Chapter 131: The Grey Heron

The moonlight was swallowed by dark clouds, leaving only a few scattered stars flickering in the sky. The paper effigy, an exact replica of me, stepped out through the door.

No sooner had its feet touched the threshold than the sky grew thick with dark, heavy clouds, extinguishing even the faint starlight.

"Coo, coo..." A few calls of river birds echoed from the darkness. A second later, four or five long, slender white birds flapped their wings and took flight.

River birds typically roost in the grasslands by the water at night; they would never venture into a human dwelling. There was definitely something sinister afoot. Seeing them scatter, I knew misfortune was imminent—those birds were likely scouts sent to report our position.

Sure enough, shortly after the birds vanished, a gale smelling of rotting waterweeds whipped up, causing the clothes on the paper effigy outside to rustle violently.

Although that "me" was merely a paper construct, it seemed to possess a flicker of consciousness. Sensing the wind, a trace of terror crossed its face, and it turned to scramble back toward the room.

But before it could take two steps, I saw long, kelp-like waterweeds erupting from the darkness. Like tentacles, they lashed out and coiled around the fleeing effigy. The paper figure let out a shrill, piercing cry before being ripped asunder by the weeds.

It was fortunate the effigy was not flesh and blood; otherwise, the scene before me would have been a gruesome massacre. As it was torn apart, countless yellow paper shards fluttered and danced in the night air.

I stood frozen, speechless, staring at the weeds writhing outside the door. I knew this effigy had died in my stead. Had it been me stepping out, caught off guard, I would never have escaped this trap.

"Hmm?" The entity outside seemed to sense something was amiss, letting out a puzzled sound. The next moment, the flapping of wings returned to the night sky, and those same river birds flew back, landing on the window sill outside.

Now, I could see them clearly: they were grey herons with long, slender heads, necks, legs, and beaks. Their round, unblinking eyes were fixed intently on me inside the room.

These herons belonged in the reeds. How had they found their way to a house? And why were they so fearless, daring to approach us so closely? I knew these birds were unnatural—either tamed or subjected to some dark art.

The herons stared into the room with their beady eyes, pinpointing our location, before flapping their wings to take flight once more.

But as they lifted off, Liu Zhongguo slammed his hand onto the table. The chopsticks jumped into the air, and with a flick of his wrist, they shot out like arrows, piercing through the window. Each one found its mark, pinning a heron by the neck. The four or five birds plummeted to the ground, lying motionless.

"This..." I gaped at him, stunned by his unerring aim.

Noticing my shock, Liu Zhongguo picked up his unfinished glass of wine, took a sip, and looked at me with a smirk. "Well? Your grandfather couldn't match that technique, could he?"

My grandfather was a god-like figure in my heart. Hearing Liu Zhongguo claim superiority stung, so I retorted, "Grey herons are second-class state-protected animals. You just killed five of them; that's at least five years in prison..."

"Cough, cough, cough..." Liu Zhongguo, mid-sip, choked so violently he nearly lost his breath. "You brat, you know the law well, but do you know what 'emergency defense' means?"

At the mention of "emergency defense," I fell silent. When one's life is under immediate threat, one is justified in sacrificing lesser interests to preserve it. It seemed that besides his mastery of feng shui, Liu Zhongguo’s knowledge in other areas far exceeded my own.

"Gurgle... gur..." The thing outside, seeing the herons dead, seemed enraged, emitting a series of strange, unsettling sounds that made my skin crawl.

As those bizarre cries grew sharper, the howling of the wind outside intensified.