Chapter 103: Joyful Wedding, Mourning Cry 34
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Once Yan Shixun successfully sneaked into the courtyard, he discreetly blended in with the villagers.
Since the failed attempt to trap the skeletons in the courtyard of the farmhouse with talismans while being chased by corpses earlier, he realized that he could no longer use any talismans. It was as if he was in a place untouched by divine influence.
Despite his weakened powers, Yan Shixun remained calm. On the contrary, he turned his original disadvantage into an advantage.
Unable to use talismans and lacking in personal strength, it was precisely because of this that he was able to enter the courtyard without arousing suspicion from the surrounding villagers.
During the daytime, when Jiang Yanran led him into the courtyard and let go of his hand, all the villagers noticed his presence.
After leaving the courtyard during the day, Yan Shixun pondered for a long time. It wasn’t until he saw the villagers handing over something that he finally figured out the reason like a sudden enlightenment.
Yin energy.
During the day, because he had abundant yang energy in his body, he stood out so conspicuously in the courtyard where events from decades ago were unfolding, attracting the villagers’ attention. When Jiang Yanran held his hand, her excessive yin energy masked his presence, thus avoiding the villagers’ scrutiny.
Now, Yan Shixun’s yang energy had dropped to the lowest level that a normal living person could have. Additionally, because he carried the flower given to him by Jiang Yanran, yin energy replaced yang energy, making him less conspicuous to the villagers.
So, as he stood in the courtyard, all the villagers were engrossed in their own conversations, laughing and chatting about the upcoming wedding and the new bride-to-be, paying no attention to Yan Shixun.
This gave Yan Shixun great convenience.
Similar to what he had seen during the day, wooden boxes containing dowries and betrothal gifts were placed beside the well, stacked so high that they almost completely obscured the well.
However, during the day, Yan Shixun had not missed the opportunity to glance at the well while examining those wooden boxes. He would never forget it. What he saw during the day was an abandoned well, overgrown with weeds, long dried up, without any other particularly noteworthy features.
But now, it was different—
The well had eight sides and five edges, symbolizing the Eight Trigrams and the Five Elements, imbued with the secrets of Yin and Yang, and each side bore independent inscriptions of talismans. On the main side, the one facing directly toward the courtyard gate, there were several bold characters engraved in a flamboyant style: “The Supreme Lord Laozi’s Ghost-Dispelling Well.”
Unlike the well in the backyard of the village head’s house in Jia Village, which was intended for sending unjust souls to the afterlife, the well now before Yan Shixun had been severely damaged and served a different purpose—not for salvation, not for exorcism, but for killing ghosts.
It came with fierce momentum, showing no mercy.
However, for some reason, the well’s original cover stone, which was supposed to be intact, was severely damaged, shattered into pieces. The central part showed signs of explosion and burning, charred black like charcoal, indicating extensive fire damage.
Yan Shixun could vaguely make out from the remaining inscriptions that it once bore the words “Family Tomb Village.”
Only fragments remained of the words “Family Tomb Village,” with several incomplete strokes barely preserved.
Yan Shixun squatted beside the well, his palm resting on the broken well stone. With lowered eyes, his fingers traced the burnt marks, as if reconstructing the appearance of the well when it was still intact.
The art of divination was intricate and ever-changing, but it also meant that any slight damage to the formation would greatly diminish its effectiveness.
Under his palm, the well’s eight sides still bore intact talismans, but the destroyed well stone signified that whatever it had guarded against had already escaped.
The notion of killing ghosts had become nothing but empty words.
The suppressed evil spirit, in its long wait, had nurtured its resentment into deeper hatred.
With blood-red eyes, the vengeful spirit gazed endlessly at the well’s mouth, unable to escape. In solitude, it dredged up memories and images from its past life, deepening its hatred with each repetition.
When the ghost-suppressing well failed, nothing could stop the vengeful spirit’s revenge.
And now…
Yan Shixun’s slender fingers trembled slightly as they traced back along the inscription “Family Tomb Village” on the well stone, reaching the central scar.
