164: Chapter 164: Moriyama People

Before dawn broke, Zhou Rui came to knock on the door.

When Chen Zhen opened the door, he was holding two cups of soy milk, the straws already inserted, with beads of condensation on the cups.

"The tickets are bought. For seven-thirty."

Chen Zhen took the soy milk and took a sip.

It was from the same shop as last time, cloyingly sweet. "What time did you get up?"

"Five o'clock. Couldn't sleep."

Zhou Rui leaned against the doorframe and took a sip himself. "I spent all night looking up information on the Mountain Guardian. There's nothing online."

"That kind of person wouldn't go online."

"True." Zhou Rui finished his soy milk, crushed the cup, and tossed it into the trash can in the hallway. "What if Uncle Chen doesn't admit it?"

Chen Zhen thought for a moment. "He will admit it."

At seven-twenty, the two arrived at the high-speed railway station.

Yun Xi was already waiting at the entrance, holding three tickets.

She was wearing a dark gray windbreaker, her hood down, her hair slightly messy from the morning breeze.

"How about the matter with Elder Lin?"

Chen Zhen took the tickets.

"It's done. He asked me to bring something to Uncle Chen."

Yun Xi patted her backpack; it was bulging, and it was unclear what was inside.

"What is it?"

"He didn't say. Just said Uncle Chen will know when he sees it."

On the high-speed train, Zhou Rui leaned against the window to catch up on sleep, his mouth slightly open.

Yun Xi was scrolling through her phone, the light from the screen reflecting on her face, her expression indifferent.

Chen Zhen closed his eyes, running through the notes he had flipped through last night in his mind.

In the notebook about North Mountain, Shen Zhiyuan had mentioned a detail.

The Mountain Guardian does not cultivate Buddhism or Dao, and the knowledge is passed down to only one person per generation.

But they possess a special ability—the ability to perceive the status of the Seal.

No spiritual power required, no Spell required; it's innate.

Does Uncle Chen have this ability? He said Shen Zhiyuan had a "gray complexion, like he hadn't slept for days."

He saw it.

Ordinary people wouldn't notice such things.

He opened his eyes, and the sky outside was already bright.

Fields, villages, and mountains flew backward grid by grid.

At ten-thirty, the three arrived at Shiqiao Village.

On the persimmon tree at the entrance of the village, those few orange-red fruits were still there, softer than yesterday, their skins slightly wrinkled.

The door to Uncle Chen's house was closed, and a strong, slightly bitter scent of medicinal herbs seeped through the cracks in the door panel.

Zhou Rui knocked. He knocked a few times, but there was no response. He knocked again, and Uncle Chen's voice came from inside, slower than yesterday. "Who is it?"

"Sent by Han Lie!"

The door opened. Uncle Chen was wearing that old military overcoat, the buttons still misaligned, the hem uneven.

He glanced at the three of them, his gaze pausing when it swept over Chen Zhen, then he stepped aside. "Come in."

The room was the same as before. An iron pot sat on the stove, covered, steaming. The scent of herbs was coming from the pot.

Yun Xi took a cloth bag out of her backpack and placed it on the table. "Elder Lin asked me to bring this to you."

Uncle Chen glanced at the cloth bag but didn't touch it. "Is he still alive?"

"Alive. In good health."

Uncle Chen nodded, then picked up the cloth bag and untied the string.

Inside was a stone, the size of a palm, black, with a smooth surface, like black jade.

He turned it over and over, examining it twice, then placed it on the table.

"He still remembers, at least."

The pot on the stove bubbled, the steam making the lid jump up and down.

Uncle Chen turned to turn off the heat and lifted the lid. Inside was brewing a brown medicinal decoction, the dregs settled at the bottom; it was impossible to tell what it was.

"Sit." He poured the medicine into a bowl—a pitch-black bowl—lifted it, blew on it, and drank slowly.

Zhou Rui sat on a chair, his leg shaking under the table.

Chen Zhen stood by the window, looking at the persimmon tree in the yard. Yun Xi leaned against the doorframe, hands in her pockets.

Uncle Chen finished the medicine, set down the bowl, and wiped his mouth.

"You are here because of the matter at North Mountain."

Chen Zhen turned to look at him. "You are the Mountain Guardian."

A statement, not a question.

Uncle Chen neither admitted nor denied it. He took the bowl to the stove and wiped the table with a rag. "When that old man first came, he asked the same thing. I said no. He believed me." He glanced at Chen Zhen. "You are smarter than him."

