The fox spirit is in a hurry like an imperial decree.

  The village sits north and faces south, with a broad view in front, featuring large rice fields and a small river. Behind the village, a high mountain extends southwestward with a branch, sinking low before rising again to form an inward curve, resembling a bird stretching its neck to look back; there is also a residual branch southeastward that sinks flat, looking like a bird's wing sweeping backward, the entire terrain forming a bird looking back and protecting the village with its head, neck, and one wing.

  The name of this tune is "Green Phoenix Turning Its Head".

  Near the bird's head, close to the sharp beak, there is an old and dilapidated ancient temple called Fengtou Temple. Although this place is a temple, it appears especially gloomy because of its shabbiness and the large number of empty coffins placed inside. When I was young, after dark, I didn't dare walk past the road in front of the temple gate.

  As soon as my master and I reached the entrance of Fengtou Hall, seven or eight old men rushed out with a start, their faces pale, and when they saw my master, they all shouted "Ghost! Help!"

  "Master asked calmly: 'What happened?'"

  "There's a voice in the coffin!" an old lady said.

  "I saw the coffin lid move!" Another old man said, it turned out that something big happened last night, they came to Fengtou Temple to burn incense early in the morning and were scared silly.

  My master and I were both shocked, not because we were afraid of ghosts, but because we were afraid that a zombie was hiding in the coffin.

  Making a coffin is a troublesome and particular thing, it's impossible to wait until someone dies before making one, so many people make their coffins in middle age, without applying varnish, and store them in the temple. When they die, the varnish will be applied. I remember when I was young, there were many empty coffins in Fengtou Temple, but now because of the promotion of cremation, the number of empty coffins is decreasing. Looking from the entrance, only about a dozen are left in the west wing.

  Just as we were peering around, a coffin lid slowly rose up and tilted to one side, and a head with long hair hanging down appeared, its face and hair almost black, and it was hard to see clearly because of the disheveled hair. The light in the temple was dim, and others couldn't see even more clearly.

  The scene was too shocking, and the old men shouted and ran away. It's rare for them to be so fast at their age, with their old arms and legs running so quickly.

  I was so scared that my legs went soft, but Master stood still and didn't move, I couldn't run either. The next moment I recognized the person who crawled out of the coffin, it wasn't an evil spirit or a zombie, but that famous genius madman!

  "You madman, what are you hiding in there for?" The master shouted loudly, he also recognized him.

  The madman climbed out of the coffin, hugging his chest with both hands, bending his waist and looking around in panic, mumbling unclearly: "There's a ghost, there's a ghost..."

  I'm crying and laughing at the same time. I'm afraid that the ghost is still hiding in the coffin, sleeping. What kind of logic is this? Is it saying that the most dangerous place is actually the safest?

  My master scolded a few words in dialect, the madman walked towards us, stretched out two fingers to my master and shook them, but asked for cigarettes to smoke. My master took the opportunity to ask: "Have you seen the king?"

  "I saw it, I saw it, three zhang tall, red light soaring into the sky......" The madman suddenly shrank his head and made a terrified expression, and ran away quickly.

  "What does it mean?" I asked Master.

  The master nodded and walked into the Phoenix Head Hall.

  The ancient temple is broken, but it can still be seen that the carvings and paintings of the year are exquisite, with flying eaves and stone pillars that are extraordinary. The master said that in the past, incense was very prosperous here, after the Cultural Revolution, no one dared to burn incense again, but no one dared to demolish it, so it became a charity house for storing empty coffins, until recently, someone came to burn incense again.

  "Why wasn't it demolished during the Cultural Revolution?" I asked in puzzlement.

  The master smiled: "At that time, it was indeed going to be demolished, but as soon as they entered the temple, they got a headache and didn't demolish it."

  Is it really so mysterious? I'm a bit skeptical, but Master didn't explain much and just walked in.

  In the center of the great hall is a statue of a female deity, elegant and beautiful, riding a majestic qilin. Her right hand is clasped in front of her chest, while her left hand holds a pearl-like object - this is the immortal maiden who achieved enlightenment at the top of Xian Rock. Beside her are a beautiful maid and a blue-faced, evil-looking servant boy.

  On the left side of the hall is a middle-aged man dressed in ancient official attire, with a gentle face, long beard reaching his chest, benevolent but not losing majesty. This is the guardian deity of this village, called "Fuzhu" or also known as "Dawang".

  On the right side of the temple is an old man with white whiskers and white hair, who is none other than the well-known Landlord.

  Master and I came here to see if there's anything abnormal about this "Big King". Master walked around the incense table, looking around randomly, suddenly bent down and pulled out a small wooden man from under the offering table. It was roughly carved, only with a human outline, but there were words written on it. I leaned over to take a look, and couldn't help but gasp in shock - the words written on it were my name and birthdate!

  "Is someone using this to harm me?" I asked Master, this kind of harmful evil method is almost universally known, even some young children in kindergarten will use it as a way to vent their anger, but the number of people who actually know how to use it is extremely small.

  Master nodded: "Sheng Yu Po used this to harm you, but it has already failed."

  I was furious, and I cursed loudly: "Damn it, this old witch is too much, too vicious, actually using such evil means to harm me! And what's with these messy gods, actually helping the old witch harm people..."

  Master's face also looked very unsightly, and he hastily stopped me: "Don't talk nonsense!"

  I still wanted to scold, but was dragged out of the temple by my master. Once outside, my master said: "This place has been abandoned for too long, and the gods are not here most of the time. It's some evil spirits that occupy the temple and accept offerings. The more people believe in it, the stronger its power becomes. In order to gain more incense, they will stop at nothing and use possession to deceive people. What Sheng Yupo claimed was He Xiangu and Wang Mu Niangniang, are actually evil spirits here! However, the statue still belongs to the orthodox god, you scolded the orthodox god by pointing at the statue, which is unreasonable and disrespectful behavior."

