After nine lifetimes of reincarnation, the yandere villainous heroine descends.

The moment the figures disappeared into the mist, the suppressed sobs at the village entrance suddenly exploded into a heart-wrenching wail.

The ones crying the loudest were the parents of the children from earlier. They slumped on the ground, slapping their thighs and calling out their children's names over and over again, their voices breaking into fragments in the smog.

The others also had tears in their eyes and rushed forward to help and comfort them—who hasn't experienced such a heart-wrenching thing?

Life in Changming Village has always been about enduring countless farewells.

"Stop crying!"

A cold rebuke abruptly pierced the sound of crying.

"Being able to offer this to the mountain king is a blessing we've accumulated over many lifetimes. Stop ruining this good fortune with your mournful wailing!"

The speaker was a woman with a blank expression, not a single tear in her eyes, but everyone knew that she had just seen off her three-year-old daughter.

The group of people who had just lost their children immediately turned red in the eyes, glaring angrily at her, their lips trembling as they tried to retort.

The words "King of the Mountain" weighed heavily on his throat, but when they reached his lips, they ultimately turned into a suppressed sob.

In Changming Village, no one has ever truly seen what the mountain king looks like.

Even the men who escorted the offerings into the mountains every month had never seen it.

But the terrifying legends about the mountain tiger were etched into the bones of everyone since the village was founded.

Even more bizarrely, the villagers who were fanatically devoted to the mountain king did indeed receive benefits.

Those so-called benefits were nothing more than death warrants bought with their lives, making them die even faster amidst their illusory hopes.

The smog was still lingering, and the crying gradually subsided, leaving only the sound of the wind carrying the earthy smell, swirling around the empty village entrance.

The smog hung heavy all day, from the desolate morning to the gloomy evening, the sky gradually darkening in the white fog.

The men escorting the children kept walking, getting closer and closer to the place where Chuanshan King lived. The path under their feet gradually became rugged, and the weeds reached above their ankles.

Midway along the way, a pedestrian walkway passed a solitary Taoist temple. The temple's door was ajar, and the plaque under the eaves was bare, without any inscription, resembling a silent stone in the mist.

The men walked on, oblivious to the sight; they had passed by this Taoist temple countless times.

It's always empty, not a soul in sight, and nobody ever thought of going in to rest.

Just as they were about to pass by the entrance of the Taoist temple, the little girl at the end of the line, with her vacant eyes, suddenly stopped.

Her wrist, held by the rope, tightened slightly. She stiffly turned her head, her empty pupils staring straight at the silent Taoist temple.

She subconsciously licked her chapped lips slightly, her face expressionless, but a very soft swallowing sound came from her throat.

She could clearly sense that the delicious food was hidden in that Taoist temple, carrying an aura that made her inexplicably long for it.

not only that.

A feeling of being watched crept up her spine. She could see that deep inside the Taoist temple, a pair of eyes were staring intently at her through the door and through the mist.

No, it wasn't staring at everyone; those eyes were fixed precisely on her.

The rope was tugged by the person in front, and the little girl swayed, but was mechanically led forward.

But she didn't turn around immediately, until the shadow of the Taoist temple completely disappeared into the mist behind her.

"well……"

Deep within the Taoist temple, a soft sigh drifted out, almost imperceptibly, mingling with the sound of mist outside the window, as light as a wisp of smoke.

Shen Shuchou withdrew his gaze from the doorway, a hint of complexity still lingering in his calm eyes.

He got up from the bed covered with a coarse cloth mattress, picked up the gray-blue Taoist robe draped over the headboard, and put it on slowly.

He ran his fingertips along the folds of his Taoist robe and murmured to himself, "These leisurely days are finally over."

The smog outside the window still lingered, and the shadow of the mountain tiger was like a brand on this forbidden land, making generations of villagers feel suffocated.

It's time to meet that mountain lord who hides behind the fog and feeds his power on fear.

It's also time to meet this sixth incarnation of the witch who focuses on taboos.

He pushed open the creaking wooden door, and his figure quickly disappeared into the white mist outside the Taoist temple.

Above the sky, the setting sun, blurred into a hazy yellow by the thick smog, slowly sank, its trail of light trailing behind it.

Darkness, like a maggot clinging to bone, clung to heaven and earth, devouring the last vestige of warmth.

The chill of the night crept up from our ankles, silently seeping into the very spine of everyone.

The already blurry smog was now even more intertwined with the night, like an ink-soaked veil, making the road ahead even more indistinct and difficult to discern.

"I want to go home... I miss my mother."

"Uncle Li, where are we going? Please take me home. I want to find my mother..."

"Waaaah... I'm scared... Mother..."

The sobs in the group were like shattered beads scattered by the wind, rolling one after another into the deathly silence.

These children had no idea about the mountain lord's ferocity; they only remembered that Uncle Li said he would take them into the mountains to see the immortals.

But at this moment, all that surged in my heart was longing for my mother and fear of the unknown.

