Chapter 11: "The Village Burial"
No one noticed Li Zhi’s movements—except Xu Shu at the front, who tilted his head slightly before forcing himself to look away.
The shadow on Zhu Zhibo’s back wasn’t tall. Hunched, neck slightly extended, its head was unnaturally large.
The land god shrine, their destination for the night ritual, stood just a few hundred meters ahead. The path had no forks now; they only needed to walk straight. After surveying the surroundings, Li Zhi slowed her pace, closing the gap with Gao Shijun before whispering, "Move ahead of me."
Gao Shijun didn’t understand why, but Li Zhi was clearly the smartest in the group. If she said so, there had to be a reason! He quickly swapped places with her.
Lian Qinglin watched as Li Zhi suddenly appeared in front of him. Before he could ask, she switched positions with him too.
The others finally noticed her shuffling. The relaxed chatter vanished instantly, replaced by tension—especially for Zhu Zhibo, who sensed trouble the moment Li Zhi stepped in front of him.
"Teacher Zhu," Li Zhi asked calmly, "do you know how to do a shoulder throw?"
Zhu Zhibo’s teeth chattered. "Y-Yes…"
"Don’t panic. Follow my lead." She tilted her lantern, casting light to the side. "On the count of three, okay?"
Zhu Zhibo finally saw the overlapping shadow at his feet.
Before, he’d only felt sore and exhausted. Now, awareness crashed over him—the weight on his back, the hands on his shoulders, the legs wrapped around his waist.
His nape prickled with terror. He glanced down and saw the feet swaying at his waist with each step.
Black cloth shoes. Swollen, pale feet.
The old woman who’d hung from the willow tree this morning.
"Teacher Zhu!" Li Zhi’s sharp voice snapped him out of his fear. "One!"
Rage surged through him. Out of everyone, why target me?!
Muscles tensed, he braced—only for Li Zhi to shout, "Throw!"
Wait, where was two and three?!
Zhu Zhibo moved faster than ever. Hands shot back, gripping icy limbs, and he hurled the thing forward with all his strength.
The old woman slammed onto the ground.
Now he saw her clearly: bloated body, bloodshot bulging eyes, wrinkled blue-purple face. Dressed in a bulky black coat, her head wrapped in a dark scarf, making it seem oversized.
Her eyes burned with malice as she staggered upright.
Everything happened too fast. Before the others could react, Li Zhi yelled, "Run to the shrine!"
They sprinted without looking back.
The shrine was only 200-300 meters away, but after running, Li Zhi realized something was wrong. The shrine remained distant, like a desert mirage.
Fog thickened around her. The guiding lanterns along the path had vanished.
Silence. She was alone.
Li Zhi didn’t know if the others were trapped too. She gathered stones, arranging them into a marker, then walked straight ahead.
Her sense of direction was impeccable. She knew she wasn’t circling—yet ten minutes later, her stone marker reappeared five steps ahead.
Folklore said ghost walls made people walk in circles unknowingly.
She tried again. Five steps, another marker. Same result.
Trying to exhaust me to death?
Kneeling by the stones, she pondered solutions—when hurried footsteps approached. The fog dissipated abruptly.
Chi Yi, drenched in sweat, gasped in relief at the sight of her. "Zhi Zhi! I was trapped too!"
The shrine now stood right before them. The others emerged nearby, all panting, having run in circles around the clearing.
No one was missing. The old woman had vanished.
Li Zhi frowned. "This ghost wall appeared and disappeared randomly. What was the point? Toying with us?"
Chi Yi whispered, "Maybe it was just a prankster ghost?"
Gao Shijun cut in, "Who cares? We’re alive! Let’s finish this and go back!"
The ritual’s final step was offering incense and burning joss paper before the land god statue. The shrine, like Guanping Village, was decrepit—even the statue’s paint had peeled, stripping it of dignity.
Xu Shu placed offerings on the altar. They knelt, completed the rites, and finally exhaled in relief.
The courtyard they’d once feared now felt like sanctuary.
The return path couldn’t retrace their steps. They detoured around the village’s outskirts, moving briskly.
Passing a dried-up pond, they heard ragged breathing.
A figure knelt at the bank, hunched over, clawing at the mud with stiff, unnatural motions.
Lian Qinglin hissed, "Go! Before it notices us!"
They tiptoed past, hearts pounding—but the thing never pursued them.
When the white funeral lanterns at the village chief’s gate came into view, Chi Yi nearly wept. "Never thought I’d be so happy to see this place."
Is this damn dungeon gaslighting us?
They pushed the half-open gate—and jumped at the figure waiting inside.
Recognizing him, they relaxed. Li Zhi arched a brow. "Mr. Li? Why are you still here?"
Li Jianxi’s gaze swept over them. "Your shoes are dirty. Clean them before entering."
They glanced down, puzzled.
The day’s rain had turned paths to mud. Their shoes had been filthy since chopping wood earlier—why the sudden fuss now?
Still, no one argued. A water vat sat by the firewood pile. They fetched water and scrubbed their shoes on the stone threshold.
Li Zhi’s eyes narrowed. She studied Li Jianxi, their gazes meeting briefly before his flicked away.
She sat, removing her shoes. Mud and burnt paper ash caked the soles.
Her gaze drifted to the others’ footwear—then froze.
One pair wasn’t smeared with ash-streaked mud.
Only thick, black sludge.
Li Zhi said nothing. After a beat, she stood and walked inside.
Gao Shijun called after her, "Hey! Your shoes—"
"Grabbing something," she replied.
Li Jianxi didn’t stop her. Moments later, she returned—holding the black cat.
The others paled. "What are you doing?! Put it back! It’ll wake the corpse!"
Li Zhi smiled—then dropped the cat into the coffin.
Meow—
Xu Shu shot up. "Have you lost your mind?!"
Bone creaks echoed from the coffin.
The village chief sat up like rusted machinery, joints popping, his stiffened spine straightening inch by inch.
For most, this was their first time seeing a corpse reanimate. Terror locked them in place.
The village chief’s lips curled into that eerie smile. Clouded eyes scanned for prey—
Until Li Zhi’s voice rang out, dramatic and indignant:
"Dad! A ghost invaded your territory to bully us!"
Village Chief: "…?"
Players: "…?"
Li Jianxi: "…………"
The corpse’s smile twitched. Li Zhi pointed squarely at one "person" among them, her tone fierce:
"One courtyard can’t hold two ghosts! How dare it trespass on your land and steal your offerings? Unforgivable!"
The village chief’s eyes rolled upward, locking onto her target with murderous intent.