Sky-reaching purple light flooded his vision as countless streaks of light and shadow flashed past.
Chu Qiguang felt as though his body were traversing an infinite distance, and amid the purple light that shielded him, characters seemed to swirl faintly.
The characters drifted like misty clouds and rippling waters, written in a script Chu Qiguang had never seen before. Yet somehow, a flash of insight welled up in his heart, allowing him to understand their meaning.
"Secret Register of the Purple Mansion."
Along with this revelation, the purple light flared brilliantly. Chu Qiguang felt as if struck a heavy blow directly to the head, and he blacked out on the spot.
...
Chu Qiguang blinked, looking at the open land before him—the crooked mud-brick cottages, the barren fields, and the men and women trudging back and forth to till the soil. Countless thoughts ran through his mind.
This was already his fifth day inside this body.
For five days, there had been no electricity, no internet, and no cell phones. Wherever he looked, there was only the sight of an ancient rural village.
'Sigh. How did I end up in such a godforsaken place? I worked so hard on Earth for so long, made so much money... and now it's all gone. Every last bit of it.'
'And that punk Zhou Bai... he owed me so much money and never paid it back. I was originally planning to drag him into helping me collect debts, but now he got off easy.'
Chu Qiguang clutched his chest. The more he thought about it, the more it hurt, so he could only refocus his attention on the world right in front of him.
'The Secret Register of the Purple Mansion... what on earth is that? It sent me here, but can it send me back? And where even is this Secret Register of the Purple Mansion?'
Unfortunately, aside from the purple light and unusual characters he had seen during his transit, Chu Qiguang had found no other clues whatsoever. He had no leads at all on this so-called Secret Register of the Purple Mansion.
Over these five days, Chu Qiguang had not dared to make any unusual moves. He merely browsed through the memories left in this body while cautiously going through the routines that its original owner, Ergou, used to perform, all while closely observing the village.
Perhaps because Ergou's memories blended seamlessly with his own, Chu Qiguang adapted very well to this world and gave away no flaws.
"This seems to be a village in some sort of ancient society."
"Looking at the night sky, there's no Polaris, Orion, Sirius... none of the familiar constellations are there. Is this place really not Earth anymore?"
"Sigh, if that's the case, there's no way to even guess how to go back... I might as well think about how to improve my current standard of living. Life here is far too harsh. At the very least, I have to sort out food and warmth first. I can't keep going hungry every single meal."
No air conditioning, no internet... never enough food to fill his belly, never enough clothes to keep warm. To someone like Chu Qiguang, who had loved comfort and indulgence above all else, his present living conditions were simply wretched, driving an intense desire to improve his lot.
And with his sharp powers of observation, Chu Qiguang could sense that this world was indeed vastly different from the one he had come from.
When he reached the great banyan tree at the village entrance, he saw several village elders already sitting beneath it, surrounded by five or six young lads listening eagerly to the elders' stories.
Chu Qiguang found an empty spot and sat down as well. Aside from Ergou's memories, the elders shooting the breeze here every day was his other channel for learning about this world.
An elderly peasant with graying hair and deep, craggy wrinkles across his face waved his cattail fan and sighed. "Have any of you heard about the corpse reanimation case in Boxing County?"
Seeing everyone around him shake their heads, a smug look appeared on the old peasant's face. "I heard about this from the manager when I went to sell grain at the county grain shop. They say under Boxing County, there's a village called Changle Inn. It sits on the main thoroughfare to the south, and over time, quite a few inns and taverns gathered there until it grew into a proper settlement..."
One of the youths couldn't help cutting in, "Uncle Gen, stop rambling about all that! Who doesn't know where Changle Inn came from? Hurry up and tell us what happened with the walking corpse!"
The other youths chimed in to urge him on.
