The day has arrived.

The road leading out of the village was swarming with rats.

All sizes of rats were scurrying toward the outskirts, sending chills down everyone’s spines.

This sudden development drove all the villagers out of their homes, faces etched with panic, clueless as to why the rats were fleeing. And it wasn’t just the rats—every household’s dogs had started barking madly, and the chickens, ducks, cattle, and sheep were all making a ruckus, their alarm clear in their cries.

The whole village, while outwardly unchanged, had descended into chaos.

Animals are more sensitive to danger than people. The uncles from the neighboring houses came to my door, asking if an earthquake was coming.

Many have heard that animals act agitated and frightened before an earthquake. But I knew that the disturbance in our village wasn’t because an earthquake was coming.

It was obvious—Old Qin had begun to act.

If Xu the Undying was out of the picture, it meant what he’d discovered earlier was true: to open the treasure, villagers had to be sacrificed. Now that he’d started, the animals sensed the danger and tried to escape.

“Maybe,” I replied, “but something’s definitely wrong. I think it’s safer if everyone leaves the village and stays outside for a while.”

Even though I knew the real reason, I couldn’t say it. I used the earthquake as an excuse, hoping to get everyone out before the sacrifices began in earnest.

“If it’s just an earthquake, there’s no need to leave, right?” Brother Zuo from next door didn’t seem eager to go. I turned to the back mountain and said, “It’s only safe if we leave. Look at the back mountain—it’s too steep, and most of the trees have been cut, the earth is loose. If an earthquake hits, there’ll be a landslide. If that happens, the village will be buried. Better safe than sorry.”

Everyone knew stories of villages buried by landslides; Brother Zuo nodded and said he’d take his family and leave for a couple of days.

Soon, the villagers began to pack up their valuables, preparing to leave. My mother asked if I wanted to go. I shook my head.

The trouble wasn’t caused by an earthquake—there was no need for me to run.

“They won’t be able to leave,” Xu the Undying said, stepping outside and gazing at the sky, where dark clouds were gathering. His expression was grim.

“Why not? Nothing’s started yet. Why can’t they leave?” I asked.

“Do you think he’ll let the villagers go? After all these years living here, do you really think he just enjoyed the peaceful life?” With that, Xu the Undying headed for the back mountain, and the rest of us hurried after him.

As we walked, he continued, “If I’m not mistaken, there should be mist forming outside the village by now. Once the mist rises, no one will be able to get out.”

Before handing over the bronze key, I’d thought Old Qin wouldn’t act so quickly, that we’d still have time to stop him. I hadn’t expected him to move so fast—he’d only gotten the key last night.

Plans are always outpaced by change.

I knew this day would come, but I hadn’t expected it so soon.

Remembering Xu the Undying’s injury, I asked, “You went to find Old Qin last night to get the bronze key back, didn’t you?”

He nodded. “That old fox isn’t simple. He’s raised a lot of things. I killed several, but he got away with the key. Looks like he’s desperate.”

The back mountain wasn’t far; as we reached the hilltop, we could see, just as Xu the Undying had said, a thin layer of mist already rising in the mountain valleys.

Looking around, the mist formed a circle, shrouding the village.

It wouldn’t be long before it completely blocked the road out.

“If everyone tries to leave right now, can they make it?” I asked anxiously. The mist was still thin. If Xu the Undying said it was possible, I’d go down at once and tell everyone to drop everything and run for their lives.

“I already said, he hasn’t been idle all these years. The mist is just one part. He’s probably set up an array around the village. No matter which way you go, you’ll end up back in the village.”

It was like being trapped in a ghostly maze.

I remembered the night my grandmother died, how I’d walked in circles no matter which way I turned. I didn’t doubt Xu the Undying’s words; if he said so, it must be true.

“Is there really such a thing?” Cao Guangshan sounded skeptical.

Xu the Undying gave a wry smile. “Check your phone. I bet you don’t have signal anymore.”

Cao Guangshan quickly pulled out his phone, his face falling as he saw the lack of signal. Once again, Xu the Undying was right.

“Let’s go back down. This is just the beginning. The real ritual will start in two days, I think.”

When the real sacrifice began, people would die.

At least no one would die tonight, and I felt a little relieved.

