Chapter 154 Searching the Village

Chapter 154

The head’s old mansion in Zhuangjia Village was located deep within the very center of the settlement. A spacious courtyard was built around it, and although it had seen many years, it appeared noticeably grander and more imposing compared to the other humble dwellings.

At this moment, the two grand gate leaves were half-hidden—one slightly ajar, the other wide open.

Over the course of several days, weeds had sprouted within the courtyard, exuding a faint, hard-to-pinpoint scent of blood.

Gou Fourth led Zhao Fusheng here, not daring to even crane his neck to look inside. He babbled nervously:

"My lord, the head of Zhuangjia Village lives right here."

Zhao Fusheng nodded, stepped past Gou Fourth, took several paces forward, and came to a halt right before the courtyard gates.

She drew out the ghost arm, utilizing its power to push the half-open door further inward. With a creaking groan, the gate swung sluggishly open, releasing a faint stench of rotting corpses mingled with the reek of blood from the courtyard.

Gou Fourth dry-heached once, casting a nervous, uneasy glance at the ghost arm in Zhao Fusheng's hand.

This ghost arm was clearly the severed limb of a corpse, its hue an unnatural grayish-brown, faintly radiating a foul odor.

He had previously witnessed with his own eyes how Zhao Fusheng used this object to strike Zhuang Seventh after the latter was influenced by the malevolent spirit. The severed arm had actually revived back then, making it terrifyingly macabre.

Right now, as the ghost arm pushed the door open, it showed no abnormal reactions, save for its fingers trembling incessantly. Zhao Fusheng's tightly strung nerves relaxed ever so slightly:

"It seems there is temporarily no malevolent spirit aura within this house."

Since the ghost arm was not suppressed, it was clear no supernatural entity existed here.

With this thought, Zhao Fusheng stepped into the house.

Gou Fourth did not dare to follow her in, but when he looked back over his shoulder, thick fog shrouded the surroundings entirely. Ever since tragedy struck Zhuangjia Village, this place had practically become a ghost town, as if, apart from the two of them, no other living souls remained in existence.

After the members of the Demon Suppression Bureau split up to act individually, only he and Zhao Fusheng were paired together. The moment Zhao Fusheng stepped inside, she left him all alone outside the threshold.

If a ghost were to appear, he would undoubtedly die without a burial site.

Various bizarre methods of death surged into Gou Fourth's mind like hallucinations. Scared out of his wits, he practically scrambled into the house, crawling closely by Zhao Fusheng's side.

Zhao Fusheng ignored Gou Fourth's actions. As long as he wasn't completely foolish, he wouldn't wander about recklessly.

Upon entering the courtyard, she simply held up the ghost arm vigilantly, sweeping it around to survey the surroundings.

The courtyard appeared to have been desolate for some time.

To the left of the entrance grew a large, unnamed tree with a trunk roughly as thick as a person could embrace, but it had already mysteriously withered and died.

Directly opposite the tree on the right side stood a thatched lean-to, equipped with a stove, pots, and bowls, with some firewood piled up in the rear.

Zhao Fusheng made her way toward the kitchen, where a large pot sat perched over a stove. She lifted the fitted lid, and a stench of burnt food mixed with sour rot rushed out from within.

The bottom of the pot was charred black, coated with a layer of paste-like food, as if the family had been cooking a meal right before leaving when the incident occurred.

She put the lid back on and pondered to herself: villagers under the governance of the Great Han Dynasty were mostly impoverished. Although the village head's household was somewhat better off than ordinary villagers, it could not be by much.

If a family planned to go out, it was impossible for them to cook food for no reason and leave it uneaten.

It was highly likely that the event struck suddenly, causing a crisis while the village head's family was cooking, forcing them to flee in haste without a thought for their home.

"Gou Fourth, push open all the room doors."

Zhao Fusheng instructed, pushing open a side door herself as she spoke.

