Chapter 107: Earth God

Ji Tai Mei shivered, looked down at his forearm, where every hair stood on end and his skin was covered in goosebumps.

He swallowed hard, forced himself to move forward, and two footsteps echoed together on the path—click, click.

Slowly approaching the Tudimiao, the scent of incense drifted into his nostrils; the rural temple naturally lacked the amenities of the Three Immortals Temple in Yunyun Mountain tourist area—there was no bronze incense burner, only a double-holed cement brick standing on the ground, both holes filled with ash, a few incense sticks planted in the ash emitting a faint blue glow.

Ji Tai Mei stepped closer; the Tudimiao was built from the same cement bricks, topped with glazed tiles—Yunzhou temples always favored glazed tiles—and the small shrine stood barely over a meter tall, inside sat a clay-fired statue of the deity.

To the left of the Tudimiao lay several leftover cement bricks; Ji Tai Mei shone his flashlight on them and indeed found a plastic bag, seemingly containing something, inside one of the brick holes.

The plastic bag was black.

Ji Tai Mei’s heart lurched—he clearly remembered the note saying:

【On your way into the village, you’ll encounter a Tudimiao. Remember to offer three sticks of incense to the deity; the incense can be found in a red plastic bag beneath the bricks beside the temple. Remember—it must be a red plastic bag. If you see any other color, abandon the offering and leave immediately.】

“Leave immediately!” A thunderclap of dread exploded in Ji Tai Mei’s mind, then a crisp sound came from within the Tudimiao:

Crack—

The sound of ceramic cracking.

Ji Tai Mei turned his head stiffly and saw scattered fruits on the altar; cold moonlight slanted into the temple, illuminating a pale clay face.

The deity’s face was round, features soft, forehead full, earlobes thick—the classic image of a folk earth god—but on this face, which could be called “benevolent,” crimson blood streamed down.

The horrifying sight froze Ji Tai Mei’s body, his legs went weak, and he couldn’t take a single step.

Two rusted nails were driven into the deity’s eye sockets; its upper and lower lips were sewn shut with thick black thread; its nose had been sliced off; its ears were packed with dirt; blood poured from its seven orifices, staining the pale clay face with an eerie, vivid red.

Below, the deity’s hands were shackled; its crossed legs had one left foot smashed, and the remaining intact right foot was crushed under a heavy cement brick.

The crisp “crack” just now had been the sound of that cement brick splitting in half.

Extreme terror pushed Ji Tai Mei’s mental defenses to their limit; his lips parted, trembling silently.

Under Ji Tai Mei’s stunned gaze, the deity’s stitched crimson lips slowly split upward, smiling.

“A ghost—!!!” With a heart-rending scream, he finally broke. Ji Tai Mei scrambled to his feet on all fours and fled forward like a man possessed, not daring to pause a single step.

It was hard to imagine that a gaming-addicted teen with a depleted body could move this fast—Ji Tai Mei vanished in a blur down the path, the incense-scented Tudimiao left far behind.

Feng Yu was left behind too, trailing behind him.

She spent her days idle at home and had poor physical stamina; though she wanted to catch up, she couldn’t. Fortunately, the moon had risen, and under its glow, the boy’s running shadow remained visible—she wouldn’t lose him.

Feng Yu cautiously tilted her head, glancing back at the Tudimiao where the crack had come from—she didn’t know what Ji Tai Mei had seen to make him flee like this. She would find out soon.

For a pale, seven-orifice-bloodied skull slowly emerged from the temple doorway, blood dripping from its nail-pierced eye sockets, its lips sewn shut with black thread slightly parted—as if smiling.

“...!” Feng Yu jumped back, instinctively stepping away to increase distance—but quickly regained her composure.

Feng Yu looked up at the bright moon hanging in the night sky, followed the direction of the moonlight, and quietly stepped two paces to the side. Her heart pounded in her chest; under her tense gaze, the “Tudishen” crawled out of the temple.

A pale skull, seven orifices bleeding, its ceramic skin painted with vivid clay pigments, emerged from the temple; atop its head sat a bright red two-winged official hat, its neck stretched out as if using hands and feet to crawl out like a beast.

But after the neck emerged, what followed wasn’t the deity’s red official robe-covered shoulders—it was a bloodied cervical vertebra.

“Ah...” Feng Yu involuntarily covered her mouth with both hands.

Beneath the pale skull stretched a bloodied cervical vertebra, like a showerhead hanging on a bathroom wall, or a serpent with a human head slithering forward.

Behind the vertebra came ribs—twelve complete pairs of human ribs splayed outward from the spine like eight spider legs; beneath them, a bloody tailbone dragged along the stony path, curving as it crawled, emitting a crunching sound.

Crunch—crunch—

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A complete human ribcage bore a pale, seven-orifice-bloodied corpse’s head; the Tudishen crawled out of the temple, its long, deformed body casting a serpentine shadow under the moonlight.

Feng Yu clenched her hands tightly, eyes fixed on the ground beneath her.

It was close enough—if the Tudishen crawled just a little nearer, just a little closer, she could trigger Lei Te’s rule and attempt to “kill” this unknown spirit. Lei Te’s instant-death rule was extreme, sufficiently threatening—but direct rule collisions must be the absolute last resort; acting rashly without information was irrational.

This was what Ning Zhe had taught her before departure; Feng Yu had memorized every word he said.

The Tudishen’s serpentine body slithered over the ash-filled cement bricks; its blood-dried eyes swept over Feng Yu briefly, then moved on without stopping.

It turned and crawled into the roadside rice paddy, vanishing from sight.

“Thank goodness...” Feng Yu patted her chest, exhaling a long breath.

She didn’t know the rule tied to this “Tudishen,” but clearly she hadn’t triggered it—the Tudishen ignored her and left on its own.

After calming down slightly, Feng Yu approached the Tudimiao, gathered courage, crouched slightly, and peered inside.

Inside the small temple sat a headless corpse clad in a bright red official robe, its neck a gaping black hole, its sunken chest hollowed out—as if nothing remained but an emptied shell.

(End of Chapter)