Ancient Temple

An abandoned tunnel.

Zhang Yuanqing looked around in a panic. Being suddenly transported to an unfamiliar environment would leave anyone feeling flustered and helpless.

"A tunnel? Is this the Sheling Tunnel from the urban legends?"

As a native of Songhai City, he was well aware of the Sheling Tunnel, one of the ten great urban legends. When he was a mischievous child who wouldn't go to sleep at night, Grandmother would use these legends to scare him.

However, setting aside the fact that urban legends were merely ethereal stories, Zhang Yuanqing had actually passed by the Sheling Tunnel just a few days ago while returning to his hometown to pay respects to his father.

The real Sheling Tunnel looked nothing like this—how could it be so dilapidated?

"Right, this is the Spirit Realm, not the real Sheling Tunnel."

The cramped environment was unsettling. Zhang Yuanqing walked forward cautiously, his own lonely footsteps the only sound in his ears.

As he walked, he pondered his situation and contemplated the information provided by the voice in his head.

There was no doubt that he had encountered a supernatural phenomenon, been brought into an urban legend, and was now tasked with completing a mission issued by a mysterious power.

"That voice gave me two tasks: survive for three hours and explore the Spirit Realm. The difficulty is S-rank, and it's a solo death-type mission. This 'death-type' part really makes me nervous."

Surviving for three hours implied that there would be extreme danger.

Exploring the Spirit Realm likely meant exploring this tunnel, which meant the tunnel itself was dangerous?

He quietly tensed his nerves, while at the same time, a question flashed through his mind: what was the reward for completing the mission?

Since it was a mission, there had to be a reward, right?

"Hmm, according to the attribute panel from earlier, my profession is Night Wanderer, but my level is 0 instead of 1. Becoming a Night Wanderer must be one of the rewards, but what is a Night Wanderer?"

"Brother Bing was right; this Black Card really does change one's life. But I ignored the second half of his words—that this thing is hard to control. Did he mean the level of danger?"

Zhang Yuanqing analyzed silently, combining the information he had.

Just then, the old-fashioned xenon lamp beside him seemed to have a faulty circuit and flickered a few times. Amidst the interplay of light and shadow, Zhang Yuanqing vaguely saw a figure wearing a miner's hat standing under the light.

Damn it. He jumped in fright, his train of thought instantly shattered, and he bolted forward like a startled deer.

Looking back, the xenon lamp remained lit, flickering no more.

The black shadow wearing the miner's hat from a moment ago seemed to have been a hallucination.

After this scare, Zhang Yuanqing dared not stay in this ghostly place any longer and quickly headed toward the tunnel exit.

Tap, tap, tap. The sound of his footsteps echoed through the quiet tunnel. Zhang Yuanqing didn't dare stop for a second. After walking briskly like this for five or six minutes, the old xenon lamp on the arched ceiling flickered again, but this time, no figure in a miner's hat appeared.

"It didn't follow me?"

He felt a slight sense of relief, but not daring to linger, he kept his head down and walked quickly. Suddenly, his eyes fixed on the ground, and he caught a detail that made his heart stop.

The orange xenon light cast his shadow long, but beside his shadow, there were a dozen others following along.

They've been following me the whole time?!

A chill shot from his feet to his head, raising goosebumps all over his body. Zhang Yuanqing's face turned pale with terror, and he began to run wildly, his feet thumping against the ground.

Finally, the tunnel exit appeared ahead, and beyond it lay the cold, frost-like moonlight.

Zhang Yuanqing rushed out of the tunnel in one breath, clutching his knees and gasping for air.

After catching his breath, he surveyed his surroundings. A full moon hung lonely in the night sky like a plate, its brilliance causing the stars to lose their luster.

A lush forest bathed in moonlight, casting large, dense shadows.

He was in the middle of a desolate mountain wilderness.

The xenon lamps in the tunnel flickered a few times and then all went out. The massive tunnel entrance was pitch-black and silent, like the maw of a beast waiting to devour someone.

"I need to leave, now."

