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This is an undoubtedly divine and deceitful world.
Where Daoist magic manifests, mountain spirits and wild ghosts proudly roar through forests, demons and ghosts emerge relentlessly, and even the eternally sought-after immortality is not mere fantasy.
Apart from the exceedingly lavish grave goods, the bones left by princes, generals, and renowned figures of green history that lie within the great tombs on Beimang Mountain are some of the most superior materials for practicing the arts.
Of course, they would not be unguarded.
The Wang Family, living at the foot of the mountain in Ancient Locust Ridge's Daling Village, has been responsible for guarding the royal mausoleum of this lineage since the burial of the first Luoyang King of the Great Yan Dynasty, "Yili King Zhou Yi."
This duty has been passed down through the generations of the Wang Clan and has continued for nearly two hundred years to this day.
By coincidence,
Wang Yuan, who was born into this family, accidentally discovered that in this life, not only his name, appearance, birth date and even birthmarks are exactly the same as in his previous life, as if he were another self in a parallel world.
Having been alone in his previous life, to be able to live again with this starting point, with the hope of glimpsing the Daoist Immortal Skills that could grant immortality, should indeed be a very good thing.
But most members of the Wang Clan, led by the clan leader Wang Yunhu, obviously didn't think so.
His line had been the main branch of the dukes, the eldest sons, and the grandsons, the direct lineage of the clan leaders for two hundred years, with no exception.
In theory, even though Wang Yuan's parents passed away early, leaving him an orphan, and he was born with "foolishness," he shouldn't pose any threat to others' interests or be in a situation that warrants elimination.
But how could anyone ignore the one thousand mu of private fields under the name of this sole heir of the main branch?
Although the Wang Clan had not only received a salary from the Great Yan Court over the years but also had tax-free clan fields to sustain themselves, living a relatively prosperous life,
the clan fields, the foundation of the family, amounted to only two thousand mu.
It was no wonder everybody coveted the one thousand mu of good land awarded to Wang Yuan's grandfather for his military achievements.
An innocent man incurs blame by possessing a treasure.
A vile tradition since ancient times—devouring a destitute family—naturally befell Wang Yuan.
And the current clan leader, Wang Yunhu, knew how to be a man of the people.
Though he took the lion's share for himself, he also understood the beauty of sharing. Everyone in the clan who could breathe got a slice of the pie.
Nobody in the clan cared that this was the legacy someone had fought for with their life, on the contrary, they all praised Wang Yunhu for his benevolence.
Those few with a conscience at most turned a blind eye, opting to remain ignorant.
Seeing that Wang Yuan was about a month away from turning fifteen, at which point he would be officially registered for military service and begin receiving a salary from the Court as a formal Tomb Guardian.
The clan would have to report to the "Daling Department," which oversees the affairs of the mausoleums of various princely mansions, and even the "Divine Palace Supervisor" in the Capital who guards the imperial mausoleum.
By then, the clan's joint encroachment on Wang Yuan's family lands would inevitably be unable to be hidden.
In fact, even if they didn't report it, the higher-ups would surely inquire and evaluate.
Therefore...this "corpse sacrifice" with him as the protagonist was conceived.
Wang Yuan looked at the dim candlelight in the empty and gloomy ancestral hall, revealing an ugly smile:
"The whole clan is thinking about killing me stealthily, then comfortably inheriting my thousand mu of good land.
If I weren't a 'fool,' I probably wouldn't even be alive now, and I would have obliviously been reborn already.
No, in this divine and deceitful world, it's difficult to even be reborn peacefully and start anew."
Lucky to be considered a "fool," when others plotted and schemed, they didn't bother to avoid him, naturally allowing him to eavesdrop on quite a bit of insider information.
Life and death crisis comes tonight!
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In this world where Daoist magic manifests, the "corpse" in "corpse sacrifice" is naturally not so easy to play.
The basic condition is simply being a blood-linked descendant, but normally one must be over twenty, with sufficient Qi-Blood, a tough Eight Characters, and belong to a grand zodiac sign, preferably Dragon, Tiger, Ox, or Horse.
Even so, it couldn't prevent accidents from happening.
For the role of the "corpse" is to communicate with ghost gods, and sometimes it's even the vessel for these spirits, naturally attracting negative Yin forces!
If one doesn't set up protections in advance during the ritual, using vermilion, peach wood, talismans, and magic artifacts.
It's secondary if the ancestors don't show up, but if by some mischance it attracts vicious wandering Yin Objects, or even Weird entities that ordinary mortals can't possibly resist, the end is likely too brutal to watch.
Wang Yuan could never forget the sight of the "corpse" carried out from the ancestral hall on the second day of the ancestral ritual six years ago.
His body was pitch black, shriveled, and emaciated, having turned from a mock "corpse" into a real corpse.
Although Wang Yuan was a direct descendant of the Duke, and even born in the Year of the Tiger, he hadn't even reached his fifteenth birthday and didn't meet the conditions for being a "corpse."
But having reached this point, not a single person in the clan raised an objection, the shady dealings behind this were only too clear.
What's more helpless was that even though Wang Yuan had fully regained consciousness, he now had no way to escape.
As part of the ritual proceedings, the "corpse" must sit in the ancestral hall for an entire night, serving as a substitute for the ancestors to enjoy the offerings and incense, not allowed to leave the hall for even a step.
Wang Yuan knew all too well that although there was no one in sight, there must be clan members arranged by Wang Yunhu outside the hall, ready to act on any sign of trouble.
Once he broke the rules and ran out, whether he'd be dragged back into the hall or killed on the spot for disrespecting his ancestors was out of his hands.
At the initial return of his full consciousness, he had fallen into such a dire situation.
All he could do was to fill up all the oil lamps in the hall with incense oil and place all the peach wood magic artifacts that had been worshipped in the hall for years around him.
He then consoled himself:
"It's fine, it's fine, the Wang Family conducts a 'corpse sacrifice' for the ancestors every year, and in the past decade, there was only that one mishap, right?"
He settled back on the altar, eyes fixedly staring at the entrance of the hall.
He made up his mind that should nothing untoward occur, it will be fine, but at the first sign of trouble, he'd immediately run for it, let those outside be his scapegoats!
But.
As the night grew deeper, Wang Yuan, already exhausted from being ordered around all day, inexplicably felt his eyelids getting heavier.
Unable to suppress the feeling, he eventually sank into a deep sleep right there on the altar.
The night deepened, and the entire village fell into silence.
Suddenly.
Drip, drip...
Feeling somewhat cold, Wang Yuan was startled awake by the sound of water dripping near his ear.
"Is it raining?"
In a groggy half-asleep state, a thought flashed through his mind.
Just as he was about to get up, he was shocked to find that his whole body seemed to be pinned down by a heavy weight, unable to move even his fingers.
It wasn't until he used all his strength to open his eyelids, heavy as if weighted down with lead, that he could see clearly the thing standing in front of him.
Hiss!
His scalp exploded, and cold sweat soaked his back in an instant.