Chapter 6: The Appearance of the Spirit Spring

Mother Zhang handed the keychain to Zhang Wangwan, "I’m going to fetch water. You open the house first, then go to the side and fold the gold and silver paper. Don't get in the way here."

Zhang Wangwan: "..."

Because of Mother Zhang's request, Zhang Wangwan pinched her nose and resigned herself to opening the doors. There were eight rooms in total, all locked. She simply tried them one by one and opened every single door.

Mother Zhang carried a bucket of water over. Just as she had finished scrubbing the stone stool with a dry, tattered rag, she discovered the foolish thing Zhang Wangwan had done. She laughed and scolded, "I told you to open the main hall and the kitchen, why did you go and open the bedroom doors? If you’ve got nothing better to do, get to work! Don't waste time!"

Zhang Wangwan, who had been looking at the room she lived in as a child with a sense of novelty, was shouted at by Mother Zhang and had to run back to the courtyard to work. She didn't know where Mother Zhang had dug up two or three dust-covered baskets, so Zhang Wangwan sat on the washed stone stool and resignedly began folding the gold and silver paper.

Sounds of wood knocking came from the house. Mother Zhang’s figure moved in and out. Before Zhang Wangwan had even finished folding one basket, Mother Zhang had already set up the offerings for the ancestors. She lit the incense and immediately called Zhang Wangwan over to pay her respects. Zhang Wangwan looked at her hands, which were covered in silver dust, but didn't bother to wash them and ran straight in, bowing respectfully three times to the ancestors of the Zhang family. Mother Zhang took the incense from Zhang Wangwan, bowed a few more times, and muttered something under her breath.

Zhang Wangwan went back out to continue working. Once Mother Zhang finished praying, she tossed two coins; they landed one heads and one tails, so she immediately went to burn the gold and silver paper.

Zhang Wangwan also breathed a sigh of relief. The gold and silver paper they had bought wouldn't even fit in these three large baskets; if she really had to fold all of them, it would probably be dark by the time she finished.

The place for burning the paper was right outside the ancestral room. Thick smoke billowed, and waves of heat rolled over them. Mother Zhang told Zhang Wangwan to stand further away, but Zhang Wangwan wanted to help, so she gripped the basket tightly and kept moving closer. She didn't know if it was because she was too nervous, but it wasn't until the paper had finished burning that she realized her finger had been cut by the sharp edge of the basket.

Mother Zhang looked at her hand and frowned, "I'll go to the village shop to buy a Band-Aid. You go wash your hands."

With that, Mother Zhang turned, opened the door, and ran off.

Zhang Wangwan frowned slightly and obediently washed her hands. Thinking that Mother Zhang wouldn't be back that quickly, she decided to run into the room to rummage around. In her memory, her grandfather always kept adhesive tape; back in the day, when people in the village got hurt, they would just use tape to patch it up—nobody used things like Band-Aids.

No one had entered this room for many years. The dust inside was so thick that the original color of the furniture was no longer visible. The familiar canopy bed was empty, with nothing but the bed boards. Beside it was an old-fashioned table; from its style, one could tell it was from the Republic of China era. Zhang Wangwan casually pulled out the top drawer and found that there were still some things inside, though most were things her grandfather had used during his lifetime—nothing valuable, and no one had bothered to clear them out.

To find the tape without wanting to stir up more dust, Zhang Wangwan had to pull the entire drawer out. There were four drawers in the table, and the bottom part consisted of two cabinet doors, usually for larger items. Tape certainly wouldn't be in there, so Zhang Wangwan didn't even bother opening them, focusing only on the four drawers.

"Huh? What is this?"

The antique drawer contained only a few small items. What surprised Zhang Wangwan was that the innermost side of one of the drawers was carved with a landscape painting that looked incredibly lifelike. The spring water trickling through the mountain stream seemed alive, leaving Zhang Wangwan stunned. She blinked hard and looked again, realizing it wasn't her eyes playing tricks on her—the painting was truly eerie. Looking closely, she could see that the wood used for the carving was different from the rest, as if it had been specially glued on.

