Chapter 206: A Mountain Suspended, A River Submerged (20)
Before Yan Shixun was swept away by the river, he had already prepared himself. He silently recited an incantation, and a thin layer of spiritual energy floated around him, preventing the water from truly touching his body.
After all, it was still unclear what the river might have carried down from upstream. When he touched the petals in his pocket and his normal memory returned, Yan Shixun recalled that, during their trek into the mountains, the guide had claimed the river water was beneficial because it brought minerals from upstream.
Given the current state of Longevity Village, Yan Shixun did not believe in the so-called minerals. What he believed in was the hidden truth behind that statement.
—The river water was problematic because something had merged into it upstream.
Yan Shixun deliberately relaxed his muscles, letting the current drag him toward the unknown.
Want to find the spider?
Follow the web, and it would become effortless.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of Yan Shixun’s lips as he calmly closed his eyes.
All he heard was the thunderous rush of water.
He could feel his body rising and falling with the waves, plummeting rapidly before being hurled skyward by the surging water, then crashing down hard into the deep riverbed.
When a faint light filtered through his eyelids and reached his eyes, the roar of the river was replaced by the crisp and melodious sound of birdsong, clear and ethereal.
A faint fragrance drifted through the air, refreshing and uplifting.
Yan Shixun’s eyelashes trembled slightly as he slowly opened his eyes.
Unlike the cold darkness of Longevity Village after it lost its sunlight, what lay before him was bathed in dazzling sunlight. Clusters of chrysanthemums lined the riverbanks, their yellow and white petals scattered along the shore and drifting downstream with the current.
As soon as he saw the petals, Yan Shixun’s brow furrowed.
The petals were drifting downward, indicating the current flowed that way too. Yet he was lying on his back atop the water… floating upstream.
In one swift motion, Yan Shixun flipped upright and stood in the river, his feet landing precisely on the riverbed. The water’s current and the slick, massive rocks beneath did nothing to disturb his balance.
He looked around, taking in the full view of where he had landed.
For decades, travel blogs and online reviews had raved about Longevity Village as a hidden paradise, and even the guide had praised it as an idyllic haven.
But at this moment, Yan Shixun felt that what lay before him was the real Peach Blossom Spring.
Sunlight streamed through thick branches, casting beautiful shadows on the ground. From afar, crisp birdsong echoed through the secluded valley, though no birds could be seen.
Here, there was no sign of decay or death—only vibrant, flourishing life.
Yan Shixun took long strides toward the riverbank.
As he walked past the blooming chrysanthemums, he reached out and lightly brushed one with his fingers. The moment he made contact, his nimble fingers plucked a petal, curling it into his palm. Then, as if it were nothing at all, he leapt lightly up, landing gracefully and effortlessly on the riverbank.
Thanks to the protection of the talisman, Yan Shixun’s clothes remained completely dry.
However, the instant he stepped ashore, he could clearly feel the talisman’s effect vanishing. Without any effort on his part to deactivate it, the thin protective barrier that had separated him from the water dissolved rapidly, like an ice shell melting under the sun.
Yan Shixun’s gaze darkened as he came to a stop and turned to look back at the river.
When the sun was up, the river in Longevity Village had been crystal clear, without a speck of impurity. But after sunset, chrysanthemums covered its surface, hiding rotting corpses below.
Neither version was something one would expect to see in the ordinary world.
Yet this river seemed utterly normal.
Scattered chrysanthemum petals floated gently atop the water, refracting light into shifting colors as the sunlight played across the surface. The flickering brilliance made the water look as clear and beautiful as crystal.
Just looking at it brought a spontaneous sense of joy.
If the peace of Longevity Village had felt like a false calm to Yan Shixun, then this place seemed more like a true “land of longevity,” free from any hint of danger or worry.
Had he not already carried a talisman with him when he arrived—and had that talisman not dissolved for no apparent reason the moment he came ashore—he might have believed in the beauty of the scene before him.
