Chapter 37: Mourning the Dead

Qing Ling frowned slightly: "What are you trying to say?"

"Literally speaking, this Gujia Village is not the same Gujia Village we visited before," Gao Yang stretched his body. The sunlight was just right, a gentle breeze brushed his face, and the village appeared peaceful and lively, giving him an almost unreal feeling.

"Are you saying there are two Gujia Villages?" Qing Ling was a bit stubborn.

"You could stretch your imagination a bit," Gao Yang, being someone who had experienced time travel, thought more boldly. "Maybe it's like a parallel world, or a time loop that has brought us back to the Gujia Village from 30 years ago."

Qing Ling shook her head: "Your brain really isn't normal."

"Gao Yang!"

The familiar, headache-inducing voice appeared. Gao Yang turned around to see Wang Zikai running toward him from the small dirt path between the pond and vegetable garden, with Officer Huang and Fat Jun following him.

Wang Zikai approached and put his arm around Gao Yang's shoulder: "I knew you wouldn't just kick the bucket!"

"Where did you guys go?" Gao Yang asked.

"We ended up in the small woods," Officer Huang said, looking around. He quickly noticed the stone tablet at the village entrance and furrowed his brow. "Things just got complicated."

Gao Yang briefly explained his thoughts to Officer Huang. After listening carefully, Officer Huang pondered for a moment and then made a decision: "Wang Zikai, Fat Jun, you two take Qing Ling and try a different direction. Gao Yang, follow me to the small woods. I need to show you something."

"Okay." Gao Yang wasn't sure what Officer Huang was up to, but followed him.

Soon, Officer Huang and Gao Yang arrived at the small woods. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled patterns on them, flickering in and out. There was supposed to be a breeze, but halfway through, it stopped.

Officer Huang paused. "We're here."

Gao Yang looked ahead. If they walked another twenty meters, they would exit the woods and reach the rural cement road that led to the town.

"I remember the police car was parked by the road, but it's gone now. This is definitely not the same Gujia Village as before," Gao Yang said.

"It's more than that," Officer Huang pointed to the woods exit. "Walk ahead."

Gao Yang stepped forward and immediately felt something strange.

The air around him grew heavy, and the gravity under his feet became odd. He continued walking, unable to believe his eyes. The woods, which should only take ten seconds to walk out of, still seemed to keep the exit about twenty meters away, like a "horizon" that you could never reach, no matter how much you walked.

Though it was broad daylight, Gao Yang felt a chill run down his spine. His hair stood on end. He took a deep breath and tried to speed up, running for a while.

No use!

He was still about twenty meters from the exit of the small woods. He turned around, and Officer Huang was still behind him, as if he had been following the whole time.

"You..."

"I swear I haven't moved an inch," Officer Huang said.

"Then do you think I've moved?" Gao Yang asked.

"You have moved... but how do I put this?" Officer Huang clicked his tongue and tried to explain with professional terminology: "You know perspective, right? Like in painting or photography."

Gao Yang nodded.

"In my eyes, the perspective between you and the scene ahead is chaotic. You're clearly walking forward, but in the blink of an eye, it seems like you haven't moved at all..."

Gao Yang walked back and easily returned to Officer Huang's side, his face full of confusion. "Why is this happening?"

"I don't know," Officer Huang replied. "If it weren't for Fat Jun making such a fuss about wanting to leave, we wouldn't have discovered this 'magical barrier.'"

A few minutes later, Officer Huang and Gao Yang returned to the village entrance. Soon, Wang Zikai returned from the west side of the village with Fat Jun and Qing Ling.

"How's it going?" Officer Huang asked.

"We can't get out. Damn, this is ridiculous!" Wang Zikai said with enthusiasm, showing no sign of fear.

"We found a river outside the village, but no matter what we did, we couldn't cross it," Fat Jun said listlessly, his face ashen. "Officer Huang, we're probably dealing with a ghost wall."

As an atheist, Officer Huang kept his opinions to himself.

"I want to leave this place," Qing Ling said, clearly frustrated with things she couldn't understand or control.

"How do we get out? The ghost wall won't let us through. We're doomed..." Fat Jun became increasingly pessimistic. "I told you we should have gone back, but you all didn't listen."

"Chicken!" Wang Zikai sneered. "Who cares what it is, if gods block the way, kill the gods, if Buddhas block the way, kill the Buddhas!"

"It's fine," Gao Yang reassured. "As long as it's a space, there has to be an exit. The exit is a door. If we find the key, we can open it."

"Exactly," Officer Huang agreed, encouraging them. "Everyone, don't panic. Maybe this is a test from the organization."

Gao Yang didn't believe the Zodiac organization would go through all this trouble to create a place just to test them, but he didn't say anything.

"So... what do we do now?" Fat Jun asked, uneasy.

"Since we're here, let's accept it." Gao Yang looked up toward the ancestral hall on the hill. "Let's go mourn."

"Let's go!" Wang Zikai agreed immediately.

Qing Ling and Officer Huang had no objections, and Fat Jun hesitated for a moment but nodded.

The group prepared briefly and walked up the village road toward higher ground, soon arriving at a large tent set up outside the ancestral hall for mourning.

There was a table outside the tent with two men sitting behind it. One was a slim young man dressed in a very literary style, sitting behind the table, wearing old-fashioned black-rimmed glasses, a white shirt from the 1980s, a white flower pinned to his chest, and holding a brush to write names in a book of condolences.

"Gu Gui Lun, five dollars. Gu Xian Fang, ten dollars. Gu Ming Xue, six dollars," the literary young man read aloud. Beside him sat an elderly man with vitiligo on one side of his face, tearing open a white envelope and reading names aloud.

The old man looked up and glanced at the group. "Are you... friends of Hua Zi?"

Officer Huang had planned to pretend they were friends come to mourn, but when he saw that the money on the table was all old bills from thirty years ago, he thought it would be inappropriate to take out new money from his wallet.

Instead, he took out his police badge confidently. "We're from the Shanqing District Police Station, here to investigate a case."

"Didn't you all come here several times already? And now we're holding a funeral. Can't we let people rest in peace?" The old man with vitiligo grumbled but kept his tone civil when facing the police.

"Uncle Wu, as long as this case remains unsolved, no one will be at ease. It's good that the police are so concerned," the young man stood up, put down his brush, and reached out to Officer Huang. "Hello, hello, I'm Gu Xian Zhi. Just call me Ah Zhi. If there's anything you need to cooperate with, feel free to ask."

"Okay." Officer Huang nodded. "May I go inside and offer incense? Is that alright?"

"Of course, no problem," Ah Zhi smiled warmly, then looked at Gao Yang and the others. "Who are these?"

Officer Huang quickly explained, "Oh, they just graduated from the police academy and are interning at the station. I brought them along to see, as they're young and full of ideas. They might be helpful in solving the case."

"Understood, understood." Ah Zhi stood up, handed Officer Huang a cigarette, and led the five of them into the shed. "Fan Sao, bring five cups of tea."