Chapter 35

Chapter 35

The following morning, the courier arrived promptly, and indeed, among the deliveries was a key. Lin Xingshu had already packed his bags and, upon receiving the key, wasted no time in setting off.

His online friend had provided the specific address that morning, thoughtfully tidied the old house, and even arranged for a relative to meet him. Lin Xingshu was equal parts surprised and flattered by such attentive treatment.

He was merely helping them with some publicity—why such special treatment?

The town was quite a distance from the city, a two-hour drive, but the surrounding transportation was convenient and well-developed, ensuring a high degree of safety.

By the time he reached the town, it was already past 2 p.m. Just as his online friend had described, a middle-aged woman strikingly similar in appearance was waiting for him at the entrance. As soon as she saw him, she waved enthusiastically.

"Hey—! Young man! Are you Lin Xingshu?"

The woman smiled warmly, dressed simply and appearing very approachable.

"Yes, that's me. Hello."

The woman chuckled. "You're finally here! My name is Liu Rong, Liu Yuting's cousin."

Lin Xingshu nodded and extended his hand for a handshake, but the woman hesitated, quickly waving her hands with a laugh. "Oh, let's skip the handshake. I just came back from the fields—my hands are covered in mud."

Lin Xingshu smiled in understanding. Rural folk were always so genuine and warm.

"By the way, Xiao Lin, this is a gift for you."

Liu Rong presented a beautifully crafted brocade box, carefully opening it and gently retrieving its contents, as if handling something incredibly precious.

Lin Xingshu's gaze fell on Liu Rong's hands. In them was a handkerchief embroidered with intricate totemic patterns.

The handkerchief was palm-sized, featuring a scarecrow-like figure embroidered in red silk with meticulous, fine stitches—clearly a labor of love. On the reverse side of the totem were some characters he couldn't decipher, likely blessings or prayers.

Moreover, placed atop the totem was a red woven bracelet, its threads shimmering with golden flecks. The design was simple, yet the craftsmanship was remarkably intricate.

"Xiao Lin, thank you for being willing to help us. This is a small token of appreciation from the villagers. Both the totem and the bracelet carry meanings of blessing and warding off evil. They were handmade by the grandmothers in our village. We hope you can wear this bracelet while taking photos to promote our hometown. Once again, we are truly grateful!"

Liu Rong's words were earnest, her eyes brimming with gratitude. Feeling overwhelmed by the gesture, Lin Xingshu immediately put on the bracelet.

"Sister, there's no need for this. I'm just here to visit and have some fun—you're overestimating me... Still, thank you for the bracelet. I'll definitely wear it while promoting the traditional artisans of your village!"

Seeing Lin Xingshu put on the bracelet and carefully tuck the totem into his pocket, a gleam appeared in Liu Rong’s eyes. She stared intently at the young man’s pale wrist and couldn’t help but murmur,

"So beautiful... Just as he said... It really suits you."

He?

Lin Xingshu tilted his head slightly, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. "Sister, who are you talking about?"

Liu Rong quickly recovered and smiled. "My younger brother. He said this bracelet would look good on you."

Is that so...

Lin Xingshu frowned. But... that boy had never seen him before. How would he know the bracelet would suit him?

Well, maybe it was just a casual compliment.

"Let’s not worry about that. Come with me—I’ll take you to your lodging. Rest for now, and come to my house for dinner at 7 p.m. Everyone’s eager to meet the talented photographer Liu Yuting recommended to promote Xiushan Village!"

Liu Rong walked ahead, praising him endlessly until his face grew hot with embarrassment.

Though he considered himself a good photographer, he was far from being an expert...

Lin Xingshu glanced around as they walked. It was early afternoon, and many townsfolk sat chatting at their doorsteps. As he passed, their eyes turned toward him, whispering among themselves. Their gazes made him uneasy.

Though they didn't do anything obvious, something about their stares unsettled him. It felt as if their eyes held something more... something hidden.

"Xiao Lin, look—it’s right ahead."

Liu Rong’s voice brought him back from his thoughts. Following her pointing finger, he saw a house on stilts standing at the edge of a wheat field. It was autumn, and the golden stalks rustled softly in the breeze.

If Xiushan Village were developed, this place could easily be turned into a café. He could only imagine how popular it would be.

"So beautiful..." Lin Xingshu couldn’t help but mutter.

Liu Rong smiled brightly. "Isn’t it? Come, let me show you."

Lin Xingshu followed distractedly, the rustling wheat fields soothing his soul.

"We’re here!"

Liu Rong pushed open the door of the house on stilts, and a stale air greeted them. Yet, the interior was spotless, neatly furnished.

Lin Xingshu’s eyes wandered until they were drawn to a large tapestry hanging on the wall. The pattern resembled the totem, but upon closer inspection, something seemed different.

He pulled the totem from his pocket and compared it to the tapestry. The difference lay in the scarecrow’s eyes.

On the totem, the scarecrow’s eyes were red. On the tapestry... they were black.

Those black eyes were pitch-black, lifeless, and unnerving. Even though he stood to the side, it felt as if those pitch-black eyes were staring straight at him through the fabric.

He took an involuntary step back—only to bump into a warm body. Lin Xingshu gasped in surprise and spun around to find Liu Rong standing behind him.

She smiled, hands clasped behind her back. "What’s wrong? Scared?"

Lin Xingshu scratched his head, embarrassed. "A... a little. That scarecrow is kind of creepy."

