Old He’s words hit me like a thunderclap. My mind went blank, the sky seemed to cave in, my legs turned to jelly, my hands went numb, and my vision blurred.

Staggering over to Xiao Shu, I saw Old He was right; a spear-like object, emerging from beneath the stone, had pierced completely through his body. The spear’s conical tip protruded from his left neck. He and the stone were skewered together like candied fruit on a stick.

I don't know if he was in pain, but when Old He and I found him, his head was already lolling lifelessly. A tentative check of his nostrils confirmed a faint breath remained. In this state, merely breathing was a miracle.

“What do we do?” I felt utterly lost; this sudden situation was far beyond what any normal person could handle.

“I don’t know either. Have you ever encountered anything like this?” Old He looked equally stumped.

“No. That night, aside from me being wounded by Bai Huaqian’s jab, no one else was hurt,” I confirmed firmly.

“Did you miss this mechanism back then? Look how the sky is now filled with killing intent; I suspect we are no longer in the same spacetime we were moments ago.” Old He stared up at the heavens, gently touching Xiao Shu’s tilted head, his eyes filled with deep sorrow.

“To be honest, I still don't fully understand what happened that night. Everyone went silent after returning to the village, refusing to mention anything. I can only recount the strange occurrences based on my memory. Initially, everyone was normal. Then I saw Wang Jue bleeding from all seven orifices, his neck looking as if it had been slashed open, revealing mangled flesh. After that, Scarface appeared, and Wang Jue, along with the other villagers, charged at him to kill him. When everything ended the next morning, everyone returned to normal, except for the wound on my leg, still stinging from where Bai Huaqian stabbed me with a sickle. There was no trace of injury on Wang Jue’s neck or face. It seemed to be the same for everyone else, even though I vividly recall seeing many people losing limbs during the brawl that night; yet, they appeared in the village the next day completely unharmed.”

Old He knelt beside Xiao Shu and sighed. “I don’t know if what you say is good or bad news for him. If what you said is true—that those injured will recover perfectly unscathed by the next day—then thank the Buddha, great mercy, great kindness. If not, we might have to carry back two corpses today.”

Old He uttered the words ‘two corpses’ so softly, but even that whisper resonated in my ears like a thunderclap. The twin serpents of frustration and guilt, those persistent tormentors, had coiled around my heart, squeezing me relentlessly.

“What now? Should we keep searching for Hua Jinlan’s body to see if she showed up?” Old He asked, still without a plan.

I nodded, forcing myself to focus. While searching for the body, I scanned our surroundings, noting what horrifying additions had appeared in this transformed world.

Overall, this place had become hell. The sky was red, the earth was black, the trees were withered, and even the roadside grass was a messy patch of sickly yellow decay. It seemed that apart from Old He and me, every living thing connected to this land had lost its life. However, the atmosphere in the air bore a ninety percent similarity to the night we hunted Scarface.

“Found her,” Old He crouched down in the withered grass about five meters away from me, using his hands to brush aside the dead leaves and grass. A corner of a blue floral cloth began to emerge from beneath the pile.

I hurried over, crouched beside Old He, and used my hands to clear the mound of grass. A pale-faced female corpse lay quietly beneath. Her clothes were neat, her shoes and hat still in place; her head was tilted to one side, a diagonal gash slicing across her neck. The wound had long since dried of blood, leaving only stark white flesh exposed.