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墨書 Inktalez
Zhou Mazi secretly felt pleased as he watched Second scold the Innkeeper so harshly.
Second continued, "Forget it, I can't be bothered to waste my breath on you." The Innkeeper, thinking Second was about to take action, stammered in fear, "Please, spare me!"
Second retorted, "What nonsense are you babbling, you fat fool? I'm not going to kill you."
Hearing this, the Innkeeper felt a weight lift off his shoulders and wiped the cold sweat from his brow. He quickly expressed his gratitude but thought to himself that he never expected to encounter such a tough situation; he could only accept it.
Seven then asked, "What should we do with these people?" His words came out easily, but they sent shivers down the spines of those present.
After a moment, Third spoke up, "I have no grievances with any of you in the past or present. I don't want to make things difficult for you! Let's leave it at that; you can go now."
As soon as Third finished speaking, he put away his weapon, and Zhou Mazi's group quickly dispersed. They had managed to save their lives.
The Innkeeper stood there in a daze. Second shouted, "Aren't you leaving yet?" The Innkeeper, with a pained expression, replied, "This is my establishment; where am I supposed to go?"
Only then did Second realize and say, "That's true! Well then, since you can't leave, get us a table full of good food and drinks."
The Innkeeper felt as if he had been granted a reprieve and hurriedly instructed his staff to prepare the food and drinks, no longer daring to play any tricks.
The four of them were naturally wide awake now. Second's suggestion was quite welcome! They would have this meal before setting off.
Third sat at the table with a pile of firearms stacked beneath it—more than a dozen in total.
He took out the Ancient Script he had copied from the marshlands and glanced at it. The sharp-eyed Innkeeper happened to bring over some wine and was startled when he saw the manuscript in Third's hands but dared not say anything.
After putting down the wine, he stepped back, but the more he thought about it, the more uneasy he felt. Seizing the opportunity while delivering vegetables, he approached again. Wang Er Gou was explaining Feng Shui to Seven.
Seven listened intently, and Second was also intrigued.
The Innkeeper came closer and placed a plate down, saying to Third, "That place is off-limits." The abruptness of his words puzzled everyone.
Second asked, "Hey, what are you rambling about? What place can't we go to?"
The Innkeeper pointed at Third and said, "Wasn't that brother just looking at those symbols?"
"What symbols?" Seven inquired. Third showed the sketch he had copied to the Innkeeper and asked, "Is it this?"
The Innkeeper nodded in affirmation. Third continued to probe, "Have you seen this before?"
The Innkeeper adjusted the flesh on his face and replied seriously, "That place isn't far from here, just about eight or nine miles away." It was an ancient temple. There were indeed strange symbols in that temple, and it was also haunted; just thinking about it now sent chills down his spine.
The Innkeeper spoke earnestly, not as if he were joking. Wang Er Gou asked, "Have you seen it being haunted with your own eyes?"
The Innkeeper chuckled nervously and said, "I don't have the courage for that; it's all hearsay. But brothers, you really shouldn't take this lightly. Better to believe it exists than to dismiss it."
Second shouted, "Who said we were going there? Stop meddling in our business."
The Innkeeper fell silent, preparing to leave.
However, Third politely called out to the Innkeeper and asked, "Innkeeper, do you know the exact location of that ancient temple?"
"I know that route well; I’ve been transporting goods through there for years, but I’ve never dared to go in. I only saw those symbols by chance!" the Innkeeper replied.
Wang Er Gou seemed to sense Third's thoughts and added, "Innkeeper, could you lead us there?"
Upon hearing this, the Innkeeper regretted bringing it up. Noticing the Innkeeper's troubled expression, Wang Er Gou said, "If it's inconvenient for you, we won't press the matter."
The Innkeeper sighed in relief but didn't want to completely dismiss them. "I'm not very familiar with that route either; my son, Dazhu, usually handles the deliveries." The Innkeeper called out loudly, "Dazhu!"
Soon, a young man of about seventeen or eighteen came running over. His face was pale and thin, likely due to malnutrition.
Upon hearing his father’s request, Dazhu immediately showed reluctance; it felt like being sent to his doom—who would be eager for such a task?
Third observed everything and said, "As long as Brother Dazhu takes us to the entrance of the ancient temple, that will suffice. There will be a reward."
Hearing about a reward piqued Dazhu's interest. "How much is the reward?" he asked.
"Fifty silver coins," Second chimed in. As soon as he spoke, even the Innkeeper was taken aback. Damn it, if I had known there was that much reward, I would have led them myself.
Dazhu was equally excited and asked, "Really fifty?"
"I never lie," Seven replied.
"Alright then, I'll do it! Once this job is done, I can finally get myself a wife."
Everyone burst into laughter at his words, except for the Innkeeper, whose expression darkened. Fifty silver coins could be considered half a year's profit for his inn.
"Let's set off as soon as dawn breaks," said Third. The information recorded in the Ancient Script was too important for Third.
After finishing their meal and having a few drinks, they heard the crowing of roosters. The group prepared to leave, and as they did, Third tossed ten silver coins to the innkeeper, saying, "This is your reward for providing the information."
Third usually regarded money lightly, but he understood its importance; without offering some payment, he feared unforeseen troubles might arise.
The innkeeper nodded gratefully as he wrote down Third's name, feeling somewhat balanced in his heart.
