Chapter 131: The Potential for Survival

Zhao Fusheng stood a mere step away from the swarm of ghosts, clearly seeing the stone pillar that anchored the safety of the Ghost Mausoleum trembling violently under the rhythmic pounding of the restless spirits.

The influence of the ghost domain blurred her vision. With the area packed tight with layer upon layer of malevolent spirits, she had no way of distinguishing which one was the true master of this place. As far as the eye could see, there were only thralls.

The swarm shifted their chaotic, destructive rhythm at her arrival, yet they showed no signs of attacking her. Her initial apprehension proved to be a false alarm. Bolstered by this, her courage returned. She took a deep breath, suppressed her instinct to retreat, stepped forward, and wrapped her arms around the waist of one of the thralls.

The previous encounter where Zhang and Fan held hands with the spirits proved that these thralls did not immediately kill. Whether because they had been transformed into thralls after death, these spirits possessed physical bodies that could be grasped. As soon as she secured a hold, she bent her knees slightly and heaved the entity onto her shoulder.

Though recently deceased, the corpse was ice-cold, feeling like a stone that had been frozen for ages. The moment she embraced it, she felt as if her own blood were about to freeze. The malevolent spirit she commanded, which had been in a state of temporary dormancy, began to stir in response to the oppressive ghost energy.

"..."

Zhang Chuanshi was so terrified that bile rose in his throat, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He had never expected Zhao Fusheng to be so daring and bold; she had grabbed a reanimated spirit without a moment's hesitation.

As Zhao Fusheng retreated swiftly while carrying the ghost, Magistrate Pang and Zhang Chuanshi instinctively prepared to flee. The scene was terrifying, yet possessed a bizarre, absurd, and comical quality. Had the atmosphere and environment not been so grim, Zhang Chuanshi might have even laughed. Instead, he felt like crying.

"..." Fan Bisi was equally terrified. However, Zhao Fusheng’s successful capture of a spirit gave him a surge of encouragement. Before his courage could fade, he stepped forward and quickly seized another thrall.

The two retreated to the edge of the mausoleum's seal, where Zhao Fusheng set the ghost down. The moment the dead body touched the ground, it began to move its stiff legs, attempting to walk back. The ghost's hands remained raised in mid-air, still mimicking the motion of digging. The stench of blood was so overwhelming that Zhang Chuanshi’s legs turned to jelly.

Zhang Chuanshi’s face turned ashen as he frantically backed away.

"Old Zhang—"

Before Zhao Fusheng could finish, the thrall took two steps forward. Fortunately, Zhao Fusheng was quick-eyed and gripped the creature by its collar, preventing it from leaving and rendering their efforts futile.

"Don't call me, don't call me—" Zhang Chuanshi hung his head, whispering incessantly, "You can't see me, you can't see me—"

Ignoring him, Zhao Fusheng commanded, "Hold onto it."

"I..." Zhang Chuanshi’s face crumbled as he prepared to refuse, but Zhao Fusheng’s expression darkened, and she barked, "Hold it!"

Intimidated by her ferocity, Zhang Chuanshi wilted. His body reacted faster than his mind; before he knew it, his hands were locked tightly onto the ghost’s clothing.

Just then, Fan Bisi returned carrying another ghost. Setting it down, he echoed, "Old Zhang, hold this one too."

Having seen the thrall attempt to return to the pillar earlier, Fan Bisi had become vigilant and followed suit, forcing Zhang Chuanshi to restrain this one as well.

"..."

Zhang Chuanshi wanted to curse, but when it came to ghost cases, Zhao Fusheng never wavered. He had already refused to carry a ghost; to refuse again would surely invite her wrath. Having been dragged into trouble by Fan Bisi three times that night, he harbored a grudge, but tearfully extended his other hand to hold the second ghost.

Zhao Fusheng and Fan Bisi turned back to fetch more. With the success of this "ghost-snatching" operation, Fan Bisi’s fear subsided significantly. However, that fear did not vanish; it merely transferred to Zhang Chuanshi and Magistrate Pang.

Zhang Chuanshi was not strong, and the pressure of restraining two thralls was immense. These entities were dead, yet they moved. Through the blood-stained clothes, he could feel the two masses of dead flesh struggling violently. Their strength was staggering, even manifesting a "reverse pull" that dragged him, a frail man, toward the swarm.

Zhang Chuanshi arched his back, digging his heels into the ground, trying to resist their force. But he was merely a thin, shriveled man of fifty; he was no match for the two ghosts.

"Ah—"

A heart-wrenching scream tore from his throat as he was dragged forward. Magistrate Pang, already trembling with terror, realized the situation was dire. With so many spirits present, Zhao Fusheng and Fan Bisi were preoccupied with removing the ghosts from the pillar. Zhang Chuanshi had hoped to avoid this dangerous task, but it was clear he could no longer escape.

Seeing no other choice, Magistrate Pang shouted, "Lord Zhao, I will help too!" He preferred to carry the dead than be forced to hold onto two struggling corpses that might drag him into the abyss.

"Lord, save me—" Zhang Chuanshi continued to shriek.

