Spirit Realm Wanderer

Chapter 5: The Ancient Temple

An abandoned tunnel... Zhang Yuanqing looked around in a panic; being suddenly transported to an unfamiliar environment would leave anyone feeling disoriented and at a loss. “A tunnel? Is this the Sheling Tunnel from the ghost stories?” As a native of Songhai City, he was, of course, familiar with the Sheling Tunnel—one of the “Ten Great Ghost Stories.” When he was a child and would stay up late playing at night, his grandmother would scare him with these tales. But setting aside the fact that ghost stories are just fanciful tales, take the Sheling Tunnel, for example—Zhang Yuanqing had actually passed through it just a few days ago when he returned to his hometown to pay respects to his father. The real Sheling Tunnel wasn’t like this at all—it wasn’t nearly this dilapidated. “That’s right—this is the Spirit Realm, not the real Sheling Tunnel.” The cramped surroundings made him uneasy, and Zhang Yuanqing moved forward cautiously, with only the lonely sound of his own footsteps echoing in his ears. As he walked, he pondered his situation and the information provided by the voice in his head. There was no doubt about it: he had encountered a supernatural phenomenon, been transported into a ghost story, and was about to undertake a mission assigned by a mysterious force. “That voice gave me two tasks: survive for three hours and explore the Spirit Realm. Difficulty: S-rank, ‘solo death’ type… This ‘death’ type really has me freaked out.” Surviving for three hours meant there would be extreme danger. Exploring the Spirit Realm... that must mean exploring this tunnel—in other words, is the tunnel extremely dangerous? He quietly braced himself, and at the same time, a question flashed through his mind: What reward would there be for completing the mission? Since it’s a mission, there’s bound to be a reward, right? “Hmm, according to the stats panel from earlier, my class is ‘Night Wanderer,’ but my level is 0 instead of 1. Becoming a Night Wanderer must be one of the rewards, right? What exactly is a Night Wanderer?” “Bingge was right—this black card really can change your life, but I overlooked the second half of what he said. When he said it’s hard to control, was he referring to how dangerous it is?” Zhang Yuanqing silently analyzed the situation based on the information he had. Just then, the old-fashioned xenon lamp beside him—perhaps due to an unstable circuit—flickered a few times. As the light and darkness interplayed, Zhang Yuanqing faintly made out the silhouette of a figure wearing a miner’s helmet standing beneath the lamp. Damn... He jumped up in fright; his train of thought was instantly interrupted, and he bolted forward like a startled deer. Looking back, the xenon lamp was shining steadily and had stopped flickering. That shadowy figure in the miner’s helmet from a moment ago seemed to have been just his imagination. After that scare, Zhang Yuanqing didn’t dare stay in this spooky place any longer and hurried toward the tunnel exit. Tap, tap, tap... The sound of his footsteps echoed through the silent tunnel. Zhang Yuanqing didn’t dare to stop even for a moment; he kept walking briskly for five or six minutes. The old-fashioned xenon lights on the arched ceiling began to flicker again, but this time, no figure wearing a miner’s helmet appeared. “Didn’t they follow me?” He felt a slight sense of relief but didn’t dare to stop. Keeping his head down, he walked briskly—until suddenly, his gaze, fixed on the ground, caught a detail that made his heart skip a beat. The orange xenon lights cast a long shadow behind him, and alongside his shadow, more than a dozen other shadows trailed behind. They’ve been following me all along?! A chill shot up from his feet to his head, sending shivers down his spine. Zhang Yuanqing’s face went pale with fear, and he began to run frantically, his footsteps pounding. Finally, the tunnel entrance came into view ahead, and beyond it lay the frosty, moonlit glow. Zhang Yuanqing burst out of the tunnel in one breath, clutching his knees as he bent over, gasping for air. Once his breathing had steadied, he looked around. The full moon hung desolately in the night sky like a plate; in its glow, the stars paled in comparison. The lush forest was bathed in moonlight, casting vast swaths of deep shadow. He found himself in the middle of a desolate, wild mountainous region. The xenon lights inside the tunnel flickered a few times before going out completely. The vast tunnel entrance was pitch-black and silent, like the jaws of a beast waiting to devour its prey. “Get out of here quickly...” A chill ran down Zhang Yuanqing’s spine as he began climbing the rugged mountain path. After taking a dozen or so steps, he looked back again