Chapter Seventeen: The Endless Night

There are countless rules to follow when driving at night. Drivers must be careful not to drive while fatigued, and they shouldn’t let their attention wander. Most importantly, if anyone tries to flag down your car in the dead of night, never, ever stop.

Not stopping for someone flagging you down on a night road isn’t just some old superstition—it’s often a rule of survival for drivers. After all, visibility is poor at night, and things are complicated and hard to judge. It’s all too easy to fall victim to bad people. Perhaps the one waving you down is a beautiful woman with long hair, but once she’s in your car, she morphs into a burly man wielding a knife.

So, it’s best not to stop at night. As the saying goes, “It’s easy to invite gods in, but hard to send them away.” That’s the reasoning behind it.

Because I held these beliefs, when Zhao Hong suddenly slammed on the brakes in the early hours of the night, I was truly startled.

In a rush, I asked Zhao Hong what was wrong, how he could possibly stop the car at night.

Zhao Hong didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he pointed ahead at the road, his face turning pale.

Seeing his expression, curiosity got the better of me, and I followed the direction of his finger. I quickly understood what was troubling him.

Several hundred meters ahead, on the narrow country road, a few police cars were parked with their lights flashing.

I rubbed my drowsy eyes, half asleep, and tried to reassure him, “It’s just a few cops, isn’t it? Not like it’s a ghost. Look how scared you are…”

“I know!” Zhao Hong interrupted, tapping his nose. “The key issue is, I’ve been drinking! And don’t you think...these cops are a bit odd tonight?”

As soon as I heard that, I suddenly remembered—we were driving under the influence! But as for what was strange about those police, I really had no idea.

So, naturally, I said, “What’s so strange about the police? Isn’t it normal to check for drunk driving at night?”

At that moment, Hongye, who had also seen everything, spoke up. “You still don’t see what’s odd? Normally, there’s no way the police would be on this road at all!”

“Hm? Why?” I asked, confused.

Zhao Hong nodded in agreement and said to me, “Your girlfriend is sharp... Because this is a country road. You barely see a handful of cars all night. The only reason the police would set up a checkpoint here is if there’s some problem up ahead.”

After hearing this, I fell silent. I looked up at the road ahead and suddenly realized that whether or not we were drunk driving wasn’t the biggest issue—the real question was, what had happened to the road ahead?

But waiting here wouldn’t solve anything. Whatever dangers lay ahead, we had to see for ourselves.

After a brief discussion, we decided to have Hongye, the only one among us who hadn’t been drinking, drive the car forward so we could ask what was going on.

Sure enough, as Hongye drove us ahead, we were stopped by the traffic police.

To my surprise, after stopping us, the police didn’t ask any questions or even check our paperwork—they just waved us off, telling us to turn around and leave.

We were all baffled by this sudden turn of events. After some prodding, one of the officers finally explained the situation.

He told us that the country road leading to Shiren Gu had suffered a landslide after days of rain. The road ahead was completely blocked by fallen earth and rock, and a few people had even been buried. It would be a long time before repairs could be made.

The news was both unexpected and unfortunate. I felt a sense of helplessness amidst chaos. I knew landslides were a common geological phenomenon, but in the north, they were exceedingly rare. With little rainfall and mostly rocky, stable mountains, the odds were about as slim as winning the lottery.

Yet, against such odds, we had encountered one. It was hard not to suspect that there was more at play. Was fate conspiring against us, or was some mysterious force arranging all this? I couldn’t say.

The traffic police didn’t tell us much more. Urged on by their instructions, we turned the car around and slowly drove back, discussing our next move as we went.

As we drove, I first asked Zhao Hong, who was local, if there was any way to bypass the blocked road, and if so, how to get there.

Zhao Hong replied, “There’s another country road to the west, but if we detour that way now, we probably won’t arrive until tomorrow morning.”

His words made my heart sink. So I asked, “Is there no place nearby to stay? I’m afraid Old Squad Leader won’t be able to wait that long.”

My question left Zhao Hong silent. I noticed an anxious look on his face, tinged with some hidden concern.

“What’s wrong?” His unease made me uneasy too, so I pressed him.

Whatever was on Zhao Hong’s mind quickly faded away, and he forced a smile, saying it was nothing.

Then Zhao Hong suddenly suggested, “I know a shortcut, but the road isn’t great. Let’s keep going; we’ll get there soon.”

“There’s a shortcut?” I was delighted, but also concerned. “Is it easy to drive? Don’t scratch up your truck.”

Zhao Hong shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s fine. It’s an ‘Old Qi Road’—it’s pretty flat and doesn’t run along the mountains. It’s just been abandoned for a long time, so we’ll go slow.”

Curiosity piqued, I asked him what exactly an Old Qi Road was, and why it had been abandoned.

Zhao Hong explained that before joining the army, he’d grown up as a mountain boy in the Yimeng region. Though he rarely returned now, as a child, he’d often walked the mountain paths.

