Chapter 6: The First Drop of Blood

“One flashlight is enough—we don’t know when we’ll get out, so save your phone battery; turn on power-saving mode.” Ning Zhe said, turning on his own flashlight: “I’ll handle it—I’ve got a power bank on me.”

“Alright.” Feng Yushu nodded.

The two moved through the alleyways under the beam of their flashlight; beneath their feet, the stone pavement hummed with the sound of flowing water—the drainage channels built beneath the slabs.

As Zhang Yangxu had said, every door in Hejia Village was shut tonight, every window barred. Ning Zhe tried several doors in succession—all locked from the inside, impossible to push open. He stopped.

“Hmm… Ning Zhe?” Feng Yushu whispered.

“Nothing. I want to ask you something.” Ning Zhe mused: “You said earlier that after you pushed open your hotel room door, you arrived here—and the stainless steel handle in your hand instantly turned into a copper bolt, and the hotel security door became an old wooden one…”

Feng Yushu nodded rapidly: “That’s right. What do you want to know?”

“I want to know where the door you opened when you first arrived in Hejia Village is.” Ning Zhe said directly: “Let’s go there and take a look.”

“Huh? Okay.” Feng Yushu agreed, stepping ahead to lead the way.

The snake god shrine stood at the southern edge of Hejia Village, but the door Feng Yushu had pushed open upon arrival lay near the village center. From the shrine, she led Ning Zhe northward, deeper between rows of stone-walled, tiled houses.

Along the way, Ning Zhe kept trying to push at the closed doors lining the streets, but each attempt yielded nothing suspicious. In the quiet stillness, the two crossed the labyrinth of cobblestone lanes under moonlight—until a stone arch bridge appeared before them.

Hejia Village was built beside water, split down the middle by a river flowing north to south, dividing the village into eastern and western halves. Three arch bridges crossed the river; the one before Ning Zhe was the southernmost.

After crossing the bridge to the opposite bank, not far ahead stood the very house Feng Yushu had emerged from when she first arrived in Hejia Village.

“This is it.” Feng Yushu brought Ning Zhe to the front of the house. He noticed the door opened outward—this was the first door he’d seen open since leaving the shrine.

“It’s only one story, empty inside—just scattered straw on the floor. Probably a woodshed or abandoned cowshed.” Ning Zhe closed the door, then opened it again—nothing happened: “As expected…”

It was impossible to find the village’s exit so easily.

Feng Yushu glanced at her watch: 01:10 a.m.

Forty minutes had passed; less than an hour remained until their agreed-upon one-and-a-half-hour meeting time.

“Let’s head back. Should we check other places along the way?” Feng Yushu asked.

“That’s all we can do.” Ning Zhe had no better direction.

The two left the empty house with its open door and retraced their steps across the arch bridge. The clouds overhead had cleared; moonlight spilled down, and the river beneath the bridge flowed with a crisp, clear murmur.

Ning Zhe walked quickly, one hand resting on the bridge’s stone railing—when suddenly, the ground gave way beneath his foot.

“Ning Zhe!” Feng Yushu gasped in horror.

With a sharp crack of crumbling stone, Ning Zhe lost his balance instantly—his leg plunged through the collapsing bridge surface. But his reflexes were fast; he braced himself with both hands, halting his descent. The long stone slab he’d stepped on had split cleanly in half and tumbled into the river below, sending up a great splash.

“...What the hell…” Ning Zhe frowned, climbing out of the hole, leaping down from the bridge in three strides, heart still pounding.

Feng Yushu rushed over, shining her flashlight over him: “Are you hurt? Thank goodness you’re okay… How could this happen? The stone bridge just collapsed…”

Ning Zhe stood at the bridge’s edge, one hand gripping a stone pillar, equally bewildered.

“What’s going on… Why am I so unlucky? And why such blunt misfortune?” Recalling the near-disaster, Ning Zhe was shaken: “I didn’t break any taboos—so why did this happen?” Wait… did I really break none?

Ning Zhe recalled today’s auspicious and inauspicious omens: [Good for:]

[Avoid: Travel, Burial, Mourning, Sacrifice]

“I definitely didn’t violate ‘Travel.’ Hiding Lin Zhiyuan’s body under the altar isn’t ‘Burial’ or ‘Mourning,’ and ‘Sacrifice’ is nonsense—I didn’t sacrifice to anyone.”

Ning Zhe’s mind raced, retracing every action since midnight—but found nothing conflicting with today’s almanac taboos.

“I broke no taboo, yet I still suffered misfortune for no reason. That makes no sense. Did the snake god go mad and start killing randomly, no longer needing a taboo as excuse?” He could only offer this explanation.

But reason told Ning Zhe this explanation might not be right.

“No—think again. Did I really break no taboo at all?”

Ning Zhe replayed the past hour again and again: “Travel… no. Burial—unlikely. Mourning—no. Could it be Sacrifice? Did I do anything that counts as ‘Sacrifice’? Who did I sacrifice to?!”

Feng Yushu watched Ning Zhe’s grim face with growing dread—his inexplicable misfortune terrified her.

“Wait… Sacrifice? Yes—that’s it. That’s the only possibility.” A sudden insight flashed through Ning Zhe’s mind—he understood: “It was Sacrifice. I sacrificed to the snake god… I offered Lin Zhiyuan’s body as an offering.”

Everything now made sense—even why their group had entered the shrine during the snake god’s episode without harm.

“Ning Zhe? Are you alright?” Feng Yushu asked cautiously.

“I’m fine.” Ning Zhe sighed, shaking his head: “I unknowingly broke today’s taboo—that’s what caused the misfortune just now. But I’ve figured out why.”

The bridge collapse had been dangerous, but not a fatal blood-misfortune—after all, he’d broken only one taboo. The snake god was merciful. This wasn’t yet a death sentence.

“We must be extra careful from now on. No more taboo violations.” Ning Zhe muttered to himself.

He looked up at Feng Yushu: “Let’s go. Back to the shrine, quickly.”

“Okay.” Feng Yushu nodded rapidly—but as she turned to move, her phone rang.

Unlocking the screen, the caller was—Xie Sining.

“Why is Xie Sining calling?” Feng Yushu answered, puzzled.

Before she could even greet, her face turned deathly pale. She pointed at the river and screamed: “Ning Zhe! There’s something in the water!”

Ning Zhe spun around instantly. There, in the slow current, floated a human-shaped object, drifting gently downstream.

Under the bright moonlight, they could make out the woman’s suit jacket wrapped around the body, the tight skirt and black stockings below. One high heel had been swept away; only two silk straps remained dangling from her ankles, fluttering in the water.

“This corpse… is Xie Sining?”

(End of Chapter)