"Listen to me, little girl. Come with me."
Uncle Lee gripped my hand even tighter, trying to drag me down the mountain. Some of the living dead nearby gathered around, pushing my back with outstretched hands, all trying to force me down.
I was about to resist, but after a moment's thought, I gave up. Uncle Lee was lying. What he said about betraying the Henderson Family was mixed with lies.
After we returned to the village, Uncle Li let go of my hand.
"Little girl, are you hungry? If you are, I'll take you to get something good to eat. Someone caught fresh fish."
I gritted my teeth and shook my head. The villagers’ attitudes softened a bit, and several came over to show concern. I could only smile and say:
"Thank you for your concern, but I’m not hungry. I’d like to take a walk by the sea."
Saying that, I left the living dead behind, but I noticed they seemed to be watching me. I ran straight to the seaside, glanced back at the village, and saw it bustling again.
He’s definitely lying. Does he really think I’m a three-year-old? That kind of lie might fool Ethan Zhang, but no one else would believe it!
I giggled, but the moment I mentioned Ethan Zhang, I stared blankly out at the sea.
"Qingyuan, if it were you, what would you do? You’d probably sympathize with their plight, believe them, and try to help them solve their problems."
I smiled and looked up. The moon above my head was huge—especially huge tonight.
There were too many suspicious points in what Uncle Li said. Corpses, no matter how you transport them, will always give off a stench. Especially in such war-torn times, if you got searched, it would be a huge problem. That’s why bodies are hard to carry. The best method would be to cut out the treasure map tattooed on the Yin-Choujian family’s bodies, making it easier to preserve or even have someone redraw it. So they’re lying.
And curses—if there are only words without curse power, they absolutely won’t work. I’ve seen plenty of people who got into trouble playing spirit-summoning games. Some suffered mild curses. Those Ouija boards and water spirits—most ghosts have curse power.
Usually, these ghosts inject curse power into a person’s body, then remotely control them with words. The curse power inside starts to ferment—sometimes it slowly drains their yang energy to feed the ghost, or it kills them outright so the ghost can devour their soul.
Most ghosts with curse power do this because they’re naturally weak and like to hide. Any slightly aggressive spell can kill them, so they rely on spirit-summoning games to siphon off people’s yang energy or use curse power to steal their lifespan and convert it into their own yin life.
It always comes down to this: both curse power and spoken command are essential for a curse to work. Once a curse is implanted, breaking it is extremely difficult. Only those skilled in the occult can do it. I once heard my dad say that the more powerful people in the occult world usually use one method: transferring the curse. It’s the safest way, but those without enough power can’t pull it off.
The simplest method is like what the people from the Maoshan Sect do. I’ve seen Mao Xiaoyu do it before: make a straw doll, then mix the cursed person’s birth date, hair, nails, some blood, and flesh into it. Inject curse power into the doll, then use talismans to fully transfer the curse. At the peak of yang energy, burn the doll. That breaks the link between curse power and the ghost’s command, severing the curse’s influence on the person.
Because curse power erupts when a person is weakest, it can make the cursed seriously ill or even kill them. Using the cursed person’s blood, hair, nails, and flesh to make a substitute is very weak, which curse power loves. With talismans and spells to guide it, the curse power will transfer.
I heard some of this from my dad, but mostly from Miles Mao and Dalton Fang. The Buddhist sect has its own way of dispelling curses, and I’ve heard of other sects’ methods too.
Because I understand exactly how curses are formed, I’m certain Uncle Li and the others are lying. They aren’t cursed at all; something else is behind it.
I once wondered if it was the power of Blood Fiend, but I remember Zhang Qingyuan clearly telling me what Blood Fiend power does—pure destruction. If you’re harmed by it, your strength is completely ruined, leaving you crippled. I also learned this from Lan Yin’s memories in the world of the living.
And a ghost like Yin-Choujian would never use such methods to torment these people. He’s a Ghost Lord—if he really did that, he wouldn’t be the Yin-Choujian I know, always disdainful, dealing with everything with a smile and indifference.
