Uncle Ye told me that the three gem-like objects were indeed the sarira left behind by the old Master. The largest was about the size of a thumbnail, and the smallest was no bigger than a pinky fingernail. All three were a vibrant emerald green, appearing crystal clear, much like true emeralds.

I held them cupped in my palm, sensing something contained within them, something that brought an intense sense of calm to my core. Uncle Ye picked up the smallest one and addressed us, "The rest, each of you take one and keep it close to your body."

As I gestured for Pi Hou'er to take one, I asked, "What are these for?"

"Master had instructed before that the things he left behind could protect us to a certain extent. I presume he meant these," Uncle Ye said, his expression heavy with sorrow.

"How... how do we use these?" Pi Hou'er hesitated before asking.

Uncle Ye told us with great solemnity, "The sarira should rightfully be enshrined. Master condensed his own inherent power into these three relics specifically to shield us from being haunted by malevolent spirits. However, in his view, that ghost was incredibly powerful, so Master himself was unsure if the sarira could truly counter it. We can only try for now. As long as you keep them close, and sincerely recite the Prajnaparamita Heart Sutra at the critical moment, it will surely offer some help..."

Afterward, he recited the entire Heart Sutra aloud, then made Pi Hou'er and me memorize it until we knew it by heart.

After ensuring we could recite it perfectly, he sighed and asked, "What are your plans now?"

To be honest, at that moment, Pi Hou'er and I felt utterly lost, unsure whether to continue investigating or simply wait for death.

It seemed Uncle Ye discerned our thoughts, as he offered us a wry smile and said, "There is something I need to trouble you both with..."

I was taken aback. If it hadn't been for Uncle Ye, Pi Hou'er and I might not even be alive. Since he asked, I naturally replied, "Tell us, what do you need us to do?"

"I want to ask you, when you have the chance, to try and find Wen Mo," Uncle Ye finally managed to say after a moment of hesitation.

"That..." Pi Hou'er and I couldn't readily agree.

Ye Wen Mo had gone abroad, and neither Pi Hou'er nor I had any means to travel overseas at the time.

Seemingly understanding the reason for our hesitation, Uncle Ye didn't press the matter, merely suggesting we should rehydrate and eat something first.

If he hadn't mentioned it, it wouldn't have been so noticeable, but once he did, Pi Hou'er and I realized we were physically and mentally exhausted to the extreme.

After eating and drinking, it took a full day for our bodies to recover even slightly.

Hearing Uncle Ye say that staying at the temple for the time being would likely be safer, neither of us dared to rush off to make plans to leave.

After this, Uncle Ye explained his idea further. Only then did we understand that the reason he wanted us to find Ye Wen Mo was entirely because he hoped to entrust the sarira he held to Wen Mo, to protect his future life.

In Uncle Ye's estimation, as long as he wasn't killed by the ghost now, Ye Wen Mo would be safe.

Pi Hou'er and I didn't entirely believe his reasoning at the time, but we desperately hoped it was true. However, immediately afterward, a new worry surfaced: my parents were still back in our hometown. Their safety...

I couldn't bear to think further, and ultimately, I decided I had to go home for a visit.

Pi Hou'er wanted to come with me, but eventually decided against it. Our compromise was that I would go check on my parents, while he stayed behind to see if there was any way to locate Ye Wen Mo.

Pi Hou'er was extremely reluctant, but there was nothing to be done; after all, Uncle Ye was our savior, and his Master had passed away precisely because he saved us.

Of course, this was just my own speculation; I hadn't confirmed it with Uncle Ye.

Perhaps due to carrying the sarira, although the journey back to the hometown was arduous, I didn't encounter anything terrifying.

However, the very instant I stepped onto the narrow path leading into the village, my heart clenched suddenly, and a chill ran through me—it felt as if something dreadful had occurred.

Unconsciously, I quickened my pace until I saw movement near the village entrance; only then did my heart settle slightly.

As soon as I reached the village entrance, I saw Uncle Guang, a villager who lived next door to us. He was walking inward.

I called out to him, and as he turned around, his expression shifted from shock and delight upon seeing me, to a sudden melancholy.

I immediately sensed something was wrong and hurried over, asking if something had happened.

I remember it vividly: when I reached him, Uncle Guang first murmured softly, "It's good that you're back..."

Immediately following that, he raised his hand and delivered a fierce slap across my face.

Uncle Guang was a neighbor and an elder; for him to strike me, all I could manage was bewilderment, I didn't even dare to speak.

Yet, I noticed that after hitting me, the corners of his own eyes had become wet. Before I could ask, Uncle Guang, wiping his eyes, told me, "Hurry home and see. Something has happened at your house..."

Walking and listening to Uncle Guang's account, I finally learned the story of what had transpired after I left.

I hadn't realized I had returned too late... Uncle Guang's slap was because I had left without leaving any way for anyone to find me; he was furious...

My family owned two mu of land. After I left, Father would work the fields during the day, while Mother handled chores at home, bringing Father lunch once, then returning to manage things until she prepared dinner for Father’s return.

Day after day passed like this.

Until one evening, when Father returned home, the moment he stepped inside, he discovered Mother submerged halfway into the large water storage vat, having drowned hours earlier...

Afterward, Father became somewhat erratic, constantly muttering that Mother had returned, that she was inside the house, waiting to pull him away with her, words to that effect. He became unable to stay at home and spent his days wandering aimlessly around the village.

Out of options, Uncle Guang consulted with the other villagers, and they decided to confine Father to the empty woodshed at Uncle Guang's place. They brought him food at set times and ensured someone took turns watching him to prevent any incidents.

To be frank, if this situation had occurred before, I would have considered Uncle Guang's actions excessively harsh. But knowing the power of that place, I was instead deeply grateful that Uncle Guang had done this.

The grief over Mother’s death was momentarily suppressed by the immediate concern for Father’s condition. Although sorrow welled up in my heart, I managed to hold it back.

As I followed Uncle Guang to his woodshed, a young man was crouched by the doorway, leaning against the wall, a hand-rolled cigarette dangling from his lips. Seeing us, he hurriedly stood up, tossed the cigarette to the ground, ground it out with his foot, and called out to Uncle Guang, "Dad."

I paid him no mind, watching as Uncle Guang opened the door. I impolitely squeezed past him and rushed inside.

The interior was terribly dark. Even though the sunlight outside was brilliant, the moment I entered, the space immediately grew dim.

"Dad... Dad..."

I called out, my eyes unable to adjust immediately to the change in light. The woodshed wasn't large; after taking a few steps inside, I could just make out the scene within. I noticed something writhing in the corner.

I instinctively called out again, "Dad... I'm back..."

As I spoke, the sudden wave of sorrow I felt upon seeing my father magnified instantly, and my voice caught with emotion. But when I finally saw my father clearly, every emotion other than sheer horror vanished.