Back then, according to his memories, the Yimeng Mountains didn’t have today’s network of highways—just winding dirt trails snaking through the valleys, and some slightly wider “Old Qi Roads.”

Why were the broad roads in the valleys called Old Qi Roads? It was tied to the unique geography of the Yimeng Mountains, he said.

Due to their treacherous terrain and isolation, the Yimeng Mountains formed a natural boundary between the ancient states of Qi and Lu. Throughout history, these two states fought over the area, building many military installations that left their mark.

Legend had it that the Old Qi Road was one of these historical military routes, built to transport provisions and troops during the wars between Qi and Lu. Because of its strategic importance, many sections survived the ravages of war and were still passable today.

According to Zhao Hong, he’d passed by the Old Qi Road near Shiren Gu a few times when he was in middle school. He remembered the road being wide, even though it was just hardened earth. There were even a dozen or so “stone men” standing by the roadside as markers.

At this point, I couldn’t help but interject, “Stone men by the road! That’s interesting.”

Zhao Hong nodded. “Actually, they’re just big rocks that people have associated with stories. The stones are so weathered it’s hard to tell if they’re man-made or natural. The elders say those stone men are…”

He paused, as if debating how much to say, then continued, “...They’re supposed to be boulders that rolled down from Shiren Gu, pinned in place by immortals to suppress evil spirits.”

“Oh!” we all nodded, urging Hongye to pick up the pace. Everyone seemed eager to lay eyes on those stone figures and perhaps soak up a little otherworldly energy.

During the journey, Zhao Hong told us that there weren’t many Old Qi Roads left now; most had been replaced by concrete highways. The section near Shiren Gu, however, for some unknown reason, had never been renovated and had gradually fallen into disuse.

As he spoke, Zhao Hong suddenly pointed out the window. “Look! Isn’t that it?”

We craned our necks in the direction he indicated and, sure enough, found a hidden, overgrown side path at the edge of the country road.

At the very start of this side road, I saw with my own eyes the “stone man” Zhao Hong had described.

In truth, it was just a stone about half the height of a person, half-hidden in the weeds, looking like a crouching figure at a glance. In the moonlight, from a distance, it did somewhat resemble a person; but up close, the illusion was lost, and all that was left was a bone-white rock.

After switching drivers, Hongye gave up her seat, and Zhao Hong took the wheel, guiding us onto this nearly forgotten, earth-packed Old Qi Road.

Just before entering, I cast one last look at the white, recumbent stone man—and suddenly noticed a wild cat strolling past it. The cat stared at us, its eyes shining an eerie blue in the dark.

For some reason, those eyes reminded me of Wang Hou’s ominous banquet. The cat’s gaze, reflecting in the dark, seemed almost identical to the eyes I’d seen in the rearview mirror.

“Let’s hope nothing happens,” I silently wished.

Then Zhao Hong started the engine, and we sped onto that hidden road, quickly leaving the wild cat behind.

At first, everything went smoothly.

The car drove steadily, and the road was much better than I’d imagined. After pushing through the initial brambles and weeds, the path widened, giving me the illusion of racing down a four-lane highway.

Still, out of caution, we drove slowly. After all, this wasn’t a proper road trip—if we barreled ahead recklessly and something happened, we’d have no time to react.

Perhaps because the road was unexpectedly good, everyone in the car felt drowsy. The day’s fatigue and the lingering effects of alcohol surged, filling the car with yawns and heavy eyelids.

In that haze, I even drifted into a dream. I dreamt I’d arrived at the old squad leader’s house, where he stood in the foyer, beaming, a kitchen knife in hand, welcoming us.

Seeing him, I laughed, and as we embraced, I pointed at the bloodstained knife and asked why he’d greet me with such a thing—had he just slaughtered a chicken?

The old squad leader only laughed harder. He raised the knife and said it was his gift to me, a family heirloom, and insisted I accept it.

I was stunned—there was no way I could take it! If that old relic meant so much to a man as tough as Lei Ren, what right did I have to accept it? It was the honor of many generations.

But in the dream, the old squad leader insisted. If I wouldn’t accept it, he’d simply cut me down himself.

And then, laughing, he really did come at me with the knife. No matter how I screamed, he hacked straight at my head!

The next instant, I was jolted awake by Zhao Hong slamming on the brakes. My head smacked against the seat in front, sending a jolt of pain through the exact spot where the old squad leader had struck me in the dream.

Rubbing my aching forehead, I complained, “Zhao! Why’d you brake so suddenly? Is there a ghost ahead?”

Zhao Hong’s face was pale with shock. He glanced back at me, then slowly pointed ahead. “If it were a ghost, I wouldn’t have stopped... But look—isn’t that someone up ahead...setting up a banquet, eating?”

“What?” I was dumbfounded.

In this wild, deserted place, in the dead of night, how could anyone possibly be having a feast?