The Grim Reaper's Banquet (3) Part 1

Because of the sudden accident, the entire funeral was thrown into chaos. People quickly accepted the cruel reality and promptly carried away the person who had been crushed to death. The funeral music started again. In the curtain of rain, the people dressed in white seemed to turn into indistinct ghosts, slowly walking toward the unseen downpour ahead.

Lin Banxia and Song Qingluo didn't dare to make a sound. Only after the crowd had completely left did Lin Banxia whisper, "How could he have died so suddenly?"

Song Qingluo frowned.

"Could there really be a curse?" Lin Banxia said hesitantly. "Otherwise, this is... just too much of a coincidence."

Song Qingluo said, "Let's ignore them for now and go check the cemetery first."

Fearing they would run into the funeral procession, the two didn't dare to take the main road, instead making their way through the dense weeds on the side. After walking for about ten minutes, they finally saw the cemetery they were looking for.

When Lin Banxia saw the full view of the cemetery, he couldn't help but sigh a little. The place before him was less a cemetery and more like a Mass Grave.

Perhaps because too many people had died, there wasn't enough time to bury them one by one, so most of the coffins were just hastily placed by the roadside. The funeral procession seemed to have already left via the main road in the distance. They placed the new coffin they were carrying on their shoulders in a corner of the cemetery. The funeral music gradually faded, but the dripping sound of the suona seemed to linger in their ears.

Seeing that everyone had left, Lin Banxia and Song Qingluo finally walked into the cemetery.

They were surrounded by densely packed coffins. Extinguished incense sticks and soiled paper money were stuck in the ground. In such an environment, an ordinary person might have panicked long ago, but luckily, Lin Banxia was thick-skinned enough not to feel much of anything. His gaze swept around, and he soon discovered something amiss. He whispered, "Song Qingluo, what's that?"

Song Qingluo had also noticed what Lin Banxia was talking about. They were several human-shaped objects wrapped in straw mats, carelessly tossed by the roadside. Although he was far away, he could still smell an unbearable stench of decay.

Song Qingluo walked over with Lin Banxia following behind. He saw Song Qingluo crouch down, lift a corner of the straw mat with his hand, and reveal a ghastly white face, swollen from being soaked in the rain.

Seeing this face, Song Qingluo's brow furrowed even deeper. He forcefully threw back the entire straw mat, completely exposing what was wrapped inside.

It was a corpse that had been split in two. The clothes he wore indicated he wasn't from this village. He had clearly been dead for several days, and after being soaked in the rain, he had taken on an extremely horrifying appearance. But even in death, his eyes were wide open, revealing a deep sense of despair and unwillingness.

Lin Banxia remembered something. He said, "Qingluo, this person... is he the companion of the man we saw at the village entrance? The one the Village Chief said was crushed by a tree?"

Song Qingluo said, "That's him." He stood up and looked at the other straw mats nearby. "I know him."

Lin Banxia was stunned. He hadn't expected this person to be an acquaintance of Song Qingluo's.

While Lin Banxia was thinking, Song Qingluo made another move. He walked over to the side and uncovered the straw mats one by one. Sure enough, several corpses were revealed before them. Their states of death varied, and they hadn't even been changed out of their everyday clothes. It was obvious they had been dealt with hastily.

Song Qingluo bent down and actually started searching the bodies for something. Lin Banxia asked, "What are you looking for? Need help?"

Song Qingluo said, "See if they have a black notebook in their clothes."

Lin Banxia said "oh" and started helping Song Qingluo search. Fortunately, the nature of his work was special enough that he could remain calm even when facing these mangled corpses. As Lin Banxia searched through the clothes on the body, he actually felt something hard. He pulled it out, looked at it, and said with pleasant surprise, "Qingluo, is this it?"

Song Qingluo looked at Lin Banxia and saw the black notebook in his hand.

"Yes, that's it." Song Qingluo grunted in acknowledgment.

Lin Banxia said, "Should we read it here? Or wait until we get back?"

Song Qingluo said, "Let's read it when we get back."

