Chapter 50: River of Blood

Outside the ancestral hall, Zhang Licai dropped the wooden bucket as if it were a venomous snake, hastily turning and jogging away to put distance between himself and the grim scene behind him.

Ever since that morning, the ancestral hall had filled him with a creeping unease, a feeling of countless vicious eyes watching him from the shadows. He never would have made a second trip here if he wasn't terrified of what the night would bring—a time when all manner of spirits were said to roam free.

Zhou Yilin, however, didn't seem particularly frightened. She simply followed along with small, compliant steps, consistently keeping a careful two paces behind Zhang Licai—close, yet not too close.

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