and saw a row of figures standing at the tunnel entrance—all wearing miners’ helmets, clad in tattered clothes, and with their heads bowed. They stood in the shadows, beyond the reach of the moonlight, silent, as if bidding him farewell. Startled, Zhang Yuanqing took a few steps back, then spun around and ran up the mountain. The path was lined with lush foliage on both sides, through which the moonlight filtered in thin, scattered beams—enough for Zhang Yuanqing to see where he was going. But the silence in the mountains was eerie; there was no chirping of insects or singing of birds in the woods, which made Zhang Yuanqing’s footsteps sound especially loud. “It’s way too quiet. It’s impossible for there not to be even a single insect chirping in the mountains at this time of year.” He looked around. The full moon hung like a disk in the sky, and the tree shadows danced in the breeze. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something in the darkness was watching him. He didn’t know how long he’d been walking—until a thin sheen of sweat broke out on his skin—but Zhang Yuanqing finally emerged from the dense forest, and his view suddenly opened up. Moonlight flowed like water, and the surroundings were deathly silent. At the end of the rugged mountain path stood an abandoned ancient temple. It stood silently in the darkness. It was unclear how many years this ancient temple had been abandoned. The paint on the main gate in front of the temple was peeling and blackened, riddled with holes; the lanterns at the eaves had fallen to the ground, leaving only their bamboo frames. The plaque was still there, covered in cobwebs and hanging crookedly beneath the eaves, but the light was too dim to make out what was written on it. The steps leading up to the temple gate were cracked, with weeds growing thickly in the fissures. This is a desolate, remote mountainous area—with no village in sight, no inn nearby—so how could there possibly be a temple here? Wait a minute... a temple?! Zhang Yuanqing suddenly realized what was happening; it was as if he could hear the voice from the Spirit Realm’s introduction echoing in his ears “Don’t go into the temple, don’t go into the temple...” “According to that strange voice’s warning, I shouldn’t enter the temple. Wait—I’ve already exited the tunnel. That means what I’m really here to explore is this dilapidated ancient temple.” After hesitating for a long time at the temple entrance, Zhang Yuanqing cautiously took a few steps toward the ancient temple standing in the darkness and stepped over the dilapidated threshold. What met his eyes was a vast front courtyard, overgrown with waist-high weeds. A rotting, half-man-tall incense burner lay toppled in the grass, having endured wind and rain for who knows how many years. Beneath his feet lay a path paved with blue stone slabs, with clumps of wild grass sprouting from the cracks between them. His gaze followed the undulating, withered grass to the end of the bluestone path, where a dilapidated main hall stood on a high foundation, its steps numbering no fewer than six. A dim, yellowish light shone through the latticework doors of the main hall. “A light?” The surroundings were deathly silent and desolate. As the bright moonlight poured down, that faint glow offered Zhang Yuanqing not even a hint of warmth in such a setting. If anything, it made him feel even more terrified. Rustle... Treading through clumps of withered, yellow wild grass, he remained on high alert as he made his way toward the main hall; in the vast, empty space, the sound of his footsteps echoed with startling clarity. Rustle, rustle... Suddenly, Zhang Yuanqing’s ears twitched slightly; he heard an additional set of footsteps behind him—something was following him. He whipped his head around. The night was as still as water, the wild grass thick and overgrown—but there was nothing behind him. “Was that my imagination?” Zhang Yuanqing stood still for a moment, his heart pounding, then set off again. “Rustle, rustle, rustle...” The sound of footsteps returned. This time he heard it clearly—something was truly following him from behind. Could it really be that eerie? Had he encountered a malevolent spirit the moment he entered the temple? He didn’t dare look back and quickened his pace. The footsteps behind him quickened as well. Zhang Yuanqing could hold it in no longer. As goosebumps rose on his skin, he broke into a full-out sprint toward the main hall. The footsteps behind him followed like a shadow, hot on his heels. As he ran, Zhang Yuanqing quickly burst out of the thicket of weeds and approached the main hall. He leaped up the six steps in two bounds and, finally, with a loud “clang,” burst through the main hall’s double lattice doors. The footsteps