As they stepped out of the inn, the other three mounted their horses, and then Waiter climbed onto the back of Third's horse. The five of them set off toward the ancient temple, following Waiter's directions, and their journey went smoothly.
On the way, Waiter shared a strange tale about the ancient temple.
When this temple existed, he had not yet been born. He had heard from his ancestors that it had been there long before they were born, and tracing back further yielded the same answer.
Thus, the history of this temple's existence was impossible to trace. There was a time when it thrived with worshippers. However, now it lay in ruins.
"So how did it fall into decline?" one of them asked.
Waiter imitated a storyteller and replied, "Don't rush me; let me tell you the tale."
The others didn’t interrupt. Waiter continued: many years ago, a fortune teller came to this place—probably from my grandfather's generation—before I was born. After the fortune teller arrived, he wandered the streets every day with a signboard. However, when people sought his fortune-telling services, he would always refuse.
He would mutter repeatedly, "A great disaster is coming; predicting one person's fate is useless; it's better not to predict at all." After saying this, he would continue wandering through the streets. This message spread quickly; soon everyone in the border town knew about it. Even children began to chant rhymes about it. Before long, panic gripped the entire town while the fortune teller remained oblivious to the chaos around him, continuing his wandering.
Eventually, the local Yamen apprehended the fortune teller for spreading alarming words that incited fear among the people. Once imprisoned, he did not resist; instead, he sat in his cell day after day muttering, "A great disaster is coming; nothing will grow here."
At that time, my grandfather was a jailer, spending his days listening to the ramblings of a fortune teller. Gradually, the news from outside faded away, and people, as explained by the Yamen, came to believe that the fortune teller was mad. Life returned to its usual peaceful routine.
However, the waiter’s grandfather always felt that something was amiss. One day, when no one was around, he approached the cell where the fortune teller was held and asked, “Sir, are your words true?”
The fortune teller had been locked up for over a month, looking disheveled with bloodshot eyes and deepening wrinkles on his face. After talking to himself for a month, his voice had become hoarse. He asked, “Are you speaking to me?”
My grandfather respectfully replied, “Yes, sir.”
In a low, hoarse voice filled with sorrow, the fortune teller said, “Go prepare a clean set of clothes, a delicious meal, and a good bottle of wine.” After saying this, he fell silent.
Risking punishment, my grandfather gathered everything the fortune teller requested. The fortune teller first changed into the clean clothes and tidied his hair, looking much more spirited. After taking a sip of wine, he remarked, “This is truly good wine; it would be enough to die for.”
Hearing him mention death repeatedly made my grandfather feel increasingly uneasy. He asked, “Please guide me, sir.” The fortune teller ignored him and continued to drink and eat. My grandfather waited anxiously but didn’t dare to urge him.
Finally, after finishing his meal and wiping his mouth, the fortune teller said, “On the hill of this small town stands a dilapidated ancient temple. Go there to avoid this disaster; do not tell anyone else.”
My grandfather inquired, “When will this disaster occur?” The fortune teller replied, “Tonight at midnight.” Upon hearing this, my grandfather attempted to unlock the cell and free him.
However, the fortune teller refused help and said, “The secret has been revealed; my time is near. There is no need to save me.”
My grandfather was a kind-hearted man and insisted on rescuing the fortune teller. But in the end, the fortune teller said, “To save me would only hasten my death. Do not worry about my life or death; I have my own way to survive.”
Hearing this, my grandfather had no choice but to give up. In the end, he left the cell unlocked.
He hurried back home and called for my grandmother to pack their things. With his family in tow, they rushed into the mountains to seek refuge. When neighbors asked where they were going...
My grandfather was kind-hearted, so he informed them of the news. They all did not believe him. That night, he hurried to the ancient temple and took a rest.
My grandmother was still complaining about my grandfather's blind faith in that old man's words, making a fool of themselves. Just then, a bright red light appeared on a mountain peak to the south of the town, a very intense red. It was a volcanic eruption, but at that time, no one spoke of an eruption. Everyone thought it was the gods expressing their anger and vented their resentment towards them.
After this disaster, the town no longer existed, and only a few people survived. The ancient temple on that mountain remained unharmed, as if the lava had deliberately avoided it.
Later, my grandfather began to lead the worship of the deities in the temple, but many people still did not believe. After this disaster, a drought occurred. It did not rain for several months; not a single drop fell, truly fulfilling the fortune teller's words—nothing could grow.
However, something strange happened: a spring emerged in the ancient temple during that time. Water flowed endlessly from it.
Many people in the town relied on this spring to survive and began to worship the deities in the ancient temple. During this period, offerings flourished, and more and more believers came. Strangely enough, it eventually rained heavily. At first, everyone believed it was the deities showing their power.
But unexpectedly, the rain became relentless; once it started, it did not stop for an entire month, causing flooding in the town.
The townspeople all moved away, but my grandfather refused to leave. In fact, when the volcanic disaster occurred, my grandfather had gone down to search for the fortune teller's body. He could find traces of other dead in the town, but not that of the fortune teller.
After searching carefully without finding any clues, my grandfather speculated that he might still be alive and felt relieved about it.
When the floods occurred years later, people gradually moved away in small groups. My father left as well, but my grandfather remained steadfastly unwilling to leave!
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