Sleeping on a shared floor like this came with its downsides. Jiang Luo resigned himself to tidying up his hair and used the blanket to separate himself from the people on either side.
After a difficult night, the contestants had to leave the resting area at six in the morning.
Liao Si moved slowly. By the time he was done packing, the room was already empty.
He wasn’t in a hurry at all. Leisurely, he sorted through his luggage and took out twenty small plastic bags, each about the size of a palm. One by one, he collected strands of hair from every contestant’s bedding—except his own—sealed them into separate bags, and wrote names on each.
He placed the bags into his suitcase, then finally took out a plastic bag he had already prepared the night before.
Inside the small bag, a long, fine hair curled into a coil. Among all the contestants, only one person had hair this long.
Liao Si stared at it curiously for a while and muttered to himself, “Huali, why did Master make me press on Jiang Luo’s hair yesterday?”
“If he wanted the hair, couldn’t he just have waited until morning to pick it up?”
There was no one else in the room, yet a cold, eerie voice suddenly responded out of thin air: “How would I know what Master’s thinking? He can read your thoughts—why don’t you ask him yourself?”
Liao Si chuckled. “You also know that Master can control my body at any time, and read my thoughts. But I was curious the whole night, thinking and thinking—and still, Master didn’t say a single word to me. That’s why I wanted to ask you.”
Huali didn’t want to continue this topic. “If you don’t go out soon, someone’s going to come looking for you.”
Liao Si sighed and finally walked out of the resting area.
Jiang Luo was listening to a staff member explain the details of the third round.
The staff member said, “Deep in the forest, there is an isolated village called Shentu Village. About a month and a half ago, the police received a call from Shentu Village. But when they drove out there, they discovered there was no phone line in the entire village.”
“After investigating, the police found that Shentu Village had experienced several strange epidemics many years ago—each one killing about half the population. Yet despite that, no one ever left the village. In recent years, the strange diseases have stopped, but something even stranger has begun—”
“For every person who dies in Shentu Village, a new life appears. The total population of the village has not changed in years.”
The staff member continued, “Your task as contestants is to uncover the secret of Shentu Village within one week—and survive.”
What followed was the familiar routine of signing the death waiver, but this time, everyone’s expressions were noticeably more grim than in the last round.
The road to Shentu Village couldn’t be accessed by car—they had to go on foot. Students from Baihua University and Shanhai University made up the majority, and naturally split into two groups. The remaining solo contestants exchanged glances and formed a third temporary team.
But one person ignored everyone else and walked straight into the forest with a compass in hand.
“That’s He Zhi from Wenxing University,” Liao Si strolled up to Jiang Luo and said slowly, “He’s always been a loner. But I’m not—I can join you guys, right, Jiang Luo?”
Jiang Luo turned his head to look at him. Liao Si gave a frail smile. “My health is poor, but at least I’m a corpse driver—I won’t slow you down.”
The identity of a corpse driver was extremely valuable, especially here in Xiangxi. Jiang Luo had no reason to refuse. He nodded and, almost casually, asked, “Isn’t a corpse driver supposed to have a strong body? After all, you’re supposed to carry corpses across thousands of miles, relying only on your legs.”
“You’re right,” Liao Si replied calmly. “I learned the art of corpse driving, but I’ve never actually done it. My body’s too weak—I can’t travel that far on foot. If I could, I’d like to try what it feels like to drive a corpse too.”
He let out a sigh. “But to put what I’ve learned to real use, I’d probably have to switch to a different body.”
After Liao Si joined the group, their pace slowed considerably.
Shentu Village was deep in the forest, nestled by the mountains and rivers—beautiful yet undeniably remote and backward. There was only one narrow mountain path leading into the village, formed by countless footsteps. Halfway in, Liao Si was already drenched in sweat, his face deathly pale.
Kuang Zheng and Lu Youyi took turns supporting him. After three hours of hiking, the group finally arrived at Shentu Village.
At the entrance of the village stood a large locust tree, its branches thick and full of leaves. The earth beneath it was flat, casting a wide shadow. A breeze stirred, and the leaves rustled softly.
They stepped under the tree, and a coolness enveloped them. Liao Si leaned against the trunk, panting. Lu Youyi joked, “Liao Si, you’re even more of a weakling than Jiang Luo used to be.”
Jiang Luo chuckled and tilted his head back to drink some water—only to suddenly spot a pair of bare, bluish-purple feet above Lu Youyi’s head.
His motion froze. He looked up.
A long-dead male corpse, its face rotting and twisted, was hanging from the locust tree by a rope—right above Lu Youyi.
Jiang Luo said, “Lu Youyi…”
The moment he spoke, the corpse vanished.
In broad daylight, the ghastly image seemed like nothing more than a hallucination.
Lu Youyi turned his head to look at him. “What’s wrong?”
Jiang Luo licked his dry lips. “Come here. Don’t stand there.”
Though puzzled, Lu Youyi obediently walked over to stand beside him. After drinking half a bottle of water, he said curiously, “You know, now that you mention it, I did feel like my scalp was itching when I stood there, like something was scratching my hair. But standing here feels much better.”
