Volume Two: The Secret Burial in the Gorge Chapter 109: The Ghost Sacrifice

At that moment, as the earth dragon slithered out from inside the donkey, the donkey staggered to its feet, trembling uncontrollably on all four legs. Its body was wet and bedraggled, as if doused with water.

Third Uncle looked at the donkey calmly and said, “It seems we’ve meddled in someone’s affairs.”

I was puzzled and asked, “Third Uncle, whose affairs have we disturbed? Why is there a donkey at the village entrance?”

“Fool,” Liang Yue pretended to analyze. “Obviously, someone deliberately placed the donkey here.”

“Mind your own business; I didn’t ask you,” I shot her a glare.

Unexpectedly, Third Uncle nodded in agreement. “Miss Liang is right. This donkey was indeed placed here intentionally. It might even be a sacrificial offering to ghosts.”

“A ghostly sacrifice? What’s that?”

“It’s an offering made to ghosts. In ancient China, sacrifices referred to livestock used in rituals. Pure-colored animals were called ‘sacrifice,’ while whole animals were called ‘livestock.’ Generally, offerings to gods and Buddhas involved cows, sheep, and pigs—collectively known as the Three Sacrifices. But when it came to ghosts, donkeys were often used. Compared to those three, donkeys are more lively and vigorous, and their blood is colder, which ghosts prefer. Donkeys can usually see ghosts, and when a ghost approaches, a donkey becomes agitated. That’s why it was kicking wildly earlier—that was it trying to fend off the ghost. When it fell, the ghost had already mounted its back. The donkey frantically rubbed its back on the ground, attempting to shake the ghost off. This phenomenon is called ‘donkey beating its back.’ Within our circle, seeing a donkey behave like this means encountering something unclean.”

Third Uncle’s explanation sent a chill through our hearts. It seemed this matter involved not only the earth dragon but also ghosts. Judging by this, the people of Nanliu Village must have placed the donkey here as a ghostly offering.

At first, I thought Nanliu Village was just an ordinary settlement, but now I wasn’t so sure.

Third Uncle turned his ear towards the village, listening carefully. It was very quiet, utterly silent.

Masu also said, “This is strange. There’s not a sound in the village. Normally, there would be dogs barking.”

This time, Third Uncle surprisingly didn’t argue with Masu but nodded. “Indeed, something’s off. Let’s go into the village and have a look.”

After this incident, none of us felt assured. We huddled together, shining our flashlights, and stepped into the village from the entrance.

It was only a few dozen steps inside when suddenly the light above seemed to dim drastically.

I looked up at the sky; the moon hung high, casting a clear, bright glow.

Yet, the same moonlight differed greatly just a few meters between outside and inside the village. Could the village really be abnormal?

Walking along the village road, the only sound was our footsteps—no other noises. This silence was terrifying, a lifeless stillness that sent shivers down the spine.

I wonder if anyone has felt this—such dead silence instinctively tightens the nerves, body and mind unwittingly tensely coiled.

I was very scared; this tautness in my nerves felt like it could snap at any moment.

Thankfully, there were four of us, or I might have fled in panic by now.

Third Uncle shone his flashlight around and headed toward the nearest house.

He peered through the window, shook his head, and returned to say the house was empty.

We checked several other houses with the same result—no one inside.

Liang Yue asked, “Could it be that everyone has left the village? No one lives here anymore?”

Third Uncle stood beneath the eaves and gently pushed a door slightly ajar. It creaked as he opened it.

The room was desolate. Third Uncle touched the windowsill, shining his light around. “There’s barely any dust, and the necessary household items and furniture are all here, neatly arranged. It doesn’t look abandoned. It seems whoever lived here left not long ago.”

Liang Yue shook her head. “That’s strange. Where could everyone have gone?”

We stepped out and returned to the widest main road in the village.

Following the road a little farther, we came upon a small clearing with several large trees whose branches formed a dense canopy. Stone benches lay beneath, likely a common gathering spot for villagers. Nearby stood an ancient stone well, topped with an old-fashioned pulley.

We decided to wait here a while, hoping someone might come out. Also, it was safer to spot any sudden dangers.

But as we approached, an eerie fog began to fill the village.

A chill ran down my spine. Past experiences had taught me that sudden fog was never a good sign. According to Third Uncle, fog could be a natural phenomenon—or, more likely, it signaled a gathering of malevolent spirits and a surge in dark energy.

Given tonight’s events, the latter seemed far more probable.

Sure enough, as the fog thickened, Third Uncle shouted, “Be careful! Don’t get separated. One after another!”

No sooner had he spoken than Tie Zhu, the dog who had been listlessly trailing us, suddenly barked sharply and darted into the fog like an arrow. Within moments, it had vanished. We could hear its barks at first, but then silence.

“Tie Zhu...” I called twice, but got no reply. Frustrated, I cursed, “That dumb dog—what’s gotten into it?”

Masu, walking ahead, replied, “I told you, Tie Zhu is a Xuanyuan hound, with the sharpest sight. It’s not crazy; it must have spotted something and went after it.”

“Everyone, quiet! This village isn’t right. Let’s get out of here quickly,” Third Uncle warned loudly, turning toward the village entrance.

The fog thickened, heavy with moisture as if you could wring water from it. Third Uncle’s serious tone made us all tense.

Because of the fog, none of us could find our bearings. Fortunately, Masu carried a compass, which he held out for us to follow.

We quickened our pace, following him toward the village exit.

Masu and Third Uncle led the way, with Liang Yue behind them, and I brought up the rear.

It wasn’t that I was slow, but I worried about Tie Zhu. It had dashed into the fog and never returned.

I looked back, eyes filled with the gray mist. Not only was the dog gone, but the path beneath my feet was barely visible.

When I turned forward again, Third Uncle and the others had disappeared from sight.

I hurried after them, guided by memory of their direction. After only a few steps, I caught sight of Liang Yue’s figure flickering ahead.

I breathed a sigh of relief and ran toward her.

After running with Liang Yue for a while, I suddenly felt something was very wrong.

(End of chapter)