Chapter 442: You Are The Light, I Am The Dark (1/2)

Song Heting explained that the Song family had been ill-fated since the Southern Song Dynasty. Thus, an ancestor who was well versed in the philosophy of change came up with such a way to divide the Song family. The two clans had the exact same genealogical records so each clan played shadow to the other.

It was of practical significance to do so, much like the Double Dragon Formation in military tactics. The two families could help each other, and in the event of a catastrophe, certain members of the family could escape disaster. During the Ming Dynasty, Assistant Minister of Justice, Song Tiemian, was framed by traitors which implicated all his relatives. The civil Song clan almost entirely collapsed and only made a comeback with the help of the martial Songs...

There was another interesting fact about the two clans–in order to preserve the continuity of the Song family, the two clans always stood on opposite sides in the times of great historical changes! For example, during the War of Liberation, the head of civil Songs was chief of staff within the People's Liberation Army, while the martial Songs joined the Kuomintang. With the help of the civil Songs, the martial Songs launched the Changsha Uprising and managed to prevail through turbulent times without a hitch.

Song Heting sighed, ”As the saying goes, those stubborn and rigid are easy to break. We have a large number of talented people in the Song family and it is inevitable for us to attract great attention. In order to survive through troubled times, our ancestors came up with this strategy, which is why the three elders have ordered me to stop you from dealing with the Jiangbei Daggers. Not so much for anything but for the big picture, for the entire Song family!”

”Aunt Song, I’m not being obstinate for no reason. The organization has been lawless for...”

”Let's not talk about this now,” Song Heting held out her hand. “Solving the case at hand is more important!”

After looking through the genealogical records, she said, ”Let's head over to the hill to have a look,” she cried.

With that, the four of us went up the hill once more. The ashes of the joss paper burned by Granny Yan last night still remained in front of the grave. Looking around, Song Heting declared, ”This grave belongs to my brother.”

”When did your brother die?” I asked in surprise.

“Eight years ago, he was killed by an enemy,” replied Song Heting. “It can’t be him!”

Upon further reflection, I realized only Granny Yan knew who the victim’s identity was since the bones had been switched. Thus, I decided a visit was in order.

”Be polite when speaking to her,” advised Song Heting. “Although Granny Yan is an outsider who moved into the village, she is the current village shaman and her status befits the title. Don't use the Eyes of Yama on her.”

Song Jie whispered, ”This woman is also a widow. She’s now dedicated to serving Granny Yan. Everyone says she’ll be the next shaman after Granny Yan passes.”

”Ooh, can they tell?” I laughed. “Maybe you’re the one?”

”Go away! How dare you curse me! The shaman must be a widow. It has been like this since the first shaman in the Southern Song Dynasty and that has never changed.”

Aware of my mistake, I apologized with a small voice.

A while later, the middle-aged woman invited us in. The room was dark and lit with sandalwood. Mysterious items, amulets, spices and paper men hung on the walls. Granny Yan sat on a mat, holding a string of prayer beads in her hand with incense burning before her.

I was about to open my mouth to speak when Granny Yan suddenly stretched out her claw-like hand, grabbed mine and squeezed hard. The pain almost made me tear up. It turned out that she was feeling for my bones.

With her eyes closed, she said, ”Both dragon and tiger lay in your palm. You have the fortune of one in a million but the fires burn strong and you will face three calamities. However, heaven helps the worthy. Looks like Heting has found a good son-in-law!”

”Granny Yan, you’ve made a mistake. I’m also a member of the Song family and Song Heting is my aunt,” I awkwardly explained.

Granny Yan opened her eyes and looked at me. ”What can I do for you?”

I stopped talking and glanced at the woman standing behind me. ”Cui Huan, leave us,” waved Granny Yan.

”A man died in the village five years ago,” I went straight to the point.

”People die every year,” came Granny Yan’s deadpan reply.