Jiang Luo didn’t have the heart to tell him that what had touched his hair was a dead person’s foot.
Once they had rested enough, Jiang Luo urged the others to get up and leave from under the big locust tree.
At the village entrance, the village chief was receiving the contestants along with his son, Wang Qian.
Their attitudes were lukewarm. From the chief’s mouth, they learned that Jiang Luo’s group was the last to arrive out of the three batches of contestants.
However, Jiang Luo noticed something: the village chief didn’t seem to know they were here for a competition to uncover the village’s secrets. He seemed to think they were just a group of college students on a regular trip.
The event organizers must have paid Shentu Village a good sum. The rooms provided by the village were actually better than the resting places the event team had arranged.
After taking them to their rooms, the village chief said flatly, “There will be a sacrificial ceremony in the village tonight. You may participate, but you must stay at the very back and remain silent. If you do take part, remember: impure people must not attend, you must not speak disrespectfully during the ceremony, must not point at the altar with your fingers, and must not touch anything on the table with unwashed hands.”
These were all basic rules for a sacrificial rite, so they naturally understood and nodded without question.
The chief nodded, slightly more amiable now. “We have a lot of snakes, bugs, rats, and ants here. Don’t go up the mountain unless necessary. If you get bitten, come find me right away.”
With these words, the village chief and his son left.
All the rooms in this area were for the contestants. Apart from He Zhi from Wenxing University, who entered the village first, the other twenty-one people were all present.
Xu Yan from Shanhai University hesitated for a moment before walking over. “Did you run into any villagers on your way into the village?”
Jiang Luo nodded. “We saw a few people.”
“I just asked the village chief. He said there are 311 people in the village,” Xu Yan said. “Same as what the event staff told us. The number hasn’t changed in years.”
311—if analyzed using the numbers corresponding to the Eight Trigrams, it points to the Gen trigram. Gen represents a mountain, symbolizing barriers and obstruction.
Jiang Luo narrowed his eyes. “Why are you telling us this?”
He was wary of everyone now. Who would willingly share useful information during a competition without a reason?
Xu Yan lowered his voice. “We wanted to thank you. In the last round, it was thanks to your information that we advanced…” His expression darkened. “And you were the one who discovered that Brother Bai was possessed by a ghost. Thankfully, he was saved. Otherwise, we wouldn’t even have the face to keep competing.”
Seeing that Xu Yan’s emotions weren’t fake, Jiang Luo said generously, “It was nothing. No need to thank me.”
Xu Yan shook his head. “If we find any clues later, we’ll come and tell you. Thank you for helping us move forward—and for saving Brother Bai’s life.”
With that, as if afraid Jiang Luo might refuse, he turned and left before Jiang Luo could respond.
Zhuo Zhongqiu sighed. “That Xu Yan was so wary of us in the last round.”
Jiang Luo replied seriously, “That’s what they call good karma being repaid.”
They went back to their room to drop off their luggage. While it was still light out, they took the chance to look around Shentu Village.
The village was larger than expected, bordered by two tall mountains that enclosed it. They split into five groups to try and map out the layout in a single afternoon.
Jiang Luo and Lu Youyi were grouped together. Along the way, they saw many villagers. These villagers didn’t seem any different from those in other rural places. In fact, they looked remarkably happy—most had smiles on their faces.
With green mountains and clear waters, elderly folks and young children, at a glance it looked like a secluded paradise cut off from the world.
Lu Youyi said, “The people here seem to be living really well.”
While they were talking, they reached the edge of the village. Wild grasses grew on both sides. Suddenly, Jiang Luo said, “Something’s not right.”
Lu Youyi asked, “What’s wrong?”
Jiang Luo pointed to a vegetable patch among the weeds. “Look at these plots. They’re wilted and dried up. The crops are clearly withered from lack of care.”
Lu Youyi scratched his head. “Maybe the person who planted them was just lazy?”
“In rural places—especially in isolated villages like this—people rely on themselves for everything,” Jiang Luo said, shaking his head. “When cooking, they’ll step out to pick a scallion or pull up a vegetable. So vegetable patches are usually planted in the yard or just outside the home. The only families who bother cultivating land at the village’s edge are those who don’t have enough vegetables at home, so they tend to be even more diligent, not lazier. Otherwise, why bother planting at all?”
Lu Youyi agreed. “Let’s head back and take another look?”
On the way back, they paid closer attention. Sure enough, every household had some kind of vegetable patch in front of their doors. Some were thriving and well-tended, while others were sparse and full of withered plants.
But strangely, the households with dead crops weren’t unoccupied—people lived there, yet seemed not to care about their dying gardens. Laziness appeared to be the only explanation.
As they neared home, a little girl in red suddenly dashed out from around a corner and crashed straight into them.
The impact made both of them stumble a step backward. Jiang Luo quickly steadied the girl and put on a fake-friendly expression used for deceiving kids. With a cheerful smile, he asked, “Little girl, why were you running so fast?”
The little girl in red looked about eleven or twelve years old, her height just reaching Jiang Luo’s waist. Like him, she had long black hair, but her bangs were messy and stuck to her forehead. Her face was smudged with dirt and dried grass. Her eyes were large, but hollow and lifeless—like those of a doll, glassy and devoid of emotion.
