Chapter 420 - 181: The Natives’ New Ritual (Part 4)
Chen Zhou patiently waited for the two to get ready, pointed the rifle slightly towards the sky, and pulled the trigger.
"Bang!"
"Bang bang!"
A crisp gunshot was followed by two thunderous explosions of gunpowder.
Caught off guard, the indigenous people were almost scared to the point of collapsing to the ground.
They looked in terror at Saturday and Sunday, at the smoking gun barrels in their hands, at Chen Zhou who was standing even closer, almost unable to control themselves from running away.
Dusty memories were rekindled once more.
They suddenly remembered that on the day they were captured, their companions fell after this terrifying sound.
Today, who would be devoured by this invisible monster that could take lives and shatter skulls?
...
Thanks to the bit of trust built over several days, the indigenous people finally managed to restrain their urge to flee and continued to follow Chen Zhou after the three shots.
The Temple of Wang Lingguan, built along the edge of the cave, soon appeared before them.
Having gone unmaintained for almost a year, a thick layer of dust covered the complex mortise and tenon structure of the temple gate.
The reddish wooden columns, exposed to the elements, had developed cracks on their once relatively smooth surfaces, giving the temple an ancient yet dilapidated appearance.
Pushing open the door, the rusty hinges immediately emitted a creaking sound.
Sunlight poured onto the dusty temple floor, illuminating the black wooden floorboards and the three prayer mats placed upon them.
At the temple entrance, Chen Zhou raised his rifle skyward once more and fired, then stepped into the temple.
As during the previous ceremony, he walked straight to the long table where the statue of Wang Lingguan was placed, shouldered his rifle, and stood with the Long Spear in hand.
Saturday and Sunday entered the temple side by side—
Each of their steps fell precisely into the footprints left by Chen Zhou on the wooden floor, and when they knelt on the mats, they left exactly the same number of footprints as Chen Zhou had upon entering the temple.
The sound of their kowtowing was much more muffled than the gunshots.
This time, when they raised their heads, they could finally get a clear look at the visage of the new God they had been worshiping yet had no impression of.
Wang Lingguan’s upper body was shrouded in shadows cast from the cave’s top.
The interplay of light and shadow, along with the dust floating in the light, made him appear even more imposing and mysterious.
Looking up from below, their gaze swept past the Wind and Fire Wheel beneath his feet, the Golden Armor around his body, the steel whip in his hand, and finally landed on his face.
They saw the God’s face was flushed red, with three eyes on his head, two glaring eyes, a slightly open mouth, and a full beard like a fiery blaze that captured their spirits even at a glance.
Saturday and Sunday dared to look up for only a moment before cautiously retracting their gaze, getting up, and bowing their heads as they headed outside.
...
After them, seven indigenous people who had witnessed the entire kowtowing process imitated them, entering the temple in pairs to kneel and pray.
They were not as bold as Saturday and Sunday, who had been through a ceremony before and dared to glimpse at the God.
In fact, having blindly followed Chen Zhou to this place, even now, the indigenous people didn’t know they were bowing before a statue—
In their tribe, there had never been a clear depiction of the God’s appearance, let alone a statue; everything relied on oral tradition.
The ritual of bowing was not difficult to master; the indigenous people mimicked Saturday and Sunday, heavily knocking their foreheads against the wooden floor, with Zebra doing so most zealously.
If Chen Zhou had used stone bricks instead of wood for the temple’s construction, this guy would have bloodied his head.
After finally completing the kowtowing step, as one indigenous person after another exited the temple, Chen Zhou closed the door, and the ceremony drew to a close.
Reloading the bullet, this time, Chen Zhou fired two shots in succession.
Accompanied by six gunshots, a layer of dust fell from the temple’s roof beam, and the smell of gunpowder grew even stronger.
The indigenous people’s hearts, which had just calmed down, began to race once more with the gunfire.
Zebra, who stood close to Saturday and Sunday, even felt his head buzzing from the shock.
Amid the buzzing noise, he saw the strange new Leader pull out the peculiar Long Spear from the ground and head back towards their gathering place along the same path.
Only then did Zebra start following along, a slight realization dawning in his heart—the ceremony was over.