If Yin-Choujian truly hated them, he would’ve killed them as soon as he gained power, not wandered this island. They have no means to resist ghosts.
I decided to keep waiting by the sea. Yin-Choujian’s words echoed in my mind about twelve hours ago, and now it’s almost been twelve hours.
According to when I entered here, it should be noon soon—the time when yang energy is strongest. I decided to keep waiting.
I checked my phone. Sure enough, it was 11:53 AM—seven minutes to noon. I waited patiently. Ever since I did what I did by the pool, the living dead in the village started watching me. I could feel their eyes on my back like needles. I smiled coldly.
"Liars don’t deserve sympathy."
I’ve always hated liars, ever since I was little. That’s why I hate ghosts—they’re always lying. I’ve been tricked many times, and almost got into serious trouble for believing them. Luckily, I had Vivian Wei and my friends from the Ghost Burial Squad.
Thinking of this, I smiled. I really wanted to see those friends again—it’s been so many years. If what my parents and the Immortality Society said is true, that they’d return them unharmed, then maybe they’re back already. Maybe they’ve heard about Ethan Zhang’s death.
"It’s not that you can’t trust a ghost, but only if you have the ability to subdue it."
A saying Hugh Thompson often told me popped into my head.
My view of ghosts had changed, maybe thanks to Zhang Qingyuan. He had a bunch of ghost friends, especially among the Ghost Lords. Of the seven Ghost Lords, the one I liked most was Shen Yanjun. He’s extremely upright—I knew it the first time I met him. I told Zhang Qingyuan the same thing. When Shen Yanjun came to save us, I felt it—there are truly upright ghosts, and it was like seeing light in the darkness.
I decided to prepare a bit. If I really had to fight these living dead, I’d be outnumbered and exhausted. I took out some paper and started cutting.
"You really are clever, Rachel Lan."
Yin-Choujian’s voice echoed in my mind. I stared wide-eyed—right at noon.
"Damn you, Yin-Choujian! Why didn’t you warn me I’d die? Why is it always like this? Qingyuan must’ve been spun around by you too."
Yin-Choujian’s voice suddenly vanished, as if he’d gone silent. After a while, it returned to my mind.
"Listen carefully. Find my corpse. As you guessed, the skeleton you fought wasn’t my body—it was a fake, made by extracting your yang fire and using special methods. You can think of it as a substitute I made from you. How did it feel to fight yourself, Rachel Lan?"
I pouted, glaring angrily at the distant sea.
"Can’t you be a little more honest? Yin-Choujian, your personality really isn’t very likable."
"My personality is none of your concern, Rachel Lan. Listen carefully—I don’t know why things turned out like this here. I only came to get my body back. As for the reason, you’ll have to figure that out yourself. Oh, and if you get too hungry, just eat yourself!"
I blinked.
"You people from the Yellow Springs can heal even if you’re injured. Why not cut off a piece of your own flesh to eat? In a day, the wound will be good as new. How could you not think of something so simple..."
I swallowed and raised a hand.
"John Chou, if you were in front of me, I’d definitely punch you. Only a sinister guy like you could come up with that—eat myself? Don’t be ridiculous."
My stomach growled. I swallowed again.
"Aren’t you tempted to try? Human flesh is delicious."
I stared wide-eyed and shot to my feet, furious. Yin-Choujian’s wicked laughter echoed in my mind.
"I’d rather starve to death than cut off my own flesh to eat, you bastard, John Chou!"
After that, Yin-Choujian didn’t respond. I gnashed my teeth in anger, but there was nothing I could do. Honestly, even if I wanted to beat him up, I couldn’t. My dad said Yin-Choujian has probably fully recovered, and you can feel his power just from his presence. The Blood Fiend Ghost Lord has returned.
"Hmph, even if I have to eat grass and tree bark, I’ll survive. Just you wait, Yin-Choujian!"