"Why didn't you admit it then?"

Uncle Chen sat down, placing his hands on his knees. "Not admitting it was to stay alive. If you admit it, you have to guard it. If you succeed, no one knows. If you fail, you lose your life." He paused. "That's how my father died."

Zhou Rui's leg stopped shaking.

"He died on North Mountain. The Seal had loosened, and he went to reinforce it. When he returned, he was covered in wounds and didn't make it through that night."

Uncle Chen glanced at the black stone on the table. "That was what he left behind. He said that if someone came with this later, they were one of us."

Yun Xi straightened up from the doorframe. "Has the Seal been loosening significantly lately?"

Uncle Chen nodded. "Seven or eight years now. Loosening more every year. That old man realized it when he came the last time. He reinforced it once, and it held for thirty years. Now it's loose again."

Chen Zhen walked to the table and sat down. "What is sealed inside the Seal?"

Uncle Chen shook his head. "Don't know. My father didn't know either. Passed down from the previous generation, they only said it cannot be opened, cannot be asked about."

"Shen Zhiyuan didn't find out either?"

"He checked. County annals, genealogy records, oral accounts from the village elders. He found one name."

Chen Zhen looked at him. Uncle Chen stood up, walked into the inner room, brought out a yellowed genealogy record, flipped to a page, and placed it on the table. The handwriting was handwritten, small regular script with a brush, and in some places, the ink had faded.

On it was written a line: "Liu Yuan, first generation of North Mountain Mountain Guardian, tasked during the Zhizheng era of the Great Yuan."

"Liu?" Chen Zhen thought of Master Liu.

"Liu Yuan was an ancestor. Later, the surname was changed to avoid disaster." Uncle Chen closed the genealogy record. "That old man stopped investigating after finding this."

"Why?"

Uncle Chen looked at him. "Because Liu Yuan had another identity. He was an Outer Sect Disciple of Longhu Mountain at the time, specializing in Talisman stone carving."

Longhu Mountain. Talisman stone carving.

A scene flashed through Chen Zhen's mind—at the foot of Fu Mountain in Nancheng, Master Liu's father, that illiterate old stonemason, carving runes onto an inkstone. He was a descendant of Liu Yuan. The stonemason who carved runes and the Bloodline of the Mountain Guardian were from the same root.

"Do you know Master Liu? Nancheng, Fushan Town, the one who carves inkstones."

Uncle Chen was silent for a few seconds. "I know him. Distant relative. Haven't been in contact for many years."

"He has a jade plaque in his hand, with the character 'North' carved on the back."

Uncle Chen looked up, a flash of light in his eyes. "You've seen it?"

"I have. At the foot of Fu Mountain. He buried it back."

Uncle Chen froze, then smiled. The smile was faint, as if he had let out a sigh of relief. "That's good. It belongs there."

Chen Zhen took out that original North Mountain jade plaque and placed it on the table. "This is the one Shen Zhiyuan took from the stone box. I need to use it to reinforce the Seal."

Uncle Chen stared at the jade plaque for a long time. "Do you know how to use it?"

"I do."

Uncle Chen stood up, walked to the window, and turned his back to them. The light in the room dimmed; the sun was blocked by clouds. The lingering scent of medicine on the stove still floated in the air.

"That old man wanted to reinforce it back then too. He couldn't do it."

"Why?"

Uncle Chen turned around. "Because he wasn't of the Mountain Guardian Bloodline. The Seal recognizes blood. Are you?"

Chen Zhen didn't speak. He held the original North Mountain jade plaque in his palm, closed his eyes, and slowly injected spiritual power. The jade plaque lit up, light leaking from between his fingers, shining on the table, on the wall, and on Uncle Chen's face.

Uncle Chen watched the light, his lips moving. He couldn't speak.

Chen Zhen opened his eyes and looked at him. "I am not. But the jade plaque recognizes me."

Uncle Chen was silent for a long time. Then he walked back to the table and reached out. "Let me see."

Chen Zhen handed him the jade plaque. Uncle Chen took it, examined it over and over, then handed it back. "When that old man took this plaque back then, it didn't react."

"He might have taken the one with the carving."

Uncle Chen froze for a moment, then nodded slowly. "That makes sense. He took the wrong one."

Chen Zhen put the jade plaque away and stood up. "Going up the mountain tomorrow. Are you coming?"

Uncle Chen looked at him, and slowly, nodded. "Going. It's time to go."