San value dropped to zero on the spot. A cold sensation rose from his tailbone, surging straight up to his crown, as Zhang Yuanqing seemed like a cat with fur standing on end—leaping high in place, then erupting into an outburst of Chinese expletive: “Eh—horse dung!” This was the natural response when someone is under intense shock or sudden fright. Now he finally understood why his shoulders had been so sore and why the corpse by the window carried a bronze mirror with him. The mirror was there to observe whether any spirit had settled on his shoulder. When exactly had that spirit pressed against his shoulder—was it when he first entered the Si-Hé-Yuán courtyard, or upon stepping into this room? Who had given him courage to venture out and explore—was it Liang Jingru? His mind was boiling over with thoughts, rising in waves of terror. Though he knew the temple housed something strange and terrifying, and though his heart had been prepared for such a situation, facing ghosts and spirits directly still evoked an indescribable panic within him. Ah—yes—he had a talisman… Zhang Yuanqing shook his hands to retrieve the yellow paper charm from the inner pocket of his jacket, pressing it firmly against his shoulder as a last-ditch effort. Crack! The charm landed on his shoulder. He lifted the bronze mirror, carefully scanning it—and there, still pressed against his shoulder, was the man with pale complexion and blackened lips, eyes lifeless. Useless—the spirit wasn’t of the typical corpse or shadow kind… His last shred of hope vanished. Zhang Yuanqing now felt increasing soreness and stiffness in his shoulders, hands growing cold. This wasn’t just a sensation—it was real, tangible loss of yang energy. At this moment, Zhang Yuanqing thought of the body beneath the main hall’s table and of the senior colleague who had died by the window. He now realized that he would likely meet the same fate as both of them—dying here. A profound chill surged through him. “Tap-tap!” Suddenly, at this critical moment, faint footsteps came from outside along the corridor. The sound was delicate yet clearly audible in the quiet night. Zhang Yuanqing’s heart instantly tightened—he quickly knelt down beside the corpse by the window. These footsteps felt familiar—very similar to what he had heard when entering the temple earlier. “Tap-tap-tap…” They grew closer, moving toward him. Zhang Yuanqing held his breath, every muscle tensed, faintly hearing his own racing heartbeat. As the steps passed by the window, he still couldn’t resist glancing at the floor—moonlight fell across it, casting a grid pattern on the ground. The window was low, just reaching waist level. A person of average height walking past should have cast a shadow under moonlight—but he saw nothing. This meant that whatever passed by outside the window had no physical form. Fortunately, the footsteps didn’t stop at the window or enter the room—they simply continued and gradually faded into distance. Exhaling slowly, Zhang Yuanqing relaxed and focused on listening to the fading sounds. He heard them cross into the courtyard, making a soft “shush-shush” sound as they stepped over the grass. Then, they stopped. A few seconds later, the footsteps returned—this time not merely walking, but moving with a distinct rhythm and pattern. What was it doing in the courtyard? Zhang Yuanqing strained his body, supporting himself on his ice-cold limbs, slowly rising to look out through the torn window glass. Under the moonlight, amid the wild grass, there stood a pair of brand-new red dancing shoes—Western-style—dancing a rhythm like a solo performance in the night air. Moonlit temple, deserted hall, red dancing shoes, performing alone. The scene was both absurd and eerie, yet carried an undeniable sense of solitude. How could such Western-style dance shoes exist inside a Ming dynasty mountain deity’s temple? This old temple is getting more and more strange… Zhang Yuanqing quietly knelt back down again, ready to wait patiently. As time passed, the spirit pressing against his shoulder continued draining his yang energy—his body growing stiffer, the shoulder pain evolving from soreness into sharp stabbing sensations. He sensed that if this state persisted, he would either die of complete depletion of vital energy or succumb to a broken shoulder fracture. With the agony mounting, the dance in the courtyard gradually faded away. Zhang Yuanqing still wouldn’t dare to lift his head—he waited another moment before carefully peering out through the window toward the courtyard. Now the courtyard was filled with moonlight, the grass standing still—gone were the strange dancing shoes. “Ah…” He released a long breath of relief and sank onto the floor as he tried to rise. His knees gave way—he collapsed into the soft bedding. With his tense nerves finally relaxing and adrenaline receding, he realized how dire his condition was compared to what he had imagined. The shoulder now burned with sharp pain, bones feeling like they might splinter; his knee joints stiffened—his blood seemed to have turned to ice. He trembled, reaching for the mirror—the grayish surface revealed him pale and wan, eyes dull, spirit faded. How could this be a normal person? He looked more like someone near death, almost spent. The spirit pressed against his shoulder remained silent and eerie, gazing at him with unblinking stillness. If he didn’t take action soon, he would surely perish—yet what could he do? What could he reach to touch the spirit upon his shoulder? The intense pain in his shoulder compelled him to lean firmly against the wall for support. He glanced over at the worker’s body lying beside it—the posture was identical. “Ah—that’s why…” Zhang Yuanqing smiled faintly, a bitter one. He now saw his own end, heard the sigh of the approaching death god. Yet Zhang Yuanqing did not surrender to despair—his mind remained active and alert, like an overloaded CPU still searching for a way to survive in the crisis. In that instant, amid the chaotic flow of information, the body beneath the main hall table flashed through his consciousness. “Two bodies have different shoulder fractures—the one under the main hall has only minor damage—so why did the spirit not press on him? Surely it wouldn’t have shown leniency…” “And why would he have hidden behind the table?” “The red dancing shoes were following me