After Song Qingluo's explanation, Lin Banxia learned that the two people who had come with Song Qingluo were Recorders. Their duty was to record everything they encountered, including Lin Banxia's and Song Qingluo's investigation process. And to prevent any accidents, the notebook was made of a special material, and the pen used was also special. A specific method was required to see the words written on it. Song Qingluo had searched the house earlier looking for this very thing, but couldn't find it. He then guessed that the deceased Watcher might have been carrying it.

Having found what they were looking for, the two started to head back.

The way back was relatively smooth. However, when they returned to the Village Chief's house, Lin Banxia saw two more coffins in the yard. His heart sank, his first thought being that something had happened to Mou Xinsi and He Huai'an. Fortunately, when he entered the house, he saw the two of them perfectly fine, sitting by the brazier to warm themselves.

"You're back?" He Huai'an's hair was wet, and he greeted Lin Banxia with a strained smile.

"Yeah, we're back," Lin Banxia replied.

"Is the map drawn?" Song Qingluo didn't offer any comfort, getting straight to the point.

"It's done." He Huai'an took a piece of paper from his coat and handed it to Song Qingluo, saying, "The village layout is simple. There's a stream to the west, which is the village's water source, and the ancestral hall is in the very center. The village isn't large, about the same as what the data indicated. The permanent population should be around five hundred people." He sneezed and rubbed his nose. "We haven't found anything unusual so far."

Song Qingluo mused, "Are there any strange legends in the village?"

"Yes, there are." Mou Xinsi picked up the conversation. "On our way back, we ran into an old lady on the road and asked her about it. She said that this village has angered the Mountain God and is now cursed."

Song Qingluo: "Did it start from the beginning of spring?"

Mou Xinsi said, "Yes. There was too much rain this year, and the stream's water level rose. After that, people in the village started dying. The causes of death were all sorts of strange things. Later, the village elders did some calculations and said it was because they didn't perform the sacrifice properly last autumn, and the Mountain God got angry... enough people have to die to appease the Mountain God's wrath."

This story was more or less the same as what the Village Chief had said. Song Qingluo thought it over while taking off his rain gear.

Lin Banxia sat down next to He Huai'an and warmed himself by the fire. He asked, "What's with the coffins in the yard?"

"Some people just brought them in a moment ago," He Huai'an said. "I don't know who died this time."

Lin Banxia asked, "Where's the Village Chief? Is he okay?"

"He's fine," Mou Xinsi said. "I think he's in the kitchen. You guys sit tight, I'll go have a look."

With that, she got up and went to the kitchen.

The kitchen door was open, and a rich aroma wafted from inside. Mou Xinsi pushed the door and entered but didn't see the Village Chief. She peeked her head in and spotted a pot of steaming hot chicken soup on the stove, with delicious-looking mushrooms floating in it.

Since arriving yesterday, she hadn't had a proper hot meal, making do with dry rations. Just from the smell, she could tell the chicken soup must be incredibly delicious. She swallowed her saliva, forcing herself to resist the craving.

Just as Mou Xinsi was telling herself not to touch other people's things, the Village Chief, who had been gone somewhere, appeared outside. Seeing her there, he said unhappily, "What are you doing here? Did you steal a sip of my soup?"

"No, no, I just thought it smelled nice. I didn't touch it," Mou Xinsi said, embarrassed.

The Village Chief glared. "This chicken soup isn't for you!"

Mou Xinsi wore an awkward expression. She thought the Village Chief was being too harsh; she had only smelled it, so why did he have such an attitude?

Perhaps Mou Xinsi's expression was too obvious, because the Village Chief suddenly stopped his reprimand. He glanced at her, walked over to the side, picked up a bowl, and ladled some soup for her. He said, "The village has a rule. When someone in a family dies, everyone sends them a pot of chicken soup. There aren't many chickens left in this village... just this one bowl."

Mou Xinsi was pleasantly surprised. "Is... is this okay?"

The Village Chief nodded. "It's just for you. Don't go telling anyone else."

