Chapter 56: The Two Taoists
"Professor Guan... Professor Ma has disappeared!"
...
Before Miao Hui’s body was discovered, someone already knew he was dead. That person was Ma Yu, who had been working overnight to restore the mural. Just as dawn broke and he was preparing to return to his room to rest, he saw the corpse lying behind the house with its skull shattered.
Ma Yu was seized with panic.
“Miao Hui fell from upstairs and died.”
“How could he have died like that! Now Professor Guan will definitely suspend the archaeology course.”
“No, we can’t leave. No one is allowed to leave Old Grave Village until we find the Jade of Wishes.”
“I must stop them from leaving. Yes, without a car, they won’t be able to go.”
Hiding in the laboratory, Ma Yu’s expression grew increasingly twisted.
He took a hammer from his toolbox, donned a raincoat, and slipped out of the building while the others were still asleep.
But as he reached the minibus and was about to pull out the hammer, a head popped out from the vehicle.
Zhou Jun greeted him with a genial smile. “Professor Ma, you’re up early too!”
Ma Yu was so startled by the sudden voice that he nearly threw the hammer away. Luckily, Zhou Jun spoke up in time, and Ma Yu’s intentions weren’t exposed.
Suppressing his panic, he forced a scholarly smile.
“Ah, Old Zhou, you’re here. I couldn’t sleep, so I came out for a walk.”
“You professors carry too much stress,” Zhou Jun replied, inviting him, “Come aboard, have a seat, and enjoy a cigarette!”
“Alright.”
Ma Yu boarded the vehicle, squinting as he watched Zhou Jun hand him a cigarette from the driver’s seat.
His hand beneath the raincoat caressed the hammer at his waist.
He couldn’t sabotage the car now, but he had come up with an even bolder plan.
Bang!
...
Cradling the bundled raincoat, he returned to his room. Before he could deal with it, cries of alarm echoed from the hall.
Someone had finally discovered Miao Hui’s body.
The shock rippled through the group.
Soon, the entire archaeological team gathered in the hall, and someone was calling his name.
Ma Yu shoved the dripping raincoat and hammer under his bed, changed into pajamas, and feigned sleep.
He fooled Guan Xingbang and the other students on the team.
Just as he secretly breathed a sigh of relief—
“Professor Ma, did you go out just now?”
---
Ma Yu spun around abruptly. The speaker was Bai Xian.
Her gaze searched the room, quickly landing on the corner of the raincoat peeking out from under the bed.
This girl had been silent throughout the journey, barely interacting with him, and Ma Yu had almost forgotten her altogether.
Bai Xian’s words sent a tremor through his heart, but he managed to maintain his composure.
“No, I spent the whole night restoring the mural. I only slept after five this morning. Wu Hao can attest to that.”
Wu Hao nodded, resolving Ma Yu’s immediate predicament.
But he was certain that Bai Xian was already suspicious.
This girl exuded an air of mystery. She looked barely into her teens, yet every time her eyes met his, he felt a chill.
He couldn’t delay any longer. He had to restore the mural, find the Jade of Wishes buried with the dead, and then…
Finally.
After a night’s effort, the mural was fully restored.
Bold strokes depicted the funeral of a feudal lord.
Countless people prostrated themselves, bidding farewell to the great noble as he was laid to rest. Beneath the king’s corpse, a round white jade was painted.
The Jade of Wishes lay at the bottom of the coffin!
...
“Professor Guan... Professor Ma has disappeared!”
Last night, everyone slept in the hall, except Ma Yu, who stayed in the temporary laboratory under the pretext of restoring the mural.
The lab was adjacent to the hall, so no one expected anything to happen. But early in the morning, Meng Dejun and Gu Xiaowei rushed to report Ma Yu’s disappearance to Guan Xingbang.
Guan trembled at the news, nearly fainting.
Repeated blows had left the once robust old man barely able to endure.
The group flocked into the laboratory.
Sure enough, the place was empty, with no trace of Ma Yu.
This time, Guan Xingbang could no longer hold on. His legs gave out, and he collapsed.
Meng Dejun and Gu Xiaohan, the only two members of the archaeological team still able to move, hurried forward to support him.
Bai Xian entered the room, her gaze sweeping over it and finally settling on the restored mural.
In the painting, countless people formed a circle, bowing to the corpse.
At last, the corpse and a round jade stone were buried together in the coffin.
But—
Those bowing “people” were noticeably smaller than the corpse.
A professional would naturally assume this was a technique to highlight the central figure, common in ancient art. Whether nobles or emperors, they were always depicted larger than their attendants to emphasize status.
But Bai Xian was no expert, and knew nothing of ancient painting.
To her eyes, the proportions were badly distorted.
---
Those kneeling “people” looked nothing like humans; instead, she was reminded of another creature.
Monkeys!
Could it be that the so-called “subjects” of this feudal kingdom were actually a horde of monkeys?
“Bai... Bai, sister.”
Gu Xiaohan’s voice sounded in her ear, interrupting her thoughts.
She turned to the three and declared,
“I know where Ma Yu is.”
...
The weather forecast promised a crisp, sunny autumn day.
But Old Grave Village was shrouded in a vast shadow.
Ten kilometers outside the village, on a mountain road, a black SUV was parked by the roadside.
Inside sat two men in suits.
Unlike the torrential rain in Old Grave Village, the SUV stood in bright sunlight, as if the world had changed within ten meters.
At a certain moment,
A plume of yellow dust sped toward them from the distance.
Another black SUV of the same model appeared.
“They’re here.”
The two men got out.
The second vehicle soon stopped.
Two men in suits alighted, followed by two Daoist priests in the second row.
One was elderly, bearded; the other, youthful and fair. One wore a purple robe, the other a black one. One carried a whisk, the other a long sword. The only similarity: both wore the Tai Chi knot.
These two had no ordinary backgrounds.
The black robe was worn by members of the Combat Division in Daoism—equivalent to warrior monks in Buddhism, tasked with guarding the sacred gates.
The purple robe signified a rank just below the Grandmaster—an advanced mage. (The term “mage” originated in Buddhism, later adopted by Daoism.)
Most importantly, both hailed from the Celestial Masters’ Cave of Mount Qingcheng, one of Daoism’s two poles.
The Celestial Masters’ sect was more widely known as the Orthodox Dao.
Any malevolent force wishing to stir trouble in Sichuan had to consult them first.
Seeing the purple robe, the waiting Special Investigation Division members exchanged glances, each seeing solemnity in the other’s eyes.
How dire must the situation be to summon someone of this status?
“Greetings, Master Zhang, Daoist Zhang.”
Zhang Yulin smiled as he greeted the two, and the black-robed priest cupped his hands in return.