《Chronicles of Folkloric Oddities (Literal: Archival Records of Folk Mysteries)》 Chapter 1: The Desolate Village Dusk spilled like overturned ink, creeping along the mountain ridges toward Huangjue Village. As Feng stepped into the village under the last sliver of daylight, the sour tang of decaying leaves thickened into an invisible wall. He pushed aside a hanging locust branch, its faded paper coins rustling¡ªeach coin bore a crudely cut "‡Ö" character at its center, edges speckled with mold. His hiking boot crunched over bluestone slabs. Something brittle shattered beneath his sole. Feng crouched, brushing aside half-rotted leaves to reveal a desiccated cicada wedged in a crevice. Its wings shimmered with an uncanny blue-gold hue. When he prodded the carcass with his trekking pole, a clump of moldy glutinous rice spilled from its abdomen. Feng¡¯s fingers hovered three inches above the insect. Years ago, in a Guizhou cave expedition, a guide had pointed at golden beetles in rock fissures: "Raw rice in the mouth stops corpse transformation; insect carcasses stuffed with cooked rice in coffin seams are tolls for underworld officials¡ªbut these bugs must feast on corpse oil first." "Funeral Cicada." He snapped a close-up with his phone. The flash illuminated the path¡¯s end¡ªthe Zhang ancestral hall warped into jagged silhouettes by twilight, its upturned eaves crowned by a crow clutching a frayed red cord in its beak. The air grew heavier near the hall. Feng halted three meters from the entrance, zooming his camera on the doorframe: Faded spring couplets retained half a phrase¡ª"fated union forged at dawn"¡ªwhile torn remnants exposed wood grain resembling claw marks. A yellow talisman curled at the edges, its vermillion incantations faded to dried-blood brown. "Not a Ming-Qing era charm." He pulled out a well-worn field guide. The digital scan froze, forcing him to consult the physical copy. "Command structure resembles Chenzhou talismans from western Hunan, but the ''sha'' character has an extra stroke..." Shutter clicks startled the eaves¡¯ crow. A half-woven love knot, threads stained crimson, fluttered to his feet. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. At the west wall, Feng¡¯s pole sank into loose soil. Brushing aside weeds, he found stones stacked in patterned layers, moss etching concentric rings. "Someone regularly scaled this wall at least two decades ago." Removing his tactical glove, he traced cracks caked with dried mud¡ªthen jerked back as icy numbness shot through his fingers, like touching freezer-burned meat. Over the wall, paper coins on the locust tree snapped in unison. As Feng¡¯s back touched the inner wall, a shadow lunged from leaf piles. He swung his pole but struck only falling joss paper¡ªyellow funeral sheets meticulously edged with lace-like cuts. The backyard lay in deeper ruin. A derelict well pierced through weeds, its mossy rim scarred by chaotic footprints. Feng aimed his flashlight. As the beam swept the shaft, clumps of moss peeled away, exposing layered scratches¡ªancient ones blackened by oxidation, fresh ones gleaming in raw bluestone. His pole scraped the well¡¯s edge, dislodging crimson crystals. It reminded him of Guangxi¡¯s abandoned "blood brine pools," where women executed in pig cages left salt crusts rusted iron-red. The light wavered. Fabric rustled from the well¡¯s depths. A scarlet cloth undulated in black water. Feng zoomed his lens. Ripples distorted the screen¡¯s crimson blur. "The Zhangs¡¯ spirit marriage..." He pulled up county records. The cursor hovered on a 1918 entry: "7th patriarch Zhang Qizong wed spirit bride Lin, interred together on the back hill." A scanned wedding certificate showed ink blots obscuring the bride¡¯s birth chart. Mucus oozed from the well¡¯s moss. Feng stepped back, his heel hitting a rotten wooden box with a copper key. As he bent closer, locust branches trembled windlessly. Paper coins shredded, their "‡Ö" characters dissolving into a storm of fragments raining into the abyss. Chapter 2: Wells Shadow
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Chapter 3: The Cursed Mirror Morning mist clung to the ancestral compound as Feng returned. The temporal paradox in his photo gallery gnawed at him¡ªthe scarlet cloth''s pixel structure clearly originated from CMOS sensors, impossible for 1918. Kneeling by the well, he adjusted camera settings. The viewfinder flickered with a woman''s half-face. A shutter snap ruptured the silence. The preview showed only blurred images, except the well''s reflection: locust branches laden with paper coins, contradicting reality''s barren limbs. Feng mounted the camera in burst mode and rushed to last night''s shack. The chest''s incense ash remained disturbed. With a respirator secured, he brushed away residue, revealing an oilskin-wrapped diary. Pages crumbled like fish scales. Using a portable humidifier, he unfolded the first leaf. "March 27, Xuantong 2nd Year (1910). Elders decreed Qizong''s posthumous marriage. The Lin girl''s pure yin birth chart destined her for our lineage..." The meticulous calligraphy turned frenzied: "Well''s weeping intensifies at night, unquelled by sacrifices. Qizong suspects his spirit bride, orders iron talismans to seal..." Feng''s finger froze on an ink blot. UV light revealed hidden text: "Lin was not dead, but live-buried." The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Camera bursts echoed outside. He sprinted to the well. The burst sequence mutated: Frame 1 showed normal stones; Frame 5 bore claw marks; Frame 7 revealed a pallid hand gripping the rim. The shutter''s triple-beat became a death knell. Feng yanked the battery. His flashlight beam caught seven bloody handprints materializing on the east wall¡ªthe seventh''s emerging palm lines cracked the plaster. Annals of Folk Mysteries trembled in his pack. Pages fluttered to blank leaves bleeding ink. Vertical Republican-era text materialized: "To suppress a spirit bride, drive peach wood stakes three ke (45 minutes) before live burial''s last breath. Mistiming breeds lethal sha." A desiccated peach leaf fell out, its veins mirroring the bloody prints. Chains clanked in the well. Feng stored the diary in a moisture-proof bag. Sunlight revealed new patterns in the mirror''s vines¡ªfaint strokes forming "ÁÖ" (Lin). As he positioned silicone pads, blood fogged his respirator lens. Warm blood dripped from the mirror''s edge, snaking across bricks. Following the trail upward, he found a rotting hemp noose¡ªidentical to archival execution records. The flashlight died. Silk rustled in darkness. The mirror burned through its bag. Feng cracked a glow stick¡ªgreen light revealed his reflection: a spectral bride in chiffon wedding garb, the "Zhang Qizong" corpse coin pinned in her hair. Corpse oil oozed from the coin''s hole. At the rooster''s crow, Feng crashed through the gate with his evidence. The mirror seared his chest, its patterns branding his skin. Behind him, black mist coiled from the well as blood prints eroded in dawn light. His phone shrieked an alert. All anomalous photos self-deleted, except one blurred reflection¡ªthe submerged bride smiling, a platinum diamond ring glinting on her fourth finger. Chapter 4: Bronze Curse (Word count: 1,187) Feng crouched before the locust tree''s root pit, tactical gloves slick with fetid mud. Copper coins extracted from the well cat''s eye sockets glowed cyan under UV light. "Wrong alloy ratio for Guangxu Tongbao." He scraped patina into test tubes. "Excessive zinc¡ªpost-1914 mint formula." His phone displayed metallurgical data graphs matching the results. Microscopic examination revealed "Zhang Qizong" engravings composed of nested sigils¡ªexactly the missing text from Annals of Folk Mysteries. Feng''s waterproof notebook captured the patterns until his pen autonomously sketched an inverted Bagua. Stones clattered in the well. Feng dipped well water to draw sigils on ritual paper. Vermillion permeated fibers with sizzling sounds. Precise sextant alignment was crucial: Tian Shu position buried with Guangxu coins to channel sha, Yao Guang position anchoring with broken characters¡ªinstalling a pacemaker for earth veins. If the Annals were accurate, geomagnetic deflection would exceed 12¡ã¡ªphysical manifestation of the live-buried soul''s struggle. He buried the coin chain in Jiugang formation. The final coin pinned a "ÆÆ" (break) character drawn with well water and vermillion. As coins submerged, drones detected geomagnetic anomalies¡ª15¡ã deflection within 10-meter radius, fulfilling the Annals prophecy: "Sha-devouring array activated, earth veins rerouted." Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Next morning, excavator claws pierced the well as Feng analyzed water with a gas chromatograph. The screen flashed lethal hydrogen sulfide levels¡ª23¡Á threshold. "Halt!" His flare stick waved. Diesel engines died as metal scrapes echoed below. Foreman Chen peered in¡ªhis safety rope suddenly yanked taut. Feng secured Chen''s belt with climbing ropes. Five workers strained futilely. When Feng inverted the mirror over the well, frost coated its surface. The rope snapped, leaving bloody nail fragments. "Use the basket." He mounted a GoPro on the mechanical arm. "I need real-time footage at 10-meter depth." The monitor showed claw marks intensifying downward. As the bucket touched silt, the camera shook. Murky water revealed a blood-seeping "‡Ö" on wedding fabric. "Retrieve it!" Feng barked into the radio. Winches groaned. Workers recoiled as the bucket surfaced¡ªa corroded cage held bones matching "Lin''s well death" in records. The skeleton clutched Feng''s coin chain. Coins had turned blood-brown. Under sunlight, microscopic sigils writhed like iron filings toward the bones. Feng bagged the remains under bone-chilling cold. Lab tests confirmed late-Qing female remains with pelvic fractures¡ªconsistent with live burial struggles per Annals: "Foreign lineage suppression requires living souls." Three days later, Feng watched workers inter silk-wrapped bones on a sunlit slope. Drone thermals showed the grave 2.3¡ãC warmer¡ªmatching Annals "yang tomb suppression" criteria. "The Zhangs'' ritual was fraud." He reviewed reconstructed sigils. "Spirit marriages nourished yin veins with victims'' resentment." His phone buzzed¡ªworkers reported a stone tunnel at 3-meter depth, three men missing. As the coffin was sealed, the mirror burned. Feng glimpsed a fading chiffon-clad figure¡ªher coin chain dissolving into smoke. The photo gallery auto-purged paranormal images, leaving only a crew photo. A blurred figure wore Lao Chen''s vintage Shanghai Watch¡ªgone with the foreman. Locust tree''s paper coins crumbled to dust. Chapter 5: The Stone Passage (Word count: 1,203) Feng stood before the cracked well rim, his phone''s flashlight piercing the stone fissures. Three hours prior, the drill bit had jammed here¡ªhollow echoes reverberated beneath, resembling relentless fingernails scraping metal. Tapping the stone with a geological hammer, his sonar detector revealed a sealed chamber approximately thirty square meters below. "Everyone retreat to the village entrance." He tossed his vape into the gas detector; the screen flashed excessive methane warnings. "If I don''t emerge in two hours..." He hesitated. "...pour concrete to seal the well." The workers scattered like startled birds. When the last engine rumble faded, Feng retrieved a hydraulic breaker from his gear case. With muffled booms, bluestone slabs fractured, unleashing a putrid wind laced with paper ash. His respirator filter yellowed instantly. Thermal imaging showed the entrance eleven degrees Celsius colder than the outside. The passage sloped downward, stone steps coated with gelatinous residue. As Feng''s boot touched the first step, the Annals of Folk Mysteries in his tactical belt convulsed violently. Pages flipped under the cold blue glow of a chem light, bleeding fresh ink: "Seven oath-takers at the Hour of Hai during the Wuxu Year."(9 PM, 1898¡ªSeven Oath-takers) His phone vibrated abruptly. "Professor Feng?" The caller ID showed Professor Zhou from the provincial archaeology institute. "That private exploration team you inquired about¡ªtheir leader Lao Wu claims introduction through your university senior..." Feng''s attention fixed on the glossy substance coating the steps¡ªa polish formed by countless reptilian traversals. Accessing his alumni group chat, he found a yellowed photo: A young man in Ray-Ban sunglasses fiddling with a compass, his wristwatch engraved with archaic seal script reading "Wu." The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. Lao Wu arrived faster than anticipated. "This job''s mine." The man leaping from the pickup''s rear seat crushed his cigarette underfoot, Ray-Bans replaced by gold-rimmed glasses, though the vintage watch remained. "But terms are clear¡ªseventy-thirty split on underground artifacts." Feng''s gaze swept over the man''s bulging backpack. The shape beneath the tarp unmistakably outlined a Luoyang shovel. Their leather jackets bore traces of tomb-blue clay, sleeves revealing glints of tomb-raiding talisman chains. At midnight, six headlamps pierced the passage darkness. Lao Wu''s henchman took point, the screech of entrenching tools against stone startling bat swarms. Feng noted the creatures'' abnormality¡ªeach bat''s right wing bore a twisted "ÕÅ" brand, as if seared by red-hot iron. Amid flapping wings, Feng''s UV flashlight scanned the cavern ceiling¡ªa branding iron wedged in crevices, its incised ''Zhang'' character perfectly matching the bats'' scars. This recalled county records: "During the 1909 drought, the Zhang clan branded sacrificial livestock with their crest, binding all through blood contracts." "Halt!" Lao Wu suddenly crouched, caressing the wall. Under intense light, bluestone veins pulsed crimson. He splashed murky liquid¡ªhigh-proof liquor mixed with bone powder¡ªigniting eerie green flames upon contact. The conflagration revealed the wall''s true face: Bloody handprints climbed from floor to ceiling, each palm crease embedded with microscopic sigils. Feng''s camera shutter clicked through Lao Wu''s profanity: "Goddamn corpse-stacking curse! Only seven generations'' handprints can..." The ground collapsed. Feng grabbed fissures mid-plummet, Lao Wu''s screams echoing above. As dust settled, headlamps illuminated nine bronze chains suspending a sarcophagus carved with human faces. The partially opened lid exposed layered corpses¡ªthe uppermost wearing "Huangjue Village Construction Crew" uniforms. A missing worker''s walkie-talkie crackled before emitting an inhuman screech: "The auspicious hour... has come..." The stone coffin burst open. Chapter 6: The True Face of the Shadow Temple (Word count: 1,317) As the sarcophagus burst open, Lao Wu yanked out an oilskin-wrapped tome. Pages fluttered in the foul wind, landing on a blood-drawn "Truth-Revealing Sigil." He smeared blood on the illustration¡ªthe sigil detached, burning azure in midair. "Eyes shut!" Lao Wu''s shout trembled. Feng glimpsed reality before the glare¡ªno chains nor coffin. They stood in a Qing-style shadow temple''s courtyard. Nine pillars encircled a faceless deity, carved with "ÎìÐçÄ꺥ʱÉúÕß¼À" (Sacrifice those born 1898, 9-11 PM). Construction crew IDs littered the ground, plastic gnawed by teeth. Annals of Folk Mysteries flipped open autonomously, showing vascular text: ''1898 Hunan corpse riot had identical patterns¡ªseven related corpses'' palm prints activated the kin-fed sha array.'' "Corpse-stacking curse with mirage formation¡ªZhang''s masterpiece." Lao Wu kicked a skull, his light revealing modern corpses at the pedestal. The top corpse clutched a yellow talisman. Feng extracted it with tweezers. UV light revealed hidden blueprints¡ªthe Zhang ancestral compound with a crimson X. Lao Wu sneered: "The old bastard gave us sachets with these, called them protective..." If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. The tome levitated before the deity, pages settling on "Deity Feeding Chapter." The faceless idol illustration bled text: ¡¸Sacrifice seven kin, steal a century''s lifespan¡¹. Feng''s camera erupted in burst mode. Preview showed a hidden canal behind the deity¡ªwater cloudy with adipocere. His boot crushed a brick near the canal, exposing a moldy ledger titled "Zhang Sacrificial Records, 1900." Entries chilled the blood: 1900: Sacrificed firstborn son, gained silver vein 1945: Sacrificed eldest grandson''s wife Wang, avoided war 2018: Sacrificed... Vermillion annotations read: Shadow temple requires 1898-born sacrifices, others feed the well. The final line was bloodstained. Lao Wu sprayed developer, revealing a family portrait¡ªelderly village chief with seven blurred youths. The temple quaked. The deity''s neck cracked, spewing maggot-filled mucus. Feng grabbed the ledger but found exits sealed. A henchman produced grenades¡ª"Methane!" Feng warned. The fallen tome revealed temple blueprints. Feng traced the diagram¡ªhis finger found rat-claw indents in the deity''s left ear. "Bestial blood!" Lao Wu roared. "Defile..." Infant wails erupted upon blood contact. A henchman vomited bronze fragments. Feng bagged one etched with "é×" (ritual vessel). The deity''s face morphed¡ªamalgamating their features, mouth stretching ear-to-ear: "The hour..." Lao Wu''s Luoyang shovel shattered the knee. Cracks spiderwebbed the idol, oozing yellow pus. Feng''s phone buzzed¡ªa blurry photo: Republic-era basement shelves filled with "Zhang"-marked bronzeware. Something rat-tailed lurked in shadows. Chapter 7: The Obsidian Coffin (Word count: 1,428)
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Chapter 8: Paper Puppet Life-Theft (Word count: 1,572) The coffin exploded. Feng grabbed the Annals¡ªno seven corpses, just a mold-furred cadaver. Its claw jammed the coffin seam, fungal tendrils consuming the wood. Feng retreated over scattered rice, spotting bronze glint in the idol''s base¡ªa key engraved "ÎìÐ纥ʱ" (Wu-Xu-Hai period). "Lao Wu! Under the idol!" His shout echoed. Tactical light revealed the key lodged in the deity''s navel, blade smeared with yellow grease. As Erzhu reached, the mold corpse convulsed. Black mist formed an inverted Bagua overhead. Feng''s camera flashed¡ªthe "Kan" position aligned with Erzhu''s brow. "Don''t touch it!" The Annals flipped to page 127: "Sha requires counterfeit lives..." Lao Wu collapsed, veins pulsating¡ªpatterns mirroring the key''s engravings. Feng''s temple throbbed. He threw grave soil¡ªparticles forming broken birth characters. Sacrificial rules, live-burial records, key orientation¡ªpieces snapped together. "It''s not matching births!" Feng''s nails drew blood. "The key alters contactees'' fate!" Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. UV light exposed sigils under Lao Wu''s veins¡ª"Grafting Sigil" from Annals page 79. "Erzhu! Hair!" Feng kicked the advancing corpse, producing a straw effigy. "Wh-where from?" "Roots!" As Erzhu screamed, Feng wrapped follicle-rich hair around the effigy. Grave soil and Lao Wu''s blood painted an inverted Bagua. Seven flashes branded "¸ý×ÓÄêîʱ" (1900, 5-7 AM) on its back. The Bagua froze. Feng slapped the effigy onto the idol¡ªthe key ejected. The mold corpse shrieked, tendrils retreating. "Now!" Feng''s pick hooked the key toward Lao Wu. "Eye socket!" Lao Wu caught it mid-roll, stabbing the idol''s right eye. Creaking fissures oozed black fluid¡ªsolidifying into a shriveled child''s face. "Wu-Xu-Hai..." It grinned toothlessly. "Need seven..." Feng realized the ledger''s blank¡ªthe Zhangs never found the seventh sacrifice, using the key to forge victims! The coffin detonated. Mold tendrils lunged¡ªcorpse missing three left fingers. Annals page 79''s bloodstained illustration surfaced: "Severed fingers feed sha, evading heaven''s wrath" "Erzhu! Prybar!" Lao Wu''s scream cracked. The corpse avoided a fan-shaped zone. Feng dodged, snapping the idol''s eye socket. Inscriptions read: "Mirror reverses souls." He recalled the buried bronze mirror. "Lao Wu! Right eye!" Feng threw his amulet. Too late¡ªmold claws pierced Erzhu''s chest. Blood mist coated the idol as it cackled in an elder''s voice: "Seventh!" The Annals flipped to its end¡ªa family photo emerged. The patriarch''s wrist bore the bronze key. Chapter 9: Bloody Escape (Word count: 1,689)
