"Granny, these two guests who have traveled a long way have something they need your assistance with," the Village Head said to the old woman, bowing deeply even while seated in his chair.

"Is it the Gu poison placed by Hua Jinlan?" The Granny, at one hundred and thirty-two years old, spoke with a vigor that surpassed many sixty or seventy-year-olds. Had the Village Head not told me beforehand, I would never have believed the old woman was over a century old.

"Yes, yes, it's the matter Hua Gu mentioned to you last night." My first encounter with the Village Head was that morning when the scar on his face was fresh; he had appeared leaning on a staff, and the crowd had automatically parted for him—quite imposing. But the Village Head now was entirely different: humble in speech and subdued in demeanor, looking less like a chief and more like a dutiful grandson.

"The person isn't here, and the Gu poison flared up this morning, correct?" There was a commanding air in her voice, rather reminiscent of Empress Dowager Cixi.

"That's right," I couldn't help but interject from the side. "I saw the one who placed the curse last night, but alas, I cannot ask her to lift it. My sister's life is still in grave danger."

"You are her blood relative, the younger brother?" the Granny continued to inquire.

"Yes." I nodded.

"How long will your journey back take?"

"About eight hours."

"Good," the Granny nodded, then added, "I can help you, but after you are saved, you must do something for me." With that, Hua Gu helped her rise, and they moved toward the backyard, the three of us humbly following in their wake.

The backyard was even more desolate than the front. There were no bean trellises, no enclosing walls, only a dilapidated, small thatched hut. The path leading to it was entirely mud, with only a few stone slabs placed at the threshold. For a one-hundred-and-thirty-two-year-old woman to navigate such terrain was no small feat.

Unexpectedly, as Hua Gu supported the Granny across the muddy ground, the old woman seemed to walk on level earth, not a speck of mud touching her cloth shoes. Wang Jue and I experienced the exact opposite; one step sank us up to our trouser cuffs in mud.

Having finally crossed the mire, we followed them single file into the hut. Inside, it was even more dilapidated than the exterior suggested. Stacks of jars and bottles lined the corners, thick with dust and the smell of mildew. A square table stood in the center of the room, its surface relatively cleaner.

The three of us men stood still inside while the Granny positioned herself near the table. Hua Gu brought over a golden porcelain jar from a corner, wiped it clean with a cloth, and placed it on the table. Then, she retrieved an oil lamp from beneath the table, lit it with a match, and set it before the Granny.

The Granny pulled a dagger from her robes. It looked familiar to me; I wanted to ask about its origins, but fearing I would delay the cure, I swallowed the question and watched silently from the side.

She gripped the dagger in her right hand, her left palm open toward Hua Gu, as if asking for something. Hua Gu quickly took a small pair of scissors from her pocket and approached me, signaling that she needed to snip a lock of hair. I was utterly awestruck by the silent understanding between them.

Hua Gu snipped the hair, cupped it in both hands, and placed it gently into the Granny’s left palm, then retreated to stand beside us.

With her left hand clenched into a fist and the dagger held firm in her right, she raised her right hand and plunged it sharply into the center of her left fist. Blood, mingled with hair, slowly seeped out between her fingers. We were all startled.

Next, as she spread her left hand open to let the blood and hair flow into the porcelain jar, she closed her eyes and began chanting an incantation. A wisp of green smoke slowly rose from the jar, drifting toward the flame of the oil lamp, vanishing upon contact, as if transported to another world.