Chapter 106: Bowing to the Deity Backwards

Ji Taimei turned on his flashlight and walked onto the path into the village.

Along both sides of the path stood neat rows of tall cypress trees; vast emerald rice fields flanked the winding road, while a cool night breeze swept across the fields, carrying the sweet fragrance of ripening grain, and the gentle trickle of water echoed from the irrigation ditches—beneath the night sky, all was peaceful and still.

Ji Taimei walked a little farther and pulled from his chest the letter left by his mother:

【1. After stepping onto that path, you must walk forward only—never look back.】

【2. As you walk the path, you will hear two sets of footsteps—one yours, one its. Do not fear; it will protect you.】

【3. If you hear only one set of footsteps, stop where you are and do not move until its footsteps return behind you, then continue forward.】

【4. On your way into the village, you will encounter a Tudimiao. Remember to light three incense sticks for the Earth God—the incense can be found beneath the bricks beside the small shrine, inside a red plastic bag. Remember: only the red plastic bag. If you see any other color, abandon the offering and leave immediately.】

【5. …】

“So hearing two footsteps means I’m safe to enter the village…?” Ji Taimei slipped the letter back into his chest, took a few steps forward, and his sports shoes crunched crisply over the gravel path.

At once, another set of footsteps emerged from behind him—identical in rhythm, identical in pace—as if an invisible figure shadowed his steps, matching him stride for stride, though its sound was far quieter.

Ji Taimei took a deep breath, steadied his breathing, and stepped forward.

Crunch, crunch, crunch—

Crunch, crunch, crunch—

The two sounds merged indistinguishably, moving forward slowly with the beam of his flashlight.

‘It’ had caught up.

Ji Taimei walked step by step, firm and steady; above him, the black night gradually brightened as the moon rose silently, spilling pale silver light over the emerald fields.

The cold moon, the silent fields, the steady click-click-click of footsteps right behind him—the eerie scene mirrored the ghost stories whispered in village alleys, sending shivers of gooseflesh crawling over his skin.

Ji Taimei pressed forward, his scalp prickling, the gravel along the path bathed in moonlight now gleaming unnaturally pale.

In the distance, a low, house-like structure flickered into view—it must be the Tudimiao mentioned in the letter, where the Earth God of Yanglao Village was enshrined.

“Light the incense—yes, I must offer incense to the Earth God…” Ji Taimei’s spirits lifted slightly; he gripped his flashlight tighter and quickened his pace.

Crunch, crunch, crunch—

But after only a few more steps, he froze, face pale—he now heard only one set of footsteps behind him.

Where had ‘it’ gone?

“Mother said in her letter not to fear it—that it would protect me… So if it’s gone now, does that mean I’m in danger? What danger?” Ji Taimei stood rooted, his heart pounding so hard it felt ready to burst from his chest.

He dared not move forward, dared not turn around—the emerald rice fields on either side rustled in the night wind, their eerie whisper tightening the knot of dread in his chest.

One minute passed. Two minutes passed. Time slipped away in silence; behind him, the darkness remained utterly still. The footsteps that had followed him had vanished without trace—as if they had never existed, as if he had imagined them. The endless wait offered no progress, and fear and doubt gnawed at his mind like maggots feasting on rotting flesh—until one question surfaced unbidden, leaving him restless and trembling.

—Will ‘it’ really come back?

If it never returns, must I stand here until dawn?

For a moment, Ji Taimei’s fear surged, urging him to bolt forward—but the last shreds of his reason forced him to stay calm, to remain standing, enduring the torment.

Waiting without knowing how long—even five minutes—felt longer than a half-hour with a clear end, each second stretching into a year.

After what felt like an eternity, a new set of footsteps sounded behind him again.

Tap, tap, tap—

“It’s back?” Ji Taimei’s shoulders jerked; he snapped awake. The footsteps drew nearer, stopping just one step behind him.

Ji Taimei did not turn. He kept walking forward.

Tap, tap, tap—

Same rhythm. Same pace. But this new set of footsteps felt different—clearer, sharper. If he had to describe it, it was like switching from soft-soled sneakers to hard-soled leather shoes. Nothing else seemed amiss.

Ji Taimei walked with cautious steps, the crisp, loud footsteps still right behind him—somehow, they gave his heart a quiet, unexpected steadiness.

=9+ Shu _ Ba

Ahead, the small Tudimiao was now close.

Suddenly, a crisp evening wind swept toward him, whistling softly—and carried with it, from afar, a voice like a mournful chant:

【Filthy fire, turbid water, mirror clouded in dust】

【Heaven light, earth base, man is precious】

【Day’s breath…】

Each Chinese character’s syllable was stretched and stitched together into a haunting, flowing melody drifting on the wind—as if someone wept in the night, or danced wildly ahead, singing in joy.

A chill ran down Ji Taimei’s spine. He crept forward cautiously and saw a thin, emaciated figure kneeling before the Tudimiao, forehead pressed hard to the ground, leaving a smear of fresh blood.

After the bow, the man rose—and another string of incomprehensible words spilled from his lips:

【Deer call, soft and clear; clouds cling, tender and slow…】

Ji Taimei dared not approach, only watched from afar. The man finished his chant, stepped back one pace, then knelt again, bowing deeply to the Tudimiao—another fresh bloodstain marked the earth. He rose once more, spoke another strange incantation, and bowed again—a cycle repeating.

Each time he bowed to the Tudimiao, he stood, recited a verse, stepped back one pace, then bowed again.

One step, one bow; one bow, one retreat. The long, strange incantations echoed across field and path, fading farther, growing fainter.

When Ji Taimei suddenly snapped out of his daze, the man on the path was gone.

Only the small Tudimiao remained beside the road, its doorway streaked with blood that trailed into the rice fields.

(End of Chapter)