What discount rate?

Inside the cave, the phone lay on the ground, and the beam of the flashlight illuminated the entire stone wall.

A man and a woman knelt facing each other on the floor, keeping a certain distance between them…

The man—Bai Zongnan—cleared his throat, breaking the silence.

"Sheng Jie, so you’re saying you didn’t actually die, but were simply given an overdose of sedative, making you appear dead?"

The woman shrugged, meeting Bai Zongnan’s skeptical gaze.

"Believe it or not, that’s the truth."

Bai Zongnan was a journalist who had come to this village looking for material. He’d met a boy who claimed to be a local and offered to guide him, but on the mountain path, they encountered a group of traffickers who knocked Bai Zongnan out and abducted him…

Not only were his belongings stolen, but he nearly lost his life.

"The rest, you already know," she said.

Bai Zongnan glanced at the woman’s clothes, shook his head, and spoke.

"This whole thing is strange. Whatever the case, we should leave here first… This is a crime scene, and whatever needs to be done next, this place isn’t safe right now."

Without waiting for Sheng Jie’s response, Bai Zongnan picked up his phone and headed toward a dark corner.

The cave felt familiar—he’d been here as a child. Carefully, he navigated forward by memory. Sheng Jie followed, never falling behind, but keeping a body’s length between them.

Soon, they found the exit and stepped onto the mountain road.

The feeling of seeing daylight again was wonderful—they both breathed a long sigh of relief.

"What should we do now? Call the police right away?" Sheng Jie asked, perhaps trusting Bai Zongnan more after what they’d been through.

Bai Zongnan pondered for a moment, then shook his head.

"Not yet. There are too many unanswered questions. If the police come now, even I won’t be able to explain everything. We need to investigate further before we make any decisions."

Unexpectedly, Sheng Jie agreed, expressing her willingness to investigate alongside him.

As they walked toward the village, conversation was sparse.

Through their talk, Bai Zongnan realized Sheng Jie’s knowledge of the village matched his own; she even knew stories from the years of famine.

She stopped, then asked earnestly,

"Wang Qiang, do you believe the mountain god truly exists?"

Bai Zongnan was taken aback, answering reflexively.

"No, I don’t."

Sheng Jie nodded and pressed further.

"Then what do you think the village chief and the others are actually worshipping?"

"Superstition, nothing more."

"Superstition? If it were merely superstition, where did the food come from during those years?"

---

"This…" Bai Zongnan suddenly felt unsettled, his temples throbbing.

Sheng Jie locked eyes with him, pushing him further.

"You’ve been to that patch of land behind the mountain, haven’t you?"

Her words struck him like lightning, rooting him to the spot under the blazing sun, cold sweat breaking out instantly.

Sheng Jie stared intently at Bai Zongnan, satisfied with his reaction.

She smiled—a beautiful smile.

"Come on, Qiang. I’ll take you somewhere."

Her few words had already plunged Bai Zongnan into turmoil; those unbearable memories surged up, making him nauseous.

When Bai Zongnan came to his senses, she was already far ahead. He hurried to catch up.

"Hey, wait—where are we going?"

She didn’t answer, simply walked on.

…

The two walked in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

After about half an hour, they reached a clearing, and Sheng Jie stopped.

Bai Zongnan hadn’t noticed the route, just following her blindly, but now realized—they were here.

This was where, years ago, Bai Zongnan had "seen ghosts," and the very clearing where the village chief and the others held their "rituals."

He checked his watch—it was five in the afternoon, almost dusk. The air felt heavy and restless, as if evil spirits lay in wait, ready to tear them apart once night fell.

Sheng Jie suddenly turned, her eyes moist, her voice trembling.

"It’s been a long time, Qiang…"

"It’s been a long time, Uncle Wang… After all these years, have you been well? Uncle Wang…"

"Uncle Wang…"

Uncle Wang…

Her words pierced Bai Zongnan’s mind like a thorn, writhing inside his head. He crouched, clutching his head.

A puddle on the ground reflected his image—white hair, a sorrowful expression, the wound on his brow looking especially fierce.

The memories of these years flooded in, piecing together like shards of a broken mirror.

The gesture of gathering his hair, Wang Jian calling him "big brother," the familiar sense upon first seeing Sheng Jie’s face…

And the gold ring hidden in Bai Zongnan’s jacket pocket!

It once belonged to Widow Liu. Now it was Sheng Jie’s ring—or rather, not Sheng Jie, he should call her…

As his memory returned, Bai Zongnan remembered everything.

---

A voice sounded at his ear, perfectly timed.

"Uncle Wang, the famine in the village—your solution wasn’t wrong. It was cruel, but it was forced by necessity…"

"When Qiang’s mother, your wife, was chosen, you didn’t protect her. You personally killed her and divided her flesh among the others… What were you thinking at that moment?"

"But the disaster years have passed. Now you can provide for yourself. Why keep doing this? Does eating what resembles one’s own body really help? Maybe those who died in the famine bear no grudges, but what about those who perished in peaceful times? Isn’t their life worth anything?"

"Slaughtering your own kind, just to satisfy your interests and desires…"

"Sometimes I wonder, if Qiang were still alive and knew what sort of person his father was, how much pain would he feel?"

"Perhaps he was lucky. The living must face these sins; the dead are happier—whether Qiang, Auntie, or your wife…"

The girl beside him—he should call her Liu Jie—her words thundered forth, exposing Bai Zongnan’s crimes.

"Come, ahead lies your domain."

Her tone was icy, as if recounting a story unrelated to herself, making Bai Zongnan shiver all the more.

He followed her in a daze, crossing the clearing to a valley.

This was where Bai Zongnan had often played as a child; the surroundings once teemed with trees, and every summer, bird calls mingled with cicadas, creating a delightful chorus.

But now… The cliffs were barren and sinister, only a few crows cawing overhead.

The valley wasn't deep—a healthy adult could easily climb out. But for those weakened by hunger and illness, the elderly, women, and children—it was an inescapable trap.

Time and again, this was where Bai Zongnan and the others buried their crimes. Now, he remembered everything.

Bai Zongnan’s real name was Wang Tian, a villager. Chen Ruoyun, known as Aunt Chen, Liu Min, and the village chief were all friends from his youth.

Their village had always been idyllic, with people living in harmony, self-sufficient—a paradise.

But a natural disaster changed everything.

Years of crop failure depleted their reserves. They couldn’t leave the mountains or seek help. The famine claimed many lives—by hunger, by illness.

When the village chief was ready to give up, Bai Zongnan gritted his teeth and devised a solution.

A ritual. Every villager could participate, drawing lots; whoever was chosen would sacrifice themselves, their body divided among the others.

It was against all morality. They’d lived as brothers and sisters in the same village. At first, everyone refused. But as hunger became unbearable, some began to agree—one, then two…

Thus the ritual began. The first to "die" was Liu Ruoyun’s husband—father to the yet unborn Liu Jie. The second was Bai Zongnan’s wife, Qiang’s mother…

Each ritual meant someone lost a loved one, but each also filled their bellies, restoring the haunted, hungry look in their eyes to calm.

Seeing all this, Bai Zongnan felt he’d done nothing wrong—whether during the famine or after his wife’s death.

There was only one exception: Aunt Chen.