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墨書 Inktalez
The ancient temple was on fire. At first, a few people were oblivious to it, too focused on their tasks until thick smoke began to seep in, prompting them to realize the danger.
"There's smoke!" one shouted, immediately rushing outside. However, a wall of flames had already formed a barrier, blocking the way. The choking smoke made them cough incessantly, and they could barely open their eyes. Through the haze, they vaguely saw someone standing at the entrance with a torch.
The beams above creaked ominously, indicating an imminent collapse.
At that moment, they couldn't care less about who had started the fire. They hurried back inside, shouting, "This is bad! The temple is on fire!"
Seven and Wang Er Gou quickly reacted. Seven yelled to Third, "Third! The temple is on fire!"
Third seemed not to hear, continuing to sketch against the wall.
When Second reached the main hall, he exclaimed, "The front beams have collapsed! We can't get out, and the fire is spreading rapidly!"
"I suggest we wait for the temple to collapse and create an opening for us to escape!" he added.
Seven responded, "Right now, we need to find a safe spot to avoid being hit by falling debris. The smoke is getting thicker; it's hard to tell what's human and what's smoke."
They were all struggling to breathe as the smoke engulfed them. Wang Er Gou suddenly ran off, stripped off his clothes, tore them into strips, soaked them in water, and returned to hand them out for everyone to cover their mouths and noses. Third casually took one and continued sketching.
Wang Er Gou pointed toward the Altar, risking suffocation as he said, "Let's hide under the Altar; it's safer there."
Second patted Third on the shoulder, signaling him to move toward the Altar.
Third didn't turn around but kept drawing. Unfazed by the chaos around him, he calmly said, "I'm almost done."
By this time, the flames had spread into the main hall. The beams and wooden pillars outside had begun to collapse. The situation was becoming increasingly dire.
Second was just about to knock out Third, as life was more important than uncovering secrets!
As Second prepared to make a move, Third spoke in a low voice, "Alright!" Then one hand touched the wall, and a strange phenomenon occurred—his hand sank into the wall, completely unharmed!
To Second's astonishment, Third's entire body followed, sinking into the wall before emerging again. He shouted to the others, "Hurry up and come over here."
After saying this, Third was the first to enter. At that moment, the fire had already spiraled out of control; the ancient temple had been reduced to ruins.
Second followed Third into the wall in disbelief, with Wang Er Gou and Seven trailing behind. Just like that, four living people vanished into the wall.
The fire crackled loudly as the entire ancient temple was destroyed.
Meanwhile, Waiter, who was watching horses at the foot of the mountain, saw thick smoke rising from above and realized that the ancient temple was on fire. This mountain was desolate and devoid of tall trees, so such dense black smoke could only mean that the temple had been burned down!
This area had no residents for miles around. Waiter was anxious but hesitant to approach due to the legends surrounding the temple! He felt like an ant on a hot pan, unsure of what to do!
His employers were all good people! He couldn't bear to stand by and do nothing!
Suddenly, he remembered that his grandfather lived nearby and hurried toward the old man's residence!
The old man's house wasn't far away—just about one or two miles. Waiter ran at full speed without stopping, taking only about five minutes.
Soon, a solitary thatched cottage came into view, its tall and thin straw appearing isolated and desolate, adding a touch of melancholy.
At this moment, Waiter couldn't care less about anything else; saving people was like putting out a fire! He rushed in without hesitation.
Inside, there was only a simple bed and a modest table with three legs. There was also a rack for bowls and chopsticks with one bowl and a pair of chopsticks! Other than that, there was nothing else—everything was basically in plain sight.
But the old man was nowhere to be seen.
The waiter anxiously called out for his grandfather.
However, there was no response for a long time. Suddenly, someone patted the waiter on the shoulder from behind! The voice, slightly aged, said, "What are you shouting about? I'm not dead yet!"
The waiter had no mood for jokes with the old man and gasped, "The ancient temple on the mountain is on fire, and there are people trapped inside!"
Upon hearing this, the old man immediately straightened his face and said sternly, "How many times have I told you? You must not get involved in matters concerning the ancient temple!"
The waiter wanted to speak up, "But..."
"But what?" The old man interrupted him immediately.
The waiter felt anxious but was rejected when seeking help. He thought of running off to find a solution himself! Just as he started to move, the old man scolded, "You’re not going anywhere; stay here!"
The old man still commanded respect! The waiter hesitated and didn’t dare to move his feet. He stood there, turning around with a distressed expression, "But are we really going to just watch them die? Grandpa."
The old man's expression softened, and his tone became much calmer. "Come on, it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other. Sit down and play a game of chess with me."