The room seemed to have been a place for keeping poultry, but now the fowl were all dead. A stench of rotting corpses mixed with animal manure and mildew assaulted her nostrils. Zhao Fusheng peeked inside, and seeing no human figures or corpses, she quickly shut the door again.

Once the door was secured, the stench was sealed off. She took a slow, deep breath and moved on toward other areas.

Terrified though he was, Gou Fourth knew his life hung in the balance, so he did not dare disobey Zhao Fusheng's commands. He rapidly pushed open the doors to several side chambers. The two of them briefly glanced into each from the doorway before their gazes finally landed on the main hall facing the courtyard gate.

Zhuangjia Village was shrouded in dense fog. Judging by the hour, it should clearly have been daytime, yet the courtyard remained pitch-dark and gloomy.

The main hall received light only through the front entrance, with a bedroom located inside. Looking from the outside in, the hall was deep and somewhat shadowy.

"My lord, it seems there is no one here either."

Gou Fourth hurriedly peeked his head inside, then spoke in a timid voice.

"Let's go inside and take a look."

Zhao Fusheng replied.

With that, she stepped into the house, and Gou Fourth steeled himself to follow behind.

Their arrival broke the silence of the room. The dust that had settled undisturbed for a long time was disturbed, instantly billowing up into the air and mingling with the moisture droplets of the fog.

In the exact center of the village head's main hall stood a long table, and directly facing the entrance were two aged chairs with the paint peeling away around their backs.

As Zhao Fusheng stepped into the main hall, her gaze dropped to the floor.

The ground was made of rammed earth. At a distance of about half a zhang from the two chairs, a pile of unidentified ashes was heaped up.

It looked as though a large bundle of firewood had once been stacked there, leaving behind carbonized sticks of varying lengths after burning out.

"This is—"

At the sight of this, Gou Fourth was taken aback.

***

Having witnessed Zhuang Seventh's death with his own eyes, he instantly guessed that this pile was likely leftover cremated ashes, though he lacked evidence for the moment.

Zhao Fusheng shared his thought and uttered:

"Kuai Manic?"

According to what Zhuang Seventh had said, after disaster struck Kuailiang Village, Kuai Manic had fled to Zhuangjia Village to seek help, and revealed how Fourth-Maiden Zhuang had drowned after illicitly coupling with someone.

As soon as he finished recounting the origins of Kuailiang Village, he had suddenly been hunted down by a malevolent spirit, dying a violent death inside the village head's house.

"It's a pity one can no longer tell if this is human bone..." Gou Fourth sighed.

Zhao Fusheng's gaze flickered:

"Logically speaking, if Kuai Manic's method of death was identical to Zhuang Seventh's, then after death his flesh and blood would surely have liquefied, his head and body separated, and his skeleton turned snow-white, until encountering certain conditions that caused the bones to blossom."

Once the blossoms bloomed, the skeletal remains would wither and decay, subsequently turning into ash.

Seven or eight days had passed since then, and the blossoms on those bones must have already rotted away, but judging by Zhuang Seventh's case, the skull should still be somewhere nearby.

The surrounding area of the main hall in the village head's house was not particularly spacious; jars and pots were arrayed all around, with miscellaneous farming goods piled in the corners.

However, the exact center of the hall was kept very neat and clean, with very few clutter.

Zhao Fusheng's gaze landed on the two chairs. Behind the chairs was a slender table, upon which sat an incense burner. A niche had been hollowed out into the wall above, holding a simple clay-molded divine statue.

A filthy red cloth draped over the table, hanging straight down to the floor, blocking the space behind the table completely.

"My lord."

Seeing her stare in a trance at the divine niche, Gou Fourth called out cautiously.

Right at that moment, hurried footsteps suddenly echoed from outside. Gou Fourth, accustomed to the dead silence of this village, was so startled by the sudden sound that he gave a start and bounded to Zhao Fusheng's side. Just as he was about to speak, Zhang Chuanshi's voice rang out from outside:

"My lord."

Zhao Fusheng did not answer, but Gou Fourth hastily called out:

"My lord is right here."