Zhao Fusheng, returning with another thrall, saw Zhang Chuanshi’s plight and wanted to help, but her hands were full. These thralls were troublesome because they automatically returned to the pillar; they could not be easily incapacitated. After several rounds, their efforts seemed in vain.

"This won't work," Zhao Fusheng frowned. "We are too few."

Fan Bisi breathed a sigh of relief, having thought the same. "If we had weapons, we could break their legs. If the thralls were shorter, perhaps they wouldn't be able to reach the seal."

"A good suggestion, Brother Fan," Zhao Fusheng praised with a smile.

In truth, Fan Bisi's plan wouldn't work. These corpses were frozen solid and hardened by the reanimation process. Zhao Fusheng knew from carrying them that they were far denser and harder than living flesh; ordinary blades would struggle to disable them. Even a strong man would find it difficult to fell so many in time. But given that they were facing malevolent spirits, Fan Bisi’s ability to suggest a plan amidst his terror was commendable.

As she praised him, Zhang Chuanshi was nearly dragged back into the swarm by his two captives. He let go just in time, collapsing to the ground, shivering.

"Moving them is too slow," Zhao Fusheng muttered, looking at the seal that continued to chime under the ghosts' assault. "I have another method—"

She glanced at Zhang Chuanshi with a sly smile. "Old Zhang, how are you holding up?"

"I... I can't do it anymore—" Zhang Chuanshi waved his hands frantically. "Lord, I really can't. I am old and weak, my blood is thin—"

"If you were running for your life, could you stand?" Zhao Fusheng asked gently.

"..."

Fan Bisi felt something was amiss. The ghosts were destroying the seal, yet Zhao Fusheng seemed overly concerned with Zhang Chuanshi’s safety. A bad premonition arose. He watched as Zhang Chuanshi, hearing the words "run for your life," scrambled to his feet.

"Lord, are we leaving the Ghost Mausoleum?"

"Soon," Zhao Fusheng nodded with a smile. "But before we go, I have a task for you."

"W-what task?" Zhang Chuanshi was instantly on guard. He wasn't stupid; he sensed something abnormal about her behavior. Just as he prepared to refuse, Zhao Fusheng said, "It's nothing major. I have a treasure, and I want you to hold it for me."

"???"

Fan Bisi felt a surge of envy and curiosity. Zhao Fusheng had no treasures before, but perhaps she had acquired something while handling previous cases. Why give it to Zhang Chuanshi and not him?

"Is it true, Lord?" Zhang Chuanshi was skeptical. He had learned the patterns of Zhao Fusheng’s behavior; she was not one to abandon a case halfway. She had said she could reinforce the seal, so there was no reason to retreat now.

"Of course," Zhao Fusheng nodded. "Come here, I'll give it to you."

"You aren't lying to me, are you?"

"Stop chattering!" Zhao Fusheng snapped. "Come here. This treasure can even bribe a ghost—"

At these words, a realization struck Fan Bisi like a thunderbolt. He knew exactly what she was giving him: the "life-buying coin" spat out by the ghost that Zheng He had commanded—the coin even ghosts coveted.

Zhang Chuanshi, still wary, was tempted by the mention of a treasure. He stepped forward, smiling obsequiously. "I knew you favored me, Lord—"

Zhao Fusheng had no time for pleasantries. The seal was weakening, and the black mist grew thicker by the second. Every moment they delayed meant more innocent lives lost in Wan'an County. She focused her intent and withdrew the coin from the hellish void.

The moment the coin appeared, the clanging against the seal ceased abruptly. Zhang Chuanshi felt a chill in his palm as Zhao Fusheng pressed something into it. The object was freezing, damp, and emitted an aura that made his skin crawl.

He weighed it instinctively. Drawing on his years of experience as a merchant, he recognized the shape of a coin with a square hole. He looked down to see a coin stained with eerie black water resting in his palm.

"Why give me a single coin—"

Before he could finish, Zhao Fusheng shouted, "Run!"

He obeyed instinctively, bolting away.

"The ghosts are coming, Old Zhang," Fan Bisi added, pouring oil on the fire.

Confused, Zhang Chuanshi turned back—and saw a pale, withered spirit emerging from the swarm near the stone pillar. It held a sharp, blood-dripping awl, which it slowly drove into the gaping hole in its own chest. Sensing the aura of the coin, the spirit shifted from solid to phantom, passing through the thralls and heading straight for Zhang Chuanshi.

The ghost’s target was clear: the life-buying coin. Its aura locked onto him instantly.

"AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!"

A scream tore from Zhang Chuanshi’s throat. "Zhao Fusheng!!! You’ve doomed me!!!"

He finally understood. She was too tired to drag the thralls away and found it inefficient, so she devised a plan to lure the source of the malevolence away.

"AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!"

The true malevolent spirit was a thousand times more terrifying than the thralls, shifting between reality and shadow. Wherever the black shadow passed, the spirit solidified, its black claws reaching for him. Zhang Chuanshi ran with such desperate intensity that his feet seemed to ignite. The ghost pursued relentlessly, with the thralls slowly shuffling behind.

"..."

Fan Bisi watched as Zhang Chuanshi vanished into the black mist. He remarked, "Old Zhang certainly runs fast."

Indeed, when a person is running for their life, their potential is truly boundless.