Chapter Thirty-Three: A Familiar Encounter

Liu Zichen led Shen Mingyue around the village several times, mainly engaging in idle chatter with the elderly men and women. This was her forte—making herself at home anywhere. In rural villages, old women loved to gossip, and Liu Zichen could get along with anyone; a few simple greetings were enough to whet their appetite for conversation, and soon they were all talking over each other about the strange happenings in Li Village. At first, the hot topic was the recent untimely deaths of the Li brothers, with everyone intentionally shrouding the discussion in mystery. Gradually, these seasoned elders, as if recalling their own experiences, drifted into tales of people who had met retribution for their past misdeeds.

Sensing the moment was right, Liu Zichen carefully brought up the death of the Li family's fourth son, Li Qiuyuan. Unexpectedly, the lively group of elderly women instantly fell silent. The atmosphere turned awkward, something Liu Zichen hadn't anticipated, and she regretted her haste.

Just as Liu Zichen was about to say something to break the tension, an old woman leaned in and whispered, "Girl, don't ask about that. It's a cursed matter." She paused. "No one in Li Village dares mention it."

Shen Mingyue couldn't help but ask, "You make it sound so mysterious. Is it more cursed than the Wuxing Heaven's Wrath?"

"That's different. None of us have ever seen the Heaven's Wrath—who knows if that's real or not. But this thing happened decades ago; it's definitely true."

Shen Mingyue pressed, "Then why don't you tell us about it?"

This time, Liu Zichen didn't stop Shen Mingyue from digging deeper. After all, this was why they had come. Better to be direct than to skirt around the issue.

One of the old women seemed about to say something, but the old men shook their heads vigorously, and she fell silent, disappointed.

Women might not keep small secrets, but great ones—they hold tight.

Suddenly, an old woman in the crowd piped up, "Hey, look closely. Doesn't this young girl resemble... someone?" The others stared at Liu Zichen, nodding in agreement. "Indeed, she does."

Liu Zichen was puzzled. "Who do I look like?"

No one answered; their faces showed a complex mix of surprise and fear.

At last, an old man muttered, "Girl, if you really want to know, you should ask the shaman woman. She knows best."

"Who is this shaman woman?" Shen Mingyue asked, impatient with riddles.

"Just ask around and you’ll find out. Everyone in Li Village knows the shaman—she’s a bit crazy." But no one would say exactly who she was.

Shen Mingyue wanted to press further, but Liu Zichen tugged at her sleeve, signaling her to be patient.

The two chatted a bit longer with the group, then took their leave.

As soon as they were out of sight, the elders resumed their lively gossip, gesturing and clearly still discussing Liu Zichen’s appearance, unconcerned now that she was gone.

But Liu Zichen had no time for their gossip; her priority was to find this all-knowing shaman woman.

She already had a strong suspicion of who it was.

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After asking Li Qihuai at home, Liu Zichen’s guess was confirmed.

On their first day in Li Village, they had met the owner of the small roadside shop—she was the shaman woman. Now the peculiar, memorable look in her eyes made sense; it was a symptom of epilepsy.

Without delay, Liu Zichen hurried down to the shop by the mountain road. She didn’t want to miss her chance.

Fortunately, the shop was open and the owner was present.

Seeing the shaman woman alive and well, Liu Zichen felt relieved. For a murderer, killing such a frail, powerless old woman would be effortless. She wondered, if the murderer really was connected to the death of Li Qiuyuan, how had this “all-knowing” shopkeeper survived so long?

Keeping calm, Liu Zichen bought some soy sauce, vinegar, and a small bag of salt, pretending to rest her feet while she lingered.

Unexpectedly, the shopkeeper came over and took Liu Zichen’s hand. “Child, you’re only buying this much? Is it enough? It’s not easy to come all this way.”

Liu Zichen, quick-witted as ever, paused only briefly before replying, “Auntie, do you recognize me?”

