Chapter Five: The Art of Turtle Breathing

I struggled but couldn’t break free, so I had no choice but to follow them back to the village.

As we passed the Wax Path entrance, I noticed the bodies of Yellow-Eyes Rake and Uncle Mingda were gone, likely swept away into the Yellow River.

Jiu’er stood by the chaotic riverbank, bent down, pinched the fly droppings on the ground, her brows knitted tightly.

Tong Tianwang quickly handed her the strange iron tube. “Master Jiu, take a look at this. The man who used it is called Yellow-Eyes Rake, not a villager. The old village chief called him in a few days ago, but I don’t know which sect he belongs to. And that Mingda from the village—he’s probably a ‘stooge’ too! But both of them died in the belly of the Golden Leopard Frog.”

Then, Tong Tianwang recounted everything that had happened in the village over the past few days to Jiu’er, leaving nothing out.

I added that Uncle Mingda seemed to call Yellow-Eyes Rake his master.

Jiu’er examined the iron tube carefully, then said with a cold face, “This iron tube is a tool of our trade, carried by all from different sects. Judging from the strange carvings inside, Yellow-Eyes Rake and Mingda must be from the Western Mule Sect, who are notorious for their vile trick of using infants to fish for treasures!”

Tong Tianwang asked why Jiu’er called it ‘infant fishing for treasures.’

As we hurried home, Jiu’er explained, “Infant fishing for treasures means smearing fly droppings on an infant and using the child to attract hidden treasures from heaven and earth—a cruel and perverse method scorned by our peers. Yellow-Eyes Rake and Mingda, just like Xie Diebing, were moles from the Western Mule Sect, hiding in the village in search of treasures.”

After Xie Diebing made his move, Yellow-Eyes Rake must have feared we, the Lingnan Treasure Suppressors, might snatch the treasure, so he resorted to this extreme method to lure out the Golden Leopard Frog. But there was probably a rift between master and apprentice, so Mingda deliberately saved you—not wanting his master to succeed, hoping instead to profit from the chaos.

A chill ran down my spine as I listened. “Jiu’er, but Ping’s wife killed her own child first.”

Jiu’er glanced back at me, smiled, and flicked my nose with her small hand. “Silly, that child was certainly not her own.”

Lingnan Treasure Suppressors, Western Mule Sect—these terms were too much for my young mind, a flood of information I could hardly digest.

When we reached my house, we found the door wide open.

Tong Tianwang had clearly shut it when we fled earlier. Had the villagers ransacked my home?

As soon as we entered, we found someone inside. He wore a black cloak, a mask covering his face—the mask bright crimson, resembling the ritual masks villagers wore at year’s end, sinister and frightening, with only two dark eye holes.

The moment we crossed the threshold, the window banged open, and the black figure leaped through and escaped.

Jiu’er ordered us to stay put, then twisted her body and dashed out the window after him.

Her silhouette was stunningly graceful.

Watching Jiu’er’s martial prowess, no less than the heroes on TV, I grew worried for Tong Tianwang. “Uncle, you should run! You killed my parents, and Jiu’er is too powerful… she’ll kill you.”

Tong Tianwang, rummaging through the ransacked house, turned to me. “Brat, what nonsense are you spouting? I didn’t kill your parents!”

I said, “My parents lit candles in the house, and you snuffed them out. Now they can’t come back. If you didn’t kill them, then was it ghosts?”

Tong Tianwang looked exasperated. “What do you know? Your grandpa and your parents were the best ‘stooges’ in the Lingnan Treasure Suppressors. If the paper boat capsized and the candles went out, it just means they drowned in the river or got lost in the mountains. Even if they died, the bodies could be found. But now, not even a trace of their boat or tools can be found. Someone clearly sabotaged them. But don’t worry—Master Jiu is a formidable figure in the Lingnan Treasure Suppressors. She’ll avenge your grandpa and your parents.”

“What are the Lingnan Treasure Suppressors?”

“The southern ‘earth moles’!”

“And the Western Mule Sect?”

“The western ‘earth moles’!”

So, ‘earth mole’ wasn’t just an insult—it was also a profession. My grandfather and parents had been ‘stooges’ in this line of work.

But I didn’t care about any of that. All I wanted to know was how they died. “Was it Yellow-Eyes Rake and Uncle Mingda who killed them?”

Tong Tianwang rolled his eyes and said he didn’t know.

