Chapter 1

As night fell, Li Ang opened his eyes, quietly got out of bed, walked to the bed next to him, and with a casual chop, struck his temporary roommate on the back of the neck.

The unfortunate passenger didn't even utter a sound before passing out quite decisively.

To be safe, Li Ang pried open his eyelids and waved a flashlight back and forth over his eyeballs.

After confirming that he was unconscious, he put on his raincoat, masked his face, pried open the window, and climbed out.

In the night, only a few scattered lights flickered in Dusheng Village. Li Ang ran towards the gully, using the beam of his flashlight to find the grave of Meng Qixi, the village teacher.

Perhaps out of gratitude for Meng Qixi's selfless dedication, the villagers had built him a fairly elaborate tomb. Some words of praise were engraved on the tombstone, and some flowers were placed in front of it.

Now, in the dead of night, with a heavy rain concealing his movements, Li Ang directly used zhàyào to blow the tomb open with a "boom," and lifted the coffin lid.

The coffin was empty, without even a trace of blood or the growth of maggots.

Li Ang, biting his flashlight, frowned.

Meng Qixi's body was gone, or rather, his body had never been placed in the coffin.

What exactly did the villagers of Dusheng Village do to Meng Qixi...

---

At this time, inside Dusheng Village, Lu Maocai led four strong young men from the village, wearing raincoats, and armed with hemp ropes, machetes, flintlocks, and carrying poles, silently advancing towards the home of villager Shi Kangjian.

Because of Lu He's mysterious death, Tian Yourong, Song Zhen, and Wei Linglan, who had been staying at Lu He's house, were arranged by the village chief to stay overnight at Shi Kangjian's house tonight.

The raging wind and rain, which should have been disturbing, seemed like a reassuring guarantee to Lu Maocai. He led his group to Shi Kangjian's door, walked to the window, and gently knocked.

Shi Kangjian's face appeared behind the first-floor living room window.

After confirming it was Lu Maocai, he used a key to open his front door, welcoming the six figures into the house.

Lu Maocai lowered his raincoat hood, opened his mouth, pointed to the side bedroom upstairs, and whispered, "Are they all asleep?"

Shi Kangjian nodded. He had added a lot of anmianyào to the three of their drinking water earlier that evening to ensure they would sleep soundly.

Lu Maocai took a deep breath, gripped the flintlock in his hand, and walked up the stairs.

Dusheng Village, originally named Dushen Village,

Legend has it that in ancient times, this place was plagued by epidemic ghosts, with corpses filling the fields and bones scattered everywhere. Every family had the grief of weeping. A Daoist priest took pity on the people, gathered the living, and built a village in the gully according to the principles of feng shui.

He also passed down formations and rituals that could isolate demons and ghosts, bring favorable weather, abundant harvests, and thriving livestock.

The only problem was that the ritual, held once every five years, required a human sacrifice.

In ancient times, with backward communication, the villagers of Dushen Village would abduct mentally disabled beggars from outside, offer them as human sacrifices according to the ritual, and indeed, they did not suffer any natural disasters.

The village enjoyed favorable weather, bountiful harvests, and the villagers lived in peace and contentment, like a paradise.

Unfortunately, as time went on, the effect of the ritual became less and less effective each year. In addition, the disturbances of war disrupted the inheritance.

Until seven months ago, people in the village began to die one by one. Village Chief Lu Gui found the formation ritual in the ancestral temple's records and rebuilt the altar in his attic.

He and the villagers then tied up Meng Qixi, the village teacher who had fallen ill in bed, and trapped him on the altar.

It was Lu Maocai who dug out his heart.

Meng Qixi never imagined that he, who had dedicated most of his life to Dusheng Village, would be killed alive by the villagers who were once so familiar and kind.

At the time of his death, his small eyes were filled with great confusion.

Lu Maocai did not regret killing Meng Qixi. After all, the latter was already seriously ill and would not live long.

Moreover, since Meng Qixi had already given so much to the village, it was only right for him to give a little more.

Sure enough, after sacrificing Meng Qixi, the deaths in the village subsided.

But perhaps because of the changing times, the feng shui formation laid down by the Daoist priest had long been destroyed by the various newly built buildings in the village.

The effect of the ritual lasted for less than six months, and people in the village began to die again.

Village Chief Lu Gui, while modifying the village's terrain according to ancient books, trying to repair the formation,

also asked his eldest son, Lu Maodian, who had some influence in the city, to think of a way.

