An absolute silence descended upon the entire hall, so profound that the delicate sound of a pin dropping would have echoed like a thunderclap.

The woman who had spoken wore a mask of livid disbelief, her gaze fixed on Ding Yi as if she were a creature escaped from Bedlam.

Her tone was sharp and unkind, her stiffly tattooed eyebrows arching high in incredulous anger. “Isn’t this the same as deliberately leading us to our deaths?”

The man standing beside her gently tugged at her arm, a silent plea for restraint. Although his words weren’t as overtly hostile, his expression mirrored her displeasure. “Sis, don’t joke around like that. We genuinely want to help you. If those few over there can offer assistance, then so can we.”

“Joke?” Ding Yi frowned, genuine confusion furrowing her brow. “I assure you, I’m not engaging in a morbid joke. This is my well-considered approach, clearly dangerous, but I truly believe it will work.”

“You all say you want to help me, right?” Ding Yi turned her gaze, scanning the small crowd of onlookers who had been secretly observing her. Their eyes quickly shifted away with guilt when she locked eyes with them. “What about the others? Is there anyone else willing to offer assistance?”

“You’ve all witnessed my current condition. With these rather extensive injuries, it will likely prove challenging for me to engage in any rapid movements. You, on the other hand, are thankfully uninjured. Therefore, the probability of your successful entry and exit from a potentially hazardous situation is demonstrably higher than mine, wouldn’t you agree?”

“No, wait a moment. How about we all venture inside together? If even a single person manages to emerge unscathed, this dangerous instance will be halfway to being cleared.”

Her expression was so utterly natural, so devoid of any apparent malice or manipulation, that the others were left in a state of bewildered astonishment. Was she the one operating on a different plane of logic, or were the people who perceived her as abnormal themselves the ones out of sync with reality?

Ding Yi’s eyes carefully surveyed the room, taking in the many expressions on their faces. “You are all now aware of my proposed course of action for today. Is there anyone among you willing to accompany me?”

Yan Ming immediately shot his hand into the air, his youthful face determined. “Sis, I’ll go with you. Wherever you go, I go.”

Jiang Xianqing gritted her teeth, her hand clamping down firmly on Ding Yi’s wrist, her knuckles white. “Let’s go then. I’ll go with you. We’ll face whatever comes together.”

Feng Baiqiu’s face paled even further, taking on a ghostly hue, but she still tremblingly placed her hand on the back of Jiang Xianqing’s, a silent gesture of solidarity. “Mm!” she managed, her voice barely a whisper.

Ding Yi lowered her eyes, her gaze softening as she looked at the two hands intertwined on the back of her own. A genuine smile, warmer than any she had offered before, finally touched her lips. Raising her head again, she looked at Wang Dong and the others, her expression now expectant. “What about the rest of you?”

The absence of an immediate reaction didn’t seem to bother her. Ding Yi carried on, her smile steady. “Then I recommend that everyone take the chance to relax comfortably at the inn today. After all, once the fire starts spreading, no matter who or what is attracted to it, the ancestral hall is bound to become a very vibrant place.”

“Of course,” she added, maintaining a light tone, “I would be thrilled if anyone else decided to join us.”

Only six individuals made the journey to the ancestral hall that day.

The figure holding the small, incongruous red flag at the forefront could scarcely be classified as a person in the strictest sense of the word.

The man following at a discreet distance behind the tour guide kept his hands tucked deep within his pockets, his expression an inscrutable mask.

Behind him, three women and one man walked in a tense, uneven line. Except for the girl, who had a perpetually pale face and wore her makeshift DIY crop top, radiating an unsettling calm, the other three appeared visibly strained and stiff, their movements betraying a sense of foreboding, as if they were marching toward the precipice of a battlefield.

Upon their arrival, the tour guide halted, turning to face them with his standard, unnervingly cheerful smile. “Alright, my dear tourists,” he said.

“Now, it’s time for your leisurely exploration. Feel free to wander around, immerse yourselves in the local customs, and absorb the rich tapestry of our history. I will return to collect you all before the encroaching darkness.”

“So, I sincerely hope you all thoroughly enjoy your free time.”

During their journey to the ancestral hall, Ding Yi had already laid out her specific plan in meticulous detail. The moment the tour guide departed with his usual unsettlingly cheerful wave, the small group immediately dispersed, their focus shifting to the urgent task of gathering dry leaves.

The ancestral hall was a vast building. Ding Yi used the dry leaves gathered over about an hour to make six separate piles, the largest and most prominent one located in the open courtyard, a clear invitation to the possible fire.

Ding Yi and Qin Yuan took up their concealed positions within the main ancestral hall, the very heart of the structure and, by extension, likely the most perilous location. The tense trio, Yan Ming, Jiang Xianqing, and Feng Baiqiu, sought refuge in the Yangzhi Hall, a smaller, adjacent building.

Once the scattered fires were ignited, thick, acrid smoke billowed upwards with surprising speed, staining the clear sky and carrying the scent of burning foliage.

Three seconds after the first tendrils of smoke began to rise, there was no tremor, no telltale vibration within the ancestral hall. Ding Yi knew her gamble had paid off. All three types of grotesque monsters they had encountered thus far exhibited a distinct aversion to fire.

Therefore, with the ancestral hall now ablaze in multiple locations, the only entities likely to emerge from the surrounding town would be its human residents.

Concealed behind a dark and precariously balanced pile of debris within what appeared to be a storage room, Ding Yi meticulously observed the unfolding situation outside through the narrow gaps in the accumulated junk. The confined space was barely large enough to accommodate a single person; only someone as slender as her could manage to squeeze inside.