As he spoke, Zhao Fusheng walked past the pile of withered bone ashes. She counted the steps—it was about three or four paces away from the wooden chairs and the long table. If Kuai Manic had died the moment he finished speaking that day, his head might well have rolled to this spot.

Zhao Fusheng walked over to the chairs, pushed the two chairs apart, and flipped up the red cloth shielding the table with a single motion.

Sure enough, right beneath the slender table legs lay a pitch-black, withered skull, glaring with a pair of hollow eyes, staring straight in the direction of the skeletal remains, its mouth twisted in agony.

Kuai Manic had been dead for a long time; the skin on his face had dried out and turned black, clinging to his cranium like a layer of aged parchment.

Lacking moisture, his lips could no longer cover his teeth, looking rather ghastly.

Seeing Zhao Fusheng bend down to pick something up, Gou Fourth caught sight of the human head cradled in her arms as she straightened up, prompting him to let out a terrified shriek:

"Ah!!!"

His scream echoed outward, instantly cutting short the footsteps and voices that had been audible outside just moments before, as if Zhang Chuanshi's arrival earlier had merely been an illusion.

"Stop screaming."

Zhao Fusheng chided him. Gou Fourth crossed his hands in terror and clamped them over his mouth.

"My lord, is this, is this—"

Ignoring him, Zhao Fusheng barked:

"Old Zhang, get in here."

After a brief silence outside, Zhang Chuanshi's voice drifted in:

"Old Zhang isn't here."

"..." The space between Zhao Fusheng's brows twitched. A short while later, Zhang Chuanshi cautiously poked half his head out from outside the courtyard gate, scanning the courtyard left and right. Seeing no ghost or specter, he finally dared to reveal himself.

"What were you ghost-shrieking about just now? You scared your Lord Zhang so badly he nearly pissed his pants."

Entering the house, Zhang Chuanshi glared wrathfully at Gou Fourth. Then, seeing Gou Fourth's gaze drop to Zhao Fusheng's hands, Zhang Chuanshi gave a start and finally caught sight of the human skull cradled in Zhao Fusheng's arms.

"This is—" Zhang Chuanshi's expression shifted. His gaze swept around the ground, immediately spotting the pool of bone ashes left on the floor:

"Is that Kuai Manic?"

While the few of them were talking, Fan Wujiu and Wu Shaochun, who had been searching separately along the other directions, also arrived one after another upon hearing the commotion.

Once the members of the Demon Suppression Bureau converged, they all laid eyes upon the bone ashes on the ground and the skull cradled in Zhao Fusheng's hands, instantly guessing the identity of the deceased.

"It seems that although Zhuang Seventh was controlled by the malevolent spirit and some of his memories were inaccurate, he was right about one thing—Kuai Manic indeed came to Zhuangjia Village to seek help that day, and died right here in Zhuangjia Village."

This method of death was completely identical to Zhuang Seventh's previous demise. Zhao Fusheng stated:

"I suspect he too must have suffered head-body separation, liquefied flesh and blood, and blossoming bones—"

"Blossoming?"

Zhang Chuanshi was now terrified at the mere mention of blossoms. He even felt his palms itch and vigorously rubbed them against his trouser legs again:

"We didn't see any blossoms—"

"Could it have been plucked by someone with itchy fingers again?" As soon as Wu Shaochun finished asking, he caught Zhang Chuanshi glaring at him with a malevolent expression, causing him to guiltily look away.

"Unclear."

Zhao Fusheng frowned and shook her head:

"However, judging by the situation in the village head's house, there is food in the kitchen pot, and Kuai Manic's remains were left uncollected after his death. This shows that trouble struck the village head's household right away, which contradicts Zhuang Seventh's account."

She finished speaking and asked the other three:

"Are there any other living souls left in the village?"

Hearing this, Wu, Fan, and Zhang all shook their heads:

"Not a single living soul, nor did we see any corpses. A portion of the households had dead livestock, but other than that, this is like an abandoned, desolate ghost town devoid of human habitation."

