Ding Shi stepped forward and struck up a conversation with the villagers, quickly blending into the crowd. The villagers were preparing sacrificial supplies, but Ding Shi noticed a few things that made little sense to him. If you wanted to go retro, using lanterns was understandable. If you wanted to embrace modernity, lightbulbs made sense too. But wrapping a lantern around a lightbulb—what was the point of that? Were they trying to fool a ghost?
Whatever the reason, this was Ding Shi's first time seeing the statue of San Niang. It appeared to be a one-to-one replica carved from wood, though Ding Shi had no idea what kind of wood it was. The statue's facial features were somewhat indistinct. Clad in a red bridal robe, it sat on a chair with hands resting on its knees, staring straight ahead.
Ding Shi slipped into the back hall to scout the area, but he saw no sign of the cave Blind Zhao had mentioned. It was just an ordinary back hall. Parts of the wooden walls had begun to rot from years of rainwater exposure, and village craftsmen were currently repairing them. The floor was packed dirt, showing no traces of any hidden mechanisms.
Could Blind Zhao be playing him for a fool?
Ding Shi decided to return tonight for another look. After all, there were several suspicious points. Suspicion one: there might be a secret passage beneath the statue. Suspicion two: two rugs were laid out in the back hall. Suspicion three: the back hall bordered the rear mountain, so perhaps dismantling a few wallboards would reveal the cave.
Mind made up, Ding Shi headed back to the village chief's house for lunch and an afternoon nap. At three in the afternoon, the village chief woke him with three quests. Quest one: two villager households were in conflict over irrigation water across a field ridge. Quest two: a chicken had stolen Auntie Li's vegetables, prompting Auntie Li to stomp the unlucky bird to death; Auntie Sun had stormed over to Auntie Li's doorstep demanding an explanation. Quest three: express condolences to the night patrol and inform them that they could resume work as usual tonight.
Ding Shi completed the first two quests without a hitch. When he went to comfort the night patrol, he notified them that they could work tonight as usual, but must not leave the village office.
He failed to exploit this loophole. The system deemed the quest failed, though fortunately he only lost two points of the village chief's satisfaction. Ding Shi still had no idea what the village chief's satisfaction was actually used for.
After dinner, at the village chief's request, Ding Shi went to visit Sun Qi, who had already recovered. Still haunted by the shadow of Grandma Wang's ghost, Sun Qi looked at Ding Shi as if seeing family, tearfully trying to hug him for comfort. Ding Shi, disgusted by the thought of getting covered in tears, dodged nimbly aside and turned to Dr. Qian. "What medicine did you give her? Can I get a dozen?"
Dr. Qian said Sun Qi had merely suffered a bad fright and was physically fine. The biggest issue now was that Sun Qi refused to leave Dr. Qian's house, following her every footstep like a shadow. It seemed she had genuinely been terrified out of her wits last night.
The villagers suffered from no misconceptions; they knew about the ghost grandma, which was why every household had shuttered their doors last night. Perhaps a few disbelieved, but in rural areas back then, people treated such matters with the mindset that it was better to believe than risk disbelief.
Only after Ding Shi repeatedly assured her that the ghost grandma was gone did Sun Qi's emotions stabilize somewhat. She then made an awkward request, asking if Ding Shi would stay the night with her.
Ding Shi naturally refused. Setting aside whether he would be getting the short end of the stick—after all, taking a loss was a blessing—the main reason was that he had big plans tonight. How could he let a woman of less-than-stunning appearance slow the speed of his blade draw?
***
Day four, 11:00 p.m.
Ding Shi scaled the low wall of the village chief's house with practiced ease. The moon was feeling shy tonight, ducking behind thin clouds, making the light considerably dimmer than the night before.
Dressed in black with a claw hammer tucked into his waistband at the back, Ding Shi didn't dare turn on his flashlight. Relying on memory, he felt his way along the path toward San Niang Temple. The night was late, and every household had already turned out their lights and gone to sleep. During the day, Ding Shi had already gotten on good terms with two dogs, so when he passed in front of their owners' houses, neither barked.