The shopkeeper smiled warmly. “Of course, child. Every time you come to my little shop, I know you’re just helping an old woman out. I’m not confused.” She stroked Liu Zichen’s hand with grandmotherly affection.

“Then, shopkeeper, what’s my sister’s name?” Shen Mingyue seized the opportunity.

Liu Zichen shot her a look of approval and waited eagerly for the answer.

The shopkeeper turned to Shen Mingyue, puzzled. “Who’s this girl? I don’t recognize her. Why is the fourth son’s wife so fierce?”

Both Liu Zichen and Shen Mingyue were taken aback.

“Uh, she’s Li Qihuai’s daughter. This is her first time here. Please forgive her, Auntie,” Liu Zichen said, trying to glean more information—was “the fourth son” really Li family’s fourth son, or someone else?

The shopkeeper laughed, patting Liu Zichen’s hand. “You’re teasing me. How could Li Qihuai’s daughter look like this? Big and clumsy, rough as anything.”

“Auntie, I just wanted to see if your memory is still sharp,” Liu Zichen replied, studying the woman’s clear, bright eyes—she didn’t seem to have any mental illness.

It’s said that those who are truly deranged have dull, unfocused eyes.

“This is actually my cousin from the city,” she said cleverly.

“I thought so! She’s just as fresh and pretty as you when you first came from the city. My eyes aren’t failing me,” the shopkeeper replied, then suddenly remembered something.

“Why do you call your second uncle by name? No respect at all,” she scolded. “Of all the Li brothers, only your second uncle treats you best. You must never forget that.”

Liu Zichen nodded quickly. “I know, I know. It’s only because he’s so good to me that I dare call him by name. I wouldn’t dare with anyone else, right?”

“Still, that’s not proper.”

“I’ll change, I promise,” Liu Zichen said, humoring her.

Shen Mingyue quickly jumped in. “But you still haven’t guessed my sister’s name. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten. Try to remember!”

“City folks’ names are hard to remember. What’s your name again?” The shopkeeper looked at Shen Mingyue, trying to recall. “Oh, you’re Li Yi, Qihuai’s youngest daughter, always so loud and brash.”

So they were back where they started!

Liu Zichen and Shen Mingyue exchanged glances—what a mess. The villagers had been right; this woman’s mind was indeed muddled. Liu Zichen hesitated. Should she keep questioning? Could the woman really know anything?

Her instincts told her that while the old woman had forgotten most things, she remembered “the fourth son’s wife” with unusual clarity. It was worth a try.

Before she could speak, the shopkeeper muttered, “Oh, I nearly forgot, child—wait here.”

She walked back to the counter, fumbled around, and pulled out a ring of keys. She headed straight for a wooden door in the middle of the house, unlocked the brass padlock, and ducked inside.

Shen Mingyue peeked inside—the room was packed with boxes, and a bed could be seen amidst the clutter. It seemed to serve as both storeroom and bedroom.

Ten minutes passed with no sign of the shopkeeper. Liu Zichen grew concerned and went to the door, calling softly, “Auntie? Auntie…”

No answer. Worried, Liu Zichen called a few more times. Shen Mingyue whispered, “You don’t think she’s pretending to be confused and slipped out the back, do you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Liu Zichen scolded. “That’s unlikely.”

Suddenly, a weak voice sounded from above. “Girls—” It startled them both.

“I’m here…” The shopkeeper poked her head down from the rafters. “You really have a sharp tongue; this is my own house—where would I go?”

Shen Mingyue wished she could sink into the ground; she’d underestimated the old woman, whose hearing was sharp as ever. She covered her embarrassment by pretending to fuss with her hair. Thankfully, the shopkeeper didn’t pursue the matter, withdrawing her head and soon reappearing at the door.

“There’s a little loft up there. I’m so forgetful, I put important things in a locked box so I wouldn’t lose them.” The shopkeeper held a piece of brightly colored cloth. “It’s been so long, I almost couldn’t find it.”

