Chapter 34: Qian Family Village (4)

Wu Zui rolled all the bandages from the first aid kit into balls, then soaked each one thoroughly with his own blood from the bottle. With so much blood, if they managed to set the monster ablaze, it would be lucky to survive unscathed—even if it didn’t die, it would be gravely wounded, giving the two of them a chance to escape and seek outside help.

“A slingshot? But Master, isn’t that ghost hiding inside the coffin? We still can’t hit its true body!” Xiao Keyan fiddled with the slingshot Wu Zui had fashioned, a look of confusion on her face as she spoke to him.

“Dummy, those black threads are everywhere and connected to the inside of the coffin. If we ignite them all, it’s the same effect.” Wu Zui ruffled Xiao Keyan’s fluffy hair, speaking in a tone reserved for fools.

Xiao Keyan batted his hand away and helped him soak the remaining bandages in blood. Before long, they had dozens of rounds of ammunition!

“When I go bash it up, you’ll watch the area. If any other ghosts come to interfere, you handle them—but don’t stray too far from me!” Wu Zui stowed the blood-soaked bandage balls and reminded Xiao Keyan firmly.

“Don’t worry, Master, just go give it a beating!” Xiao Keyan replied, banging her two hammers together with a resounding clang.

The two quickly got out of the car. Xiao Keyan stood watch behind Wu Zui, carefully scanning their surroundings. Wu Zui looked up at the black coffin hovering in the sky. On closer inspection, he saw the black threads within the cracks ferrying some sort of crimson substance inside—he couldn’t tell what it was.

In truth, the coffin was currently digesting the resentment energy it had harvested from other ghosts, along with some of the underground fleshly power in the vicinity, leaving it too preoccupied to pay attention to the pair.

Wu Zui loaded a bandage ball into the slingshot and fired at the black threads peeking from the coffin’s seams.

A hiss—instantly, black smoke curled from the threads, and the blood-soaked sections swiftly ignited. Wu Zui seized the moment to fire two or three more shots, and the flames licking the threads grew ever fiercer.

A shrill wail—anger and fury seeped from the coffin’s depths. After all, who wouldn’t be enraged if interrupted during a meal?

The black threads began to retreat rapidly into the coffin. Where once the coffin had been pitch black, now rusty red spots blossomed across its surface. As the last of the threads slipped away, Wu Zui hurled every remaining bandage ball he had.

Another pair of furious shrieks tore through the air. Bandage balls striking the coffin’s surface began to blaze. Black miasma poured from the coffin’s seams, clashing with the fire in open combat.

Could it be that the coffin itself is the true body? Wu Zui wondered. He tore off a large piece of his shirt, wary of the black threads, and used the golden long sword to reopen a wound on his left wrist.

The shirt fragment, heavy with fresh blood, was hefted in his right hand and slammed directly onto the coffin.

In an instant, the black resentment energy—so close to extinguishing the flames—was forced back. The entire side of the rust-red coffin erupted in fire.

With a thunderous crash, the coffin lid was flung aside, spinning through the air to land in the dirt nearby.

A deathly pale left hand reached from within and gripped the coffin’s edge. From the opening, a humanoid figure sat up, clad in a vivid red burial shroud, long hair spilling down—a woman’s form.

Suddenly, the woman inside the coffin turned her head. Her face, bloodless and lined with deep wrinkles, radiated malice. Her eyes were hollow and black as pitch, her hair writhing like venomous snakes. This ghastly visage startled both Wu Zui and Xiao Keyan.

The ghostly woman raised her left hand, drawing resentment energy from all around and coiling it about her arm. The concentration of such energy began to destabilize the already confined space, but she paid it no heed.

She slapped her left hand down upon the raging flames; as soon as they met, much of the resentment energy was vaporized. So much energy, yet it failed to snuff out the fire. Instead, the flames climbed the energy itself, racing toward her hand. The ghost hastily cut off the supply, lest the fire turn on her.

She gathered energy in both hands and pressed them against the burning side of the coffin. Only then did the flames begin to subside.

During the gap as the female corpse fought the fire, Wu Zui called out without looking back, “Hand me the bottle!”

Xiao Keyan quickly passed it over.

Wu Zui’s left wrist still bled freely, and before long he filled the 300-milliliter bottle. He screwed the cap on, took aim, and threw it at the coffin.