Unfortunately…
Yan Shixun let out a low, cold snort, his gaze frosty.
Without a word, he turned and continued walking forward.
Behind the trees along the riverbank stood several wooden cottages, looking remarkably similar to those in Longevity Village.
Hanging from the small buildings were handmade ethnic ornaments, quite like the ones displayed by the hostess outside the mountains.
However, unlike the hostess’s decorations, which came in a variety of vibrant colors that instantly lifted one’s mood, the ornaments here were limited to just two dull shades: white and yellow.
Back when they were outside the village, Nan Tian had introduced the guests to these traditional ornaments, explaining that each unique pattern carried a distinct meaning.
Although Yan Shixun hadn’t been interested at the time, he still subconsciously listened to Nan Tian’s entire explanation as the wind carried the sound over to him.
Now, narrowing his eyes, Yan Shixun carefully examined the woven decorations, deciphering the meanings hidden in the patterns.
“Rebirth.”
Whether it was the ornaments in the hostess’s hands or those in Longevity Village, most conveyed more common messages such as “peace,” “blessing,” or “happiness.” Although there were other patterns mixed in, very few matched the ones seen here. It took Yan Shixun quite some time to distinguish them.
Still, he clearly remembered Nan Tian explaining that white symbolized rest, while yellow represented blessings.
…Using these two colors to symbolize “rebirth”?
If Nan Tian’s explanation was accurate, then whoever crafted these must have only had a superficial understanding of the tradition, pairing the wrong patterns with the wrong colors.
As he moved closer, Yan Shixun noticed that the area seemed to have a particular fondness for chrysanthemums. They weren’t just along the riverbanks—clusters of chrysanthemums bloomed even beneath the trees.
Even the outer walls of the wooden cottages were adorned with bunches of white and yellow flowers.
The little wooden cottage appeared to be unoccupied.
From his current distance, Yan Shixun couldn’t hear any sound coming from within.
However, wooden buckets and other household items were still placed outside the building, proof that someone had indeed been living there.
Even the viewers squatting in front of Yan Shixun’s split-screen feed couldn’t help but marvel at the serene scenery.
[This is exactly the secluded lifestyle I’ve always dreamed of…]
[Is this also part of Longevity Village? Something feels different, though.]
[Wait, isn’t Brother Yan no longer at the wooden cottage? I switched to the main screen for a second—it’s showing Xingxing and the others. So where is Brother Yan now?]
[Is it just my internet? The screen went black for such a long time. The stream only came back when Brother Yan came ashore.]
[Same here. I thought it was just me, but looks like it was a problem with the live feed?]
[Brother Yan fell into the water earlier, right? Maybe that’s when the camera got wet? Just guessing.]
[I checked the travel blog from that photographer who settled in Longevity Village. Several photos there look a lot like this place, so I think it’s still part of Longevity Village. After all, the photographer lived here.]
[Maybe it’s the same village split into sections? My hometown is like that—divided in two by a mountain, with only a few families living on the other side.]
[Waaah, this is my version of paradise! I’m definitely visiting if I get the chance. It’s just too beautiful, even through a screen.]
[…Is no one noticing the issue with the sun? It’s already night in Longevity Village, so why is it daytime here? No matter how many mountains there are, the sun should still be consistent!]
[Holy crap, I didn’t even notice until you mentioned it. Now I’ve got goosebumps. You’re right! How is it that other areas are clearly in the afternoon or already dark, but this place looks like morning?]
Just as Yan Shixun was about to step forward, he suddenly heard a voice.
“Who are you?”
It was a young girl’s voice—clear and gentle—coming from behind him.
But… before she spoke, he hadn’t sensed anyone approaching at all!
Yan Shixun’s pupils shrank, but in the brief moment it took to turn around, he quickly composed himself and looked back calmly.
A young girl dressed in coarse linen tilted her head, curiously gazing at him with her large, clear eyes.
