A deserted tunnel... Zhang Yuanqing felt慌张, scanning the surroundings wildly, suddenly transported into an unfamiliar environment—something that would leave anyone disoriented. "A tunnel? Is this the Sheli Tunnel from the local ghost stories?" As a native of Songhai City, he certainly knew the Sheli Tunnel among the city's ten famous ghost tales, with his grandmother often using these tales to scare him when he was a child and couldn't fall asleep at night. Yet, even setting aside the fact that ghost stories are often just fanciful tales, Zhang Yuanqing himself had recently returned home to pay respects to his father and had passed by the Sheli Tunnel just days before. The real Sheli Tunnel couldn't possibly look this worn out. "Ah, right—this is the Lingjing, not the actual Sheli Tunnel." The cramped space made him feel uneasy, so he walked cautiously forward, the only sound being the quiet rhythm of his footsteps. As he moved, he pondered his current situation, reflecting on the information conveyed by the voice in his mind. There's no doubt he has encountered a supernatural phenomenon, been transported into a folk tale, and is now tasked with completing a mysterious mission bestowed by unseen powers. "That voice assigned me two tasks: survive for three hours, and explore the spirit realm. The difficulty level is S-class, a single-death scenario—this kind of death-type is making me quite anxious." Surviving for three hours implies significant danger. Exploring the spirit realm—this likely means exploring this tunnel—so the tunnel itself must be hazardous, right? He quietly tightened his nerves, while a question flashed through his mind: What rewards will I receive upon completing the mission? After all, if it's a task, there must be some reward. "Yes, according to the attribute panel just now, my profession is the Night Wandering Deity, but at level 0 instead of level 1—so becoming a Night Wandering Deity should be one of the rewards. What exactly is a Night Wandering Deity?" "Bro Chen is absolutely right—the black card truly transforms one's life. But I overlooked the latter part of his statement: this thing is difficult to manage, meaning the level of danger?" Zhang Yuanqing quietly analyzed the available information. At that moment, the old xenon lamp beside him seemed to have an unstable circuit, flickering a few times. As the light and shadow interwove, Zhang faintly saw a figure wearing a miner's cap standing beneath the lamp. Huh! He jumped up startled, his train of thought instantly interrupted, and like a small deer startled, he rushed forward a few steps. Turning back, he found the xenon lamp remained steadily lit, no longer flickering. The dark figure he had just seen seemed to have been merely a illusion. After this sudden scare, Zhang Yuanqing felt he could no longer stay in this eerie place and quickly headed toward the tunnel entrance. Dashing steadily through the quiet tunnel, he didn't pause at all, walking briskly for five or six minutes. Then, the curved dome's old xenon lamp flickered again—but this time, no figure in a miner's cap appeared. "Didn't follow me?" He felt a slight relief, yet dared not pause, keeping his head down and walking swiftly. Suddenly, his gaze fixed on the ground, and he caught a detail that sent his heart racing to a standstill. The orange xenon lights stretched his shadow long and thin. Along the edge of his shadow, there were more than a dozen others—following him! How could they have been there all along? A cold rush surged from his feet to his head, sending shivers down his spine. Zhang Yuanqing’s face turned pale as paper, and he began to sprint wildly. Finally, the tunnel mouth came into view, bathed in the cool, frost-like moonlight outside. Breathing hard, Zhang Yuanqing burst out of the tunnel, leaning on his knees and bending over to catch his breath. Once he had steadied his breathing, he took in his surroundings—the full moon hung like a round dish in the night sky, its brilliance making the stars seem dim. The dense forest was drenched in moonlight, casting broad, deep shadows. He found himself deep in a remote mountain wilderness. The xenon lights in the tunnel flickered a few times before going out completely. The vast tunnel mouth now lay dark and still, as if the mouth of a "Get out of here…" Zhang Yuanqing felt a jolt of surprise, stepping along the rugged mountain path. After walking a few dozen steps, he turned back and saw a line of figures standing at the tunnel entrance—men wearing worn miner's caps, dressed in tattered clothes, heads bowed low. They stood in the shadow where the moonlight did not reach, silent, as if bidding him farewell. Zhang Yuanqing stepped back in alarm, then hurried up the mountain. The trees on both sides of the path were dense, scattering delicate patches of moonlight that allowed him to see the path clearly. Yet the stillness of the mountain was overwhelming—no birdsong, no insect hum—making his footsteps sound unusually loud. "It's too quiet. For this season, the forest should never be completely silent." He glanced around, the full moon shining like a plate, the tree shadows swaying gently, yet he sensed something in the darkness watching him. He didn't know how long he had been walking, until his body began to sweat lightly, when finally he emerged from the dense woods and the view opened up before him. The moonlight flowed like water, and the surroundings were utterly still. At the end of the rugged mountain path stood an abandoned ancient temple, quietly standing in the darkness. The temple had been forsaken for many years—its main gate, once painted, now had patches of darkened paint and rusted holes; the lanterns at the eaves had fallen to the ground, leaving only their bamboo frames. The plaque remained, draped in cobwebs and tilted slightly beneath the eaves, though the