Chapter 6: Sacrificial Offering
At dawn, Chen Shi woke early. In the kitchen, his grandfather was cooking with his back turned. His sleeves were soaked in blood, and whatever meat he was chopping on the cutting board remained a mystery.
Chen Shi glanced over cautiously, thinking, “As long as it’s not human meat, I can eat anything.”
Outside, a noisy commotion drifted in—the villagers of Huangpo Village had gathered beneath the ancient tree to offer incense and prayers.
Chen Shi stepped outside to witness the scene. The villagers carried candles and trays of fruit, chickens, and ducks, approaching the ancient tree at the village center.
This venerable tree had weathered countless years. Its gnarled roots jutted above ground like coiled dragons, and its twisted branches resembled serpents. Sparse foliage adorned the branches, which were tied with red strings. Each string held a wooden plaque inscribed with the villagers’ wishes.
This ancient tree, revered as the village’s “godmother,” had long been a spiritual guardian of the villagers. On the first day of each lunar month, the villagers would perform a “moon offering,” the first of a three-day ritual. The first day was dedicated to honoring the tree as their godmother, while the next two days were market days.
The tree was known for its mystical powers, particularly its ability to ward off malevolent entities during the night and protect the villagers. For this reason, all homes in Huangpo Village were constructed around the tree in concentric layers.
If one presented offerings to the tree, they could even make requests—whether for marriage, children, wealth, or safety—and these wishes would be fulfilled without fail.
High in the tree sat a quiet young woman, about sixteen years old, with elegant, serene features. She wore a pale green moonlit dress and a black blouse embroidered with red coins, and her hair was adorned with a lotus-shaped gold hairpin.
She never made a sound. The villagers couldn’t see her, but Chen Shi saw her every time he stepped out.
Rain or shine, the girl always sat in the tree.
Once, she had given Chen Shi a bright red fruit. However, when his grandfather discovered it, he had made Chen Shi throw it away, claiming it was poisonous.
“She’s not your godmother,” his grandfather had said. “She belongs to the others in the village. To her, you’re an outsider. Poisoning you would make the rest of the village her only children.”
“Little Ten, come eat!” his grandfather’s voice called from the courtyard.
Chen Shi returned to the house and sat at the table. The porridge in his bowl contained grains and meat, its surface glinting green and emitting a peculiar smell.
Three side dishes accompanied the porridge: one featured meat stir-fried with medicinal herbs, another contained finger-thick worms, some still writhing, and the third... Chen Shi wasn’t sure what it was.
Timidly, he asked, “Grandpa, is this food or medicine?”
His grandfather didn’t turn around. “Both. You’re sick; you need to eat everything.”
Choosing his words carefully, Chen Shi said, “Grandpa, I think I’m better now.”
“You’re not.”
His grandfather’s tone was indifferent. “You had another episode last night, didn’t you? You still need medicine.”
Chen Shi froze in shock. “Grandpa left the house last night. How does he know I had another attack?”
He stopped questioning and forced the food down, regardless of its taste.
His grandfather, though still facing away, now bore an additional eye on his shoulder. Fine nerve tendrils resembling tiny legs extended from the eye, watching him intently, ensuring he finished every bite.
When the meal was done, Chen Shi’s stomach burned as though a fire had ignited within, searing his heart. Every meal brought this fiery sensation, but today’s was particularly intense.
He silently activated the Three Radiances Qi Technique, channeling the energy coursing through his body. Only then did the burning sensation subside.
“The technique claims to refine the body into a divine vessel, even without a divine embryo. Could I skip cultivating qi and just focus on strengthening my body instead?”
Inspired, Chen Shi stripped away the parts of the technique related to qi cultivation, leaving only its methods for physical reinforcement. When he practiced, it felt seamless and greatly enhanced his physical resilience.
After the meal, Chen Shi helped his grandfather load a wooden cart with provisions and tools, tying everything securely with ropes.
The cart’s wooden wheels were inscribed with glyphs of speed, designed to enhance its movement.
As the villagers bustled around the ancient tree and offerings piled high, the tree’s divine aura seemed to hum, watching over Huangpo Village. Meanwhile, Chen Shi pondered how to strengthen himself further, unaware of the trials yet to come.
Grandfather wore a bamboo hat that obscured his face as he carefully traced the runes on the cart wheels with vermilion. Instead of using water, the vermilion was mixed with black dog blood, giving off a pungent odor.
Chen Shi glanced at Heiguo, the large black dog, which now seemed listless—likely bled by Grandfather for the task.
As Chen Shi helped trace the runes, he muttered spitefully, “The best black dog blood comes from the neck. That’s where the yang energy is strongest, and it sticks better without fading. We should just slice its neck open.”