I helped him search the house, but after a while, my nose suddenly felt blocked, as if something had crawled in. My head throbbed sharply, and I froze for a few seconds. Then, with a strong snort, a tiny black bug—no bigger than my pinky—flew out of my nostril, buzzed around me twice, and then disappeared.

Tong Tianwang asked what happened.

I said I felt fine, not sure what it was.

Not long after, Jiu’er returned. Her expression said she hadn’t caught the intruder. Shaking her head, she told us, “He got away. But I checked Mingda’s house—his parents fled in the night. They were definitely from the Western Mule Sect. Let’s rest for tonight and talk tomorrow.”

I was too filthy to sleep, so I went to the side room to wash up and changed into clean clothes.

Back in my room, Tong Tianwang was snoring like thunder.

So I went to find Jiu’er.

I found her curled up in an old wicker chair, hugging her knees, head buried between her legs, her small body like a cat. I’d never seen anyone sleep this way. I called her name softly, but she didn’t respond or move. When I reached out to check her breathing—there was none!

“Jiu’er is dead!” I cried out in terror.

Tong Tianwang rushed over.

I ran to him, pointing at Jiu’er. “Someone killed her!”

But Jiu’er lifted her head and looked at me helplessly. “Xiaopi, what nonsense are you spouting? I was practicing turtle breathing!”

Turtle breathing?

What in the world!

Jiu’er was truly mysterious.

Tong Tianwang hauled me, still full of questions, back to my room.

The next morning, I woke to the sound of a commotion outside. A crowd of strong villagers had gathered at the door, all armed with shovels and hoes. Tong Tianwang was arguing with them, while Jiu’er stood coldly to the side, arms folded.

The old village chief’s eyes were red, his voice hoarse. “Xie family’s uncle, you dare come back alive? Xie Diebing angered the River Grandfather at the Wax Path. He possessed Ping’s wife, murdered our children—how will you answer for this? Unless Xiaopi is drowned in the Yellow River, River Grandfather won’t let us be!”

Clearly, the old chief had no idea that Yellow-Eyes Rake and Uncle Mingda were moles from the Western Mule Sect, or that it was they who harmed the village children. He blamed everything on my grandfather and parents for angering River Grandfather.

“Chief, enough talk! Tie them up first!” Junjun’s father shouted, eyes bloodshot.

“Yes, Chief, you must get justice for our Junjun…” his mother wailed, collapsing to the ground in grief.

I didn’t see Leilei’s parents. Leilei must have been unharmed.

Tong Tianwang said, “Old sir, my relatives didn’t hurt anyone—it was Mingda and his wife, those black-hearted ones! We’re back to avenge the village!”

But years of deep-rooted reverence and superstition for River Grandfather meant no one listened. Several uncles couldn’t bear it any longer, grabbing their weapons and charging at us.

Tong Tianwang, alarmed, grabbed a stick and shielded Jiu’er and me.

But how could he match those men?

He was quickly knocked to the ground, unable to move.

Just as they were about to seize me, Jiu’er took action. With effortless grace, she flicked her small hands, sending the weapons flying from their hands and knocking the men to the ground, clutching their arms and howling—they must have been dislocated.

“This little witch has sorcery—kill her first!”

Seeing this, the villagers grew even angrier and surged forward.

Jiu’er shielded me behind her, grabbed a stick, and with a few swift moves, sent several more tumbling.

Now, everyone was stunned, too shocked to move.

They could never have imagined a thirteen- or fourteen-year-old girl could possess such skill.

In that moment, my heart filled with utter awe and dependence on Jiu’er.

“Uncles, elders, I am Xiaopi’s sister. I guarantee you, within three days, I’ll find the real culprit. River Grandfather will not trouble the village again! If you don’t believe me, I’ll stay with Xiaopi in the village. If anything else happens in three days, you may punish us as you see fit!” Jiu’er declared loudly.

“Jiu’er… I don’t want to stay here…” I whimpered.

“Shut up!” Jiu’er shot me a glare.

Her bold move stunned everyone, but the villagers were not yet appeased. The old chief, unmoved, eyes red, said, “Why should I trust a little girl like you?” Then he urged the crowd to seize us again.

“Wait!” Jiu’er stepped back two paces, then suddenly turned to the old chief and said, “Isn’t your son near death? I can save him! If you doubt my skill, you may see for yourselves first!”

The old chief was startled, his expression changing instantly.