of the Daoist Canon, their true face would be stained with blood. Just as ancient emperors built their empires with countless lives—how much of that is recorded in the histories?"

I was shocked to hear these words from Master Li, for he himself was a Daoist.

I scratched the back of my head and asked, "Aren’t you a Daoist too?"

He gave a wry smile. "Of course."

"So... are your hands stained as well?" I asked half-jokingly, for I didn’t believe him to be that kind of person.

He didn’t hesitate. "That’s right."

Then he laughed and asked, "Why, do I not seem the type?"

I nodded. He truly didn’t seem like that, at least not to me. He only smiled faintly and said no more.

Still, I kept wondering: if the Thirteen Streams of Yunmeng are a tomb, who is buried there? If I knew their identity, would I also know whose fate the woman in red borrowed for me?

As I pondered, Master Li stopped walking.

We had been traveling deep into the mountains for half a day. "We’re here," he announced.

I looked around. It was just wild woodland—nothing resembling a shrine. I asked Master Li, who beckoned me over. I obliged, and was stunned by what I saw.

Ahead, on a rocky outcrop, a roughly one-meter square niche had been hewn into the stone. On either side, a couplet was pasted: "Might that shakes the wild and tames all beasts, wisdom that blesses all through rocky clefts." The horizontal scroll proclaimed, "Might That Shakes the Mountains and Rivers." Inside the niche was an incense burner.

The incense was offered to a red paper inscribed with: "The Spirit Seat of the Mountain God of Old Boundary Ridge."

"Senior Li, is this the Mountain God Shrine you spoke of?" I had imagined the shrine would at least be the size of a village temple, but never thought my grandfather’s mountain shrine could be so humble.

"Yes, this is it."

With that, he walked over and tore down the couplets from either side. Before I could ask why, thick fog began to rise around us.

In moments, mountain mist enveloped us. The visibility was so low that, even standing side by side, I could only see Master Li as a shadow. He warned me not to move.

The dense fog lingered a short while, and then began to clear.

"Who goes there, daring to trespass upon the Mountain God's Shrine?"

An old man’s voice called out from ahead. Listening carefully, I was shocked—it was none other than Niu Dahuang.

I never expected to find Niu Dahuang here. It was just as well; if he hadn’t come with my grandfather, he’d surely have been seized by the underworld’s soldiers.

"Grandpa Niu, it’s me!" I called out at once.

"Oh? It’s you, boy! What are you doing here?" Niu Dahuang sounded a little surprised.

Just then, Master Li spoke as well. "Master Niu, it’s been a long time!"

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