Chapter 83 – The Counterfeit

Faced with his younger uncle’s confusion, Wei Yang merely twitched the corner of his mouth and replied indifferently, “Grandma never mentioned any of this to me. She never liked me and never intended for me to inherit the family business.”

Jiang Yong clearly wasn’t well-informed about the Wei family’s situation, which was a stark contrast to his own father’s attitude. How could the previous generation of the Jiang women not have favored Wei Yang? What exactly did his father see in him? Though he was puzzled, he ultimately sighed and said, “The Zhufang is a family heirloom, used to communicate with the household immortal during rituals. Only those with the right bloodline, whether Jiang women or Jiang men, can wield it. It’s said that when casting the spell, one must hold the Zhufang and recite the incantation. However, I’ve heard from my father that some of our ancestors were so skilled that they didn’t even need to chant—just touching the Zhufang was enough to invoke the spirit.”

Wei Yang’s heart skipped a beat. He had long suspected that the fox statue was the so-called Zhufang, but he never imagined it was used in such a way. If he had been possessed just by touching the statue, did that mean his bloodline was exceptionally compatible?

However, he showed no trace of this realization on his face. Instead, he feigned skepticism: “I always thought household immortals possessed people on their own. Why would they need this? Have you seen it in action?”

Although Jiang Yong was also of the direct Jiang family bloodline, he hadn’t been exposed to these matters as much as his brothers. He awkwardly shook his head: “Invoking spirits is a serious matter. It’s not something people are allowed to witness. But this has been the way of our ancestors for generations. When the time is right, they let us try, allowing the immortal to choose its own vessel for worship.”

Wei Yang didn’t comment further and instead asked, “If the Zhufang is destroyed, wouldn’t that sever the lineage? Does the Jiang family have something similar…?”

Jiang Yong sighed with worry: “There’s nothing else. The family only had that one heirloom passed down through generations. When your aunt passed away, it was brought back from your family. Who knew it would end up shattered? My father probably fell ill because of the shock… Anyway, let’s go take a look first.”

It seemed the Zhufang was truly unique. Having gotten the answer he wanted, Wei Yang didn’t press further. Jiang Yong’s expression grew even more troubled. While they had managed to bring Wei Yang here, their conversation had clearly taken an unexpected turn. Who would have thought that the heir his father had high hopes for would be such a clueless young man? Could he really solve his father’s problem? No matter how anxious he was, Jiang Yong didn’t dare delay. In less than twenty minutes, the car rumbled into Li Village and stopped in front of the Jiang family’s ancestral home.

Unlike Wei Yang’s family, the Jiang family had only moved here during the early Republic era, so their roots in the village weren’t very deep. In the rural society of old China, villages were often dominated by a single surname. Outsiders could only settle by marrying into the family or through intermarriage; otherwise, it was difficult to integrate into such a feudal, clan-based society.

However, the Jiang family had easily broken this rule, largely because of the high status of shamans and mediums at the time. Coupled with the social turmoil—warfare, famine, and massive population loss—there were countless wandering spirits, and restless supernatural creatures were also on the rise. The prevalence of possessions and hysteria allowed this outsider family to settle in the village and even build a spacious and luxurious ancestral home.

Later, during the upheavals, the Jiang family’s unique status did cause them some trouble. However, the area was relatively remote, and the so-called “struggle sessions” were mostly superficial. With the protection of someone as shrewd as Wei Changfeng, the family managed to survive relatively unscathed and even began to consider reviving their ancestral practices. Looking at the courtyard, which was no smaller than the Wei family’s old residence, Wei Yang let out a soft sigh and stepped through the gate.

They were greeted by Jiang Yong’s elder brother, Jiang Nian, who appeared to be around the same age as Wei Yang’s uncle but had a much calmer demeanor. Having likely been informed by phone earlier, he wasn’t surprised to see Zhang Xiuqi accompanying Wei Yang. After a brief greeting, he said in a low voice, “Yangyang, come inside with me first and take a look. Your uncle is lying in the main room.”

Since he had already come this far, Wei Yang naturally didn’t refuse and followed the two brothers inside. The Jiang family’s house had likely been renovated a few years ago, as it mostly followed a modern layout. The brick and cement walls were coated with whitewash, making the interior bright and airy. Three adjoining courtyards housed various family members, maintaining the traditional extended family structure. However, as they walked through, they didn’t see a single woman, only some haggard-looking young men, likely the younger generation of the family.

Jiang Nian ignored the young men and led Wei Yang directly into the main house. Unlike the exterior, the main room retained much of its old-fashioned charm. Most of the furniture was made of rosewood, and the Eight Immortals table in the hall held a shrine. The adjacent bedroom featured a large canopy bed with four slender posts supporting a carved ceiling panel, surrounded by three sides of intricate wooden railings. It was elegant and quaint, exuding a sense of refined living. However, the person lying on the bed was far from a pleasant sight.

The old man, who had been vigorous just two days ago, was now completely bedridden. His face was a ghastly shade of green, and a grayish-yellow drool seeped from his nose and mouth. Despite the warm weather, he was bundled under two thick quilts, either to keep him warm or to restrain his movements. His emaciated body shook like a sieve, causing the bed’s curtains to tremble incessantly.

Even though Wei Yang had no fondness for this uncle, he still furrowed his brow: “How did it come to this?”

Jiang Nian shook his head: “This is actually better. Last night, he had what seemed like an epileptic fit and convulsed for half the night. It only calmed down at dawn. He’s just had two IV drips.”