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. Chapter 10: Reverse-Step Garment Burning (Word count: 1,752) Lao Wu''s body temperature plummeted. Feng dragged him under the locust tree, flashlight clamped between teeth, flipping through Mountain Burial Relic Codex from Lao Wu''s jacket. Mold-swollen pages clung together¡ªonly page 103 was legible: An inverted corpse bound with red threads, captioned "Harness sha to breach barriers, bridge yin-yang." Icy breath grazed Feng''s neck. The headless bride raised her rotting hand. Moonlight through finger bones cast key-shaped shadows. "You can''t take..." A raspy voice hissed. UV light revealed no shadow beneath the corpse, its wrist bearing faded red cords¡ªFeng''s own burial knot. "Debt settled!" Feng threw grave soil. Particles formed a Big Dipper pattern on the well rim. Annals flipped to page 72: "Phantom Manifestation¡ªonly lingering souls chase relics." Feng focused on the bride''s chest cavity. Preview showed half a coin lodged where her heart should be¡ªhis buried Guangxu series. Chills crawled his spine¡ªshe was the true anchor, fused with the estate''s energy through his coins! Lao Wu convulsed, coughing black blood. Feng hoisted him toward mountain paths, but bamboo groves led back to the locust tree¡ªthird loop completed. Stolen novel; please report. "Twin sha lockdown..." Feng tasted iron. Mold webs glistened under moonlight. The blasted east wall stood intact, Erzhu''s spray marks preserved. Annals thumped open at page 121. Vermillion characters "Äæ²½·ÙÒÂ" (Reverse-Step Garment Burning) bled crimson. "Forgive me!" Feng ripped Lao Wu''s jacket into strips. Lighter flames licked corpse oil-soaked fabric, smoke coiling into Ô© (injustice). First backward step crushed the Big Dipper''s pivot point. The bride shrieked. Second step shattered Xun position, fire ribbons whirling. Bagua projections emerged as mold tendrils neared Feng''s spine. Third step pulverized a tombstone at Kun position¡ª"ÁÖ" (Lin) fragments mirroring the bronze mirror''s patterns. Fourth step warped reality beyond the compound, locust rings reversing. Fifth step ruptured Kan position. Feng''s wound split¡ªblood forming "é×" (ritual vessel). Sixth step pierced Li position¡ªsatellite alarms merged with ghostly wails. Seventh step spiraled through Dui, embers scorching sleeves. Eighth step crushed Gen position. Moon shadows rotated with his moves. Final stomp at Qian position dropped ashes onto the Codex''s inverted corpse. "Break!" The shockwave dissolved the estate. Feng staggered onto a dirt road. His phone vibrated¡ª23 missed calls. Lao Wu groaned. The shotgun remained holstered. Dawn sirens wailed. Feng glanced back¡ªthe bride raised three decomposed fingers under locust shade. The shutter captured rat-tailed shadows. Chapter 11: Sealed Anchors (Word count: 1,842) ER doors swished open. Feng leaned against antiseptic-scented tiles. Lao Wu''s shotgun hid in his trunk, barrel slick with mold residue. When nursesµÚÈý´Î demanded payment, drizzle blurred the windows. "Folkloric survey accident." Feng slid cultural bureau papers forward, bandages oozing yellow. "Landslide buried heritage structures. Colleague critically injured." The cop eyed his gunpowder-burned collarbone: "This isn''t rock..." "Luoyang shovel rebound." Feng exposed lightning-wood burns. "Methane explosion. Full report forthcoming." Dawn pierced rain. Feng stood beyond police tape. Excavators loomed over the ancestral hall, cabs plastered with vermillion charms¡ªwarding journalists, not spirits. "Door groove!" Feng grabbed an officer. As cranes lifted the threshold, a key-shaped cavity emerged. His phone flashed bronze key photos: "Crucial relic..." "Experts will handle it." The cop blocked him. Tremors shook earth¡ªgatehouse collapsed, revealing a bronze altar. Its trigrams matched the Codex''s inverted corpse. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Cultural bureau arrived swiftly. Feng chewed ration bars on the slope. Binoculars caught a gray shadow¡ªold man in Mao suit surveying the altar. His rodent-headed bone ring glinted. "That''s no bureaucrat." Feng''s spy cam whirred. When police cleared the site, he "tied shoelaces"¡ªslipping hand-drawn talismans into altar cracks. The ground rumbled as sigils connected. "Evacuate!" Safety officers waved flags. Feng ducked under tarps¡ªaltar bells resembled ritual objects. Fingers grazed cold bronze... "Halt!" Two armed police (PAP = People''s Armed Police) officers approached. After rigorous ID checks: "Obstruct again, criminal detention." Lao Wu''s room reeked of incense. Mountain Burial Relic Codex lay open, holding yellowed diary pages: Dec 7, 1993 Third Uncle said Lord Grey Eighth grants lifespan for artifacts. We found bronze vessel in Mangshan Wei Tomb, interior carved with names. Night watchman Ma went mad, hugging it screaming "Ten more years..." Windowpanes rattled. Feng saw a hunchback vanishing downstairs¡ªrat tail tattoo on nape. Lao Wu''s monitor beeped erratically. Night rain returned. On the roof, Feng opened Annals¡ªpage 177''s tear held bronze shards. UV light revealed microscript: Mountain-Calming Zun is Life-Debt Cauldron Lord Grey Eighth judges life-death contracts To break pact... His phone buzzed. Anonymous message: "Karmic debt unbroken. Proxy cycle continues." End of Huangjue Chronicles Chapter 12: Nuo Mask Outbreak (Word count: 2,015) Monitor glow hollowed Feng''s eye sockets. At 3 AM, a crimson-titled video autoplayed: In desolate hills, a Zhong Kui Nuo mask-clad man knelt before a grave, fingers clawing soil. The camera zoomed¡ªblack mucus seeped from the mask''s lining, dripping off his chin. "Seventh case." Feng paused, UV light revealing brown spots on the mask''s "ÖÜ" (Zhou) character. Annals flipped open¡ªa Qing-era courtesan plucked zither, ink tears staining her cheeks. Marginalia specified: Zhou Nuo masks use locust wood soaked in corpse oil; Zhang bronze mirrors smelt yin essence. Both trap souls¡ªyang wood''s flexibility vs yin metal''s sharpness. Feng canceled assignments, booking flights to the coordinates. On the plane, tweezers held charred opera fabric¡ªanonymous "souvenir." Golden threads suddenly formed "º¥" (Hai) as flight attendants passed. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Luotou Village decayed beyond expectation. Wild mugwort split stone paths; faded door gods peeled from gates. The innkeeper''s nails held vermillion dust. "West wing reserved," she paused. "Avoid north after dark." Sunset drowned in mass graves as Feng''s boots crushed leaves. A moss-eaten "ÖÜ" stele leaked mercury-black sludge. Mountain winds carried opera fragments: "...fifth watch...ghost gates..." UV light revealed fluorescent humus¡ªfungal spore evidence. Half-buried opera silk twitched in evidence bag, bleeding characters: "º¥Ê±ÍÌÍÁ£¬ÌæÉíÈëÃæ" (Swallow earth at Hai hour, substitute enters mask). 9:48 PM. The inn bed creaked. Villagers burned robes in threshing yard¡ªgreen flames licking embroidered pythons, ash forming faces. Feng collected windowsill dust¡ªNuo man''s residue. Dawn brought an insulated box to county post. Grave soil and ash en route to labs, labeled "folk specimens." Feng''s left arm itched¡ªblack sludge worming under skin. Breakfast stall radio warned: "Luotou suspected mushroom poisoning..." Feng''s chopsticks hovered over fermented tofu. The cook''s apron bore identical vermillion dust, steamers dangling faded red cords. Chapter 13: Death Mask Pursuit (Word count: 2,187) The lab fax machine screeched through midnight. Feng clutched the report with bandaged left hand¡ªUV light revealing "No DNA match for corpse oil." Thunder cracked as raindrops formed Nuo mask patterns on window grilles. A text blinked: "East of Graves." Flashlight wavered on mountain paths. Feng''s boots crushed leaves, sweet rot mingling with decay. Past three lightning-struck trees, he found the kneeling figure¡ªWhite Wuchang Nuo mask''s tongue drooping to chest, fingers grave-digging like worship. "Ashes to..." Feng''s coin ritual halted. The mask rotated 180¡ã. Moonlight exposed maggots swarming eyeholes. The man crawled backward, spine arched like centipede. Feng''s talisman-lined jacket rustled. Tar-like ooze from mask cracks birthed black hands clawing his ankles. Blade sliced palm¡ªblood splattered Annals'' cover, pages fluttering to "Yin Performer Chapter." "Possessed corpse, dispersed spirit." Feng kicked grave stones, shattering the mask''s "ÖÜ" (Zhou). The man screeched in female tones¡ªfungal mist coalescing into opera ghost. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. Feng pinned the man, nails digging mask edges. Corpse oil soaked fingers as left arm''s black veins squirmed. The revealed face froze him¡ªbloodshot eyes, mercury-laced grave dirt between teeth. "Forgive me!" Bloodied hand smeared mask forehead. Moonlit chant: "Yin souls pass, yang blood severs!" The specter wailed into nothingness. The man collapsed, rasping: "Zhou Xiaofeng... bones under stage... mirror..." His collar revealed Zhou clan sigil in vermillion. Downpour intensified. Feng dragged him to clinic. The doctor recoiled¡ªtree-root veins crawling the neck, half-digested centipede clinging lips. "Clear out!" Feng ripped open medkit. Fungal threads erupted from nostrils. The flatline screamed death. Torchlights approached. Villagers cursed: "Outsider summoned mountain plague!" Feng crashed through windows into vegetable plots, left arm needling pain. White hyphae sprouted from sleeves. The last bus driver raised barrier at his bloody arm. ER nurses frowned at "fungal infection?" Feng bolted mid-bandage¡ªconvenience store mirrors reflected Judge Nuo mask making throat-slitting gestures. Motel shower spewed black-red water. Fungal stench matched grave soil. Annals sprawled open¡ªblank pages bleeding opera notation. Chapter 14: Final Act of the Cursed Opera The stench of the wet market¡ªblood, fish scales, and wilted greens¡ªclashed with funeral incense wafting from a mourning shop. Feng¡¯s backpack bulged with dissonant relics: frozen black dog blood crystallizing in plastic bottles, a pig¡¯s heart oozing crimson through shrink wrap, and a cheap peachwood sword whose tassel glittered with paper ingot dust. "Yin soil corrodes meridians. Only yang blood can purge the sha." Feng curled in the motel bathtub, Annals of Folk Mysteries splayed on anti-slip mats. His UV flashlight swept over his left arm¡ªgray veins now crawled to his shoulder blade, subcutaneous fungal threads writhing like spiderwebs under the violet glow. He bit open the dog blood vial. The freezer-chilled liquid reeked of iron and rot as it splashed his arm. Fungal tendrils hissed like screeching infants. Seven yellow talismans, soaked in vermillion ink, adhered to his acupoints per ancient diagrams. Mugwort smoke coiled from smoldering herbs as Feng held them to his elbow. In the haze, Zhou Xiaofeng¡¯s spectral fragment materialized¡ªa woman in opera robes stuffing grave soil into a Nuo mask¡¯s lining. When the pig¡¯s heart touched the sigil on his palm, his left arm spasmed violently, clawing at his own throat. "Wrong¡­all wrong¡ª" Feng kicked the tub over, retching black sludge. The bathroom mirror reflected a bruise shaped like the character º¥ (Hai) pulsing on his neck. The talismans had only seared his skin; the yin contamination had seeped into his bones. Nightmares came like blood-soaked film reels. Feng stood center-stage in his dream, Zhou Xiaofeng¡¯s Nuo mask dripping corpse oil from the rafters. Boneless fingers gripped his left shoulder: "The replacements are ready¡­your grand finale¡­" He watched his own petrified arm pack grave soil into the mask¡¯s hollow. As embroidered opera sleeves coiled around his neck, his vision flipped upside-down. Flaking vermillion paint on a nearby pillar revealed carved words: "BREAK SHA HERE." He awoke at 3:07 AM, sheets drenched in cold sweat. His right hand probed his left arm¡ªthe flesh felt like rotted timber. Outside, the moon drowned in ink-black clouds, yet the rhythmic boom¡­boom¡­boom of opera drums pulsed through the darkness, each strike syncing with the skipped beats of his heart. The peachwood sword lifted the motel curtain. In the distance, grave mounds glowed with corpse-light. Feng stuffed the pig¡¯s heart with vermillion talismans, slathered his atrophied arm in dog blood, and followed the drumbeats back to the mountains. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. The drums led him down a narrow path to a crumbling opera stage. Rotting pillars groaned in the night wind. Seven Nuo masks hung from the beams like hanged ghosts. As Feng stepped onto the sagging planks, the White Wuchang mask lunged¡ªits lolling tongue a pale eel. He hurled the pig¡¯s heart. The mask latched onto the bloody offering¡ªand his sword pierced the ÖÜ (Zhou) character etched on its forehead. Black ichor sprayed the Annals¡¯ cover. Pages flipped madly as Feng dumped the remaining dog blood onto the beams. Fungal threads recoiled with sizzling screams. When Zhou Xiaofeng¡¯s specter emerged from the central mask, he snapped the peachwood sword and hurled it at the pillar from his dream¡ªthe shengmen exit. The blade struck the crack. Every mask exploded simultaneously, Zhou¡¯s phantom chest mirroring the fracture. A subterranean crunch shook the earth as coffins ruptured below. Her wail merged with the storm¡¯s roar. Feng collapsed in the corner, watching fungal threads retreat from his withered arm¡ªa charred sigil scar branding his palm. At dawn, the Annals flipped to its final page. Bloodstains sketched a new chapter: "Sha-Borrowing Mirror Technique," its diagram depicting a left-arm cripple. Feng ripped off his bandages with a bitter laugh. Outside, a hearse wailed as three white-shrouded bodies were loaded. The CT scanner roared like thunder. Feng stared at dendritic patterns¡ªash-gray roots twisting around his ulna. The rheumatologist adjusted his glasses, baffled: "Normal bone density¡­these markings resemble¡­carvings?" Three days later, Feng returned to Luotou Village. At the third doorstep, an old woman dropped her clay bowl. Millet congee splattered into a Nuo mask shape on stone slabs. A baby wailed inside. "Sinful business¡­" The tailor across the street pointed his pipe westward. "Granny Zhou¡¯s guarded the clan shrine forty years. Ask her." Under the locust tree, the ninety-year-old woman stroked faded puppets: "Warlords came for¡¶Mulian Rescues Mother¡·. The troupe needed a ¡®soul-guide¡¯¡­Xiaofeng had her face painted with charcoal, locked in a makeup box three nights." Her milky eyes glinted. "That box became our coffin. Seven of us carried it up the graves." She produced an 1891 edition of Nuo Opera Origins, its margins noting: "Zhou Troupe Oath: Never cross the Yangtze. Never touch cinnabar." Feng¡¯s boot scuffed the charred stage ruins. A flash of lacquer revealed hollow beams¡ªhalf a charred finger bone tangled with bronze bells. The Zhong Kui mask lay askew in broken mirrors, its ÖÜ (Zhou) character scorched. UV light showed corpse oil inside, now hardened into amber. When touched, it whispered fragments of Zhong Kui Marries His Sister. In an internet caf¨¦¡¯s blue glow, Feng scrolled trending news: #DeliveryNightmare. A video showed takeout riders kneeling before unfinished buildings, burning spirit money. Their helmet visors reflected nameless graves. GPS trails snaked into the Annals¡¯ page 77 Soul-Guiding Sigil. End of Soil-Eating Masks Chapter 15: Midnight Sigil Shadows
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Chapter 16: Broken Chains, Shattered Illusions
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Chapter 17: Prelude to Taihang
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Chapter 18: Bone Chants in the Labyrinth As Old Zhou vanished into the crevice, Feng¡¯s mycelium-scarred left arm convulsed violently. He slapped half a bone-suppression talisman onto his forehead¡ªthe ash searing his eyeballs confirmed reality. His gas mask filter oozed a nauseating blend of incense and rot. ¡°Uncle Zhou, which slope holds the POW bones?¡± Feng pressed his trekking pole against a phalanx embedded in stone. Old Zhou froze, his canteen clattering against his belt. ¡°Washed away by landslides years ago,¡± he rasped, Adam¡¯s apple bobbing. ¡°Just¡­experimental materials from old facilities.¡± Feng¡¯s UV light swept Old Zhou¡¯s neck. The half-coin scar glowed corpse-blue. ¡°Unique talisman,¡± Feng feigned casualness. ¡°Mind if I study the pattern?¡± Old Zhou erupted in coughs, bone fragments speckling his phlegm. His navy work shirt bulged along the spine like vertebrae pushing through flesh. At Eagle¡¯s Beak Rock, the mountain winds died abruptly. Feng¡¯s boot kicked something warm¡ªOld Zhou¡¯s canteen, still body-warm. Ten meters ahead, the ¡°Old Zhou¡± imitation turned, its face melting like candle wax to reveal a flesh-draped skull. ¡°Gak-gak-gak¡­¡± The impostor¡¯s throat bones scraped out Japanese sutras. Bone-dust-infused mucus seeped from the cliffs. Feng retreated, hurling talismans that ignited into green flames, illuminating squirming bone fragments¡ªknuckles, toes, ribs assembling into seven headless skeletons. ¡°ÐçʱÈý¿Ì (7:48 PM)¡ªyang wanes, yin thrives.¡± Feng glanced at the dying sun and splashed black dog blood across the rocks. The crimson liquid sketched a lopsided Taiji symbol. Bone shards hitting the bloodline erupted in acrid smoke. He hastily drew emergency sigils inside his mask with vermillion, dampening the chants by 30%. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Annals of Folk Mysteries flipped to the ¡°Japanese Occult Arrays¡± section. The yellowed illustration of a bone woman rising from a swastika pile merged with reality¡ªa skeletal schoolgirl in Showa-era uniform emerged from the crevice. Rotting flesh clung to her frame, a rusted dagger lodged in her right eye socket, a twitching heart cradled in her left palm. Seven copper nails studded her jawbone, their ¡°Showa 17¡± inscriptions forming the Plough-Swallowing Soul Array¡ªa modified Japanese version. To break it, both the Celestial Pivot (left eye) and Celestial Spinner (right ear) nails must be shattered. ¡°Kaere¡­ (Go back¡­)¡± Her jawbone clacked, sutras materializing as soundwaves. Black blood seeped from Feng¡¯s ears as his mycelium arm swelled instinctively. He lunged with a peachwood sword toward her right ear¡¯s nail. Metal screeched against bone as the blade struck. The sword snapped. Feng collapsed with a rib-cracking crunch, shoving a talisman into her left eye socket. Green flames cracked the surrounding bone. The heart in her palm exploded, corrosive fluid etching characters into stone. Retreating, each step branded charred footprints into the cliff. The mountain groaned¡ªno natural cavern echoed like this. Feng slumped in the fading Taiji diagram. Two talismans remained. Black dog blood steamed into acrid mist. Chains rattled deeper in the cave as something multi-limbed scaled the walls in sync with the bone woman¡¯s chants. The hungry ghost¡¯s skull emerged first¡ªa canine cranium tripled in size, copper bell dangling from its jaw by sinews, eye sockets writhing with centipedes. Behind it, the bone woman¡¯s heart reconstituted from putrid blood, her uniform stitching itself like living tissue. Feng groped for the urn. His scarred arm burned¡ªZhou Xiaofeng¡¯s remnant consciousness trembled within the mask. The hungry ghost¡¯s bell froze mid-swing. Coughing blood, Feng smeared a blood sigil on the broken sword. As the sun vanished, Ghost-Weeping Cliff echoed with eight-decade-old screams. Chapter 19: Forbidden Arts Shatter the Sha