"Thank you, thank you." Mou Xinsi expressed her gratitude happily and savored the bowl of chicken soup. Although her body still felt a bit cold, the taste of the soup put her in a good mood. Free-range chicken and wild mushrooms were a perfect match, and after simmering in a clay pot for a few hours, the flavor was so delicious it could make one's tongue fall off. Back in the main room, Mou Xinsi was still recalling the taste, not even paying attention to what Song Qingluo and the others were saying. It wasn't until He Huai'an called her name several times that she snapped back to reality and said, "Huh? What is it?"

"What are you thinking about?" He Huai'an looked at Mou Xinsi's dazed state, a bit helpless. "We were asking if you found the Village Chief. Is he okay?"

"Oh, oh—" Mou Xinsi said, "He's fine, perfectly fine. He's cooking in the kitchen. His attitude just isn't great... he also told us to leave soon and not waste any more time here."

"Did he say anything else?" Song Qingluo asked.

"Nothing else," Mou Xinsi said. "But I don't think he's necessarily telling the whole truth. It's definitely not normal for so many people to die. I think it's possible someone is causing trouble."

Neither Lin Banxia nor Song Qingluo responded. If they hadn't seen it with their own eyes—that young man carrying the coffin being crushed to death—they might have had the same thought as Mou Xinsi. But the facts were right in front of them. It seemed that some unseen force was taking the villagers' lives. Could it be true, as the village legend said, that this village was cursed by some power?

The rain, which had been falling for several days straight, finally stopped in the evening.

Lin Banxia and Song Qingluo had a simple lunch and sat down in the yard. The air was fresh after the rain, but the few coffins placed to the side were quite an eyesore. Fortunately, neither Lin Banxia nor Song Qingluo cared, so the two sat on small stools, discussing their morning trip to the graveyard with unchanged expressions. He Huai'an and Mou Xinsi also stood nearby. He Huai'an was fine, but Mou Xinsi seemed a little uncomfortable, glancing at the coffins from time to time.

Song Qingluo calmly recounted the morning's events, also mentioning his discovery of the notebook.

"Mr. Song, you found the notebook?" He Huai'an said with pleasant surprise.

"Mhm," Song Qingluo said. "Let's take a look."

This notebook was a very important item for them. Due to work regulations, they had to record every detail they observed in it. Although the previous investigators had been in communication with the outside, it was inevitable that some things were overlooked. With this, things would be much easier.

Song Qingluo opened the notebook to the first page. It was completely blank, without any writing. Song Qingluo took his usual pair of black gloves from his pocket and gently put them on. He then closed the notebook. When he opened it again, the blank page was filled with dense text.

He Huai'an and Mou Xinsi were not surprised by this, but Lin Banxia showed a look of astonishment.

At the top of the notebook, a detailed date was recorded. Lin Banxia glanced over it briefly. It felt less like a record and more like a diary, detailing almost every person and event the writer encountered each day in meticulous detail.

The entries began in early April, when they arrived in this strange mountain village.

The first few days of the diary were nothing special, mostly just detailed records of their interactions with the Village Chief and the villagers, and their investigations around the village. It was somewhat similar to Lin Banxia's and his group's current situation, except that not so many people had died back then, and the cemetery on the east side was still empty.

Things took a turn on the fifth day after their arrival in the village.

On that day, there was a heavy downpour.

"7:30 The weather isn't good today. We decided to stay nearby. Zeng Xu seems a little unwell. His temperature has been rising, and he's developed a rash. From the symptoms, it seems he's allergic to something."

"9:00 Zeng Xu's symptoms have started to worsen, and he's having trouble breathing. We've confirmed he's having an allergic reaction, but we haven't found the allergen yet. I checked the breakfast we ate this morning; it was just the most ordinary food, nothing that could cause an allergy."

"9:30 We want to send Zeng Xu out, but with such a long mountain road, he might not make it."

"10:18 Zeng Xu is dead. The cause of death was throat swelling due to an allergic reaction. His entire body turned pink and was covered in horrifying rashes, as if he had contracted some strange infectious disease."

"11:00 While examining his body, we found a strange insect on his calf. I've never seen such an insect before. It seems to be the cause of Zeng Xu's allergic reaction. I've requested instructions from my superior. The mission must continue."

