In the village, tables and chairs were moved aside, revealing a deep ditch ten zhang long and about one zhang wide. Inside, a layer of firewood, stones, and thorns had been laid, and on both sides of the ditch, bundles of incense were already placed. Everyone stood quietly on either side.
Second Master was barefoot, with his pants rolled up. He watched the fire begin to light up inside the ditch with concentration, his old face lined like a carved knife.
Among the spectators, many wore anxious expressions, as if they still felt that the matter wasn't of much importance.
Those present, whether in terms of skill or status, were far superior to Tie Shoupeng. Taking care of this old fellow would be an easy task.
Why would the master of this Mr. Hu take such a risk over the words of such a minor figure? they thought. Although they came to observe out of respect for the younger generation in the village, they truly didn't understand the mountain's customs.
