Temple of Binding Evil.
This was a rather unique ancestral temple.
It was built about two kilometers outside the village, deep within the forest.
The vast forest itself was a scenic feature of Rain-Praying Village. Over many years, the villagers had put great effort into building a network of winding paths and detailed signposts throughout it, so that visitors could enjoy the thrill of a jungle adventure without the risk of getting lost or encountering danger.
Following the forest trail eastward—
The two-kilometer path wasn’t long, taking about twenty minutes to walk.
Along the way, perhaps worried that the headless shadow might appear again, Liu Chengfeng constantly looked around nervously, like a startled bird ready to flee.
Fortunately, their luck held.
The journey was uneventful. By the time they reached the Temple of Binding Evil, the sun had grown brighter, slightly dispelling the gloom hanging over their hearts.
The temple was exquisitely built, and even from a distance, one could feel its weight and solemnity.
Not far from it was a drainage ditch.
It wasn’t the rainy season, so the ditch was shallow, filled with jagged rocks and scattered, broken wooden stakes embedded in the mud—leftovers from past floods.
As the three of them entered the temple, they saw only an old man with a hunched back sweeping the outer courtyard.
Nearby was a small hut.
It seemed to be where the old man lived and ate.
The temple was very quiet. Aside from the old man, the three saw no one else.
“Old sir!”
Liu Chengfeng called out loudly.
But the old man completely ignored him.
The three found this strange. As they drew closer, they realized the old man was hard of hearing—only one ear could barely pick up sounds, and one had to be quite close for him to hear anything.
“No wonder he’s been left out in a place like this…” Liu Chengfeng sighed.
After explaining that they were here to visit the temple, the old man was happy and said they could look around freely, as long as they didn’t touch anything inside.
At that point, Bai Xiaoxiao asked him whether anyone had come to the temple the night before. The old man thought for a moment and said two people had arrived around eight or nine in the evening, but didn’t stay long before leaving.
After chatting a bit, Bai Xiaoxiao suddenly changed the topic and asked:
“Old sir, do you know Guang Chuan?”
The old man frowned and leaned his one working ear toward her:
“What boat?”
Bai Xiaoxiao shouted into his ear:
“Guang Chuan!”
“‘Guang’ as in vast, ‘Chuan’ as in rivers and mountains!”
At that, the old man’s face changed drastically. He shook his head frantically:
“No… I don’t know him!”
“I don’t know… never heard of him… don’t know him at all!”
He was rambling, repeating himself over and over, as if trying desperately to convince them he truly didn’t know anyone named Guang Chuan.
At that moment, Ning Qiushui suddenly reached into her clothes and pulled out Guang Chuan’s memorial tablet, holding it in front of the old man.
“Old sir, take a good look. Are you sure you don’t know him…”
As soon as the old man saw the tablet, an indescribable terror flooded his cloudy eyes. He let out a loud cry, as if struck by something, and immediately dropped his broom. He turned around and limped away in a panic!
As he ran, he kept shouting:
“It wasn’t me… I didn’t do it… I don’t know anything… don’t come for me!”
The old man fled in blind terror toward the drainage ditch. His foot caught in the weeds, and he tumbled into the ditch—instantly falling silent.
The three of them felt a sinking dread.
They rushed to check the ditch.
But what they saw froze them in place—
The old man had fallen backward onto a wooden stake. The huge splinters of wood pierced through his chest and the back of his skull. Bright red blood gushed out, flowing steadily downstream with the shallow current…
His lifeless eyes, wide with fear, stared blankly up at the three of them standing at the edge of the ditch…
Liu Chengfeng was startled by the dead man’s eyes and took a half-step back, saying:
“Damn… he’s… dead?”
Both of their expressions turned grim.
“He clearly knew something, but for some reason, he didn’t dare speak.”
As Bai Xiaoxiao spoke, she turned her head toward Ning Qiushui.
“Qiushui, little brother, what are your thoughts?”
She saw that Ning Qiushui was staring at the old man’s corpse, deep in thought, so she asked. But Ning Qiushui shook his head.
“I’m still thinking about the cafeteria…”
Bai Xiaoxiao frowned slightly.
“The cafeteria? What about it?”
Ning Qiushui spoke softly:
“Don’t you two think… the setup of the cafeteria was a bit strange?”
The other two nodded.
Liu Chengfeng scratched his head and said:
“Yeah, it was weird, but maybe that’s just how the village likes their cafeteria designed?”
Ning Qiushui looked them both in the eyes and asked a question that made their scalps tingle:
“Is it possible… that the current cafeteria was originally the guesthouse meant to receive outsiders?”
The moment Ning Qiushui finished speaking, Liu Chengfeng was stunned for a second, then took in a sharp breath:
“Shit… when you put it that way, it really does kind of make sense!”
Bai Xiaoxiao’s eyes lit up:
“It’s not just ‘kind of.’ It probably is.”
“That cafeteria had three levels, and aside from the central food counter, everything else was small cubicles—just the size of individual rooms…”
“I thought it was odd before too, but didn’t think in that direction. Now, though… the clues are starting to connect.”
After speaking, she reached out and patted Ning Qiushui on the shoulder, raising an eyebrow and teasing:
“Not bad, little brother Qiushui!”
“It’s been a long time since I met a guy as detail-oriented as you!”
Ning Qiushui was caught off guard by her half-teasing tone.
Seriously?
Was that a compliment or an insult?
“So what you’re saying is… the building that should’ve been the guesthouse for outsiders was turned into a cafeteria, and the villagers repurposed another old, long-abandoned mansion into a new guesthouse?”
Liu Chengfeng seemed to be catching on.
Ning Qiushui nodded.
“Right.”
“But… why would they do that?”
“I don’t know. But that mansion isn’t clean. Which means they definitely don’t have good intentions toward us.”
As the three of them spoke, they passed through several doors and entered the inner sanctum of the temple. There, they saw a painting in the main hall—alongside a golden statue and its description.
The statue was made of pure gold. Though only palm-sized, it was undoubtedly valuable—especially for a remote village like Rain-Praying Village. It must’ve cost a fortune.
Bai Xiaoxiao toyed with the statue for a bit, then returned it to its place.
Then, the trio turned their attention to the painting.
The setting of the painting seemed to be Rain-Praying Village as well.
However, it appeared aged—likely depicting events from decades, maybe even a century ago.
In it, a man was shown holding a sickle, standing on another man’s back.
There were three people tied up and kneeling on the ground:
A middle-aged man, a woman, and a child.
Behind the sickle-wielding man stood a dense crowd of people. They looked like villagers, with furious expressions, raising their arms and shouting—apparently in support of the execution.
“What is this, a rebellion or something?” Liu Chengfeng was baffled by the scene in the painting.
Bai Xiaoxiao moved closer and gently ran a slender fingertip across the image. A flicker of doubt flashed in her eyes.
“Something’s off. Look closely at the background of the painting…”
The two followed her gaze and realized that the backdrop of the image felt… unusually desolate.
“The scorching sun, dead vegetation, dried-up creek…”
“This is… a severe drought?!”
Liu Chengfeng cried out in surprise.
Ning Qiushui seemed to realize something and muttered:
“Kind-hearted people bled dry… and turned into sweet rain…”
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