Chapter 5: Offered You Up

【Chen Ji, what did you catch?】 The System Cat peered at the big yellow weasel tied up like a rice dumpling in Chen Ji’s hand. Curiosity instantly morphed into disgust. 【Eww, it’s filthy! Why’d you truss it up like that?! Kill the damn thing! Don’t tell me you’re planning to give it to me as a toy! I don’t want some nasty thing like that!】

Truth be told, as a system, the System Cat treated all Earth creatures equally, with no particular likes or dislikes. But starting from the third month it had followed Chen Ji home, a mouse had somehow snuck in and devoured its little snacks, gnawed its toys, and even burrowed into the jar of homemade pickled vegetables that Chen Ji had gone to great lengths to buy. From that moment, the System Cat resolved to despise all rodents for the rest of its days!

Those were local specialties—sour, sweet, spicy, and crisp. They cleared the palate and whetted the appetite, always selling out fast with no online option. You had to camp at the shop door to snag any. Did anyone grasp how hard it was for someone in Chen Ji’s line of work to take even a single day off, like he’d murdered the boss’s whole family or something?!

It had barely gotten a taste before the mouse polished off the lot—though it could’ve eaten them anyway; a system like it didn’t worry about dirt. But Chen Ji had threatened that if it dared, he’d toss it out to become a stray downstairs, no further contact unless absolutely necessary. So it had tearfully given up.

“It’s a filthy thing,” Chen Ji said with a meaningful smile. “Not for you to play with.”

He hauled the Yellow Weasel out of the Mountain Lord Temple, the System Cat trailing close behind, brimming with curiosity about his plans. Chen Ji pulled out the leftover red plastic rope and, following Grandpa’s manual, laid out a circle on the ground. At each of the four corners, he placed glutinous rice and salt—supposedly forming a Trapping Array.

No matter if it worked or not. He had Ten Thousand Volts at the ready. If it escaped, fine—just don’t come back, or he’d nab it again. He wasn’t worried.

The rope turned out to be surprisingly sturdy. Even after wrapping the Yellow Weasel into a spindle shape, plenty remained. He’d buy a couple more rolls later.

Chen Ji gathered some branches and rigged a rock-solid tripod right in the middle of the red circle. After hoisting the Yellow Weasel onto it, he bent down and scooped up the System Cat. “C’mon, let’s head back and crash.”

The Yellow Weasel let out a barrage of shrill squeals. Chen Ji didn’t even glance back. As the cries grew more desperate, he tossed over his shoulder without turning, “Keep yowling, and tomorrow I’ll stew you up as an offering to Grandpa Mountain Lord.”

The Yellow Weasel fell instantly silent. The System Cat twisted around to stare at the weasel, bundled like a zongzi rice dumpling. 【That thing understands people? Did you yell it into a stupor or what?】

Chen Ji shrugged, jostling the System Cat in the process. It hurriedly clung tighter to his neck. With a chuckle, he said, “Who knows?”

【You really gonna kill it? Isn’t the yellow weasel a protected species around here?】

“Yellow weasels are protected,” Chen Ji replied offhandedly, “but a yellow weasel spirit sure isn’t.” He led the System Cat into the main hall, lit three sticks of incense before the Mountain Lord Statue, then headed back to the room for some shut-eye.

As Chen Ji had anticipated, he slept like a rock through the night. The next morning, when he stepped out again, several black shadows scurried off into the distance. The Yellow Weasel still dangled from the branches in the center, though the once-neat red circle was a mess now, glutinous rice scattered everywhere.

Chen Ji plopped down beside the Yellow Weasel with a bowl of instant noodles and slurped away noisily. Instant ramen had that appeal—aromatic enough to make your mouth water before you even dug in. The Yellow Weasel watched him with pleading eyes and squeaked twice. Suspicious drool trickled from the corner of his mouth.

Chen Ji sat with his legs crossed, riding the mountain breeze while scrolling on his phone. Without looking up, he drawled, “Spill it. How’d you make me hallucinate? I didn’t smell any farts from you.”

The Yellow Weasel paused, then erupted into a frenzy of squeals that sounded like the filthiest curses, dragging Chen Ji’s ancestors through the mud for eighteen generations at least.

Chen Ji remained utterly unfazed. The guy had no family left alive—just himself and the cat. Let it curse all it wanted. If ghosts and gods existed, then surely the dead had spirits too. Who knew, maybe tonight his great-grandpa and great-grandma would show up wielding demon-slaying swords and vajra pestles to ship this Yellow Weasel off to its next life. What did he have to fear?

The System Cat was inside, shopping away. Chen Ji had just assigned it a few small tasks, and now it was laser-focused on price-comparing across the web. No time for this.

Not that he was hiding anything from it. Explaining while interrogating—no, questioning—the Yellow Weasel would just be a hassle.

Chen Ji slurped down some noodle broth, finished up, then lit a cigarette and flicked the ash into the empty bowl.

The Yellow Weasel’s piercing shriek hitched for a split second, then sharpened even more.

With a faintly disappointed sigh, Chen Ji said, “Oh. So you still haven’t learned human speech, huh.”

He’d figured it for some big-deal spirit, but nope—not even articulate. Hadn’t it been singing up a storm yesterday, though?

Remembering how easily he’d zapped the Yellow Weasel unconscious, he chalked up everything he’d seen and heard to hallucinations.

He grabbed two leaves, stuffed them into the Yellow Weasel’s mouth, and tied its muzzle shut tight with plastic rope. Then he patched up the glutinous rice in the circle before heading back inside.

He had a packed day ahead. No time to waste dickering with a damn yellow rat.

Chen Ji went through his routine in the main hall: three sticks of incense, fresh offerings swapped out. A little before eight, Uncle Liu showed up on the mountain with four young folks in tow. They carried tools and even a donkey cart—this rough terrain left no choice for heavy loads but muscle or beast.