Still holding a grudge against Heiguo for stoking the fire too enthusiastically during his last bath, Chen Shi's words carried a tinge of malice.
Heiguo shuddered and cast an aggrieved look at him.
With their preparations complete, the grandfather-grandson duo climbed onto the wooden cart. The cart’s wheels, inscribed with Glyphs of Speed, began to glow faintly. They turned autonomously, propelling the cart smoothly out of the village.
Heiguo trotted behind, his tail swaying as he followed.
Grandfather held a bronze compass in his hand. Its needle swayed gently, guiding the cart to turn and adjust directions as needed.
When they reached the outskirts of the village, Chen Shi jumped down, grabbed incense sticks and spirit money, and sprinted up a hill to an ancient tree at the village boundary.
Grandfather neither stopped the cart nor waited.
At the tree, Chen Shi lit incense, burned spirit money, and offered fruit while bowing several times. Then, he presented incense to the Scholar Ghost hanging in the tree and quickly ran back to catch up with the cart.
On the first day of every lunar month, the grandfather and grandson would embark on this journey. While the day marked the villagers' moon offering, it also coincided with a lively market where goods of all kinds were traded.
Seated on the moving cart, Chen Shi resumed practicing the Three Radiances Qi Technique. Starlight cascaded down, merging with his body.
Grandfather observed him for a moment and remarked, “You can handle more medicine now.”
The statement startled Chen Shi, nearly disrupting his flow of energy. He quickly refocused his mind and continued his cultivation.
Oddly enough, after eating Grandfather’s peculiar meals, Chen Shi found his progress in the Three Radiances Qi Technique mysteriously accelerating. His body grew stronger, brimming with vitality and power.
“Even without using spirit jerky, I could delve deeper into the True King’s Tomb than ever before!” Chen Shi thought.
But that wasn’t enough.
His ultimate goal was to obtain the complete Three Radiances Qi Technique.
The cart rolled along for over ten miles before arriving at Shanyang Village, built around an ancient thirteen-story tower. The weathered tower, standing seven or eight zhang (21–24 meters) tall, was adorned with carvings of unknown origin.
Chen Shi looked up and noticed a serene monk seated on the second level of the tower, receiving incense offerings. The monk slowly turned his head to watch the cart pass.
This monk was Shanyang Village’s godmother.
The term "godmother" wasn’t limited to ancient trees; anything possessing extraordinary power that could protect a region might be venerated as such. Shanyang Village’s true godmother was the ancient tower, and the monk was merely a manifestation of its power, shaped by the villagers’ worship.
“That monk isn’t a good person either,” Chen Shi thought.
He vividly recalled his first visit to the tower when he’d nearly been sacrificed to the monk, who had transformed into a monstrous Buddha in an instant. The memory of that ferocious visage still made him shudder.
The cart came to a stop, and Chen Shi helped Grandfather set up their stall, arranging various amulets and talismans for sale.
The grandfather-grandson duo relied on selling these charms to make a living. There were Thousand-Mile Sounding Talismans for long-distance communication, Peachwood Talismans to ward off evil, Glyphs of Speed for carts, Water-Walking Talismans for boats, and Rain-Calling Talismans for summoning rain.
Creating talismans required a practitioner to cultivate a divine embryo and possess divine power. Typically, such individuals would be highly regarded scholars or officials, unlikely to set up a humble roadside stall.
“Old Chen, back to selling charms again?” a passerby called out.
“Mm.”
“I heard you were dead! Someone from your village said you sleep in your coffin at night!”
“That’s nonsense. Don’t spread rumors,” Grandfather replied casually to the villager, chatting with familiarity. The charm stall was doing well, and soon the grandfather-grandson pair had sold quite a number of talismans.
At that moment, two young women approached, giggling and dressed in their best clothes—likely outfits they wouldn’t wear on an ordinary day. Their fair arms and legs, as slender as chopsticks, were exposed to the warm sunlight. Their faces were lightly dusted with makeup, radiant under the sun.
“Two Peach Blossom Charms, please,” said the bolder of the two. She handed over two small silver pieces with a cheeky laugh.
When her hand brushed against Chen Shi’s as he reached for the money, he felt a softness and smoothness that left him momentarily dazed.
Hurriedly, he retrieved the charms and handed them over. The two girls walked away laughing, but the bolder one glanced back at Chen Shi twice, each time with a smile that left his heart racing.
Chen Shi discreetly pocketed one of the charms, slipping it up his sleeve.
“Hand it over,” Grandfather said without even lifting his head.
