The Demon's Offering in Liuchuan's Rice Fields

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the vast expanse of Liuchuan's rice fields. The air was thick with the scent of freshly cut rice and the distant hum of cicadas. In the small village of Liuchuan, life moved at a leisurely pace, but tonight, the tranquility was about to shatter.

Liu Hua, a young villager with a face etched with the lines of her toil, walked through the fields. She had been working since dawn, her hands calloused from the relentless work of harvesting the rice. As she made her way home, the thought of a hot meal and a restful sleep filled her with a sense of relief.

As Liu Hua approached her modest home, she noticed a peculiar sight. A group of villagers, led by the village elder, were gathered around a large, ancient stone tablet that stood in the center of the field. The elder, a man with a long beard and piercing eyes, was intoning ancient words in a language Liu Hua had never heard.

"What's happening here?" Liu Hua asked, her curiosity piqued.

The elder turned to her, his face stern. "This is an ancient ritual, Liu Hua. It's meant to protect our village from evil spirits."

Liu Hua's eyes widened. "Evil spirits? I've never heard of such things."

The elder nodded. "In the old days, Liuchuan was a place of great power. Our ancestors made a deal with the spirits of the land, offering them a portion of the harvest in return for their protection. But with time, the ritual was forgotten, and now, we must perform it again to ensure our safety."

Liu Hua watched as the elder and the other villagers performed the ritual, their faces contorted with fear and reverence. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss, but she pushed the thought aside, assuming it was just her overactive imagination.

That night, Liu Hua lay in her bed, the sound of the wind rustling through the rice stalks lulling her into a deep sleep. But sleep was elusive, and soon, she was awake once more. The room was dark, save for the faint glow of the moon filtering through the window.

Liu Hua sat up, her heart pounding. She could hear the faint sound of whispering, as if someone were calling her name. She got out of bed and moved closer to the window, but saw nothing.

"Who's there?" she called out, her voice trembling.

The whispering grew louder, and Liu Hua felt a chill run down her spine. She turned to leave the room, but found the door locked from the outside. She pounded on the door, but there was no response.

Frantic, Liu Hua searched the room for a way out. She found a small window in the back of the house, but it was too small to climb through. She was trapped.

The whispering grew louder, and Liu Hua felt a presence in the room. She turned to see a shadowy figure standing in the corner, its eyes glowing with an eerie light. It was the elder, but his face was twisted in rage and pain.

"Liu Hua," he hissed, "you have broken the ancient ritual. The spirits are angry, and they will take their revenge."

Liu Hua tried to scream, but no sound would come out. The elder lunged at her, and she felt a sharp pain as he pierced her chest with a wooden stake. She fell to the floor, her life ebbing away.

The elder turned and left the room, leaving Liu Hua to die in the dark. But as she lay there, she felt a strange warmth envelop her, and with her last breath, she saw the spirit of the rice fields, a majestic figure with eyes like stars, descending to claim her soul.

In the days that followed, the villagers of Liuchuan noticed a change. The rice fields were no longer as bountiful as they had been, and the village seemed to be under a curse. Many of the villagers fell ill, and those who dared to venture into the fields never returned.

The elders of the village knew what had happened. They had forgotten the ancient ritual, and now, they must atone for their sins. They gathered again at the stone tablet, performing the ritual with renewed fervor and hope.

As the ritual reached its climax, the elder looked up to the sky, his eyes filled with tears. "We have sinned, great spirits. Please forgive us and restore our village."

The sky opened up, and a great wind swept through the fields, carrying with it the sound of a thousand voices. The spirits had heard their plea, and they were ready to forgive.

The villagers watched in awe as the spirits descended, their forms shimmering in the moonlight. They embraced the spirits, and the curse was lifted. The rice fields once again flourished, and the village of Liuchuan was safe.

But the memory of Liu Hua remained, a haunting reminder of the cost of forgetting the ancient rituals and the power of the spirits that protected them.