Zhang Wangwan curiously reached out, wanting to brush off the dust, when a dazzling light flashed. She recoiled in fright and looked at the painting again. This time, the lifelike feeling was gone; it looked just like an ordinary landscape painting carved into the drawer.

"That’s hellish!" Zhang Wangwan muttered. She suddenly felt a chill in the room, so she quickly put everything back in its place. She hadn't found the tape and had only ended up with a handful of dust. Looking at her still-bleeding finger, she felt like crying. As she left, she made sure to lock her grandfather's room.

Not long after, Mother Zhang returned. When she entered, she had a transparent plastic bag in her hand, which clearly contained two packs of instant noodles and two duck eggs.

"Mom, did the shop have Band-Aids?" Zhang Wangwan waved her hand in front of Mother Zhang.

Mother Zhang gasped and scolded irritably, "I told you to go wash your hands! Did you go digging for coal? You're so old now and still so troublesome!"

Zhang Wangwan sniffled, looking depressed. When Mother Zhang brought up a fresh bucket of water, she leaned over and explained aggrievedly, "Mom, I did wash! Otherwise, the water you left for me wouldn't have been used up. Who knew it would end up like this just from going into the room!"

"Alright, alright. You know the house isn't fit for living in, yet you still go poking around. Who's to blame?" Mother Zhang grumbled while tearing open the Band-Aid. When Zhang Wangwan finished washing her hands, she went to apply it, but after looking for a long time, she couldn't find the wound. "Where is it?"

"Here!" Zhang Wangwan held out her index finger, only to find that apart from a water droplet, there wasn't a single mark on her fingertip, let alone a wound.

Zhang Wangwan was stunned. Mother Zhang thought Zhang Wangwan was joking with her, but she had clearly seen her daughter's finger bleeding just a moment ago.

The mother and daughter shared the same confused expression. Mother Zhang, being a straightforward person, felt relieved as soon as she couldn't find the wound and laughed, "I guess the bleeding stopped. Put it on yourself; I'm going to cook for you."

Zhang Wangwan was dumbfounded. Apply it? She needed a wound to apply it to! Where was she supposed to stick it now? Thinking about it later, since the Band-Aid was already torn open, she just stuck it on the spot where she had been hurt and stopped worrying about it.

It must be said that both mother and daughter were incredibly carefree in this regard.

The kitchen still used the old-fashioned wood-burning stove. The bowls and chopsticks were in the cabinet, and after a wash with dish soap, they were ready to use. Mother Zhang simply boiled the instant noodles and poached two duck eggs for their lunch.

It was only a little past one in the afternoon after they finished eating, and they had to rush back to Pu City without delay.

After such a tiring day, Zhang Wangwan was completely exhausted when she got home. She collapsed onto her bed, feeling limp, and fell asleep without realizing it while listening to the sounds Mother Zhang was making in the kitchen.

In her dream, Zhang Wangwan found herself inside that landscape painting. The trickling spring was less than twenty meters away from her, and a stone tablet stood on the bank. It was engraved with characters Zhang Wangwan didn't recognize at all, but fortunately, there were small Traditional Chinese annotations next to each character, likely added by someone later. Based on those characters, she guessed and deduced the nature of the spring.

This spring was a "Spirit Spring." A single drop of its water could make withered wood bloom and grant longevity, protecting one from all illnesses. However, the spiritual energy of the spring water was too concentrated and needed to be diluted before use. The Spirit Spring did not grant immortality. Its previous owner was a carpenter from the Republic of China era. After the carpenter died, his contract with the Spirit Spring was dissolved, and the spring attached itself to the landscape painting the carpenter had carved, waiting for the next person destined to find it. She didn't know who had used that wood carving to make a drawer, causing it to remain hidden from the light for nearly a century. By a stroke of luck, it had ended up benefiting her.

(End of chapter)