light was too dim to make out what was inscribed upon it. The stone steps before the temple were cracked, with wild grass growing through the fissures. In this remote mountain wilderness, far from any village or town, how could there be a temple? Wait—temple?! Zhang Yuanqing suddenly realized, as if the voice from the spiritual realm's introduction echoed in his ears: "Do not enter the temple, do not enter the temple…" "According to that odd voice's instruction, I should not enter the temple. But no—already I've emerged from the tunnel. That means, truly, what I now need to explore is this weathered, ancient temple." After hesitating for a long time at the temple gate, Zhang Yuanqing took careful, steady steps toward the ancient temple standing in the darkness, stepping over the crumbling threshold. Before him lay a spacious courtyard, overgrown with wild grass reaching to his waist. A half-human-height incense burner, half-rotted and leaning precariously, lay scattered among the grass, having endured countless winds and rains. Beneath his feet was a path paved with smooth stones, wild grass growing through the cracks between the stones. His gaze followed the undulating grasses to the end of the stone path, where an old main hall stood, its foundation high and its steps totaling six levels. A soft, yellowish light filtered through the lattice doors of the hall. "There's light?" The surroundings were utterly silent and desolate, the bright moonlight casting a serene glow. Yet in this setting, the faint glow did not bring Zhang Yuanqing any warmth—it only deepened his sense of fear. Sshhh... Stepping steadily through clumps of dry, yellow grass, he moved with alertness toward the main hall. In the spacious, quiet setting, his footsteps were especially distinct. As he rushed forward, Zhang Yuanqing soon broke through the tangled grass and approached the main hall. With two steps, he leapt up the six stone steps, finally bursting through the two lattice doors with a loud clang. The footsteps behind him suddenly ceased. In front of the base stood a table covered with dust, upon which candle stands were placed. A single wax candle, twenty centimeters long and as thick as a baby’s arm, burned quietly and steadily. The candlelight dispelled the darkness, and seemed to ease Zhang Yuanqing’s fears as well; he now felt much more composed. On the left wall hung two wooden boards, faded and cracked, inscribed with clear, regular script. Zhang Yuanqing walked over to the wall and, gazing at the script through the evening candlelight, recognized the style as classical Chinese prose. His command of the language was solid, and through a blend of guessing and reading, he gained a clear understanding of his surroundings. The mountain was known as San Dao Mountain, and the mountain deity enshrined in the temple was called the San Dao Mountain Lady. This deity, originally from Songfu during the early Ming dynasty, had practiced at San Dao Mountain in Songfu, mastering the art of incantations and the craft of alchemical medicine. She could summon rain, drive away spirits, and ensure favorable weather and harvests, thus being revered by the people as a divine figure. After her ascension, the local government built this temple on San Dao Mountain and named it the "San Dao Mountain Lady Temple," managed by her disciples who presided over the temple's rituals and served as temple stewards. "The temple from the Ming dynasty—this has been over five or six hundred years now," Zhang Yuanqing murmured. At that moment, he glanced down at the offering table and was suddenly struck by a sense of alarm. A dark silhouette lay in the shadow beneath the table. He hadn't noticed it immediately due to his overwhelming anxiety and the dim candlelight. With steady resolve, Zhang Yuanqing approached and, upon closer inspection, found it was a skeleton. Though startled, he felt a sense of relief—compared to the eerie mountain deity temple, the skeleton seemed less daunting. Stepping a few paces closer, he illuminated the skeleton with the weak candlelight and saw the clothes clinging to it: a dusty work uniform. A worker? "This must have been the construction team from back then—so I truly have entered the world of the legends." "Zhang Yuanqing had just made his initial guess when another more startling possibility struck him—perhaps the construction crew, just like himself, had accidentally stumbled upon this very site. It was then that the urban legend was born. If it were the first scenario, the spiritual realm would have been constructed based on the tales of the strange occurrences. But if it were the second, then the ancient temple had always existed, and both the construction crew and Zhang Yuanqing himself were victims. Based on the historical background of the mountain temple, Zhang Yuanqing leaned more strongly toward the latter. "An entire construction crew perished inside the temple, with only one survivor—this place truly does claim lives... Now I too have entered the temple, and I am constantly facing the unknown dangers." He drew a sharp breath, his emotions tightening once again, instinctively scanning his surroundings. Then, he suddenly realized a deeply unsettling detail. This ancient temple dates back to the Ming Dynasty, with a long and rich history. How could the candles still be burning? Who is responsible for replacing the candles in the main hall?" The more he thought about it, the more eerie it became, as if even the kindly-looking sculpture under the candlelight exuded a strange, haunting atmosphere. Though dusted with time, the three clay figures remained lifelike, every detail exquisitely carved and vividly realistic, especially their eyes. Standing on their pedestals, they gazed down upon Zhang Yuanqing with an air of dignified watchfulness under the golden glow of the setting candlelight.