The night was silent, and the evening's ceremony passed smoothly, without a ripple.
Utterly exhausted, Zhou Ping pushed open the door to his somewhat dilapidated home.
The room was simply laid out, with no unnecessary furniture: a bed, a table, and a water vat.
Zhou Ping went straight to the vat, scooped up a jug of water, and gulped down several mouthfuls before he managed to suppress his unease.
Mad. They had all gone mad. The whole of Zhou Mountain Village had gone mad!
Ever since that strange divine decree had descended, everything had gone mad.
It had begun when the dying Ancestor Zhou was inexplicably about to become a god, when every wish had become something that might be fulfilled through prayer.
The whole of Zhou Mountain Village had gone mad.
Praying took only a few sticks of incense, but working the fields meant toiling under the sun.
Not only was the effort involved incomparable, but the rewards were worlds apart.
When a hundred years of harvests might not equal the gold and silver gained from a single granted wish, everything would change.
Although most of the time, only a tiny handful had their prayers answered, everyone believed they would be the next lucky one.
Anyone would want enormous rewards without having to give anything.
Profit had blinded their eyes.
Everyone had tacitly forgotten one thing-what was the price?
At that moment, Zhou Ping was like a lone boat on the open sea. When everyone else was crazed, the calmest person was the one considered sick.
He could not speak up, because no one would believe him.
Most terrifying of all, he had discovered that he could not escape either.
Zhou Ping had discovered that he could no longer leave the area around Zhou Mountain Village.
No matter how