The village is small, with about forty or fifty households.

If you shout from the east end of the village, you can hear it clearly from the west end.

Although the ancestral hall was small, it surprised Zuo Ling; it was actually an ancient ancestral hall! Its age was not discernible.

Judging from its design, it's at least several hundred years old.

Upon entering, there are three windows on each side, and inside the shrine are three bodhisattvas, one large and two small.

It's not Guanyin, it's not Buddha, what is it? I don't know.

The Buddha's body was covered in mottled paint, making his already unremarkable face even more eerie and difficult to discern.

The brackets, beams, eaves, and even the Bodhisattva statue were covered in a thick layer of dust.

The only clean thing was the offering table with the incense burner on it.

Beneath the altar, three dirty and tattered prayer cushions have accompanied the Bodhisattva for countless years.

Apart from that, there is nothing else.

There are three side rooms on each side of the main ancestral hall.

Apart from the main hall's windows, which are still relatively intact, the side rooms' windows are missing pieces here and there.

The courtyard is very large, more than enough to accommodate the entire village.

The courtyard wall was damaged and had been repaired, but it couldn't withstand even a slightly strong wind.

The ancestral hall is where villagers discuss important matters and worship their ancestors.

The dilapidated state of the village clearly indicates that the villagers are not living a good life.

The person who brought Zuo Ling said:

"It's not cold, so choose a side room to stay in. Don't touch the main house."

After giving his instructions, he turned and left.

Zuo Ling looked back at the main ancestral hall; the gate was open and unlocked.

The secret passage—what a careless thing to do! Not wanting anyone to touch it, and not even locking the door.

In the city, this would be unbelievable.

People with a strong sense of security would love to have three more doors outside their main gate.

After waiting for a while, no one came.

Sigh. If they don't want to come, they don't want to come.

If you have the opportunity to see the Bodhisattvas up close, of course you should pay your respects.

I strolled into the main ancestral hall.

When you come to someone else's territory, it would be impolite not to offer incense.

If there's no incense, kowtow instead.

Zuo Ling bowed deeply.

In her past life, she didn't believe in ghosts and gods; in this second life, she does.

He prayed with extreme devotion, muttering incantations:

"Passing through this blessed land, I am grateful to the Bodhisattva for sheltering me. I apologize for disturbing the Bodhisattva's peace. I am not an antique dealer; please have the Bodhisattva chat with the villagers..."

She wanted to say something more, but fearing that the Bodhisattva would find her annoying, she kept quiet.

He carefully examined the Bodhisattva.

The one on the left is thin, with a sunken face, bald, and wearing a large string of beads around his neck. The color of his robe has faded to an earthy hue.

The one on the right has her hair piled high in a bun, with a hairpin inserted horizontally on the top of her head. She wears a Taoist robe, which is blue and gray.

The one in the middle is standing on auspicious clouds, with one hand raised in a delicate gesture, the index finger pointing to the sky, and the other hand supporting her from the side.

Even disregarding her appearance, she certainly has an ethereal, otherworldly quality.

Zuo Ling looked up curiously and discovered that there was another secret in the room.

The Bodhisattva in the middle has the sky above his head.

The dome is so high that the damage isn't too severe, and the colors remain beautiful.

I looked at it for a long time, but I couldn't figure it out.

My gaze shifted downwards, and my eyes were involuntarily drawn to the Bodhisattva's eyes.

Upon closer inspection, it appears as if it has been sucked into a vortex.

My head buzzed, and a sharp pain, like a thousand needles piercing my brain, struck.

My blood surged, my vision went black, and a metallic taste rose from my throat.

Zuo Ling forced herself to swallow the fishy-sweet taste.

No, the Bodhisattva's eyes are faulty.