Volume One, Chapter 30: Selected!

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At that instant, Zhu Qianqian felt a splitting pain tear through her skull. She heard the dull thud of bone, then everything went black, and she collapsed unconscious...

Chen Xianxian set down the hammer and quickly wrapped Zhu Qianqian’s head in a piece of cloth, preventing the blood seeping from her skin from staining the floor.

She cautiously opened the door again. After confirming that no one was nearby, she closed it.

...

When Luo Bin was awakened, the clock on the wall had just struck half past two. The family of three left the courtyard.

Pedestrians hurried along the road, all heading in the same direction.

Whenever someone caught sight of Luo Bin’s face, they would take a few extra looks and exchange a couple of whispered remarks with the family or friends beside them.

About ten minutes later, they arrived at their destination. There stood an unusually large building, even bigger than the Mountain God Temple. Its beams and pillars were immense, yet the interior was remarkably empty. Only along the walls stood dense rows of spirit tablets...

There was only one person inside.

No—half a person.

His chest had been torn open, his ribs scraped clean until scarcely a shred of flesh remained. His abdominal cavity was just as hollow; every organ had vanished without a trace.

His face was worst of all, gnawed away until the edges were horribly uneven, exposing the ghastly white bones of his skull. It was both terrifying and gruesome.

The area outside the building was packed with people, every face revealing undisguised horror.

Gu Ya held her face rigid, looking deeply uncomfortable.

Luo Feng said nothing, his brows drawing together ever more tightly.

Luo Bin swallowed. He had seen corpses like this several times already, yet he still felt like vomiting.

“Why hasn’t the village chief arrived yet...? In the past, he always got here before two when it was time to draw lots...”

“Who died? How long ago?”

“Who knows...? The village chief isn’t here, and no one even knows who opened the ancestral hall.”

“Damn, what rotten luck. Nothing this serious has happened in the village for ages. In the few days before and after the outsiders entered the village, first it was Toothless Zhang’s entire family of four, then Zhang Jun tried to kill someone, and now another person is dead...”

The discussions were chaotic, and the villagers’ emotions were anything but calm.

“Wait for the village chief! No shouting, no causing a scene. The lots are drawn by name. If someone doesn’t answer when called, we’ll know who it is!” a man suddenly shouted from within the crowd before stepping forward.

It was Old Kong, the round-faced man with freckles. He waved toward Luo Feng and several others in the crowd, signaling them to come outside.

Luo Feng, Gu Ya, and Luo Bin nodded and walked over to Old Kong.

Several other sturdy men emerged as well. Luo Bin had long since realized that these men were something like the guards or militia of old: they carried out the village chief’s orders and maintained a semblance of order.

Sure enough, the crowd quieted considerably.

“Xiaoshan, don’t be afraid either,” Gu Ya said softly. “It’s normal for something to happen to someone. There will always be people tricked out of their homes by evil spirits.”

Gu Ya was clearly frightened herself, yet she managed to remain composed in front of Luo Bin.

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“It’s all right, Mom. I understand,” Luo Bin replied, drawing a quiet breath.

Zhong Zhicheng arrived.

The crowd parted of its own accord. Once he entered the ancestral hall, his expression changed slightly.

“Take him to the mortuary first. I’ll deal with it after the drawing,” Zhong Zhicheng said, sweeping his gaze over Luo Feng and the others.

Old Kong nodded at Luo Feng and stepped forward to handle the corpse.

Apart from him, a tall, powerfully built man also came to help, gathering the severed remains and carrying them out of the ancestral hall.

The other men returned to the crowd.

Zhong Zhicheng entered a room on the left side of the ancestral hall and brought out a large wooden bucket filled to the brim with bamboo slips.

“Each family whose name is called will send one person forward to draw. The old rule still applies: a black-tipped slip counts as a winning draw.” Zhong Zhicheng placed the bucket directly beneath the spirit tablets.

Standing beside it, he took out a booklet about the size of his palm and began calling out names.