The little girl said, “I’m going to find my mom and dad.”
Lu Youyi said warmly, “Where do your parents live? We’ll take you to them.”
As soon as he finished speaking, a couple came running toward them. The woman was still wearing an apron, and the man was in slippers. Both wore equally anxious expressions. When they saw the little girl, their faces lit up. “Little Ya, it’s almost dinner time, why are you running off?”
The couple’s features faintly resembled the little girl’s—one could easily tell they were related. Lu Youyi turned to the girl and said, “Your mom and dad are here.”
But the little girl didn’t respond to the voices behind her. She said stiffly, “I’m going to find my other mom and dad.”
Other mom and dad?
Before Jiang Luo could think further, the couple had already reached the girl. They gently coaxed her in low voices. The mother softly brushed the twigs and leaves from her daughter’s clothes, and the father lovingly stroked her head. After a few tender words, they led her away.
Their love for the little girl was obvious—almost excessively so.
Jiang Luo watched them walk off and frowned slightly before returning home with Lu Youyi.
Soon, the others also came back. No one had discovered anything useful, so they could only wait for that night’s sacrificial ceremony.
At six in the evening, the village chief’s son, Wang Qian, delivered cloth masks that covered the lower half of their faces.
On the masks, a red smiling mouth had been crudely embroidered with crooked stitches. The fabric was rough, with four thin strings sewn to the sides for tying around the head.
Wang Qian reminded them repeatedly, “During the ceremony, you must wear a smile. If you can’t smile naturally, wear the mask. This is our village’s tradition. Please respect our customs.”
He said this not just three times—but five times. Even as he left, he kept glancing back, as if worried they might forget.
After he was gone, Jiang Luo tried the mask on in front of a mirror. In the reflection, the twisted smile stretched unnaturally across his lips, almost to his ears. It gave an extremely unsettling impression—staring at it too long made one feel a strange sense of unfamiliarity with their own reflection.
Jiang Luo took off the mask and turned around—only to be startled by another twisted smiling face right behind him.
Liao Si stood there grinning, the mask perfectly fitted over his nose and mouth. As he spoke, the embroidered red lips on the mask trembled as if they were speaking too. “The stitching on this mask is really bad.”
Jiang Luo twitched his brow—such a sickly handsome man had turned into a creepy killer with the mask on. “Can you take the mask off?”
Liao Si obediently removed it. “I think I hear music outside.”
Jiang Luo listened carefully. Indeed, there were faint sounds of music outside. They took their masks and stepped out to find the villagers also leaving their homes, forming a long, swaying procession following the sound of the music.
Children laughed, waving their toys; adults chatted in groups of two or three. Every single person wore a smile.
The contestants followed at the end of the procession. Jiang Luo didn’t want to wear the unsettling mask, so he forced a smile and tried to blend in.
The crowd gathered before the ancestral hall. The sky was darkening, painted with a purple-red glow.
An offering table was set up in front of the hall, which was filled with offerings: fruits, a pig’s head, and flatbreads—apparently dedicated to some deity.
The village chief paced anxiously before the table. He asked his son, “Is the God’s representative here yet?”
Wang Qian wiped the sweat from his brow. “Not yet.”
The chief’s expression twisted briefly, a deep fear shrinking his pupils. “Did we not prepare enough?”
Wang Qian’s voice trembled. “Impossible. We brought everything.”
He looked over the table. “Incense burner, candlesticks, vases, eight offerings, a teacup… nothing’s missing.”
The chief carefully checked each item. Once he confirmed nothing was missing, he let out a breath and muttered to himself, “Maybe the God was delayed. Let’s wait a bit longer.”
Behind the crowd, Jiang Luo’s face was beginning to freeze from smiling. The ceremony hadn’t even started yet. Glancing around, he saw that most of the contestants had put on their masks and were rubbing their faces.
Liao Si had his on too. He looked at Jiang Luo curiously. “You’re not wearing yours?”
Jiang Luo immediately put his mask on. “With everyone else looking this awful, I don’t feel self-conscious anymore.”
Liao Si chuckled, then gave a soft cough. “It’s getting colder.”
Suddenly, cheers erupted from the front. Jiang Luo looked up and saw a figure dressed in black, hooded, emerging from the ancestral hall.
The person walked over to the village chief and whispered something. The chief nodded repeatedly, face glowing with excitement and joy.
When the figure finished speaking, the chief turned to the villagers, raised his hands, and solemnly announced, “The ceremony begins.”
The ceremony ended unexpectedly quickly. The moon hadn’t even reached its peak when the chief declared it was over. But before dismissing the crowd, he made an announcement:
“Tomorrow is the day we choose someone for the ancestral hall,” the chief called out. “Whether or not you’re chosen won’t affect the deity’s blessings upon us. Sincerity brings miracles—I say this every year, and this year is no exception. Don’t be impatient! No conflicts are allowed! Tomorrow at 6 PM, same place, understood?”
The villagers answered in unison: “Understood!”
