No matter what the conclusion was, there was something wrong with this village.
After confirming this, Jiang Yan maintained her original walking pace, eyes fixed on Wang Baomin’s back.
Shen Huanhuan was still mulling over the matter of the ginseng. Cheng Guang glanced around at the scenery, while Xiong An’s mind was preoccupied with the cause of the silkworm cocoons’ deaths. Thus, along the way, no one spoke; the atmosphere was eerily quiet.
When they reached the silkworm house, someone finally broke the silence.
“Teacher, I’m so sleepy right now. Can I take a rest?”
There were two wooden chairs outside the silkworm house, both unoccupied. Shen Huanhuan pointed at a chair, “I’m used to napping after lunch, I’ll just sit over there for a bit.”
“So much trouble.” Wang Baomin’s tone was unfriendly.
Shen Huanhuan rubbed her eyes, as if too tired to even catch what was being said.
She didn’t look again at Wang Baomin’s face, just yawned and slowly headed out of the silkworm house. As she passed Jiang Yan, she bumped Jiang Yan’s shoulder as if unsteady on her feet. Jiang Yan steadied her, and after watching her leave, closed the door of the silkworm house.
Jiang Yan withdrew her gaze and lazily said, “Let’s go, weren’t there other places where you haven’t checked the feed?”
Once at their destination, there was another round of teacher-student discussion—starting with Cheng Guang constantly asking questions to reinforce his struggling-student persona, ending with Xiong An’s steady answers firmly cementing his expert role.
With no conclusion in sight, Wang Baomin’s face grew increasingly sour. Jiang Yan, amused, joined in on the questioning.
“What about the water?” she asked. “Could there be a problem with the water?”
Xiong An shook his head. “Silkworms get their water from the leaves; they don’t need separate drinking water.”
Jiang Yan: “Then what about irrigation water? The water used on the leaves.”
Xiong An was momentarily at a loss.
If the irrigation water were problematic, then it would likely affect the leaves as well. But there could be rare circumstances—perhaps something in the irrigation water harmless to the leaves but harmful to silkworms that indirectly obtain water.
Xiong An recalled the creek by the fields he’d seen that morning and wanted to check it out.
Wang Baomin stopped him. “Where are you going?”
Xiong An explained, “Didn’t we say this morning that the creek water is used to irrigate the fields? I want to take a look at the creek.”
Wang Baomin didn’t understand. “The creek? We drink that water ourselves—how could silkworms not be able to?”
“It’s not the same! Maybe the water is the problem—it’s a bold hypothesis and needs cautious testing.” With that, Xiong An stood up and signalled for Wang Baomin to walk with him toward the creek.
After following the group for a few steps, Jiang Yan slowed down and finally stopped. Taking advantage of their distraction, she turned and went back to the silkworm house.
The door was still shut tight. Jiang Yan pulled it open and, at that moment, saw Shen Huanhuan coming quickly this way.
“Looking for ginseng?” Jiang Yan asked.
“Yeah,” because she was worried about revealing her identity, Shen Huanhuan had moved quickly, and now sweat beaded on her forehead. She wiped it away and said, “Didn’t find any trace of the ginseng spirit.”
Jiang Yan stepped aside, and Shen Huanhuan entered the silkworm house.
Shen Huanhuan pulled out a talisman paper from her clothes. Clearly, it had been used—the cinnabar on its surface was very faded. “Master once mentioned that ginseng over a hundred years old, with spiritual energy gathered, must improve the quality of the local soil. Even if dug up, there should be lingering spiritual energy in the earth, but this talisman didn’t pick up anything special.”
Shen Huanhuan frowned, her words filled with self-doubt. “Maybe I’m just not skilled enough and didn’t use the talisman properly. But this talisman is from Master, and the incantation is simple—it shouldn’t have gone wrong….”
Since there was no sign of the ginseng spirit, there was no use obsessing over it here. Besides, this wasn’t a good place to talk at length. So Jiang Yan said nothing and turned back into the silkworm house.
