The Ritual

A thick, black mist descended upon the inn, morphing into a humanoid shape. Cloaked entirely in black, only its glittering eyes shone through the hood. Under its arm, it carried an unconscious Bai Susu. Turning to the innkeeper, the figure said softly, "The ritual can begin."

The innkeeper's expression shifted from apathy to faint enthusiasm, as if he had something to say.

The shadowy figure waved dismissively. "No need to worry. I'll handle it all soon enough."

With that, the figure dissolved back into mist, enveloping Bai Susu as they vanished toward the ancient well.

The innkeeper nodded, grabbed a bronze gong, and headed outside. Walking into the village, he struck the gong three times and announced, "The Dragon God descends! Blessings to all! Gather at the ancient well—the ritual begins now!"

Windows creaked open, and doors swung ajar as villagers stirred from their slumber. One by one, they stepped into the streets, each carrying a bucket. Excitement was etched on their faces as they moved toward the well, relaying the call, "The Dragon God descends! Blessings to all! Gather at the ancient well—the ritual begins!"

One man, rushing in his excitement, tripped over a stone and tumbled to the ground. His fall elicited laughter. "Li Laowu, you're so eager! Watch out, or you'll break a leg!" someone joked.

Li Laowu scrambled up, unbothered, and picked up his pace. "Who knows how much water the Dragon God will grant us this time? Laugh all you want, Xie Laoliu, but if you miss your chance, we'll see who's laughing then!"

Xie Laoliu stopped laughing and clutched his bucket tightly, hurrying to catch up.

Meanwhile, Du Chunfeng returned to the inn, puzzled by the commotion. Seeing the villagers hastily carrying buckets, he decided to follow them.

As he intercepted Li Laowu, he asked, "Brother, where are you all headed in such a rush?"

Li Laowu brushed past without even glancing at him. "To the ritual for water, of course! If you're late, there'll be none left."

Left without an answer, Du Chunfeng tried stopping another villager. "A ritual? What kind of ritual?" he inquired.

"An outsider?" the villager muttered warily, dodging him and walking away.

Each person he approached avoided his questions, their faces guarded. However, from the fragments of their conversations, Du Chunfeng discerned the villagers' chant: "The Dragon God descends! Blessings to all! The ritual begins!"

The so-called ancient well was no mere well—it was a mountain with its opening perched at the summit. Wooden staircases spiraled up the mountain, allowing villagers to ascend in an orderly line. At the top was a small platform about five feet square, with a wooden pulley system for drawing water.

The platform had been transformed into an altar. Banners stretched down the mountain, flanking the staircase. The left banner read, "Heaven and Earth Unite, Devouring the Wilds," while the right read, "Stars Turn, Rivers Surge." A red carpet lined the path to the altar, and despite the village's evident poverty, the grandeur of the preparations was remarkable.

The innkeeper, now dressed in ceremonial robes with black as the base and red trim, stood near a massive bronze gong. His head was wrapped in white cloth, marking him as the village chief.

At the altar, a grand priest in crimson robes stood, his presence imposing. He was the same shadowy figure who had lured Bai Xinyu underground and abducted Bai Susu. Six attendants, dressed in costumes resembling shrimp soldiers and crab generals, flanked him in two orderly rows.

Drummers took their positions around the altar, and the villagers assembled in a neat formation, placing their buckets beside them. Their faces were devout as they looked toward the platform.

"Commence the Dragon God ritual!" the grand priest bellowed.

The innkeeper struck the gong three times. The villagers erupted into a chant, "Commence the Dragon God ritual!"

Ascending the altar, the priest raised his arms dramatically. "Bring forth the offerings!" he commanded.

Six booming drumbeats followed as the attendants stepped back, bringing out three bound captives—Bai Susu, a swordsman, and a portly monk. Suspended above the well, their fates seemed sealed.

As the crowd chanted fervently, chaos erupted. A white blur tore through the crowd, knocking aside anyone in its path. Cries of pain and anger followed, but the figure was relentless.

"Demon! It's a demon!" someone shrieked.

The white blur leapt onto the altar. Bai Xinyu's voice rang out, her fiery essence blazing as she faced the grand priest.

The confrontation had just begun, but the air was thick with tension, and the ancient well groaned ominously beneath them...