For thirty years, he has roamed the Northeast, his divine might overwhelming all immortals under hea

He let out a series of low, pleasurable chuckles, like countless damp, cold insects crawling on his back.

He slowly moved back to the thatched hut, and with a creak, closed the broken door.

The firelight behind the paper window still flickered.

I felt like a lump of mud, almost collapsing into a crack in the rock. Cold sweat had already soaked through my undershirt, sticking coldly to my skin.

Before he could even catch his breath...

Uncle Chen moved.

His movements were extremely stiff, his joints seemed to have rusted for years, making a dull, grating "crack...crack..." sound.

He seemed to be pulled by invisible threads, slowly but resolutely rising from his humble kneeling position, section by section.

Then he turned around, his face still as numb as a corpse, his eyes cloudy as if covered by a veil. He took slow, almost silent steps, dragging them along, one after another, towards me.

Is he leaving, or has he discovered me?

I pressed my body firmly against the rock wall behind me. The rough, slippery moss and some kind of cold, sticky substance seeped through my clothes, sending shivers down my spine.

I held my breath, wishing I could stop my heartbeat, my eyes were sore from staring so intently at Uncle Chen.

Chen Bo walked straight ahead, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.

As I passed through the crack in the rock, I was so close that I could smell a mixture of earthy, musty sweat and an indescribable stench emanating from him.

That ashen face was turned to the side, and there seemed to be traces of saliva still remaining at the corner of its mouth.

If it were a living person, even with just a glance, they would surely have noticed the violently trembling mass in the darkness.

Fortunately, he wasn't.

He was just a hollowed-out, yet driven by some kind of force, walking corpse.

Uncle Chen's figure disappeared into the night outside the cave entrance, and the sound of his dragging footsteps finally faded away.

A deathly silence returned, with only the flickering firelight behind the thatched hut's window paper still dancing restlessly, casting distorted shadows on the cave walls.

A bolder, even insane, idea crawled out of my heart like a cold snake.

Those three large water vats.

What exactly was in that large water vat that the eerie old man treasured so much and that made him chuckle with pleasure?

They crouched silently in the shadows at the edge of the firelight, dark and menacing, like three crouching giants, exuding an irresistible and heart-stopping attraction.

The lid was tightly closed.

I took a deep breath, but the air I inhaled only made my chest feel more constricted.

I started to move, using both my hands and feet, trying my best to control every muscle fiber, inch by inch, towards the water tank.

It was only a dozen steps away, but it felt as long as wading through glue.

Time is stretched and distorted by fear.

Ears caught the faintest sound from the direction of the thatched hut, eyes were fixed on the flickering light and shadow on the window paper, trying to determine if the old monster was still inside.

Sweat broke out again, trickling down my temples, itching like bugs were crawling on them, but I didn't dare raise my hand to wipe it.

Finally, my fingertips touched the rough, cold ceramic wall of the water vat.

I was almost completely exhausted; my legs were so weak that I had to lean against the tank to barely stand.

My throat was so dry and tight it felt like it was going to burst, my heart was pounding wildly under my ribs, and the clamor was pounding against my eardrums.

I slowly, very slowly, straightened up, my gaze still fixed on the window, while my trembling hand touched the edge of the heavy wooden lid of the nearest jar.

The wood was damp and cold, carrying an indescribable, faint fishy smell.

I gritted my teeth, exerted force with my fingertips, and lifted the wooden lid a crack.

A stronger, more complex odor suddenly wafted out.

It had a watery smell, an earthy smell, and a strange, cloying, rotten smell, like herbs that had been soaked in water.

I squinted, peered through the crack.

Just then, a sudden burst of light appeared, briefly illuminating the inside of the tank.

Just one glance.

My blood seemed to freeze instantly, then explode!

It felt like I'd been struck hard on the top of my head by an invisible giant hammer. My vision went black, my ears were ringing, and I froze on the spot, forgetting even to breathe.

Inside the jar was a face I knew to the bone, a face that would never appear again.

Brother Sanlv!

His face was an unnatural, bluish-white swelling, as if he had been soaked in a thick, dark liquid. His eyes were tightly closed, and his features were slightly distorted in the viscous, dark liquid. But it was definitely the same Third Brother I had buried with my own hands!

How could that be?

How did the remains end up here?

Could the strange old man in the house be the master who taught Brother Sanlu the evil magic?

What was he planning to do by bringing Brother Sanlu's body here and soaking it in these vats?