when I entered the temple—but once I reached the main hall, they disappeared.” With this realization, the dim, foggy light in his eyes brightened with hope. Back to the main hall—back to the main hall! He immediately rose from his seat and began walking toward it—the steps slow and laborious, as though carrying a great mountain on his shoulders. “Plop!” He stumbled and fell into the wild grasses in the courtyard—he couldn’t get back up. Zhang Yuanqing’s jaw trembled, the teeth clashing together with a soft “tck-tck” sound—his body felt like it was plunged into winter’s cold. The chill had drained his warmth, eroded his will. He slowly crawled toward the main hall, drawing upon all his strength, keeping his eyes fixed on the outline of the building ahead to keep hope alive in them. Though the journey from the courtyard to the main hall took only about one minute, it now felt like crossing an endless distance. Just as he reached the eaves and entered the main hall, a faint cry echoed in his ears—his shoulder lightened instantly—the cold, dizziness, stiffness—all vanished. Zhang Yuanqing rolled over and staggered to the base of the building, then hurried around to the front side, pushing through the lattice door and collapsing into the threshold. The candlelight was dim but warm—dispelling the gloom with a gentle comfort. He lay in a large spread-out posture on the floor, breathing heavily, gasping as he rested for several minutes before feeling that he had truly come back to life. “What a terrifying experience—it’s true! My hypothesis is correct—the main hall is indeed a safe haven.” By comparing the shoulder injuries of the two bodies, Zhang Yuanqing deduced that some barrier must have prevented the spirit from pursuing the person inside. The worker who curled up and died behind the table reflected his instinct to hide in extreme fear—this matched perfectly. In the senior worker’s mind, the main hall was safe. And the red dancing shoes abandoning their pursuit validated this assumption. For the rest of the time, Zhang Yuanqing remained in the main hall until the pain in his shoulders eased and his body temperature stabilized. Indeed, he encountered no further danger. “The main hall is a sanctuary—so my chances of survival have greatly improved—even if the spirit continues to drain my essence, I can escape back here. But should I encounter the spirit and also be pursued by the red dancing shoes, I may not make it back.” “And this temple’s most mysterious and dreadful source… surely isn’t just the spirit alone.” He didn’t feel triumphant merely because he had survived one crisis—the old temple was far more complex than that. After all, there had been an entire construction crew who died here previously. After resting for some time, his fear gradually eased—he hesitated whether to continue exploring outside. Then the voice in his mind once again echoed: 【Main Mission One: Survive for Three Hours (Completed)】 【Main Mission Two: Explore Spirit Realm No. 0079—Progress: 20%】 【Yuan Shi Tian Zun, congratulations on completing a main mission—reward settlement underway…】 【Obtained Item/Prop: Talisman of Calming the Dead (available in inventory).】 【Earned Experience Points: 15%】 【Inventory unlocked.】 【You will now enjoy 36 hours of rest time; next activation of Spirit Realm No. 0079 at: 35:59:40.】 The surroundings within the main hall began to warp, as if disturbed by a gentle breeze. When the image stabilized again, Zhang Yuanqing saw bright energy-saving lights, spacious beds, a desk, a PS5 gaming console, open windows—wind gently fluttering the curtains. He had returned to the real world. “Back?” He looked around in astonishment, confirming he was truly back in his room—and then collapsed onto the soft bed. Taking a deep breath, the air felt sweet and fresh. Living was wonderful—the human world itself was so comforting. After a few moments of recovery, Zhang Yuanqing sat up and pulled down the jacket zipper—there it was: the talisman had disappeared. A natural thought emerged in him—"Retrieve items." Instantly, a grid of blue squares appeared before his eyes. Five squares total—the yellow paper charm lay nestled within the first one. What a remarkable experience—it felt as though once the inventory system unlocked, this function became instinctive, requiring no learning—just knowing how to open it naturally. “Besides gaining 15% experience points, I still have zero rank—this means I have not yet become a Night Wandering Deity. I remain just an ordinary person.” “To survive three hours had nearly claimed my life—what about the next mission? Is this truly S-level difficulty?” Zhang Yuanqing felt increasingly hopeless—he thought he had been fooled by Bing Brother. This card indeed held the potential to transform his life—but it was also surprisingly difficult to manage. He had a clear self-awareness—that as a university student who had never even killed a chicken, he would find it extremely challenging to survive in the next mission alone. As an earnest socialist youth with strong ideals, now he felt deeply compelled to rely on the government and national institutions. Thus, he reached for his smartphone—just as his fingers touched the screen, he paused. For he realized—he might have a better alternative. He turned over in bed, searching in the drawer of the desk where the tall man’s business card had been left behind. The card bore name and contact details. This experience reminded him of Bing Brother’s mysterious disappearance—should he fail to emerge alive from here, would that not be his own case of sudden vanishing? It was certain that Bing Brother had already encountered the spirit realm—perhaps his disappearance resulted from entering one of those realms? With this line of reasoning, Zhang Yuanqing found the investigating officers at the police station trustworthy. He chose to contact the tall man for a second reason—the fact that he himself mentioned there was a possibility he might also vanish—a clear hint suggesting he would enter a spirit realm. Combined with the fact that his uncle had no prior knowledge of this, Zhang Yuanqing concluded that those three individuals were likely specialized staff handling such events. After mulling it over, Zhang Yuanqing dialed the number on the business card. The phone rang for several seconds—then answered. A mature male voice spoke: “Who is calling?”