deltrittennovels #614 - Chapter 614
#614 - Chapter 614
A stir rippled through the room, a low murmur like an undertow surged through the air, and Tang Yin could clearly hear those subtle yet grating sounds.
"What is he thinking?"
"The person to be hanged has already been decided."
These voices rose and fell, like countless tiny needles piercing Tang Yin's eardrums. His fingers involuntarily clenched the hem of his clothes, the tips turning slightly white. He knew that the moment this vote was cast, all eyes would become more complex, even revealing undisguised hostility.
This approach was subtle, or rather, a self-damaging "kill one thousand, lose eight hundred." Tang Yin knew that his choice had pushed him to the edge of a cliff.
"Perhaps, when striving for Zhao Gang's support in the future, he might be able to win by surprise..."
This thought flashed through his mind, but it was shattered by an even stronger sense of unease.
--Damn it, will it really work?
He gritted his teeth, his breathing slightly rapid, his heart pulled like a tightly stretched string. It was like walking a tightrope, every step suspended between life and death. However, he had a bad feeling—if this vote went to someone else, perhaps he wouldn't see the sun tomorrow.
"What do you mean, Tang Yin?"
Zhao Gang's voice suddenly rang out, low and suppressed, yet like a muffled thunder, instantly shattering Tang Yin's nerves. He raised his head, his gaze meeting Zhao Gang's, a gaze filled with deep anger and doubt, like a knife, stabbing straight into his chest.
At this moment, he had to answer cautiously.
Tang Yin took a deep breath, trying to keep his tone calm, even though his heart was churning: "...I wanted to protect you."
As soon as these words left his mouth, Zhao Gang's expression froze instantly. A flash of surprise crossed his eyes, but it was immediately followed by anger. Intense anger.
"Just like Sister Chen Xiang and Wang Lina? Your reason." Zhao Gang's voice was low but cold, each word like a stone pressing on Tang Yin's shoulders, heavy and suffocating.
"That's all I have to say." Tang Yin said softly, avoiding Zhao Gang's gaze.
"Huh!?" Zhao Gang suddenly raised his voice, his fists clenched, seeming as if he would swing at any moment.
But Tang Yin knew that more words were useless. He needed to create a sense of incongruity in Zhao Gang's mind, a lingering confusion, allowing these words to linger in Zhao Gang's heart. Then, just end today's "banquet" like this.
Of course, he was also mentally prepared to be beaten up by Zhao Gang.
The scene became awkward for a moment, and Tang Yin braced himself and remained silent, only feeling Zhao Gang's gaze burning him like flames.
At this moment, Xia Hui spoke coldly, her voice filled with determination: "...It's my turn, no need to explain, I vote for Granny Rong."
Gao Zhijie's voice followed, low and icy, like a death knell ringing out: "It's decided."
With this sentence, everyone stood up, as if driven by some invisible force. But Tang Yin and Xia Hui were a step behind. They looked at each other, the heaviness in their hearts almost suffocating them.
Every Bai Feng Village person's expression was completely different from before, their faces revealing coldness and numbness, as if they had accepted some cruel fate.
"Hua Lu, go get the rope." Gao Zhijie's voice was still cold and ruthless.
"...Okay." Hua Lu nodded, turned and left, her footsteps light but carrying a suffocating sense of oppression.
Gao Zhijie slowly turned his head, his gaze like solidified frost, his tone frighteningly calm: "Zhao Gang, pour Granny Rong some wine."
Zhao Gang's fingers trembled slightly, as if struck in the heart by this sentence. He looked at Granny Rong, his lips moved a few times, and he barely squeezed out a voice: "...Granny."
Granny Rong raised her head, her eyes gentle, with a calmness that saw through life and death. She smiled gently, her voice slightly hoarse, but still warm: "...You were very disobedient and naughty when you were young."
She seemed to be reminiscing about something, the fine lines around her eyes slightly stretching with her smile: "Once you've decided on something, you won't turn back even if you hit a brick wall. But you really are a very kind child... and still are now."
Zhao Gang's eyes gradually turned red, his breathing became rapid, his voice trembling slightly: "Granny, I've always, treated you as my, own grandmother..."
His voice choked, almost unable to continue speaking, tears dripping down: "...You are my, real, family..."
Granny Rong looked at him, the smile on her face did not waver in the slightest, but became even gentler: "Don't cry, we will meet again by the side of the Thousand-Ming God."