"They might have gone to Kuailiang Village."

At this thought, Zhao Fusheng placed the skull in her arms onto a chair: "Let's go. We're heading to the river, and we'll go take a look at Kuailiang Village too."

She took the lead and walked out. The others exchanged glances, then filed out behind her.

"My lord, do you have any certainty regarding this ghost case?"

Fan Wujiu asked, steeling himself.

"We haven't even figured out the ghost's killing rule yet, what certainty is there to speak of?"

Zhao Fusheng shook her head, her words making the others tremble with apprehension:

"If we haven't figured out the killing rule and rashly head to Kuailiang Village—"

"Everything requires taking risks." Zhao Fusheng said:

"The malevolent spirit currently experiencing recurrence is suspected to be Fourth-Maiden Zhuang. Kuailiang Village is where the incident originated. According to the clues in Zhuang Seventh's words, everyone marked by the malevolent spirit will head to Kuailiang Village. If we keep hiding and refuse to go, we will never figure out the ghost's rules."

And the disaster of the ghost was spreading rapidly. "If we don't curb it, since this place is not very far from Wan'an County, it's highly likely to spread swiftly to the county town."

By then, Zhao Fusheng might be able to escape Wan'an County, but she cast her gaze at the rest of them:

"What about you lot, whose names are bound in the Soul Registry? What will you do?"

There was no escaping this; one could only face it head-on.

The group fell silent for a long while before all nodding in unison.

"My lord is right." Wu Shaochun voiced.

The moment Zhang Chuanshi thought of how he was restricted within Wan'an County and unable to leave, he drooped like an eggplant beaten by frost. Crestfallen for a long while, he suddenly blurted out: "Since it's related to Fourth-Maiden Zhuang, why don't we go check Zhuang Seventh's uncle's house first?"

For some reason, the mere thought of going to Kuailiang Village filled him with fear and resistance.

"That won't do any good." Zhao Fusheng replied:

"Although Fourth-Maiden Zhuang was the daughter of Zhuang Seventh's uncle, she had been married out for many years, and her presence in terms of daily life has long since vanished here. She died in Kuailiang Village; that is where her malevolent spirit recurred."

Gou Fourth bit his lower lip and asked:

"My lord, will Fourth Elder Sister really become that terrifying after death?"

"Do not use human thinking to fathom a malevolent spirit!" Zhao Fusheng's expression turned stern:

"No matter how pitiful she was in life, once dead she loses human emotions and memories, retaining only the instinctive behavior of killing."

After a malevolent spirit recurs, its act of killing is not for the sake of revenge, nor will its resentment dissipate upon the death of its enemies; it will only drag more innocents into the fold.

"Zhuangjia Village and Kuailiang Village exerted influences on her during her lifetime, and certain obsessions right before her death might form the rules by which she kills after death. These details must be investigated by questioning living people."

Since Zhuangjia Village had already become an empty village without a single living soul, remaining here to examine the past was meaningless.

From Zhuang Seventh's words, it was evident that Zhuang Seventh's uncle and aunt did not care about this fourth-born daughter. Any traces she left in her maiden home before marriage were probably wiped clean the moment she was married off.

Zhao Fusheng stated:

"Right now, I can only hope there are still living souls in Kuailiang Village; otherwise, things will truly become tricky."

Having concluded their discussion, the group immediately left the village head's house.

According to Zhuang Seventh's account, upon leaving the village, there would be a small path leading straight to that branch of the Shangjia River stained yellow by silt and sand, and by the river, a boat would arrive at dawn and dusk to ferry people across to the opposite bank.

The group bypassed the weed-choked fields and returned to the main road, walking down the dirt path. After traveling for about half a quarter of an hour, they indeed spotted a narrow trail artificially carved out and hidden amidst dense thickets.

"My lord, right there."

Wu Shaochun pointed.

Sure enough, the company beheld the flight of steps leading down along the slope.