Is that old Sun's family, the one living right beside the village committee office?

As Su Chen and Zhao Dongsheng conversed, Zhang Ming strained his ears to listen. Upon hearing they were heading to Qingshan Village, his eyes lit up, and without showing it, he quickly set off. “Let’s go,” he said, walking alongside them. “Captain Lin, are you coming with us?”

Lin Jingchun gave a nervous laugh. “No, no need. We... still need to wait for a contact.”

Contacts, my foot.

Since they were all from the police force, everyone tacitly understood the truth.

Zhang Ming raised his hand in a wave. “Come by for tea sometime.”

Once Zhang Ming and his team had left, Lin Jingchun finally turned to Su Chen.

“Master…”

“Go ahead.”

Lin Jingchun’s eyes brightened as he nodded repeatedly. “Then we’ll head off first.”

Zhao Dongsheng watched Lin Jingchun and Amin descend the mountain and couldn’t help but scratch his head in puzzlement.

What was Captain Lin doing, going up and down the mountain like that?

He looked up and met Su Chen’s clear gaze.

“Today, we didn’t see them.”

“...Huh?”

Zhao Dongsheng was momentarily stunned before catching on. “Oh, I get it.”

“Let’s go.”

Having dealt with the malevolent spirit halfway up the mountain, Su Chen was in no rush to continue. Spotting unfamiliar plants by the roadside, he examined them with interest, plucking leaves to taste before moving on.

Zhao Dongsheng’s sharp eyes frequently spotted wild fruits among the shrubs—wild kumquats and black rice berries. The former was sweet and sour, the latter stained the mouth black, as if poisonous.

Su Chen sampled a few; the taste was quite pleasant.

“I didn’t expect Longshan to have these. Back home, these would probably be picked clean by October. When my parents and uncles went to chop wood in the mountains, they’d always bring some back.”

Zhao Dongsheng sighed as he reflected. “They’re all old now. Not just the mountain, even rainy days bring aches and pains.”

“Rheumatism.”

“Yeah. I took them to see doctors. Years ago, no warm clothes, and they had to work the sea and fields. No wonder they got rheumatism. Despite seeing many doctors, nothing helped. I bought ointments to apply, but they complained about the cost and refused to use them…”

Su Chen smiled. “When we get back, I’ll brew some medicinal wine. You can bring it home for them to drink. It should ease their pain.”

“Really? Thank you so much, Master.”

“No need. I’m making it for my family anyway—just doing it on the side.”

With this in mind, Su Chen deliberately began searching for useful herbs along the way. Seeing him gather so many, Zhao Dongsheng drew a small knife from his leg, cut thin bamboo strips, and quickly wove a basket.

“Master, it’s not much to look at, but it should do, right?”

Su Chen gave a thumbs-up.

By the time they reached Qingshan Village, Zhang Ming and his team had already covered most of it. Unfortunately, when asking around about the poppy fruit, everyone shook their heads. Some curiously examined the fruit, asking what it was used for.

Used for what?

To lead us into a hail of bullets.

Zhang Ming was a bit disappointed when he saw Zhao Dongsheng carrying a large basket alongside Su Chen as they approached the ancient banyan tree at the village entrance.

The tree was at least a century old, with a trunk about three meters in diameter and sprawling branches that shaded the entire local earth shrine beside it.

Zhang Ming sent his men to continue inquiries and jogged over.

“Old Zhao, why are you just arriving?”

Zhao Dongsheng bent down to show him the basket brimming with herbs. “Master picked some along the way, so we’re late.”

“You and your mouth…”

“Heh, blame the black rice berries.”

Zhang Ming rubbed his forehead. “How old are you? Still eating that stuff?”

“Mind your own business!”

Zhao Dongsheng smirked and nodded toward the village. “Captain Zhang, any results from your questions?”

Zhang Ming shook his head.

“I’d say the elders probably don’t know. Some have never even been to the city, let alone understand this. Maybe ask if there are any young people working away or returning from illegal crossings.”

Zhang Ming rolled his eyes. “We already asked. None.”