Yan Shixun’s eyes quickly swept over the girl.
Now that his memories were no longer clouded, it felt as if a frosted pane of glass that had long obscured his vision had finally been removed, allowing everything before him to come into focus once more.
Ever since leaving Longevity Village, the strange little details about the villagers—things he had subconsciously noticed but kept forgetting—had all come flooding back to him.
Although the elderly man who welcomed them said that everyone in Longevity Village was over a hundred years old—and Yan Shixun had personally witnessed them walking briskly, strong and energetic like young people—now that he thought about it, that vitality and youthful aura felt too perfect to be real.
It was like a photo that had been overly edited—beautiful at first glance, but on closer inspection, you gradually realized that it wasn’t authentic.
The elderly always wore smiles on their faces and lived leisurely lives, as if there was nothing in the world that could trouble them.
Yet on their bodies, there was none of the vibrant presence typical of the living.
The girl who silently appeared behind Yan Shixun was different from the villagers he had seen in Longevity Village. She was translucent and brimming with life, full of energy—much more like an ordinary person you might encounter before entering the mountains.
“I haven’t seen you in the village before. Who are you?”
Seeing that Yan Shixun didn’t answer, the girl patiently repeated her question.
Yan Shixun steadied himself. Since he didn’t know who the girl was, he didn’t reveal his identity directly.
He pointed at the river not far away and calmly made up a story. “I got lost in the mountains and thought following the river would lead me out. I ended up here.”
“May I ask, what is this place? What’s the name of this village?”
After hearing Yan Shixun’s explanation, the girl seemed hesitant. She glanced back at the river, still flowing cheerfully, bit her lip, and her expression wavered for a moment.
But it looked like something else crossed her mind, and she quickly made a decision despite her inner conflict.
“This is Longevity Village.”
The girl appeared a bit anxious and took a step closer to Yan Shixun.
But before she could say anything more, a hearty laugh rang out from the small wooden cottage.
“Little sister, is there a guest here?”
As the man’s voice echoed, Yan Shixun saw the girl’s expression change in an instant, as if she had tucked away all her emotions. She no longer looked as kind or unguarded as she had moments before.
He turned in the direction of the voice and saw a man walking out of the small wooden cottage, carrying a wooden basin full of food—he looked like someone who truly lived here.
The man wore traditional short-sleeved clothes with a rustic style. His muscular build was clearly the result of long-term physical labor. His tanned skin and fresh, clean smile revealed a row of white teeth. He looked simple and honest.
No matter how one looked at him, the man didn’t seem like someone the girl would need to be so wary of.
Moreover, he had just called the girl “little sister.” Even if they weren’t related by blood, they must at least be familiar with each other.
Yan Shixun furrowed his brow slightly, then gave the man a polite smile and nodded. “I got lost and ended up here. May I ask, who are you?”
The man walked over without any hesitation and replied with a cheerful smile, “My name is Liu Ming. I live here in the village.”
“But our village is in a pretty remote location. If you got lost and wandered here, that’s quite the trouble.”
Liu Ming scratched his head thoughtfully and said, “Why don’t you stay in our village for now? Tomorrow, we happen to be heading out of the village for something—we can take you with us when we go.”
Liu Ming’s warm smile didn’t seem fake. He looked genuinely kind and enthusiastic, as if he was truly thinking about Yan Shixun’s wellbeing.
But Yan Shixun wasn’t worried about whether Liu Ming had other intentions. In fact, this was exactly the situation he had been hoping for.
Before dying, the guide had insisted that he pay attention to the river upstream—and this village just happened to be upstream. Coincidentally, it was also called Longevity Village.
Yan Shixun didn’t believe that was just a coincidence.
If he wanted to uncover the abnormalities of Longevity Village, he had to step into the heart of the mystery. Only by observing from up close could he discover the truth.