Her voice was soft but firm, like some unquestionable promise. After speaking, she smiled slightly, raised her wine glass, and drained it in one gulp. The wine dripped down the corners of her mouth, she put down the cup, and actively put her hands behind her back, her movements crisp and neat, without hesitation.
"Excuse me." Hua Lu said softly, stepping forward. The rope in her hand wrapped around Granny Rong's shoulders twice, and then tied her hands behind her back. This was the minimum restraint, but it was enough. Granny Rong remained motionless, calmly accepting all of this, as if it were just part of some ritual.
In the dim assembly hall, the atmosphere became even heavier. Emotions surged like a tide, lament, regret, depression, countless complex emotions intertwined, filling every corner. Sobbing, groaning, trembling throats, and the rustling of clothes, rose and fell, as if weaving a sad elegy.
Tang Yin stood aside, watching the scene before him, a nameless chill rising in his heart. The whole scene was like a group of kind relatives surrounding an old person who had died peacefully in their sleep, seeing her off. However, Tang Yin knew that this was not a send-off, but an execution.
He turned his head to look at Xia Hui. Xia Hui stood in place, her lips constantly trembling, as if she wanted to say something, but no sound came out. Her eyes were wide, her gaze full of disbelief and hidden anger, muttering something. Tang Yin seemed to be able to read her lips: "You're all crazy... crazy..."
To be honest, Tang Yin felt the same way.
...
The procession slowly passed through the thick fog, heading towards the cemetery. Everyone lowered their heads, their steps heavy, as if even the air had become viscous, suffocating. It was unknown who started humming a low ballad first. The singing was soft and suppressed, as if awakening from ancient memories. Subsequently, more people joined in the humming, the sound echoing in the fog, like a faint lament from the depths of the earth.
Tang Yin didn't know who started singing, nor did he know when this ballad had been passed down. But at this moment, this procession was like an ancient funeral procession, walking on the paths in the fog, slowly but firmly.
However, this was not a funeral. This was an execution.
To clean up the mess, Tang Yin had walked this road countless times. On the several hundred meters of road leading to the God's Valley, the sound of footsteps was swallowed by the thick fog, and the procession moved forward slowly. The surroundings were silent, only the moist smell of soil and the dew-soaked weeds rubbing against their feet, making a slight rustling sound. Those low ballads still floated in their ears, and at some point, Tang Yin and Xia Hui also began to hum along, their voices so soft that they were almost inaudible.
Finally, they arrived.
Before them was a field overgrown with weeds, dew hanging on the tips of the grass blades, shimmering with faint light. Rough rocks protruded from the ground, as if they were the tombstones of the deceased on these lands. At the end of the wasteland, a huge and twisted pine tree stood quietly. Even in the thick fog, the outline of its swirling, claw-like branches was still clearly visible, like some huge monster, overlooking this desolate land.
"First Hanging Pine Cemetery." Wang Lina's voice broke the silence, her tone carrying a subtle sense of awe, "In a sense, this is our center of faith."
Tang Yin's gaze fell on the pine tree, and a sense of unease surged in his heart. He knew that this place was of great significance to the people of Hidden Mist Village, but other than that, he knew nothing. The only thing he could feel was a deep and sickening sense of oppression.
Footsteps stopped. The singing stopped. Even the emotions in the air solidified.
"Any last words, Granny Rong?" Gao Zhijie's voice was low and steady, but like an invisible hammer, striking everyone's nerves.
No birds chirping, no wind, only absolute silence. Gao Zhijie quietly fulfilled his duty, his gaze like a cold, hard stone.
Granny Rong raised her head, her gaze sweeping over the crowd before her, the corners of her mouth barely lifting into a bitter smile: "...I never thought about coming back from the Yellow Springs, and I don't know what kind of place it is over there." Her voice trembled slightly, but was still clear, "To be honest, I'm really scared. But, this is for Hidden Mist Village, so there's no other way."
She paused, her gaze falling on Xia Hui, her tone suddenly turning cold: "I will not forgive you, woman!"
The newest novels are first published on Liǔ 9 Shū Bā!
This hatred was like a knife, piercing everyone's heart. Tang Yin had never heard Granny Rong speak in such a tone, the clear anger making him lose his judgment for a moment.
Xia Hui trembled slightly, her lips moved, but she didn't speak, just stood there, as if nailed to the ground. The others seemed to have long been accustomed to all of this, silently beginning to prepare for the final procedure.
