Chapter Fifty: Yaya Is Not Yaya
“This set of birth dates looks awfully familiar to me! Wait, are we going to sacrifice a living person?” Old Meng’s face was a mask of terror, and Han Hua beside him was wide-eyed with fear.
Bai Zhanshuang was speechless. Damn it, these two idiots!
“Nonsense! Master Wuneng is full of compassion—how could you even say something as absurd as a live sacrifice?” Bai Zhanshuang rolled her eyes hard enough to see the back of her skull.
“Then what does this mean…” Old Meng furrowed his brows, looking thoroughly confused.
“I don’t know. Let’s find this person first. Maybe there’s something unusual about them,” Bai Zhanshuang said, folding the envelope and tucking it carefully into her sleeve.
“Alright!” The three of them went down the mountain, their conversation left behind.
“Little Ducky, it’s been so long!” Right then, Fubao was busy greeting a duck.
“Huh? Ducky, how come your feathers are turning white? And why is your beak so pointy now?” Fubao poked the “little duck” on the ground, mumbling to herself.
“Fubao, that’s not a duck!” Benhai had slipped out from Madam Li’s room and was now taking refuge at Fourth Uncle’s house.
It was so much quieter here! His own mother, grandmother, and aunt were just too scary—dressing in strange clothes and performing shamanistic rituals all day, burning incense until the whole house was filled with smoke.
Even Grandpa, whose back ached, would sneak outside every day just to breathe.
“Huh? Not a duck?” Fubao looked up at Cen Hai and then back down, giving the “duck” another poke on the head.
The so-called duck was silently begging for release.
Cen Hai looked at the silly bird and shook his head. “Yesterday, Old Li from the village came to check on the pigs and happened to see this bird scurrying around the pigsty. He insisted it was a bird—explained in great detail that it was a crane.” Remembering Old Li’s words, Cen Hai eyed the chubby creature being poked, who didn’t even bother to dodge.
He shook his head again—he didn’t believe it for a second. What kind of bird is this dumb? What kind of bird can’t fly?
Fubao stroked the plump, round “duck” on the ground and muttered, “You haven’t eaten anything these days! Just wait a few days for a big feast!”
Cen Hai was puzzled. “What big feast?”
“It’s an eel! A big, fat eel!” Fubao gestured with her chubby hands.
“Tch, I thought you meant something good.” Cen Hai figured Fubao was just looking for an excuse to go play outside.
“In a few days, when Brother Gou Dan comes back, we’ll head up the mountain and catch some rabbits,” Cen Hai’s eyes lit up with the idea.
He’d been cooped up and bored out of his mind.
“Okay!” Fubao’s eyes sparkled at the thought of an adventure in the hills.
“It’s a deal, then!” Cen Hai declared, using a phrase he’d picked up from Gou Dan.
That evening, Lin Sanlang returned home. Life in the village had been anything but peaceful lately—everyone was jumpy and suspicious, so he couldn’t stand staying there any longer and came back.
As soon as he stepped inside, Lin Sanlang’s brow was furrowed, and his face was clouded with worry.
Fubao clung to Little Black, with “Ducky” and Little White trailing behind, not daring to come near. Father looked so fierce.
Meng Yun watched her husband’s darkened expression with curiosity. She rarely saw him like this—he could be quite intimidating when he wanted to be.
“What’s going on? You’re scaring the child!” Meng Yun called out. If you frighten our daughter, I’ll have words with you!
She glanced behind the patterned curtain, where one big head was lined up in front of a row of smaller ones. (Author: One big head, then the little heads—Fubao, Little Black, Little White, and Ducky.)
Lin Sanlang tried to compose his face, forcing his expression to soften.
Seeing her husband relax, Meng Yun pressed on, “What exactly happened? You look terrible.”
After a long silence, Lin Sanlang finally spoke, “Darling, should we also pray to the Koi Immortal?”
Meng Yun was speechless. So you want me to perform those terrifying rituals like my mother?