118: Chapter 118 Heavenly Secrets

Twilight settled, the last lingering ray of sunset devoured by distant mountains. Lead-grey clouds hung low, as if to crush this cursed land.

A wind swept silently across the barren ridges and crooked fences, carrying the damp chill of well water, mixed with the scent of silt and decay.

Chen Zilong, Ye Xishui, and Lu Bingyun stood in a triangular formation, their gazes locked on the ancient well known as the 'Compassionate Mother Well' not far away.

Tu Shan Xiaoxiao clung desperately to Chen Zilong's waist, shivering uncontrollably in his arms.

The stone railing around the well mouth was thick with moss, slick and treacherous, reflecting a faint, unsettling gleam of water in the increasingly dim light.

Chen Zilong's brow was tightly furrowed, forming a deep crease like the character for 'river.' Fine veins pulsed faintly beneath the thin skin at his temples.

His posture was upright, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist—normally a figure of exceptional bearing, but now his tensed muscles rendered him somewhat rigid.

His slender fingers curled unconsciously, and at their tips, a subtle, almost imperceptible arc of the Evil-Warding Divine Thunder flickered and vanished.

Ye Xishui stood slightly behind and to his left. She was tall and slender, her form graceful.

Even in this eerie environment, she habitually maintained an elegant posture.

Yet, her tightly pressed, bloodless lips and the slight trembling of her delicate fingers hanging by her side betrayed the tempest raging within her.

Her eyes, once clear as autumn water, were now filled with bewilderment and disbelief. Her long eyelashes fluttered like startled butterfly wings.

Lu Bingyun stood to Chen Zilong's right. Her beauty carried an icy, snow-like purity, but now that chill seemed fractured by an invisible force.

The flawless white of her face had drained of all color, like fine rice paper.

Her nostrils flared slightly with her rapid breathing.

Her eyes, usually calm and unrippled, now reflected the dark well, churning with fear and vigilance.

Her hands were clasped before her, knuckles white from the strain, clearly fighting the impulse to turn and flee.

"This... this is clearly the Compassionate Mother Well..."

Chen Zilong's voice was parched, carrying a hoarseness he himself hadn't noticed. "The village legend says its water is sweet, nourishing the land, and even saved villagers during a drought."

"With a mother's heart... why... why would there be..."

His words cut off abruptly, his gaze fixed on the well mouth.

They had witnessed it with their own eyes: four Female Corpses, clearly dead for some time, had just emerged from the well, nearly sending them to meet their ancestors.

Their long hair drifted like dense waterweed in the dark currents.

Their pale, bloated faces turned skyward, empty eye sockets seeming to gaze at every onlooker outside the well.

Were they drowned after being pushed into the well?

This thought coiled around the hearts of the four like a venomous serpent.

The soaring resentment had almost solidified, making the surrounding air thick and bone-chilling.

What was more heart-stopping was that Chen Zilong's Evil-Warding Divine Thunder, potent enough to obliterate ordinary evil spirits, struck the Female Corpses.

Yet it only left charred marks, making them shriek in agony, but failed to destroy them completely.

The shrieks were inhuman, more like metal scraping against bone, sharp enough to pierce eardrums and reach the soul's depths.

Just then, Tu Shan Xiaoxiao, who had been burying her face in Chen Zilong's chest, her slender shoulders trembling incessantly, suddenly stirred.

She slowly raised her head, revealing a stunning, tear-streaked face that evoked pity.

Her eyes were red-rimmed, teardrops still clinging to her long lashes like morning dew on delicate petals.

Her figure was willowy; even curled up in fear, one could glimpse its breathtaking curves.

"Se... Senior Brother..."

Her voice was thick with a nasal tone, timid, like a frightened little animal. "Those... those elder sisters... they seem... seem to have left something for us..."

As she spoke, she extended a slightly trembling, small, pale hand and opened her palm.

Resting there was a wooden plaque.

Chen Zilong took a deep breath of the cold, fishy air and forced himself to calm down, reaching out to take it.

The plaque wasn't large, about the size of a palm, rectangular, its edges worn smooth from handling. To the touch, it was unnaturally cold, as if soaked through with well water.

The wood was ordinary, nothing special, but on its surface, written in a dark red pigment resembling dried blood, were two ancient, twisted characters—

"Heavenly Secret."

"Heavenly Secret?"

Chen Zilong murmured the words, his brow furrowing tighter.

What did it mean?

Tianji Village?

Or some kind of hint?

Earlier, during the brief and horrifying confrontation with the four Female Corpses, they seemed to have received a vague yet intensely determined voice.

*Bring her to see us.*

Who was this 'her'?

The one who left the plaque?

Or the person the plaque referred to?

What connection did the 'Heavenly Secret' on this plaque have with that mysterious 'her'?

All clues pointed to this seemingly ordinary yet deeply bizarre village.

Beneath the tranquil surface lay a dark, bottomless vortex.

What kind of manipulative, powerful hand was hidden behind this suffocating strangeness?