The Grim Reaper's Banquet (6) Part 1

He Huai'an really couldn't figure it out. He hadn't slept much at all, only drifting into a daze for a short while just before dawn.

Day broke, but the rain hadn't stopped, and it looked like it wouldn't stop anytime soon.

Song Qingluo and Lin Banxia woke up very early. They woke He Huai'an, and after the three of them quickly washed up, they went to the main hall and saw the Village Chief and the elaborate breakfast he had prepared.

“Village Chief,” He Huai'an spoke directly. “What were you doing outside our window last night?”

The Village Chief puffed on his dry pipe, the faint smoke blurring his features. He said vaguely, “I was afraid something would happen to you.”

So it really was him last night. He Huai'an's heart tightened. He said, “What could happen to us?”

“Do you remember a few nights ago?” the Village Chief said. “I had an argument with my nephew. My nephew hanged himself in the courtyard, right at your door. I was afraid something else would happen tonight, so I came over to check.”

That did make sense. He Huai'an let out a soft "oh."

“What are you going to do with that girl's body?” the Village Chief said. “Just leave it there? That's unlucky...”

He Huai'an said in a low voice, “We’ll take her back after this is all over.”

The Village Chief said, “Then you should take her away today. Otherwise, she'll have to be dealt with according to the village rules.” He said coldly, “The dead can't be left outside. Leaving her there like that will harm the living.”

He Huai'an glanced at Song Qingluo for his opinion. Song Qingluo was casually breaking off a piece of a compressed biscuit and putting it in his mouth. He said softly, “Then you should take her back. While you're at it, go out and restock some supplies before coming back—if you can leave, that is.”

“Okay.” He Huai'an felt a sense of relief.

“Are you going to eat this breakfast or not? If not, I’m clearing it away.” The Village Chief rapped his knuckles firmly on the table.

A lavish breakfast was laid out on the table: steamed buns, flatbreads, and a thick, fragrant rice congee. For the three of them, who hadn't eaten properly in days, it was a huge temptation. But because Song Qingluo had warned them yesterday not to eat the food here, no one touched it.

Seeing them remain silent, the Village Chief cleared away all the food and left the courtyard.

Song Qingluo instructed, “He Huai'an, go take Mou Xinsi’s body back. Lin Banxia and I need to investigate something. Be careful.”

He Huai'an nodded. “Alright, Mr. Song. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

Song Qingluo said, “No, if you can really get out, don't come back. Inform the people outside to send at least four more armed personnel in.”

He Huai'an was slightly stunned. “Mr. Song, have you figured something out?”

Song Qingluo said softly, “Just a guess. It’s a precaution.”

He Huai'an agreed and got up to leave.

He didn't know where Lin Banxia and Song Qingluo were going to investigate, but that wasn't his concern. His job was to follow Song Qingluo’s orders and do everything he was asked to do.

Mou Xinsi’s body was still in the bedding. He Huai'an put on his rain gear, carried her on his back, and headed towards the parking spot with an umbrella.

The parking spot wasn't far from the Village Chief’s residence, on a flat piece of land behind the courtyard. Through the curtain of rain, He Huai'an saw the car parked there in the distance and pressed the key fob.

But the car lights didn't turn on.

Seeing this, He Huai'an's heart sank. He quickened his pace towards the car. However, when he reached the car and saw the disastrous state it was in, he finally understood what Song Qingluo had meant by “if you can leave, that is.”

The car had been intentionally vandalized. The window was smashed, leaving a large hole. The dashboard was completely destroyed, and the steering wheel had been violently ripped off. The car was a complete wreck; it was impossible to drive.

He Huai'an stood frozen in place. He had thought that the biggest obstacle he would face in this village was the Aberrant Object. Only now did he realize that Song Qingluo had been right. The first thing he had to face was the villagers, who were full of malice towards them.

He Huai'an turned his head and looked at the low buildings behind him, which blended into the rain. At that moment, he felt as if he could see through the glass to the pairs of malicious eyes hiding inside the buildings, wishing for these outsiders to die quickly, to die in some irresistible accident.

Silently, He Huai'an carried the body on his back and started walking back slowly. The rain blurred his vision. He could only lower his head and trudge with difficulty along the muddy road. Perhaps because the hope of leaving was gone, the journey back seemed much harder than the journey there. His legs began to feel heavy, as if his muscles were filled with cement.

Just as he was about to reach the Village Chief's gate, He Huai'an suddenly felt a chill. A drop of rain landed on the tip of his eyebrow, trickled down his cheekbone and jaw, and finally hung from his chin. He gently shook his head, trying to flick off the drop of water. But in the instant he moved his head, he felt a puff of cold air on his ear. He Huai'an’s expression froze. He turned his head sideways and saw Mou Xinsi’s face resting on his shoulder. Her face was bloodless, tinged with a bluish-purple—the look of a dead person. He Huai'an thought in despair, he really hoped that cold breath just now was a hallucination.

Lin Banxia and Song Qingluo didn't know what He Huai'an had encountered. The two of them left the Village Chief's house and headed straight for Grandpa He's residence.

It was an inconspicuous earthen house. Without the funeral procession, it seemed exceptionally quiet.

Song Qingluo knocked first. After a long while, an aged voice came from inside: “Who is it?”

Song Qingluo thought for a moment and said a name: “Jiang Ruonan.”

“Ruonan?” A pair of wrinkled hands slowly opened the wooden door. Old Master He revealed half his face, saw Lin Banxia and Song Qingluo standing outside, and was slightly stunned. His expression immediately turned cold. “What are you looking for me for?”

