Flowers of the Departed Souls - Chapter 9
Chi Ziming struggled to his feet, finding himself enveloped in mist. The people and the cliffs had all vanished. He stumbled aimlessly, not knowing where he was going, feeling as if he were walking in a dream.
Where was this place? Why was it so barren, so illusory? After an unknown duration, he finally saw a faint glimmer of light in one direction. He swayed towards it, like someone drunk and out of control, his legs moving involuntarily in that direction.
Finally, a path appeared, an extremely desolate one. All the weeds seemed to have withered, lying softly on the ground. Old, decaying grass and newly sprouted wild grass, through countless cycles, seemed to come into being and perish on their own, then on some special day, they would all wither and decay into corpses, carrying a heavy, hellish dampness.
At this moment, the mist gradually thinned and began to dissipate. Following the path, Chi Ziming felt as if no one had walked this road for hundreds, even thousands of years, filling him with confusion and a profound sense of unease.
Then, he saw a U-shaped stone gate, extremely ancient, flanked by stone city walls. He hesitated for a moment, then walked inside. Upon entering, he saw many flowers, many flowers as crimson as roses, yet incredibly large and vibrant. This was the first time he had seen flowers in a long while; he had almost forgotten what flowers looked like. And there were many other kinds of delicate, beautiful, and stunning flowers here—white, blue, purple, yellow—blooming strangely in this utterly desolate place. The sight was truly shocking.
Looking further inside, he saw collapsed ruins, seemingly very ancient buildings. The interiors of the dilapidated, half-toppled walls and scattered wooden beams, though weathered, still faintly revealed patterns of dragons, qilin, eagles, and various flowers. Where was this place? What had happened here? Why had it become a ruin?
He looked back at the vibrant flowers behind and on either side of him. The contrast between these two scenes was immense, making everything seem odd. Because, aside from these flowers, he couldn’t find any other living thing, not even plants other than these flowers. He didn’t even see a few weeds. Could these flowers be fake? Yes, how could such vibrant flowers grow in a place where even weeds couldn’t survive? And they were so incongruous with this ancient, ruined city.
He grew increasingly puzzled. As he approached one flower, shaped like a red rose but much larger, two words suddenly appeared in his mind: Departed Soul Flower. Could these be the Departed Soul Flowers Luo Bozi spoke of? When they surged in large numbers towards the sea, then, someone was bound to die. Why were these flowers so strange? Why did they grow here? Could the flowers appearing by the sea originate from here? Was this place their home or their source?
He slowly leaned closer. He wanted to know why this flower possessed such great magical power that it could take away a person’s soul. But the moment he leaned in, he suddenly saw a black skeleton, and it was a skeleton with eyes. It was blinking at him, its eyes incredibly deep and eerie.
Chi Ziming recoiled sharply. At this moment, he realized that all these flowers had transformed into skulls, and countless eyes were staring at him.
Moreover, what was even more terrifying was that those eyes could actually extend out from the skulls, as if they contained springs, able to stretch out freely. They reached out towards him like demonic claws, with a vicious, hideous expression. For a moment, he was at a loss. Yes, he wanted to die, but he really didn’t want to die in this inexplicable place, whose name he didn’t even know. It felt as if he had entered a world that not only didn’t belong to this realm but was also abandoned by the entire real world. All the malicious flowers bloomed as if enchanted, and all the evil things spread their ugly wings in the same manner. No one had realized that he had actually walked into this world, a world like Pandora’s Box, where many ghosts were imprisoned, a riot of demons. And he was about to become their food.
Just as he was at a loss, ready to resign himself to fate, a figure as vibrant as a flower suddenly appeared, grabbed him, and pulled him away. After he escaped their “demonic claws,” those eyes retracted, and everything returned to the cold and stark beauty of the desolate land.
“You can’t touch them. Each Departed Soul Flower hosts a ghost. They are sacred flowers.”
At this moment, he looked at the woman before him, who possessed an exotic beauty: a high nose, large eyes, and thin lips. But she seemed not to belong to this world or this era, as if she belonged to ancient humanity, or a very distant, unknown village on Earth. Chi Ziming didn’t know why he had such thoughts, but undoubtedly, she was consistent with this strange place, harmoniously integrated with it.
Chi Ziming shook off her hand. “Who are you? What is this place? Why am I here again?”
The woman looked at him and said faintly, “You can call me Ke’er. This is the Realm of Qingxu. You must have read ‘Dream of the Red Chamber,’ right? Although I was born much earlier than the history of that book, it doesn’t mean I don’t know it. Jia Baoyu, when he first met Lin Daiyu, once sleepwalked into the Grand View Garden, or rather, the illusory realm of Great Void. Do you also feel as if you’ve entered the Grand View Garden at this moment?”
Chi Ziming didn’t immediately understand what she meant by “born much earlier than the history of that book,” but he still nodded. “What exactly is this place? Why is it so ancient and strange? There’s no trace of human activity, as if no one has been here for hundreds of years.” As he spoke, he felt a bit of regret. If it truly had been hundreds of years since anyone came here, then what was the woman in front of him?