Seeing how impatient they were, Uncle Gen smiled faintly and deliberately slowed his pace to keep everyone on tenterhooks before continuing, "Now, in Changle Inn, there was an old man named Cai who ran a roadside inn with his son, catering specifically to traveling merchants. On that particular day, three traveling merchants who were regulars, along with an impoverished scholar traveling in haste, came seeking lodging. But the inn was already full..."
That night, after the four pleaded with him, Old Man Cai pondered for a moment, thought of a place, and led them to another small cottage.
Behind a dim oil lamp inside the room, a canopy hung over a bed board, where a figure lay covered in black cloth. It was none other than Old Man Cai's recently deceased daughter-in-law, whose body was laid out in this room while his son had gone out to buy a coffin and had not yet returned.
Walking a few steps further in, there was a shared sleeping platform in the inner area. Worn out from their travels, the four men paid no heed to the corpse in the room. They lay down on the platform, and before long their breathing grew heavy as they fell fast asleep.
The scholar, surnamed Song, was dozing lightly and had not fallen fully asleep when he suddenly heard rustling from the mortuary bed. Opening his eyes, he saw beneath the oil lamp that the black cloth on the bed was being slowly drawn back, and a livid, bruised hand reached out.
The female corpse pulled off the black cloth, stepped off the bed, and walked toward the shared platform. A layer of white gauze still covered her face, obscuring her features, but beneath her neck, bristling white hairs trembled, seemingly continuing to sprout outward.
The corpse came to the platform, leaned over, and blew a breath of air onto one of the merchants. Then she opened her mouth, bit into his neck, and began gulping down his blood. The man who had been blown upon seemed completely insensible, offering no resistance as his flesh and blood were slowly drained away.
Terror seized Scholar Song at this sight. He kicked the men beside him with all his might, but they remained motionless.
Seeing the female corpse blow a breath toward the second man, Song could endure it no longer. With a terrified shriek, he leaped out of bed and bolted barefoot out of the house.
Song shouted as he ran, but not a soul appeared in the village. Terrified that the corpse would catch up, he ran with all his might toward the county seat until he reached a Daoist temple on the outskirts of the town and pounded frantically on the gates.
A Daoist priest opened the door and asked what was the matter. Song recounted the events, and the priest had him lead the way back.
When they returned to the room, they found the corpse leaning over the third merchant, gnawing at his neck.
Meanwhile, the Song who had come to fetch help lay fast asleep right beside them.
Seeing himself lying on the platform, Song was struck dumb. The Daoist priest immediately struck him with a palm strike and shouted, "Return at once!"
A bout of dizziness seized him, the world spinning. When Song woke again, he was back in bed. Looking up, he saw that the Daoist priest had already severed the female corpse's head with a sword strike, and she lay sprawled beside him.
As Uncle Gen finished the story, one youth asked in wonder, "How did that Scholar Song turn into two people?"
Another youth beside him said, "I bet Scholar Song was scared out of his wits! His soul left his body, and that's how he ran off to the temple to fetch the Daoist priest."
"Uncle Gen, do you know what really happened?"
While the youths were discussing it, a bald stranger clad in hemp clothes and straw sandals had arrived beneath the banyan tree at some point.
He found an empty spot, sat down, and looked toward Uncle Gen with a gentle smile, seemingly also waiting for his answer.
Uncle Gen said placidly, "Once the soul leaves the body, one is dead for sure. What chance would there be to seek help at a Daoist temple? That scholar had devoted himself wholeheartedly to the Dao in his daily life, praying day and night to Daoist Lord Xuanyuan. That was why the Daoist Lord manifested his power, enabling him to send a dream to the temple that night to summon help from the Daoist priest."
Hearing Uncle Gen's explanation, everyone nodded in understanding, their curiosity satisfied. Some marveled at the scholar's good fortune, while others marveled that Daoist Lord Xuanyuan was truly efficacious and the Daoist priests possessed boundless divine powers.
The stranger, who had been listening quietly beside them, suddenly smiled and said, "Old sir, you've got this story all wrong."