His thoughts quickly came together. Pretending to be hesitant, he paused for a couple of seconds, then nodded to Liu Ming and said, “Then I’ll trouble you.”
Liu Ming looked delighted to hear Yan Shixun’s response. With enthusiasm, he led the way toward the small wooden cottage.
“Ah Yu, you should go home now too. Who knows when he’ll come looking for you.”
Just before leaving, Liu Ming seemed to suddenly remember something. He turned and called out to the girl, “If he doesn’t see you, he’ll get angry again.”
Yan Shixun noticed that the girl’s expression clearly changed for the worse at the mention of that person. Even her smile became forced.
She responded softly, nervously twirling her fingers, then hurried off.
“Is her name Ah Yu?”
Yan Shixun kept a close eye on the girl’s movements, silently noting the direction in which she left. Only then did he put on a curious expression and ask Liu Ming, “I heard you call her little sister just now. I thought you were family.”
Liu Ming laughed and said, “No, we all know Ah Yu. She’s one of the few girls in our village, so we’re used to calling her little sister out of habit.”
“How should I address you?”
Liu Ming asked, “Judging by your look, you’re from outside the mountains, aren’t you?”
Yan Shixun nodded without trying to hide it. “My surname is Yan. Just call me however you like.”
After all, the village didn’t seem very big—you could see from one end to the other at a glance. In a place like this, everyone knew everyone. Even if he had claimed to be a local, it would’ve been an easily exposed lie, completely unnecessary.
Besides, Yan Shixun was actually waiting to see how the villagers would react to him as an “outsider from beyond the mountains.”
With the production crew not around, Yan Shixun had no need to worry about their safety, so he could act freely and without restraint.
Liu Ming was quite talkative—warm and cheerful—and didn’t hold anything back when answering Yan Shixun’s questions. He even took the initiative to pull Yan Shixun along and began introducing the village to him.
According to Liu Ming, not many people lived in this Longevity Village. Because it was deep in the mountains, going out required a long journey and a high risk of getting lost. After trying to leave twice in their youth, most villagers gave up and chose to live peacefully in the village, enjoying a relaxed life.
Fortunately, everything in the village was self-sufficient, so living here wasn’t really any different.
As he spoke, Liu Ming led Yan Shixun to his home.
“Guest, why don’t you sit here for a while? I’ll go ask the village chief what he thinks.”
Liu Ming put down the vegetables in his hand, wiped them clean, and got ready to leave.
Yan Shixun, curious, called out to stop him. “Why do you need to ask the village chief? I can just sleep at your place for one night. Like you said, I’ll leave tomorrow.”
In most villages, no one would need to get the village chief’s approval just to let a guest stay for the night.
Liu Ming explained, “Because sometimes monsters attack the village. To keep everyone safe and prevent monsters from sneaking in, all matters like this have to be cleared with the chief first.”
Monsters? Sneaking into the village?
Yan Shixun’s gaze darkened slightly.
It wasn’t unusual for villages to face threats from wild animals in the mountains, but no normal person would call them “monsters.” And wild animals wouldn’t exactly “sneak” into a village.
Judging by Liu Ming’s words, it sounded like these things could take human form. Otherwise, why would it matter so much to report a visitor to the village chief?
What exactly were these so-called “monsters” Liu Ming spoke of?
Maintaining a calm and natural demeanor, Yan Shixun nodded. “Thanks for the trouble.”
He stood at the doorway, watching the direction Liu Ming headed, and noticed it was the same way the girl called Ah Yu had gone.
Only after Liu Ming’s figure turned the corner of a cottage and disappeared from sight did Yan Shixun withdraw his gaze and calmly begin observing his surroundings.
Just as Liu Ming had said, there were very few people in this Longevity Village.
However, there were many houses.
From Yan Shixun’s vantage point, a broad stretch of land extended all the way to the foot of the nearby mountain, lined with identical wooden cottages.
At first glance, it looked like a vacation resort built by an outside developer—uniform and neatly arranged.
