Ling Ji glanced at the blood-soaked rag, snapped her fingers, and a flame appeared, incinerating it instantly, leaving no trace of ash.

At that moment, a man's voice shouted from outside the temple, "There's a temple here, and someone inside. Let's check it out."

Ling Ji saw the intruders who interrupted her midnight snack, frowned, and vanished.

Bai Luan instinctively turned to the statue behind her. Its rough lines and cold expression remained unchanged.

"Captain, found someone here," a young policeman in uniform called out, pushing open the door and wiping rain from his face, smiling back at his companions.

Through the dim candlelight, Bai Luan saw the group behind him: ten men, two women, and a fifteen-year-old girl staring at her with a complex expression.

"System, did I fail this mission?" Jiang Lingyan asked, but received no response.

Calling again, the usually prompt system remained silent, making her uneasy.

Fortunately, the police acted methodically. Some attended to Bai Luan, others questioned the elderly man and young boy, while others crouched by the unconscious thin man.

Jiang Lingyan took a moment to collect herself. Lingyan, don't rush. Follow the plan. This life is different from the last.

The body Ling Ji had thrown near He Kun was discovered by police the next day. Despite thorough searches, they found no clues.

"Chief, last night's heavy rain washed away all traces. We'll have to take the body back for an autopsy," said Zhao Jiong, squatting beside the water-swollen corpse with wide, terrified eyes.

He rubbed his stubbled chin, eyes deep with thought. "Pack it up."

The bullets in their bodies matched the gun found with the first corpse, and except for some old wounds, there were no new marks. The killer's method was efficient and deadly.

"Is Liu Xiao'er awake?" Zhao Jiong asked. According to the abducted girl's statement, there were seven pursuers; six lay here, leaving Liu Xiao'er as their only lead.

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"He's awake," a young officer said, holding his phone with a strange expression. "But he's gone mad."

"Mad?" Zhao Jiong raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Yes," the handsome young officer replied, dejected. "He keeps begging for mercy from the mountain deity and bowing to empty air, sobbing uncontrollably."

"And the old man and the boy?" Zhao Jiong continued. "Still know nothing?"

"The old man's testimony hasn't changed, but the boy let something slip."

"What did he say?" Zhao Jiong's eyes narrowed like a predator sensing prey.

The young officer hesitated, then spoke with a subtle tone. "He said they were punished by the mountain deity."

"Do you think there are gods?" Zhao Jiong paused, smirking as he glanced back. "What do you think? Didn't you learn anything in your Marxism classes? Want to retake them?"

The young officer shook his head vigorously, unwilling to repeat his arduous training.

Back in Xianmiao Village, Zhao Jiong checked on Liu Xiao'er at the village chief's house and found him incoherent and insane. They cuffed him and prepared to transport him to the hospital for treatment and to face justice for his crimes. Law and justice are never absent due to illness.

"Xiao Bai, Grandpa, I'm leaving," Bai Luan said, standing in the car and bidding farewell to the Mu family. "I promise to keep my word when I return and will also donate to support the children of Xianmiao Village."

Mu Lin, usually calm, was moved to tears, gripping Bai Luan's hand. "Are you serious, my dear?"

"Yes," Bai Luan nodded firmly. Her family was wealthy, and she was set to inherit the business after her graduation trip, so supporting a village was no issue.

Mu Lin was touched, calling her "good girl" repeatedly.

Mu Bai, too young to grasp the full significance of her words, felt the sadness of parting. "Sister Bai, safe travels. I'll miss you."

Bai Luan ruffled his hair and got into the car. The police drove off, kicking up dust as Mu Bai and his grandfather watched them disappear.

"Grandpa, why don't they believe in the mountain deity?" Mu Bai asked, looking towards the temple.

Mu Lin sighed, gazing at the temple. "Because their hearts aren't sincere, they can't see the deity and thus don't believe."

Mu Bai, still puzzled, asked, "Grandpa, the deity seemed unhappy when she left. Was it because the policemen weren't sincere?"

Mu Lin winced, thinking she left because she was hungry. He patted Mu Bai's head. "Yes, so you must always be sincere."

Mu Bai nodded earnestly. "I promise to serve the mountain deity faithfully. I can already farm and sometimes catch rabbits and pheasants. I'll provide offerings."

Mu Lin, hearing this, felt a sense of relief and was moved to tears.

Years later, Mu Bai would look at his meager bank balance and cry out, "Grandpa, you really set me up!"

---

Ten years later, on July 7th, a young soldier in camouflage, drenched in mud, clutched a child while standing on a tree amid a raging flood in Fengchuan County.

"Are we going to die?" the boy asked, tears streaming down his face, his voice trembling. "Maybe you should leave me. I can find my parents."

The young soldier's eyes reddened. "Don't be silly. I won't abandon you."

"But," the boy whispered, "if we stay, we'll both die."

A crack echoed as the tree branch began to break, but the roar of the flood drowned it out. Neither noticed the red figure silently approaching.

---

Miles away in Xianmiao Village, Mu Lin hurried up the mountain with a basket of buns, his eyes full of panic. Entering the temple, he placed the buns on the altar and took out an ancient copper bell, shaking it twice.

If Mu Bai were here, he would notice the bell was identical to the one the mountain deity wore.

"Jingle, jingle," the bell's clear sound filled the temple as Mu Lin called urgently, "Mountain deity, I need your help!"

A sleepy voice responded from the altar. "What is it?"

Mu Lin saw a girl in black with two buns on her head, munching on buns. Her appearance reassured him, and he wiped his sweat. "My grandson, Bai, is in danger. Please save him."

Ling Ji paused, stuffing the remaining buns into her mouth, her cold eyes full of self-mockery. "You know I can't leave Fengling Mountain."

Mu Lin, reminded of her plight, turned pale and fell to the ground, clutching his grandson's life plaque. The jade piece was cracked, almost split in two.

"Bai," he cried, his voice hoarse and filled with despair.

Ling Ji quietly clenched her fists, her small white face icy cold.

One, just one more to go.

Mu Bai, you must be strong.

---