Chapter Fifty-Four: The Tragedy at Ronghua Village (I)

Cold sweat trickled down Fu Yang’s neck…

Beside him, Ah Huang sensed something was wrong and gave him a pat on the head.

“Little Yang, have you lost your mind? The bride and groom are about to come out—take a look! How often do we get to crash a rich kid’s wedding like this? Hey, what’s—”

Ah Huang tugged at Fu Yang, but he didn’t move. He simply stared fixedly to the side. Ah Huang followed his gaze.

In that instant, Ah Huang’s heart jolted, an indescribable fear rising from within him!

He, too, had seen that Ghost Lord, and it was clear this little boy, Liu Mingming, had exactly the same face, build, and age as the Ghost Lord!

Just then, Fu Yang turned his head and locked eyes with him.

Both saw the terror and cold sweat in each other’s eyes.

“Ah Huang, what on earth is going on?”

“I—I don’t know either. Everyone here seems perfectly normal! No ghostly aura, no evil presence. And look, they cast shadows under the lights!”

Fu Yang looked in the direction Ah Huang pointed, and sure enough, every villager cast a shadow on the ground beneath the lanterns. They definitely weren’t ghosts.

“Then what’s happening? Is there really such a crazy coincidence in this world? They look exactly the same!”

If something defied all logic, then it must be supernatural.

What lay before them was precisely that.

Yet the two who’d made this discovery had no idea how to explain it to Zhao Shanshan and Liu Zhanming, who were still watching the festivities with rapt attention.

“Let’s go! Whatever the case, we need to leave this village right now,” Fu Yang said resolutely.

The more he thought back on the village’s oddities, the more afraid he became…

All the buildings were ancient, there were no power lines, only lanterns for illumination, all the villagers wore Republic-era clothing, and even the wedding itself followed ancient customs.

What he’d overlooked before now became a source of horror!

Ah Huang agreed, tugging at Liu Zhan and Zhao Shanshan’s sleeves and whispering, “Let’s go! Don’t alarm anyone. We need to get out of here quickly.”

Zhao Shanshan and Liu Zhan were bewildered and about to ask why they had to leave in such a hurry when the adorable little girl, Zhenzhen, called out to them.

“Shanshan, this is my good friend Liu Mingming—the younger brother of Liu Mengshu, who’s marrying my aunt today.”

Damn it! Could their luck possibly be any worse?

Fu Yang and Ah Huang groaned inwardly—of all times, why did the little girl have to notice them now?

They stared in horror at the little boy called Liu Mingming. Ah Huang was already stealthily forming a spell gesture, ready to unleash the thunder of Mount Longhu at the slightest sign of trouble!

But the boy, who looked exactly like the Ghost Lord, only gave a slight, polite smile and said, “Hello, everyone. I like your clothes—they look nice. But they’re a bit strange, hehe.”

Then he turned back to chat with Zhenzhen, ignoring them completely.

Uh… What was going on? Just what was this Ghost Lord up to?

Fu Yang and Ah Huang were both completely baffled.

It felt like watching someone pick up a fruit knife and thinking they meant to kill you, when really, they just wanted to peel you an apple…

“Fu Yang, why are we in such a hurry to leave?” Zhao Shanshan asked blankly.

Just then, the villagers suddenly erupted in cheers.

On the wooden platform covered in red carpet, the bride and groom emerged slowly, offering wine to the four elders sitting above, then turning to face the crowd.

The groom was handsome, the bride beautiful—a perfect match.

But then, disaster struck!

Bang.

A gunshot rang out.

A bullet flew from the distance, striking the bride squarely in the chest, a vivid, unnatural spray of blood blossoming forth.

The groom, Liu Mengshu, froze, disbelief in his wide eyes.

Someone had fired a gun!

Fu Yang was stunned, as were all the villagers present.

But it wasn’t over—more shots rang out, bang, bang, bang. Decorations on the wedding platform were instantly shattered, fragments flying everywhere.

Screams erupted as villagers scattered in terror.

Fu Yang and the others spun around and saw an unbelievable sight!

A squad of uniformed soldiers, each armed with rifles fitted with bayonets, marched up the village road. The rising sun flag at the tip of their bayonets blazed glaringly bright…

Liu Zhan and Zhao Shanshan cried out, “Japanese devils!!”

Fu Yang and Ah Huang, meanwhile, understood in a flash.

An illusion!

This must be an illusion.

Ah Huang was nearly catatonic, muttering, “Such a realistic illusion—I can’t tell the difference at all. My god… What level of cultivation does it take to cast something like this?”

Of course, he was being a bit hard on himself. After so many battles, even the strongest would be exhausted. Ordinary people make mistakes when extremely tired, let alone practitioners in magical combat.

Had he been in his normal state, Ah Huang would have realized that the entire village of Ronghua was a mystical illusion…

Unfortunately, exhaustion dulled both their minds and senses.

“Ah! The enemy is here!”

“Run! The most brutal Japanese devils have come…”

“How could they have made it this far?!”

Terrified screams echoed all around as villagers scattered like panicked ants, throwing the wedding into utter chaos.

The accursed soldiers had reached the edge of the open ground, firing their rifles indiscriminately into the crowd. Dozens had already fallen…

Crash, crash.

But now, things had changed—the villagers seemed to ignore Fu Yang and his group completely. A few, scrambling and crawling, even ran right into them.

Zhao Shanshan, white with fear, tried to dodge behind Fu Yang, but there was no time.

She braced to be bowled over, but the villagers ran straight through her body… like shadows passing through air.

“What’s happening?!”

Zhao Shanshan cried out in shock.

Ah Huang, eyes cold as he watched the massacre, said, “With a spectacle this large, the one who cast the spell doesn’t have the power to make it as lifelike as before. So this part of the illusion is much less convincing.”

Caster? Spell power? Illusion?

Zhao Shanshan and Liu Zhan weren’t fools—they understood at once. This village, it seemed, wasn’t real at all!

Perhaps it was a woman’s innate maternal instinct, but Zhao Shanshan still worried about the adorable little Zhenzhen.

“Zhenzhen! Run, come with us!”

She reached for the little girl, but her hand passed only through empty air.