Chen Ji had toyed with paving the road himself, but that was way beyond his means.

Uncle Liu and the group froze at the temple gate. Uncle Liu stared in surprise at the Yellow Weasel suspended there. Chen Ji strolled out casually, one hand in his pocket. Uncle Liu let out a breath of relief, took the cigarette Chen Ji offered, and took a deep drag before jerking his chin toward it. “Xiao Chen… what’s the deal with that?”

Chen Ji glanced at the Yellow Weasel. “No biggie. Just a big yellow rat. Been years since I was back, so it figures I’m easy pickings for a stranger. Hung it up to teach it a lesson.”

Uncle Liu paused. Folks around here had lived off the mountains for generations, so superstitions ran deep. Things had modernized, with the young ones off working in cities and fewer venturing up the slopes. Still, he cautioned, “Xiao Chen, I’d let it go quick if I were you. Old timers say Great Immortal Huang has spirit. Better heed the elders—don’t wanna invite any bad juju.”

Chen Ji passed out drinks to the young folks and exchanged greetings, chuckling. “Nah, I’m not killing it. Long as it quits messing with me, we’re good. I know what I’m doing, Uncle Liu. Don’t worry—Grandpa Mountain Lord’s watching. How spiritual can it be compared to him?”

Uncle Liu recalled Chen Ji’s lineage of temple keepers. His grandpa had commanded real respect in the village back in the day. If it was sinister business, the kid probably had ways to handle it. Uncle Liu glanced again at the Mountain Lord Temple, his heart settling. He chatted with Chen Ji about repairs, materials, the works.

The group followed Chen Ji down to the cellar to inspect the stock and came away impressed. One of the young guys whistled at Uncle Liu. “Uncle, this…”

Uncle Liu shot him a look to shut it and turned to Chen Ji. “Never figured the Old Master stashed so much prime material! This’ll make it easy—guaranteed solid work.”

“No need for that between folks like us,” Chen Ji waved it off. “Can’t I trust you?”

Rain was due tomorrow—spring showers came often in the mountains but passed quick. Stone didn’t mind a wetting; it’d be handy for walls and foundations. Chen Ji rolled up his sleeves and pitched in hauling with the crew. The morning flew by.

Lunch was a group affair, and Chen Ji’s cooking was top-notch. Generator-powered induction stove, prepped braised pork ribs tossed in with meatballs, a couple cases of beer cracked open. Uncle Liu and his crew devoured it all with gusto. Even Chen Ji, who wasn’t big on eating, packed it away after the morning’s labor.

【Told you your gut issues come from sitting around too much.】 The System Cat crouched nearby, tearing into the ribs ferociously while nagging in Chen Ji’s mind. 【See? Bit of physical work gets the blood flowing, appetite back in a flash.】

The slightly lean young man crossed his legs and tossed back casually, 【Keep eating or not? I’ll take it away if you’re done.】

The System Cat clammed up at once. 【Eat, eat, eat! One more piece!】

Chen Ji fed the big tabby hunk after hunk of rib. The young guys, sharp as tacks, teased, “Brother Chen, your cat’s living the good life.”

Chen Ji stroked its head. “Not bad. Easy to please—eats whatever.”

One of the young guys eyed the tripod at the temple gate curiously. “Hey, Brother Chen… you really just leaving it like that? What’s with the circle underneath? Looks spooky.”

Chen Ji said straight-faced, “Aw, nothing much. Saw Grandpa do it when I was a kid—for offerings to Great Immortal Huang. No clue if it works, just messing around. Seems to, though… thing quit squealing.”

The Yellow Weasel heard that and let out muffled “Woo woo woo—!”

But with its mouth taped and way off at the gate, no one caught it. Chen Ji shrugged it off casually. “Wasn’t me picking the fight, either. Yesterday it camped at my door yowling, chewed my extension cord. Chased it off a bunch, even fed it—but nope, wouldn’t budge. Had to catch it.”

Sure, he’d offered candy. Whether it’d eaten any wasn’t his problem. Zapping it senseless with the high-voltage electric baton counted as catching it too.

After a short break, the crew got back to it. Chen Ji wasn’t one to hover while others worked, and wall-building wasn’t his forte. He busied himself inside. Not long after, Uncle Liu hollered from outside, “Hey hey, kid—don’t touch that! You think you can just… aw, it toppled!”

Chen Ji poked his head out and saw Uncle Liu yanking back one of the young guys at the gate. The Yellow Weasel’s tripod lay toppled. Chen Ji stepped out to find Uncle Liu dressing down the kid like a naughty grandchild. The Yellow Weasel was still trussed fine, so Chen Ji righted the tripod and asked, “Uncle Liu, what happened?”

Uncle Liu glared at the young lad without good humor, rubbing his hands as he told Chen Ji, “Sorry ’bout that. Kid here’s clueless—poked at that Great Immortal Huang for fun. Think he can mess with it? Xiao Chen, check if anything’s off. The rack falling shouldn’t hurt, right?”

Chen Ji laughed along. “All good. Was just my little prank anyway.”

Uncle Liu saw that everything was fine and pulled the young lad inside to get back to work. Chen Ji squatted down, meeting the Yellow Weasel’s gaze. The creature’s beady black eyes stared straight back at him, fierce and eerie.

Chen Ji suddenly smiled—a shy, refined expression. He raised one hand slightly and drew it across his own throat in a cutting motion.

The Yellow Weasel’s body, wrapped tight like a zongzi, shuddered. Chen Ji tapped the top of his head with a finger. Looking past him to the vibrant statue in the main hall, he mouthed the words to the Yellow Weasel with gentle warmth: 【Sacrificed to you.】