“You, you, you!” Liang Renxin’s voice trembled with anger.
“How dare you lay hands on Master Yi? This is a grave disrespect!”
Shi Pengpeng glanced at the talismanic symbols on the burial cloth: “Likewise, I suppose.”
Normally, a burial cloth should be inscribed with the Mantra of Rebirth or the Scripture of Passage, but this one bore a Curse of Unjust Death.
No wonder Master Yi was furious, but it wasn’t entirely their fault for being insincere.
“Alright, alright,” Liang Renxin’s wife stepped in to mediate at the right moment.
“It’s her first time back in the village, and she doesn’t know the rules. Let’s not be too harsh. As long as you sincerely repent before Master Yi’s spirit, I’m sure he will forgive you. Of course…”
She paused, her face slightly contorted, but her voice grew even gentler, “if Master Yi’s anger doesn’t subside, you’ll never be able to leave this mourning hall.”
Cao Fanzhen whispered, “How do we know if Master Yi has forgiven us?”
Liang Renxin gave a sinister smile: “When the coffin lid is closed again…”
Before he could finish, there was a loud “bang.”
Shi Pengpeng had already pushed the coffin lid back into place and casually slapped a talisman on it, clapping her hands. “Done.”
Liang Renxin: His smile froze.
The others: “……”
Master Yi was forced to forgive them.
Liang Renxin and his wife looked displeased but didn’t dare say anything more.
Xiao Lingshu added fuel to the fire: “Aren’t you going to thank my mommy?”
“You’re quite capable, sister-in-law,” Liang Renxin said with a forced smile.
“Now, please join us for the feast in the ancestral hall.”
At the other end of the mourning hall, a large door slowly opened, and the sound of bustling chatter spilled out.
Before them was the main hall of a rural ancestral temple, brightly lit with four tables laden with banquet dishes.
Over a dozen villagers, dressed as NPCs, sat around the tables, clinking glasses and making merry.
Hearing the door open, the villagers turned to look, their faces blank.
“Ah, you’re finally here,” a woman came over to greet them.
“Hurry, come sit down. We’ve already started.”
Just as they were about to move, Liang Renxin suddenly reached out and grabbed Xiao Lingshu and said:
“This side is for adults. Little Bao is too young to feel comfortable here. Why don’t you come with Uncle to the kids’ table next door?”
“Yes, yes,” Liang Renxin’s wife chimed in.
“My Da Bao is over there too. He’s just a year older than Little Bao and can keep him company.”
Xiao Lingshu looked at Shi Pengpeng and blinked: “Mommy…?”
Shi Pengpeng:”…..”
Before entering the escape room, the staff had mentioned that the child role would follow a separate path midway.
But now that the escape room was under the control of that thing, was the game still following the original script?
Shi Pengpeng thought of the old objects that had appeared in the escape room and a post online related to the owner’s experience, and she began to suspect something.
She asked Xiao Lingshu, “Can you handle it alone?”
“Are you doubting the quality of our school’s education?” Xiao Lingshu pulled out a copper coin and tossed it in his hand.
“Although I’m not as good as you, and I didn’t bring my sword today because it wasn’t properly wrapped, I still have a secret weapon…”
Shi Pengpeng: “Get to the point.”
Xiao Lingshu: “If I can’t handle it, I’ll find a way to summon you!”
“Alright,” Shi Pengpeng interrupted him decisively and turned to look at Liang Renxin and his wife.
“Quick, take him away.”
Xiao Lingshu:”…..”
What a heartless mother!
Liang Renxin and his wife took Xiao Lingshu through a small door, while the remaining three were led by the woman to sit at a table with available seats.
Shi Pengpeng quickly glanced at the table and saw a total of nine dishes.
Traditionally, funeral banquets, also known as “cleansing wine” in some regions, usually consist of seven dishes, often featuring white- colored vegetarian dishes and desserts like winter melon and tofu.
However, the dishes on this table not only deviated in number but also included several red-colored dishes typically associated with longevity celebrations.
Although customs have evolved and become less rigid, in an escape room themed around a “funeral,” this seemed particularly inappropriate.
But they weren’t really there to eat.
Shortly after sitting down, before they could even pick up their chopsticks, Liang Renxin and his wife returned.
“Brother, sister-in-law, something terrible has happened,” Liang Renxin said anxiously. “Little Bao is missing.”
Shi Pengpeng: “What happened?”
“Ah, it’s all my fault,” Liang Renxin’s wife interjected.
“I ate something bad earlier and had a stomachache. I was careless and thought Little Bao was playing safely with Big Bao, so I left them alone for just a moment. Who would have thought…”
“How dare you say that!” Liang Renxin angrily slapped her.
“You’re useless! If we can’t find Little Bao, how are you going to explain this?”
“Why don’t you blame yourself?” his wife retorted, equally furious, and they began to scuffle.
“All you do is drink! If you had helped me watch them for a moment, this wouldn’t have happened…”
Shi Pengpeng watched coldly and said, “You two, stop wasting time and go find the child.”