Song Qingluo reached out and blocked the door. Although he had delicate, doll-like features, his strength was completely at odds with his appearance. He said softly, “There are some things I’d like to ask you.”

“I have nothing to say.” Old Master He seemed very resistant.

“I haven't even asked yet,” Song Qingluo said.

The three of them were at a standstill at the door. In the end, Old Master He relented. With a cold snort, he released his hand and let Song Qingluo in. Lin Banxia followed behind him into the house.

The house looked very cluttered at first glance. There were herbs everywhere, some that Lin Banxia recognized and some that he didn't. The room was filled with the rich, distinct smell of herbs, which wasn't unpleasant.

Even after letting them in, Old Master He didn't give them a friendly look. He sat down on a chair beside them and said nothing.

Song Qingluo didn't rush to ask questions. Instead, he wandered around the room, looking here and there with great interest. In the end, it was Old Master He who grew impatient first. He tapped his cane and said, “What did you come to me for? Are you just here to look around for fun?”

Song Qingluo said calmly, “How many dead people have been laid out in this house?”

Old Master He said angrily, “That’s none of your business!”

Song Qingluo said, “Or let me rephrase, how many more people do you plan to lay out?”

Old Master He’s face turned ashen. If he weren't so old, he probably would have stood up and fought Song Qingluo.

But Song Qingluo seemed not to notice his ugly expression and said nonchalantly, “This rain has been going on for a long time, hasn't it? I’ve read the records. You’ve had a flash flood here before. Back then, it also rained for over half a month in the village. Tell me, if this rain continues, how much longer can the villagers survive? Long enough for you to feed that so-called Mountain God with your lives?”

Old Master He gritted his teeth. “Do you have a solution? If you did, would your companion have died so miserably?”

Song Qingluo said, “It's a desperate measure, but we're all going to die anyway, so why not let us seek our own doom? Why must you dirty your own hands?”

Old Master He didn't refute him. From his expression, it seemed Song Qingluo’s words had swayed him.

“I just want to see the records of the villagers' deaths,” Song Qingluo said. “You should have the most complete set here.”

Old Master He was silent for a long time. Just when Lin Banxia thought he would refuse Song Qingluo’s request, he pointed a finger towards a bookshelf by the wall. “The rightmost volume.”

Song Qingluo walked quickly to the bookshelf, pulled out the record book, and began to flip through it rapidly.

Lin Banxia stood beside him, also looking at the record. It detailed the date, specific time, weather, and the cause and location of the deceased's death.

The first death was on March 11th. The weather was clear. The location of death was near the stream at the village entrance. The cause of death was an accidental slip while washing clothes by the river, hitting their head on a rock by the roadside, breaking their spine, and dying on the spot.

This accident was like a herald of the God of Death. In the following days, death began to spread through the entire village like a thick fog.

Song Qingluo read ten lines at a glance, extremely fast. Before Lin Banxia could react, he saw Song Qingluo take out the map of the village drawn by He Huai'an and start marking points on it with a pen he carried.

Black dots were marked on the map, one by one. They were dense and disordered, showing no discernible pattern at first glance.

Song Qingluo seemed very dissatisfied with this result. He furrowed his brows, staring at the map in his hands, his intense gaze looking as if it could burn a hole through it.

Lin Banxia was puzzled. “It doesn’t seem to have any pattern. Why do you have that expression?”

Song Qingluo said, “Something feels off.”

Lin Banxia thought for a moment and agreed that it was a bit strange...

The two stared at the map for a while. Suddenly, Song Qingluo started drawing on it again. Lin Banxia asked, “What are you doing?”

Song Qingluo replied, “Separating the rainy days and the clear days to see.”

Lin Banxia had a sudden realization—when the rainy and clear day markers were replaced with different symbols, the clear day markers formed a strange pattern. Lin Banxia found it hard to describe in words. If he had to say, it looked like the eye of a reptile. The vertical pupil was the village's only stream, and everywhere the pupil could see was marked by the pattern of death.

The pattern formed by the rainy day symbols, however, was not as regular. They were scattered randomly in various corners of the village, with nothing out of the ordinary.

“Why? Why is it like this?” Lin Banxia frowned. “Could it be that the rain weakened the effect of that thing?”

Song Qingluo mused, “No, it's not weakened, it's strengthened—”

Lin Banxia glanced at Song Qingluo and understood his meaning.

Indeed, the rain didn't weaken the thing's effect; it strengthened it. Because the thing had always been in the water, when the rainwater carried this unknown substance and sprinkled it over the entire village, death became random. But on clear days, death only visited the vicinity of the stream.

But regardless, the turbid stream held the secret that could save this village.

While Lin Banxia and Song Qingluo were talking, Old Master He had been listening from the side. Only when the two reached a conclusion did his expression change slightly. He asked, “Is it a problem with the stream water?”

“It should be,” Song Qingluo said. “If I remember correctly, your entire village drinks water from the stream, right?”

Old Master He said, “Then why did everyone drink it, but only those people died?”

Song Qingluo said, “The specific reason can only be studied after we find that thing.” With that, the two put down the things in their hands, planning to go check the stream again.

Seeing them about to leave, Old Master He said in a low voice, “The stream flows down from the mountain. Its source is in a cave. It's been raining too much lately, so the cave is flooded. You won't be able to get in...”

Song Qingluo said, “We still have to go take a look first.”

Old Master He looked as if he wanted to say something but hesitated.