The damage inflicted wasn’t caused by human hands.
Nor by sharp weapons or raging flames.
It was a lightning strike.
There’s a common belief that when someone commits a grave sin, divine punishment in the form of lightning may strike them down. Some even swear by the phrase “Five Thunderbolts Descend,” and Taoist teachings suggest that mastery of the Five Thunder Spells requires righteousness.
Indeed, lightning strikes are one of the methods of heaven’s judgment.
While the heavens may seem indifferent, there are moments when they display wrath.
The lightning strike destroyed the town’s wellhead, rendering its original function ineffective.
Yan Shixun was well aware that regardless of which vengeful spirit the well intended to kill, it had now broken free from its original constraints, becoming a more powerful entity, and was now striking back with deep-seated resentment towards the mortal realm.
And Yan Shixun also recalled what Yang Tu had told him, the reason why this village was renamed as Family Tomb Village.
It could be surmised that the person who built this well years ago knew very well what they were facing, and just like the master who had renamed JFamily Tomb Village before, they showed no mercy.
Yan Shixun smirked silently, a mocking smile playing on his lips.
His colleagues… could see the world, but couldn’t grasp the greater truth.
Some of them thought they could just follow the rules of nature and be faultless. They believed that as long as they protected the living and vanquished the spirits, they had fulfilled their duties.
Yet beneath the surface, karma always silently flowed in cycles.
The ghosts were once human too.
Temporary attachments and resentments kept them lingering, turning into vengeful ghosts haunting the mortal realm.
—No questions about reasons, only allegiance.
Did any of those colleagues ever stop to consider what they truly should have upheld?
Yan Shixun rose slowly, his gaze half-lowered as he looked at the well, his eyes filled with complex emotions.
The past was set in stone, and what he saw now might not even be real. He couldn’t prevent what hadn’t yet happened, so all he could do was try to change the outcome.
For example—where was the vengeful spirit that had been suppressed beneath the well?
Lost in thought, Yan Shixun stood out starkly amidst the villagers who were laughing and rejoicing around him.
Yang Tu, standing anxiously on the sidelines, prayed fervently for Yan Shixun to quickly resolve the situation and take him away from there. He nervously watched the familiar yet unfamiliar faces in the courtyard.
They had once been acquaintances, relatives, but that was all half a year ago.
Just moments ago, Yang Tu had seen many of them lying lifeless in every village house, still laid out in the yet-to-be-removed mourning hall, their faces pale and stiff, their bodies decaying.
But now, they moved freely before Yang Tu, dressed in elaborate clothing, their faces filled with joy as they chatted and congratulated each other.
It looked like any ordinary village wedding, as if nothing was amiss.
That is, if the premise was that Yang Tu hadn’t seen their lifeless bodies with his own eyes.
He wanted to call for Yan Shixun, unable to bear it any longer and wanting desperately to leave the courtyard.
However, despite not traveling with Yan Shixun for long, Yang Tu had learned quite a bit. He knew that acting rashly would only lead to wrong results, or worse, put them in danger. Besides, whatever he tried to do, Yan Shixun could always reel him back just as he was about to act.
Yang Tu didn’t want to experience that feeling of being unable to break free from Yan Shixun’s grasp again. It made him feel like a helpless chick with its neck caught in the jaws of a vicious dog, flapping its wings in vain.
So, just before he was about to speak up, he remembered Yan Shixun’s instructions and decided to keep quiet. Instead, he took two steps forward, intending to reach out and tap Yan Shixun’s shoulder to inquire.
However, due to his highly tense nerves, Yang Tu didn’t pay attention to the path beneath his feet and accidentally kicked a nearby wooden crate.
“Bang!”
The dull sound of the heavy object being kicked reverberated.
The villagers around, who had been laughing and chatting moments ago, all froze in place. They stiffened like well-wound machines, slowly turning their heads to look at Yang Tu with expressionless faces.
