Chapter 5: The Five Scrolls Manuscript

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“Momo! Momo…”

Back at the bottom of the dry well, Cheng Xiangru, without bothering to light a candle, called out loudly for his sister in the darkness.

But all that answered him was an echo, ringing painfully in his ears.

His heart pounded wildly, his breathing ragged; he didn’t care that the mysterious shadow he had seen might still be nearby, even threatening his life.

Groping blindly, he found the hanging rope, grasped it firmly, placed his feet against the well wall, and climbed upward with all his strength. Ignoring the pain of his palms being scraped raw, he climbed as fast as he could and finally reached the well’s mouth.

Outside, the night wind howled, biting cold and sharp; the bare trees swayed, and clouds obscured the stars and moon.

By the dry well, Cheng Yimo curled up on the ground, motionless.

Cheng Xiangru gritted his teeth and forced himself to climb over the well’s edge. He took out a wooden box from his chest pocket, tossed it aside, then rushed over to Cheng Yimo, shouting as he tried to shake her.

“Hmm…”

Cheng Yimo fluttered her eyelashes open, yawning. Seeing Cheng Xiangru clearly, she suddenly sat upright.

“You… you… what happened to you?” Cheng Xiangru panted, anxious and stammering.

Cheng Yimo scratched her head, puzzled. “I don’t know. When I saw you go down, I was so worried. Then, I suddenly felt very sleepy, and before I knew it, I fell asleep.”

It was easy to imagine how tense and scared the little girl was, seeing her brother crawl into the dry well.

Yet, under such extreme stress, she suddenly became so drowsy?

Impossible.

“Before you fell asleep, did you see anyone strange, or anything unusual happen?” Cheng Xiangru asked urgently.

Cheng Yimo shook her head, then thought for a moment, softly said, “No. It’s just… I think I smelled something fragrant, very fragrant.”

In that instant, Cheng Xiangru remembered the crumpled paper that had suddenly appeared on the bus, with the words “Watch your back” written on it.

Sweat broke out all over him, a chill running through his body, making him shiver uncontrollably.

The clouds above were scattered by the wind, revealing moonlight and stars like countless greedy eyes surrounding the siblings by the dry well, illuminating Cheng Xiangru’s pale face.

In the distance, a dog from some household in the village barked wildly, sounding like a ghost’s sinister laughter tearing apart the moonlight and plunging the night into deeper darkness.

Cheng Xiangru slowly stood up, glanced back at the dry well, then walked over and picked up two fist-sized stones, hurling them forcefully into the well.

If the mysterious shadow was still inside, it would surely be hit!

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But from the dull sounds coming from within the well, Cheng Xiangru regretfully confirmed that the shadow had fled before he climbed out.

Still uneasy, he went inside, dragged out a broken table, and covered the well’s opening with it, piling heavy objects on top.

Cheng Yimo watched beside him, confused. “Brother, what are you doing?”

“Nothing. I found a lot of things Dad hid down there. I’m afraid someone might steal them, so I have to seal the well.”

“Things Dad hid?”

Leaning wearily against the doorframe, Cheng Xiangru nodded. “Yeah, some dirty stuff.”

At that moment, he suddenly remembered the wooden box he had brought and rushed back to the well to retrieve it.

The already badly damaged wooden box cracked open at the clasp when Cheng Xiangru accidentally dropped it.

No need to break the lock now; a firm twist was enough to open it.

Back inside, he lit a candle and washed his hands with water.

His palms were raw and bleeding from the rough rope.

But that pain was nothing compared to the torment he endured growing up under Yang Hu and his gang.

This home was a wreck—pots broken, bed collapsed.

But it didn’t matter. Just one more night, and tomorrow they would leave for Rong City to start anew.

Thinking of this, the kindly smiling face of Boss Zhou appeared in Cheng Xiangru’s mind.

Suddenly, a shiver ran through him, cold from head to toe.

From the mysterious paper to the ransacked house, the shadow in the well, and his sister’s strange fainting—all had happened after meeting Boss Zhou.

Could it be that Boss Zhou was involved?

Cheng Xiangru grew wary. He had once trusted Zhou implicitly, even considered telling him the secret beneath the dry well. But now, he felt the need to be cautious, to keep some secrets to protect himself and his sister.

Boss Zhou had generously given them five thousand yuan, treated them to meals, and promised to look after them. But was it truly out of friendship with Cheng Zhifeng, or was it because of the antiques hidden beneath the well?

Uncertain, Cheng Xiangru resolved to stay alert—it could never hurt.

After securing the doors and windows, the siblings gathered around the candlelight and pried open the wooden box. Inside were old, worn books.

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The book covers were severely worn, corners curled, and the pages yellowed with age, yet the text inside remained remarkably intact.

These books were old, written in vertical traditional Chinese characters, not literary nor colloquial, all handwritten with brush and ink. They were somewhat difficult to read, but not incomprehensible.

Cheng Xiangru counted five volumes, each thin, only about twenty or thirty pages.

Except for one with a damaged cover, the titles of the other four were clear: The Feng Shui Volume, The Mechanism Volume, The Exorcism Volume, and The Body Refinement Volume.

He casually picked up The Mechanism Volume and flipped through it, reading phrases like “Rowed plank bridge with connected boards,” “Mechanism crossbow to sever chains.” It seemed less about constructing mechanisms and more about how to dismantle them.

He set it down and opened The Feng Shui Volume. It contained lines such as “Two bows bowing at Emperor’s Mountain, three generals guarding the Hibernating Dragon Ravine; hiding wind and gathering water leads to the heavenly path, eight-sided broken walls bury the mountain peak.”

Cheng Xiangru pondered these lines deeply, his brow furrowing more and more.

This so-called Feng Shui Volume didn’t resemble traditional Feng Shui teachings, but rather a set of secret instructions for locating ancient tombs.

Further inside were not only text but illustrations—a hand-drawn compass densely filled with tiny characters, dazzling to the eyes.

“Brother, what’s written in these books?” Cheng Yimo blinked her wide eyes, clearly confused.

“Nothing important!”

Snapping back to reality, Cheng Xiangru hastily closed the books, packed them carefully into a plastic bag, and hid it close to his body.

“It’s late, you should go to sleep,” he urged, spreading the tattered quilt thickly on the floor.

Brother, I’m scared. I can’t sleep,” Cheng Yimo said timidly.

Despite her words, she didn’t resist long and soon fell asleep clutching her brother’s arm.

No matter if the world ended, as long as the little girl was beside her brother, she felt safe.

Though exhausted, Cheng Xiangru felt an indescribable, powerful draw toward those five volumes. After his sister fell asleep, he couldn’t help but keep reading.

Unknowingly, he read until dawn. If not for his sister waking, he might have continued even longer.

The whole morning, they packed their belongings.

Though the house was empty, they managed to gather several bags, mostly books and some tattered clothes, worthless but too precious to discard.

Near noon, Cheng Xiangru heard shouting outside.

Thinking Boss Zhou had come for them, he went to open the door. But through the plastic-covered window hole, he saw that it was actually Yang Hu, the village bully, and his gang approaching.