At eight in the morning on the sixth day, a large crowd of villagers gathered outside San Niang Temple. Word had gotten out—no one knew quite from where—that this year's sacrifice had been sabotaged, drawing them in droves to cluster before the temple doors. Just then, they ran into Daoist Baiyun, Blind Zhao, and the village chief. Seeing the three together convinced the villagers that the rumors were almost certainly true, and they crowded around them, clamoring to know what had happened.
Ding Shi came down the mountain right around this time. Seeing such a large crowd outside the temple, he paid them little mind and headed first to the village chief's house to wash up and eat breakfast. Aunt Li happened to drop by and pulled the village chief's daughter-in-law aside to whisper gossip. Ding Shi pricked up his ears and caught a snippet, learning that news of trouble with the sacrifice had already spread throughout the village.
Once he had eaten and drunk his fill, Ding Shi made his way to San Niang Temple. By then, the village chief had persuaded most of the villagers to leave, keeping behind only several venerable village elders, as well as Haitang and Zhang San.
Haitang unlocked the temple doors with a key and entered first with Zhang San while the others waited at the entrance. Together, Haitang and Zhang San lit incense, bowed three times before the statue of San Niang, and placed the incense into the burner. With their daily quest completed, the village chief and the others were finally able to enter the temple.
Ding Shi had assumed that Zhang San, being a player, had messed around and caused the problem with the sacrifice. To his surprise, after some preliminary questioning, Ding Shi became the prime suspect and was summoned into the temple by the village chief.
Daoist Baiyun and the others sat lined up along a bench against the wall, cutting an imposing figure. Zhang San and Haitang stood off to the side; Haitang kept her head lowered, staring at the tips of her shoes, while Zhang San glared furiously at Ding Shi as he walked in.
The village chief dispensed with pleasantries and cut straight to the chase. "Xiao Ding, when did you see San Niang's tears?"
Ding Shi replied, "Village Chief, I already told you, I lied. I didn't see any tears."
The village chief said sternly, "Xiao Ding, this matter concerns the lives of several hundred people in our Taoyuan Village. You must tell the truth."
Ding Shi did not answer immediately, taking a moment to size up the situation. Blind Zhao stood up, walked over to Ding Shi's side, and said, "It's my fault. I shouldn't have told him there was a great treasure inside San Niang's coffin."
Ding Shi nodded and pointed at Blind Zhao. "He confessed."
Everyone was struck speechless.
The village chief cleared his throat, had Blind Zhao sit back down, and asked, "Xiao Ding, did you enter San Niang Temple after nine o'clock at night?"
Ding Shi asked, "Village Chief, what do you mean by that?"
The village chief explained, "During the seven days before the sacrifice, no one is permitted to enter San Niang Temple outside the hours when the temple doors are open. The temple opens around eight in the morning and closes around nine at night. If you entered San Niang Temple after nine at night, you might have offended San Niang."
Ding Shi looked utterly bewildered. Offended? Collided with her? Did she see him and drop dead of fright?
Daoist Baiyun spoke up, his tone as cultured and gentle as ever, and explained the situation.
Daoist Baiyun's master—the expert who had sealed San Niang—had separated San Niang's soul from her body. Her soul resided within the statue in San Niang Temple, receiving daily offerings of incense to dissolve the ominous malice within it.
When the negative emotions of San Niang's soul—otherwise known as resentment—grew extraordinarily fierce, the statue would shed tears. A resentful San Niang could not ascend to godhood, and the sacrifice would fail.
None of that was the crux of the matter. The real danger was that once the sacrifice failed, the resentful San Niang would become a malevolent ghost that made Taoyuan Village its dwelling place.
Right now, there was a rather serious problem: even Daoist Baiyun could not be certain whether the sacrifice had already failed.
To understand why, one had to look at the complete procedure for the sacrifice.
