"Mr. Temple! No matter how hard I pulled on you just now, it was no use. What exactly happened? You were—"
Magong Yongshi looked at Beichuan Si with worry in her eyes, still showing signs of lingering anxiety.
In contrast to her nervousness, Beichuan Si shook his head, "I saw children."
"Children?"
Magong Yongshi was somewhat puzzled.
"Children missing their heads, with blood-stained ground—they kept hopping on one foot and singing nursery rhymes in the dusk, step by step toward the edge of the cliff."
Beichuan Si found the scene terrifying and eerie, but amidst the horror and strangeness, there was also an indescribable sense of tragic beauty.
Eerie yet beautiful.
"Missing heads..." Magong Yongshi's eyes reflected a touch of sorrow as she spoke slowly, "In the legends of Shenzhu Village, the Evil Spirit would devour the heads of children to become more intelligent, right... the nursery rhyme..."