Chapter 7: The Curse of the Shrine

  The interior of the shrine was icy cold, a musty stench mixed with the smell of decay assaulting their senses, making it almost impossible to breathe. Ji Tian stepped inside, his feet sinking into a thick layer of dust that billowed up in a gray haze. He cautiously surveyed his surroundings. The light was dim, with only a few strands of moonlight filtering through the broken roof, illuminating the mottled walls. Faded yellow talismans hung on the walls, their edges curled, some peeling away to reveal the cracked mud beneath. The cinnabar inscriptions on the talismans were blurred, as if weathered away by time.

  In the center of the shrine sat an ancient statue on an altar. The statue was crudely carved, its face indistinct, and it held a rusted dagger in its hand. The blade was stained with a dark brown substance, like dried blood. The statue's eyes were hollow, two pitch-black voids that seemed to stare straight ahead. Ji Tian felt an inexplicable chill rise from the depths of his heart as soon as he glanced at it.

  He gently laid Zhang Xiaoyue on the ground, propping her against a pillar to rest. Pulling a bottle of water from his backpack, he unscrewed the cap and carefully tilted her head to help her drink a few sips. Water trickled down the corners of her mouth as she swallowed with difficulty, her throat emitting faint rasps. While keeping an eye on her condition, Ji Tian scanned the surroundings, hoping to find some clue in this eerie place. His gaze eventually settled on a stone tablet at the base of the statue.

  The tablet was half-buried in dust, its surface carved with twisted ancient characters, as if someone had forcefully chiseled them in with a knife, leaving behind a crude, violent mark. Ji Tian crouched down, brushing away the dust, and strained to make out a few of the words:

  "Sacrifice... spirit blood... unseal..."

  He frowned, a sense of foreboding rising in his chest. The words were vague and cryptic, yet they carried an ominous undertone, hinting at some kind of ritual. He muttered the words under his breath, his voice echoing hollowly in the shrine.

  "This place... it's not right," Ji Tian whispered, his grip tightening on the baton, his knuckles whitening. He stood up, his eyes darting back to the statue. He couldn't shake the feeling that those hollow eyes were watching him.

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  Zhang Xiaoyue opened her weak eyes, following his gaze to the statue. Her brow furrowed slightly, her voice faint but tinged with unease: "That statue... it feels like it's watching us..." Her eyes were clouded, as if veiled by a mist.

  Ji Tian's heart skipped a beat, but before he could say anything, the statue's eyes suddenly glowed with a faint red light! The glow was small but piercing, like two crimson flames flickering in the darkness.

  "Hum—"

  A low vibration resonated, as if rising from the ground, causing the entire shrine to tremble slightly. The talismans hanging on the walls fluttered without any wind, emitting a rustling sound. The chill in the air deepened abruptly, as if something had been awakened. Ji Tian's breath hitched, and he took a step back, shielding Zhang Xiaoyue behind him, every muscle in his body tensed.

  The next moment, the statue's mouth slowly cracked open, revealing a sinister gap. A hoarse, low voice emerged from it, as if squeezed from the depths of its throat, echoing through the shrine:

  "...Intruders... why have you come..."

  Ji Tian's pupils constricted, cold sweat dripping down his forehead. He stared fixedly at the statue, trying to discern the source of the voice, but it seemed to come from all directions, impossible to locate. The statue... it was alive!

  The red glow grew stronger, like two lanterns swaying in the darkness. The air in the shrine seemed to solidify, and fine cracks began to spread across the walls, as if something inside was struggling to break free. A chorus of whispers filled Ji Tian's ears, indistinct but dripping with malice.

  "You... want a cure?" The statue's voice was low and slow, as if rising from the depths of hell, laced with mockery. "Haha... how laughable... you've already paid the price..."

  "Boom—!"

  The shrine shook violently, a crack splitting the ground, and black mist surged from the fissure, carrying a pungent stench. Ji Tian's vision blurred, the whispers in his ears growing more frenzied, as if trying to burrow into his mind. Suddenly, an unfamiliar scene flashed before his eyes—

  A man's silhouette stood under a blood-red moon, tall but weary. He slowly turned, his voice low and hoarse: "Tian'er... you've finally come..." The man's face was angular, weathered, unmistakably Ji Wenhan! His eyes were filled with complex emotions—guilt, yet also relief.

  Ji Tian's heart lurched, as if struck by a heavy blow. He opened his mouth to call out, but his throat felt blocked, no sound escaping. The vision vanished as quickly as it had appeared, but the black mist in the shrine grew thicker, the statue's red light nearly blinding him. He knew the real nightmare was just beginning...