The joyous expressions on the villagers’ faces vanished instantly. Their eyes, once lively, now stared rigidly at Yang Tu. Two bright red blushes adorned their cheeks, contrasting sharply with their pale faces. The smiles that had adorned their lips earlier now disappeared completely, replaced by tight, thin lines.
The sudden scrutiny from all directions startled Yang Tu, making his heart pound and his body break out in cold sweat.
—— However, before entering the courtyard, Yan Shixun had instructed him not to show too much emotional fluctuation. It would release too much Yang energy, which would not only be detrimental to himself but also attract the attention of more supernatural beings.
Almost immediately, Yan Shixun sensed that something was amiss in the courtyard. He swiftly turned around and saw Yang Tu standing anxiously near the stack of dowry crates, surrounded by villagers whose gazes were fixed on him with rigid intensity.
They had been discovered.
Yan Shixun’s eyes darkened, and without hesitation, he grabbed Yang Tu and briskly walked towards the nearest room.
He maintained a steady heartbeat and expression, showing no signs of being startled or serious. His breathing remained calm, devoid of any indication of alarm or severity.
“Relax, Yang Tu,” Yan Shixun’s voice was lowered, its magnetic tone carrying a subtle vibration. “Keep breathing, let your emotions settle back to normal levels, and don’t make eye contact with those things.”
For some reason, although Yang Tu was being held by Yan Shixun, he felt an inexplicable sense of reassurance, as if having Yan Shixun by his side prevented him from being overwhelmed by panic.
After Yan Shixun spoke, Yang Tu immediately felt like he had found his anchor. Following Yan Shixun’s instructions, he slowly relaxed his breathing and tried to calm his racing heartbeat.
Without glancing sideways, Yan Shixun calmly planted his long legs and swiftly but composedly walked through the courtyard, heading straight to the door of the adjacent side room. He extended his palm, gently pushing open the door.
The gazes of the villagers followed the movements of the two, observing them closely wherever they went.
After quickly scanning the dilapidated yet seemingly temporarily safe scene inside the room, Yan Shixun decisively lifted Yang Tu over the threshold, then reached back to close the door behind them.
The half-rotten wooden door, already eroded by wind and rain, slowly closed behind Yan Shixuan, cutting off the silent and stiff gazes of the villagers outside.
*Click*, the door closed.
Yang Tu suddenly slumped down onto the floor, covered in thick dust, and took quite some time to regain his senses.
“B-Brother Yan, did I mess up again?” Yang Tu’s voice trembled as he expressed remorse. “I’m sorry, Brother Yan, I didn’t mean to. I-I was just too nervous.”
Yan Shixun’s peripheral vision glanced over Yang Tu, but he didn’t reach out to help him up. Instead, he strode forward, straightened a chair that had been overturned on the floor. After quickly wiping off the dust with a handkerchief, he calmly took a seat, sitting upright on the old chair, and looked down at Yang Tu, still sitting on the floor.
Yang Tu continued to apologize incessantly, looking visibly guilty.
But Yan Shixun’s attention had shifted away from him and into the room.
Since he pushed open the door just now, Yan Shixun had keenly sensed a familiar scent lingering in the room. However, whenever he tried to explore further, the scent would vanish.
It was as if someone had been sitting in this room, coldly observing the bustling festivities outside, while being engulfed in the desolation and dust of an old cemetery, almost merging with the silence and loneliness.
Until Yan Shixun pushed open the door, disrupting the previous balance, but also breaking the silence, allowing fresh air to rush in.
So the person calmly stood up, casting one last indifferent glance at Yan Shixun before turning away, unwilling to say more.
Yan Shixun wouldn’t dismiss it as a mere illusion. He was convinced that there must be something in this room that could prove the existence of the person who had just been there.
But when he closed the door and stood at the entrance, peering inside, his gaze swept across the entire room without finding anything.
So Yan Shixun changed his perspective.
He imagined himself as the person who had been in the room just now, sitting in the center of the room, and then, from this perspective, he scanned the room.
