I am the villain in the book

North of Fengyuan City, Yunlai Restaurant.

While Wei Changming was pondering what the hell this "Yama" was in the Watchmen's Office, the atmosphere here was quite lively.

It was mealtime, and the hall was almost full. The waiters with long cloths draped over their shoulders moved between the tables, the shouts and conversations noisy and chaotic.

However, the guests sitting at the tables by the street-facing windows were very quiet, just eating their meals with their heads down. Even when they did talk, they tried to keep their voices down.

This wasn't because they were more cultured than others, but entirely because of the two watchmen dressed in black official uniforms with copper gongs tied to their chests.

"Brother Zhang, how was the girl at Manchun Pavilion last night?"

Ignoring the apprehensive gazes of the surrounding diners, a watchman with a copper gong laughed as he drank his wine, "I heard you came out of her boudoir in less than a quarter of an hour. What's wrong, not in good shape?"

"Hey, don't mention it."

The watchman surnamed Zhang curled his lip, his face full of helplessness, "I didn't even have time to take off my clothes yesterday before the boss called me away."

"Hahaha, you should be glad you didn't take off your clothes yet, otherwise wouldn't it be even more disappointing to be called away halfway through?"

The watchman drinking wine joked, then asked, "What, another dead person?"

"Yeah, over in Yuhua Lane, only three years old."

The watchman surnamed Zhang picked up a chopstick of vegetables, eating as he said, "Yesterday, more than fifty people died in one day."

"There's never been that many before, right?"

"Yeah, this is the first time. On the other hand, the Princess's mansion has been fine all along."

"Brother Zhang, what do you say is the reason for this?"

"Who knows, I hope"

The watchman surnamed Zhang suddenly stopped talking, his gaze looking out through the open wooden window towards the bustling street.

"Brother Zhang, what are you looking at?"

"Uh... I think I saw Bai Youheng."

"Yeah, I guess I was mistaken."

The watchman surnamed Zhang also stopped dwelling on the matter, returning to the previous topic.

"Let's hope this Yama isn't too smart, like the previous two times, otherwise I don't know how many more people will die in Fengyuan City."

"Alas..."

The watchman opposite him nodded, "Let's hope so."

Daning, Longzhou, Longzhou City.

Already desperately poor, and with neighboring Yuanzhou at war, the lives of the people living on this last pure land of Buddhism were getting worse day by day.

And the more bitter real life was, the more prosperous the incense of the Folian Temple became.

"..."

"May the Bodhisattva protect us! May the Bodhisattva protect us!"

"Amitabha, I pray that the Buddha will protect my family's safety..."

"I beg the Buddha to protect me from the suffering of reincarnation, and to enjoy happiness forever in the Western Paradise, Namo Amitabha..."

"Two Vajras, my son is now fighting in Yuanzhou, please protect him and bring him back safely..."

"..."

The sincere prayers filled the various halls of the Folian Temple, and the rising green smoke almost formed a cloud over Lingkai Mountain.

The content of the worshippers' requests may have been slightly different, but they were basically all "keeping up with the times", either related to the war in Yuanzhou or to the recent serial killings in the city.

About three or four days ago, children suddenly began to disappear and die in Longzhou City, with at least three or four cases occurring every day, and even eight cases yesterday.

The murderer's methods were not particularly cruel, but targeting only children was extremely vile.

The Longzhou State Yamen immediately mobilized almost all the city's top detectives to investigate the case with all their might, but after several days they still had nothing to show for it, and instead made the people in the city panic.

Life was already so difficult, and now such a villain had emerged.

Since the government could not be relied upon, many people had no choice but to come and seek the protection of the Buddha.

Whether it was useful or not, no one knew, but it was the only thing they could do at the moment.

"Buddha, it is not easy for us orphans and widows to depend on each other, please do not let that villain harm my son..."

"Pray to the Buddha, pray to the Buddha..."

A ragged mother and son knelt at the feet of the golden-robed Tathagata Buddha statue, kowtowing several times before slowly getting up and throwing a few copper coins into the merit box.

Such an act would not have been anything special a few months ago, but now it was rare.

After all, the lives of ordinary people were now too difficult, and apart from some wealthy families, the rest could not even afford to eat, let alone have extra money to offer to the Buddha.

Therefore, most worshippers would just burn a few incense sticks and leave, and few would donate money like this mother and son.

"Clang~"

The crisp sound of the copper coins colliding was very faint. The woman put her hands together and bowed sincerely to the Buddha statue, then turned her gaze to the empty bamboo basket in her arms.

The hoped-for silver coins did not appear, but the woman did not feel too disappointed. She just took the hand of the little boy beside her and left the Folian Temple, preparing to go down the mountain and return home.

"Mom, I'm hungry."

Walking on the mountain road, the little boy asked softly, "Can we have porridge today?"

"..."

Looking at her son's sallow face, the woman weighed the matter in her heart several times, then smiled and nodded.

"Okay, Mom will cook porridge for you when we get back."

Half an hour later.

After walking back to the small village where they lived, the woman entered the kitchen, scooped out a small half-bowl of bran rice from the bottom of the jar, which was hidden tightly, and then blocked the chimney before saying to the little boy beside her, who was staring at her expectantly:

"Go fetch some water back. Remember, if you meet someone on the road who asks, don't say that we are going to cook porridge."

"Mom, I know!"

Seeing that the woman was indeed going to cook porridge, the little boy was overjoyed and immediately picked up a bucket and ran out of the yard, heading straight for the only well in the village.

He ran as fast as he could, wanting to drink the hot rice porridge as soon as possible.

As for the woman's instructions before he left, they were not needed, because he did not meet anyone on the way.

Oh, except for a young man in black clothes.

The man's eyes were very dark, so that the little boy felt a little dizzy in his head after only one glance.

But he was more concerned about the white steamed bun in the former's hand.

"Want to eat it?"

"Want, want."

"Then eat it here."

"Can, can I take it home and eat it with my mom..."

"..."

"Zhu'er! Zhu'er!!"

After an unknown amount of time, a series of shrill wails suddenly echoed throughout the small village.

The disheveled woman cried heart-wrenchingly, but the little boy in her arms could no longer give her any response.

"Zhu'er! Wake up! Look at Mom!"

The woman kept shaking the boy, seemingly hoping that the latter would suddenly open his eyes at some point.

However, only a white steamed bun with only one bite taken out of it fell from the boy's arms to the ground, rolling to the woman's feet covered with dust and weeds.

"..."

"Ol, Old Sir, can I take it back and eat it with my mom..."

"Are you willing?"

"Will, willing..."

"..."

"What a pity."