Zhang Yuanqing felt his scalp tingle as he began to climb along the rugged mountain path.

After walking a dozen steps, he looked back again and saw a row of figures standing at the tunnel entrance, wearing miner's hats and tattered clothes, their heads hanging low.

They stood in the shadows where the moonlight couldn't reach, saying nothing, as if seeing him off.

Zhang Yuanqing backed away in horror, then spun around and ran up the mountain.

The mountain path was flanked by lush branches and leaves, casting dappled moonlight that was just enough for Zhang Yuanqing to see the road.

Yet, the mountain was terrifyingly silent; there were no insects chirping or birds calling in the forest, which made Zhang Yuanqing's footsteps sound exceptionally loud.

"It's too quiet. It's impossible for there to be no insect sounds in the mountains at this time of year."

He looked around. The full moon was like a plate, the tree shadows swayed, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something in the darkness was watching him.

He didn't know how long he had been walking, but by the time a thin layer of sweat broke out on his body, Zhang Yuanqing finally emerged from the dense forest, and his field of vision suddenly opened up.

The moonlight was like water, and everything around was deathly still. At the end of the rugged mountain path stood a deserted ancient temple.

It stood silently in the darkness.

It was unclear how many years this ancient temple had been abandoned. The paint on the gate was mottled and blackened, riddled with wormholes, and the lanterns at the eaves had fallen to the ground, leaving only their bamboo skeletons.

The plaque was still there, covered in spiderwebs and hanging crookedly under the eaves, but the light was too dim to see what was written on it.

The steps in front of the temple gate were cracked, with weeds growing from the fissures.

This is a desolate wilderness, miles from any village or shop—how could there be a temple here?

Wait, a temple?!

Zhang Yuanqing snapped to his senses, the voice from the Spirit Realm's briefing echoing in his ears:

"Do not enter the temple, do not enter the temple."

Following the hint from that strange voice, I shouldn't have entered. No, wait—I've already exited the tunnel. That means what I'm truly meant to explore is this dilapidated ancient temple.

After hesitating for a long time at the entrance, Zhang Yuanqing cautiously stepped forward, walking toward the ancient temple standing in the darkness, crossing over the broken threshold.

What came into view was a vast front courtyard, overgrown with waist-high weeds. A rotted, half-man-high incense burner lay toppled in the grass, having endured who knows how many years of wind and rain.

Beneath his feet was a path paved with bluestone slabs, with clumps of weeds sprouting from the gaps between them.

His gaze followed the undulating, withered grass to the end of the stone path, where a dilapidated main hall stood on a high foundation, accessible by six stone steps. Dim, yellowish light filtered through the latticed doors of the hall.

"There's light?"

The surroundings were silent, desolate, and ruined. As the bright moonlight spilled down, that faint glow brought Zhang Yuanqing not a shred of warmth in such an environment.

It only made things feel more terrifying.

Rustle.

He kept his guard up as he walked toward the main hall, stepping through the clumps of dry, yellow weeds. In the empty space, his footsteps sounded exceptionally clear.

Rustle, rustle. Suddenly, Zhang Yuanqing's ears twitched. He heard an extra set of footsteps behind him—something was following him.

He whipped his head around.

The night was like water, the weeds grew thick, but there was nothing behind him.

Auditory hallucination?

Zhang Yuanqing stood frozen for a moment, his heart pounding with fear, before he forced his legs to move again.

Rustle, rustle, rustle.

The footsteps returned. This time he heard them clearly; something was definitely following him.

It can't be this sinister, right? Running into something unclean the moment I enter the temple? He didn't dare look back and quickened his pace.

The footsteps behind him accelerated in tandem.

Zhang Yuanqing could no longer hold it together. Goosebumps erupted across his skin as he broke into a frantic sprint, charging toward the main hall.

The footsteps behind him clung to him like a shadow, in hot pursuit.

During the chase, Zhang Yuanqing quickly burst out of the weeds and neared the main hall. He leaped up the six steps in two bounds and finally, with a loud bang, burst through the two latticed doors of the main hall.