“Alright, Captain Zhang, you have the experience. I won’t nag. I’ll just stick with the Master.”

They all turned to Su Chen, who was squinting, looking up at the banyan tree’s branches. A large limb was visibly broken.

“An elder said that a few months ago, lightning struck the tree, breaking off a branch.”

Zhang Ming sighed. “I don’t think this tree will survive.”

“Won’t survive? How’s that possible? The leaves are all green.”

Zhang Ming looked at him as if he were an idiot. “You see green now, but in time they’ll all turn yellow.”

“When I was assigned to a rural village, there was a big banyan there too. It was struck by lightning during a storm. The broken branch was smaller than this, and we thought it was fine, but six months later, it withered and died.”

Zhao Dongsheng scratched his head. “I thought as long as the tree isn’t cut, burned, or infested, it should be okay.”

“Not at all. Bamboo dies after it flowers. Trees die when they reach a certain age too.”

Just then, Su Chen spoke.

“No, they undergo trials. They must survive these ordeals to continue living.”

They both looked as Su Chen reached up to touch the horizontal branch overhead.

His gaze then fell on the burning incense, eyes full of astonishment.

This world truly was different.

Though the tree seemed lush and green, it was permeated with an aura of death that was evident to the eye.

Yet this single incense stick, emitting fragrant smoke that seeped into the trunk, had sparked a patch of green that was clearly growing. Su Chen believed that by next year, it would break through the trunk and be reborn.

Truly miraculous.

Faith in this world seemed potent.

Just one stick of incense could do so much.

He then entered the earth shrine.

Inside, it was cold and empty. The incense burner held many incense roots—far more than outside the banyan tree. The statues of the Earth God and Earth Mother stood, but Su Chen could sense no divine presence.

He frowned.

In Cuicheng, earth deities were worshipped everywhere, even more commonly than the Purple Maiden. How was it that none of these statues seemed to harbor any spirit?

There was an earth deity shrine in Niuwai Village as well, beside the mountain path to the town. Su Chen had carefully sensed it over the past few days, but found nothing.

Could there be too many earth shrines? Did the earth gods rarely manifest?

Or were true deities unwilling to inhabit statues?

Or perhaps only sincere faith could attract divine favor?

From the original owner’s memories, Su Chen knew that while most villagers worshipped the Earth God, it had become a mere formality. They made offerings during festivals, but did so perfunctorily.

The original owner was no different—lighting incense, bowing three times, then leaving, often not even looking at the statue.

If they treated the Earth God this way, the banyan tree would fare no better.

That incense stick...

Su Chen asked an elder near the shrine and learned that a child in the village had "adopted" the banyan tree as a godparent.

“That kid, Goudan, has it rough. His father went south to work last year and only sent money once. No one’s seen him. His mother gave birth this year, but the baby had a fever through the confinement period. In desperation, the Sun family brought the child to adopt the banyan tree as a godparent.”

Zhao Dongsheng and Zhang Ming came over and overheard.

“It really works. Ever since Goudan adopted the tree as his godmother, the fevers subsided, and he’s grown plump and healthy this past year. Unfortunately, his mother couldn’t endure it—she ran off a few months ago. No one can find her at her parents’ home.”

“At the time, some cruel people kept telling Goudan he had no mother. The little boy cried and couldn’t be comforted. The Suns thought of the godmother tree, brought incense and food, and after worshipping, the boy calmed down.”

“That tree was struck by lightning, right? They feared the godmother would be lost, so every morning, noon, and night, they light incense. Old Sun often comes to check, afraid kids might pull the incense away and something might happen to Goudan.”

Su Chen understood.

Cuicheng had a custom of adopting godparents, often choosing living things like giant stones, trees, or wells.

Sun family’s actions were not unusual.

Su Chen and Zhao Dongsheng were indifferent, but Zhang Ming frowned deeply.

“Old Sun family? Uncle, is that the Old Sun family living near the village committee?”

“That can’t be. We asked if any young people in that family went out to work, and they said no.”