Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Interrogation

The cave behind the stone tablet was not very large; after entering, it did not take long to reach the end. Inside, there were only two headless stone figures and a stone horse, about as tall as a person.

I glanced briefly at the edge of the cave and spotted a piece of white cloth fallen in the corner.

Had someone hung white silk here?

This was a mourning tent!

It finally dawned on me why the key to open the funerary chest had been placed here. It turned out the Horse-Hiding Cave was part of the funerary hall itself.

According to folk custom, before a coffin is buried, all paper offerings are placed in a corner of the funerary hall. Among these, the horse is an indispensable element, always positioned beside the coffin.

If my guess was correct, the Horse-Hiding Cave existed parallel to the ancient tomb behind the temple mountain—meaning the tomb served as the funerary hall, and the cave housed the horses prepared for the deceased.

Many people assume that the only paper offerings at a funeral are the paper horse and the figures of boys and girls, with the boy leading the horse. In fact, that is merely the simplified version for ordinary folk. In the past, for wealthy families, the full set of offerings included carts, horses, boats, palanquins, each accompanied by paper figures—coachmen, horsemen, boatmen, palanquin bearers—none could be absent.

The two stone figures in the cave were the horsemen. But where had their heads gone?

As I examined the broken necks of the stone figures by torchlight, I was struck fiercely from behind. The blow did not knock me unconscious, but it sent me sprawling to the ground.

The village chief was the first to pounce on me. “Quick, hold him down!”

Three or four villagers pressed me firmly to the floor.

No matter how skilled a person is, when pinned to the ground, if their limbs are restrained, they are easily subdued, unable even to stand.

Another villager produced a rope, tying my hands and feet, then tossed me to the side of the cave.

The village chief came over and said, “Child, let me be honest with you. That Autumn Frost isn’t a wolf, it’s a horse—a man-eating horse. Only those two horsemen can keep it under control.”

“Later, someone smashed the stone tablet that held the horse at bay and knocked off the horsemen’s heads. Autumn Frost escaped and was reincarnated, which brought disaster to our village.”

“When the Taoist arrived at the Horse-Hiding Cave, he immediately sensed something was amiss. He said only the two horsemen could suppress Autumn Frost. But since their heads were missing, new ones had to be provided.”

He continued, “I’ll put some food in front of you. Child, for the sake of everyone in the village, bear this hardship. Once you subdue Autumn Frost, I’ll burn plenty of paper offerings for you, so you may be reincarnated into a good family.”

Now, I finally understood the timeline here. Back then, the second leader from Qingfeng, in his quest for the key to the treasure chest, broke open the Horse-Hiding Cave and released Autumn Frost.

Autumn Frost, gravely wounded, was reincarnated in the village. When she later transformed into a monster, villagers summoned a Taoist to reseal the cave. However, the Taoist did not use orthodox methods. Instead, he restarted the two horsemen by replacing their heads with those of living people.

Such black magic only works temporarily. After a while, another head must be cut off to renew the stone figures.

No villager wished to volunteer their own head, so the chief allowed Autumn Frost to kill as she pleased.

The chief finished speaking, then turned and kowtowed three times to the others. “Gentlemen, our village has come to this. Unless one of us dies, Autumn Frost can’t be contained. Soon, we’ll draw lots for life and death. Whoever is chosen must not flinch. If you save the village, the rest of us will take care of your family.”

His words stunned everyone.

Someone muttered, “Uncle, weren’t we supposed to go up the mountain to fight the ghost? How did it become a sacrifice?”

The chief replied, “She’s a ghost! Who among us can fight her? Even the Taoist, so powerful, ended up cutting off his own head to save the village.”

“I have no other choice!”

“I’ll prepare the lots now. I’ll draw with you. If I’m chosen, I’ll show you what to do. Remember my words: if Autumn Frost ever returns, you must save the village this way.”

The remaining villagers all looked at one another, speechless.

Hu Sanqi once told me that, when confronted with life and death, people are either extremely clear-headed or utterly blank, doing whatever they’re told. You could even ask someone to dig their own grave, and they’d comply.

Only those who can stay lucid and think in a crisis deserve to survive.

The villagers were already blank-minded. If they drew the fatal lot, I’d be utterly powerless.

Seizing the moment as the chief was about to stand, I spoke up, “Chief, why don’t you tell them the truth?”

He spun around, eyes fierce, “Shut your mouth.”

I smiled pleasantly. “No need to glare at me. You won’t dare to kill me. Don’t think I don’t know—unless the person whose head is cut off is willing, the ritual won’t work.”

“If the victim dies resentful, another murderous ghost will be born.”

“You want to cut off my head and put it on the stone figure?”

The chief’s attitude immediately softened. “Child, I beg you, for the sake of our hundred-plus villagers, endure this. When your uncle comes, we won’t let you suffer—we’ll even sell all we have to raise money, so your parents can live well.”

I sneered. “Don’t bother with those words. I’ll tell you one thing: I don’t want to die.”

As the chief started to speak, I interrupted, “Explain everything to me. Maybe there’s a way to save the village without cutting off anyone’s head.”

The chief stamped his foot. “Why don’t you understand? Even that great Taoist could only save us by decapitating himself. Are you more capable than him?”

“Perhaps I am,” I replied.

“If you drag your feet any longer and Autumn Frost returns, we won’t have time for anything.”

At this, the remaining villagers, desperate for hope, all urged the chief.

I watched as the chief was surrounded, a cold smile curling at my lips.

None of these villagers wanted to die. Give them a chance, and they’ll try anything to survive. If I don’t force the chief, they will.

My life, for now, was spared.

Finally, the chief relented. “My mind is a mess right now. Ask me whatever you want to know.”