C9 Black Datura

Guo approached with a large water jug to top off our glasses. He caught Third Uncle intently examining a piece of paper and, driven by curiosity, leaned in for a closer look. Curiosity is a common trait among people, after all. To our surprise, after scrutinizing the paper for a moment, Guo pointed to the iron bowl depicted on it and exclaimed, "This... have you all seen this thing before?"

Third Uncle, startled, looked up at Guo and inquired, "What? You're familiar with this item?"

Guo nodded, "It was a few years back, but it left a strong impression on me. I'm pretty sure I'm not mistaken."

Eager for details, Third Uncle quickly ushered Guo to sit down and urged him, "Hurry, tell me, where did you come across this?"

In a hushed, secretive tone, Guo began, "You're aware of the old Chen place, right? The second-story house belonging to Chen Dafa, the one where two people died?"

Third Uncle acknowledged that he did.

Guo went on, "Back then, Lee Ximei was pregnant. She showed up at my snack stand holding that bowl. Despite her being known as a shrew and for her loose morals, she was a fellow villager and pregnant, so I offered to help her with the bowl. But she just glared at me, as if I was about to steal her precious bowl. She waited at the stand for a bit until a stranger arrived, someone who looked like he sold roasted lamb skewers. They didn't dine at my stall, just left in a hurry. Not long after, Old Chen killed Lee Ximei with a shovel. That day's events are etched in my memory. And that bowl, it's quite unique; I've never seen anything like it elsewhere. It must be an antique, or why else would she guard it so jealously?"

Third Uncle then pointed to the plant in the drawing and asked, "And this? Did you see her with this kind of plant?"

After a thoughtful pause, Guo shook his head, "No, there was definitely no plant, just the empty bowl. But that guy with the lamb skewers, he did have a bag with him. No idea what was in it."

Third Uncle nodded in understanding and handed over the money for the meal.

We had figured out the origin of the bowl, but the identity of the plant remained a mystery. Then, a stroke of inspiration hit me, and I turned to Third Uncle, "Do you know where the city library is?"

Third Uncle's eyes sparkled with understanding. "You're thinking of researching the plant's background at the library? You're sharp, kid. Why didn't that occur to me? Let's head to the city right now."

We hailed a cab and rushed to the city library. Once we had completed the necessary paperwork, we dove into our research.

Since Third Uncle had only caught a glimpse of the plant's exterior, we were at a loss for details. Our search was challenging, and despite poring over materials from morning till afternoon and finding several similar plant images, Third Uncle was hesitant to confirm any of them.

At that point, a person sitting across from us, who had been observing our frantic search and the pictures spread out on the table, asked with a hint of curiosity, "You don't seem like botanists. What exactly are you trying to find?"

Third Uncle and I looked up simultaneously to see an elderly man with gold-rimmed glasses and silver-white hair, a pen and notebook laid out before him—a clear mark of a scholar.

Third Uncle eagerly approached, presenting the man with his sketch, "Sir, we're trying to identify this plant. With your extensive knowledge, do you recognize it?"

The drawing by Third Uncle was hardly commendable, barely a step above a child's scribble. The old man squinted, removed his glasses to clean them, and then examined the sketch intently.

After scrutinizing it for a good ten minutes, the old man slowly lifted his head, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, fixing us with an unblinking gaze. Feeling uneasy under his scrutiny, I quickly gestured and addressed him, "Sir?"

He snapped out of his reverie and inquired, "Where did you come across this flower?"

I was about to respond when Third Uncle interjected, "Oh, no. This is just a drawing a friend passed along to me. He probably made it up on a whim..."

I glanced at Third Uncle, aware of how unconvincing his lie was, riddled with holes.

The old man, however, seemed unfazed. He simply nodded, tapped the sketch with his pen, and rose to fetch several books from the shelves. After some searching, he spread open a volume and pointed, "I thought as much. This plant isn't native to our region. It actually originates from the ancient Western Regions. Given the differences in climate and geography, it's unlikely to survive if transplanted here."

We felt as though we had stumbled upon a treasure and no longer paid attention to the elderly gentleman. Instead, we eagerly took the book and began to pore over its contents.

The book was a translation, detailing the customs and culture of the ancient Western Regions. There was an illustration on one of the pages. Although Third Uncle's drawing was somewhat crude, the features matched those in the book. It appeared that the elderly man had pinpointed it with great accuracy.

According to the book, the plant was known as black datura. Its roots could be used medicinally, while its leaves contained a potent poison. Hence, it was also referred to by another name: hell grass.

There was a legend associated with this hell grass. It told of two young lovers: a man who died for love and a woman who remained devoted to him in her grief. She nurtured a black datura plant, which was toxic to all but her. She alone could tenderly touch its leaves and water it with her tears. After eighteen years, the roots of the black datura broke through the soil, transforming into a darling child that bore a striking resemblance to the man. The child clung to the woman's side until she passed away, after which it vanished back into the earth.

