Chapter 27: A Living Person?

Young men in the prime of their vitality are said to ward off evil spirits; this has been an old saying in China since ancient times. Martial artists, especially those who cultivate powerful internal energy, can harm such ghosts with their own life force. This was precisely why Zhang Heng managed to hold out until Ning Xiu arrived before collapsing. Of course, the main reason was that the ghost had only recently taken form and was still weak.

With a shriek, the vengeful spirit was cleaved in two by Ning Xiu’s blade, yet she did not vanish. She glared fixedly at him, her voice ringing even more sharply with resentment and indignation. Before she could begin to heal, another slash fell. One stroke after another, Ning Xiu’s expression grew more ferocious.

“I refuse to believe you cannot be killed!” he growled.

No one knew how many times he struck before finally stopping. The woman in red had been slain and regenerated repeatedly, but this time she discovered she could no longer heal. The wound that ran from her forehead down the length of her body burned with searing pain. She tried several times to merge her form, but was unable—her very soul had been wounded.

With a piercing scream, the ghost in red glared at Ning Xiu and, in an instant, her entire body exploded.

“Sir...”

“Quiet.” Ning Xiu raised his right hand, halting Xiao Cui’s words.

He suddenly heard a series of indistinct, ragged breaths in the darkness. Turning, he saw that the corpses lying scattered on the ground were all rising, shambling toward them with jerky, unsteady steps. The grisly wounds and rotting limbs brought Feng Chu to his mind.

The only difference was that these corpses seemed utterly mindless, reduced to nothing but walking dead. Moreover, their movements were slow—slower even than an ordinary man’s pace. Under normal circumstances, Ning Xiu and his companions could have left with ease, but now they were surrounded on all sides. If these monsters’ bodies were as resilient as Feng Chu’s, escaping unscathed today would be no easy feat.

Glancing at Xiao Cui and Zhang Heng behind him, Ning Xiu said in a low voice, “Help Uncle Zhang and stay close to me.”

He discarded his steel blade, took up the black iron great saber from Zhang Heng’s hands, chose a direction, and pressed forward.

A guttural howl rose from the horde of creatures. Bereft of reason, they knew only slaughter. Scenting the living, they hurled themselves madly at Ning Xiu.

“Die!” Ning Xiu channeled his full strength, his saber infused with the power of the Nine Suns Art as he swung forward.

A sharp whistling split the air; heads burst apart one after another, blood spraying in all directions. For a moment, Ning Xiu was stunned by the scene, but soon realized his earlier mistake. These villagers had been ordinary people in life—how could they compare to Feng Chu?

“Move!” he commanded.

Shielding Xiao Cui and Zhang Heng, Ning Xiu fought his way forward, the black blood soaking through his clothes. Though he could not avoid every attack amid the sea of monsters, the Nine Suns Art protected his body, and he suffered no injuries.

He glanced at the two red lanterns by the distant village gate, murmuring, “Hold on, we’re almost there.”

Xiao Cui’s eyes, too, were filled with resolve and hope as she looked toward the lanterns.

Just then, a swift whistling sound cut through the air. Ning Xiu’s head snapped up, his pupils contracting as dozens of flaming arrows streaked overhead and landed within the village.

In an instant, the arrows—each wrapped with oil-soaked cloth—set the thatched roofs and timber ablaze. Even in the frigid winter night, the flames spread rapidly, the inferno casting Ning Xiu’s face in a crimson glow.

He turned and saw that the monsters were clearly terrified of the fire. Their agonized screams pierced the night.

“Go!” he shouted.

Seizing the moment, Ning Xiu scooped Xiao Cui into his arms, gripped Zhang Heng with his other hand, and, channeling his inner strength, leapt seven or eight meters in a single bound.

In a few breaths, they had broken through the encirclement.

Though Ning Xiu had mentally prepared himself, he was still taken aback when he saw the dense ring of armed men waiting outside the village—no less than a hundred strong.

Yet compared to Ning Xiu, the men outside were far more astonished, their faces frozen in disbelief and shock.

At that moment, a man with a torch came walking up.

“Boss, rest assured, we’ve set the firewood on all four sides of the village alight.”

“Boss?”

“What’s wrong with you lot?” Huang San was puzzled by his companions’ strange behavior. He had only gone to light a fire—why was everyone looking so stunned upon his return?

He noticed all eyes were fixed behind him. Was something there? At last, a realization dawned on him, and he turned abruptly—only to see Ning Xiu, his entire body soaked in black blood.

“The corpse puppet’s escaped!” Huang San shrieked and bolted.

“Didn’t they say the corpse puppets fear fire? How did he get out? Boss, kill him quickly!” Huang San shouted, cowering behind a middle-aged man.

His cries snapped the others out of their daze; clearly, the words “corpse puppet” had frightened them, and they drew their blades one after another.

“Wait!” the middle-aged leader raised his hand, stopping his men.

“A living man?” He stared at Ning Xiu. When Ning Xiu nodded, his expression eased.

Ning Xiu was about to speak when Xiao Cui suddenly exclaimed, “Isn’t that Chief Jin from the county?”

Following her gaze, Ning Xiu spotted a fat man in constable’s garb among the crowd—it was Jin Sui, the constable from Shouchun County.

The Ning family’s business in Shouchun was vast, giving them influence within the county offices as well, and Jin Sui was one of their connections.

Only now did Ning Xiu notice that there were several others in constable uniforms among the crowd. Most, however, wore matching outfits distinguished only by the embroidery on their lapels—the leader’s bore four green bamboo stalks, while most had one, and a few had two.

Jin Sui, having heard Xiao Cui, stepped forward in surprise. “Isn’t this Xiao Cui from the Ning household? What are you doing here?”

He looked at Ning Xiu, hesitated, and asked, “Young Master Xiu, is that you?”

“It is,” Ning Xiu replied hoarsely.

“You know each other?” the middle-aged leader asked.

As the question left his lips, Jin Sui hurried over, dragging his plump frame, and whispered into the leader’s ear, gesturing toward Ning Xiu and his companions, clearly explaining the situation.