Chapter Fifty-Two: The Ancient Village in the Deep Mountains

Roar!
A massive horde of putrid, rotting corpses let out strange and terrifying cries, surging in the direction from which they had fled…

Panting heavily.

Ahuang led the group as they broke free from the encirclement of the undead, plunging headlong into a thicket of wild grass taller than a man, desperately running forward.

The wind howled past their ears; all they could hear was the sound of their own heavy breathing. The leaves of the wild grass seemed serrated, and with the slightest misstep, they left bloody scratches on their faces and the backs of their hands.

But survival was paramount—who could care about such things?

They ran without stopping, not knowing how far they'd gone, but at last, there was not the faintest sound of pursuit behind them, and all around was deathly silent. Only then did they stop.

“I—I… damn it! I’ve never been so wretched, never been so exhausted…”

Ahuang dropped his cloth bag and collapsed onto the ground, mouth open and tongue out, panting like a dog.

Liu Zhan carefully set Fu Yang down before slumping to the ground as well. Zhao Shanshan immediately threw herself down beside Fu Yang to tend to him.

“Fu Yang, are you all right? Are you hurt?”

Zhao Shanshan was truly anxious, her eyes already rimmed red. Such a beautiful woman worrying over him—Fu Yang’s heart was filled with tenderness.

Suddenly, Ahuang sprang up, nerves taut. “Where are the others? Did you see where they went?”

Liu Zhan, still gasping for breath, waved his hand behind him. “Weren’t they right behind us? How…”

His expression froze.

The four of them turned to look back, but behind them, there was only the towering, impenetrable wild grass—no sign of a single soul.

Where had they gone?

Zhao Shanshan suggested trying the radios to see if they could make contact.

But when they all took out their radios, there wasn’t the faintest signal. Completely useless.

Fu Yang spoke weakly, “Could it be we got separated in the grass?”

“Highly likely! We were only focused on escaping, and the terrain here is so complicated—the grass taller than us, the thick fog—it's so easy to get split up…”

Ahuang and the others had no choice but to accept the reality—they were now just a team of four.

Once you got separated in a place like this, it was nearly impossible to regroup.

While they rested, Ahuang asked Fu Yang what had happened earlier. Zhao Shanshan and Liu Zhan looked on, equally curious.

“Don’t look at me, I have no idea. I wanted to ask you all what happened! I feel like I’ve been hauling bricks on a construction site for three days and nights…”

“You really don’t know?”

Seeing that he didn't seem to be pretending, Ahuang briefly explained what had happened. Fu Yang listened, his mouth agape for a long moment before he finally managed, “This is insane!”

The three others fell speechless, silently rolling their eyes at this shameless fellow.

Having survived life and death together, they no longer regarded Liu Zhan as an outsider.

Fu Yang did not hide anything, telling them about the strange beast’s mouth in the center of his right palm. Earlier, he and Ahuang had discussed absorbing more spirit-type ghosts, but after taking in six, his whole body was wracked with excruciating pain—he’d passed out immediately.

After resting for more than ten minutes, they regained some strength. Now, a difficult question lay before them.

What should they do now?

It was already after six in the evening; the sun was about to set, and night was falling. This godforsaken place was desolate and shrouded in mist—they couldn’t even tell which way to go…

“Wait, Ahuang, don’t you have a compass? Use it as a guide.”

“No use. There’s too much sinister energy here—it messes with the needle.”

“So what, we just sit here and wait to die?”

Liu Zhan, a seasoned detective versed in all forms of tracking and investigation, volunteered to navigate.

Although traveling at night in the wild was dangerous, by his estimation, if they were lucky, they could reach the provincial road by nine o’clock.

They set off immediately, trusting Liu Zhan to lead them toward Jiangcheng.

Because everyone was weighed down by exhaustion and the day’s battles, they walked in silence.

They walked for more than two hours, but not only did they not find the road they’d come by, the surroundings grew ever more desolate. From the gentle valleys, the land shifted to undulating hills.

Though the wild grass was no longer as dense, the low, twisted shrubs about them looked eerily contorted; with the chill wind and the occasional passing crow, the atmosphere was uncanny and ominous.

Ahuang frowned. “Detective Liu, are we lost? If we were headed the right way, the landscape shouldn’t look like this.”

Liu Zhan was embarrassed, unsure what to say. He had done his best, but the skills he used to track ordinary criminals proved useless in such a supernatural place.

Fu Yang tried to comfort him. “It’s all right, Detective Liu. At least we’re out of the thick fog.”

And indeed, the air was clear now, with a bright full moon hanging in the night sky. If not for their dire predicament, there might have been something romantic about it.

As they walked, Shanshan suddenly pointed ahead and shouted, “Look! There’s a light over there—it looks like a village…”

Looking where she indicated, they saw a village not far ahead, faint outlines of houses visible.

For these weary travelers, it was as if they’d won the lottery.

“Let’s hurry over—maybe some kind villagers will give us a meal. I’m starving.”

“Yes! I want braised pork…” said Ahuang, rubbing his stomach.

“You’re a monk, you can eat meat?” Fu Yang teased.

“Idiot! I’m a Taoist, not a monk.”

The four hurried toward the village. From a distance, they could see a tall banyan tree at the entrance, beneath which stood a large stone stele bearing the words: Ronghua Village.

It seemed an old place—the entrance was marked by a stone archway like those in the ancient towns of Zhouzhuang or Xitang, with vintage red lanterns hanging on either side, exuding an air of antiquity.

Girls often loved traveling, so when Zhao Shanshan saw such an entrance, she was delighted, even wondering aloud why this place hadn’t been developed into a tourist spot—it would be a hit.

Liu Zhan muttered, “I don’t recall any place called Ronghua Village this close to Jiangcheng…”

As a seasoned detective, he was very familiar with the geography of Jiangcheng, but faced with what was right before him, he thought no further.

“This village is so quiet.”

“Country folk sleep early. Most are probably already in bed. Let’s try our luck and see if someone will let us stay the night.”

Utterly exhausted, the four of them walked into the village…