Once Rachel Lan finally calmed down, I held her hand and sat on the edge of the bed.
"That guy is so hateful. When I was little, he forced me to study in all sorts of ways. Even when he left, he never explained anything to me."
"I'm sorry, I..."
"Ethan, you don't need to apologize. He's not someone who dies so easily. For more than ten years, he's always been like this. I need to wash him up. Ethan, you're tired, go get some rest."
I shook my head, and then Rachel Lan went to fetch a basin. Old Moe had been lying here for so long, his body still reeked. Luckily, Wayne Harris was taking care of him.
After a while, Rachel Lan brought a few towels and a small basin. I hurried to take off Old Moe's shirt, and just then, I saw several large black characters written on his body.
My daughter and son-in-law, even if I pass out for a while, you must not wash my body, or I'll be truly doomed.
Suddenly, I gave an awkward laugh and shot Old Moe a resentful look.
"Ethan, don't mind him. My dad just loves to joke around."
With that, Rachel Lan quickly closed up Old Moe's clothes, and then we left the room.
When I returned to my room, it was already past nine. I was getting ready to sleep; tomorrow morning, we had to visit the Ghost Burial Squad. As soon as I walked in, I noticed an invitation on the table. I picked it up—a red card with gold trim, the paper was quite nice.
The date was November 11th. I was invited to attend the Feast of Ten Thousand Ghosts, hosted by Redmane. The location was the Shuanglong Grand Hotel, a three-star hotel and one of the best in town.
Though puzzled, I smiled and decided to go. There was still a week to prepare.
Lying on the bed, I took out the Blood Jade from my chest and was surprised to find the crack had vanished. I blinked, staring at the red Blood Jade, feeling strange, rubbing it with my fingers over and over.
This Blood Jade used to feel smooth and gentle in my hand, but now it was hot, like I was wearing a hot water bottle on my chest.
A cold chuckle escaped me. I sat up straight, staring at the Blood Jade; the heat was definitely coming from it.
"What exactly are you? Was it you who saved us that day?"
But the Blood Jade didn’t respond.
"Go to sleep, kid, do you know what time it is?" Suddenly, the Blood Jade spoke in a raspy, duck-like voice.
I asked several more times, but the Blood Jade didn’t answer again. I lay back down, and the heat in my chest faded away.
I fell asleep in no time.
Thunder rumbled in the sky, deafening booms echoing. I looked up as heavy rain poured down. I started running and saw a ruined temple ahead. Surprised, I realized I was dreaming.
But the air was thick with the smell of blood. A bolt of lightning flashed, and I suddenly saw someone inside the ruined temple. Blood was streaming across the floor.
It was Ironmask, slumped on the ground, staring at me.
"Heh, you're late, Ethan Zhang. There's almost nothing left."
The smell of blood grew even stronger around me, but I saw no bodies. Ironmask looked cheerful, humming a tune. I walked over, puzzled. He was humming a song by Easton Grant, my favorite singer.
"Nice, isn't it, Ethan Zhang? Heh."
"Where exactly are you being held?"
Ironmask ignored me and kept humming.
"You wretched beast, looking for death."
A voice came from outside the ruined temple. I turned to look—a monk with a string of prayer beads around his neck, his face thick with flesh, glaring at me.
"Master, what is..."
"He can't see you, Ethan Zhang," Ironmask said quickly, then stood up.
"I'm full now, don't really want to eat anymore. So, monk, do you want to be eaten by me too?"
Ironmask stood up. Suddenly, the monk at the door rushed in, crouched down, and moved his hands in opposite circles, forming a Buddhist gesture and chanting under his breath.
Instantly, the monk's whole body glowed, and a large Buddhist character appeared above Ironmask's head.
With a crack, Ironmask twisted his arm until it popped.
"Watch closely, Ethan Zhang. Heh, I just hope you get to see this."
With a roar, I heard a wild beast's cry. Suddenly, a sinister aura poured out of Ironmask, condensing into a black tiger that leapt through the golden light, straight at the monk.
The monk shouted, raising both hands high, his prayer beads sliding through his fingers. With a boom, the black tiger vanished into thin air just as it reached him.
Ironmask lunged forward, hands outstretched, roaring. His hand erupted with sinister energy, forming a tiger's head that snapped at the monk.
