In the early morning, after regaining control of her body, Wei Linglan didn't cry out for help immediately. Instead, she silently searched for and slipped on a pair of socks over her ankles, which bore the livid, bluish marks of a tight grip, then calmly lay back on the bed and pretended to sleep.
She coolly waited for Tian Yourong and his wife Song Zhen to wake up, listening as they discovered the corpse outside the bedroom door by the overpowering smell of blood.
Tian Yourong and Song Zhen were panic-stricken. Wei Linglan, pretending to be awakened by their noise, reacted with the terror a normal person would exhibit upon seeing the corpse.
Compared to the "thing" that had let her off last night, Wei Linglan was warier of the secrets hidden within the village and the possible existence of another player.
Disguise, concealment, lurking, probing—these are always the best life-saving strategies for players, especially in the real world.
With feigned panic, Wei Linglan ran out of the house with Tian Yourong and his wife, loudly shouting for help.
Village Chief Lu Gui arrived quickly upon hearing the news. His expression darkened when he learned of Lu He's death. Leaning on a wooden cane, he led several young villagers into the house.
The majority of Dusheng Village's residents and passengers formed a dense crowd around Lu He's house, holding umbrellas and peering in with a mixture of curiosity and fear.
Lu He was about the same age as the village chief; his wife had passed away long ago, and his children all lived elsewhere.
The torrential rain had subsided slightly, but communication with the outside world still hadn't been restored, making it impossible to contact Lu He's relatives.
Therefore, Village Chief Lu Gui had several young men fetch an iron stretcher. They placed Lu He's body on it, covered it with a white cloth, and took it to the village's vacant auditorium, where it was temporarily placed alongside Shi Derong's body.
Two deaths in a row, and Lu He's particularly grisly and horrifying demise, could no longer be dismissed as "suicide" or "accident."
Village Chief Lu Gui tried to leave but was surrounded by the agitated crowd. The barrage of questions forced him to raise his hands, gesturing for everyone to speak one at a time.
The driver, Tian Yourong, used his height and build to push his way to the front where Lu Gui stood. His expression was as dark as still water, and his attitude was clearly hostile.
He and his wife were separated from the spot where Lu He died by only a thin wooden door, and it was he who had first discovered the body early that morning.
The state of Lu He's death was extremely gruesome; half of his head had been smashed to bits. An ordinary person, even with tools, couldn't have done it without making any noise.
For the innocent passengers caught up in the incident, the identity of the "thing" that killed Lu He was unimportant. Their priority was to leave Dusheng Village as soon as possible.
With a gloomy expression, Tian Yourong didn't waste time asking the village chief what had happened. He cut straight to the point, saying to Lu Gui, "Chief, the rain has let up a bit today.
I want to borrow some tools from your village to clear the blocked road and hire a vehicle to go to the county town for help."
Although Tian Yourong was making a request, his tone was very firm, and the passengers standing behind him silently backed him up.
Village Chief Lu Gui's expression darkened further as he scanned the crowd.
The thought of leaving Dusheng Village wasn't exclusive to the passengers. Many villagers, intimidated by his stare, lowered their heads.
If the road were cleared, these villagers would probably be the first to follow the passengers and flee Dusheng Village...
After all, aside from a few, they were all involved.
A cold, cruel glint flashed in Lu Gui's eyes. If they were to die, they would all die together.
He put on a warm, kind smile and nodded at Tian Yourong. "Of course, you can. You folks go back and wait a moment. I'll mobilize the villagers to get the tools, and then we can go clear the road together.
After all, a murder has happened here; it's better to report it sooner rather than later."
Tian Yourong nodded and responded with a smile, "Then we'll wait for you at the village entrance."
This driver was crafty; instead of letting the passengers return to where they were staying to wait for news, he had them gather at the village entrance to guard against any foul play from Lu Gui or the other villagers.
Gathering at the village entrance allowed them to exchange information, share opinions, and even make a quicker getaway if necessary.
"Hmm." Village Chief Lu Gui nodded, watching Tian Yourong lead the group of frightened passengers towards the village entrance.
"Dad," Lu Maocai leaned in quietly, discreetly gesturing towards Tian Yourong and the others, a flicker in his eyes. "Should we...?"
"Don't act recklessly."
Lu Gui shook his head and said calmly, "You just go door to door, knock, and give them the tools. That's it."
"But won't they just run away then?" Lu Maocai gritted his teeth. "That Fierce Ghost is getting bolder and bolder. We can't sacrifice our own people, can we?"
"They won't get far."
Lu Gui gave a cold smile, looking at the backs of the departing passengers, and murmured ominously, "They can't get away...."
As he gazed at the outsiders, Li Ang was observing him through the reflection of his cellphone screen.
Yesterday, Lu Gui's legs had been nimble, but today he was mysteriously using a walking stick.
Even though the Cat's Eye's Spiritual Sense function was unusable, Li Ang had a vague intuition that the seemingly brand-new Wooden Long Stick in Lu Gui's hand exuded an air of rot and decay....
Li Ang hadn't gone out last night. Instead, he planned to continue searching for the grave of the village teacher, Meng Qixi, on the other side of the ravine during daylight. To report errors, please visit the original post on *.
And if there was time, he wanted to inspect the bodies of Shi Derong and Lu He in the auditorium as well.
However, the eagerness of these passengers to clear the mountain road and leave might not be a bad thing.
At worst, he could sneak back into Dusheng Village and hide. With these witnesses gone, he could act more freely and take more aggressive measures.
Li Ang followed the group of passengers towards the village entrance.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the village, Lu Gui had his son, Lu Maocai, take some men to gather tools like shovels and baskets. Then he himself, alone, leaning on his walking stick, returned to the three-story villa and ascended to the top-floor attic.
The attic was low and pyramid-shaped, with a glass window on each side. On the wooden floor, many gibberish-looking symbols and intricate, layered patterns were drawn with white paint.
If Li Ang were here, he would surely recognize these symbols and patterns as remarkably similar to the Talismans he had seen in Longheng Mall.
In the center of these patterns stood an altar, clearly man-made, that took up most of the attic space.
The circular altar was constructed entirely from a haphazard collection of twigs, bones, water plants, rice, rotting flesh, and other miscellaneous items, intricate yet chaotic.
It was nauseating, yet it also possessed a sense of great antiquity, even a strange, almost perverse magnificence.
Lu Gui stepped over the twigs and bones to enter the center of the altar and gently tapped the ground with his Wooden Long Stick.
The air in front of him rippled in layers. Pale blue light coalesced into dots, the dots connected into lines, weaving together to form a holographic projection of Dusheng Village's topography.
Standing in the center of the altar, Lu Gui looked at this projection. With a wave of his hand forward, he murmured, "The wind howls and the rain darkens."
These four simple words drained nearly all of Lu Gui's strength.
His face turned pale, and he had to lean heavily on the Wooden Long Stick to keep from collapsing.
Suddenly, the strong winds that had seemed to be abating whipped up once more, and an even denser torrential rain poured down, plunging the world into a thick, impenetrable curtain of rain.
At the village entrance, the passengers and villagers who had already obtained tools couldn't possibly clear the mountain road in such torrential weather. Everyone could only return to their homes, trapped by the relentless downpour.
Up in the attic, Lu Gui forced himself to stand erect and looked at the projection, which had dimmed significantly. He muttered to himself, "According to the ancient texts,
digging ditches to flood the farmlands and reverting Dusheng Village to its ancient feng shui indeed strengthened the altar's Mana.
But more offerings are needed, many more offerings, to repel *it*...."