Down in the village, Shitou wanted to test whether we could really not get out. I was curious too, so we set off toward the edge of the village.

Xu the Undying didn’t come with us—he headed for his home.

We left by the main road, watching for any changes. At first, the road seemed the same as always. I started to doubt Xu the Undying’s judgment—maybe we really could get out. I quickened my pace, eager to test it.

But soon enough, despair set in.

We had left by the main road but ended up back at the foot of the back mountain, the whole village laid out before us.

We stood there in silence, chilled to the bone.

“How the hell is this possible?” Shitou and the others were visibly shaken.

Leaving by the main road only to end up at the back mountain—how could this be?

After some thought, I realized what it must be: a Qimen Dunjia formation.

The profound mysteries of Qimen Dunjia are beyond ordinary comprehension. Old Qin, in all his years here, had appeared to live a normal life, but had secretly been laying out the formation around the village.

He must have known long ago that opening the treasure would require sacrificing many living people. So he prepared in advance, ensuring that if something happened, the villagers wouldn’t be able to escape.

When I shared my guess, Cao Guangshan said, “If it’s manmade, can’t we break it? Wouldn’t that solve the problem?”

It was a reasonable thought for someone who didn’t understand Qimen Dunjia.

But the ghostly maze that left me desperate was nothing compared to Qimen Dunjia. The ordinary maze only appears at night; this one worked even in broad daylight. We’d left by the main road and returned to the back mountain without anything around us changing—a testament to its power.

Qimen Dunjia was created and set by humans, and it can be broken—but that takes time. Hours, days, maybe even months.

Given how long Old Qin had been working and his hidden skills, I doubted even Xu the Undying or my grandmother could break the formation within three days.

Xu the Undying must have realized there was no way to break the barrier in time—so he hadn’t tried to stop Old Qin that way.

Back home, we’d barely stepped inside when Xu the Undying handed each of us a yellow talisman, inside which was wrapped a pinch of black powder with a strange scent.

“Swallow it. Don’t spit it out.”

“What is this, old man?” Fatty asked with a frown, unwilling to swallow something unknown.

“Quit the questions. It’s for saving your lives. If you don’t want to be sacrificed, eat it.”

Seeing Xu the Undying wasn’t joking, I led by example, stuffing the talisman into my mouth and washing it down with water. The others, seeing this, followed suit without complaint.

I didn’t ask what the powder was or how it would save us. If Xu the Undying had prepared it, he must have a plan.

Too much curiosity is rarely a good thing.

After a while, nothing happened, and the others stopped worrying about it. I walked over to Xu the Undying, who was drawing talismans, wanting to tell him my grandmother wasn’t dead.

He couldn’t be interrupted while drawing, so I waited quietly. After finishing a talisman, he turned and asked what was on my mind.

I steadied myself and said, “My grandmother isn’t dead.”

“I know,” Xu the Undying replied calmly.

I couldn’t help but ask, “If you knew, why did you go looking for her before?”

I couldn’t understand—if he knew she wasn’t dead, why did he take me to the old house to look for her?

He smiled. “Ziwu, did you know you’re a terrible actor?”

I was stunned.

“At first, I really didn’t know she’d faked her death. But when we went to the old house together, did you think I didn’t know what you were up to?”

Back then, I’d had a knife in my pocket, ready to use on Xu the Undying. I felt embarrassed, unable to meet his eyes.

“You thought I didn’t notice the setup in that room? I just pretended not to see it, so you wouldn’t stab me.”

Once again, I realized how much more cunning and experienced Xu the Undying was. I could never outplay him.

But now that I’d confessed, I felt relieved.

With Old Qin already making his move, I wondered if my grandmother had woken up. I hurried to the old house, skillfully making my way to the hidden chamber.

The lamps around the coffin were out. My heart leapt as I rushed to check on my grandmother.

One look, and it felt as if someone had smashed me in the head—I nearly collapsed.

“It must be my eyes playing tricks,” I told myself, rubbing them hard.

But nothing changed.

“This must be an illusion,” I thought, pinching myself, refusing to believe my grandmother could have ended up like this.

But no matter how I struggled, the truth remained: she was gone from the coffin, leaving behind only a skeleton dressed in her clothes.