behind him suddenly vanished. “Pant, pant…” Panting heavily, he finally dared to look back. Moonlight poured like water across the courtyard—the overgrown grass and stone path were so still it was frightening—but there was nothing there. “Thank goodness they didn’t follow me.” After catching his breath, Zhang Yuanqing gently closed the main hall’s door, as if to shut out his fear. He then scanned the interior of the main hall. Upon a tall stone pedestal stood a goddess clad in a fur-lined cloak and exquisite robes. Her face was round, her eyebrows and eyes slender, and she exuded an air of benevolence. The Lady held a flywhisk in one hand and made a grasping motion with the other; it seemed as though she had been holding something, but now her hand was empty. To her left and right stood young attendants holding swords and maidservants bearing books. In front of the pedestal stood a dust-covered offering table, upon which sat a candlestick holding a twenty-centimeter-long candle—as thick as a baby’s forearm—burning quietly. The candlelight dispelled the darkness and seemed to dispel the fear in Zhang Yuanqing’s heart as well; he felt his emotions had stabilized considerably. On the left-hand wall hung two faded, cracked wooden panels, covered with inscriptions in regular script. Zhang Yuanqing strolled over to the wall and gazed at them by the candlelight of twilight; the style of these regular script characters was classical Chinese. His command of the Chinese language was quite good, and by piecing together the text through a combination of guesswork and careful reading, he gained a clear understanding of his surroundings. This mountain was called Sandao Mountain, and the mountain deity enshrined in the temple was known as the Lady of Sandao Mountain. This Mountain Goddess was originally from Songfu in the early Ming Dynasty. She practiced asceticism on San Dao Mountain in Songfu, mastered the art of talismans and elixirs, and was capable of summoning rain and banishing ghosts, ensuring favorable weather and bountiful harvests for the region. As a result, she was revered by the people as a deity. After she ascended to heaven, the local authorities built this temple on San Dao Mountain, naming it the “Temple of the Lady of San Dao Mountain.” It is managed by her spiritual successors, who serve as temple priests. “A temple from the early Ming Dynasty—that’s got to be five or six hundred years old by now,” Zhang Yuanqing muttered under his breath. At that moment, he couldn’t help but glance under the table of offerings, and a sudden chill ran down his spine. A dark figure lay in the shadows beneath the table. He hadn’t noticed it at first because he’d been too frightened, and the candlelight was dim. Zhang Yuanqing steeled himself and approached; upon closer inspection, he saw that it was nothing more than a skeleton. Amid his fear, Zhang Yuanqing breathed a sigh of relief; compared to this eerie mountain god’s shrine, the skeleton was actually less terrifying. Taking a few steps closer, by the faint candlelight, he made out the clothes on the skeleton—a dust-covered work uniform. A worker? “Is this the construction crew from back then? So I really have entered the world of those urban legends.” No sooner had Zhang Yuanqing formed this conjecture than a more chilling possibility occurred to him: perhaps the construction crew from back then, just like him, had stumbled upon this place by mistake. That’s why the urban legend was born. If it’s the former, this so-called “spirit realm” generates scenes based on the urban legend. But if it’s the latter, it means the ancient temple has always existed, and the construction crew—just like him right now—were all victims. Based on the historical background of the Mountain God Temple, Zhang Yuanqing leaned more toward the latter possibility. “An entire construction crew died in this temple, with only one survivor. People really do die here... Now that I’ve entered this temple myself, I could face unknown dangers at any moment...” Whoa—he sucked in a sharp breath, his nerves tightening once more as he instinctively scanned his surroundings. Then, he suddenly realized a detail that was chilling upon closer inspection. This ancient temple dates back to the Ming Dynasty—it has such a long history. How could the candles still be burning? Who is replacing the candles in the main hall? The more he thought about it, the more chilling it became; even the benevolent-looking sculpture seemed to exude an eerie, sinister aura in the candlelight. Although the three clay sculptures were covered in dust, they were lifelike, with every detail carved with striking realism—especially the eyes. Standing on their pedestals, they gazed down at Zhang Yuanqing from above in the twilight candlelight.