VESSEL - Extinction Countdown 947: Night Probe of the Desolate Temple

Qian Dani, Chief Dong’s daughter-in-law, was sharp. After Ye Shisan and the crew napped past sunset, the dining hall brimmed with seafood. A five-pound braised yellow croaker shone, alongside a steaming pot of oysters. Qian Dani, with a suggestive tone, said it’d “nourish Boss Shisan.”

Her words landed odd. Yi Qing and You Long’er burst out laughing, while Vanilla, still half-asleep, whined for Ye Shisan to “hug and kiss” her.

Qian Dani slipped out, shaking her head, muttering: “Such a sin! Even that little girl…”

No surprise—during dinner, Ye Shisan was teased by two-and-a-half women.

Full and content, they split tasks: Ye Shisan and You Long’er to probe the temple, Yi Qing on lookout and backup, Vanilla, by all but her own vote, left to stay put.

Not to guardthe house, but to operate Yi Qing’s military-grade drone, its console handling precision tracking, surveillance, and comms, with strike options if needed.

For safety, Yi Qing locked the firepower. One slip from Vanilla, and Touxiang Village might be entirely obliterated.

Plan set, Vanilla pouted as Ye Shisan, Yi Qing, and You Long’er slipped out the window.

City folk can’t grasp mountain nights in villages—pitch-black, where fingers are invisible, tree shadows loom heavily, and faint white mists drift through woods under moonlight. Without a moon, nothing is visible.

Fear’s not in the dark—it’s in your head.

Ye Shisan, raised here, stood unfazed, while You Long’er, despite her bravado, shivered and clung tightly to his arm. Yi Qing, seasoned in scouting yet feeling uneasy, tugged at the climbing rope tied to their waists.

The rope was tied to guard against slips on stairless dirt paths, as climbing hundreds of meters to the mid-mountain temple by headlamp was a daunting task.

Ye Shisan’s memory of the trails held firm, and they stumbled upward to reach the temple’s archway.

Oddly, the small temple, yards off, had a six-meter, two-story archway, now a crumbling ruin, with a lone pillar standing like a flagpole and its tilted plaque in the bushes reading: “Land Temple.”

Ye Shisan and Yi Qing exchanged glances, and after she nodded, he strode toward the ruin with You Long’er clinging closely to his heels.

The temple was half-collapsed. Recent rains had flooded mud inside, yellow-black sludge spilling out the door. They stepped in cautiously. Inside, it was a wreck—filthy, altar and incense toppled, floor caked in muck. The Clay Buddha lay skewed, its head long gouged, back facing them.

Ye Shisan’s eyes hit the couplets flanking the shrine:

Upper: “Five Elements’ Earth is Thick, Thick Virtue Bears Spirit Life.”Lower: “Three Realms’ Paths Deep, Deep Arch Longs for Returners.”

The temple’s signboard was gone, replaced by a tin sheet, scrawled in crooked paint: “Burn Incense with Care, Prevent Fires.”

A night breeze cut through, raising You Long’er’s goosebumps. She scanned for trouble, finding none: “Darling, what’s got you?”

Ye Shisan pointed: “Those couplets weren't here when I was a kid.”

“So? Someone added ‘em later.”

“No. Then came anti-superstition days. The Clay Buddha was hauled out, splashed with paint, whipped, beheaded. Who’d dare carve couplets? That tin sign was added later.”

“Darling, you mean…”

“These couplets aren’t human-made…”

“Don’t spook me!”

Ye Shisan recited the couplets again: “You Long’er, what’s your take on these couplets?”

“Thick earth, deep paths—standard, I've seen elsewhere. As for the rest, the land nurtures spirits, recording their great deeds. It also awaits the return of old souls.”

Ye Shisan nodded. You Long’er, Dragon Gate’s heiress, was a top elite grad.

“Longing for return… doesn’t that sound like me?”

You Long’er drew a sharp, cold breath.

Ye Shisan zeroed on “Arch”—a gate for tombs or shrines to display titles and achievements of the deceased. He left Touxiang at seven and spent decades in an asylum. No big shot—unless it wasn’t him.

Right—the Pseudo-Spirit inside!

You Long’er shivered: “Darling… if you’re right, your grandpa Ye Dongsheng’s words ring true. Something’s waiting. Are we walking into a trap?”

Ye Shisan stood by the fallen headless Buddha, staring silently.

You Long’er pressed: “But this is a Land Temple, not a tomb. ‘Arch’ doesn’t fit.”

He stayed quiet and rigid. A chill shot up You Lulong’er’s spine to her scalp. She stepped closer, whispering: “Darling…”

As Ye Shisan whipped around, You Long’er’s heart stopped in terror.

It wasn’t him.

A figure with a clay head, the lost face of the Clay Buddha, stared back!