The room, untouched by human presence for many years, had its roof tiles corroded and fallen off, covered in dust and cobwebs.
With scarcely any furniture, the room looked dilapidated and seemingly devoid of any value.
But this didn’t seem right.
Considering this was his third visit to the courtyard, Yan Shixun was already certain that this was the scene of Yang Duo’s wedding.
After the illusion of the first visit and the glimpse of reality during the second, Yan Shixun had seen the true state of the courtyard: overgrown with weeds and desolate.
The third time around, from the outside appearance of the courtyard and the main house, there was no difference from his first visit. Everywhere was filled with laughter and joy, a scene of peace and celebration.
But upon pushing open the door to this room, it felt as though a beautiful illusion had been cruelly torn apart, revealing the ugly, decaying truth within.
Yan Shixun couldn’t help but wonder—why was this room so different from the others? What made it special?
Furrowing his brow, Yan Shixun meticulously examined every corner of the room, trying to piece together the information conveyed by each object and reconstruct the truth.
The walls of the room had turned moldy, a sickly shade of greenish-black. Against one wall sat a small wooden bed, its mattress-like object long decayed into a disgusting, yellowed mess. Next to the bed, on the floor, lay an overturned chamber pot amidst scattered straw.
It hardly resembled a bedroom at all, more like a stable.
But then, Yan Shixun suddenly realized something. His gaze, which had momentarily wandered, sharpened again as he looked back at the wooden bed.
Wait a minute!
Behind the wooden bed, he noticed something unexpected—the wall was adorned with iron chains.
Yan Shixun immediately rose from his chair and strode over to the bed, bending down to examine it closely.
Yang Tu’s incessant apologies came to an abrupt halt as he watched Yan Shixun’s actions with surprise and confusion. “Brother Yan?”
Yan Shixun didn’t have time to acknowledge him. He simply leaned in closer to the wall, running his fingers over it carefully.
There were iron rings nailed to the wall, connected to a roughly one-meter-long iron chain. At the end of the chain was a hoop, about the thickness of an adult woman’s wrist, currently open. So Yan Shixun could clearly see the dark brown stains encircling the inside of the hoop.
It was as if this iron hoop had once been clasped around someone’s wrist, firmly anchoring them in this bed and the surrounding space of about a meter. The sharp, rough iron ring continued to chafe the wrist, causing blood to accumulate inside it, layer upon layer, oxidizing and becoming uneven, dotted with tiny bumps.
Every drop of blood seemed like a desperate but futile resistance, attempting to remove the iron hoop and escape confinement, yet like a beast tethered here, unable to break free.
They could only watch the narrow sky outside the window day by day, growing increasingly desperate and decayed.
The iron chain had long become fragile under the corrosion of time, almost crumbling into powder at the slightest touch, losing its former deterrent power. And the person who was once tethered here was no longer present, leaving behind only the bed and the residual bloodstains on the walls.
The wall had already developed mold stains over many years of leakage, with the greenish-black color almost covering the entire surface. So, at first glance, Yan Shixun did not notice anything unusual about the wall.
It wasn’t until now, as he approached, that he noticed the unevenness of the wall, with many large patches of brownish bloodstains beneath the greenish-black surface, and even several splattered blood spots.
However, after years of corrosion, these bloodstains had merged with the mold, making it difficult to discern their original appearance.
But there were still other identifiable traces.
Yan Shixun’s fingers, which had been probing the wall, paused, and his tall figure bent down, stiffening for a moment.
…. The wall was densely covered with shallowly engraved words, layer upon layer, from the wall near the bed to a small section nearby.
Yan Shixun lowered his gaze, focusing on the texture he felt beneath his fingertips, deciphering the jumbled strokes to understand the messages they conveyed.
Initially, closest to the bed, the wall was filled with phrases like “Help me, call the police”, “Let me go”, “The demon, the demon is here again”, “Uncle”, and so on. Judging from their position and height, they were almost within reach of someone lying on the bed.