Two people tied the rope to the outstretched branches of the First Hanging Pine, the rope making a teeth-grinding friction sound on the branches. Another person made a noose, Gao Zhijie took the rope, and slowly walked towards Granny Rong, steadily placing the noose around her neck.
"See you in the next life." His voice was low, but without a trace of emotion.
"See you in the next life." Granny Rong responded softly, her tone chillingly calm.
In the next second, her thin body was pushed off the cliff. The sound of the rope suddenly tightening was particularly harsh in the silence. Everyone held their breath, and just as the rope straightened, a scream came from the thick fog below the cliff—that sound was not like a human, but more like a whimper from some unknown monster.
Gao Zhijie slowly walked towards the First Hanging Pine, his movements as calm as ever. He took out a sickle and cut the rope without hesitation. The moment the broken rope fell, everyone pricked up their ears, but... they didn't hear the sound of falling water.
Tang Yin's heart clenched. In the depths of the fog, it seemed that something they couldn't understand was hidden, slowly awakening.
They silently returned to the square, silence following them like a shadow. Everyone lowered their heads, like walking corpses that had been emptied of their souls. They had crossed the line, crossed a boundary from which there was no return. Tang Yin lowered his head, his steps mechanical, a thought constantly echoing in his mind: Is this what it feels like?
The thick fog still shrouded Hidden Mist Village, the villagers' figures looming in the fog, like an absurd dream. They returned to the cafeteria, the wooden door making a hoarse creaking sound, breaking the brief silence. The lights were dim, reflecting everyone's tired faces.
Gao Zhijie stood at the door, his gaze sweeping over the crowd, his tone as calm as ever, but carrying an unquestionable command: "Chen Xiang, go cook."
Madam Chen Xiang nodded and responded softly: "Okay."
Gao Zhijie turned and walked out: "I'm going out on patrol."
Zhao Gang sneered, his voice carrying a vague sarcasm: "Actually, there's nothing dangerous outside, except for ourselves."
Gao Zhijie stopped, glanced back at Zhao Gang, and said faintly: "...I'll be back when it's time to eat."
Zhao Gang chuckled, turned and walked towards the door, saying as he walked: "Then I'll go back too. I won't die, I've walked that road tens of thousands of times, how could I go wrong."
He paused, turned his head to look at Gao Zhijie with a bit of provocation: "If I really die, it'll only be because you shot me."
No one responded to his words, only the sound of his footsteps gradually disappearing outside the cafeteria. Gao Zhijie's gaze lingered at the door for a moment, then turned away, as if to hide something, and said coldly: "The rest of you stay here."
Tang Yin noticed that a trace of wavering appeared in Gao Zhijie's expression for the first time. Although he was still strongly commanding everyone, a subtle crack had quietly appeared. And Zhao Gang? Tang Yin's mind flashed with his back view, that innocence had long since disappeared, leaving only coldness and alienation.
...
In the kitchen, Tang Yin and Madam Chen Xiang prepared lunch while talking quietly. Chen Xiang's movements were calm and skilled, as if nothing had happened. Her expression was eerily calm, but her eyes hid some kind of elusive complex emotion.
Tang Yin said softly: "...Let's not add meat."
Chen Xiang stopped the knife in her hand, raised her head and looked at him, her tone light but with a trace of unquestionable firmness: "There is no custom of vegetarianism here, let's just do it normally."
Tang Yin was silent for a moment, then nodded. He suddenly had a strange feeling, as if he was conspiring something with an accomplice, but he couldn't say where this feeling came from.
Soon, the food was served. Vegetables, pickled beast meat stew, with a few bowls of rice, was still the familiar cafeteria taste to Tang Yin. No one refused to eat, even though everyone's faces were filled with fatigue and gloom. But... Tang Yin looked around the table and found that one person was missing.
No, two were missing.
Zhao Gang hadn't returned, and Granny Rong's seat was also empty. The two empty seats were like some kind of silent mockery, reminding them of what they had lost. Tang Yin's throat felt like it was blocked by something, and every mouthful of rice he swallowed was bitter.
Damn it... what's with this sense of incongruity?
Tong Xiaoliang's voice suddenly rang in his ear: "Uncle Tang, Granny Rong is no longer here."
Tang Yin raised his head, stunned for a moment, then slowly nodded: "...Yes, it's a pity."
Tong Xiaoliang tilted his head, looking at him, a hint of childish slyness flashing in his eyes, yet carrying a disturbing question: "Regret? Actually, you could have protected Granny Rong back then, right?"