It didn’t resemble a traditional rural village where locals build homes at will. These looked more like factory-produced products straight off an assembly line.
Yan Shixun did a rough count and estimated that there were several hundred houses.
Yet most of them appeared uninhabited.
He didn’t even need to enter the wooden cottages to make that judgment.
—The exteriors of most of them were severely weathered by wind and rain. Wild grass and moss had crept up the wooden structures, giving them the appearance of decay and imminent collapse.
Some of the houses looked so old that they were completely engulfed in greenery, standing eerily empty and spine-chilling.
Amid these decaying wooden buildings, a few showed signs of life. Their exteriors were well-maintained, and they were decorated uniformly with yellow and white fabric that fluttered gently in the mountain breeze.
Yan Shixun took a closer look and noticed that the fabric all carried the same symbolism—representing “new life.”
This Longevity Village didn’t just have standardized wooden cottages. Even the decorations were startlingly uniform.
Although it was clearly still broad daylight with the sun shining brightly, the village was eerily silent—no voices, no signs of anyone passing by.
Only the sound of wind, running water, and birdsong could be heard.
Yan Shixun stood quietly at the doorway, holding onto the doorframe for a moment before turning and walking back into the small wooden cottage.
That man named Liu Ming…
Yan Shixun wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination, but he felt that Liu Ming’s face looked oddly familiar—as if he had seen it somewhere before.
Moreover, the southern region had its own dialect. Even when people spoke Mandarin, there would usually be some kind of accent—something subtle but distinct enough for Yan Shixun to recognize easily.
Just like the guide and the hostess from outside the mountains.
As for the Longevity Village downstream, the elderly there had even heavier accents.
Yan Shixun had speculated that the frequent interactions with tourists might have prompted them to learn some Mandarin to make daily communication easier.
But then, what about the Longevity Village upstream?
Liu Ming had clearly introduced himself as a local whose village had never ventured beyond the mountains.
And yet, he spoke fluent, standard Mandarin.
Yan Shixun even detected traces of a Binhai City accent in his speech.
Though faint—like a melting ice cube barely noticeable—it was definitely there.
—Why would someone from deep in the mountains have an accent from another region?
Doubts about Liu Ming began to rise in Yan Shixun’s mind, though he showed nothing on the surface.
No matter how friendly Liu Ming appeared, Yan Shixun remained wary, unable to shake off the suspicions.
Only after Liu Ming had left did he furrow his brows and begin examining the house, hoping to find some clue or trace of truth.
Meanwhile, on the other side, after leaving, Ah Yu hurried back to her own home.
As soon as she stepped through the door, she rushed straight to the dark corner beneath the stairs of the small building.
There, hidden in the shadows where sunlight never reached, was a tiny wooden door—so inconspicuous it was easily overlooked.
The door was very small, allowing passage only for children or very slim adults. Its handle had been worn smooth and was tightly bound with thick, heavy chains.
Ah Yu pulled a key from the pocket of her skirt, crouched down, and skillfully unlocked the chain.
But just before she opened the little door, she hesitated for a moment. Then, after taking a deep breath, she yanked it open.
A damp, bloody stench rushed out instantly, assaulting her senses.
…
Liu Ming returned not long after.
When he stepped through the doorway, Yan Shixun was already sitting in a chair by the entrance, looking like he had been waiting there quietly for a while.
“Don’t worry, guest, the village chief said it’s fine.”
Liu Ming beamed with a bright smile. “In fact, the chief said he’d be happy to let you stay at his place.”
“There’s really nothing decent for guests at my place—it’s too simple and rough. But it’s different at the chief’s house. The conditions there are way better.”
Liu Ming explained, “Our village is tucked far away in the mountains. For you to have made it here—it must be fate. We can’t afford to treat you poorly.”
Yan Shixun nodded and stood up, following Liu Ming toward the village chief’s house.