This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Chapter 20: Shattering Arrays, Burning Mountains
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. Chapter 21: Embers and Threads
Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Chapter 22: Grey Currents Rising In Municipal Hospital No.3¡¯s orthopedics wing, Feng¡¯s X-ray glowed on the lightbox¡ªmycelium webbing through his arm bones like spider silk. ¡°Requires bone scraping surgery,¡± the young doctor tapped deformed protrusions. Feng rolled down his sleeve. The mycelium-scarred arm writhed, sending the doctor sprawling in his chair. The aging herbalist¡¯s clinic hid deep in an herb market, copper cauldrons simmering unidentifiable pastes. Eighty-year-old Dr. Chen painted a yin-yang fish on rice paper after taking Feng¡¯s pulse: ¡°Your yang leaks worse than a sieve.¡± His vermillion brush scrawled a Yang Restoration Powder recipe: Deer antler velvet: 15g Calcined dragon bone with sulfur: 25g Lightning-struck wood ash: 10g Take with rice wine. From the cabinet¡¯s depths emerged a porcelain vial: ¡°Add this¡ªone spoon weekly.¡± Feng shook golden powder inside. On the Kunming-bound flight, Feng rephotographed the Grey Sect contract. At maximum zoom, a partial fingerprint emerged¡ªmatching Lao Wu¡¯s hospital diary smudge. As flight attendants cleared his coffee, cumulonimbus clouds outside flickered with Lord Grey¡¯s silhouette. City Central Hospital reeked of antiseptic and incense. Nurses checked logs: ¡°Wu Jianjun? Pulled his IV last Wednesday. Cameras caught only shadows.¡± The bedside bore claw marks piercing wood grain. When Feng¡¯s scarred arm neared them, Annals flipped to ¡°Rat Bride¡± chapter¡ªLao Wu¡¯s silhouette materialized, kneeling before an altar in bronze chains. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Midnight found Feng spreading century-old ritual paper in his rented room. Black dog blood mixed with Yang Restoration dregs formed new sigil ink. Enhanced bone-suppression talismans now bore interlocked yin-yang fish¡ªeffective against animal spirits. On the seventh talisman, his mycelium arm spasmed, adding a rat-skull sigil. At Qingyang Temple¡¯s millennia-old ginkgo tree, Feng offered Nuo mask fragments at the altar. The Taoist master swept them with a horsetail whisk: ¡°Too much sha¡ªsuppress under True Warrior statue for 49 days.¡± His gift: Five Emperors coins strung with gray rat whiskers. ¡°Qing Dynasty relics,¡± he flicked a Kangxi Tongbao, ¡°survived seven death disasters¡ªcracks mark proxy lifes spent.¡± The coins¡¯ red thread, soaked in vermillion-realgar wine, followed Annals¡¯ ¡°Yang Shackles Yin¡± principles: Century-circulated coins carry mortal essence. Linked by yang elements, they heat when yin forces approach. A trending forum post autoplayed at 3 AM: ¡°Sow Moon Worship.¡± The video showed a 250kg Yorkshire sow standing upright, front hooves pressed in prayer. Ultrasound flashes revealed fetal skulls¡ªrodent-jawed with bulging foreheads. Screenshotting this, Annals displayed a bronze vessel photo marked ¡°Grey Sect Conveyance.¡± Turbulence rocked the plane as Feng dozed. The Five Emperors coins burned his wrist. In dreams, he stood onstage before spectral spectators¡ªthe bone woman, hungry ghost, Lao Wu. Lord Grey¡¯s shadow oozed from the curtains, rat claws clutching yellowed tickets: ¡°Next act¡ªyour proxy turn.¡± End of Taihang Bone Temple Chapter 23: Thunder Sword Emerges
The plane shuddered through storm clouds as Feng jolted awake. The Five Emperors coins burned his wrist like branding irons. Lord Grey¡¯s dream-whisper¡ª¡°Next act¡ªyour proxy turn¡±¡ªstill buzzed in his skull. He doused the coins with water¡ªdroplets freezing instantly on contact. A flight attendant¡¯s trolley reflected light across the window. Feng froze¡ªthe glass showed a rat-masked shadow miming throat-slitting. Turning, all passengers behind slept soundly. Three hours later, Feng stood in Fengze County¡¯s open-air market. Rotting vegetables and incense ash choked the air. At a ¡°Century-Old Materials¡± stall, his fingers traced a dust-coated peachwood sword. Lightning-like grooves scored the blade, remnants of vermillion clinging to carved characters: ¡°Heavenly Marshal Subdues Demons.¡± Sunlight revealed golden flecks in the thunder patterns¡ªAnnals noted lightning-struck peachwood naturally formed anti-evil circuits, like wooden Tesla coils targeting the supernatural. ¡°These thunder marks spread clockwise,¡± Feng tilted the blade. ¡°True lightning-struck wood radiates counterclockwise.¡± The vendor¡¯s toothpick paused. ¡°Connoisseur, eh? Salvaged from Zhou Troupe¡¯s fire ruins. Heard of them?¡± A hairline fracture ran along the hilt¡ªthis blade would shatter after few uses. ¡°Light?¡± Feng lit a cigarette off the vendor¡¯s kerosene lamp, flicking ash onto the sword. Ash ignited emerald phosphorescence upon touching thunder patterns. At a budget motel at dusk, Feng submerged the sword in black dog blood. Bubbles frothed from the hilt crack. Annals lay open on mold-stained walls, his red-inked addendum: ¡°Heavenly Marshal seals require lightning ash to rupture beast-form evils.¡± Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. His seven bone-suppression talismans now glowed eerily cyan. The cave¡¯s bone mountain flashed in memory. Annals flipped autonomously to ¡°Sigils: Final Chapter.¡± Gold powder splashed across ritual paper. Replicating each sigil meticulously, Feng added ¡°Yin Breaker¡± in each corner. 3 AM. Scrolling ¡°Sow Moon Worship¡± comments, Feng found a three-year-old link¡ª¡°Night-Weeping Cattle¡± incident where vets extracted a tray of fingernails from a cow¡¯s stomach. A user pleaded about his son¡¯s illness¡ªFeng traced the IP to the sow¡¯s owner. Video backgrounds pinned the location. Next morning, Feng knocked on the farmhouse. Hog stench billowed as the white-knuckled farmer gripped a shovel: ¡°Epidemic Control Bureau?¡± ¡°Folk Medicine Association. Researching hereditary anomalies.¡± Feng flashed forged credentials. ¡°Your son¡¯s case may qualify for free treatment.¡± The boy in his mother¡¯s arms convulsed, veins bulging like earthworms under pallid skin. Feng lifted the child¡¯s collar¡ªa crimson birthmark squirmed beneath. Annals flipped to ¡°Beast-Human Hybrid¡± illustrations¡ªhuman-faced fetuses in livestock, umbilical cords strangling breeders. ¡°Saliva sample needed.¡± Feng swabbed the boy¡¯s mouth, scraping neck flakes onto a Yin Breaker talisman. Annals¡¯ entry warned: ¡°Fragment souls into livestock wombs, reconstitute as pseudo-spirits. Monthly moonlit feedings drain yang until birth, when true souls become livestock.¡± The Five Emperors coins vibrated. Locked in the bathroom, Feng cast flakes onto the talisman. Green flames revealed matching umbilical-imprinted birthmarks between sow fetus and boy. ¡°Blood transfusions are decoys.¡± Feng eyed the ash-formed array. ¡°True sacrifice is soul shards¡­ breeding lifespan batteries.¡± A sow¡¯s scream erupted outside. Feng burst out to find the farmer hacking at pigpen bars¡ªthirty black rats with copper-ringed claws devoured the sow¡¯s belly. The peachwood sword crackled with lightning. Feng scorched the earth: ¡°Back!¡± The first leaping rat exploded into smoke. The farmer froze¡ªFrom the gaping split in the sow''s belly, a human hand densely matted with black fur thrust outward. Chapter 24: Human-Beast Covenants
Stolen story; please report. Chapter 25: Mirror Array Shatters Evil The bronze vessel in the dim chamber gleamed with corpse-wax luster. The gray-robed elder collapsed before the altar, black blood spattering its ¡°ÎìÐçÄ꺥ʱÉú¼À¡± (Sacrifice Those Born 1898, 9-11 PM) inscription. Vessels in the corner resonated violently¡ªthe leftmost one shattered, its fragments dragged into floor cracks by frenzied rats. ¡°Seven years¡¯ lifespan¡­for scrap metal¡­¡± The elder tore his robe open, chest etched with cracks mirroring Feng¡¯s peachwood sword. Feng tweezed a rodent fang artifact from the well¡¯s edge. The hexagonal tooth bore ¡°Yunnan Troupe Zhou¡± carvings, red clay clinging to its serrations. The sow rolled in its pen, belly scar faint pink. ¡°Document every detail about the gray-robed man.¡± Feng slapped a notebook on the table, eyeing the boy indoors¡ªhis neck smooth, Five Emperors coins clinking in his hands. As the farmer rambled about ¡°hog plague remedies,¡± Feng pasted Yin Breaker talismans on the doorframe: ¡°Remove these if they blacken.¡± Noon reeked of fish guts at the market. Feng selected a chipped vanity mirror, its mercury backing spiderwebbed. ¡°This¡¯ll do.¡± Vermillion inverted Bagua symbols adorned the frame. ¡°Intact mirrors reflect truth¡ªcracks refract ¡®phantom moonlight¡¯¡­¡± This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Annals¡¯ ¡°Cracked Mirrors Reveal Yin¡± chapter stated: ¡°Fractured glass gathers false moonlight, luring pseudo-souls. Beast-Human Hybrids use lunar energy to forge illness into proxy spirits¡ªyet true soul restoration breaks the pact.¡± The farm¡¯s peach stump anchored Feng¡¯s mirror array. Noon light refracted onto the pen, conjuring a hazy aureole. When Feng reclaimed the coins, the boy wailed until three bloodstained coins were buried in the yard. ¡°Activate at ÐçʱÈý¿Ì (7:48 PM).¡± Feng stabbed a fruit knife into northwest talismans. ¡°Pour black blood at green flames.¡± Night fell. The sow circled anxiously under fractured moonlight projecting an infant-sized glow on its back. Green fire erupted from the mirrors. Thirty miles away, the gray-robed elder screamed as bronze vessels exploded. Rats gnawed his ankles. At the farm, the luminous spot began extracting the boy¡¯s spectral form¡ª Moonbeams glued the boy¡¯s soul and swine fetus pseudo-spirit like magnetic poles. Feng gripped the coin strand: ¡°Yin to yin, yang to yang!