He leaned against the doorframe, stuck his head out and looked around. Outside, it was silent and still; apart from a sense of desolation and eeriness, he saw no danger.

After observing for a while, he stepped over the threshold and walked along the cobblestone path on the left side of the main hall, heading toward the backyard of the Mountain God Temple.

The moonlight was like water, wild grass undulated, and Michael Bolton walked for a minute or two before a cluster of buildings appeared ahead.

They were several connected single-story houses, forming a large siheyuan courtyard. Black tiles, white walls, a straight roof ridge, and beneath the eaves were lattice windows and lattice doors.

Each lattice door was gray with dust, some open, some fallen, some tightly shut. The paper pasted on the windows was tattered and torn by the erosion of time.

The moonlight was bright, like frost on the ground. By the moon’s glow, he swept his gaze over the layout of the Mountain God Temple’s backyard.

Besides the siheyuan in front of him, there was also an arched doorway on the east side, a bit like the back courtyards of wealthy families in TV dramas, where such an archway would connect different yards.

In the neighboring courtyard stood a towering tree, lush with leaves and gnarled branches.

“Huh…”

In the yard overgrown with wild grass, he discovered several skeletons wrapped in work uniforms.

Cautiously approaching, he examined them carefully. Each skeleton was badly damaged, with broken bones beneath the work clothes, but unlike the one in the main hall, the shoulder bones here were intact, without cracks.

“These people all suffered terrible injuries before death… what a miserable way to die…”

A gust of wind blew, the leaves rustled, and faintly, Michael Bolton heard, mixed in with the rustling brought by the wind, a low, weeping whisper:

“Help… help…”

In this desolate, deathly night, cold sweat broke out on Michael Bolton’s back.

He stood there, body stiff, for a long while. When the wind stopped, the mournful whispers faded with it.

That neighboring courtyard seems a bit dangerous, but whatever’s inside hasn’t come over… He silently let out a breath, stepped through the wild grass, and walked under the eaves, planning to explore this siheyuan.

This seemed to be where the temple disciples lived, piled with broken, dust-covered furniture, and the air was filled with a faint, decaying smell.

Michael Bolton explored the rooms one by one, finding nothing special, until he pushed open the lattice door at the far east end.

“Creak—”

A door sealed by years of dust was pushed open again, dust falling in a flurry. Michael Bolton brushed the dust off his shoulder, his wary gaze sweeping every corner of the room.

In this room abandoned for many years, by the window, a corpse leaned against the wall, lying there askew.

From the clothing and the miner’s helmet that had rolled off, it could be deduced this was another predecessor.

Stepping over the threshold and entering the room, Michael Bolton shivered, inexplicably feeling as if the temperature around him had dropped significantly.

“It’s a bit cold…”

He cautiously approached the corpse, unfastened the tattered clothes, and as usual, examined the skeleton. This time, he saw no broken bones; the skeleton was intact.

But when his gaze fell on the shoulder bone of the corpse, his pupils contracted. On the shoulder bone of this skeleton, there was an exaggerated crack.

It was just like the crack on the corpse’s shoulder in the main hall, except the injury on this one was even worse.

“Only the one in this room and the one in the main hall have fractured shoulder bones. Is that a coincidence?” he muttered uneasily.

Then, Michael Bolton noticed the corpse’s pants pocket was bulging, as if something was hidden inside.

He reached in and pulled out a yellowed ancient booklet, a dusty bronze mirror, and a yellow talisman paper.

On the yellow talisman, twisted lines were drawn in cinnabar, somewhat resembling runes, and together they formed a character similar to the traditional “尸” (corpse).

As he was examining the talisman, a line of glowing blue text appeared before Michael Bolton’s eyes:

【Name: Corpse Suppression Talisman】

【Type: Consumable】

【Function: Suppress corpses】

【Description: A talisman crafted by a powerful Night Wanderer, it is the nemesis of all corpse-type yin creatures. Stick it to the forehead of a yin creature to complete the seal.】

【Note: It can only be used once.】

The glowing blue text resembled his attribute panel. Clearly, this was a prompt from the “Spirit Realm.”

Since entering the eerie ancient temple, it was the first time Michael Bolton had seen such a prompt.

“It must be an important item.” Michael Bolton folded it carefully and put it into the pocket of his jacket, zipping it up.

After a moment’s thought, he unzipped it again.

Because he remembered a trope from a martial arts novel, where a highly skilled swordsman liked to wrap his sword in cloth and carry it on his back.

One day, while the swordsman was eating, a challenger came to duel him.

And then the swordsman was done for.

The cause of death was that the cloth was too troublesome to unwrap…

Michael Bolton then picked up the ancient booklet and the bronze mirror, but no relevant information appeared.

He set the bronze mirror aside first, then carefully opened the yellowed, brittle booklet.

It read:

“I have been a disciple at the Temple of Lady Sandao Mountain for two and a half years now. I have already learned to read and write. Senior Brother says that once Master has finished delivering the wandering souls and returns to the mountain, I can officially be initiated and begin cultivating the Moon-Swallowing Soul-Nourishing Technique. This is the introductory method to become a Night Wanderer.”