Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The sunset bled across the sky, and black crows cawed mournfully.

Paper money, dancing on the mountain wind, shimmered like gold. A strange procession emerged on the ridge: dozens of weasels, clad in long gowns, bore wedding plaques, a bridal sedan, and a dowry, moving with an uncanny human gait. The two weasels leading the way continuously scattered paper money into the air.

On either side, faint shadows flickered, as if vying for something unseen.

Behind this eerie retinue, a lone figure followed.

"Grandfather Weasel, please, just let me go…" Chen Ji, bound by a rope, was led by a dark-yellow weasel at the very end of the procession. Though the rope seemed loosely tied, Chen Ji found himself utterly unable to break free—his entire upper body, save for his head, was immobilized. He forced a fawning smile as he looked at the weasel, which barely reached his calf. "Can’t I just walk on my own?"

The weasel leading him turned its head. Its fur was an unhealthy, dull yellow, the tips of the hair on its head and face bleached white, giving it an ancient appearance. Its small, black, beady eyes flashed with disdain before it snorted and turned back to continue its march.

"Oh no, oh no, why is there something like this here?!" The system inside Chen Ji’s head was equally terrified. "…Are you about to die?!"

"Shut up, you’re giving me a headache," Chen Ji snapped at the system.

He thought to himself: I really should have turned both the system and myself over to the state—even being dissected would be better than this predicament!

But there was no turning back now.

He had been an ordinary office worker, merely a bit run down by the relentless 996 work schedule. Who would have thought that a system would suddenly appear, proclaiming itself a ‘Cultural Relic Protection System,’ and then, through threats and inducements, compel him to quit his job and return to his hometown to inherit the family business—a dilapidated mountain temple.

The mountain temple held no particular significance. Chen Ji’s family had served as temple keepers there since his great-grandfather’s generation. It had been a stable, hereditary position. But by his father’s time, his father had grown weary of the remote, uninhabited deep mountains and left without a backward glance to seek his fortune in the big city. After his grandfather passed away, with no one to take over, the mountain temple naturally fell into disrepair.

It wouldn’t have been a major issue. Chen Ji had some savings and an old, small apartment in the city—enough to live comfortably in the mountains for decades. But as he returned to his hometown, following the familiar mountain paths of his childhood, almost home, he suddenly encountered a procession of weasels. Before he could even register fear, in the blink of an eye, he was bound, with no room left to struggle.

Chen Ji felt utterly wronged by this bizarre situation but was powerless. He continued to plead softly, "Grandfather Weasel, I’m a local too—we’re from the same village! Since your family is celebrating, if you’re taking me to the feast, I can’t possibly go empty-handed! My home is on the mountain…"

The weasels’ music, "Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix," suddenly swelled, precisely drowning out his voice. Chen Ji’s ears ached. How could such small weasels play the suona so loudly?—Wait, weasels playing the suona? That’s beyond ridiculous!

"…Let me go back to get some gifts or a red envelope. How about that?" he continued, enduring the pain.

The old weasel’s eyes gleamed with human-like cunning, staring intently at Chen Ji. Seeing a glimmer of hope, Chen Ji immediately repeated, "My home is at the Mountain Lord Temple. My grandfather was Old Chen. We’re all familiar with each other—how could I possibly lie to you?"

As soon as he finished speaking, the air suddenly fell silent. The music ceased, and all the weasels turned to face him, their black, beady eyes fixed unblinkingly on him. Chen Ji felt an uncontrollable chill creep down his spine, cold sweat pouring in layers down his back. Still, he forced a smile. "I can tell you know him, right? The former temple keeper of the Mountain Lord Temple—I’m his grandson…"

A sudden gust of wind sent paper money swirling wildly, some of it landing on Chen Ji’s face. As he turned his head to shake it off, a massive beast’s face materialized before him. Its gaping maw, slightly ajar, exhaled a foul, rank odor. Its jet-black eyes, larger than fists and devoid of light, stared at him, and Chen Ji could even discern his own reflection within their depths.

The paper money rustled in the wind, and sweat dripped from his forehead into his eyes. The sting was sharp, but Chen Ji didn’t dare blink.

As their gazes locked, the weasel suddenly let out a series of eerie laughs, unnervingly human-like. Chen Ji felt his hair stand on end. The next moment: "Ahhh—!"

Hearing the system’s shriek, Chen Ji snapped back to reality. He bit the tip of his tongue, the sharp pain and taste of blood steadying his nerves. "Stop screaming! Do you have any ideas?"

The system was sobbing hysterically. "What can I do? I’m just a weak, helpless system. How could there be something so terrifying here…?"

Great, Chen Ji once again confirmed that this useless thing wouldn't be any help.