Corpse refining? Spirit nurturing? Or...?

Countless questions, fears, and chilling speculations instantly tightened around my brain like frantic vines, creating a chaotic mess that almost shattered my skull.

"Kid, stop fucking thinking about it!"

Huang Dalang's sharp and urgent voice was like a needle, piercing through my near-collapse.

"Quick, let's go! I feel something coming in from outside, a lot of it, and very quickly!"

I shuddered, instinctively breaking free from the immense shock.

They hurriedly pressed the wooden lid back into place, making a soft "click." The sound, however, was chillingly loud in the deathly silent cave.

I turned around and wanted to go back the way I came.

Just then.

A gust of wind suddenly rushed in from the direction of the cave entrance.

It wasn't a natural wind; it was chilling and biting, carrying the damp, musty smell of the depths of the earth and a chilling, dense rustling sound that preceded it.

Immediately afterwards, a black tide surged in.

It's a rat.

Densely packed, hundreds and thousands!

Each one was abnormally large, almost the size of a kitten, its wet fur reflecting a faint light, and its eyes glowed with countless red dots in the darkness, like a moving, malevolent galaxy.

They emitted low, guttural "humming" sounds from their throats, which coalesced into a chilling buzzing sound. They moved with incredible speed and clear purpose, like a trained army, charging straight toward the depths of the cave and the thatched hut!

Holy crap!

Even Huang Dalang's voice changed tone.

"Those are fucking rats? Look at them! Thirteen, quick! Slip out the door while they're not looking!"

I was so terrified that I practically scrambled back to the crevice where I had been hiding, curling up desperately as I watched the nauseating black torrent rush past my feet.

The strong, fishy smell almost suffocated me.

The swarm of rats quickly passed through the passage and plunged into the depths. The "humming" sound gradually faded away, but the restlessness and chill left in the cave lingered for a long time.

"Thirteen, this place is extremely eerie."

Huang Dalang lowered his voice, which was unusually serious.

"Listen to me, evacuate first. Something's probably going to happen in the village; we have to save the survivors first."

Still shaken, I instinctively retorted.

"Then... what about Xiulian? That old man is clearly after..."

"Yo ho!"

Huang Dalang interrupted me, forcing out a hint of his usual teasing tone.

"She's not even married into the family yet, and you're already thinking about your wife? You're about to die and you're still thinking about this!"

"Big Wave Bro! Let's get serious!"

I felt both anxious and ashamed.

Huang Dalang paused, seemingly making quick calculations.

"Don't panic. You have to play the long game to catch the big fish. In the current situation, a head-on confrontation is the worst approach. As for Xiulian... there are ways to help her."

"What method?"

"Find someone to impersonate her."

Huang Dalang's speaking speed increased.

"Your sister Ruoyun is good at this. We need to hurry back; what's in here will cause trouble sooner or later."

Although I think Huang Dalang's method is somewhat similar to fishing.

But the bait is Xiulian. Fortunately, I can ask my other relative, Liu Ruoyun, for help with this matter.

Before I could even speak, Liu Ruoyun's voice rang in my mind.

"Thirteen, go first."

"As for what you, Brother Dalang, said, I have no problem with it."

Liu Ruoyun's voice delighted me.

They took larger and faster steps as they walked out of the cave.

The moment I sold the cave, I guess it was already dawn.

The sunlight shone on me, dispelling all the chill emanating from the cave.

It makes me feel like I'm still alive.

It was during this moment that I suddenly remembered.

It seems that Brother Sanlu asked me at the time if I knew Xiulian.

Was Xiulian already being targeted back then?

And when Brother San asked me, was he giving me a hint?

I felt a deep sense of regret, as if I hadn't grasped the concept and had missed something.

I ran wildly down the mountain, eager to see Xiulian as soon as possible, but when I stood at the door of Xiulian's house, I was dumbfounded once again.

A white cloth was tied to Xiulian's door, the yard was full of people, and there was constant crying coming from inside the house.

It is extremely sad.

I quickly made my way through the crowd and saw Xiulian.

She was wearing mourning clothes.

Her eyes were already red and swollen from crying.

On the floor inside the house was a coffin, and inside the coffin was Xiulian's father.

"this………"

I was speechless for a moment, and I didn't know what to say.

"Thirteenth Brother..."

Xiulian threw herself into my arms, and I gently patted her back.

Xiulian's body trembled in my arms like leaves in the autumn wind, her sobs muffled and heart-wrenching.