Background narration-
“My husband, my sister, and I searched the entire Liang Village, but we couldn’t find Little Bao anywhere.”
“Little Bao is so young-where could he have gone?”
“As time passed, I grew more and more desperate.”
“Then, an elderly villager told me that at the foot of the mountain, there was a spirit medium known as a ‘Rice Diviner.’ Perhaps I could seek her help.”
“I had never believed in such things before, but now, with no other options, I was willing to try anything, even the slightest glimmer of hope.”
A door opened on the other side of the ancestral hall.
Shi Pengpeng led Yan Jing and Cao Fanzhen through it and found themselves in an ordinary room.
However, one wall was adorned with an altar, on which stood a deity statue, two incense burners, and offerings of fruits and other items.
In front of the altar was an old-fashioned wooden square table, on which lay a yellow calendar, a bowl of white rice, and a pair of crescent- shaped divination blocks.
A plump middle-aged woman sat on one side of the table. “Are you here for a rice divination?”
Shi Pengpeng nodded:
“Yes. Rice divination, known as “Wen Mi”, is an ancient form of witchcraft that communicates between the living and the dead. It originated thousands of years ago from the practices of “Wen Xi.” “
Some claim to be able to traverse the underworld, bringing back spirits to possess their bodies and communicate with the living, even to predict fortunes or foresee the future. In simpler terms, it’s what’s commonly known as “ghost possession.”
Rice is often used as a medium in these rituals, especially in rural areas, where rice is an essential offering in both life and death ceremonies.
This practice is called “Wen Mi” in folklore, and the women who practice it are known as “Rice Diviners.”
This type of sorcery is similar to spirit writing, and neither is considered orthodox Taoist practice.
They are heavily steeped in superstition and are often used by low-level charlatans to deceive people.
While such practices have largely disappeared in urban areas, they still hold sway in rural regions.
The spirit medium, known as the “rice-asking granny,” had the three of them sit on the opposite side of the square table and asked, “Do you have the birth details of the person you’re inquiring about?”
Shi Pengpeng remembered the envelope the staff had handed her before entering the secret chamber.
She took it out and opened it, finding a name card inside.
Name: Du Pingsi
Birth: Jia Yin Year, Gui You Month, Geng Yin Day, Mao Hour, Third Quarter
There was also an address in Liangjia Village and other details.
“Du Pingsi? Who is that?” Cao Fanzhen, still somewhat confused, asked,
“Aren’t we here to find out about the child’s whereabouts?”
In the story’s context, the child’s father was a villager from Liangjia Village, so logically, the surname should be Liang.
Shi Pengpeng shook her head, “I don’t know.”
In fact, not just the name, but the birth details also seemed peculiar.
The name card didn’t use the common Gregorian calendar but instead the traditional Chinese sexagenary cycle.
The sexagenary cycle pairs the ten heavenly stems with the twelve earthly branches, repeating every sixty years.
The last Jia Yin year corresponded to 1974, but the story is set in a more recent time, which clearly doesn’t match the child’s age.
The next Jia Yin year would be 2034, which is even more inconsistent.
The rice-asking granny spread out a red paper on the square table, flipped through an almanac, and said, “Now I will begin the rice-asking ritual. I need one of you to follow along with me. Who will it be?”
Shi Pengpeng stepped up to the incense altar.
“Do exactly as I do, and don’t make any mistakes,” the granny warned, then began walking around the table in a peculiar manner.
Shi Pengpeng glanced at her steps and noticed she was using the “yin steps.”
However, whether it was due to the NPC’s lack of skill or the entity behind her being insufficiently powerful, the granny’s steps were unsteady, each one slightly off.
Shi Pengpeng followed behind, her every step landing precisely in the correct position.
After completing three circles, the granny picked up a pair of divination blocks and threw them to the ground.
They landed one face up, one face down.
“Divine response,” the granny said with a pleased expression, then suddenly turned around, thrust her hand into the rice, and shouted,
“Heavenly spirits, earthly spirits, the missing person Du Pingsi, your family is searching for you. If you hear this, please return quickly—”
Shi Pengpeng’s heart stirred, and she silently recited a ghost-summoning incantation.
Sure enough, as the incantation ended, the room suddenly turned cold, and a gust of eerie wind rose from the ground, scattering the incense ashes from the burner all over the floor.
The rice-asking granny slowly raised her head and faced them.
Her previously amiable expression had twisted into a grotesque mask, her eyes rolled upward, showing only the bloodshot whites with no pupils visible.
She was clearly possessed.
Yan Jing’s scalp tightened, but his expression remained calm as he whispered, “Should we act now?”
“Wait, something’s not right,” Shi Pengpeng frowned slightly, her confusion deepening.
Although the granny’s appearance was terrifying, there was no trace of malevolent energy around her.
She wasn’t the entity summoned by the shoes.
There were actually two spirits in this chamber.
Shi Pengpeng formed a hand seal and stared at the granny, “Who are you?”
“I… I…” The spirit medium’s lips trembled, her teeth clattering.