The giant weasel took a step back, finally sparing Chen Ji from the direct assault of its foul breath. He smiled ingratiatingly. "You know, my grandfather had plenty of valuable things. Since your family is celebrating, let me go back and pick out a couple of nice items to add to the festivities…"

The white whiskers on the weasel’s snout twitched. Chen Ji wasn’t sure what it meant but pressed on, desperately trying to recall what treasures his grandfather had. After all, as a temple keeper, he remembered villagers coming to his grandfather with strange illnesses that hospitals couldn’t cure. His grandfather seemed to know how to call back lost souls and exorcise ghosts…

"Ah, remember? My grandfather had a soul-summoning bell—it worked wonders. Whenever a child in the village lost their soul, my grandfather would ring it, and they’d wake up. How about that?" Chen Ji said in a flattering tone. "If that’s not to your liking, there are also the prayer beads he always used. They’ve been blessed with incense—perfect for warding off evil…"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Chen Ji knew he’d misspoken. What was in front of him? It was the very "evil" he was talking about! The "evil" that needed to be exorcised! Before he could correct himself, he saw the weasel’s lips curl into a ferocious grin—a sight enough to give anyone nightmares. Chen Ji preemptively shouted in his mind, "Don’t scream!"

The system’s scream caught in its throat—if it had one.

Chen Ji’s heart tightened. "Take whatever you want! Take it all!"

The weasel maintained its grotesque and terrifying expression, as if it might tear him to shreds at any moment. Chen Ji put on a pitiful, humble smile. "Grandfather Weasel, I don’t know much about these things. I’m not sure what’s good. How about you let me go? I’ll go back and bring everything I have to you! If I’m the one fetching them, the Mountain Lord won’t be angry, right?"

If weasels could become spirits and try to eat him, then it stood to reason that the Mountain Lord existed in the mountain temple! Whether it was true or not, Chen Ji decided to bluff—better to try than not.

The eerie laughter continued. The weasel spirit seemed to be laughing in furious anger—or perhaps satisfaction. Chen Ji couldn’t tell. Suddenly, the weasel opened its gaping mouth and lunged at his head!

Chen Ji instinctively closed his eyes. But instead of the expected pain, he heard a sharp "Squeak—!" followed by what sounded like countless beasts wailing in agony. The oppressive terror vanished in an instant. Chen Ji twisted sideways, falling to the ground as a sharp, whistling noise rushed toward him!

"Ding—!"

"Ah—!" The next moment, Chen Ji sat up abruptly in bed, drenched in cold sweat, staring wide-eyed at his familiar yet unfamiliar bedroom. The sound of his pounding heart echoed in his ears. Gasping for air, he fumbled for his glasses and reached for his phone nearby.

The warm glow of the screen calmed him slightly. He checked the time: 3:30 a.m.

"Yawn—" The system let out a big yawn in his mind. "Chen Ji, had a nightmare? Your heart rate hit 160. Be careful of a heart attack~"

Chen Ji wiped the sweat from his forehead with the blanket, realizing he was soaked as if he’d been thrown in water. "Were you sleeping just now?"

He knew it was most likely a dream—weasels holding a wedding, and one even growing over two meters tall? The memory of the weasel’s grin still made his hands tremble. He reached for some medicine and placed it under his tongue. The bitter taste spread in his mouth.

"Obviously," the system said lazily. "You’re 26 years old, and you’re still scared of nightmares? Don’t worry, go back to sleep. We have a big project tomorrow…"

Something heavy dropped into Chen Ji’s arms. He stared in shock at the suddenly appearing orange-and-white tabby cat. The system’s voice grew faint. "Forget it, hold me tight and go to sleep… So sleepy…"

Chen Ji was silent for a moment. He lifted the cat by its paws, turning it over to examine it. It had a very traditional coat, with two yellow spots near its mouth, making it look like a mustachioed officer.

Quietly, he tucked the tabby cat into his arms and held it tightly.

That dream was too terrifying.

He resolved in his heart: Tomorrow, tomorrow he must…

***

The next day.

Chen Ji placed a freshly made milk tea, some particularly delicious cream buns, and a bowl of steaming hot self-heating hotpot from Haidilao on the worn-out altar. He lit three sticks of incense, knelt before the statue of Grandfather Mountain, and bowed devoutly.

"Grandfather Mountain, please protect me. Though I often have nightmares, I’d rather not have another like yesterday’s."

He looked up at the faded statue, picked up the equally worn divination blocks beside it, repeated his question three times in his heart, then clasped his hands together and tossed the blocks.

One landed face up, the other face down—a sacred result.

Chen Ji let out a long sigh of relief and murmured, "So you like Xiangpiao? I’ll buy two more boxes and let you try all the flavors…"

Up in these mountains, there was no one around.

Otherwise, he’d definitely order Grandfather Mountain two cups of avocado and almond milkshakes to try.