The burly, dark-skinned man, addressed as Uncle Li, whirled around. His rough face was expressionless, and his gaze was fixed intently on the crying child: "Don't you want to see the immortal anymore?"

"I don't want to see immortals!"

The child sobbed and shook his head, clutching Uncle Li's clothes with his little hand, pleading in a tearful voice, "Uncle Li, take me home... I miss my mother..."

"Hehe...Be good."

Uncle Li let out a low, hoarse, cold laugh.

His tone carried an indescribable chill: "You've come this far, it's too late to turn back now. Once you see the immortal, he will naturally let you go home."

Hearing this, the crying child immediately wiped away her tears haphazardly with her little hands, sobbing as she looked up: "Re...really? If I see the immortal...I can really go home to see my mother?"

"Of course it's true."

Uncle Li's voice was devoid of emotion.

The line fell silent for a moment.

"That……"

A slightly calmer voice rang out; it belonged to the oldest member of the team, a seven-year-old boy whose fingers, gripping the hem of his clothes, had turned white.

"Then why... haven't Li Cheng and the others returned?"

The Li Cheng he mentioned was his neighbor, and the two had played together since childhood.

More than a year had passed since their last meeting. He still clearly remembered how Li Cheng had happily grasped his hand, excitedly boasting that he was about to meet an immortal.

The scene seemed to be right before my eyes, but now Li Cheng was gone and would never return. He was now also going to see the immortals.

But now, a sense of unease is rising from the depths of his heart, and his young mind is gradually being filled with unknown fear.

What disturbed him even more was that the wrists of his children were tied together with a thick hemp rope.

The village chief said it was to prevent them from getting separated on the road, but now that the rough knots were around their wrists, it looked more like they were there to prevent them from escaping.

"You'll find out when you get there and ask him yourself."

Uncle Li's eyes were as cold as ice crystals as he stared straight at the seven-year-old child, his tone devoid of any warmth.

He opened his mouth as if to say something more, but his wrist was suddenly tightened, and Uncle Li forcefully pulled him forward a few steps.

He was only a seven-year-old child after all. Even if he realized something was wrong, what could he do against several burly men with his hands and feet tightly bound?

All we can do now is pray in our hearts, hoping that they really are going to see that legendary immortal.

For some reason, he suddenly turned his head subconsciously and looked towards the end of the line.

There was another figure there, bound by ropes, a child like them, but unlike his crying companions.

The man showed no sign of panic, not even a furrowed brow; his expression was as calm as a still, deep pool.

"What are you looking at? Get out of here!"

A shout rang in his ears, and he was pulled so hard that he stumbled. He could only turn around hurriedly and move forward unsteadily.

After the group of figures completely disappeared into the mist, a figure in a plain Taoist robe slowly emerged from the thick darkness.

Shen Shuchou stood still, his gaze piercing through the thick smog as he looked into the distance, his brow furrowed slightly.

Not far away, a powerful aura emanated from him, causing his mind to tremble. The ferocity and oppressive force of that aura was undoubtedly that of the Mountain Lord who dwells in this forbidden land.

After about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, the children who had been dragged along finally stopped in front of a dilapidated mountain temple.

The temple gate was half-closed, and the eaves were covered with cobwebs, resembling a silent, gaping maw in the dim light, as if it were about to devour something.

"Junior Li Gen has come to offer sacrifices to the Mountain King!"

The man called Uncle Li looked at him with awe.

With a thud, his knees slammed heavily onto the slippery moss, his forehead almost touching the cold stone steps.

His voice echoed around the empty temple, but the temple was deathly silent, as if it had sunk into an abyss. Even the sound of the wind seemed to have been swallowed up, leaving no echo whatsoever.

The cold sweat on Li Gen's back instantly soaked through his coarse cloth jacket, and the sweat from his palms dampened the corners of his clothes.

At this time of year, that majestic voice should have already echoed from the temple.

The deathly silence today is more unsettling than any reprimand.

Inside the temple, which he could not see, a statue suddenly moved.

Deep within the previously empty eye sockets, a pair of pitch-black eyes slowly opened.

Without a trace of pupils, yet like two deep pools, they pierced through the dilapidated temple gate, precisely locking onto the quietest, petite figure at the end of the line.

Time ticked by with the children's heartbeats, and a faint glimmer of light suddenly flashed in the statue's dark eyes.

It was shock, as if they had seen something incredible.

But the shock was fleeting, replaced by an almost boiling greed, and a dark red tinge appeared at the edges of his black eyes, as if blood was surging within them.

Just as a deep sound seemed about to roll out from the statue's throat, it suddenly stopped.

In the dark, hazy depths outside the temple, a faint aura quietly spread out, clear and crisp, carrying with it a dignified Daoist charm.

The clay eyebrows of the statue were slightly furrowed, as if they were alive.

The words that were about to come out of his mouth were abruptly changed, turning into a hoarse and dry voice that drifted out through the temple gate.

"Where do you come from, guest?"