Shen Huanhuan sighed, walking beside Jiang Yan.
The silkworm house was neatly organized: dead cocoons and dying silkworms placed in the inner section, active ones in the outer. Because they’d been led by Wang Baomin and the silkworm keeper, the group had always been checking the inner section for silkworms.
Jiang Yan went to the section with active cocoons. This place was meticulously cleaned, almost dust-free, clearly tended to every day.
There were not many live cocoons left; compared to the small mountain of dead ones, the living were less than a tenth of the dead.
Jiang Yan picked up a cocoon. Shen Huanhuan, for now setting aside the ginseng spirit matter since clues were more important, leaned over and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, just thinking—so many have died, these few surviving ones are quite impressive.”
As Jiang Yan spoke, she pried open the spindle-shaped cocoon.
Shen Huanhuan stared: “?”
Jiang Yan: “It doesn’t fit in.”
Shen Huanhuan: “Huh?”
Jiang Yan: “All the other silkworms died—only these are left alive. Clearly, the problem is with them.”
Shen Huanhuan wanted to say that didn’t make sense, but seeing Jiang Yan’s raised lips, she understood it as a joke. Shen Huanhuan, with a strong moral baseline, felt uncomfortable damaging someone else’s property and averted her gaze.
But moments later, Jiang Yan called her.
“Shen Huanhuan.”
Shen Huanhuan responded softly, “What?”
“Tell me, what does this silkworm pupa look like?”
“Mm?” Shen Huanhuan, feeling guilty, glanced around before following Jiang Yan’s gaze. The cocoon had already been opened by Jiang Yan, and a pupa, smaller than a thumb, was squirming in her palm.
She had always felt that a cocoon dangling by silk in midair looked like a person hanging upside down, and now, these pupae seemed the same—except the string suspending them had broken, the white burial shroud had parted, exposing the worm struggling inside.
Shen Huanhuan startled herself with her imagination and swallowed, but after a few breaths, forced herself to examine the pupa—a light brown silkworm pupa twisted in a distorted fashion; aside from being unsettling, it didn’t look like anything else.
“Doesn’t look like anything,” she said.
“It clearly looks like a person with their limbs chopped off,” Jiang Yan lifted the pupa, facing Shen Huanhuan, “Haven’t you seen someone like this?”
Jiang Yan’s tone was so earnest—as if not having seen such people was incorrect, as though limb loss was commonplace. Shen Huanhuan opened her mouth, hesitated, and replied, “No.”
The person before her continued: “It’s a person—look, it even has a face.”
Shen Huanhuan: “…What?”
Jiang Yan poked a spot. “Here are the eyes.”
Then another spot: “Mouth.”
“Look, there’s even a mole on the chin.”
Shen Huanhuan’s back tingled. She bent down to look more closely, but before she could spot the mole, soft laughter sounded in her ear—a damp, feather-light breath brushed her nape, suddenly making her think of a snake’s tongue licking her neck.
Shen Huanhuan froze, goosebumps rising everywhere. She jerked her head up, only to see Jiang Yan stow her smile, stuff the pupa back into the halved cocoon, then tuck it into her pocket. “Just kidding.”
Shen Huanhuan calmed herself, nerves slowly relaxing. “Quit it, you really freaked me out.”
Jiang Yan watched her, still smiling.
Shen Huanhuan gave Jiang Yan a gentle push, “Let’s go find the others.”
“Mm.”
*
When the two arrived at the creek, Xiong An was tasting some creek water.
But such things couldn’t possibly be detected by ordinary taste; even with decades of silkworm-raising experience, Xiong An had no way to determine if it affected the silkworms.
“How about we report it to the authorities?” he suggested. “Maybe we need a specialist…”
But before he could finish, Wang Baomin cut him off, “No need!”
Xiong An’s words stopped cold.
Everyone looked at Wang Baomin. Cheng Guang asked in confusion, “Why not?”