“But your village seems pretty self-sufficient. Is there any reason you’d need to leave it?”
He asked. “It doesn’t seem easy to get out of these mountains. I’ll need to trouble you all to escort me out tomorrow.”
The moment tomorrow was mentioned, Liu Ming visibly perked up.
“It’s a good thing—a very important, very good thing.”
The deep bronze of Liu Ming’s cheeks turned faintly red with excitement. He rubbed his hands together eagerly, looking like he couldn’t wait for the day to arrive.
“After tomorrow, maybe there’ll be new life in the village.”
Liu Ming grinned as he extended an invitation to Yan Shixun. “If you’re curious, I can ask the chief. If he agrees, you can come take a look too.”
A trace of doubt stirred in Yan Shixun’s heart.
The term “new life” usually referred to childbirth, but from the way Liu Ming spoke, it sounded like a grand, even ceremonial event—one that couldn’t happen without leaving the village.
These two things—new life and going outside the village—sounded completely unrelated. Why did Liu Ming speak as if they were one and the same? And why did he use the phrase “maybe” to describe it?
Was there a chance this “new life” might not even make it?
Yan Shixun had never met anyone who spoke of a new life while already considering the possibility of death.
—No one would ever say to a pregnant woman, “Maybe this baby won’t survive.”
Not even Lu Xingxing would say something like that.
Though the doubts in Yan Shixun’s mind only deepened, he remained calm on the surface. He offered Liu Ming his thanks and said he was indeed curious and would love to witness tomorrow’s big event.
As they spoke, the two of them had already walked a long way into the village, passing by several uninhabited wooden cottages.
Yan Shixun’s eyes continuously scanned the buildings on either side.
Because the houses were made of wood, they were highly susceptible to dampness and rot in such a humid climate.
The Longevity Village upstream was surrounded on all sides by mountains, with a river flowing nearby. The moisture in the air had nowhere to escape, collecting heavily in the village. The humidity was so intense that Yan Shixun could feel it in every breath he took.
He had only been in the village for a short while, but he already felt like his clothes, from the outer layer down to his undergarments, were completely damp.
It was as if he had put on clothes that hadn’t fully dried after washing—wet and clammy against his skin, soaking to the point where even the texture of his skin felt softened, stifling and uncomfortable.
The deeper he walked into the village, the stronger that feeling became.
Yan Shixun even felt like he wasn’t walking on solid ground, but still wading through water.
In such an environment, it was no surprise that the wooden buildings couldn’t escape the damage caused by moisture.
If anyone had been living in them, they would have likely coated the wood with varnish to protect it from decay, and repaired damages in time.
But the small wooden buildings Yan Shixun saw along the way had all fallen into disrepair. Some creaked under their own weight with worrying groans—“creak, creak”—as if they might collapse at any moment.
Yet, through the windows of these wooden cottages, he could vaguely see traces of life still lingering inside.
Pots and pans were neatly arranged, furniture and belongings were all in their rightful places. Though covered in dust, everything remained orderly—as if the owner had taken good care of the house, never imagining that once they left one day, they would never return.
And so, the wooden cottages and everything inside them had rotted in the damp, humid air through the long passage of time.
“There are so many houses in the village—why are there so few people living here?”
Putting on a curious look, Yan Shixun asked Liu Ming, “Don’t tell me they all left the mountain to work? Didn’t you just say that the villagers never leave?”
Liu Ming nodded. Though he looked a little regretful, there wasn’t a trace of sorrow on his face.
It seemed like he had long grown used to this.
“What’s so great about the world outside? Life in the village is much more comfortable.”
Liu Ming glanced at the wooden cottage next to them and said in an indifferent tone, “They couldn’t make it through. Naturally, they didn’t qualify to stay.”
Yan Shixun felt a jolt in his heart.
But before he could ask Liu Ming what he meant, the corner of his eye suddenly caught a glimpse of something white beneath one of the wooden cottages.
