Chapter 6: Do Not Cross the Gate of the Grand Mansion
He had stayed awake all night and finally dozed off when dawn began to break. Yang Xiao had set an alarm in advance and had the front desk clerk remind him when it was time.
Frankly, his sleep wasn’t very restful. Yang Xiao had the misfortune of dreaming about that woman again. In his dream, he was standing in the bathroom washing his face. Facing the mirror and just as he bent down, through the reflection, he suddenly saw a disheveled woman standing behind him, holding a knife in her hand.
After waking up startled, he realized it was already 9 a.m. He put on his backpack, stepped out, had a quick breakfast, and then headed for the train station.
After waiting for over an hour at the station and watching people come and go, Yang Xiao’s anxiety eased quite a bit. Fengmen didn’t have a train station, so Yang Xiao needed to get off at the closest one and then take a shuttle bus to the town.
Due to rain in the mountains two days before, the roads were a bit muddy, which slowed the shuttle bus. When he finally arrived, it was already 3 p.m. The gasoline fumes inside the old-fashioned shuttle bus made his head swell. He remembered only taking such a bus when he was very young.
Walking in the town, the desolation was striking. Old storefronts just had their doors open, some so empty you couldn’t even see a person inside, and their signs carried a sense of the past.
Contrary to Yang Xiao’s expectations, there were almost no tourists. Occasionally, he would see one or two old people selling vegetables on small stools in the alleys.
Following the phone’s navigation, Yang Xiao found the former location of Jinfeng Flour Factory No. 2; there were no signs, and presumably, they had been removed long ago.
Uncertain of the situation and not daring to enter rashly, Yang Xiao walked slowly along the perimeter fence, observing as he went.
The post was right about one thing; the factory was in an excellent location near the town center. Yet, except for some low buildings long since abandoned and wide stretches of wasteland, it was desolate—a clear sign that something was off.
Besides, Yang Xiao noticed another issue. The factory’s exterior wall was very high and seemed to have been built at different times. Some damaged parts showed clear repair marks, although those repairs also dated back decades.
After making a full circuit, with the sun beginning to set, Yang Xiao knew he couldn’t wait any longer. Who knew what might happen tonight? He found a shorter section in the wall, piled some stones to step on, took a running start, and climbed up.
After observing for a few seconds and seeing no issues, he jumped down inside. Not far ahead was a factory building with charred marks on its walls, signs of a past fire.
Approaching, Yang Xiao found almost nothing left inside the factory—it seemed to have been cleared out. Holes where machinery had been installed were visible on the floor, and some rusted metal frames that were unrecognizable lay in a corner.
He continued further inwards where a paved stone path began to appear, along with some dilapidated brick walls built with large green-tinted stones.
After checking, Yang Xiao finally understood: the flour mill had been constructed on the site of an old-fashioned mansion. The builders had even demolished most of the mansion to build the factory.
Involuntarily, Yang Xiao thought of the Feng Family Mansion mentioned in the script. If his guess was right, this had to be the place.
Between two factory buildings at the corner, there was a stone well enclosed by rubble. The well itself seemed small, capped by a large stone.
Yang Xiao looked at it a few times and quickly sensed something was amiss. This well might carry stories; the large stone capping the well was evidently sculpted simply, resembling a human head with a broad skull, pronounced forehead, wide face, narrow eyes, and long eyebrows—distinctive features of a Bodhisattva figure.
Yang Xiao took out his phone and was about to get a closer look at the well when suddenly, a stern shout from behind intercepted him.
"Who’s there?!"
About a dozen meters behind him, a middle-aged man came walking briskly towards him. The man was sturdy, with leopard eyes, a goatee, dressed in a security uniform, and a baton at his waist. He looked rather fierce. "I’m asking you! Who are you and what are you doing here?"
𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦
Seeing the phone in Yang Xiao’s hand, the man grew even more furious. "You’re here to shoot those videos, aren’t you? Young and reckless, don’t want to live? Obsessed with getting famous?"
Yang Xiao realized the man had mistaken him for one of those Supernatural Explorer Bloggers. "Don’t worry, I’m just looking around," he said.
Yang Xiao took out a Red Ticket from his pocket, smiling as he approached the security guard, "Big Brother An, please, let’s be reasonable. I’ll just shoot a few pictures and leave."
"Nonsense!" The guard glared with wide eyes, not biting the bait at all. "Leave, now! Or I’ll call the cops!"