The doors of San Niang Temple were closed. The key was in Haitang's possession; every day she would go open the doors with Zhang San and offer a stick of incense together. Ding Shi had never considered stealing the key. He circled around to the temple's rear wall. Using the claw hammer to pull several iron nails, he dismantled the wooden planks that had been repaired earlier that day.
Staring at the pitch-black opening, Ding Shi genuinely hesitated for two seconds before recalling an age-old motto: *Since I'm already here.* Gritting his teeth, Ding Shi squeezed into the back hall of San Niang Temple.
Turning on his flashlight, Ding Shi first inspected the two rugs lying on the back hall floor. Nothing was amiss; it seemed the villagers had told the truth, and these were indeed kneeling rugs for the ceremonial chanting choir during sacrifices.
Crossing the threshold, Ding Shi reached the front hall. Rather than rushing to touch the statue, he first checked the surrounding area. To avoid being detected, he kept the flashlight beam as close to the ground as possible, practically feeling his way across the front hall inch by inch.
Nothing in the back hall, nothing in the front hall—that left only the altar table and the statue atop it.
Shining the flashlight beam onto San Niang's face, Ding Shi was startled. Why had the statue's facial contours become so distinct? There wasn't a single chisel mark visible; it looked just like a living person.
Ding Shi pulled out the bell card with his left hand, gripping the brass bell in his palm. Circling from San Niang's left side to her right, he kept his eyes locked onto the statue. Though he couldn't be certain, he felt as if San Niang's eyeballs had tracked him from left to right.
This makes no scientific sense! Oh, right, Grandma Wang's ghost didn't make scientific sense either. Wait, that's not right—Newton studied science to prove metaphysics. Rumor has it that many great scientists turned to metaphysics in their later years.
Even with guts as big as an ox, Ding Shi didn't dare step forward just yet, settling for pacing back and forth to observe the statue. He even recited a bit of impromptu doggerel: *From afar a statue, up close a true face; the more I look the more human, until in this place...*
Circling back from the right to the left, Ding Shi finally confirmed one thing: San Niang's eyes reflected light. That left two possibilities. Possibility one: metaphysics. Possibility two: a mechanism.
Should he go up and check?
*Since I'm already here.*
Ding Shi vaulted lightly onto the table and crept closer to San Niang on the altar. The closer he got, the more wrong it felt. When he was right up against it, Ding Shi reached out and touched the corner of San Niang's left eye with his left index finger. His fingertip felt moisture. Shining the flashlight on his hand, he rubbed his fingers together and deduced that the liquid was likely tears.
At that moment, Ding Shi had only one thought: the villagers had stuffed a living person into the wooden carving.
To prove whether it was really tears, there was one direct method: give it a lick to see if it was salty or bland.
While Ding Shi was still hesitating over whether to make such a sacrifice, he clearly saw two streams of tears trickle down from the corners of the wooden carving's eyes. Ding Shi felt no fear then, only anger: Was Taoyuan Village truly using living people as sacrifices?
Ding Shi touched San Niang's eyes. San Niang didn't blink, only wept. The texture beneath his fingertips told Ding Shi that the eyes he was touching were definitely not human eyes.
Ding Shi brought his own eyes five centimeters away from San Niang's eyes, trying to spot a water-spraying mechanism, but in vain.
Ding Shi sat cross-legged before San Niang, pondering a few questions.
First question: the reason San Niang was crying. One: San Niang knew he was here to steal a great treasure, so she wept. Two: having inhaled too much incense smoke during the day, even wood couldn't help but cry. Three: there is no three; he couldn't think of any other reason.
Even if Ding Shi projected himself into the metaphysical realm and treated the wooden carving as San Niang's true body, he still couldn't understand why she would shed tears. She was Xie Sanniang, not Du Shiniang!
Chapter 17