Ding Yi silently counted in her mind, the numbers a steady rhythm against the backdrop of crackling flames. Just as she reached the count of one hundred, she saw the first man rush into the main ancestral hall. The man was not young, and his clothing was identical to that worn by the old man in the oiled paper umbrella shop.

In the blink of an eye, two more elderly men of similar age followed, one of whom was indeed the old man from the aforementioned shop. They wore expressions of palpable nervousness, exchanged a few hushed words, and then immediately dispersed, moving with surprising agility for their apparent age.

Ding Yi noted that the first old man who had rushed inside was heading directly towards her hiding place.

Ding Yi retreated slightly further into the shadows, withdrawing her gaze from the gap, her heart pounding but her mind surprisingly calm. Before setting the fires, she had taken the initiative to locate the ladder Wang Dong had mentioned and carefully positioned it atop the precarious pile of junk that concealed her.

After the sounds of movement directly above her subsided, Ding Yi didn’t immediately risk peering through the gap again. Instead, she resumed her silent counting. Just as she reached the count of ten, a pair of turbid yet frighteningly large eyes suddenly pressed close to the half-palm-wide opening.

Ding Yi’s heart lurched violently, and she instinctively held her breath, every muscle in her body tensing.

From her constricted vantage point, she could discern the fleshy red corners of the eyes, the bulging, clouded eyeballs, and the dense network of crimson blood vessels that crisscrossed their surface.

The old man’s grotesque eyes scanned the immediate surroundings for a fleeting moment, finding nothing of interest. Then, with surprising strength, he picked up the sturdy and heavy ladder and quickly departed.

Ding Yi pressed a trembling hand to her chest, took a slow, steadying breath, and then tentatively approached the gap once more.

From her new angle, she could only see the old man placing the ladder in front of the offering table. He then climbed up with surprising speed, remained out of her direct line of sight for approximately two minutes, and then climbed down empty-handed, carefully returning the ladder to its original position.

By this time, the thick smoke that had initially billowed upwards was beginning to dissipate, and the fires were gradually consuming their fuel.

The elderly men, all dressed in the same nondescript clothing, gradually reconvened within the main ancestral hall.

Perhaps operating under the unspoken principle of “since we’re already here,” they began to divide tasks and cooperate with a strange, almost ritualistic efficiency, inexplicably starting to clean up the soot and debris. During this prolonged period of tense waiting, Ding Yi’s legs started to cramp from her extended squatting position.

Fortunately, while these men possessed the outward appearance of advanced age, their movements and actions belied a surprising vitality, lacking the sluggishness one might typically associate with the elderly.

Approximately half an hour later, they completed their peculiar cleaning ritual, and the entire ancestral hall was now strangely tidier, despite the recent fires. They gathered once more in front of the offering table, their movements synchronized as they prepared to burn incense together.

Ding Yi then observed one of the old men carrying a bucket. The contents sloshed with a viscous consistency, reflecting the dim light.

It was a bucket of oil.

With methodical precision, they added fresh oil to all the oil lamps scattered throughout the hall and carefully relit them, the flickering flames casting dancing shadows on their aged faces.

“May the ancestors bestow their blessings upon us.”

“May they grant our Qingping Town enduring peace and prosperity.”

A murmur rippled through the group, tinged with resentment. “In the end, all of this trouble stems from the Chen family.”

“That ungrateful wretch Chen Bixiao repaid kindness with bitter enmity, and that idiot Chen Jinsheng too. For the sake of two insignificant women, he dared to oppose us. Daughters can be born again, wives can be found again. We supported him, elevated him to the position of town chief, yet he betrayed our expectations, betrayed the trust that Qingping Town placed in him!”

Ding Yi watched the gathered old men outside her narrow field of vision with a cold, unwavering gaze.

The old man from the oiled paper umbrella shop, clearly no stranger to this kind of targeted animosity, retorted, his voice weary, “What does any of this have to do with me?”

“You and your kin readily accepted the benefits derived from trading Chen Bixiao’s life, yet you are so quick to wash your hands of the unpleasant details, the dirty work that made it all possible.”

“My three biological children and my two younger sisters are all enshrined up there,” the old man insisted, his voice strained. “They were all good people, certainly not the kind of ungrateful wretches who are never satisfied.”

“Who truly knows?” one of the younger-sounding old men interjected sarcastically, a cruel twist to his lips. “After all, in terms of lineage, Chen Bixiao was still your great-great-aunt. Your great-grandfather caused quite a bit of… trouble… back in those days.”

The old man Chen’s face flushed with anger. “Are you deliberately trying to provoke a fight?”

“Alright, that’s enough bickering,” a low and authoritative voice cut through the rising tension. “The ancestors will undoubtedly bestow their blessings upon us.”

A chorus of voices echoed his sentiment, but one carried a chilling undercurrent of malice. “May Chen Bixiao’s spirit be forever denied reincarnation, condemned to the deepest pits of hell, and may all those who have sought to harm Qingping Town in such a manner meet a swift and agonizing demise.”

“Did either of you manage to see where that umbrella is hidden?”

Once the group of elderly men had finally departed, the five remaining individuals emerged from their respective hiding places, blinking in the now clearer air.

Qin Yuan glanced at the silent Ding Yi, then casually pointed to the area directly above his head. “The one hanging directly above the incense burner.”

“Then what in the world are we waiting for?” Jiang Xianqing exclaimed, her impatience evident. “Hurry up and get it!”

Qin Yuan turned to Ding Yi, his gaze curious and questioning. “Would you be willing to enlighten me about your next course of action?”

“I want to,” Ding Yi stated, raising her head, her eyes clear and focused, yet revealing an unsettling, undisguised madness, “burn this entire place down.”