¡± He slashed through luminous threads. Stardust cascaded into the boy¡¯s crown as smoke coiled into an inverted bowl barrier. Seven silver threads of fractured moonlight stretched taut. Feng¡¯s sword severed them¡ªpseudo-souls fed on lunar tethers. Dawn mist still clung to the air as Feng shouldered his pack. The farmer thrust a wad of crumpled bills toward him, but Feng pushed them back, trading instead for the chipped mirror. "Keep this to ward your home." Its mercury backing veined with bloody luminescence under the morning sun. Crossing Yunnan¡¯s border, Feng rubbed the rodent fang¡¯s carvings. A drunk¡¯s radio blared: ¡°¡­folklorist cracks cross-province fraud¡­¡± He tugged his hat low. Outside, wild rats mass-kowtowed toward distant cliffs. Chapter 26: Hexagrams Point the Way The long-distance bus jolted over potholes, Feng¡¯s elbow slamming the window. The Five Emperors coins dug into his wrist as he gripped the rodent fang artifact in his pocket¡ªits hexagonal edges warming with each bump. Rats kowtowing on cliffs outside suddenly turned in unison, thousands of crimson eyes tracking the taillights. ¡°Lord Grey¡­Underworld¡­¡± Feng wound a hair around a silver needle tip. The phantom hum of bronze vessels echoed in his skull. He tore open a Yin Breaker talisman packet, folding hair and paper into a triangle. A pen pierced three layers, inscribing ¡°¸ý³½ÄêÎì×ÓÔÂÐÁº¥ÈÕ¡± (2000, November 28). By the time the old woman beside him noticed the blood scent, Feng had stowed the bloodstained needle. His bandaged finger oozed dark droplets as forged birth characters carbonized in Annals¡ªa refined version of Huangjue¡¯s fate-altering ritual. ¡°Fengze Station!¡± the driver barked. Feng grabbed his pack, the rodent fang searing his palm. Three fortune-teller stalls later: the first two wielded fake compasses and greedy eyes. At the alley¡¯s end, white smoke rose where Five Emperors coins touched the third stall. A blind man in cyan robes caressed a bronze luopan. Charred rat tails littered the ground; stray cats kept their distance. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it ¡°Fortune or love?¡± The blind man sniffed. ¡°You reek of century-old corpse oil.¡± Feng slapped the forged birth chart on the stall. The luopan needle spun wildly. ¡°¼×ÐçÄê¹ïÓÏÔ±ûÒúÈÕ (1994, September 14)¡ªaltered fate?¡± The man¡¯s sunglasses tilted toward Feng. ¡°Seven years¡¯ lifespan for Taihang¡¯s peace. Was it worth it?¡± The coin strand snapped. Feng caught a falling coin. ¡°Trace this.¡± He tossed the rodent fang onto the stall. The blind man¡¯s veins bulged. The luopan cracked. Removing his glasses revealed hollow sockets: ¡°That beast took my eyes. If you can smash its vessel¡­¡± He froze, ears twitching southeast¡ªthree sparrows kowtowed on power lines. Amid shaking divination sticks and market clamor, Feng drew the ¡°Zehuo Ge¡± hexagram. The blind man¡¯s sleeve slid back, exposing rat-gnawed wrist bones: ¡°No regrets in altered fates¡ªyou¡¯ve been a pawn all along.¡± His cane sketched the hexagram: ¡°Water over Fire, like a boiling pot capped with glass¡ª¡± He tapped luopan fragments. ¡°To break free, strike before the oil spills.¡± ¡°Southwest 200 li¡ªMengla¡¯s Yin-Yang River holds Lord Grey¡¯s vessel in stagnant pools.¡± The blind man packed up. Feng noted the fragmented ¡°Kan¡± position¡ªnormally due north¡ªnow pointing to Yunnan. The rodent fang stood upright on his knee, tip aligned with the crescent moon over Mengla. At sunset, Feng bought two tickets to Mengla. The blind man followed, luopan shards forming a broken ¡°Kan.¡± As the bus started, the fang quivered, pointing moonward. ¡°Lord Grey¡¯s vessel lies in southern rainforests.¡± The blind man¡¯s cane tapped the floor. ¡°But what awaits is¡­¡± He silenced as his glasses reflected claw marks swarming the windows¡ªhundreds of rats oozing fetid mucus. End of Sow Moon Worship Chapter 27: The Phantom Troupe The coach jolted along the mountain pass. Feng''s veins protruded on his clenched hand, the Five Emperors coins pendant nearly cutting into his wrist bone. Metallic screeches rained from the roof ¡ª Lord Grey''s rat swarm was gnawing through the steel plating with diamond-sharp incisors. The blind man suddenly gripped his sword arm: "Three inches southeast!" "My final commission was altering fate for a living-burial opera troupe," the blind man rasped, his hollowed sockets turned toward the writhing shadows beyond the window. "They traded seven years of lifespan for my Reverse Bagua Mirror. Then Lord Grey''s whelps took my eyes as interest." Peachwood sword met glass as lightning scars tore through the storm-darkened sky. A rat the size of a mastiff clinging to the window exploded into cinders, its smoldering carcass tumbling down the cliff. When the blade lodged into a crevice, residual electricity spiderwebbed across the rocks. The rodent tide shrieked retreat into pines. "This won''t survive three strikes." The blind man traced cracks along the retrieved hilt, his rat-tooth talisman glowing crimson. Six-edged fangs hovered midair, pointing southwest: "That troupe''s raising corpses in cursed earth ¡ª your celestial fortune breaks their game." The mountain road coiled like a shedding serpent into mist. Feng''s boots crunched ritual joss papers as the blind man''s bamboo cane tapped faster. When rot wafted from the valley, they saw it ¡ª a stage draped in human-hide drums glistening with adipocere, its lute strings woven from hundreds of greying rat whiskers. "Hexagram Ge mutating into Mingyi. Hardship breeds clarity." The blind man seized Feng''s sleeve, his sunglasses reflecting Taotie motifs on stage pillars. "To crack this death trap, sacrifice something bloodstained." Feng slammed the Five Emperors coins onto the divination plate. As bronze met trigrams, century-old incense qi erupted in vapors. The blind man''s fingers convulsed: "Such karmic weight... Did you save a city god''s temple in past life?" This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. "Ten thousand yang auras imbue these coins ¡ª molten oil to yin filth." Feng watched swirling mists. "Seems we''ve found our key." Midnight winds lifted the stage curtain, revealing puppet chests backstage. Feng buried the lightning-struck wood sword beneath props, coins sealing its fractures. At third watch, stage candles flared spectral green. Lord Grey''s avatar emerged from a ritual wine vessel, skeletal fingers protruding beneath his rodent-fur robe. When the troupe leader struck the human-skin drum, Feng vaulted onto a pillar, his bootheel kicking over candelabras: "Heavenly flames purge evil! Tianpeng subjugates demons!" The peachwood sword hidden in curtains detonated. Lightning remnants fused with ancestral incense erupted from the hilt, coins disintegrating into golden shrapnel. Lord Grey''s rat-tail severed mid-swipe, its stump still crawling with unburned netherworld runes as his form dissolved into sulfurous smoke. "City God Temple... shift-change night..." A mute girl crouching in the corner rasped, rat-tooth punctures oozing on her neck. Feng hesitated, then slung her over his shoulder. Four white-faced martial performers closed in ¡ª their eye sockets housed not pupils, but bronze ritual vessel shards preserved in corpse oil. The blind man''s cane struck stone, blood sigils spreading across flagstones: "Kan transforms to Li!" Feng shredded two Yin Breaker talismans, hurling ashes mixed with stage incense: "Yin winds blind eyes! Yang fire erases forms!" Incense-ash temporarily veils living senses ¡ª the Annals of Folk Mysteries calls this "Ghost-Blinding Countermeasure". As martial performers stumbled blinded, stage beams collapsed. Fleeing with the girl through sulfurous winds, Feng glimpsed the troupe leader tearing the drum''s human hide ¡ª beneath stretched a child''s face. "Paper-Craftsman Chen southward breaks death pacts." The blind man spat blood, cane pointing southwest. "His phantom sedan... cough... fools netherworld guards during shift-change..." The girl whimpered like a wounded cub against Feng''s back. Coin fragments in his pocket seared flesh, burns coalescing into an arrow shape ¡ª aimed at distant city god temple veiled in sacred smoke. Chapter 28: Soulbound Contract The city god temple''s silhouette shimmered on the horizon as Feng ducked into a back-alley guesthouse. The blind man collapsed onto a peeling iron bed, inhaling sharply from a snuff bottle until grayish pallor flushed crimson. The mute girl crouched in the corner, her shadow stretched long in the sunset ¡ª headless. "Half-human, half-ghost." Feng lifted her chin with his peachwood sword. "Leaning spectral." The blind man gripped her wrist, fingernails leaving blue crescents on bloodless skin: "No pulse. No breath." He tore her collar open, revealing three corpse-green bronze nails embedded in her neck. "Sealed orifices anchor her between realms. Remove these, her soul disperses." Midnight found them at a funeral supplies shop. Feng grabbed the last black umbrella on the shelf ¡ª thirteen grave willow ribs bound with burial soil twine. "Fragile in storms..." the portly shopkeeper yawned, cut off as Feng smeared cinnabar mud mixed with incense ash across the canopy. Back at the guesthouse, when the blind man began blood-sigiling the umbrella ribs, the girl convulsed violently. Feng unfurled the umbrella over her crown. Yin energy vortexed beneath the canopy as black smoke streamed from her facial orifices ¡ª a rat-tailed infant spirit clutching bronze vessel shards cackled midair. "Purge!" Feng''s sword pierced the spirit. Gray rodent fur sprouted from his palm, crawling up his forearm like parasitic vines. The girl collapsed, her form translucent enough to see mold stains through her body. