At the foot of the North Slope of Mang Mountain.
The edge of a continuous ridge densely planted with pines and cypresses.
"Mother, Xiao Lan made chicken soup today, she scooped the chicken head, feet, and butt right into your bowl. It's so fragrant, please eat it while it's hot."
The old woman, her face full of wrinkles and hair all white, tremulously received the ceramic bowl her youngest son handed her.
The chicken in the bowl was cooked until the meat fell off the bones, and the fragrant soup was topped with a layer of bright yellow oil and garnished with a few tender green scallions, sparking one's appetite at a glance.
In these times, when ordinary farmers wore a look of hunger and couldn't even eat their fill, this bowl of chicken soup was already an extraordinary feast.
Next to her, a daughter-in-law dressed in a floral printed skirt handed her a piece of unleavened bread, saying eagerly:
"Mother, big brother's family slaughtered a pig and said they will bring you some pork tomorrow. You love 'pig head meat', don't you? This time you can eat your fill.
Also, second brother caught some fresh fish from Luoshui, specially saving the fish heads for you.
Third sister-in-law dug up this season's wild vegetables and has already steamed some wild vegetable dumplings for you, all your favorites."
However.
This elderly woman, who had struggled to raise her four sons and had hardly enjoyed any blessings even in her old age, looked blankly at the filial piety being shown by her son and daughter-in-law.
A wave of sorrow surged involuntarily to her heart, and tears "plopped" into the bowl.
Seeing their mother in this state, the couple's faces suddenly took on a rather awkward expression.
A man dressed as a woodcutter hastily said:
"Mother, don't cry. We agreed on everything before coming, what happened to you?
'Elder Care Pavilion' in the ten surrounding villages handle it this way. Aren't we brothers taking good care of you by providing delicious food and drink? You..."
He paused, unable to continue upon seeing his aging mother's cloudy and sorrowful eyes, and he fell silent.
In the drizzly rain, an old woman dressed in a shroud sat within a tomb made of bricks and stones, while a middle-aged couple in raincoats stood outside the tomb, looking at each other wordlessly.
In the cemetery, only the relentless sound of the wind and rain remained.
Clearly, the "Elder Care Pavilion" mentioned by the woodcutter, though it sounded nice, was actually just a tomb chamber that hadn't yet had its door sealed.
It is unknown from when.
It became a common belief among the folk living near Beimang Mountain that if an elderly person lived past the age of seventy, each day they lived would drain the fortune and lifespan of their descendants.
Thus, as soon as an elder celebrated their seventieth birthday, after eating longevity noodles, they would change into shroud clothes and lie in a coffin.
They would then be carried by their younger family members into the "Elder Care Pavilion" built in advance at the outskirts of Beimang Mountain to spend their last hundred days alone in a live-death tomb.
In those hundred days, their children would deliver meals daily, serving the best foods from home catered to the elder's taste, supposedly allowing the parents to enjoy a taste of mortal world's delicacies in their last days.
However, with each meal, the family members would add a brick to the entrance of the tomb.
After a hundred days, just enough bricks would have been laid to seal the tomb entrance completely, effectively starving the elderly person to death inside.
Naturally, it was nearly impossible to survive a hundred days.
After all, this was Beimang Mountain, teeming with mountain spirits and wild ghosts, and spending a night alone in the cemetery was akin to leaving a pork bun at the door of a dog house.
Knowing her tragic fate, how could the old woman have any appetite, even with delicacies presented before her?
But she was more aware that if she secretly escaped the tomb, her family and clansmen would regard her as an ominous "tomb tiger" and would burn her alive or immediately seal the tomb entrance.
Not even these last days of peace would be attainable.
From the perspective of the descendants, sending their elderly parents into the tomb to preserve their own fortune and lifespan seemed justified.
But who had ever considered the feelings of these "tomb tigers"?
It may be tradition, but the old woman truly found it hard to accept!
Who naturally prefers to eat chicken heads without meat, fish heads, the filthy and stinking "pig head meat" filled with dirty blood and parasites, or dumplings made from wild plants?
Wasn't it all to save the better meat and meals for her sons?
She had scrimped and struggled alone to bring up her four sons and find them wives.
By a stroke of fortune, she was the only one in her family to reach the age of seventy, an age when she should have been enjoying happiness, yet she was carried into this lonely tomb to await death.
'I don't regret raising them, but I haven't done anything wrong!'
The old woman, holding the ceramic bowl with tearful eyes, pleadingly said to her son and daughter-in-law:
"Xiao Si, wife of Xiao Si, Mom doesn't need good food anymore! From now on, Mom will eat just one meal a day and will still help you chop wood, tend the fields, and work like an ox or horse, is that alright?"
Seeing their mother unwilling to peacefully accept her death, the couple's faces gradually changed, their tone turning cold and threatening:
"Mom, isn't it a parent's duty to work like an ox or horse for their children?
If you really run away, our sons can't afford to lose face. Then, the four of us will have to take matters into our own hands, and act as if we never had a mother!"
Without hesitation, they added the first brick to the tomb, turned around without taking the bowl, and walked away.
Leaving only the white-haired old woman, sitting alone in the tomb chamber, overwhelmed by a profound sense of hopelessness.
Suddenly.
"What's that sound?"
Everyone fell silent, listening intently.
A series of subtle footsteps, as if tiptoeing, suddenly pierced through the curtain of rain and reached their ears, causing even the old woman inside the tomb to lift her head and look out.