  I was indignant: "They indulged in evil and allowed wicked things to do evil in their temples, shouldn't they be scolded?"

  "If someone uses your name to do evil elsewhere, and you don't know about it, are you guilty?" Master asked me back, continuing, "You may not believe in ghosts and gods, but you must show respect; you can ignore them, but remember not to blaspheme, no matter how good a reason you have."

  I still didn't feel convinced, but I also didn't continue arguing about this topic. I asked: "Is there any evil spirit in the temple now?"

  "There shouldn't be, but my sensitivity is not high, I may not be able to sense it. You can try later. Concentrate your mind, relax your body, and sense the different breaths, cold and hot, yin and yang, wet and dry, bright and dark... The breath of each place is different. Where there are gods, it should be bright, peaceful, warm, and joyful; where there are evil spirits, there will be gloomy, stinky, strange, and ominous breaths. However, people who are confused may sense the opposite, so one must keep their original heart like an ancient well reflecting the moon, empty and transparent..."

  Master took the opportunity to pour out his knowledge, and when he finished, I asked: "So do you think this king is the one that crazy guy was talking about? Where did his true body go?"

  The master said seriously: "First, the madman's words are not entirely believable. Second, I don't see what kind of evil spirit is pretending to be the king here. Sometimes, even if it's a fake one, as long as it has a sense of proportion in doing things, it can still become the representative of the real master. This matter is really not easy for us to intervene."

  "Master, you know many spells, this old witch is so vicious, I can't swallow this breath, do you have any way to counterattack her?"

  "Methods are available, but we can't do it this way. If we do, what's the difference between me and her? Moreover, the village has been shrouded in an eerie atmosphere lately, with strange phenomena occurring frequently. It seems that several evil entities are active, yet it's hard to distinguish good from evil. I've calculated a divination, and soon the village will face a great calamity. So, we mustn't act rashly, or else we'll invite disaster!"

  I finally understand why Master didn't want to take action and kept tolerating everything. Sheng Yuba was ignorant and fearless, thinking she could communicate with the divine and was self-satisfied, but she didn't know that what she was communicating with was an evil entity. My master, on the other hand, was worried that if he were to strike down Sheng Yuba or some evil entity, it would provoke even more and stronger evil entities to wreak havoc on the entire village, and he couldn't bear the responsibility for that. This is where his true concern lay.

  Master was young and received criticism, which made him timid. He is extremely cautious in his actions. Later, he suffered from tuberculosis for over a decade, which exhausted his spirit, making it impossible for him to fight against ghosts and monsters. Therefore, he can only use gentle and yielding methods, which is forced by circumstances, and it's not his fault. Now that I've just started my career and haven't even entered the door yet, I can only endure humiliation and hardship.

  There is a dirt road on the edge of the village, and we two people walked along the dirt road from the head of the village to the end of the village. About 100 meters away from the village, there are five or six households by the roadside, which are houses built in the past decade or so. One of the households is a butcher's, and when we passed by, the butcher was disemboweling a large fat pig. The butcher's wife was flushing the blood and filth on the ground into the ditch, and a bloody smell and pig dung smell wafted over with the wind.

  Less than twenty meters away from these people's homes, there are three giant camphor trees, with trunks that several people can barely wrap their arms around, and heights of over twenty meters, with dense branches and leaves like a canopy. The other day when Master saved me, the thousand-year-old camphor oil used was made by simmering down branches cut from one of these trees.

  Ten years ago when my family moved here, these three big camphor trees were already in their current state. On the trunks of the big trees hung many small flags, small bows and arrows; this was because some families' children had been frightened or there were patients at home who had been suffering from long-term illnesses that could not be cured, so they made some "magical instruments" to hang on the tree to ward off evil spirits and pray for peace. Under the trees, there were stone tables with candle holders and incense burners, and offerings such as peanuts, melon seeds, and apples; due to years of people burning incense, a large piece of bark had been smoked to be oily and shiny.

  Not only the elderly people regard this big camphor tree as a god, but also young people are extremely respectful. No one has ever dared to urinate or spit under the tree, and even the most mischievous children do not dare to climb the tree to play, nor do they dare to steal food from under the tree. I don't know why people respect the big tree so much, but this is not a bad habit in our village. As far as I know, many places have this custom of treating the big trees on the edge of the village as gods and offering sacrifices to them.

  "Our village was established in the Zhen Guan period of the Tang Dynasty, and these three trees were planted at that time. They have been here for over 1,300 years and have spiritual power. When the Red Guards came to demolish the Fengtou Temple, they got a headache as soon as they entered, so they didn't dare to demolish it and ran over to cut down these three trees instead, because people often burned incense in front of them. As a result, when one of the Red Guards swung his axe, their leader suddenly cried out and fainted."

  I followed my master's direction and looked over, the first big tree indeed had a scar on it, which seemed to be chopped by an axe. I had also vaguely heard the old people in the village mention this before, so it shouldn't be fake. So, does that mean these three trees have really become divine trees?

  The first big tree is particularly luxuriant, and the whole tree can't see any rotten tree holes; The second one has several small tree holes at the root, and the third one has a large branch rotting to form a larger tree hole about five meters high. These two trees may have been hollowed out, but compared to the thousand-year-old ancient trees, they are still considered very healthy and thriving.

  I inadvertently pressed my hand against the first big tree, but immediately shrank back like I had been electrocuted, letting out a cry of surprise.