One after another, people came forward to draw. At first, they were all trembling with fear, but whenever they pulled out an ordinary bamboo slip, their faces broke into delighted smiles.

Before long, Luo Feng and Old Kong returned with the others.

By coincidence, Old Kong’s name was called. He drew an ordinary slip and let out a sigh of relief.

Then Luo Bin heard the name Zhang Li.

The tall, thin Zhang Li stepped out of the crowd, a trace of unease on his face.

The villagers whispered among themselves, pointing and gesturing. Some muttered that it was bad luck; others said he was certain to draw the black slip.

“Your family has only just entered the village, so you’re exempt this time,” Zhong Zhicheng said.

Zhang Li immediately relaxed and retreated into the crowd.

The villagers’ muttering made his face burn.

He felt uncomfortable being called unlucky.

What did a death in the village have to do with him?

What troubled him even more was Zhu Qianqian.

He had merely gone into the room to tie up Gu Yiren. When he came out, he had intended to tell Zhu Qianqian that there would be a drawing in the afternoon and that she needed to stay home and keep watch over Gu Yiren.

Yet Zhu Qianqian had inexplicably disappeared.

“Chen Xianxian.” Zhong Zhicheng called another name.

A young woman with hair falling to her waist walked gracefully out of the crowd.

“My sister is at home. I’m Xianxian,” she said in a soft, delicate voice.

“Mm. Draw a slip.” Zhong Zhicheng pointed toward the bucket.

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Luo Bin took another look at the young woman, feeling that she seemed familiar.

Then he remembered. After he had been beaten inside a sack, it was this girl who had opened the door and asked whether he was all right, whether he needed medicine, and whether she should find a spirit medium to examine him.

Chen Xianxian drew an ordinary slip.

“Luo Feng,” Zhong Zhicheng called another name.

“Dad, shall I go?” Luo Bin asked quietly, gathering his thoughts.

“Mm. Go ahead.” Luo Feng nodded.

Only then did Luo Bin step forward.

As he brushed past Chen Xianxian, she looked at him in surprise.

“Oh? You’ve been beaten again? They’re really going too far,” she said.

Luo Bin gave an awkward smile.

From the corner of his eye, however, he noticed Luo Feng’s expression darken once more, his face turning black as soot.

When he reached Zhong Zhicheng, Luo Bin kept his expression as neutral as possible and reached into the bucket.

Zhong Zhicheng glanced at Luo Bin’s face but said nothing.

Luo Bin drew out a slip by its tip. As the entire bamboo strip emerged, a transparent roof tile directly above happened to let in a shaft of sunlight. The light fell upon the pitch-black tip, and Luo Bin’s heart suddenly gave a painful lurch.

What the hell?

Had he drawn it?

His plan had been simple: make himself more conspicuous in front of the villagers so that he could become more deeply integrated into the village.

There were hundreds of bamboo slips in the bucket, perhaps even enough for nearly a thousand people to draw. The odds were one in a thousand. There was no way it could possibly be his turn.

“Black slip. Three days from now, on the first day of the lunar month, the Luo family will be responsible for scouting the mountain,” Zhong Zhicheng announced in a deep, solemn voice, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Luo Bin turned around.

Luo Feng’s expression had barely changed.

Gu Ya, however, had gone deathly pale, her hands gripping the hem of her clothes tightly.

Most of the villagers looked relieved. Then, when they looked at Luo Bin, their eyes held a trace of mockery—and perhaps even the faintest hint of schadenfreude.

“I still have more names to call. Those who have no problem, answer when I call you, so we can confirm who the deceased was,” Zhong Zhicheng said even louder. Then he turned to Luo Bin. “Take the black slip home.”

Luo Bin’s face stiffened slightly. Sweat still beaded at his temples, and his heartbeat seemed to drop into an indescribable void.

Although Luo Feng remained calm, the expressions of the villagers and Gu Ya told Luo Bin that this matter was absolutely not as simple as it appeared.