Just as Lu Maodian contacted Mule and hired Li Ang, Lu Gui's understanding of the formation ritual improved again, bringing down heavy rain to temporarily isolate the ghosts.

Subsequently, the landslide occurred, the passengers were trapped, and the vengeful ghost gradually broke through the formation's defenses, once again unleashing its slaughter.

If the situation hadn't been so urgent, Lu Gui wouldn't have wanted to attack these passengers. He would have preferred to use some familiar channels to find suitable sacrifices that wouldn't attract widespread attention.

Lu He's death was the last straw that broke the camel's back. No one in the village could guarantee that they could survive the vengeful ghost's reckoning.

Tonight, Tian Yourong, Song Zhen, and Wei Linglan would become new sacrifices - their deaths would not be in vain. The villagers of Dusheng Village would, thanks to their dedication, live a peaceful and tranquil life.

As Lu Maocai thought this, he recalled Wei Linglan in her white dress, and felt a surge of heat in his heart.

Perhaps, before the sacrifice, he could enjoy her...

Lu Maocai touched the handrail and walked up the corner of the stairs. A glance at the stairs in the corner of his eye made him realize in astonishment that the numbers were wrong.

He had brought four strong young men, plus Shi Kangjian, which made six people.

But as a bolt of lightning flashed, there were seven shadows on the wall of the staircase.

The lightning flashed and disappeared, and the corridor returned to darkness.

Lu Maocai's body instantly froze. He felt a chill down his spine, his legs trembling, and he couldn't even hold the flintlock in his hand steady.

The villager standing behind him saw Lu Maocai stop, felt a little puzzled, and asked softly, "Why aren't you..."

Before he could finish speaking, a hand silently pierced through his chest.

The villager lowered his head, and the last scene he saw was his heart being held in someone's hand.

Splatter.

The heart was crushed alive.

The slender, disheveled ghost pulled its arm out of the villager's chest, and the latter fell to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

Fear almost occupied all of Lu Maocai's reason.

This was impossible. His father, Lu Gui, had already consumed most of the magic power he had obtained from sacrificing Meng Qixi today, and the denser rain should theoretically isolate all demons and ghosts.

Could it be that it had evolved again...

The ghostly figure leaned forward slightly, and Lu Maocai felt a blur before his eyes. A pair of inhuman claws gently touched his chest.

In the nick of time, a thin bolt of lightning slanted down, smashed through the window, and struck the slender ghost directly.

Lu Gui's attack, which consumed most of the remaining mana in the altar, did cause significant damage to the slender ghost.

It retreated in a panic, pushed aside the crowd squeezed on the stairs, and after slashing a deep wound in the waist and abdomen of the villager Shi Kangjian,

limped out the door.

The terrified Lu Maocai hurriedly ran to the stairwell and saw the ghost rushing into the rain, with wisps of green smoke rising from the parts of its body that were doused by the rain.

Just as it was about to rush into the mountains, the disheveled ghost suddenly stopped.

It stood under a tree and silently turned its head, giving them a deep look, before turning and disappearing completely into the darkness.

Lu Maocai took a deep breath. Ignoring his panicked companions, he ran straight to the second floor and kicked open the door to the side bedroom.

Inside the room, the three of Tian Yourong, who should have been lying down, were gone without a trace. All that remained was the wide-open window, swinging back and forth in the storm.

After losing the mana support, the rain gradually weakened.

Without sacrifices, everyone would soon die.

Lu Maocai walked down the stairs in despair.

Shi Kangjian, whose abdomen had been cut open with a deep wound, leaned against the wall of the stairs, gasping for breath. Several companions were frantically trying to bandage his wound.

"Get out of the way!"

Lu Maocai rudely pushed his companions away, tightly bandaged Shi Kangjian's waist and abdomen, and sighed quietly in response to the latter's plea of "Save me."

This sigh immediately made Shi Kangjian realize something, his eyes widened, his eyes were tearing apart, "What are you going to do? You can't do this!"

"This injury can't be saved. It's your turn to sacrifice for the village."

After saying this, Lu Maocai ignored Shi Kangjian's scolding and struggling.

He took a hemp rope, tied his hands and feet, passed the carrying pole through the rope, and ordered his companions to carry Shi Kangjian like a pig. The group ran wildly towards the home of Village Chief Lu He.