"That’s normal. Most people feel that way."

Liu Rong approached and bowed deeply to the tapestry—though her gesture wasn’t the traditional prayer gesture, but a strange, intricate hand sign.

"This is the deity of Xiushan Village. We've worshipped Him for over five hundred years. Thanks to His protection, whether through war or plague, Xiushan Village has remained safe, allowing our people to thrive. We are all deeply grateful."

Lin Xingshu frowned. "Traditional deities are usually depicted in human form. Why is yours a scarecrow?"

"That story begins five hundred years ago."

Liu Rong’s gaze drifted toward the window, growing distant.

"Five hundred years ago, the world was in chaos. The corrupt and incompetent emperor ignored the plague ravaging Xiushan Village. Facing extinction, the local magistrate studied old records and found a way to save the villagers—by crafting a scarecrow shaped like a person, marking it with the villagers’ blood, and casting spells to fool fate and escape the plague."

"So... the scarecrow became your deity?"

Lin Xingshu frowned. As an atheist, he didn’t believe in deities—only human effort. A five-hundred-year-old tale was too distant to verify.

It sounded absurd. Scientifically, the villagers likely survived due to strong constitutions or effective quarantine measures.

"Yes... Does it sound unbelievable to you?"

Lin Xingshu stiffened, then laughed awkwardly, feeling caught. "Well... It’s Xiushan Village’s faith. Though I’m an atheist, I respect your beliefs."

Liu Rong's gaze returned to Lin Xingshu. "Thank you. While you're staying here, please don’t cover this painting. Every household in Xiushan Village must display it. I hope you understand. If it frightens you, you can sleep upstairs—there’s a bed there too."

"Alright, my task is done now that I’ve brought you here. Come to my place for dinner at seven tonight. My house is over there—"

Liu Rong pointed to a small cottage in the distance, then turned to leave. Lin Xingshu thanked her and saw her off, exchanging polite goodbyes.

Another gust of wind blew past. Out of the corner of his eye, Lin Xingshu caught a glimpse of a figure darting through the wheat field not far away. Startled, he instinctively turned toward the field. When he saw what was happening inside, he let out a frightened gasp and grabbed Liu Rong’s sleeve on instinct.

"Sis! Sis! Look! Something just flashed past in the wheat field!"

Liu Rong stumbled from his tug and quickly looked toward the field. "Huh? What thing? There’s nothing there!"

"There was! I just saw a figure dart through the wheat field!"

The wheat swayed like waves on the sea. Lin Xingshu rose on his toes, scanning the distance, but the dark figure was nowhere to be seen.

Liu Rong laughed lightly. "What are you talking about? It’s not harvest season yet. Besides, Liu Yuting’s house is so remote—no one comes here except to harvest wheat. Who’d be out there? You must be seeing things."

She waved dismissively and walked ahead. "No more chit-chat—I’ve got to go cook. See you tonight!"

"Hey! Sis! Sis—!"

Lin Xingshu called after her, but Liu Rong acted as if she hadn’t heard, speeding off like the wind, as though afraid he might follow.

Glancing back at the wheat field, Lin Xingshu felt uneasy. After a moment’s hesitation, he pulled out his weapon, gulped, and cautiously ventured into the field.

The wheat rustled in the wind, the sound growing clearer as he moved through it. The heavy stalks brushed against his cheeks, stinging a little, but he hardly noticed, his eyes fixed ahead.

Suddenly, a tall figure flashed past—wearing a tattered straw hat, its jet-black eyes staring at him through the gaps in the swaying wheat.

Lin Xingshu’s heart pounded. Gritting his teeth, he called out, "Who’s there? Show yourself! Or you’ll regret it!"

"Rustle—"

Only the sound of the wheat answered him.

"Not coming out, huh?"

Clutching his weapon, Lin Xingshu braced himself and lunged forward with his baton raised.

He wasn’t someone to be messed with.

Breathing heavily, he pushed through the dense wheat, letting the wheat stalks lash his face, leaving light red marks on his fair skin. But he didn’t stop.

The shadow flickered ahead again. His gut told him the figure was just up ahead. He raised his arm, ready to strike.

Suddenly, a tall silhouette appeared before him. Lin Xingshu braced himself to lunge forward—but his foot caught on nothing. With a yelp, he tumbled face-first onto the ground.

His knees throbbed, but he ignored the pain, scrambling to his feet—only to lock eyes with a pair of pitch-black orbs. His mind flashed to the ink-dark eyes in the painting. The two gazes seemed to overlap.

His heart lurched. Instinctively, he stumbled back and fell again.

A crow cawed overhead. Slowly, he looked up. A towering figure stood motionless in the wheat field, dressed like a farmer, its straw hat ragged, its body made entirely of straw—except for its face.

That face, crafted from some unknown material, looked eerily lifelike—indistinguishable from a human’s. In fact, it was more handsome and refined than most men’s faces. Lin Xingshu had never seen such a beautiful scarecrow.

Realizing the figure in the field wasn’t a threat, Lin Xingshu exhaled in relief and stood up. In a spiteful jab, he punched the scarecrow’s chest, glared at its handsome face, muttered a curse, then brushed the dirt off his clothes and turned to leave.

*Creak—*

Whether from the wind or not, the scarecrow’s head tilted slightly. It lifted its gaze, its black eyes following Lin Xingshu’s retreating figure. Its smile seemed to grow wider.