Candles, sculptures, remains, and the timeless herringbone door. Beyond, the courtyard is wild with grass, bronze incense burners toppled, stone pathways stretching under the clear moonlight. A stillness that carries both desolation and an eerie quietness. "It seems this place has always been in perpetual night." Zhang Yuanqing lifted his hand to his mouth, releasing the small blue pill he had been holding. The remedy had worked—really, I’m that smart… He beamed, placing the pill into his pocket, now a little more confident about his future. With these, he now had a chance of survival when facing the Red Slippers. Then, he walked straight to the altar table, paused to think, and reached out to grasp the candle holder. Suddenly, a message appeared before him: 【Name: Candle That Never Goes Out】 【Type: Fuel】 【Function: Warding off evil, purifying】 【Description: A relic left behind by the Three Mountain Lady, said to be made from the oil of the Long-Lasting Beast, effective in warding off evil spirits and purifying the surroundings.】 】 【Note: Sometimes, purifying fear might not be a good thing. Also, it cannot be moved.】 Indeed, only by touching an object with one's own hands can one gain information about it. Previously, he had been too afraid to touch the candle, so he didn't realize it was an object of significance until he consulted the records. "Perhaps purifying fear isn't always beneficial, as per Guan Ya's classification—the candle belongs to the 'cost' category, and the cost of using it is losing one's fear. Yet now, I'm deeply afraid, with no intention of making a dramatic effort. I'll just stay safe in the main hall for now." He sat in meditation at the offering table, contemplating his next course of action. "His next objective is to explore the eastern courtyard, uncovering any hidden dangers or patterns there, and then seeking out methods to counteract or overcome them. The exploration must last no more than fifteen minutes—otherwise, the vengeful spirit will settle on his shoulders, and he will surely perish." "The blue pill is my last resort against the red slippers—it might not work at all, and once I face them directly, I'm either alive or dead. Let's start by exploring the eastern wing first, get a preliminary sense of the environment there, and then formulate a strategy. Even now, when the moment arrives, I still feel a bit afraid and hesitant—not eager to step outside. Last time I survived was by luck; this time, whether I make it remains uncertain. The eastern wing's situation is still unclear, and it's easy to perish just from the initial attempt. Yet, life rarely allows you to simply choose not to act. Though there's no strict deadline for the exploration of the ancient temple, in theory, I could remain in the main hall indefinitely. But without a deadline, the longer I stay, the more likely I am to never leave. Over time, my condition will deteriorate due to hunger, fatigue, and dehydration. By the time I finally venture out, it will be too late—my fate sealed. 'Either way, stepping out or staying put, it's a matter of cutting my own throat.' " Zhang Yuanqing bit his teeth and took a steady step outward. Wait— I should think this over again. The outside is quite dangerous... With one foot already on the threshold, he suddenly hesitated, turning back to gaze once more at the inner hall, lingering on its radiant glow. The candlelight was warm, dispelling gloom, purifying impurities, and instilling an unparalleled courage and confidence within. It wouldn’t be so bad after all. Zhang Yuanqing stepped out with full confidence. Then, carefully stepping through the arched gate into the eastern courtyard. The eastern courtyard was much larger than the quadrangle. Before him lay a neglected garden, featuring a rock formation, a pavilion, a small pond, and a large banyan tree—its trunk thick and robust, branches knotted and intertwined, its fresh green leaves reflecting the bright moonlight. Beneath the tree stood an ancient well. As his gaze swept over the rock formation and pavilion, the gabled roofs of the deeper part of the garden came into view. Zhang Yuanqing did not head straight for the buildings at the heart of the garden, but instead cautiously walked around the large banyan tree. According to the records, the tree was considered potentially dangerous, yet after completing a full circuit, no incident occurred. "Checking out the banyan tree should also contribute to our exploration progress," he thought, glancing at the dark, shadowy well, and hesitating for a while, he still lacked the courage to plunge in and take a closer look. He had a strong psychological aversion to the wells often featured in ghostly tales. After passing the well, he walked quietly through the overgrown grass, steadily making his way toward the deeper buildings of the garden. "Crack!" Suddenly, a crisp sound erupted beneath his feet, startling him into a jump. On closer inspection, he saw a body half-buried in wild grass, wrapped in an oxidized safety suit. Zhang Yuanqing knelt to examine it—the skeleton was remarkably well-preserved. The body had fallen on its side, yet its head was facing backward, indicating that before death, something had forcibly twisted its head exactly 180 degrees. What could have done that? Zhang Yuanqing became subtly alert, rose to his feet, and was about to continue forward. At that moment, a breeze swept through the garden, causing the wild grass to ripple and rustle. The large banyan tree behind him seemed to come to life, its branches twisting and swaying gently. "Zhang Yuanqing, Zhang Yuanqing..." A thin, high-pitched voice came from behind, carried on the wind