His gaze, which had just swept past, returned to that spot—something about it felt undeniably off.
Then he saw it—beneath the house, in the half-meter-high space between the ground and the floorboards, a piece of finger bone was faintly visible.
The pale white bone lay in the damp soil, half-buried, its full shape unclear, shrouded in shadow.
If it weren’t for that unnatural speck of white standing out so starkly against the environment, Yan Shixun might never have noticed it.
Liu Ming had just said, “they couldn’t make it”—and now, there was a human finger bone here.
Yan Shixun lowered his eyes slightly, concealing the emotion in his gaze.
“Couldn’t make it”—did that mean that those who couldn’t survive… died?
The village chief’s house was near the foot of the mountain, far from the river. They would have to walk through more than half the village to reach it.
After realizing that people had once lived in Longevity Village but had already died, Yan Shixun became even more alert.
He skillfully disguised the questions he truly wanted to ask by embedding them in casual conversation or by deliberately giving incorrect answers, then waiting confidently for Liu Ming to correct him.
Through this indirect probing, Yan Shixun managed to learn quite a few things from Liu Ming.
For instance, Longevity Village held grand sacrificial ceremonies at each of the four solar terms. After each ceremony, it was said that new lives might appear in the village—new neighbors who would then live leisurely alongside the existing villagers.
And tomorrow was the Winter Solstice Festival.
According to Liu Ming, this year’s festival would be the grandest in the village’s history.
The compassion and protection of the gods would descend upon them, blessing the village so that they would never again be threatened by birth, aging, sickness, or death, and their lives would be free of all suffering.
Though Yan Shixun kept a polite, faint smile on his handsome face, a storm raged inside his heart.
All humans must face birth, aging, sickness, and death. The process was painful, but it was precisely that pain that defined life itself.
But Liu Ming claimed that their god would shield Longevity Village from all of that.
“I didn’t expect the village to believe in gods.”
Feigning complete ignorance about such matters, Yan Shixun asked Liu Ming, “Which god do you worship? I didn’t see any idols around.”
When Liu Ming mentioned the divine, he straightened his back with pride: “We don’t need to worship idols.”
“The god is right here with us. He’s always watching over us.”
As they talked, the two of them had already walked through the village.
Liu Ming came to a stop in front of one of the wooden cottages.
“This is the village chief’s home.” Liu Ming pointed at the small house behind him. “There’s actually another guest staying here too. You two can head out of the village together tomorrow.”
“The village chief’s home is in great condition—they even have meat to eat. Guest, you can rest easy and spend the night here.”
Yan Shixun looked up, and his pupils suddenly contracted, startled by the scene before him.
Everything in sight was white.
All around the small wooden building hung pure white drapes. The coarse white cloth swayed lightly in the mountain breeze, fluttering gently in midair.
At first glance, it looked no different from a mourning hall.
And while other small wooden cottages featured local folk decorations, this place had them too—only in pure white.
Unlike the decorative patterns in the other homes that symbolized “rebirth,” Yan Shixun recognized the meaning behind these textiles…
They symbolized death.
White death.
Seeing that Yan Shixun stood still and didn’t move forward, Liu Ming didn’t think for a second that he was frightened. Instead, he smiled and asked, “Right? Doesn’t the village chief’s place look much better than mine?”
“This is the best house in our village. Guest, wait here. I’ll go get the chief.”
With that, Liu Ming didn’t bother to check Yan Shixun’s reaction and ran straight into the small wooden cottage with big strides.
Yan Shixun was left standing alone, gazing at Liu Ming’s back with a rather complicated expression.
This environment… was called “better”?
Yan Shixun didn’t believe it was simply a matter of different customs.
Before entering the mountains, he had listened to Nan Tian’s introduction and already had some knowledge of the southern regions. He knew that people there also used white to bid farewell to the dead.