The bottle arced above the corpse’s head. She glanced up, fear flickering in her eyes. As she moved to bat it away, Wu Zui drew his pistol and shot the bottle in midair.

Blood showered down upon the ghostly woman. Flames burst anew from the coffin, and she howled in agony. The fresh fire, coupled with the still-smoldering flames outside, attacked her from both within and without.

At that moment, the resentment energy and fleshly power streaming toward the coffin abruptly ceased. The ghost’s screams grew weaker, yet she made no attempt to leave the coffin—she simply burned to ashes inside.

The now rust-red coffin, with its master gone, fell from the air, shattering to pieces on impact. The red rust began to spread from the fragments like a viral blight.

Wherever the rust touched, grass and trees withered instantly, crumbling to ash. Even lifeless things—stone, metal—were swiftly covered in red corrosion. From a distance, the entire village center exuded an air of decay and desolation, as though abandoned for ages.

“Get in the car! Go, now!”

Wu Zui shouted for Xiao Keyan to hop in, then slammed the accelerator and sped away.

Who knows what would happen if that ghostly rust touched our bodies?

With the coffin and its monster destroyed, the confined space began to collapse, allowing Wu Zui and Xiao Keyan to escape.

They drove to the boundary of the village’s sealed domain. There, at the edge, a disheveled woman in tattered clothes wandered aimlessly. Her vacant eyes and stumbling gait suggested she’d suffered a profound shock.

She almost seemed alive.

“What do we do, Master?” Xiao Keyan asked, turning to Wu Zui.

Wu Zui glanced at the expanding rust behind them; its spread was slow, decelerating the farther it got from the village center. He smeared his blood along the back of his golden sword before telling Xiao Keyan, “Wait in the car!”

He approached the woman with sword in hand. She paid him no mind, wandering as before. Wu Zui struck her back with the blunt side of the sword. She collapsed, but no flames erupted from her body.

She’s human!

Once certain, Wu Zui knelt by her side. The shock, combined with his sudden blow, had rendered her unconscious. He checked her over—she was unharmed—so he left her for now. Their priority was escape.

Though the sealed space was unraveling, the female corpse of Qianjia Village had been far more formidable than the lizard aberration; even now, getting out was no easy feat.

Wu Zui approached the wall of resentment energy. The golden sword, slick with his blood, crackled with blue magnetic light as he slashed, carving a foot-long gash. After several more strikes, he opened a large hole. This time, instead of closing rapidly, the breach widened, the controlling ghost’s demise leaving it unchecked.

Wu Zui hefted the ragged woman and signaled Xiao Keyan to bring the car. She pulled up, and Wu Zui tossed the woman into the trunk—there were only two seats, after all; neither he nor Xiao Keyan would ride in back.

Once Wu Zui was aboard, Xiao Keyan drove them beyond the bounds of Qianjia Village’s sealed domain.

“Keep going—farther!” Wu Zui instructed after their escape.

He dialed the monster-handling center. Though the ghost had been slain, that spreading red rust was clearly a threat. He needed experienced investigators from the province to ensure nothing was left unchecked.

After Wu Zui described the situation, the center quickly recognized the severity and promised to dispatch veteran investigators at once. Wu Zui, for his part, would need to remain on-site for the handover.

While Wu Zui kept an eye on the encroaching rust, Xiao Keyan hurried to bandage his wounds—the last of the bandages were gone, so she tore up his shirt for makeshift dressings.

Once finished, she returned to the car and pulled out her notebook, searching for information on Qianjia Village. The red rust resembled dried blood; if the village had once been a battlefield, it might explain things.

But Xiao Keyan found no records of ancient battles. Instead, she discovered unofficial accounts from the last century detailing human sacrifice in the hills near Haishan—not the traditional offerings of pigs, cows, or sheep, but the ritual slaughter of living people.

According to these unverified tales, the bloody practice continued until the late twentieth century. Haishan was just behind Qianjia Village, less than five kilometers away.

“Master—come look at this!” Xiao Keyan called, waving her small hand excitedly.

“What is it?” Wu Zui walked over to her, though his gaze lingered on the village.

“Master, there may have been human sacrifices in Qianjia Village last century, just over in Haishan behind the village. Do you think this could be connected to the red rust?”

Xiao Keyan was visibly excited. If her hunch was right, this would be the first time she’d uncovered the truth faster than Wu Zui.