NABC Chapter 6 - 6 King Wen’s Drum Sounds Loud
Chapter 6 - 6 King Wen’s Drum Sounds Loud
Chapter 6: Chapter 6 King Wen's Drum Sounds Loud
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The rooster crowed, and the world turned bright.
Accompanied by the crowing of roosters in the village, a line appeared between night and day at the horizon. The Yin Qi sank as the Yang Qi rose, and gradually the village was filled with the sounds of people.
"Why are you so lazy, kid?"
"Hurry up and feed the pigs, we'll have to go to the fields later..."
Li Yan hadn't slept all night, guarding the courtyard with a knife in hand, listening to the neighbor's voice scolding their child in the distance, before he gently pushed open the wooden door.
Creak~
The old door latch emitted a teeth-on-edge sound.
Li Yan looked up as he stepped outside, his eyes filled with astonishment.
The plaque hanging above with "Hundred Battle Valor" had lost much of its paint. The corners were visibly decayed, and there was even a crack appearing on the right side.
Li Yan didn't understand the principle behind this treasure's ability to fend off evil, perhaps it had something to do with the court.
But he could see clearly that after one night, the plaque had suffered significant damage, probably unable to last another night.
And that "Blind Old Third" had merely been temporarily forced back.
What should he do?
Just as Li Yan was contemplating a strategy, his grandfather, Li Gui, came out of the room leaning on his cane.
The old man held a large smoking pipe, about to take a few puffs, but upon seeing Li Yan standing outside disheveled and holding a knife, he cursed, "You kid, you practice your blade so much you don't even eat; can't you wear your clothes properly?"
"Don't stand there at the door so early in the morning; you'll scare people. I'll make you some food."
With that, he hobbled towards the kitchen on his two canes.
He was too old to have heard last night's commotion.
Li Yan opened his mouth to stop him, but with no mind to cook, he hurried back inside and put on his clothes.
Farm clothes were often not very particular, mostly made of black coarse cloth, and now that it was getting warmer, they wore only a single layer.
The pants were usually large, lacking any style, hanging straight down, making movement inconvenient if not tied with leggings.
After dressing, he went out the door, hurrying towards the village entrance.
He knew about "Blind Old Third" hanging from the large locust tree at the village entrance but was too lazy to check. Unexpectedly, something happened last night.
Before leaving, he glanced back at the smoke rising outside the kitchen and clenched his fists tightly.
With his grandfather still at home, he couldn't leave.
No matter what that thing was, he had to find a way to resolve it!
At this time, the warm sun had just risen, the yellow earth wheat fields, blue skies, and white clouds—a leisurely rural pastoral scene with people carrying hoes back and forth.
It was a world apart from the weirdness of last night.
"Blind Old Third's" body was hung from the large locust tree at the village entrance, a battered mess from the playful children the previous day. Now, the idle men passing by even jokingly took a swing at it with their hoes.
Li Yan didn't rush closer but sniffed the air from where he was.
He was positioned upwind, just fifty meters away, yet he couldn't detect the unique fishy stench of "Blind Old Third."
It seemed to be nothing more than an ordinary wolf corpse.
Li Yan frowned slightly, approaching to observe, but found nothing unusual.
It was then that a man passed by, exclaiming with a tut-tut, "What a waste! I said we should eat it; it's just going to rot here after a few days."
Surprisingly, the interior wasn't as smelly, though the light was dim, and it was stiflingly hot. The incense-like fishy stench grew more intense.
Li Yan's gaze was immediately drawn to the room's setup.
A square altar table leaned against the wall, holding four plates of steamed buns, three plates of fruits, a roast chicken, lard, and a wine jar.
Three incense sticks were lit in the burner, with dim candlelight on either side.
Behind the offerings stood a wooden plaque with red paper pasted in the center bearing the inscription "Seat of Hu Third Mistress," flanked by a couplet:
Cultivating truth and nurturing nature in the deep mountains,
Emerging from the ancient cave, renown through the Four Seas.
A horseback shaman?
Li Yan froze slightly, as many faded memories surfaced in his mind.
In his past life, besides dealing with various antiques, he had also dabbled in folklore.
This originated from primitive shaman witchcraft, prevalent in the Northeast, where the family immortal and horseback shaman concepts were popular. In the Guanzhong region, it was relatively rare.
Upon contemplation, he recalled Widow Wang had been bought by her husband from a human trader, and someone vaguely mentioned she was indeed from the Northeast.
Yet what captivated him more was what lay before the altar table.
The ground there was stuck with a series of red wooden sticks, encircled by red ropes, where a neatly dressed, clean-looking little girl lay.
She was unconscious, her eyelids fluttering constantly.
More bizarre was that from her head to shoulders and even her arms, areas over some acupoints on her skin were vibrating slightly, like the surface of a drum.
What were they doing here?
Everything before him felt absurd to Li Yan.
But since last night, much of his understanding had been overturned, and he knew that this world wasn't simple; another type of power existed.
Widow Wang didn't explain much to him, merely pulling off a large piece of red cloth draped over a frame beside the altar, revealing a drum underneath.
The drum skin was painted with the Eight Trigrams, with eight strings at the back, four pointing north and four south, adorned with hanging Copper Coins that jingled when picked up.
And the drumstick's handle had colorful red ribbons tied under it.
King Wen's drum, King Wu's whip?
Li Yan's eyes narrowed with interest.
Perhaps this world wasn't just about folklore...
Widow Wang picked up the drum and whip, seeming to transform, shaking her shoulders and head, drumming as she circled the red rope on the ground.
Boom! Boom! Boom-boom!
The drumbeats echoed rhythmically, and Widow Wang's demeanor evolved from timid to solemn, reciting aloud,
"The sun sets over the western hills, darkness falls, every household bolts their doors. Travelers rush to the inns, birds fly into the forests, tigers return to the mountains. Birds find a place to roost, and tigers return safely..."
With the song chant, her accent shifted.
Even in his previous life, Li Yan had witnessed this spectacle.
Everything appeared similar, but his abnormal sense of smell detected differences.
He could sense that, with the drumbeats' vibrations, the air around filled with the incense-laden fishy stench clamored for a home.
As the rhythm pulsed, it continuously converged towards the center...
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