The village hidden beneath the valley of garbage exuded an eerie gloom. It seemed forgotten by the world, a gathering place for lost souls and wandering ghosts.
Large white lanterns hung above the doors. The spirit money scattered everywhere and the bowls and chopsticks set out as offerings at the entrances all made one thing clear: this village did not welcome the living.
Squeaks rang out as something resembling a rat scurried across the eaves and disappeared into the black pipes hanging upside down.
A moment later, a villager dressed as a butcher emerged from an old house nearby. Blood and grease covered his clothes, his head trembled involuntarily, and his spine was crooked. One of his legs had been amputated and fitted with a cheap prosthesis.
Noticing the butcher approach, Old Cao and the other two immediately lowered their heads, afraid to meet his gaze. Gao Ming, however, studied him without restraint, as though searching his body for clues.
"A Chong wants you to come over." The butcher's voice was grating, as though razor blades were lodged in his throat. He looked as if he could barely hold a knife steady, yet Gao Ming sensed extreme danger from him, like encountering a ghost in a nightmare.
Walking shakily ahead, the butcher led them through the village. Unnerving sounds kept coming from the seemingly ordinary houses, as though they were cages holding wild beasts that grew agitated whenever someone passed.
Arriving at one side of the Fu family's ancestral hall, the butcher knocked three times on a wooden door and muttered something. The old door opened on its own, and a thick medicinal smell drifted out of the dark chamber.
The butcher stood guard outside and gestured for the others to enter.
Fu Family Village completely overturned Gao Ming's understanding