At midnight on the seventh day, the bridegroom, Zhang San, would set out from the village entrance with an entourage of friends and relatives beating gongs, drumming, and carrying a bridal sedan chair all the way to Haitang's house. At seven in the morning, the two would head to San Niang Temple to bow to Heaven and Earth and complete the wedding ceremony. Afterward, the bridegroom and bride would serve tea to the actors playing San Niang's parents and receive a red envelope.
Next, the villagers participating in the sacrifice would take turns offering incense to San Niang.
At noon, a feast of over thirty tables would be laid out, with a table set inside San Niang Temple as the head table. The bridegroom would toast each table. Around two in the afternoon, when the banquet concluded, the village elders would carry the bride onto the sedan chair, escorting the bride and groom to the village entrance amidst festive music and fanfare.
The basic ritual ended there; put plainly, it was a simulation of a rural wedding. The final rite of the sacrifice was performed by Blind Zhao. He would transcribe a written memorial identical to the one used for a century, kneel before the statue of San Niang to read it aloud, and then burn it so that the memorial would reach the Heavenly Court directly.
If the sacrifice succeeded, everything would conclude smoothly. The problem was: what would happen if it failed? No one knew, because nothing had gone wrong for ninety-nine years. Whether it was truly due to San Niang or not, ever since San Niang Temple was built and the first annual sacrifice held, Taoyuan Village had enjoyed favorable weather, repeatedly avoided wartime turmoil, suffered few childhood deaths, and boasted far more long-lived elders than neighboring villages.
Even today, Taoyuan Village grew tobacco leaves alongside rice, and its per capita income was far higher than that of other villages.
Consequently, the people of Taoyuan Village were convinced that San Niang protected their village, making them take the sacrifice even more seriously.
Although Daoist Baiyun had some cultivation, he was a theoretician at heart; he had no way of knowing how to verify whether the sacrifice had succeeded or failed. Thus, his idea was to trace the problem to its root, seeking out every possible cause of failure in order to remedy it.
San Niang shedding tears meant she was filled with negative emotions. Negative emotions came in many forms, such as anger. Seeing someone bullied in the village and being unable to help them might provoke anger. To dispel that anger, one had to find the bully and make him confess his guilt to San Niang, begging for her forgiveness.
Or jealousy: perhaps San Niang grew jealous of girls prettier than herself, in which case smearing the girl's face with soot would probably fool her.
Once Daoist Baiyun finished speaking, Ding Shi looked at Zhang San and Haitang right away. "Did you two sleep together?" If he remembered correctly, the village chief had instructed them not to share a bed.
Haitang was startled. She squatted down, buried her face in her knees, and wept quietly.
Furious, Zhang San strode up to Ding Shi and demanded, "What the hell does that have to do with you?"
Ding Shi said, "The village chief instructed you not to share a bed. If you slept together, San Niang would be displeased."
The village chief corrected him, "Xiao Ding, that's not it. The only reason I told them not to share a bed was that Haitang is only eighteen and still an unmarried maiden. I was worried... you understand? That was my own rule, not a requirement of the sacrifice. In fact, in the past, we had real newlyweds play their roles."
Ding Shi was stunned. When Blind Zhao said there was trouble with the sacrifice, Ding Shi had guessed it was a player messing around, and that person would naturally be Zhang San. On the first day when identities were handed out, Haitang clearly took a liking to Zhang San, and Zhang San was obviously no gentleman. Living for six days with a pretty young girl like Haitang, it would be abnormal if he hadn't entertained any ideas.
Yet now the village chief was telling Ding Shi that whether they shared a bed had nothing to do with whether San Niang shed tears. That left only one suspect: himself, the one who had seen San Niang weeping.
Looked at this way, it seemed plausible. Could his sneaking into San Niang Temple at night have truly offended her? Or did the wooden carving of San Niang know that he had pried open her coffin lid at Baiyun Temple?
Ding Shi asked, "Is there any chance her eyes were irritated by the flashlight beam, and that's why she shed a few tears?"
The elders all glared darkly at Ding Shi. Daoist Baiyun smoothed things over for him: "If it is limited to that, you need only offer incense and apologize to San Niang. I believe she will forgive you."
Chapter 24