In ancient times, shamans and doctors were often one and the same, so it wasn’t strange for a medium to know a bit of medicine. However, Wei Yang’s question wasn’t about that. It was clear that Jiang Nian was avoiding the issue of how the old man had become possessed, which likely meant he already had some idea of the cause.

Glancing at Jiang Nian, Wei Yang hummed in acknowledgment: “Then why did you call me here? I’m not a doctor, and I don’t know anything about medicine. Coming here is pointless.”

Jiang Nian hesitated, glancing at Zhang Xiuqi beside Wei Yang, and lowered his voice: “Yangyang, this is really a family secret. Outsiders probably…”

“Brother Qi is a life-and-death friend of mine. He’s not an outsider,” Wei Yang cut him off directly. “Besides, he’s a skilled practitioner. If the method you’re thinking of doesn’t work, we’ll have to rely on him.”

There was a hint of mockery in his tone, and Jiang Nian, being a shrewd man, couldn’t have missed it. However, he didn’t say anything, merely pondered for a moment before sighing: “Fine, it’s all for the sake of the old man. I’ll lay it all out.”

With that, he stopped holding back and quickly walked over to the shrine, retrieving something from a hidden compartment. He then returned and extended his hand: “The old man said you were someone who had inherited the role of a worshiper. I can’t figure it out, but we’re out of options. Yangyang, take this and try it.”

In his palm lay a small fox statue, but its head was split in two, revealing the dark red wood inside. With just one glance, Wei Yang recognized it as identical to the one he had seen the day before. Not only was the shape the same, but even the color of the wood was indistinguishable.

However, Wei Yang was no amateur. A single glance was enough for him to see that this was a complete fake. While the exterior could be imitated and the color artificially aged, the wood itself couldn’t be altered. The original Zhufang should have been made of ghost yin wood, a type of sunken wood that should have a consistent color throughout and a texture that was neither entirely wood nor stone. However, the fox statue in Jiang Nian’s hand was clearly not made of sunken wood, given the visible wood grain and the color of the exposed core.

This could only mean one thing: the real Zhufang had been hidden by his grandfather, who had replaced it with a counterfeit to prevent the fox immortal from possessing anyone. After his grandmother’s passing, the fake had been returned to the Jiang family. However, these people were clueless, mistakenly believing that the immortal was simply waiting for a new vessel, completely unaware that their family heirloom had been swapped.

Looking at the broken counterfeit Zhufang, Wei Yang had no intention of exposing the truth. Instead, he pondered for a moment before asking, “Uncle, you know I’ve never been interested in the Jiang family’s affairs. It’s a different era now—jumping around like a shaman isn’t practical anymore. Why are you so desperate to cling to this household immortal?”

Jiang Nian seemed to have anticipated this question and shook his head calmly: “Actually, it’s only my father who’s clinging to this. The stories about this fox immortal from our ancestors are too tempting. Exorcising ghosts and dispelling evil are just side effects—it’s said to have the power to part rivers and turn stone into gold. Unfortunately, no one in recent generations has been able to bring out even half of its power. Now that our Jiang women and men aren’t held in high regard anymore, of course the old man wants to take one last gamble for the sake of future generations. However, I’m not as ambitious. I just want to save the old man. Yangyang, just try this once. Even if you never come back after this, we won’t hold it against you.”

His tone was sincere, and Wei Yang’s brow furrowed slightly, as if he was considering it: “After all, he’s my grand uncle. If I can help, I will. But this thing… it won’t harm me, will it?”

“No!” Jiang Nian answered firmly. “The Jiang family has never had a short-lived offering! The immortal is also cultivating—how could it harm someone for no reason? Besides, it’s our family’s household immortal. Generations of our ancestors weren’t fools—who would worship a malevolent entity? Just look at your grandmother. She lived a comfortable life. Being possessed by the household immortal isn’t scary. It’s said that one’s consciousness remains clear—it’s just lending your body to the immortal for a while.”

This was completely contrary to Wei Yang’s own experience. However, upon closer inspection of Jiang Nian’s expression, he realized the man wasn’t lying. The discrepancy must lie elsewhere. Could it be that the incident in Wang Village had driven this household immortal, which had been nurtured for generations, to madness? But why would it target him?

His mind raced, but Wei Yang showed nothing on his face. Instead, he made a show of steeling himself and extended his hand: “Then I’ll give it a try.”

Jiang Nian visibly relaxed and carefully handed the wooden statue to Wei Yang, then recited the incantation passed down through generations. It was a simple chant, and Wei Yang memorized it after hearing it just once. However, despite holding the Zhufang and reciting the incantation, nothing happened even after ten minutes. Jiang Nian’s expression turned grim.

Of course, nothing would happen—it was a fake. Though Wei Yang knew this full well, he still shook his head apologetically: “Uncle, it seems the old man was mistaken. I’m not the one suited to inherit the Jiang family’s bloodline. You see…”

Jiang Nian’s lips trembled, and he nearly staggered: “The Zhufang must be broken. My father…”

With the family heirloom ruined, it was entirely possible that the fox immortal couldn’t be summoned. However, without the Zhufang, he had no idea how to save his father’s life. Was this a case of the hunter being bested by the prey?

Wei Yang handed the statue back: “Actually, I’ve always wondered why the old man thought what happened in our family was related to me. Uncle, why don’t you explain the situation in more detail? Maybe there’s been some misunderstanding. If we can pinpoint the root of the problem, there might still be a way to solve it.”

Clutching the tattered wooden statue, Jiang Nian hesitated for a moment before finally sighing: “Here’s what happened…”