As the text spread to the side, the content changed. More of it now read, “Let me go home, Uncle is waiting for me, I want to go home”, “Who will save me?”, “Why me?”, “Go to hell, you will get what you deserve!”, and so on.
The strokes became increasingly disordered, and the meaning conveyed by the words became more chaotic and inverted. From between the lines, one could easily sense the desperation of the person who left these words, suppressed to the point of suffocation.
Around those strokes, faint brown spots could be discerned. Combining the shallow nature of the strokes, Yan Shixun frowned and made a conjecture.
It seemed that these words were all traced by someone using their own fingertips.
Without any tools, one could only resort to the most primitive method, leaving behind their own fragmented words and phrases, disregarding the blurred flesh and blood of their fingertips.
Yan Shixun slowly straightened up and continued to feel the wall within the one-meter range of the iron chain.
He quickly discovered that besides expressions of despair and curses, there were other things.
Such as mathematical formulas.
As a graduate of the Finance Department of Binhai University, Yan Shixun naturally knew what these formulas he read from the wall were all about.
Gaussian formulas, Taylor expansions, Feynman proofs…
Large swathes of letters and formulas were written on the wall by someone many years ago.
It’s like a stubborn self-rescue under despair, trying to pull back their spirit from the brink of collapse.
After a long period of suppression and despair, the person imprisoned in this room chose to brace themselves and keep going.
Perhaps that person still had unfinished business, or someone to wait for. Or perhaps, that person harbored a deeper hatred than despair itself, which replaced their hopes for the world and became the driving force behind continuing their life.
And the things they once knew best and loved most seemed to be a way to summon back their former selves, from which they could draw strength anew.
Remembering who they were, where they came from, and what they had to accomplish.
At the same time, Yan Shixun also confirmed the identity of the person tethered here.
—— The cultural level in Family Tomb Village was very low. Except for some young people who had attended primary school in recent years, most villagers were illiterate and couldn’t even recognize big characters.
Let alone write so many mathematical formulas on the wall.
For the villagers of the former Family Tomb Village, it was simply impossible.
This person must have come from outside the village and possessed a high level of education and culture.
Yang Duo got married decades ago, and Yan Shixun assumed that this person appeared here around the same time, decades ago.
In an era where even having enough food to eat was a struggle, it wasn’t easy for ordinary people to possess such knowledge.
Yan Shixun almost immediately thought of his conversation with the old police officer tonight.
The old police officer mentioned that decades ago, there was a case of college students being kidnapped in Family Tomb Village.
The abducted female college student was named Jiang Yanran.
However, in the end, the old police officer couldn’t rescue Jiang Yanran. He even sustained injuries and carried a lifetime of regret and guilt.
Without any hesitation, Yan Shixun confirmed his answer.
Decades ago, Jiang Yanran, the abducted female college student, was in Yang Duo’s house, which was then called Wangzi Village.
At that time, there was only one eligible bachelor in the Yang family.
Yang Hua, Yang Duo’s father, also known as Yang Laosan.
While listening to the villagers chatting today, Yan Shixun also noticed someone mentioning that after Yang Duo got married, Yang Laosan was able to have a new wife.
Now it seems that Yang Laosan’s new wife was a woman bought from outside the village who had been abducted. And the new wife he brought back was Jiang Yanran.
“Yang Tu, you don’t need to apologize, you haven’t done anything wrong.”
Yan Shixun’s voice rang softly. He stood before the wall, his gaze falling upon it with such icy anger. “Have you ever heard that in this world, there are no coincidences? Everything happens according to the will of the heavens and earth.”
“Complying with fate is the fate itself, but resisting fate is also fate.”
“When you think you’ve messed up something, how can you be sure it’s not a hint from the heavens and earth, telling you that your fate lies here?”
Yan Shixun’s voice was soft, almost like murmuring to himself. “I cannot divine here, so the heavens and earth lay out the preordained before me, telling me, is this the….. truth?”
“Or perhaps, the departed souls and lingering resentments are making requests to the living, questioning whether the heavens and earth are unjust?”
