C12 The Screams of the Vengeful Souls

"Spare me, please! I'm just a local from the nearby village, gathering herbs by the river."

Tang Wan'er glanced at the man's basket, which was indeed filled with herbs and plants. She asked, "Why did you drag us away?"

The middle-aged man looked up at the setting sun, shaking his head vigorously. "I can't say here."

Tang Wan'er gave Zhang Baigui a look, and he tightened his grip on the man's hand, causing him to yelp in pain.

"Are you going to talk or not?"

"I'll talk, I'll talk, but I really can't say it here. Let me tell you back in the village," the man pleaded.

"No funny business."

They escorted him to the village just outside the woods, a small settlement with only a dozen or so homes on the outskirts of the county. As they approached, the man's tense posture relaxed. He led them to a modest home, surrounded by a fence, with a small patch of land growing a few vegetables and flowers. Inside, there was only a square table, two benches, and a bed in the corner, indicating a life of simplicity and frugality.

"Now will you talk?" Zhang Baigui blocked the door while Tang Wan'er sat on a bench, ready to interrogate.

The man poured two bowls of water from a kettle on the stove, handing them over as he sorted through the plants in his basket. "That riverbank you were at? At night, it's often haunted by spirits."

“Ghosts? Could the rumors be true?” Baigui muttered under his breath, earning an eye roll from Wan'er.

“How could there be ghosts in this world? It’s just people fooling themselves,” Wan'er said, dismissing the idea of ghosts and the supernatural. She believed that such tales arose because science hadn’t yet explained certain phenomena, leading to superstitions.

“Zhongshan County has always been prone to landslides, burying homes and fields in an instant. In the past, people sought protection from the mountain spirit by using this river as a sacrificial pit, offering young women as tributes. But even after the rituals, landslides continued to destroy villages. The sacrifices were eventually stopped, yet young women still mysteriously disappeared, and cries of the dead were often heard. People say it’s the wrath of the mountain spirit.”

Wan'er fixed her gaze on the middle-aged man, scrutinizing every expression on his face. “Have you heard these cries?”

The man paused in his task of gathering herbs, unable to hide his fear. “I have...”

After a long silence, he murmured, “Last night... just last night, I heard the wailing of a ghostly woman.”

After saying this, the middle-aged man lowered his head in silence. Tang Wan'er looked up and noticed his hands trembling slightly, a shiver brought on by fear. "I believe what you said. There really is a ghost by the river."

Zhang Baigui glanced at her in surprise. Tang Wan'er continued, "Does the ghost appear every night?"

"No, it's sporadic, but..." The old man shook his head, hesitating before finally saying, "Don't listen, don't ask. Just leave!"

Seeing the middle-aged man start a fire in the stove, Tang Wan'er stood and respectfully nodded to him. "I apologize for any offense earlier."

With that, she and Zhang Baigui left the house. By then, the night was dark, with only a few stars visible in the sky.

"Miss Tang, why didn't you keep asking? He might be the culprit."