They called that terrifying man-eating monster “God,” and said that he was now “asleep.” Did that mean that even if she hid in the shrine for a while, that “God” wouldn’t discover her?

Thinking of how her life had hung by a thread last night, and how “God” couldn’t eat her, Ethan Clark suddenly felt a bit of relief and gratitude.

It’s fine, it’s definitely fine.

She kept repeating this to herself, quietly listening to the sounds of those people outside. They had spread out to search the rooms. If they couldn’t find her in the rooms, they would soon think of the gap at the end of the corridor. But she didn’t know if she would be seen if she went out now. After hesitating for quite a while, she realized she couldn’t delay any longer.

She took off her shoes, which made obvious footsteps when she walked, poked her head out quickly to look outside, and saw only the back of an old woman—everyone else had gone into the rooms. It was a good opportunity!

Don’t see me, don’t see me, don’t see me!

She darted out swiftly, her heart pounding wildly but making no sound, her eyes fixed only on the gently swaying curtain of the shrine. She had never moved so quickly and nimbly before. As soon as she stepped onto the corridor by the shrine, the curtain was right in front of her!

At that moment, the old woman turned around. Ethan Clark’s heart skipped a beat, and she dove into the curtain. She didn’t know if her movement had been seen, only feeling that someone might lift the curtain to check at any second. She stiffly and anxiously raised her head to scan the inside of the shrine for a hiding place. At a glance, she saw the area in the center wrapped in heavy drapes, and without thinking, rushed in and hid herself behind the layers of curtains.

The floor inside the shrine was made of dark, smooth wood, which seemed to emit a faint, special fragrance. Sitting on the floor, she didn’t feel any chill at all, her eyes staring blankly at the motionless drapes in front of her.

The muffled voices outside became extremely distant. The light filtering in gradually faded away. Someone was speaking softly outside, but she couldn’t make out the words.

“Time… late…”

“No choice… waiting outside… will come out eventually…”

“Let’s leave first… doesn’t matter… can’t disturb anymore…”

Hearing the word “leave,” Ethan Clark instantly relaxed a little. Just as she moved her foot, footsteps entered the shrine. She immediately froze and held her breath, but fortunately, the person who entered didn’t intend to lift the curtain—just bowed and knelt outside, then quickly retreated.

It took Ethan Clark quite a while to confirm that they had really all left. She still couldn’t quite believe they had given up searching for her so quickly, but thinking about it, maybe to them, it was like a mouse running into the yard. Even if they wanted to catch it, if they couldn’t find it for a while, they wouldn’t dare disturb the owner of this place too much just for a little mouse.

After all, to him, a mouse couldn’t possibly pose much of a threat.

With the crisis temporarily over, Ethan Clark was instantly crushed by a deep exhaustion. The fatigue came from not sleeping all night and being tense all day, and she hadn’t eaten or drunk anything during this time. In this state, her reactions were sluggish, and only now did she realize that right behind her was that “God.”

Night fell once again, and the same faint fragrance as last night drifted through the silent air. A red lantern suddenly lit up behind her, and Ethan Clark instantly recalled everything she had seen the previous night, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end.

When she had rushed in earlier, she hadn’t been able to see what was inside. Now, staring at her own shadow cast by the red lantern, she slowly turned her head inch by inch.

Her mind was flooded with terrifying images she couldn’t control—like turning around to find two white sleeves hanging in front of her, or seeing that the “God” behind her had turned into a monster staring at her.

But when she actually turned around, nothing frightening happened. The red lantern was just the light of a red candle, looking like an ordinary candlestick, full of an ancient atmosphere. Even more imposing and magnificent than the candlestick was the altar in the center of the curtains.

That could probably be called an altar. Ethan Clark didn’t know how to describe it. Its style was similar to the shrine’s architecture, but countless times more ornate. The massive, dark wood tinged with red was carved with all kinds of patterns and designs, forming three exquisite pavilions, one inside the other. The outermost layer held many incense burners, showing traces of much incense having been burned; the middle layer was filled with offerings—fruits and pastries and the like; the innermost layer looked like a small, separate room, lined with cushions, and at this moment, it was hung with countless red threads, with a red cocoon suspended in the very center.

For a moment, Ethan Clark forgot her fear, stunned by the exquisite work of art before her and the solemn, mysterious atmosphere.

When she came back to her senses, her gaze didn’t linger on the red cocoon in the innermost layer, but instead unconsciously wandered over the offerings on the second tier. This was pure instinct, because she was truly thirsty and hungry now, her stomach burning, her limbs weak. Including yesterday, she hadn’t eaten since she was in prison, and now it had been two days without a drop of water—when she licked her lips, she could even taste the blood oozing from her cracked lips.