The flames had an eerie bluish-purple hue, and their chilling aura seemed to reach directly onto the faces of the audience.

A group of actors playing evil spirits, wearing hideous and terrifying masks, lunged at Lady Qingti from the black smoke.

As it moved, the iron chains wrapped around its body clanged against each other, making a rattling sound that was particularly jarring in the quiet space.

Behind them, some twisted little devils crawled on the ground, occasionally letting out eerie screams.

Just then, two actors dressed as ox-headed and horse-faced demons slowly carried a large pot of boiling oil toward the stage.

The oil in the fryer was bubbling and sizzling, and it seemed as if little ghosts were screaming and howling inside.

Even more bizarrely, as the oil pot was carried onto the stage, the seated villagers all stood up, lined up in neat rows, and walked towards the oil pot with expressionless faces.

I asked the little girl what she was doing.

"You fried dough stick!"

The little girl bit her finger and swallowed hard. "Grandpa Qin said it smells amazing, but I've never had it."

As soon as he finished speaking, the first villager walked up to the oil pot, and without hesitation, jumped into it.

Xiaomi, Jia Qiye, and Yunwei followed behind the villagers, walking forward woodenly, step by step toward the oil pot.

Seeing that they were about to step onto the stage, I couldn't care less about anything else.

He grabbed a heavy wooden stool and smashed it hard against the huge bronze drum on the platform.

"Bang—"

A deafening roar suddenly erupted, like a thunderclap exploding inside the City God Temple.

Everyone stopped moving abruptly.

The next second, everyone slowly turned their heads, their necks twisting behind them at an incredible angle.

He stared at me with those empty eyes.