Damn… Zhang Yuanqing suddenly didn't want to stay in the main hall any longer.
He felt a deep sense of despair, as if he were trapped in a hopeless situation, unable to call for help, with no one to rely on but himself.
After much hesitation, he gritted his teeth and pulled out the skeleton wrapped in a work uniform.
Rip—
As he dragged it out, the work uniform tore easily—it had long since rotted after so many years.
He dragged the corpse to the candlelight and, suppressing his discomfort, began to examine it.
Even though the person was dead, the body could still tell a story. Understanding the cause of death might help him avoid danger.
"The sternum and a few ribs are broken, the right shoulder has fine cracks, but it's not too serious..."
The deceased had suffered serious injuries before death, but due to the long passage of time, the exact cause of death was unclear.
Then, Zhang Yuanqing searched the pockets of the deceased worker and found a few yellowed, brittle sheets of paper—clearly very old.
The paper was filled with tiny characters written in standard script.
Zhang Yuanqing felt a surge of excitement. These papers had clearly been found by the worker inside the temple, which could help him understand more about this ancient place.
Under the candlelight, he focused on reading the contents of the paper.
"Last night, another junior brother went missing. This is already the third mysterious disappearance in the temple. The senior brothers say that ghosts haunt the Three Dao Mountain, or perhaps a powerful demon has come to prey on people. But our disciples are trained in cultivation, and our master is a renowned Daoist in the region. What kind of demon would dare to come here to hunt?"
"As for ghosts, my talismans for controlling corpses and summoning spirits should be enough to deal with them—there's no need to trouble Master. But I have a bad feeling about this. I need to discuss it with Senior Brother..."
"Today, another person disappeared. This is the fifth one. Master told us to keep it a secret from the worshippers, or it would affect the temple's incense offerings. He definitely knows something. Senior Brother and I have decided to patrol at night..."
"Three days have passed, and another three people have vanished, but Senior Brother and I haven't discovered anything. The nights are eerily quiet. My unease is growing..."
"Senior Brother was acting very strangely today. He seemed furious, as if he had discovered something. But when I asked, he wouldn't tell me. He wasn't in a good mood, so I decided to ask him again tomorrow."
"The one who disappeared today was... Senior Brother. I searched all over Three Dao Mountain but couldn't find him. I... I can't take this anymore. I have to confront Master and demand the truth. The other disciples support me because they are terrified too..."
At this point, the handwriting became hurried and messy, suggesting that the writer was mentally breaking down.
Zhang Yuanqing continued reading:
"After much pressing, Master finally agreed to tell me the truth. My gut feeling was right—he knew the reason behind the disappearances. But Master said that it was a secret tied to the rise and fall of thousands of years of history. He would come to my room after sunset to tell me everything."
"After dinner, I waited in my room for nightfall. Ever since the disappearances began, I had never been so eager for darkness to arrive..."
That was the end of the writing.
That's it? The sudden cutoff left Zhang Yuanqing extremely frustrated.
He organized the information: at some point in history, disciples at this Mountain God Temple began disappearing one by one under mysterious circumstances.
The temple's master—known as the abbot—seemed to know the cause, and it was related to a massive secret spanning thousands of years.
"Could discovering the source of the temple's decline be the key to completing my second main quest?" Zhang Yuanqing speculated.
He returned the fragile paper to the corpse's decayed work uniform, pushed the skeleton back under the table—out of sight, out of mind—and began planning his next move.
"The main hall doesn't have much more information. If I need to explore the temple, I have to step outside, which means facing the dangers lurking here..."
"In the urban legend of Sheling Tunnel, at least one worker survived. If I follow his path, I might figure out how to make it out alive."
After thinking it through, Zhang Yuanqing walked to the main hall's entrance and pulled open the still-intact wooden lattice doors.
Creak—
The wooden hinges let out a hair-raising groan.
Gripping the doorframe, he cautiously peeked outside. It was eerily silent. Apart from a desolate and ominous atmosphere, he didn't spot any immediate threats.
After observing for a while, he stepped past the threshold and followed the cobblestone path on the left side of the main hall, heading toward the temple'sback courtyard.
The moonlight was cold and clear, casting long shadows over the swaying weeds. After walking for a minute or two, Zhang Yuanqing reached a cluster of buildings.
It was a large quadrangle courtyard with interconnected houses—black-tiled roofs, white walls, and a row of eaves supported by wooden beams. Beneath the eaves were lattice windows and doors.
The doors, covered in dust, stood ajar or had collapsed entirely. The paper used to seal the windows was now tattered and riddled with holes.
Bathed in moonlight, Zhang Yuanqing surveyed the layout of the back courtyard.
Apart from the quadrangle courtyard, there was an arched doorway on the east side, resembling the kind found in large mansions that connected different sections.
Beyond that archway stood a massive ancient tree, its gnarled branches and thick foliage casting dense shadows.
"Hmm..."
In the overgrown courtyard, he noticed several skeletons dressed in decayed work uniforms.
Carefully approaching, he examined them closely. Each skeleton was severely damaged—bones snapped apart beneath the rotting uniforms. However, unlike the corpse in the main hall, none of these had fractures on their shoulder bones.
"These people suffered brutal deaths..."
A sudden gust of wind rustled the tree branches, carrying with it a faint, mournful whisper:
"Help me... help me..."
In the eerie stillness of the abandoned temple, Zhang Yuanqing felt a cold sweat break out on his back.
He stood frozen for a long moment. When the wind died down, the sorrowful whisper vanished with it.
"The courtyard next door seems dangerous... but whatever's in there hasn't come out..."
Exhaling silently, he waded through the overgrown weeds and stepped under the eaves, deciding to explore the quadrangle courtyard.
Inside, he found old furniture covered in dust, the air thick with the scent of decay.
Room by room, he searched, until he opened the easternmost door.
Creak—
Dust rained down as the long-sealed door swung open. Zhang Yuanqing brushed the debris from his shoulder, scanning the dim room.
Against the wall, beneath a shattered window, slumped another skeleton wearing a work uniform. A fallen miner's helmet lay nearby.
Stepping into the room, Zhang Yuanqing shivered—suddenly, the temperature seemed to drop.
"It's cold..."
Hecautiously approached the corpse and examined it. Unlike the others, this skeleton was intact—except for one thing.
When he checked the shoulder bones, his pupils shrank.
Deep, jagged cracks marred the skeleton's shoulder—just like the corpse in the main hall, but even worse.
"Why do only these two corpses have fractured shoulders? Is it just coincidence?" He muttered uneasily.
Then he noticed the corpse's pocket bulging with something.
Reaching in, he pulled out an ancient book, a dusty bronze mirror, and a yellowed talisman.
Then, as he absently glanced at the bronze mirror—
He froze.
In the mirror's moonlit reflection, there was someone clinging to his back.
A corpse-white face, lips dark purple, eyes hollow and unblinking.
Their head rested sideways on his shoulder, those lifeless white eyes staring directly at him.