She handed it to Liu Zichen, who took it with some confusion. The cloth was soft and smooth—excellent quality.

“I remember you told me you’d never worked as a seamstress in the city, so you asked me to make this for you. I spent days and nights sewing, but you never came back to fetch it… How many days has it been, tell me?” the shopkeeper complained gently.

“Thank you, Auntie—I’ve been so busy, I just forgot,” Liu Zichen replied, playing along.

The shopkeeper huffed, “It’s one thing to forget other matters, but this was for a child—how could you be so careless? You city folks have never tasted real hardship.”

A chill ran through Liu Zichen. So it was a custom-made baby swaddling cloth, lovingly kept all these years. She gently unfolded the bright red fabric. Embroidered on it was a regal peony, flanked by two lines of words in silk thread:

“Boundless blessings and longevity; a harmonious family brings peace to the world.”

Suppressing her shock, Liu Zichen noticed a tiny "Qiu" character stitched into the heart of the peony—likely the name of “the fourth son’s wife.”

Why had Li Qiuyuan’s wife commissioned such a special swaddling? In this remote countryside, most folk would use old cotton cloth for baby wraps, believing it softer for a newborn’s delicate skin, while new fabric and dyes might irritate. What made this different? Was it for a child just conceived, or was she afraid she wouldn’t have time later?

The craftsmanship and design gave the cloth a sense of ceremony, almost as if Liu Zichen could sense the intention behind it, as though she could feel “the fourth son’s wife’s” special care across time.

If she was right, this piece had been kept for at least a decade or two, yet was still as vivid as new.

“Thank you, Auntie. I’ll keep it safe,” Liu Zichen said, handing the cloth to Shen Mingyue to tuck into her bag.

The shopkeeper nodded. “Exactly. With your figure, you must have already had the baby. Take this home—it’s been here long enough.”

Before she finished, an elderly man in his sixties or seventies entered—tall and thin, with a stern expression. He glanced at Liu Zichen and Shen Mingyue, his gaze icy. He carried a half-full burlap sack and a hoe, walked straight to the backyard, dropped his things, and returned.

“Crazy old woman, what are you chattering about now?” He was clearly the boss of the house.

The shopkeeper smiled. “The fourth son’s wife is here, so I’m just chatting with her.”

“You must be under some spell! Wanqiu’s been dead for years, and you’re still going on about her! And look at this girl—she’s barely grown up.” The old man seemed sane enough, frowning at his wife’s nonsense.

“Don’t talk nonsense…” the shopkeeper muttered, “Can’t you see Wanqiu is standing right here?”

So, Liu Zichen thought, the wife’s name indeed contained the character Qiu. The shaman woman was right; this swaddling must have belonged to the fourth son’s wife.

The old man shouted, “You’re making a fool of yourself! Go make dinner—I’m starving!”

Clearly intimidated, the shopkeeper said no more. She squeezed Liu Zichen’s hand gently before retreating to the kitchen.

“How pitiful,” Shen Mingyue whispered, looking at the deep wrinkles and sparse white hair that marked the passage of years.

The old man shot her a cold look. “You finished shopping?”

Liu Zichen nodded. “We’ve got everything.”

“Then be off, be off. Don’t come here again without good reason.”

“Is this any way to treat customers?” Shen Mingyue protested, but Liu Zichen pulled her away before she could say more.

As they walked away, Shen Mingyue fumed, “What a difference between the two! That old man acted like we owed them money.”

“That’s their family business; it’s not for us to judge,” Liu Zichen replied. “We’d better report this to Tianyu as soon as possible.”

“But we didn’t get a chance to ask about the Li family’s fourth son before that old man interrupted.”

“I know,” Liu Zichen said, a little disappointed. “But we were lucky to learn as much as we did. Next time, we’ll try again. For now, let’s see what the others have found.”