She struggled with all her might before finally managing to speak, “I… I am Du Pingsi-“
This answer was not unexpected.
Since she had been summoned through the spirit medium ritual, she naturally was the person being inquired about.
Shi Pengpeng wanted to ask more, but Du Pingsi seemed as if something was choking her throat.
She made gurgling sounds and could only barely spit out a few words: “Shoes… find the shoes…”
As she spoke, the small door of the main hall opened, and Liang Renxin and his wife dragged Liang Yu in, shoving him to the ground.
As Liang Yu fell, a red tiger-headed children’s shoe fell out of his arms and rolled to Shi Pengpeng and the others.
Liang Renxin shouted angrily, “Brother, sister-in-law, we just found this shoe on Liang Yu. Little Bao must have been taken by him!”
Liang Yu looked up at them, frantically waving his hands, “Yi yi, yi yi—”
Liang Renxin kicked him fiercely, “You evil-hearted fool, don’t even think of denying it.”
Shi Pengpeng asked, “What does this shoe have to do with Little Bao?”
“Ah, sister-in-law, you don’t know,” Liang Renxin’s wife said.
“Earlier, Little Bao was playing with Dabao and insisted on swapping shoes because he liked Dabao’s shoes. I couldn’t refuse, so I let Little Bao wear them.”
“It’s this shoe,” she picked up the tiger-headed shoe and held it up to them.
“I made this myself. There’s only one pair in the entire village, so there’s no mistake.”
“Exactly,” Liang Renxin chimed in.
“Now Little Bao is missing, and this shoe is in the hands of this fool. Who else could have done it?”
“But…” Shi Pengpeng said slowly, “This shoe was already in Liang Yu’s hands when we entered the village.”
At that time, “Little Bao” was still with them.
Liang Renxin and his wife were taken aback by this revelation and fell silent.
Liang Yu, now proven innocent, excitedly kowtowed repeatedly to Shi Pengpeng, “Yi yi—”
Suddenly, Cao Fanzhen exclaimed, “Ah! This shoe is the same as the ones worn by the paper effigies!”
Shi Pengpeng asked, “Paper effigies?”
“The ones placed in front of Master Yi’s coffin,” Cao Fanzhen explained.
“There were two red ones and two green ones. Don’t you remember?”
“Those are the boy and girl effigies meant to accompany the deceased on their journey…” Shi Pengpeng frowned.
The ancients believed that all living things possessed spirits, especially children who had not been tainted by the secular world.
Their spiritual energy was stronger, so some high-ranking individuals would use boys and girls as sacrificial offerings to help them ascend to immortality after death.
Later, the practice of human sacrifice gradually disappeared, but this barbaric custom was retained, albeit replaced by paper effigies.
The paper figures were usually red for boys and green for girls, symbolizing the harmony of yin and yang.
Red clothes and red shoes were the standard attire for the boy effigies.
But why would Liang Renxin and his wife make a pair of shoes identical to those of the boy effigy for their son?
No, these shoes were clearly prepared for “Little bao.”
Since these shoes were unique and one of them was in Liang Yu’s hands, then Liang Renxin and his wife only had one left.
No one would make a child wear a single shoe.
Unless there was a reason that made it absolutely necessary.
Shi Pengpeng recalled the various strange phenomena since entering the secret chamber: the boy’s shoes that could connect the realms of yin and yang, the burial cloth inscribed with the curse of wrongful death, the untimely mourning…
Everything seemed to point to a ritual.
“Master Yi used living people as sacrificial offerings.”
Not only that, but among the words spoken by Liang Renxin and his wife, there was likely one truth-those shoes were originally meant to be worn by their son.
Liang Dabao was the boy Master Yi had initially chosen.
Shi Pengpeng’s gaze sharpened as she stared intently at Liang Renxin and his wife.
“You used Little bao as a substitute for your son.”
Having figured out the key, she wasted no time.
She immediately threw out two yellow talismans, igniting them in their designated positions.
Sure enough, the chilling aura in the secret chamber was quickly dispelled, as if exposed to the sun.
Liang Renxin, his wife, and Liang Yu let out a soft moan, their eyes closing as they fell into a deep sleep.
The tiger-head shoes held by Liang Renxin’s wife fell to the ground and, as if worn by someone, began hopping toward the outer hall.
But Shi Pengpeng stepped on them. “Trying to leave?”
She slapped a Six Ding Six Jia Evil-Slaying Talisman onto the shoes, rendering them immobile.
In just a moment, the secret chamber returned to normal.
Cao Fanzhen’s expression, however, cracked.
Even she, slow to realize, finally sensed something was wrong and let out a startled scream.
“Don’t be afraid,” Shi Pengpeng turned to her with a reassuring smile, patting the back of her hand.
“It’s just a wandering spirit. I’m here.”
Cao Fanzhen: “…”
Yan Jing stood coolly to the side, glancing at them with a hint of regret for inviting Cao Fanzhen along.
Otherwise, Shi Pengpeng’s comforting attention would surely have been on him!