“Jiang Yanran, you seek an answer, so I stand here, reading the words you once left behind… What happened to you? Come, tell me, let me help you.”
Yang Tu was initially touched by Yan Shixun’s comfort and wanted to express more self-blame. However, he quickly became confused by Yan Shixun’s words, filled with question marks, unsure of what Yan Shixun was talking about.
“B-Brother Yan, are you okay? You’re not possessed by a ghost, are you?” Yang Tu looked on the verge of crying with his own speculation. “Don’t scare me, Brother Yan. If something happens to you, what am I going to do alone here?”
Yang Tu began his second round of guilty apologies and prayers, but Yan Shixun’s focus had shifted back to the wall, continuing to extract the information left behind decades ago from those strokes.
Yan Shixun’s fingers quickly found another set of words along the wall.
He slowly bent his long legs, following the strokes all the way down to the wall covered by the wooden bed.
Unlike the other messy strokes, these words carved behind the bed were much deeper and clearer, obviously left by Jiang Yanran with great care and seriousness.
And because of this, Yan Shixun quickly read those words.
A look of astonishment flashed across his handsome and serious face.
It was Jiang Yanran’s self-narrative, clear and concise.
[I am Jiang Yanran, a student at Capital University. On my way to report to my internship unit, I was abducted and brought here. Yang Mian, who facilitated the abduction, sold me to Yang Laosan of Wangzi Village for ten yuan. I was forced to marry Yang Laosan and engage in sexual relations with him. He also killed my uncle, Jiang Cheng. I was forced to conceive a child, and I performed the abortion myself.
I hid a notebook in the rafters, which records the experiences I endured during my more than four years in Wangzi Village. It is enough to prove the injustices I suffered over the four years and the crimes of Wangzi Village. If someone finds this notebook, please take it and help me seek justice!
When you find this notebook, I should already be dead. My family is destroyed, and I have no way to repay your kindness. But please rest assured, even in death, my soul will remember this, and I will do my best to repay your kindness.]
Kneeling by the corner of the wall, Yan Shixun’s slender fingers lingered on the final strokes, his movements halted. Strands of his hair fell across his forehead, partially obscuring his handsome face. His eyes, dark and sharp, resembled a stormy sea under the cover of night, filled with raging waves and tempestuous fury.
He stood like a statue, unmoved by the distant sounds of suona and laughter drifting in from outside the room. He was completely immersed in the world of the past.
Yang Tu remained seated by the doorway, his gaze fixed nervously on Yan Shixun’s figure, too afraid to make a sound.
After a while, Yan Shixun slowly lifted his head, tilting it slightly to look towards the window beside him.
The paper-covered window had long since yellowed with age, casting a dim, yellowish light that filtered through from outside, as if allowing the oppressive despair of decaying dust to seep in.
As the girl sat here, calmly inscribing these words one by one, what was she thinking?
Did she spend her last moments alive resenting her uncle and others for not coming to find her? Did she know that someone had never given up searching for her, persevering for decades despite being completely ignorant of her situation and facing countless difficulties, never once giving up the hope of bringing her home?
In the end, as she died alone in a place of strangers and hatred, in her final moments, what was she thinking?
Was she resentful towards this village, towards the world?
In Yan Shixun’s mind, images of Jiang Yanran’s radiant smile in the daylight surfaced, the fluttering of her skirt as she turned, the beautiful scenes of her holding flowers.
Then, those images shattered one by one, transforming into scenes of a dim and crude shack, where a woman, battered and bruised, sat huddled on the bed, her hands and feet bound by iron chains, treated like an animal. And when the woman lifted her eyes, those once beautiful and bright eyes had lost their light.
There was only a silence of hatred, deathly still.
Jiang Yanran…
Yan Shixun sighed deeply in his heart.
He blinked, pushing back the dampness in the corners of his eyes.
Then, all the sighs and reflections turned into a resolute vow.