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. The blind man croaked a Nuo opera requiem, vibrations shaking dust from window frames. The girl''s eyes rolled white. Charcoal scraped wall plaster: "VESSEL IN SEDAN... LORD GREY''S VAULT..." Bloody claw marks punctuated the message. Paper-Craftsman Chen''s shack stood among tombstones. A hunched old man dripping corpse-oil twine from his fingers looked up: "Phantom sedan requires midnight-cut grave willows with dew." Blackened teeth glinted. "For curtains... three bloody nails from troupe leader." En route, the blind man calculated: "To break death pacts, we need yang essence forged by lightning." "You think thunder-struck wood is some back-alley radish?" Feng thrust his right hand forward, filthy rodent fur quivering like poisoned wheat sprouts. "West mountain. Tonight." At 3 AM, coin fragments seared through fabric. Feng kicked open windows to a downpour. They arrived drenched as lightning struck a withered tree ¡ª within its charred heart lay half a peachwood sword engraved "Heavenly Master Manor, Wu-Yin Year (1998)". "Celestial thunderwood!" The blind man hooked the branch with his cane. As Feng struck the trunk, rodent fur disintegrated into ash, leaving lightning-shaped scars. The girl scrambled forward, carving "10cm" into bark with charcoal. Wood splintered with thunderclap resonance. Feng caught the falling jujube core ¡ª yang lightning essence crystallized within, anathema to rodent sorcery. Carving leftover wood into an Eight Trigrams amulet, the girl''s form solidified upon wearing it, though gray film clouded her eyes. "Enough scraps for three phantom sedans." Paper-Craftsman Chen licked wood shavings, eyeing the drenched group. "Ten percent commission." Rain hammered the guesthouse''s tin roof. Feng toweled the girl''s dripping hair as the blind man traced cracks on the broken sword: "Wu-Yin Year Heavenly Master theft..." The girl pointed southwest. Coin fragments on the table aligned toward the temple eaves'' Chaofeng beast ¡ª its stone eyes embedded with bronze shards. Chapter 29: Midnight Raid The Chaofeng beast on the city god temple''s eaves gleamed coldly in the rain. Feng ran his thumb along the fractured peachwood sword as the blind man slammed a divination plate onto the table: "The troupe leader''s bloody nails will taint the phantom sedan''s essence." "Human puppeteers deserve death like Lord Grey." Feng''s knuckles whitened, lightning scars flickering across his palm. Blood seeped beneath the blind man''s sunglasses: "That mute girl and the troupe leader... share blood ties." Charcoal scraped in the corner. The girl crouched drawing interlocking circles, graphite dust staining her fingers like unresolved grudges. The slaughterhouse reeked of rust at midnight. Feng yanked a cleaver from an icebox, its chipped edge crusted with bone fragments. As dog blood bubbled in a bucket, cinnabar sigils on the black umbrella curled inward, devouring rising malice. "Sufficient ferocity." The blind man tapped the umbrella ribs with his cane. A butcher''s phantom flickered across the canopy. "Send the girl." Rain passed through the mute girl''s translucent body as she stood outside the troupe leader''s compound. The umbrella''s spectral butcher smashed through wooden gates. The troupe leader jolted awake, neck veins writhing like earthworms. Feng crouched by the wall flipping through Annals of Folk Mysteries. Yellowed pages fell open at "Malice-Induced Nightmares." He drew an inverted Bagua in blood: "Amplified slaughterhouse energy makes sleepers believe vengeful spirits hunt them ¡ª shocks three primal souls loose." Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. When the array activated, the troupe leader clawed his arms till fingernails splintered ¡ª three bloodied nails rolled across the threshold as umbrella-born yin mist repelled pursuing martial performers. The girl retrieved them mechanically, only to stare at the nails later with a twisted half-smile. In Paper-Craftsman Chen''s shack, grave willows soaked in corpse oil. The old man threaded bloody nails into a tinkling curtain. "Sedan completes at 1-3 AM." He licked jujube wood scraps. "But leave me an exit." Feng examined the lightning-struck wood under oil lamp light. Annals lay open to blood-stained restoration techniques. When bronze nails pierced the hilt, blue flames erupted ¡ª cracks spiderwebbed through the blade. The blind man doused flames with overturned water: "Celestial and earthly fires clash. This blade''s dead." The girl convulsed, snapping charcoal against concrete. She scratched symbols ¡ª altar tables, nine-grid patterns, jujube wood sigils ¡ª until the stub lodged in the phrase "Lord Grey fears jujube." "Kan 5, Li 3, Zhen 7..." The blind man traced grooves. "Flood Kan, ignite Li. Follow the charcoal path to bypass death gates." Feng noticed the girl''s pupils reflected temple eaves ¡ª the bronze shard in the Chaofeng beast''s mouth pulsed with her breathing. Rain renewed as Paper-Chen pushed the phantom sedan into a memorial pavilion. Blood-nail curtains glowed faintly. Grave willows for bones, bloody nails for curtains ¡ª such a sedan fools netherworld patrols for two hours. The girl crouched drawing matching symbols on her arm ¡ª identical to the troupe leader''s window scratches. Feng polished his single-use sword, noticing faded text on Annals'' back cover: "1998 thunder talisman thieves shall lose three souls." Rats screeched from the temple direction, harmonizing with bronze vessel vibrations. Chapter 30: Nine Palaces of Life and Death The phantom sedan parked in the graveyard''s lee. Corpse-oil candles cast pea-sized green flames as Feng lay inside with Annals of Folk Mysteries on his chest. The "Turtle-Breath Technique" diagrams glowed ominously under sickly light. "Seal heavenly pools, close earthly gates." The blind man''s ice-cold needles pierced three yang meridians. "Suppress breath and pulse until netherworld patrols mistake you for a corpse." Feng''s breathing stretched to two-minute intervals. Body temperature dropped below 10¡ãC. Frost formed on his Adam''s apple as his heartbeat echoed like muffled drums. A paper effigy slithered through the sedan curtain. Paper-Chen slapped a talisman on its head: "Borrows your yang essence as ghostly eyes ¡ª lasts fifteen minutes." The effigy''s eyes flared with will-o''-wisp light. Feng''s vision split ¡ª left eye saw swaying candlelight, right eye viewed bronze vessels hanging in the temple vault through the paper scout. "Shift change at 11:45 PM. Nine minutes thirteen seconds window." The blind man marked crimson dots on his divination plate. Through paper eyes, two grey rats in modified netherworld guard uniforms exchanged a bronze bell engraved "Wu-Yin Year (1998)". The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. The mute girl grabbed Feng''s hand, circling his lightning scar with charcoal. Feng smashed a mirror, burying shards edged with dog blood along the tunnel. The blind man carved "Li Fire Revelation Sigils" on each fragment. Rat gnawing echoes intensified as he finished. "Should Lord Grey flee here..." The blind man wiped blood. "Mirror maze traps him twenty minutes." Feng sprinkled jujube lightning-ash between shards: "Enough to shatter his cultivation." The girl knelt etching 3D schematics into concrete. The temple altar''s nine-grid mechanism magnified, trap gears rendered like engineering blueprints. When depicting the third coffin, her charcoal pierced flooring ¡ª Lord Grey''s casket overflowed with lightning-ash, its lid blood-inscribed "Heavenly Master Manor 1998". "Pursue to the end?" The blind man''s cane absently rubbed sword cracks. Feng polished the umbrella''s butcher phantom: "Lord Grey''s just a watchdog. Those stealing lifespans behind..." The blind man''s sunglasses glinted, a divination stick marked "Mingyi" slipping from his sleeve. Midnight downpour drummed the sedan as Feng''s right eye burned ¡ª the paper scout jammed in a ventilation shaft. Bird''s-eye view revealed the nine-grid floor: Kan position glistening wet, Li position ash-filled, exactly as the girl''s diagrams indicated. "Time to net the fish." Feng yanked neck needles, shivering as body heat returned. The girl pressed the umbrella handle into his palm, charcoal scrawling "Beware Chaofeng''s right eye" on the curtain. Raindrops slid down the temple guardian''s bronze grin. The shard in its right eye pulsed crimson. Feng''s scar seared as lightning-jujube wood resonated like plucked strings. Chapter 31: Thunder Shackles Feng meditated atop the city god temple''s broken stele, Annals of Folk Mysteries open on his lap. Dried blood smudged the "Soul Disorientation Array" diagram''s corner ¡ª the mute girl''s fingerprints. The blind man tapped his cane: "Her wall-phasing comes from Lord Grey sealing her earth soul in those bronze vessels." "Humans have three souls ¡ª earth soul binds physical form." The cane pointed toward the living-burial troupe''s ruins. "With hers imprisoned there, her flesh became spectral mist." The girl toyed with lightning-jujube wood, suddenly plunging it into her chest. Her body dissolved into fog, phasing through temple walls before reforming. Feng tore a page corner: "Use this wood as conduit. Draw the nine-grid disorientation array within the lightning circle." At 11:45 PM, she floated toward western hills. Rodent hordes swarmed at the jujube scent. Deliberately steering the umbrella''s butcher phantom, she smashed it against a withered tree. Lightning-wood debris showered like metallic rain. As rats chased the illusion, she phased through cliff faces repeatedly, coercing the black tide into self-consuming ouroboros. Underground, Feng''s boots ground across floor tiles marked "Kan 5, Li 3, Zhen 7". Gears rumbled as the third coffin exploded open ¡ª Lord Grey''s true form: a calf-sized rat with bronze longevity lock fused to its tailbone, every hair glistening with corpse-oil. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. "A glorified vermin." The blind man sneered, jabbing his cane at coffin-bottom vessels. Lord Grey''s whiskers twitched. Tar-like mucus spewed from wall-mounted bronzes: "Zhang the Blind, should''ve gnawed your legs clean last..." Feng''s Yin Breaker talisman silenced the threat, disintegrating upon mucus contact. He slammed his palm, channeling the Earth Vein Severing technique from the Annals through his palm lines into the cracks. The chamber tilted like storm-tossed skiff. Lord Grey''s claws scraped stone as coffins slid toward escape tunnels¡ª "Mirror array activate!" The blind man struck his cane. Blood-lit shards oozed rodent saliva instead. Feng''s sword arm hovered frozen mid-swing, the peachwood blade''s final charge crackling at its tip. The girl materialized abruptly through the ceiling, translucent body crackling with residual lightning. Lord Grey''s longevity lock glowed white-hot. Feng''s scar and sword erupted in blinding arcs. His mudra transformed the girl into living lightning rod, dragging celestial fury underground¡ª "Heavenly Master thunder arts..." Lord Grey''s shriek died in the maelstrom. Violet dragons of electricity ravaged the chamber. The shattered lock released hundreds of luminous specks ¡ª stolen lifespans escaping through temple eaves. One drifted into a farmhouse window, rousing a comatose child. Dawn pierced stormclouds as Feng helped the blind man exit. Paper-Chen''s phantom sedan listed beside the pavilion, its nail-curtains bleached grey. The girl perched on the Chaofeng beast, carving "1998" into its head ¡ª the bronze shard missing from its right socket. "Time to hunt the next." The blind man rubbed his cane''s fissures, sunglasses mirroring dew on temple eaves. Feng studied his lightning scar, still throbbing with distant thunder''s echo. Chapter 32: Smoldering Threads The incense-choked vault reeked of seven corpse-oil lamps arranged in a Big Dipper formation. As the grey-robed elder stuffed longevity contracts into a rat-head idol''s maw, a faint crack echoed ¡ª spiderweb fractures spread across the statue''s left eye. His heart seized as if gripped by spectral claws before he could reach his luopan. "Lord Grey... the pact..." The elder collapsed onto his divination plate, nose bloodying the "Wu-Xu-Hai Period (1898)" engraving. His extended lifespan ¡ª borrowed shreds from rodent deals ¡ª finally expired. Rats scrambled for scattered contracts beneath the altar, dragging his warmth-flecked corpse into floor cracks. Dawn filtered through guesthouse curtains as Feng tweezed peachwood shards. The carbonized blade crumbled like burnt toast. Six rat-tooth talisman fragments lay displayed, each etched with fading "Zhou Clan, Southern Yunnan" script. The blind man snored nearby, sleeves stained with subterranean moss. "Crude geomantic trap..." Feng flipped Annals to the "Three Coins House Protection" diagram. The mute girl scratched circles in the corner, charcoal stub tracing the blind man''s dropped divination stick ¡ª replicating its "Mingyi" hexagram in shaky strokes. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. "Ha! Poetic!" The blind man jolted upright, scattering talisman shards across his plate. "Kan shifts to Li, Xun enters Kun ¡ª Lord Grey''s vessel network is severed!" Feng dumped sword remnants into trash: "The netherworld''s cauldrons remain intact." Noon sunlight glinted on reassembling coin fragments. Feng lifted his pillow to find yellowed rice paper ¡ª "Netherworld Decree" stamped with bloody rodent prints, paragraphs ranting about "yin-yang transgressions" and "defying underworld codes". "Too coarse for toilet paper." Feng crumpled the decree. It combusted midair in jade flames. The blind man chuckled, "Netherworld scripts hate yang energy. Like burning spirit money." His laughter died as he snapped a divination stick: "Find Lord Grey''s ledger before 3 PM, or wait till next Ghost Festival to petition the underworld..." In Paper-Chen''s shack, a charred ledger page protruded from a paper effigy''s eye socket. The old man extracted it with tweezers, bronze ash snowing down: "July 15, 1998 - Thunder Talisman Theft Mastermind..." Bloodstains drowned the text save "Heavenly Master Manor". The girl pointed southwest. Feng''s lightning scar pulsed as coin fragments realigned ¡ª no longer targeting the city god temple, but Dragon-Tiger Mountain''s sacred peaks forty kilometers away. Chapter 33: Tracing the Endgame Dawn mist clung to the guesthouse floor where Feng mixed cinnabar. Swirling dog blood and incense ash darkened the porcelain bowl. Drafts lifted corners of Yin Breaker talismans, revealing yellowed Annals pages labeled "1998 Addendum". The blind man gnawed cold mantou by the doorframe, cane tip fishing a bronze bead from cracks: "Moss in Lord Grey''s vault reacts to corpse oil mixed with bronze powder." The temple''s rear wall fissure had widened. Feng''s boots crunched charred debris, rot and rodent stench assaulting his senses. The blind man prodded remaining bronze doorframes ¡ª his cane''s embedded compass needle spun wildly: "Kan floods, Li smolders ¡ª lock core at Zhen position, 10cm deep!" The mute girl produced tweezers from her tactical belt, swabbing corpse-oil bronze paste into keyholes. Feng wedged Annals into the door crack, damp pages falling open to "Nine Orifice Locks": "Yin locks require earthly moisture." Groundwater seeped through bricks as verdigris flaked away. Bang! The hidden compartment ejected ash clouds. Feng shielded his face, flashlight beam revealing: Faded ledger: "30% lifespan harvested, 20% tithed to netherworld" The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Bronze guard plaque: "Night Patrol Bureau - Bing-Xu 79", reverse smeared with bloody fingerprint Half-burnt contract: "Ghost Festival (7th lunar month) 9-11 PM, phantom sedan required" stamped with temple seal The blind man seized Feng''s arm. Paper money rustled outside as the girl snapped open her umbrella ¡ª three shadows materialized on the canopy. Two faceless netherworld guards dragged Paper-Chen through fog, his corpse-oil twine scraping blood trails. "Bing-Xu 79 stands here!" Feng blocked their path, slamming the plaque onto the altar. "Nether Code Article 7: Unauthorized detainment warrants tongue excision!" The faceless guards'' void-like faces split into bloody maws: "Obsolete... edition..." Paper-Chen snapped his twine bonds: "Burn, bastards!" Corpse-oil flames erupted three meters high, forming spectral faces. The girl''s umbrella deflected green fire, talismans sizzling through mist walls. Guards retreated as Paper-Chen rolled beneath the altar, black soul-mark branding his neck. "Submit ledger... before 9 PM..." The guards dissolved. Paper-Chen vomited squirming maggots with each word: "Lord Grey''s vessels... refined not lifespan..." Feng examined the soul-mark with tweezers: "Requires lightning-jujube wood carving substitution sigil." Annals flipped open: "Soul-marked mortals must petition City God within three days." The blind man''s cane tapped urgently: "Jujube wood''s west mountain. Before Ghost Festival 3 PM¡ª" Thunder drowned his words. The girl already shouldered their gear pack. Rain drummed temple eaves as storm clouds shrouded distant peaks. Chapter 34: Proxy Peril The city god temple''s rear hall overflowed with Paper-Chen''s materials. Grave willows swelled in corpse oil barrels. A stiffened rooster corpse lay across the altar as the mute girl sketched a nine-grid formation with charcoal. Feng flipped Annals of Folk Mysteries to the "Soul Substitution" entry: "Without lightning-struck wood, use yin-year effigies." "Spent decades crafting paper men ¡ª now I craft my death warrant!" Paper-Chen tore off finger bandages, blood dripping onto willow frames. The blind man painted sigils with cinnabar-dipped cane while the girl inverted her umbrella at the array''s core, its patterns illuminating with incantations. As the effigy took form, the rooster convulsed upright. Paper-Chen bound its claws to the puppet''s wrists with red thread. Feng pressed the bronze guard plaque against the effigy''s chest: "Reverse Kan and Li! Swap yin-yang ¡ª activate!" Yin winds whirled incense ash into a vortex. A twisted black mark emerged on the puppet''s neck. Paper-Chen''s grin died as brass bells exploded ¡ª the effigy''s left leg snapped, rooster eyes erupting maggots. The blind man roared: "Zhen position deviation! Abort!" Feng slapped Yin Breaker talismans on the array core. Papers combusted. The girl''s umbrella intercepted backlash currents, ribs absorbing dispersing yin energy. Paper-Chen slumped against the wall, his soul-mark fading to ash: "Lord Grey''s ledger... those bronze vessels stored POW souls, not lifespans!" This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Feng traced the plaque''s bloody fingerprint. Memories of Taihang Mountain caverns surfaced ¡ª Japanese-occupied war era bone piles mirroring the effigy''s charred fractures. "Why harvest souls?" He wheeled on the blind man. "Unless... Lord Grey served the netherworld bureaucracy." Midnight rain drummed temple tiles. Feng''s phone glowed ¡ª his forum post "Japanese Occult Relics Found in City God Temple" deleted within minutes. The blind man crouched etching netherworld ciphers in corpse oil, now bleeding black. "Bing-Xu 79''s worthless." The blind man spat blood. "The higher-ups sealed the passages long ago." Feng crushed a talisman: "What if we deploy the Sha-Borrowing Mirror Technique against the City God..." "You think the netherworld''s Lord Grey?" The cane cracked stone. "Bone Temple cost seven years lifespan! Try this and we coffin-bound!" Feng shoved temple doors open. Rain veiled the main hall like a slumbering beast. The girl tugged his sleeve, charcoal scribbling on his palm: "Netherworld Chapter, Page 274." Annals flipped autonomously in the damp air, settling on scrawled marginalia: Bearer of netherguard plaques may bridge realms via Ghost Festival mists. Living trespassers must anoint three souls with corpse oil, bind seven spirits to paper steeds. Should cockcrow sound during return, ingest glutinous rice immediately... Paper-Chen''s snores echoed, his soul-mark pulsing rhythmically. Feng tore out the page, stuffing it into his tactical pack where lightning-jujube remnants smoldered. Beyond the storm-shrouded mountains, lightning forks illuminated the horizon.