Ritual
Gold City, Ye Family.
After taking a shower, He Yue changed into her silk pajamas and sprayed a bit of perfume on herself. She then sat on the reclining chair in her bedroom and leisurely enjoyed the beautiful night that belonged to the rich lady.
Immersed in the lingering fragrance, He Yue was nearly dozing off when the full moon outside cast its glow upon her. Suddenly, she remembered something and sat up abruptly.
She had almost forgotten something…
Hurriedly, He Yue retrieved four candles from the cabinet and placed them in the four corners of the room. After lighting the candles, she took out a knife and stabbed a wound on her finger. At the same time, He Yue muttered something.
In an instant, the air in the room began to flow rapidly.
Instead of dripping, the blood from He Yue’s finger gradually floated upward, transforming into a faint red mist suspended in the air.
Upon completing her chant, He Yue abruptly opened her eyes. Her black pupils were now tinted with an eerie red glow, and her irises turned completely black.
Before her eyes appeared a blurry image of a rural scene, which then zoomed in to reveal a slightly frail young girl lying on a bed. She seemed to be in a deep slumber, her beautiful face exuding an angelic purity.
He Yue gazed intently at the girl, scrutinizing her. After a moment, the calmness on He Yue’s face shattered instantaneously, and her all-black pupils betrayed astonishment and disbelief.
The intense emotional fluctuations exhibited by He Yue disrupted the stability of the ritual in the room. The faint red blood mist in the air churned frenziedly, emanating a malevolent aura. In haste, He Yue forcefully terminated the ritual.
At the moment the four candles were abruptly extinguished, an expression of pain contorted He Yue’s face. She expelled a mouthful of blood and collapsed onto the floor. Even though her eyes had returned to their normal state, they still retained a sense of bewilderment and terror.
…
Ye Ling had been in Willow Village for two days. She could sense the curiosity of the people around her, yet they refrained from excessively disturbing her. They mostly observed her covertly, which brought her a slight sense of relief.
After the sun had set in the afternoon, Ye Ling left her room, carrying a wooden basin containing her soiled clothes. She was preparing to wash them.
Today, the entire building had no water supply, so she could not use the sink. She had to go to the river to wash her clothes.
Being unfamiliar with the village, Ye Ling inquired along the way, making her way toward the riverbank.
Suddenly, she noticed a large crowd gathered up ahead on the road. The noise could be heard from afar.
Not particularly fond of joining commotions, Ye Ling was about to quicken her pace and depart. However, amidst the crowd, she heard a cry, “My son! Can anyone save my son?”
Someone nearby suggested, “Hurry up and take him to the clinic to get medical attention!”
Another person objected, “The clinic is too far away. By the time he gets there, the child might lose his life!”
“What do you suggest then?”
Ye Ling was stunned for a moment. She immediately put down the wooden basin and hurriedly walked to the side of the crowd, forcefully pushing them aside.
The villagers assumed Ye Ling was just eager to witness the commotion. When life was at stake, they were highly displeased with her behavior.
A hot-tempered woman extended her foot and tripped Ye Ling, who was anxiously trying to assess the situation.
Ye Ling fell to the ground. Her hands were cut by rocks, and her palms were red. Her knees were in extreme pain.
Ye Ling didn’t care who tripped her. She immediately looked at the middle of the crowd and saw a child lying on the ground. At this moment, the child’s lips were dark purple, and his cheeks were red. He was making urgent sounds from his throat, but he couldn’t call for help.
In his unbearable suffering, the child resorted to using his own hands to force choke his neck.
The sobbing woman beside the child, tears streaming down her face, desperately tried patting his back. “Xiao Hu, spit it out quickly!”
Ye Ling’s pupils contracted, and she immediately grabbed the woman’s wrist. “You mustn’t pat his back!”
In the case of a foreign object blockage, if she patted his back, it would easily cause the foreign object to slide down and aggravate suffocation.
The woman looked at Ye Ling with a mix of belief and doubt. “How do you know? Are you a doctor?”
“I’m not…” Ye Ling wasn’t a doctor, but she had witnessed her mother and grandfather treating illnesses and saving lives when she was young. As she grew up, she secretly read some medical books, concealing it from her father.
“Then why are you spouting nonsense here?” The woman was furious, feeling that Ye Ling was delaying her son’s rescue. Her gaze seemed to devour Ye Ling whole.
At that moment, a middle-aged man squeezed through the crowd and handed a chopstick to the woman. “Xiao Hu’s mother, try poking his throat with this!”
The woman’s eyes lit up, ready to accept the chopstick, but Ye Ling firmly grasped it and threw it away. She was infuriated, her face flushed. “Who told you that this can save a person?!”
Was the child not dying fast enough?
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