Chapter 12: Death Taboo

“You’re saying you saw Yunqing in the ancestral hall?” Ye Miaozhu instantly grew agitated: “When did this happen?!”

Zhang Yangxu pondered: “After I witnessed this, I immediately hid myself, crouching in the narrow alley opposite the ancestral hall, staying alert for a long time. I hid like that for about fifteen minutes, and only after confirming the ‘Gu Yunqing’ inside the hall had vanished did I call White Lady to warn you to be careful of Gu Yunqing.”

Ning Zhe looked up at Feng Yushu: “Auntie, check the call log.”

Feng Yushu immediately pulled out her phone and unlocked the screen—the call had ended just after 2 a.m.

“Right about fifteen minutes after Gu Yunqing’s death,” Ning Zhe swiftly concluded: “That means, at the exact moment Zhang Yangxu saw the ‘Gu Yunqing’ in the ancestral hall flipping through the almanac, the real Gu Yunqing died right before our eyes.”

Such a coincidence made it hard not to suspect a causal link between the two. Ning Zhe thought for a moment: “Let me lay out a timeline first.”

01:30–01:45 a.m.: Zhang Yangxu conversed with the fake Xie Sining, exposed her by piling on questions, and the ‘ghost’ vanished.

01:55–02:00 a.m.: Zhang Yangxu returned to the Nanjie ancestral hall and witnessed ‘Gu Yunqing’ alone inside, flipping through the almanac.

01:55–02:00 a.m.: Ning Zhe and others examined the corpse by the river and witnessed Gu Yunqing die suddenly by the water. 02:00–02:13 a.m.: Zhang Yangxu called to warn Ning Zhe and others to be careful of Gu Yunqing.

“We know the Gu Yunqing who died before us was the real one—so the one in the ancestral hall was fake,” Ning Zhe summarized: “The ghost impersonating Xie Sining, after being exposed by Master Zhang, then impersonated Gu Yunqing, entered the ancestral hall to flip through the almanac, while the real Gu Yunqing died at the same time.”

Ning Zhe’s expression turned skeptical—was there any connection between the two events?

Ye Miaozhu pressed her lips tightly, gritting her teeth, desperate to know what had caused Gu Yunqing’s death: “The almanac was already turned to today—today’s fortune was already revealed. Why did the ghost, using Yunqing’s identity, flip through the almanac again? To check tomorrow’s fortune?”

“Who knows?” Ning Zhe shrugged indifferently.

At that moment, Zhang Yangxu suddenly said: “Stop pretending, Ning Zhe—you understand what this means better than any of us.”

At these words, the other two immediately turned their gazes toward him.

Ning Zhe smiled: “I don’t quite understand what you mean, Master Zhang.”

What an unnerving composure. Zhang Yangxu felt the Ning Zhe before him didn’t resemble a high school senior just months away from turning eighteen—he looked more like a cunning veteran who’d spent over five years navigating the rough school of society.

Zhang Yangxu looked at Feng Yushu, who stood silently behind Ning Zhe, and said: “White Lady, remember when we first arrived at the ancestral hall? At that time, I and Sining were flipping through the almanac inside, while you planned to sneak in through the side door—what about Ning Zhe?”

“When I stood before the Snake God statue, the almanac showed the date as the 23rd day of the fourth lunar month—this means someone had entered the hall before me and turned the almanac to today. Who was that person?”

Feng Yushu’s eyes widened, her round, oval face filled with shock.

Zhang Yangxu continued smoothly: “Ning Zhe was the first among us to enter the ancestral hall—so the next thing I’m about to show can only be explained by you.”

Ning Zhe showed no sign of panic; he merely smiled as Zhang Yangxu opened the ancestral hall’s main door, walked to the large altar before the Snake God statue under everyone’s watchful eyes, and lifted the dark red cloth covering it.

Beneath the cloth lay the corpse of a muscular man dressed in a tank top, shorts, and sneakers.

“Lin Zhiyuan?!” Ye Miaozhu gasped in shock.

Zhang Yangxu was surprised: “You know him?”

Ye Miaozhu nodded: “Lin Zhiyuan is a native of Guzhen, works away from home—I heard he’s a fitness coach. Every holiday, he returns to his hometown and often visits the village clinic where Yunqing and I interned to buy medicine, supplements, and hygiene products.” Ye Miaozhu remembered him clearly—he always subtly flirted with her, repeatedly trying to add her on WeChat, a shallow fellow. Nothing like Gu Yunqing’s refined, considerate, warm sense of safety.

Too bad Gu Yunqing was already dead.

“I never expected he’d be dragged into this too,” Ye Miaozhu murmured, staring down at Lin Zhiyuan’s corpse, her emotions tangled.

Zhang Yangxu then asked: “Could you please examine his body?”

“Alright.” Ye Miaozhu cast a long look at Ning Zhe standing nearby, then knelt down to begin her inspection.

“Like Gu Yunqing and Xie Sining, Lin Zhiyuan shows no signs of internal or external injuries, no poisoning, no strangulation—his death scene is identical to theirs.” She quickly concluded.

But unlike Xie Sining, Lin Zhiyuan’s body hadn’t been submerged in cold river water for long—his body temperature had dissipated normally in the air, and an experienced physician could easily determine his time of death.

“Lin Zhiyuan died very recently—around two hours ago, at midnight,” Ye Miaozhu said, rising and scanning the group: “Does that match?”

Zhang Yangxu nodded: “It matches. Sining and I entered the hall just minutes after midnight—and before we arrived, Ning Zhe was already here.”

Behind Ning Zhe, Feng Yushu clapped both hands over her mouth in disbelief, her eyes wide with terror. She instinctively tried to step back from Ning Zhe, but her legs, paralyzed by fear, refused to move, nearly collapsing beneath her.

“You’re suggesting you suspect I killed Lin Zhiyuan?” Ning Zhe’s face still wore a smile, utterly unreadable.

Zhang Yangxu shook his head: “I didn’t say that.”

“Then what are you implying?”

“I only want to ask you one thing—did Lin Zhiyuan’s death happen because of the almanac?” Zhang Yangxu lowered his voice: “You were the first to arrive at the hall and turned the almanac to today—then came Lin Zhiyuan.”

“Lin Zhiyuan may have arrived after you, or with you. Maybe his curiosity got the better of him—or maybe you encouraged him. Either way, in the end, Lin Zhiyuan tried to turn the almanac to tomorrow, just like the ghost impersonating Gu Yunqing.”

And then he died.

“Tell me—is that how it happened?” Ye Miaozhu asked.

Ning Zhe clapped his hands lightly, smiling with approval: “Exactly as you said.”

His straightforward confirmation left Zhang Yangxu and Ye Miaozhu in silence; only Feng Yushu let out a long, relieved breath.

With the rule established—that flipping to tomorrow’s almanac = death—the ghost’s killing logic now made sense.

In Hejiacun, there were two rules: the almanac’s fortune that influenced luck, and the Snake God’s death taboo that killed on contact.

The mysterious entity wandering the village, capable of assuming the identities of the dead, had no direct power to kill—the killer was the Snake God.

(End of Chapter)