Ke’er looked at him gently. “Not hundreds, but thousands of years. Do you know Liangzhu?”
“Liangzhu? Is that the ancient city of Liangzhu?”
She nodded.
“It seems to have a history of five thousand years, located in Zhejiang. It’s said to be even older than the Xia, Shang, and Zhou dynasties, considered China’s earliest dynasty, although it hasn’t been officially listed in China’s history yet. I’m not too clear on the rest.”
Ke’er nodded again. “The early climate when humans first appeared was relatively cold. Six or seven thousand years ago, during the Hemudu and Majiabang cultures, temperatures were already higher than today’s. By the late Liangzhu culture, over four thousand years ago, it had exceeded current Southern China temperatures. Global climate warmed, the snowline shifted upward, and high-mountain ice and snow melted into surging water. The Yangtze River overflowed its banks, causing widespread flooding in its middle reaches. All the tribes living in the middle reaches, who worshipped the fire god Zhurong, fled north when the floods struck. As the sea level rose, seawater flowed back into the rivers, turning drinking water into bitter, salty streams. Facing severe natural disasters, the Liangzhu people dug many wells, drawing freshwater from underground to survive. But when the tides surged even more violently, the ground turned into a saltwater world, and people lost their means of survival, shrinking onto high mounds, unable to obtain their daily essential freshwater. Their suffering can be imagined. The ancient legends of floods, such as those described in the Bible, are not false; they truly descended upon the world four thousand years ago. Thus, the thousand-year Liangzhu culture vanished from the Jiangnan region like the Mayan civilization in America, and the Liangzhu people began a mass migration around the time of Emperor Tang Yao. They looked towards the Loess Plateau, which was once an oasis for various Chinese tribes seeking refuge from disaster. Those who left early had smooth journeys to the plateau. Those who left later encountered rampant floods along the way, and could only cut down trees, hollow out their cores, and fashion lightweight bark boats. Each person carried one, and would board the boat when facing large bodies of water. From the southwest to Shaanxi and Gansu, roughly along today’s Longhai Line, so this entire route harbored Liangzhu refugees.”
The more Chi Ziming listened, the more confused he became. “Why are you telling me all this? What does it have to do with me?”
“Don’t you want to know where this is, and who I am? I am a person from the Liangzhu era, an ordinary Liangzhu person. Because of the flood, I am now trapped within this desolate ancient city, for over four thousand years—”
“Hey, wait. Don’t tell me you’re four thousand years old.”
Ke’er did not immediately answer his question but continued, “It is also part of the Liangzhu ruins. After the flood, the land was scarred. Later, due to crustal shifts, it was permanently buried underground, never to see the light of day. I am telling you this in the hope that you can help me, rescue me, and take me away from this place.”
Chi Ziming was half-skeptical. “How can I believe what you’re saying is true? And how can I help you? I don’t even know how to leave this damned place myself.”
“No, you will definitely leave this place. Look, what is this?” Ke’er took something from her wrist and placed it in Chi Ziming’s hand. Chi Ziming opened his hand; it was clearly a jade object. The jade’s shape was a bit strange, very much like an axe without a handle. However, it felt soft and warm to the touch and emitted a strong yet gentle light. Its surface was carved with peculiar beast patterns. It looked as if it truly belonged to that era’s jade artifacts.
“It and this one on my neck are from the same series. Do you know what the most spiritual thing about Liangzhu culture is?”
“Jade artifacts?”
Ke’er nodded. “Indeed, jade artifacts. At that time, they not only symbolized status and position, but more importantly, they were also things with souls. Remember, no matter people or things, everything will change, but you must remember its soul, because only the soul is unchanging. Unless, there are devils who traffic in human souls. So, please remember this jade.”
At this moment, Ke’er’s gaze became frantic and pained, and her expression began to show panic. “Quick, leave! Leave this place! He’s here!”
Who was “he”? He saw a green shadow floating towards them, but before he could see clearly, he was fiercely pushed down by Ke’er. He then realized with terror that Ke’er had pushed him down a ten-thousand-foot cliff…
He abruptly sat up. After a while, he realized he was in bed, and Luo Bozi and Luo Xiaofeng were staring at him steadily. Luo Bozi sighed. “You’re finally awake.”
Only then did Chi Ziming understand that he had just had an incredibly long and strange dream. “What happened, Uncle Luo? I remember we were clearly on the mountain.”
“You, you actually ran into Illusion Cliff. If I hadn’t found you unconscious there in time, you probably would have lost your life by now.”
What? I was in Illusion Cliff the whole time? Chi Ziming recalled the strange place from his dream and the woman named Ke’er, all vivid, as if he had just returned from that place. Did he really just have a dream? But the feeling was so clear.
Luo Xiaofeng stared at his hand. “Brother Chi, why are you holding your hand so tightly?”
He slowly opened his hand. Inside was a piece of jade with peculiar beast patterns.