Chapter Fifteen: The Military Oath

Late on New Year's Eve, in the courtyard house—

After some persuasion, I convinced An Mingshan to leave and told her to go back and think things over carefully. I lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep, so I took out my phone to review some materials on Yi studies. Not long after, I heard a woman’s cry. At first, I thought it was my brother and his fiancée giving in to temptation prematurely, but listening closely, it wasn’t that. It sounded more like a cry for help—An Mingshan’s cry for help.

I hurried to her room. The door wasn’t locked, so I pushed it open and saw a man pinning her down on the bed, with ill intent. I rushed over, yanked him up, slapped him hard across the face, and shouted, “You beast!”

I was about to take him to the police station, but unexpectedly, the bastard was surprisingly strong. He broke free and ran. Around then, my brother and Song Linlin, perhaps alerted by the commotion, arrived. Seeing An Mingshan sitting on the bed, disheveled and crying, and me standing before her, Song Linlin suddenly pieced things together and spat, “You filthy pervert! Hypocrite! Scoundrel!” Then she slapped me hard across the face.

I shot back, “Damn it! Who did I offend? I was just about to catch that bastard and give him a good thrashing to vent!” With that, I dashed outside.

From behind, I heard Song Linlin yell, “If you can’t catch the culprit, don’t come back!” I was speechless...

I chased out of the yard, but then the question arose: where had he gone? Our area covers hundreds of square miles—not a small place—so where could I possibly find him? And I hadn’t even gotten a good look at his face, making it even harder. I sat on an old stone mill and started calculating.

More than ten minutes later—

I pinpointed it: that bastard had fled north, about thirty miles from here. I rushed back to the courtyard house. My many aunts and cousins were gathered, murmuring amongst themselves. When I entered, everyone looked at me with suspicion, as if I were the culprit. I said, “I found the culprit.” Then I hurried to my room, grabbed my ID, phone, and, to Song Linlin’s surprise, a pair of handcuffs! I left the courtyard and headed north.

Following my calculations, I reached the northern outskirts, which had transformed into a graveyard—a perfect, pristine burial ground for the dead. I hesitated, wanting to turn back, but recalling the military order I had been forced to pledge, I steeled myself and pressed on. I wandered the graveyard like a headless fly, searching here and there but finding nothing. The only sign of life was a few stray dogs digging through the graves for food.

As I was aimlessly wandering, suddenly the dogs scattered in panic, running frantically in all directions. I looked back and saw a military truck approaching me. It stopped not far away, and three men jumped out swiftly, each holding a gun. They jogged up to me, and one smoothly produced an ID.

“Hello, we are from the Folklore Affairs Council. We have already apprehended the person you’re looking for. Please come with us.”

I showed my own ID. “Li Shucheng, Bureau of the Supernatural.” The ID was one I had made years ago to conceal my identity; my title was listed as an ordinary investigator. I concealed my real rank deliberately, wanting to keep a trump card and see how they would act next. What they said next shocked me.

“Who in the council doesn’t know your name? Back in the day, your eloquence and extraordinary strategy were legendary here. Truly worthy of your teacher—you’re just like her.”

I breathed a sigh of relief and composed myself. “It’s nothing. She was one of my teachers. As the saying goes, the pupil surpasses the master. Of course, I’m just like her, maybe even better. Enough pleasantries—let’s go.”

“Please,” he said.

I nodded and got on the truck.

Inside, I saw two elderly men and a young man about my age, all handcuffed and hooded, guarded by five soldiers sitting in the back. The windows around me were blacked out, so I could only see inside the vehicle; outside was invisible. The interior was lit by a bright overhead lamp. Bored, I resumed reviewing my materials.

Readers, a quick quiz:

Q: Author, do you always keep your promises?

A: Yes, because it is my principle and a fundamental code of conduct. But it depends on the matter; you can’t agree to everything, nor fulfill every promise blindly. One should act within one’s limits. I always keep my promises, but I don’t promise lightly.