as if whispering directly into his ears, sending a wave of chilling unease through him. By instinct, Zhang Yuanqing turned to face it, yet in his mind, a sudden memory flashed: Don't look back! "Zhang Yuanqing, Zhang Yuanqing..." Seeing no response, the voice seemed increasingly urgent, eager to prompt him to turn around. Zhang Yuanqing of course did not turn—he stood still, motionless, quietly pulling open the zipper of his combat jacket, withdrawing the bronze mirror, and slowly raising it until it rose above his shoulders. The bronze mirror reflected the scene behind him, somewhat blurred. From the ancient well, a white-clad woman emerged, her hair disheveled, her face featureless—her pale flesh now gazing directly at Zhang Yuanqing. Good heavens—Zhang Yuanqing paled, and without a word, he started running forward. "Zhang Yuanqing, Zhang Yuanqing..." The voice repeated, calling urgently, yet helplessly watched as he grew farther and farther away. Soon, Zhang Yuanqing passed the artificial hill and reached the deeper part of the garden, where a large building stood—its roof extending in a single straight line, a stone foundation, and walls built of yellow earth. The house here is more dilapidated than the quadrangle courtyard, its roof tiles scattered and riddled with numerous holes. "The night wanderer mentioned in the records has been here too. He only said not to look back, but didn't say one couldn't return; perhaps the call of the ghost woman from the well is specifically directed at those who do turn back. In that case, when I return later, I should be safe from danger..." He took a deep breath, calming the surging fear and suspense, and focused his attention on the present moment. "Let's explore this building first." The large house has three doors, symbolizing three rooms. He approached carefully the room on the far left, pushing open the weathered wooden door with force. "Creak—!" As the door opened, Zhang Yuanqing stepped back promptly, adopting a defensive stance. For a while, nothing untoward happened. With greater courage, he entered the room. Moonlight filtered through the damaged roof, and he strained to widen his pupils, trying to absorb as much light as possible. This is the kitchen and dining hall, with two earthen stoves built from stacked blue bricks. The pots, pans, bowls, water jars, cabinets, and other furnishings have long since rotted and accumulated dust. No danger—finally, containers have been found... Zhang Yuanqing grasped a dusty gourd ladle, and began to think. "Heard that child's urine can dispel evil," he recalled. He considered whether to fetch a ladleful of it, but after careful thought, reluctantly abandoned the idea. Though he had never been particularly close to any girls, Zhang Yuanqing felt he couldn't truly be considered a virgin himself. "I've been too indulgent with you all, giving you one opportunity after another to impress me." He looked down at his hands, feeling deeply regretful. After thorough exploration, confirming that this large hall functions as both kitchen and dining hall, with no special features or hazards, Zhang Yuanqing took a rusted vegetable knife and a stick, stepped out of the building, and turned his gaze toward the final, rectangular house. Unlike the kitchen that also serves as a dining hall, this building has four doors, dividing it into four separate rooms. Zhang Yuanqing couldn't help but clench the wooden staff and vegetable knife tightly in his hands—they might not be of much use, but they offered a sense of comfort. He carefully inspected the first and second rooms, which were storage spaces filled with old farming tools, furniture, and donation boxes. Nothing particularly valuable... Zhang Yuanqing then moved on to the third room. This was a weapons storehouse, with swords, spears, bows, daggers, and short blades hung on the walls. Many of the weapons had fallen to the floor due to frayed hangers. Along the windowside stood two rows of weapon racks, one of which had collapsed, scattering spears and lances across the ground. Beside the overturned racks lay two bodies. Seeing these weapons, Zhang Yuanqing was not surprised—monks and nuns from the temple were trained under the Lady of San Dao Mountain and could create talismans to stabilize the dead, clearly possessing the means to protect themselves. It was no surprise that they could also dance and wield staffs and lances. As usual, he examined the bodies, seeking information from the senior monks and nuns. As soon as he approached the bodies, he couldn't help exclaiming, "Huh!" The two lying on the ground were not skeletons, but mummified bodies. Their skin was gray and wrinkled, tightly adhered to the bones, with sunken abdomens. "How can there be mummies here?" Zhang Yuanqing furrowed his brows. As a student at Songhai University, he had a solid knowledge base. Mummification occurred in two ways: artificial preservation or naturally, typically in arid regions like deserts. The first cause could be ruled out; the second usually required such dry environments. The temple's conditions clearly didn't match. He carefully examined the two mummies. There were no fatal wounds on their bodies, and the bones hadn't been crushed by the red slippers. However, at the neck area, there were two distinct holes—clearly made by sharp, pointed teeth of some beast. "What kind of creature sucked these people dry? Gasp…," Zhang Yuanqing drew a sharp breath, his body tensing up. At that moment, he heard a soft "thud" coming from the adjacent room, like a knock on a wooden door. His scalp instantly tingled, and Zhang Yuanqing, alert as a swift deer, raised his neck to listen intently.