Chapter Thirty-One: The Hall of Sacrifice

The old woman with the cat-like face trembled as she held the jade token before her clouded eyes, carefully scrutinizing it. Her wrinkled hands slowly rubbed the surface, and the jade shimmered, flashing as if in response to her touch.

"Where did you get this jade token?" she asked, gripping it tightly as she looked at Jiang Pingchuan. Her fierce feline visage was transforming, gradually becoming the face of an ordinary person.

"In a cemetery. An elderly man gave it to me. I didn't expect you to be connected to it as well," Jiang Pingchuan replied, channeling his vital energy throughout his body once more. The stains on his white robe dissolved into dust, scattered by the rain, and became muddy again.

"Connected... It's more than that," the old woman sighed, returning the jade token to him.

"You should go, young man. You do not belong here," she said softly, turning and fading into the darkness. Her words left Jiang Pingchuan puzzled.

It was only when she had vanished completely that he understood: he truly did not belong here. This was no longer his familiar Yuanwu Continent, but an unfamiliar new world.

He gazed into the endless, hazy night before him as the rain continued to fall, splashing rings upon the ground. He followed the path back toward the Zhou family.

He walked for a long time, unable to see a single light, dragging his weary body step by step.

His mind replayed everything from his time at Maoshan Dao. He regretted entering the Scripture Pavilion; had he not done so, he would have had at least a dozen more years to spend with his kin at Maoshan. Now, he could no longer find Maoshan, nor any family.

He felt lost—no path, no faith.

By the time Jiang Pingchuan reached the market town of Sanjiang County, the stone-paved streets were dry, and a huge sun hung overhead.

All manner of people bustled about, yet none had any connection to him. Before he knew it, he was approaching the Zhou family's noodle shop.

Xiao Wu stood at the doorway, scanning for him. When he spotted Jiang Pingchuan, the deep crease between his brows eased like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon, wings fluttering open.

"Brother Pingchuan, where did you go last night? Come in, quickly!"

Xiao Wu slapped Jiang Pingchuan's shoulder with a cheerful grin, pulling him inside. Jiang Pingchuan managed a faint smile as Xiao Wu ushered him into the noodle shop.

He sat at the oily black table. The shop was lively today, every seat filled. Xiao Wu brought out a steaming bowl of spring noodles and set it before him.

Jiang Pingchuan picked up his chopsticks, took a bite, and placed it in his mouth. This bowl differed from yesterday's, yet both were delicious; the difference was a subtle, fragrant freshness he now tasted.

"Everyone's here! I have something to say today," called Manager Zhou, stepping from the back room and glancing around at the crowded tables, his voice boisterous.

The patrons all looked up with smiles at Jiang Pingchuan beside Manager Zhou. Jiang Pingchuan swallowed his noodles, curiously watching the manager.

"My fellow townsfolk, you all know my daughter Ning'er has suffered recently, tormented by some evil entity. But now, she is freed from those spirits, all thanks to Brother Pingchuan's profound skills," Manager Zhou announced, giving Jiang Pingchuan's shoulder a hearty pat. The patrons were momentarily stunned, then erupted in applause. Jiang Pingchuan quickly stood and bowed to them.

He hadn't expected Manager Zhou to reveal the matter; he'd thought the locals would avoid such supernatural talk, like Xiao Wu had.

But it seemed they didn't believe in ghosts or gods, only seeking help from Taoist priests or exorcists when forced by problems they couldn't resolve.

"Everyone, after Brother Pingchuan's ritual last night, my daughter is completely restored. Today, all spring noodles are free—enjoy as much as you like!" Manager Zhou laughed, his thick black mustache bouncing along with his smile.

"There is one more matter. Though we have not believed in gods or ghosts, my daughter's ordeal convinced me we must reopen the ancestral shrine. We need divine protection. So many years have passed; the old gods no longer watch over us," Manager Zhou spoke gravely, and Jiang Pingchuan noticed the patrons' expressions had also turned solemn.

So they did believe in ghosts and gods here, though something had caused them to abandon their faith.

"Manager Zhou, reopening the ancestral shrine requires the county magistrate's approval..." a burly man in coarse linen said gloomily, echoed by others.

"That's right... It's been decades. Ever since the magistrate came to Qinghe County, the shrine was closed..."

"And from the day he closed the shrine, Sanjiang County has been plagued with strange happenings..."

Jiang Pingchuan listened as the patrons discussed the magistrate and the shrine, realizing their shrine was much like the Maoshan Dao's altar. At Maoshan, they revered the Dao, but here, he could tell from their words they worshipped a god.

"You all know, the ancestral shrine was left by our forebears to protect us. But the incense has ceased for decades, and our ancestors no longer shield us. Strange things keep happening—thank goodness for Brother Pingchuan's arrival. After thinking it over last night, I believe we must rekindle the shrine's incense," Manager Zhou said solemnly, his status in Sanjiang County lending weight to his words.

Indeed, the county had seen endless oddities over the years. At first, Manager Zhou hadn't believed ghosts or gods were responsible.

But after overhearing the conversation in his daughter's room last night, he finally understood: their world was just as his father had said, "Three feet above your head, the gods observe; as man acts, Heaven watches."

"Manager Zhou, what should we do? Without the magistrate's approval, opening the shrine ourselves might not be proper..." The crowd murmured anxiously. They had grown up believing in the gods, but the new magistrate had sternly declared there was nothing of the sort.

The magistrate was upright and honest, but having a son late in life, he found it hard to discipline him. That son had become Sanjiang County's scourge.

"Don't worry, everyone. With Brother Pingchuan here in the town, I believe he can help us deal with all evil spirits. Then, the magistrate will be forced to acknowledge the existence of ghosts and gods," Manager Zhou declared again, drawing all eyes to Jiang Pingchuan, who frowned slightly.

He saw the longing and hesitation in their faces and sensed that this town was still troubled by spirits.

Last night, the mysterious disappearance of the ghost, the deathly black pearl, and the strange old woman with the cat face—all made him believe uninvited guests lingered here.