A place decorated like a mourning hall, yet Liu Ming called it nice…
Yan Shixun’s first thought was that Liu Ming’s perception had been altered.
When Liu Ming had left earlier, Yan Shixun, suspecting that he wasn’t truly a native of the southern region, had taken a quick but thorough look through Liu Ming’s home.
If one merely glanced over it, everything in Liu Ming’s small wooden cottage did match what one would expect from a villager living deep in the mountains.
—If Yan Shixun hadn’t discovered a camera lens in the cabinet, he might have believed that too.
Among the many handmade coarse hemp clothes and rough daily items, that expensive but dust-covered camera lens stood out like a sore thumb.
Even in households outside the mountains, ordinary people didn’t possess such things.
Yan Shixun had examined the brand and model on the lens carefully. Having occasionally chatted with the camera crew on his show, he recognized that it was a model discontinued over a decade ago.
Back then, one of the crew had spoken to him in a tone filled with envy and longing, saying that after that lens model was discontinued, its price had only skyrocketed—yet even with money, it was almost impossible to find.
And yet, such a precious lens now sat inside the home of an average villager, stuffed into a dark corner of a cabinet as if its owner had long forgotten about it.
Yan Shixun’s doubts had found their answer in that moment.
—Liu Ming wasn’t a villager of Longevity Village, as he had claimed.
He had come from outside the mountain, and had lived in Binhai City for quite some time—perhaps he was originally from Binhai. That would explain why his speech still retained a trace of the Binhai accent.
Either Liu Ming had been lying to him, or he had truly forgotten everything about his past, believing he had always lived in Longevity Village from the moment he could remember. That would explain why he looked so natural when talking about himself.
But if Liu Ming was lying, then in Yan Shixun’s eyes, his performance was award-worthy—far better than even the veteran actor Zhao Zhen.
So… why had Liu Ming forgotten his original background? And why did he show such admiration and dependence on Longevity Village, showing complete disdain for the outside world, and even belief in a so-called “god”?
Because of Ye Li’s identity, Yan Shixun had once asked him why, after a certain point in time, Taoists and exorcists could no longer summon deities.
At the time, Ye Li had replied that all the gods had perished.
Ye Li was now the last remaining deity beneath the Great Dao, holding dominion over death.
Yan Shixun had instinctively believed Ye Li. He didn’t think Ye Li would lie to him.
If that were true, then why did Liu Ming mention another “god”?
Was it something like the shamans beyond Shanhai Pass, or an evil deity like those at Wild Wolf Peak? Or was it some other kind of spirit or entity?
Could it be that Liu Ming didn’t understand the difference and simply called it a god?
Or perhaps…
Yan Shixun narrowed his eyes at the wooden cottage in front of him, his mind spinning rapidly without pause. He tried connecting every suspicious point that had arisen since entering the mountains with the guide, trying to uncover the true identity of the “god.”
But there were still many missing pieces in the puzzle, and the key evidence to prove any of his theories had yet to appear. He couldn’t complete the picture.
Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait long. Liu Ming soon appeared at the doorway again, and this time, someone was with him.
The newcomer wore clothes from outside the mountain and had a handsome face.
Yan Shixun steadied himself, pulling his thoughts back to the present. But when he looked at the man, surprise crossed his face.
“Nan Tian?”
Even Yan Shixun couldn’t stop himself from blurting out in astonishment.
Nan Tian, who had been turned sideways and chatting with Liu Ming, instinctively turned around when he heard the voice—and saw Yan Shixun standing in front of the wooden cottage.
Yan Shixun wore a dark green coat, his tall figure upright and straight, like a long blade that would never bend before any danger, radiating a reassuring and powerful presence.
When Nan Tian saw that familiar silhouette, his nose stung and his eyes immediately welled up. The heart he had been holding high finally settled back into his chest.
He knew that with Yan Shixun here, he would be safe.
“Brother Yan!” Nan Tian exclaimed, his voice trembling with emotion.
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