As I awkwardly patted her, I glanced up at the coffin.

A lamp was lit in front of the coffin, its flame flickering and illuminating the face inside.

Xiulian's father, Old Wang.

I saw him yesterday, he seemed quite healthy, how could he just be gone like that?

My father pushed through the crowd, his face showing anxiety and exhaustion from not having slept all night, and he lowered his voice.

"Thirteen, where have you been? Your mother and I were so worried!"

"Father, I..."

My throat was dry; the things that happened in the cave felt like ice shards stuck in my chest, impossible to spit out or swallow.

I couldn't say it in front of so many people.

"Take a look at your Uncle Wang's situation. Although Xiulian isn't officially married yet, the engagement is set. You need to help arrange things."

"Father, I know."

"Hey, you know, we brothers always argue and bicker. The child's marriage was already arranged, so why did you leave? Don't worry, Xiulian, our Li family will take good care of her."

My father stood beside the coffin, fiddling with Xiulian's father.

"Xiulian, what's going on?"

"I heard my dad coughing badly last night, but I didn't think much of it at first, since he's coughed before."

"But I realized something was wrong in the middle of the night. My dad usually snores, but he was unusually quiet yesterday. When I got up to check on him, I didn't know what had happened—he was gone!"

As Xiulian spoke, tears streamed down her face.

"Xiulian, be strong. We have to take care of your father's funeral arrangements."

Xiulian nodded, and I took the mourning cloth that my father handed me.

Although the wedding hasn't taken place yet, the betrothal is arranged, so I'm practically a son-in-law.

Just then, Huang Dalang's voice, tinged with anxiety, suddenly pierced my mind.

"Thirteen! Look down! Look under the coffin!"

I instinctively followed his words and glanced down at the bottom of the dark coffin.

The coffin was supported by two long benches, and in the dim light beneath, the ground seemed somewhat strange.

It wasn't loose soil, but a thin, grayish-white layer that looked like water-soaked incense ash, yet not quite.

The mark was very faint, extending indistinctly from under the coffin towards the doorway for a short distance before breaking off.

"See that?"

Huang Dalang's voice was urgent.

"This isn't ordinary incense ash; it has a musty, rotten smell! It's a bit like the smell in that cave!"

My hair stood on end.

Could it be that the old monster wasn't just laughing in the cave last night, but also came out to harm people?

The target wasn't Xiulian, but her father?

Liu Ruoyun's cool voice rang out at the right time, carrying a soothing tone.

"Thirteen, don't panic. There are too many people around now, it's not the time to investigate further. Comfort the girl, we'll deal with it later tonight."

I steadied myself and forced myself to look away from under the coffin.

Xiulian gradually stopped crying, but her shoulders were still trembling.

She raised her swollen, red eyes and looked at me, her eyes filled with helplessness and fear.

"Thirteenth Brother... my father... how could he have passed away!"

My heart was in turmoil, but I could only put on a brave face and comfort her.

"Xiulian, don't overthink it. Uncle Wang passed away suddenly from an illness. Let's give him a proper send-off and let him rest in peace."

The trumpeter, who was helping with the arrangements, began to play a mournful tune, and someone started preparing to dress Xiulian's father in his burial clothes.

The room was even more chaotic.

My parents were also busy helping out.

But my father is my father after all, and he noticed that I was somewhat distracted.

Then they pulled me aside.

"Thirteen, I know you're not the same person you used to be, you're a shaman now, but no matter what you need, you have to help arrange your Uncle Wang's funeral first. Do you really think you can rely on Xiulian, a young woman? A man should be responsible and know what's important and what's urgent."

"Father, I know."

"Thirteen, come over here quickly. You'll be going to study the banquet later."

"A lot of people came from inside and outside the village; I estimate there are about twenty or thirty tables."

My mother called to me, and I walked towards her.

Xiulian knelt before the altar, burning paper money and returning the gifts, looking extremely haggard.

I felt a burning anger inside, mixed with an inexplicable sense of self-reproach.

Xiulian's father definitely did not die suddenly.

Moreover, he had met Uncle Chen.

Did Uncle Chen take away Xiulian's father's anger when he left yesterday?

The more I think about it, the more I feel it's my fault.

I blame myself for not noticing it in time. Perhaps if I had noticed then, Xiulian's father wouldn't have died.

I felt annoyed, and then Huang Dalang's voice came again.

"Thirteen, don't look up, look to your right."