Old He and Xiao Shu had long since vanished; I circled the courtyard front to back without spotting a trace of them. The entire residence was profoundly quiet. Granny sat rocking gently in her chair, while Ali and Xing'er lay snoring at her feet.

Seeing that I hadn't agreed and was merely searching for people, Granny guessed some of the mystery. Without showing any change in expression, she said, "They must be in the ancestral hall. You should go too. My business isn't urgent; wait until that girl is subdued."

I let out an "en," turned, and ran toward the ancestral hall.

By this time, the sun had already dipped behind the mountains. The last sliver of the afterglow grew shorter and finer, condensing into a single ray that vanished where the mountain met the sky. I raced along the narrow village path; the surroundings were utterly silent—no cooking smoke, no lights, no roosters crowing or dogs barking. The entire village seemed lifeless, as if dead.

Normally, I would only wonder where everyone had gone. But now, with my heart pounding with worry that Hua Jinlan might start a massacre, every empty house I passed conjured up visions of slaughter, impossible to shake. I cursed my own short legs for not being able to instantly fly to the hall.

I finally reached the entrance to the ancestral hall, breathless and winded. The hall itself was brightly lit, but outside, a dark crowd stood, just like the night we captured Scarface. Each person gripped a sickle, adorned with dangling strips of red cloth. The Village Head ordered a table moved to the center of the courtyard before the hall. He then tossed aside his cane, climbed onto the table, held his sickle aloft in one hand, and steadied himself by holding the shoulder of the person next to him. Standing above the crowd, he shouted in a booming voice:

"For hundreds of years, generation after generation, we have battled the demons of the Corpse Realm, the Ghost Realm, and the Netherworld. Only through the blessings of our ancestors have we secured this peaceful and tranquil life, prospering smoothly for dozens of generations. Today, a vengeful spirit dares to challenge us, seeking to take all our lives and cast the village into an abyss of suffering. We must not yield, we must not retreat! We must raise our weapons and fight for the precious lives bestowed upon us by Heaven! Even if only one person remains, the mission must be completed: to send the vengeful spirit back into the cycle of reincarnation!"

As soon as the words faded, cheers erupted from all sides. Everyone brandished their sickles, shouting in unison, "Capture the vengeful spirit, send it to reincarnation! Capture the vengeful spirit, send it to reincarnation..."

Just as the Village Head finished his rousing speech, a cold arrow shot out in the pale moonlight, whistling past the Village Head's face and flying backward. It pierced the air precisely to strike the electric light hanging from the eaves of the roof.

With a sharp crack, the bulb exploded, scattering fragments into the crowd. Then came several cries of "Ah... ah... ah..." In the moonlight, four or five people collapsed, clutching their foreheads.

"Five, six, seven, eight, nine..."

I stood frozen outside the ancestral hall, as a familiar voice began counting, slowly approaching from behind me. This voice was unmistakable—it could only be Wang Jue. I stood rigidly, afraid to look back, terrified that doing so would be the last time I saw him.

Wang Jue strode past me, sickle in hand, heading directly toward the Village Head inside the hall. Reaching the table, he braced one hand on it, lightly balanced on his toes, and leaped onto the surface, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the Village Head.

The Village Head took a deep breath, showed no hesitation, and brought his sickle down in a fierce chop toward Wang Jue. Wang Jue didn't even look at him, merely sidestepped the strike slightly, grabbed the Village Head's wrist, twisted him around, and began to speak.

"Everyone must be wondering why I chose Miao Village. Ten years ago—how many of you still remember that night? The night the man-eating Nether-Insects rampaged, my father stood alone at the village entrance, holding a torch, letting the insects crawl onto his body, enduring excruciating pain to lead them out of the village so that you all could survive. Afterwards, not only did no one express gratitude, but many people actually said he deserved what he got!"

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