Chens Village was located to the south of Eight Miles River, in a place called Ant Hill, within the jurisdiction of Yingshang County.
Like many other villages far from the county town in Great Ming, Chens Village was relatively isolated and backward; on ordinary days, the highest administrative official in the village was the village chief, followed by a group of older, well-reputed elders.
When something happened in the village, it was usually up to the village chief and these "elders" to discuss countermeasures. The conclusions they reached were the final directives and would not be changed.
Of course, in such villages, nothing major usually happened...
Speaking of wealth, the richest families in Chens Village, when compared to the wealthy of the city, were merely farming households, and perhaps not even as well-off as the itinerant traders who passed by; speaking of beauties, in these remote rural areas, the village girls had faced wind and sun from a young age and had to work the fields, so they had no chance to receive any kind of cultural education. As a result, they generally did not grow up to be particularly attractive in appearance or demeanor.
In such a place, unless you happened to be near a bandit stronghold, even robbers and womanizers wouldn't go out of their way to pay a visit.
Therefore, life in the village was relatively peaceful.
That is until one day in the seventeenth year of Yong Tai...
That day, thunderstorms raged from daytime until night, not letting up at all.
In such cursed weather, whether it be farming, chopping wood, or hunting, nothing could be done, and naturally, the villagers also retired early.
In this way, the next morning when the rain stopped, many households discovered... their children were gone.
In this mountain village, children might be mischievous, but they did not stay out late at night. Furthermore, with last night's heavy rain and darkness outside, it was unlikely the little ones had run off on their own.
What could be done? Everyone joined in the search.
But even with the whole village searching the surrounding area for most of the day, not a trace was found.
As darkness approached again, the adults became frantic.
Firstly, the missing children numbered as many as nine, all boys—in those days, to speak of preferring sons to daughters was putting it mildly; more bluntly, many families, especially the poor, did not even consider daughters as human... Not a few sold their daughters to wealthy families as maids or even into brothels when times were tough, and those who thought about finding a good family for their daughters were already considered conscientious. But boys were a different story, valued as treasures by their families no matter how clumsy or wicked they might be.
Secondly, among those missing nine boys, three were the descendants of the elders, and another was the village chief's great-grandson—these were the village's "nobility." If they were gone, wouldn't that be a big deal?
Thirdly, the situation was very strange; there were many other families in the village who hadn't lost children and were also in fear, worried that they might wake up the next morning and find their own children gone.
That night, a terrible atmosphere spread through the village...
The village chief was even considering sending someone to the county the next day to make a trip to the government office, spend some silver, and request that authorities come to investigate.
So, it came to the next morning, when people at the entrance of the village started shouting, saying "A calamity has struck! There's a demon!"
Upon hearing this, the villagers swarmed over, abuzz with discussion; by the time the village chief arrived, nearly all the men, women, and children of the village had gathered...
The crowd parted to let the village chief through to the front. On closer inspection, he couldn't help but gasp: embedded slantwise into the earth at the entrance to the village was half a post as thick as the mouth of a bowl.
Looking more closely, this was not just an ordinary post—it was a ship's mast.
Of course, a piece thicker than a bowl's mouth wouldn't be the mainmast, but to most people, it seemed beyond human strength to drive such an object into the ground.
"Look, Chief, there's writing on it!" Before long, someone helpfully pointed out to the village chief.
The chief had already noticed. Indeed, there were characters carved into the wood, and as the man with the most literacy in the village, it was his duty to take a look...
"Water Realm God descends upon the mountain, the villagers not pay heed to the westerly wind. If you wish for the nine sons to return home, bring offerings to Dragon King Cave north of the village." The village chief read out the characters and, furrowing his brow in thought for a moment, roughly understood the meaning.
Then, he translated for the villagers: It meant that in the past few days, a Dragon Lord had come to the foot of Ant Hill, and the previous day's heavy rain was a sign of the Dragon Lord's arrival. However, because we villagers had been too thoughtless and did not properly welcome the Dragon Lord, he became angry. That is why nine children were lost in the village. Now, the Dragon Lord says that as long as we bring offerings to the "Dragon King Cave" to the north of the village, the children will be able to return.
From a modern perspective, these words were essentially a kidnapper's declaration; the core message was to pay a ransom for release.
But to these villagers, this sort of bandit logic made sense.
They thought that anyone who could silently abduct nine children on a stormy night and then drive a ship's mast into the ground must certainly not be human...
The less knowledge and ability people have, the more they like to use a set of theories they can more easily understand to explain the unknown doubts before them, to eliminate their fears.
Seeking the truth means facing difficulties and dangers, but following the herd is very simple; everyone says this, everyone does that, and so I simply follow their words and actions; even if it's wrong, we are wrong together.
