Anyone could see Squire Zhao's frenzy. He knocked over the talisman water he had once treasured, grabbed the wife who had been beside him for years, and headed into his courtyard.
The others were about to hurry after them when they heard Squire Zhao shout:
"None of you follow me! I have something to say to my wife alone!"
His wife had been with him for years. Though they could hardly be called a couple who raised the tray to their brows in mutual respect, they still shared considerable affection from the past. There was little panic in her eyes, and she cooperatively told the others not to follow.
Without a word, Squire Zhao walked a full circuit of the courtyard, his body trembling, before finally choosing the room that housed the ancestral tablets.
The door closed in silence, beneath the glow of red candles that burned day and night.
Squire Zhao looked at his wife, his face pale. Tears immediately streamed down his cheeks as he leaned close to her ear and lowered his voice:
"L-last night, the Zijun God used a spell to summon me."
His wife's gaze filled with shock. That ought to have been a good thing, so why did he look like this?
Squire Zhao continued in a hushed voice:
"N-not just me... it was the talisman water... there's something wrong with the talisman water."
"The Zijun God can control people who drink it, drawing them away as though into a dream."
"I was fortunate enough to wake up at the last moment."
Squire Zhao's bloodshot eyes opened wide, and terror once again crawled over his face. Trembling, he recalled the scenes he had witnessed and recounted them:
"In the dead of night, beneath a towering locust tree, the moonlight was bright as day. I...