Chapter Twenty-One: Containing the Crisis

Chapter Twenty-One

Fan Bisi and the others could not discern anything with their naked eyes, but Zhao Fusheng felt the change acutely. Her body rapidly lost its warmth, her flowing blood gradually congealed, transforming into a vessel suitable for a vengeful ghost. Coldness seeped through her entire being, her once rapid heartbeat began to slow, her eyes clouded with a pall of death, and her expression grew chillingly numb, as if all vitality had left her in an instant.

In her sight, a faint, almost imperceptible black mist enveloped everything, smothering the colors of the world. The newly awakened vengeful spirit radiated intense malice, staring at her from behind the corpse shroud with a sinister gaze, brimming with aggression.

An inexplicable force controlled her body. The hand she extended toward the corpse was deathly pale, devoid of any trace of blood, the blue veins bulging against her thin, white skin like those of a dead person. This was a hand empowered by the vengeful ghost, now possessed of immense strength.

Beneath her palm, the corpse that had been twitching was instantly subdued by the power of the malevolent spirit, stripped of its 'life.' At the very moment their forces collided, Zhao Fusheng’s mother’s body ceased its bouncing and fell with a dull thud onto the door planks, becoming an unmoving corpse once more.

Immediately, the malice emanating from Zhao Fusheng’s mother vanished completely. Yet in its place came a strange, rattling noise from the other side of the door planks, as if someone was scratching them with their fingernails—a sound both bizarre and spine-chilling.

Though vengeful ghosts do not perceive their victims as humans do, the Fan brothers, drawing on their experience with the Demon Suppression Bureau, knew that the worst mistake when dealing with such spirits was to panic and lose control. The moment Zhao Fusheng’s father’s corpse began to 'awaken,' the brothers retreated in terror, crouching in a corner. The other pallbearers, experienced themselves, silently followed suit.

In the dim light, Zhao Fusheng’s face was ghostly pale, her expression cold and grim. After neutralizing her mother’s revived corpse, a violent urge surged within her, an impulse to destroy—the urge to annihilate the corpse before her. Her eyes reddened with blood, hostility rising unchecked in her heart.

She took several deep breaths, forcibly suppressing the rampaging impulse, then turned and strode toward where her father’s corpse lay. This time, she did not restrain herself. Her hands seized the corpse’s twitching ankles.

A weak resistance came from the ankles, but under her strength, it was swiftly overcome. Gripping both feet, she yanked with brutal force:

"Rise!"

The uncanny adhesion between the corpse and the door plank was torn apart, and the stiff body was lifted with ease, like a dead fish pulled by its tail. The corpse bounced high, then crashed heavily back onto the door plank with a dull thud.

Upon landing, the previously rigid corpse became limp.

Within her mind’s sea, the Divine List issued a prompt: You have successfully suppressed two vengeful ghosts on the verge of revival, preventing a disaster and saving lives within the Demon Suppression Bureau. Merit +1. You are affected by the vengeful spirits; 1 merit consumed to purify the lingering resentment.

The prompt faded, and Zhao Fusheng was overwhelmed by a surge of unwillingness and venomous hatred as the vengeful spirits struggled to control her body, unwilling to retreat into shadow. Yet, under the cleansing power of merit, their control failed; resentful, the vengeful ghosts crawled down from her shoulders and withdrew into the darkness.

With the spirits subdued, reason gradually regained dominance over the violent, impulsive sensations within her. Her heart began to beat again—rapidly, urgently. Her congealed blood resumed its flow, her numb, icy back regained feeling, warmth returned to her body, and sharp pains stabbed at her joints.

The feeling of imminent death was gone. Goosebumps rose on her wrist, her hair stood on end.

Having finally wrested back control of her body, Zhao Fusheng gasped for breath. She flexed her still-stiff wrist, but felt no relief at her temporary escape.

The Divine List had already warned her: she had harnessed the power of the vengeful spirits to suppress their revival, and lost a third of her vitality in the process.

The two vengeful ghosts were only temporarily suppressed; her recovery was merely the result of merit dispelling their influence. The lost vitality would not return. Unless she could completely rid herself of the vengeful ghosts, death remained inevitable.

At this realization, her expression grew grim. She rotated her aching neck and met the frightened gaze of the Fan brothers.

The two looked at her as if they had seen a demon. Zhao Fusheng’s mood soured.

"Aren’t you going to put the corpses in the coffins?"

"Just now..." Fan Bisi swallowed, attempting to speak, but Zhao Fusheng impatiently cut him off:

"The trouble is only temporarily resolved. If you don’t bury these corpses quickly, the vengeful ghosts could revive at any moment."

She had paid a heavy price just to neutralize this threat; any further delay might prove disastrous. If the vengeful ghosts lost control, everyone could die.

Her face was pale, her tone no longer calm.

Zhao Fusheng frowned.

Though merit had wiped away the negative emotions brought by the vengeful spirits, she was still affected—her temper had become irritable and vexed.

She drew a deep breath, feeling her heart beating strongly within her chest. She rubbed her fingers, now regaining their color, but worry lingered.

The influence of vengeful ghosts was profound, and the cost of using their power was too steep for her to bear.

Her only option now was to swiftly complete the Demon Suppression Bureau’s exorcism mission, accumulate merit, activate the Divine List, and banish the evil spirits—her sole path to survival.

Thinking of this, Zhao Fusheng unconsciously touched her waist.

There, she carried a dossier about the Liu family ancestral hall from forty years ago, likely connected to the current mission in Beggar’s Alley.

She needed to venture deep into the ghost domain and earn merit.

According to the rules for using vengeful spirits, she still had one chance left...

Zhao Fusheng pressed her lips tightly, her gaze cold and resolute.

She stepped aside, signaling the pallbearers to move quickly.

Within this brief moment, the two vengeful spirits poised to revive within the Demon Suppression Bureau had been subdued, and a disaster averted. The nascent ghost domain began to dissipate, the gloom scattered, and light returned to the courtyard and government halls.

The pallbearers, frightened out of their wits, emerged from hiding, relieved to have escaped death.

The chilling sense of dread had vanished; they came forward anxiously, tentatively touching the corpses.

The two bodies had lost their eerie stiffness and coldness.

This time, as they moved the corpses, nothing strange occurred. Working together, they lifted the bodies and placed them in their coffins without incident.

In the hall of the government office, only three empty door planks remained. Aside from the central plank where Zhao Fusheng had lain, the planks on either side bore two bizarre marks, remnants of the vengeful spirits’ near revival.

Waxen corpse oil outlined two human-shaped imprints, their centers stained by dark red blood.

Because Zhao Fusheng had forcibly separated corpse from plank using the power of the vengeful spirits, the remaining corpse oil and blood, half-dried, were pulled into fine, dense spikes.

This gave the imprinted figures a vivid, three-dimensional appearance.

Perhaps it was the near revival of the corpses, but the two shadowy imprints seemed increasingly sinister, the bloodstains radiating an ominous, eerie malice.