“Hand over what?” Chen Shi feigned ignorance.
“The Peach Blossom Charm.”
Reluctantly, Chen Shi produced the charm, grumbling, “Grandfather, I’m old enough now. I should be allowed to use a Peach Blossom Charm!”
Grandfather shook his head. “You’re still too young. I checked during your last medicine bath—you need at least two more years.”
Chen Shi’s face turned bright red.
“And you’re still sick,” Grandfather added.
Dejected, Chen Shi obediently returned to practicing his Three Radiances Qi Technique, hoping to recover from his illness sooner. Yet, one question lingered in his mind:
“Grandfather, what exactly is my illness?”
Grandfather didn’t respond.
By noon, the talismans were sold out. The two packed up their stall, climbed back onto the cart, and left Shanyang Village.
The cart rolled steadily along the road. Chen Shi nibbled on some dried rations while Grandfather, instead of eating, pulled out a few sticks of incense, lit them, and held them close, inhaling their fragrance.
Chen Shi observed this in silence for a long time before finally asking, “Grandfather, when you die, will you become the godmother of our village? Then I could see you every day.”
Grandfather was silent for a moment, as if touched by the question, before shaking his head. “No. When I die, I’ll likely be pulled into the underworld by the power of the netherworld.”
Another long silence followed.
“Grandfather, can’t you just not die?” Chen Shi murmured, staring at the road ahead, which blurred before his eyes. “I don’t want you to die.”
After a while, Grandfather reached out with his rough, calloused hand and gently patted Chen Shi’s head.
“Silly child, no one can escape death,” Grandfather said with a soft laugh.
For the first time in many days, Chen Shi felt the warmth of familial affection.
The cart rattled forward, and ahead stood a massive dead tree. Its barren branches stretched skyward like the claws of a monstrous beast.
Encircling the tree were about a hundred houses arranged in a ring, but the village was abandoned.
This was a village whose godmother had died.
On the day the ancient tree perished, the village lost its protection. Malevolent forces invaded, killing many.
As the cart passed, Chen Shi noticed shadows moving among the houses. Around a hundred figures milled about, their faces adorned with cheerful smiles, dressed in festival attire. Children played and laughed.
They, too, were celebrating the Moon Festival.
But they had been dead for a long time.
“Why hasn’t the power of the netherworld dragged them into the underworld?” Chen Shi asked, puzzled.
Grandfather had no answer.
The cart rolled into the next village, Fangdian Village, nestled in a bend of the Yudai River, which curved like a knotted ribbon. Fangdian Village, surrounded by lush grasses and vibrant flowers, was picturesque.
The village’s godmother was a massive ancient elm tree. Its thick trunk was adorned with numerous red strings and prayer plaques.
Chen Shi looked up into the tree, searching for the deity formed by its extraordinary power, but saw nothing unusual.
As they approached, he realized the reason: beneath the tree was a small shrine. Inside, before an altar wreathed in curling incense smoke, sat a girl about his age.
She wore a pink dress and had long twin braids. While munching on offerings, she casually read the villagers’ prayer requests.
“So that’s where she is,” Chen Shi thought.
Grandfather and Chen Shi had just set up their stall when a commotion erupted nearby. The bustling market suddenly emptied as if drained by an unseen force.
Women grabbed their children and hurried home. Men picked up makeshift weapons—axes and knives—and tucked them into their belts. Those eating at food stalls abandoned their meals, leaving the shopkeepers on the verge of tears.
“The Six Doors are here!” someone shouted.
The “Six Doors” referred to the county magistrate’s office, named for its imposing six-panel main gate. The constables who worked there were mockingly called “Six Doors.”
Chen Shi craned his neck to look and saw dozens of constables marching in a line, smashing stalls and overturning shops as they went.
“The Great Ming Laws state: those who evade taxes will be flogged a hundred times! You’re all loyal subjects of Ming—don’t make our job difficult!”
The head constable seated himself arrogantly on a bench and opened a ledger. “Liu Zexi! Liu Zexi! You’ve paid your land tax, but what about your household and trade taxes? Step forward!”
A man from Fangdian Village timidly replied, “Sir, Liu Zexi has passed away.”
The head constable looked surprised. “Dead? When did he die?”
“After your last visit to collect taxes. The next day, he was found hanging from the godmother’s tree, stiff as a board.”
The head constable made a sound of acknowledgment and turned to look at the ancient tree at the village center. A cold smile spread across his face.
“So, you’re saying he made himself an offering to your godmother?” The constable sneered. “Liu Zexi, you sacrificed yourself to make a wish to your godmother. Tell me, then—what exactly did you wish for?”