"Begin the sacrifice!"
The white-robed male shaman let out a low shout.
Everyone in the square dropped to their knees in unison.
One after another, their foreheads pressed to the ground and their backs arched, forming a dark mass at a glance.
Even the children who had been darting through the crowd moments ago were held down by the backs of their necks and pressed to the ground by the adults.
Xu Changqing and Zhang Daoxuan stood at the edge of the crowd without kneeling.
The two concealed themselves in the shadows and watched from afar.
The male shaman held a jade-green staff in both hands and began chanting toward the statue.
His voice rose and fell, drawn out in long cadences. The words sounded like some ancient tongue, its syllables low and lingering, making one's head feel heavy after listening for too long.
And after each passage, he bowed once toward the statue.
The armed guards beside him struck the butts of their spears against the ground in unison, letting out a resounding "Hah!"
The rhythm was orderly and flawless.
Before long, a beam of blue watery light shot from the statue's pupils and fell upon the male shaman. At first glance, it was like lake water rolling backward, bright yet not dazzling.
The male shaman's moon-white robes fluttered within the light, as though he were being borne aloft by mist.
Then, the statue's mouth opened.
The mouth that had originally been carved from stone was truly moving now.
A thin wisp of water mist flowed from it, gathering without dispersing and transforming into a water mirror.
The water mirror hung above the statue's head, its surface facing west.
From the distant lake came a sudden burst of drums.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The drumbeats were urgent but steady.
Xu