Wang Baomin’s expression was impatient. “There can’t be anything wrong with the water. We’ve been using it for irrigation for years, drinking it ourselves, and never had problems with the silkworms.”
“It’s just not possible it’s the water,” Wang Baomin looked at Xiong An. “Think of another reason for the silkworm deaths!”
Jiang Yan raised her brow. “No problem for humans doesn’t mean plants and bugs can drink it.”
Cheng Guang agreed. “Exactly! What if it is the water? We should still report it and have them test the quality.”
Wang Baomin stuck to his line. “No need—it’s not the water, and we don’t need anyone else here!”
After this, seeing the group hesitate to answer, Wang Baomin moderated his tone and added, “Didn’t I say it? The village doesn’t like outsiders. The chief already angered enough people by bringing you here, so just focus on other causes.”
Shen Xiaoxiao: “But why don’t villagers like outsiders? Aunt Guilan treats us very well.”
Wang Baomin snorted coldly, “That’s just my sister’s kind heart. The village used to suffer at the hands of outsiders. Not many kind folks left here.”
An awkward silence fell. Xiong An filled a bottle with creek water, and Wang Baomin watched him do it, making no move to stop him.
After bottling the water, Xiong An thought up some other reasons and called for Wang Baomin to come look.
The production crew had already briefed Xiong An; his job this episode was to play the expert and do his best to solve the silkworm issue, giving the psychics a chance to investigate supernatural events.
He sent the others off: “Too hot out—will you guys get me a palm fan, and pick up some dead silkworms from the silkworm house? We might need them later.” Then he took his tools and set off alone for the back hill. Wang Baomin hesitated a moment before following him.
With the group split, Zhao Chong, still thinking about the ginseng, first headed for the lush part of the back hill, while Cheng Guang thought it over and followed.
So only Jiang Yan and the twin sisters were left.
Shen Huanhuan: “Xiaoxiao, go check on Xiong An. He’s with Wang Baomin—just in case.”
Most of the protective talismans from Master were with Shen Xiaoxiao, more than enough for one person. She responded and hurried off.
Shen Huanhuan watched her leave, then turned to Jiang Yan. “Let’s look for clues too.”
Jiang Yan glanced around, looking at the small hut beside the silkworm house. “We didn’t see that silkworm-keeper this afternoon. Must be resting inside?”
“Probably—it’s siesta time,” Shen Huanhuan said, then suddenly sighed.
Jiang Yan turned. “What’s wrong?”
Shen Huanhuan spoke softly, “I feel like Wang Baomin’s hiding something.”
Jiang Yan raised her brow.
“It’s just…” Shen Huanhuan mused, “Isn’t it weird he won’t let the expert test the water? Even if villagers dislike outsiders, what if the water’s actually contaminated? Also, Wang Baomin seems to avoid the creek…”
Jiang Yan nodded. “I think so too.”
“So let’s ask.”
Shen Huanhuan was puzzled, “Ask who?” According to Wang Baomin, villagers probably wouldn’t tell them anything.
“Whoever’s easy to trick, obviously.”
Jiang Yan took the lead for the small hut. Soon, she was outside the window beside the silkworm house.
The hut was very simple—aside from the heated brick bed and a wooden table, there was nothing else.
The silkworm-keeper was asleep on the brick bed. A chubby little boy lay beside, drawing with a pencil.
Shen Huanhuan, seeing inside as well, immediately lowered her voice, “How…”
Before she could finish, Jiang Yan quietly pushed open the window a crack.
Shen Huanhuan quickly fell silent.
Squeak—
The sound was soft, but still startled the little boy. He swiftly looked over toward the window.
Jiang Yan pressed her index finger to her lips.
The boy obviously froze, but a few seconds later, his expression turned visibly resentful—he still remembered being embarrassed by her that morning.
He asked in a low growl, “What do you want?!”
“I’ve come to apologize,” Jiang Yan said.
Mouthing her words, her eyes were especially sincere: “Now I think your brother is better looking.”