"12:00 Conducted an inspiration test. Hao Yongnian 64, Zhuo Honglang 35, Ai Chi 87. All values are on the high side, approaching dangerous levels. The situation is not optimistic."

"13:00 We're splitting up to investigate this afternoon. I have to go to the stream. I don't like it there. I feel uncomfortable every time I get near it."

"17:54 Recorder changed to Zhuo Honglang. Original recorder Hao Yongnian is deceased. Cause of death: drowning. No external injuries were found on his body. There are signs of slipping and struggling around the corpse. No other information."

The cold words carried little strong emotion, yet they conveyed an unspeakable, bone-chilling horror. The four of them seemed to have fallen into a terrible trap, dying silently one by one from various accidents, without even a chance to struggle.

Allergies, drowning, being struck by lightning—these seemingly ordinary ways to die, when gathered together in a short period, were no longer a coincidence.

After that, the entries in the notebook became much scarcer. It seemed the remaining people were planning to leave. But even though they had gotten into the car parked at the village entrance, they still failed to get away.

Of course, besides their own experiences, the notebook also detailed the things the villagers encountered. At that time, the villagers were probably not as strongly opposed to outsiders, so they had recorded the villagers' bizarre causes of death in detail.

Dying from something like snake venom was already uncommon. Lin Banxia saw the most ridiculous cause of death: a person was just sleeping at home when, in the middle of their sleep, the bed collapsed. Normally, a bed collapsing is something that can happen occasionally, but when this person's wooden bed board broke, the splintered wood formed a sharp point that went straight through their chest. By the time others discovered them, they were no longer breathing.

"That's too absurd a way to die," Lin Banxia said hesitantly. "Even if someone was causing trouble, it's unlikely so many people would die suddenly in one village."

Song Qingluo suddenly asked, "Was Hao Yongnian a Watcher or a Recorder?"

"A Watcher," He Huai'an replied.

"Then why was he the one making the records?" Song Qingluo asked.

"Their group was a special case. Hao Yongnian transferred from being a Recorder to a Watcher, so he was used to taking notes during missions," He Huai'an explained.

Song Qingluo pressed his lips together and said nothing.

Lin Banxia asked, "What's wrong? Is there something unusual?"

Song Qingluo said, "Perhaps we should go take a look by the stream."

Lin Banxia said, "The place where they get water?"

"Mhm," Song Qingluo said. "Hao Yongnian died there. There might be some clues."

"Go now?" Lin Banxia glanced at the sky.

"Tomorrow," Song Qingluo said. "I need to organize my thoughts."

Because of the bad weather, it got dark exceptionally fast. It was only three or four o'clock, but the sky was already pitch-black. Lin Banxia dozed off for a while in the bedroom. When he woke up, Song Qingluo was nowhere to be seen. He asked He Huai'an, who said Song Qingluo had gone out a while ago and wasn't back yet.

"He went out alone? Isn't that dangerous?" Lin Banxia felt a little uneasy. He thought this village was sinister, not just the place itself, but the people in it too.

"He'll be fine." He Huai'an, however, was very confident. He said, "Mr. Song is no ordinary person. Nothing will happen to him."

Lin Banxia could only nod and change the subject. "What are you doing?" When he came out, he saw He Huai'an pacing back and forth in the room with a worried expression.

He Huai'an said in frustration, "My phone has no signal. I'm trying to send a message to the outside..."

Lin Banxia said, "There was signal when we first arrived. How come it's gone now?"

"I don't know," He Huai'an said. "The signal has been intermittent. I saw it got a little better just now and was happy about it, but then it suddenly disappeared again."

"Oh..." Lin Banxia checked his own phone; no signal either. He asked, "Where's Mou Xinsi? I don't see her."

"Her? She's in the yard," He Huai'an said.

Lin Banxia went to the yard and, sure enough, saw Mou Xinsi standing in a corner. Her face was deathly pale, and her eyes, when they met Lin Banxia's, were filled with complex emotions.

Seeing this, Lin Banxia asked her what was wrong.

"Did you... hear any strange sounds?" Mou Xinsi whispered.