Thus, the villagers hastily gathered, chickens, ducks, fish, rice, flour, money, grain—they scrounged together several baskets' worth, made noise with gongs and drums, and carried the offerings to the cave to the north.
The cave was deep, connected to an underground river, with numerous branching paths and complicated terrain. The locals knew better than to enter, as it was easy to get lost and not find one's way back; originally, this cave had no name, but now that the "Dragon Lord" had deemed it Dragon King Cave, that's what the villagers called it.
By noon, they had set up a simple altar in front of Dragon King Cave, lit incense, and neatly arranged the "offerings" at the entrance. Then, led by the village chief, the villagers knelt three times and kowtowed nine times. After a lengthy period of worship, they respectfully left.
And it actually worked—the next morning, when they returned here, they found the missing nine children lying under the offering table, though the offerings from the previous day were gone...
Now the villagers were even more convinced that the Dragon Lord had manifested himself—those kidnappers had kept their word.
Later, a few similar incidents occurred in the village, all following a similar pattern, which I won't recount here; the children who were taken by the Dragon Lord and then returned were generally very young, their speech not clear, and when adults asked them what they had seen, they couldn't explain.
Over time, the villagers of Chens Village were well trained by this "Dragon Lord." Now, he no longer had to engage in the business of kidnapping; the villagers themselves knew to bring a batch of "offerings" on every first and fifteenth day of the lunar month. They no longer had to bring silver; rice, flour, wine, and meat would do.
Actually, at this point, dear readers, you must have realized that this group pretending to be the Dragon King wasn't all that smart. Their excuse was quite far-fetched, but they had no choice... After all, girls and children are different. Girls might run away, and if they saw something and started to talk upon return, the ruse of the "Dragon King Cave" would be exposed.
This way, it made perfect sense for villagers to bring the girls over as night fell. In the darkness, the girls couldn't see clearly, and they couldn't run far if they tried. As soon as the villagers left, the kidnappers would emerge to take the people away, and the captives couldn't escape.
In short, this farce had continued for over a year to date.
The villagers of Chens Village were also very good at comforting themselves, much like some followers of religion: whenever something good happened in their lives, they would say it was the blessing of the Dragon Lord, asserting that the offerings were indeed worth it. But whenever something unfortunate occurred, they felt it was because their hearts weren't sincere enough, so the next offering had to be more bountiful.
Until... that evening, when two people arrived at the entrance of the village...
...
After Sun Yixie and Huang Donglai entered Chens Village, they casually found a tea stall to sit down at and immediately began to inquire about the scene they had seen at the entrance of the village.
The villagers didn't hide anything because, in their minds, the Dragon Lord had become a part of their faith; there was nothing they felt they couldn't discuss. Thus, the waiter and the tea-drinking patrons all added their bits to the story, repeating the content mentioned earlier.
After listening, Brother Sun and Brother Huang, these two modern people who had crossed over, could guess the first reaction in their minds—that must definitely be humans in disguise, right? It was nothing but kidnapping and extortion.
However, they didn't say anything in front of the villagers, because from observing and listening, they could tell that the villagers were already suffering from Stockholm syndrome. If you dared to speak ill of their "Dragon Lord" in front of them, they might even turn hostile.
At this time, it was also getting dark, so the two hurried to find a household to stay with.
After entering the room, Sun Yixie gave the locals some silver, asking them not to disturb them. Then, closing the door, they began to discuss with Huang Donglai...
"Brother Sun, do we get involved?" Huang Donglai immediately asked.
Sun Yixie, in tune with him, naturally understood what he was asking, "Of course, we get involved~" He said this with a cocksure grin, glancing at his trident, "We even dealt with that blatant ruckus at Zouma Village, why should we be afraid of this group playing at specters and spirits?" He paused and then added, "Besides, haven't I improved since then? With my power, is it not as easy as slicing cucumbers to kill a few bandits?"
"Okay, Brother Sun, that'll do," Huang Donglai said, "I admit, you've made some progress, but don't start believing the illusion that you're 'very capable,' okay? If you end up being chased and hacked at, won't I still need to cover your retreat?"
"Just shut up~" Sun Yixie raised his voice, "When have I ever been chased and hacked at? Tell me, are you chickening out?"
"Me? Chicken out? You're not, so why would I," said Huang Donglai, "I just want you to be cautious, so you don't carelessly get injured again."
"Of course, I'll still be cautious," Sun Yixie replied with a raised eyebrow, "I'm intelligent, you know?"
"Oh?" Huang Donglai read something from his expression, his smile lifting slightly, "Does that mean... Brother Sun, you've got a plan?"
"Hehe..." Sun Yixie gave a sly smirk, "Just listen as I explain slowly..."