Just then, golden light flared beneath Ironmask's feet. Strings of Sanskrit rose from the ground with a crackling sound, and Ironmask cried out.
The golden light from the ground trapped Ironmask in place, leaving him unable to move, only able to scream in pain.
"Wretched beast, today is the day you die."
The monk spoke, pressing his palms together.
"Who dies isn’t certain yet, ha!" Ironmask laughed madly. In the golden light, I glimpsed a streak of black.
Ironmask screamed in agony. Suddenly, I saw the space around us twist, black dust drifting in the air. The monk slowly opened his mouth.
In that instant, I sensed something strange—the monk's movements grew sluggish, while Ironmask bent forward, black energy gathering at his head. There was a creaking sound, like tiles being laid on a roof, as the dark aura layered over him.
Ironmask's back was covered in sinister energy, forming a creature with a pointed head and a long, thick tail. With a thunderous crash, Ironmask shot toward the monk like an arrow released from a bow.
The monk moved painfully slowly, trying to escape. With a hiss, blood sprayed everywhere—a gaping hole opened in the monk's chest.
My eyes widened as the blood that splattered seemed to move in slow motion, falling so slowly I could see every detail with my naked eye.
Black mist, like ink, swirled around the temple, visible everywhere. The monk made no sound at all.
In an instant, Ironmask stood up, the sinister energy fading from his body. The black mist drifted away. A bolt of lightning flashed, and I realized that the dust, rubble, and wood chips knocked loose by the fight were all suspended in midair.
It seemed I was trapped in a space where time had slowed. Driven by instinct, I took several steps, everything feeling normal, with no reaction at all.
Then, as the black smoke cleared, the blood and debris that had been hanging in the air suddenly returned to normal speed and fell to the ground.
"Let's go, Ethan Zhang."
Ironmask grabbed my hand and hurried me out. In the pouring rain, the ruined temple collapsed, and Ironmask laughed wildly.
"None of you will catch me, not a chance. I'm full, strong, and won't be caught. Heh, Ethan Zhang, Ethan Zhang, I'm glad to see you."
"What exactly is this?"
I stared at Ironmask in astonishment. For just a moment in the ruined temple, it felt as if time had stopped.
Ironmask laughed wildly in the rain, walking into the ruins of the collapsed temple. With a wet smack, I clapped my hand over my mouth, nearly retching from the wave of nausea.
"Eat up. There are still two eyeballs, not dirty yet—eat them, Ethan Zhang, eat and you'll have strength."
I shook my head firmly.
"What are you even doing?"
I shouted angrily. Ironmask stared blankly at me, the two eyeballs in his hand dropping to the ground.
With a wail, Ironmask burst into tears, deeply saddened.
"Ethan Zhang won't eat. He won't eat. Ethan Zhang won't eat..."
I crouched beside Ironmask, placing a hand on his shoulder. Looking at the dead monk in the ruins, I sighed.
"Stop doing things like this. You escaped, didn't you? Don't kill anyone else."
Suddenly, I gripped Ironmask's helmet with both hands.
Those eyes, clear as a child's, gazed at me.
"Can you promise me? Don't kill anyone anymore. You can come find me—I'll figure something out. Can you do that?"
Ironmask chuckled and nodded.
"I'll listen to you, Ethan Zhang. I'll listen to you, heh..."
I jolted awake from the dream. The sky outside was still gloomy, but it was already past eight. Thinking back on the dream, it felt so real. The sinister energy Ironmask used in the dream truly slowed down time.
There was a knock at the door. I hurried to answer it.
"Ethan, what's wrong? You're drenched in sweat. Come down for breakfast."
I smiled and shook my head.
After breakfast, Rachel Lan and I drove the Ghost Burial Squad’s van from outside the apartment building toward their headquarters.
"Miss Lan, I promise to take responsibility for your father’s situation. I’ll figure out a way to rescue him from the dream."
Rachel Lan smiled, not seeming too pessimistic about Old Moe's predicament.
"It’s not just you—it’s us, Ethan. We’ll figure it out together."
I quickly smiled and nodded.
The van sped down the road, and I realized Stone Jian probably called me to the Ghost Burial Squad for more than just the Immortality Society’s business.