Left with no choice, Yang Xiao had to leave. He hadn’t expected there to be security guards here. Departing from the factory, he wandered through the town as it began getting darker. The factory was no longer an option, so he decided to inquire around town.
On his way back, he opened his phone to check the forum again, but unfortunately, the person who had made the post still hadn’t replied.
Gradually, a light rain began to drift down from the sky, and Yang Xiao quickened his pace, finding fewer and fewer pedestrians on the road. Most towns nestled in the mountains had fallen into disuse this way, with the young people flocking to the big cities in search of work, leaving behind only the elderly who couldn’t bear to part with their homeland, and some children who were inconvenient to take along.
Turning a corner, Yang Xiao saw an elderly man taking shelter from the rain under the eaves, with several bundles of vegetables laid out before him.
The man’s hair was almost entirely white, and deep wrinkles were etched across his face, wearing an old ethnic-style garment that suggested he had lived in the town for a long time.
Yang Xiao jogged through the rain to stand under the eaves with the man, who had a profound gaze that pierced through the vicissitudes of life with a clarity that seemed unique to the mountain folk.
"Elder?"
In response to Yang Xiao’s greeting, the old man just fluttered his eyelids and then gently shook his head, as though he had no interest in worldly affairs.
"Elder, are you selling these vegetables?"
"Selling!" The old man suddenly turned his head, looking at Yang Xiao with softened eyes, "Three yuan per bundle, pick whichever you want."
"I’ll take all of your vegetables, but could you also tell me about the Jinfeng Flour Factory No. 2? Was there a mansion there before?" Yang Xiao got straight to the point.
Upon hearing the words ’Jinfeng Flour Factory No. 2,’ the old man’s expression grew odd, as if he were wary, but all that disappeared in an instant when Yang Xiao pulled out a 20-yuan bill. The elder, speaking in a heavy local accent, rambled on for over ten minutes, unfortunately only rehashing vague stories that weren’t as detailed as the information he had found online.
Fortunately, one thing was confirmed: the location of the factory indeed used to be a mansion, but that mansion had long since fallen into ruin, irrelevant to the establishment of the factory.
With no new insights, Yang Xiao prepared to leave. The old man, now in good spirits after receiving the money, lit himself a dry cigarette, sat cross-legged on the ground, and began smacking his lips, "What’s going on here, lately all you city folk come snooping around about the factory?"
At these words, Yang Xiao paused, somewhat surprised, "Others have been asking recently too?"
"Just this very afternoon," the old man said, clacking his yellowed old cigarette holder and lifting his chin, "After asking, they headed straight toward the factory."
"But the factory is guarded, and outsiders aren’t allowed in."
After hearing Yang Xiao’s words, the old man smirked, "Don’t talk nonsense, boy. That factory hasn’t been looked after for decades. Us people from the mountains steer clear of it, guards? How could there possibly be guards?"
Yang Xiao felt a buzz in his head, "No guards? Are you sure?"
The old man shook his head, giving the impression that he was no longer interested in talking. After a moment, Yang Xiao had also begun to realize something wasn’t right—the guard surely didn’t behave normally, and the local people had a strong accent, but that guard had none.
"Elder, what did the person who asked about the flour factory look like?" Yang Xiao directly pulled out a Red Ticket from his pocket.
The old man’s casual gaze instantly focused as he snatched the Red Ticket, "Hmm... Let me think, I remember! A man with a beard, flat face, leopard eyes, a ferocious look about him, you can tell he’s not a good guy just by the way he looks at people."
"Fuck..."
Yang Xiao took a deep breath, the man described by the old man was the same fake guard he had encountered in the old factory. Him rushing over at this point in time was probably no coincidence. Yang Xiao suspected that the man may have run into something similar to what he had encountered and evidently had much more experience, "Elder, did that man say anything else?"
"Hmm... I think he did, but my mind is a bit foggy right now..." The old man rubbed the back of his head, feigning a struggle to remember.
Yang Xiao pulled out another Red Ticket, shaking it slightly, "No rush, take your time."
"Oh oh oh, I remember now!" The old man said, suddenly reenergized, "That fellow asked if there were any old sayings or customs passed down in the town."
"How did you respond?"
"I told him I didn’t know about any old sayings, but there’s a rhyme that’s been passed down for years in our mountains." The old man recalled word for word, "First-born daughters not to leave home, second sons at the knee shall stay, those with meager fortunes and shallow fates shall not cross the threshold of deep mansions and grand estates."