When they saw the white lanterns hanging inside and outside the shrine, they seemed to be prepared and walked in with their heads down.

The shrine was brightly lit throughout the night.

There are no other outsiders here tonight. Except for Granny Gro, they are all respected members of the Youchi clan.

They listened quietly to Granny Gro's story, each with a heavy heart.

Finally, several of the oldest representatives emerged from the crowd.

These old men had white hair, beards and eyebrows, and some of them even used canes and walked unsteadily.

"Lord Gro." The voice was excited and sincere, as if hot tears were slowly flowing.

"We feel guilty and ashamed, unable to repay you... Since you entered this shrine 67 years ago, you have diligently worked for decades, supporting our Youchi clan, guiding planting, curing ailments, planning the seasons, regulating dragon veins, and warding off demons."

"I don't want you to be in old age. Not only have we failed to let you enjoy your life, but we have to come to this point..." Several of them knelt down sadly and bowed before the witch.

As these elders from the Youchi clan knelt down, others also prostrated themselves on the ground one after another, and there was no longer any standing figure in the shrine hall.

The candles in the hall burned fiercely, and the dazzling candlelight illuminated the old man sitting at the top.

At this moment, she seemed to be excited, breathing tremblingly, slowly raised her hand and put it down, then closed her eyes.

"This is all I can do. I hope you won't hate me in the future." With that, the voice faded away.

As dawn approached, the elders of the Youchi clan left one by one. Soon after, sounds of crying, quarreling, and oppressive silence were heard from every household in the valley.

The Youchi clan has always given people the impression of wearing black clothes and using black cloth, but today white cloth appeared in the valley.

Every household began to make white lanterns and make snow-white coats.

As night falls, lanterns hang from the eaves of the shrine, forming a line that spreads out to the surrounding areas and into the valley.

One by one, the candles in the lanterns burned, and as the hanging ropes swayed slightly in the air, a long corridor was formed in the dark valley leading directly to the shrine.

The candles, which I used to be reluctant to waste and used sparingly, were pulled out from the bottom of the box tonight. On both sides of the street stood members of the Youchi clan, dressed in black. Their pale faces were illuminated by the warm light as they stood quietly.

One after another, the special Youchi people walked out of their homes. They all wore white coats that were different from others, and covered their faces with white cloth, so that only the peripheral light of their feet could be seen.

Most of these people are between 20 and 40 years old, which is the healthiest and most agile time of their lives.

In the peaceful and silent valley, the sound of drums began to be heard. The sound was deep and slow, like an ensemble in ancient sacrifices and ceremonies.

An ancient, intricate ballad slowly rose from the deep valley. Following the elders of their tribe, they chanted the language of the ancient land of demons. Their distant voices seemed to carry with them an endless sense of vicissitudes and sadness.

And tonight, the border troops of the Plantagenet Dynasty were isolated outside, silently watching the group of Youchi people dressed in white slowly cross the street, step by step towards the open space in front of the shrine where rows of lanterns were hung.

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P.S. There will be music at the end of the article. You can click on it in the comment section of the Qidian app to listen to it. (Highly recommended)