Something had torn his throat wide open. The flesh around the wound gaped outward, an eerie blackish-purple, while blood had spilled all over the ground and congealed into dark clots.
The wound looked nothing like it had been made by a knife or sword. It truly resembled the work of a wild beast’s claws.
Some people in the group screamed, others wept hysterically, and still others ran about in a frenzy. The air was thick with the stench of blood and the aura of death.
Panic spread among the survivors like a plague.
Everyone was convinced that the vengeful ghost haunting the house had come to claim another life.
Constable Wang’s face had turned ashen. The death of a government runner was a serious matter. The group had to stop and could go no farther. He needed to report the case to the local authorities and have a coroner examine the body to determine the cause of death.
After cursing their bad luck several times, he ordered the group to rest where they were and forbade anyone from moving about alone. He and Zhang Dapeng then rode to the local yamen to report the death.
It seemed as though the sky had been pierced, for the rain showed no sign of stopping.
Everyone huddled in a corner, enduring the hours in an atmosphere of repression and terror.
No one spoke, and no one could stomach any food.
Despair and suspicion showed in every person’s eyes.
Village Chief Sun stood outside the courtyard gate, gazing from a distance at the grisly scene within. He shook his head and sighed, muttering, “You reap what you sow. If you refuse to heed your elders’ warnings, you’ll suffer for it…”
He was carrying a large tray piled with green rice cakes—several dozen of them.
“You must all be hungry. Come and have something to eat.”
Yet no one moved.
Even when a few children could not resist approaching to take one, their parents dragged them back.
The death of the government runner had left the entire group on edge, making them see danger in everything. No one dared eat food offered by a stranger.
Village Chief Sun grew somewhat anxious. “You’ve been hungry all the way here, and today you haven’t had a drop of water. How can you go on without eating?”
No one answered him. Some did not even raise their eyes.
Zhan Haochen cupped his fists toward him. “I’m truly sorry, Chief. We have no appetite. I’m afraid we’ll have to decline your kind offer.”
Village Chief Sun paused. “Are you afraid these rice cakes are poisoned?”
He picked up one of the green cakes and finished it in two or three bites.
“There. You see? They aren’t poisoned.”
Still, no one was moved.
The Zhan family was a prominent clan, and they had seen every kind of underhanded trick. If someone truly intended to tamper with the food, there were countless ways to conceal it.
A flash of malice passed through Village Chief Sun’s eyes. In the end, he sighed and stopped trying to persuade them, carrying the tray over to the constables instead.
The constables refused as well.
However, one fat man in the Zhan family’s party swallowed hard and quietly followed the village chief away.
A while later, he returned with two green rice cakes and crouched in a corner, devouring them greedily.
…
Constable Wang was gone for most of the day. It was not until late afternoon that he hurried back with several officers and a coroner.
The coroner’s examination concluded that the government runner had been killed by a wild beast, ruling out homicide. He then prepared a written report explaining the cause of death. Everyone who had witnessed the incident pressed their fingerprints onto it, and Constable Wang signed his name.
The officers took away the report and sent the body to the mortuary.
By the time everything had been dealt with, night had fallen as expected.
To prevent another tragedy, Constable Wang ordered everyone to gather in the main hall. The constables drew their swords and formed a circle around the prisoners, shielding them in the middle.
Several bonfires were also lit around them, illuminating the entire area.
The candlelight flickered unsteadily, casting twisted, swaying shadows on the walls like snarling ghosts.
Yet the wailing and ghostly lights appeared again. This time, they were clearer, as though they were circling right above the roof.
They were accompanied by the sharp sound of fingernails scraping against wooden boards—scratch, scratch—sending chills down everyone’s spine.
“It’s here… It’s back…” someone cried out in despair.
The Zhan family’s fat man suddenly pointed out the window. His fleshy body trembled violently with fear as he screamed hoarsely, “Outside! There’s a white face! No features!”
Before the words had fully left his mouth, his eyes bulged wide, the whites protruding. His body convulsed sharply. His stubby hands clawed desperately at his own throat, tearing his skin open until blood streamed down. His face and neck turned bluish-purple at a visible speed.
Soon, blood-tinged foam spilled from the corners of his mouth. His body suddenly stiffened, and he toppled straight backward.
The scene was so bizarre that everyone stood frozen in shock. Only after a long while did someone approach him. By then, he had already stopped breathing. His neck was covered in dark-purple scratch marks, as though a wild beast had mauled him—the exact same manner of death as the bailiff.
This horrifying turn of events completely shattered everyone’s last shred of composure.
“Someone’s dead!” No one knew who shouted those words first, but the main hall erupted into chaos.
A vengeful ghost had claimed another life—and in the midst of a gathered crowd, with constables standing guard!
People fled and hid like mad. “Don’t panic!” Constable Wang shouted. “Don’t run off or hide alone—you’ll give whoever’s behind this an opening!”
But no one could remain calm.
They all believed that the killer was not human, but some unseen evil spirit—something invisible and untouchable, impossible to defend against. It was like a blade hanging above their heads, ready to fall at any moment. Who knew whether they might be next?
Cheng Yao realized that she could not stay here any longer.
But she did not believe in evil spirits. She could tell this was the work of a human hand.
The dead man had clearly been poisoned.
People were more terrifying than ghosts. This residence was undoubtedly a carefully arranged death trap.
No one knew who the next target would be.
She took out a bottle containing medicine that, in her previous life, had been distributed by the state as an antidote for zombie poison.
Then she took out a large syringe and drew the medicine into it.
She had stored quite a bit of this medicine in her space. She did not know whether it could counter this particular poison, but she had added a drop of spirit spring water. At a critical moment, it might at least save a life.
Just then, amid the chaos, someone tried to rush out of the main hall. The bailiffs drew their blades to suppress them.
“Anyone who dares to run will be treated as an escaping criminal and executed on the spot!”
But in the darkness, the crowd was in utter disarray. People trampled one another as screams and sobs filled the entire hall.
Zhan Haochen was carrying Zhan Haoting on his back when the surging crowd shoved him aside. He staggered, barely able to keep his footing.
Guided by her instincts, Cheng Yao grabbed hold of Zhan Haochen and carefully avoided the crowd. She led him deeper into the residence, where they slipped into a side room.
It seemed to be an abandoned ancestral hall, crammed with broken furniture and miscellaneous junk. In one corner stood a thin wooden coffin coated in dust, and the stale smell of rotten timber and old dust rushed into their nostrils.
Perhaps this family had prepared the coffin for one of their elders, but before it could be used, the village had already been abandoned.
It was an excellent place to hide.
Cheng Yao had the two Zhan brothers hide behind the coffin and whispered, “Stay here. Don’t make a sound.”
Zhan Haochen was worried. “But Mother and Little Sister…”
“I’ll go find them.”
Cheng Yao had just turned to leave when she suddenly froze.
The faint sound of footsteps was approaching. It was too late for her to go out, so she withdrew and crouched down with the Zhan brothers.
Zhan Haochen didn’t have senses as sharp as hers and still couldn’t hear the footsteps. He looked at her in confusion. “Sister-in-law?”
“Shh. Someone’s coming.”
Zhan Haochen could only obediently remain still.
Outside, the cries and shouts of reprimand in the main hall gradually died down. The bailiffs had probably brought the situation under control.
But the ensuing silence was even more unsettling. The pounding rain also concealed many faint sounds.
No one knew how much time had passed. Just as Zhan Haochen’s hands and feet had nearly gone numb and he was beginning to doubt himself, the door to the side room was pushed open with the faintest creak.
A chilling gust of wind swept in with it.