The footsteps behind him vanished instantly.

"Huff, huff."

He panted heavily, finally daring to look back. Moonlight spilled like water over the courtyard, the weeds, and the stone path—it was quiet enough to be terrifying, but there was nothing there.

Thank goodness it didn't follow me in.

After catching his breath, Zhang Yuanqing gently closed the doors of the main hall, as if shutting the fear out.

He then scanned the interior of the hall. On a high stone pedestal sat a statue of a goddess draped in a fur cloak and wearing ornate robes. Her face was round, her brows long and slender, exuding a sense of benevolence.

The goddess held a horsetail whisk in one hand, while the other was shaped into a gripping gesture; it seemed she had once held something, but now it was empty.

To her left and right were a boy holding a sword and a maidservant holding a book.

In front of the pedestal was a dusty offering table. On the table sat a candle holder with a candle twenty centimeters long and as thick as an infant's forearm, burning silently.

The candlelight dispelled the darkness and seemed to dispel the fear in Zhang Yuanqing's heart as well; he felt his emotions stabilize significantly.

On the left wall hung two faded, cracked wooden boards, covered in regular script.

Zhang Yuanqing strolled to the wall and peered at them by the dim candlelight. The style of the regular script was Classical Chinese.

His grasp of the language was decent enough that, through a mix of guessing and reading, he gained a clear understanding of his surroundings.

This mountain was called Three Paths Mountain, and the goddess enshrined in the temple was the Mountain Goddess.

This Mountain Goddess was a native of Song Prefecture from the early Ming Dynasty. She had cultivated on Three Paths Mountain in Song Prefecture, was proficient in talismanic arts, understood alchemy, and could pray for rain and exorcise ghosts, blessing the region with favorable weather. Thus, the common people revered her as a deity.

After she ascended, the local government built this temple on Three Paths Mountain, naming it the Temple of the Lady of Three Paths Mountain, and appointed the goddess's successor to manage the incense and serve as the Temple Keeper.

"A temple from the early Ming Dynasty—that's five or six hundred years old," Zhang Yuanqing muttered.

Just then, he inadvertently glanced under the offering table and his heart suddenly chilled.

A dark shadow lay in the gloom beneath the table.

Because he had been too panicked and the candlelight was dim, he hadn't noticed it at first.

Zhang Yuanqing steeled himself and moved closer. Upon closer inspection, it was a skeleton.

Amidst his terror, Zhang Yuanqing felt a sense of relief; compared to this eerie Mountain Goddess temple, a skeleton was far less frightening.

He took a few steps closer and, by the faint candlelight, saw the clothing on the skeleton: a dusty work uniform.

A worker?

"Is this the construction crew from back then? So, I really have entered the world of the urban legend."

Zhang Yuanqing had just made this guess when an even more chilling possibility occurred to him: perhaps the construction crew, just like him, had stumbled into this place by mistake.

That would explain the origin of the urban legend.

If it were the former, this so-called Spirit Realm would be generating scenarios based on urban legends.

But if it were the latter, it would mean the ancient temple had always existed, and the construction crew, like him right now, were all victims.

Based on the historical background of the Mountain God Temple, Zhang Yuanqing leaned toward the latter.

"An entire construction crew died in this temple, with only one survivor. People really die here. Now that I've entered this temple, I could face unknown dangers at any moment."

Hiss~ He drew a sharp breath, his nerves tightening once more as he instinctively scanned his surroundings.

Then, he suddenly realized a detail so terrifying it made him shudder.

This ancient temple dated back to the Ming Dynasty; it had a long history, so how could the candles still be burning? Who was replacing the candles in the main hall?

The more he thought about it, the more horrified he became, and even the benevolent-looking sculpture seemed to exude a strange, sinister aura in the candlelight.

Although the three clay statues were covered in dust, they were lifelike, with every detail carved with vivid realism, especially the eyes.

Standing on their pedestal, they stared down at Zhang Yuanqing from above in the twilight glow of the candles.