But before they could discern what it was.
Whoosh—!
The dense fog, along with the mountain mist from between the trees, suddenly swept over, engulfing the entire cemetery.
Two short screams rang out and then abruptly stopped.
Immediately followed by the terrifying sounds of flesh tearing and bones shattering.
After a long time.
When the fog in the mountains had completely dispersed, the son and daughter-in-law outside the tomb had vanished without a trace, leaving only fresh blood trickling down, mingling with the rainwater to form a small stream.
"My son——!"
Over the graveyard, the heart-wrenching cries of the old woman echoed for a long time, the pain of losing a child seemingly a hundred times greater than the sorrow of abandonment.
...
The nights in the mountains always fell earlier than the outside world, especially after two consecutive days of drizzle.
Although the sun had not yet set, the lamps were already lit in the Luoyang King's royal mausoleum located halfway up Bird Beak Slope.
As one of the most esteemed among the many tomb owners in the Beimang Mountain of this dynasty, the tomb of the first generation Luoyang King, "Yili King Zhou Yi", certainly matched his status.
The entire Royal Mausoleum City Wall spanned nearly eighty acres, divided into three expansive courtyards.
Apart from the third courtyard, which stood a thirty-feet-high "Treasure City" (actually a burial mound), all other buildings were constructed of carved bluestone, commanding and majestic.
At this moment, in a front courtyard storeroom exuding yellow light.
Smack... smack...
Wang Yuan sat at the table, devouring a flavorful mutton soup dumpling in two bites, then picked up a plump and tender hock, gnawing so that his mouth dripped with oil.
The two people at the same table hadn't touched their chopsticks yet, and half of the two food containers on the floor were already empty.
Glancing at the only wine jar on the table that he hadn't touched, he generously praised,
"Wang Xiaoliu, you are a very filial lad, I am quite pleased with you, my dear nephew."
Even worse, this guy was smacking his lips as he ate.
Time had already advanced to the evening of the next day.
To avoid complications, before noon, Wang Cheng, like someone chased by death, along with a group of clan brothers brought to bolster courage, had carried Wang Yuan on a stretcher into this mausoleum belonging to the Luoyang King lineage.
But according to the rules of the Tomb Guardians and the bloody lessons over the years, aside from the duty personnel wearing Talisman Seal waist badges, no one else was allowed to stay overnight in the royal mausoleum.
The others had just left the mountain, leaving only Wang Cheng and another person responsible for continuing to guard Wang Yuan.
To keep the Fool from causing trouble, they opted for the simplest method of detention, by directly setting up a table of food and carrying it up the mountain.
Letting this fool, who had the mental capacity of a child, slowly gnaw at it.
Like a lamb awaiting slaughter, knowing only to lower his head to eat grass, naturally forgetting to look up at the road, unwittingly delivering itself to death.
Easier than tying them up like slaughtering a pig.
Wang Yuan seemed to be indeed as anticipated, already distracted by the feast set before him, completely unaware of any abnormality in the atmosphere.
Thus.
Although somewhat disgusted, the two assigned to this unfortunate task said nothing further.
Wang Cheng, afraid that Wang Yuan would become frightened and cause a scene, also eased him with a smiling face,
"It's great if Uncle is satisfied, I'll treat you to a feast back in the village tomorrow."
Though his face was respectful, he sneered in his heart—after all, even a condemned prisoner gets a last meal before execution, and he was particularly patient with those about to die.
Eat, eat, eat plenty for the journey.
Tomorrow, back home, it's your turn to feast!
Looking up at the sky, he then covertly glanced at the gate and said to Wang Yuan,
"You eat first, I need to use the restroom."
He subtly signaled his ruddy-faced companion, and the latter stood up with him and walked towards the rear courtyard of the city wall.
It was clear that aside from some apprehension about the "Weird" things Wang Yuan had experienced, they didn't really take him seriously.
He was just a fool after all!
At this time.
An actor of consummate skill, adept at playing roles and discerning moods, Wang Yuan immediately noticed Wang Cheng's subtle movements and had a thought.
'Looking towards the door from time to time after dark, they are waiting for someone!'
The Corpse Account Scripture he had seen in the shrine instantly came back to mind.
The participant outside Daling Village could only be that sinister Magician.
Under the record in the Small Book of Life and Death within Wang Yuan, rolling black clouds began to gather again.
Everything indicated that his "Fate" was about to meet a major turning point!
The most terrifying thing in the world is the unknown, and before the young man, gruesome images of twitching, skinning, meat cutting, bone digging, and rib snapping flashed continuously.
His brain worked frantically.
'At night, the royal mausoleum is cut off from the outside world; no one dares to climb the mountain until dawn.
By this time, the main force of the Tomb Guardians who had left earlier should have reached the bottom of the mountain, but the people Wang Cheng were waiting for have yet to arrive, precisely when their forces are at their weakest.
I can't wait any longer; if I want a shot at salvation, now is a rare opportunity.
Before that, I'll start with these two lackeys, pry their mouths open, only by knowing both oneself and the enemy can I move from overt to covert, from defense to attack!'
Wang Yuan hadn't forgotten that he couldn't permanently escape from Daling Village; as long as he didn't understand what the Clan Leader and others were plotting, no matter how far he fled, it would be futile.
Hurriedly opening the wine jar on the table that he had never touched, he took a porcelain bottle from his clothing and poured all the white powder it contained into the wine.