Yan Shixun lowered his gaze, his slender fingers resting on the marks on the wall, as if transcending decades of time and the barrier between life and death, meeting the gaze of the woman who had earnestly carved those words here years ago.
“I have received your commission.”
Yan Shixun’s magnetic voice resonated softly, deep yet steadfast. “I may have come decades too late, missing out on the bright and beautiful life you should have had. But even after your death, this commission remains valid, and I will seek justice for you. I will confront this world with your anger and questions.”
“Those wronged shall receive justice. Those who die in hatred shall find peace for their souls.”
“And evildoers shall fall into the depths of hell, enduring all manner of suffering, unable to be reborn.”
Speak for the voiceless, advocate for the unjustly departed.
That is the duty of the exorcist.
Moreover…
“I have already received payment,” Yan Shixun chuckled softly. “I really liked the flowers you sent me.”
His hair fell, partially obscuring his sharp gaze. In that moment, his features softened, his eyes gentle amidst the interplay of light and shadow.
“Jiang Yanran, I’m here to take you home.”
…
[I will definitely take you home, believe me, wait for me!]
The young girl blinked, feeling as if she had heard those words before.
However, decades had passed, hatred had consumed her, and reason had long been lost.
She forgot who had said those words to her, and she forgot their identity.
But she knew that person must have broken their promise.
Otherwise, how could she now be alone in the Family Tomb Village, surrounded day and night by those she resented, unable to leave?
“Oh, Jiang Yanran, did you hear that man calling you?”
The girl appeared behind Jiang Yanran with a mischievous smile, affectionately linking arms with her. “Are you doing this on purpose? Are you trying to leave us? Is that why you gave him flowers?”
Another girl giggled, “Too bad, he can’t take you away, Jiang Yanran. You struggled for so many years, what did you gain? Disappointment after disappointment, we all saw it.”
The girls gathered around Jiang Yanran, their smiles bright and innocent, without a trace of gloom.
“Give up, Jiang Yanran, no one will come to save you.”
“We are the forsaken ones, destined to rot here, unable to leave.”
“Embrace our eternal death, for people are untrustworthy, people are hateful, but we are companions, we will always be together.”
“Those people deserve to die, Jiang Yanran. Don’t be fooled by men’s sweet words. Have you forgotten how you ended up in Wangzi Village?”
…
The girl’s face, once adorned with a smile, turned cold. She disdainfully averted her gaze and shook off the arm that was entwined with hers. Then, she looked towards the house not far away in the courtyard.
Her focused gaze seemed to penetrate through the walls and windows, reaching towards where Yan Shixun was inside the house.
She blinked and her smile returned, radiant as ever. “Oh, good person Yan Shixun, don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“Since I’ll take it seriously.”
Jiang Yanran tilted her head and smiled charmingly, “Or, to avoid disappointing me, why don’t I just kill you here?”
“Yan… Shi… Xun…”
Her lips delicately uttered Yan Shixun’s name, each syllable slow and lingering.
Beneath her innocence, however, lay deep malice and resentment.
The girls chuckled along, extending their fingers to cover their lips, their nails sharp and crimson.
“Okay, Xiao Yanran is still Xiao Yanran, so adorable.”
“How about we help too? Anyone who dares to deceive us, hurt us, they should all stay here with us, unable to step out.”
Suddenly, the girls’ laughter ceased abruptly, as if they had seen a terrifying presence, vanishing in an instant.
A blood-red moonlight spread around Jiang Yanran.
The hem of her wedding dress brushed over the rough stone floor, her embroidered shoes delicate as she silently tiptoed along.
Then, she stood behind Jiang Yanran.
“I know,” Jiang Yanran smiled, speaking softly to the newcomer. “I won’t forget.”
“At first, I did have hope. But year after year passed, and no one came for me, no one helped me. All my hopes were dashed. So in the end, I gave up all unrealistic expectations. Because of you, I saw reality clearly.”
Jiang Yanran’s smile was radiant, her eyes bright like a spring day.
“I want them all to experience the pain I once felt.”
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