The book offered little else about the black datura, and after finishing it, we found no further information of value.

Third Uncle closed the book and gave the old man a nod of thanks. "We appreciate your help, sir. We'll be on our way now."

The old man gave us a glance and smiled. "My name is Ma, and I'm a professor at the Bincheng University in Shenshi, specifically in the Department of Paleontology. May I ask why you are searching for this flower?"

It was then that I noticed the old man's eyes, eager and searching. It was clear that he too held a keen interest in the black datura. Yet, since we were unaware of his true motives, we could not disclose the full story.

I quickly offered an explanation, "Oh, it's nothing serious. We just came across a photo online and it piqued our interest, so we thought we'd look into it."

With that, Third Uncle and I rose from our seats and made our way to the exit. To our surprise, the old man stood up and followed us, taking a few quick steps to catch up. "Which website did you find this flower on? Have you actually seen this flower? Could you possibly take me to see it?"

I was just spouting nonsense; how could I possibly know which website it was? Besides, it had nothing to do with the origin of the black datura that Second Uncle mentioned. Yet, the old man didn't seem interested in probing further; he was more eager to see the flower. But thinking about it, the Hell Grass is inside that haunted house—how could I possibly take a stranger there?

I could tell the old man had an academic fervor and feared he wouldn't let us off the hook easily, so I didn't dare respond. I quickly grabbed Second Uncle and bolted out of the library without a backward glance.

We were faster than the old man, and we managed to lose him. Third Uncle glanced back and remarked, "Is that old man not quite right in the head? He looked like he was about to devour us."

I chuckled and replied, "He's been eyeing us since we walked in. Scholars of his age tend to be eccentric. It's likely he's researching this very subject, so his interest in rare plants is understandable. Let's not worry about him for now; we have more pressing matters. We've located the Hell Grass, but will it really help us deal with that cursed house?"

"It's bound to help. My thoughts are still scattered; let's head back and I'll sort everything out."

We made our way back to the basement. Since yesterday, we hadn't had a moment's rest or sleep. By the time we got back, we were completely worn out. Third Uncle's place was a mess, but I was too tired to care and immediately passed out on the bed.

I'm not sure how long I slept, but a sharp noise abruptly woke me.

Sitting up, I saw Third Uncle on the floor, picking up the pieces of a shattered bottle.

Noticing I was awake, Third Uncle gave an embarrassed smile and said, "Sorry about that, I accidentally kicked it over. Since you're up, forget about sleeping—let me fill you in on the iron bowl and the Hell Grass."

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I yawned, "Third Uncle, what time is it? What have you been up to? Didn't you get any sleep?"

With bloodshot eyes, Third Uncle replied, "Sleep? You've been out all afternoon. I can't afford to be as relaxed as you. How can I sleep without figuring this out?"

"Have you figured it out yet?"

Third Uncle slapped his chest confidently and proclaimed, "Nonsense. Who do you think I am? Lee Dongbin, can a trivial matter like this stump me? Let me explain..."

He scooted closer, cleared some space by pushing aside the clutter, and sat down before continuing, "First of all, about this 'iron' bowl... We've been misled. It's not iron at all; it's made of copper..."

I was perplexed. "What's the difference between an iron bowl and a copper bowl?"

Third Uncle chuckled. "Oh, there's a big difference. I'm certain it's copper because I believe this bowl is used for soul-locking. And the reason a copper bowl can lock souls has nothing to do with the bowl itself, but with the copper. In Feng Shui, many malevolent forces are associated with the earth element, and the best way to counteract them is with the metal element. Earth gives birth to metal, and metal can dissipate the energy of earth. Naturally, metals are used for this purpose, with gold being the most esteemed. But gold is far too costly, so copper becomes the most fitting choice. That's why items like copper figurines and ancient copper coins are widely used in Feng Shui. The same principle applies to this copper bowl; it's probably used to neutralize malevolent energies."

Curious, I inquired, "So you're saying this copper bowl is meant for soul-locking? Which soul? Whose soul is it locking? And how does it lock a soul?"

"When someone has died in the house, their soul would be the one to lock. Based on my preliminary assessment, the copper bowl was locking the soul of the Ghost Infant. When I went upstairs, I might have broken a taboo, accidentally releasing the Ghost Infant. That's why it sought you out and left a small handprint on your shoulder."

As I listened to Third Uncle's explanation, my confusion only grew. I asked, "And what role does the black datura play?"

It appeared that Third Uncle had been deep in thought while I was asleep. When I questioned him, he shared his deductions with me.

With Third Uncle's reasoning, the sequence of events and their underlying logic began to clarify. The occurrences in that room slowly started to make sense in my mind.