"Let’s see if your chess skills have improved over the years."
The waiter wore a troubled look and glanced back at the location of the ancient temple, thinking that if he went now, it would probably be too late. He sighed.
With his head down, he walked in front of the old man.
Though now in his seventies, the old man still appeared robust. He had a square face with a typical stern expression; even when smiling, he looked as if he were frowning.
The thatched cottage was surrounded by a fence, creating a small yard where some vegetables were planted, and a few chickens were kept.
The old man walked into the house and took out the chessboard, setting it up carefully.
The waiter, however, was not in the mood to play chess; his mind was in disarray. The old man noticed everything but pretended not to see. Occasionally, he would scold the waiter for not taking the game seriously, claiming his skills had deteriorated to the point of being a disgrace.
The waiter made a move to the east, then another to the west, completing the game in a distracted manner. By this time, dusk was approaching.
The burning ancient temple had basically lost all hope.
The waiter sighed, and so did the old man, though their feelings were different.
The waiter felt utterly drained. Although he had previously plotted against a few people in the tavern, once discovered, they not only spared him but also offered him an opportunity to earn money and marry. The waiter was someone who valued gratitude, but at this point, there was little he could do to change things other than feel a sense of bitterness.
The old man said, "It's getting late; you shouldn't go back tonight."
The waiter shook his head and replied, "I have a few horses over there that I need to move back! Otherwise, they might get lost."
The old man found it hard to deal with his grandson's stubbornness; as long as he didn't go up the mountain, everything would be manageable. He said, "Be careful on your way!"
"I will! Well then, Grandpa, I'm off," the waiter replied as he mounted his horse and quickly disappeared from sight.
The old man watched the waiter's departing figure with a loving gaze. There were some matters he wished to keep from his descendants; he wanted to settle them within his own generation.
He turned back to gather the scattered chess pieces and set up another game by the light of the moon before starting to play alone.
Meanwhile, the waiter rode swiftly down to the foot of the mountain. The three horses had already scattered in fright; halfway up the mountain had been burned bare. The horses had not been tied properly and were grazing freely at that moment.
The waiter glanced up at the mountain one last time, then reluctantly left, not returning to the restaurant but heading back to his father's home.
The moon was half-hidden behind the clouds, which glowed white under its light, drifting softly and beautifully, almost ethereal.
The ancient saying echoed: "The moon waxes and wanes, just as people experience joy and sorrow; since ancient times, it has been difficult for both to be complete."
The moon, like a maiden, did not reveal its full visage to the world, embodying those long-held and unbroken yearnings.
As one moved up from the base of the mountain, the flames below were cut off. From halfway up, a sense of desolation began; the charred mountainside resembled a flat scallion pancake, with green now reduced to mere specks scattered about.
Reaching the ancient temple, it was nearly completely collapsed. The vermilion-carved wooden pillars had vanished, and the two dragons that once adorned the roof beams were reduced to ashes. The golden debris lay shattered and blackened.
The entire ancient temple had become a heap of ruins, marking the end of a life that may have never truly existed.
Even the Ancient Tree of Sorrow at the temple's entrance could not escape unscathed, its bark burned and scarred.
Looking inside the temple, the Divine Countenance had been destroyed; even the walls were in tatters—calling it ruins would be an understatement.
Under the moonlight, the entire temple appeared desolate beyond measure; a structure that had stood for a thousand years was now obliterated.
A man in a black robe stood before the ruins, gazing at what remained. Tears glistened in his eyes as he murmured, "I have guarded this place for so many years." He looked up at the night sky and spoke in a voice filled with sorrow, "It is time for an explanation."
With those words, he vanished into the darkness as if he had never been there at all.
That day, news of the temple's destruction spread rapidly throughout the region, igniting fervent discussions everywhere.
The ancient temple had been burned down—who could be so audacious? In an instant, various theories emerged, each more outlandish than the last.
The innkeeper rested his hands on his plump chin and asked the waiter, who vaguely brushed off the question, clearly reluctant to discuss the matter.
Everything had been destroyed and silence reigned. The rumors of the haunted ancient temple kept the locals from venturing up the mountain. But now that the temple was in ruins, it was believed that all curses should have dissipated.
A few brave souls, undeterred by fear of death, decided to climb the mountain together. They returned unscathed, and soon everyone was convinced that the curse had come to an end. Many set out to prove they were not cowards, bringing this farce to a close.
The fate of the four who had ventured up the mountain was of little concern to anyone.
Later, the waiter kindly erected a false grave for them.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………
As Second entered through the wall, they stood behind it, their hands touching the surface, unable to sink further in.
Third remarked, "The writing outside has been burned away; we are trapped here."
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