After sending the message using Yang Jingtai’s phone, Wen Yaozhi reached out to pull Lu Xincheng up.
Lu Xincheng swayed as he stood, a wave of dizziness washing over him. The side effects of forcibly absorbing a massive amount of soul power had not yet dissipated. He steadied himself and said, “Five people came down earlier. One is unconscious and two went back up, so there should be two others left in the cave besides us.”
“There are three,” Wen Yaozhi corrected nonchalantly.
Lu Xincheng raised an eyebrow. “Who is the third?”
“Not important.”
The two began walking back. In the passage, Lu Xincheng spotted the person Wen Yaozhi had deemed “unimportant.” Yang Jingtai was lying on the ground, already fallen into a deep coma. As if he had not seen him at all, Wen Yaozhi took a long stride and stepped right over him.
Lu Xincheng recognized him as the “expert” invited to the villa to oversee things. He did not know what the man had gone through, but the injuries on his body were gruesome. Because the body was sprawled across the middle of the path like a roadblock, Lu Xincheng could not bring himself to just step over a person. He tilted his head for a few seconds, then with a light flick of his fingers, the body was swept aside like a giant piece of trash.
Lu Xincheng did not spare him a second glance as he walked past. Wen Yaozhi watched this scene from the corner of his eye, making no move to stop him. “The Soul-Summoning Technique was this man’s handiwork.”
Lu Xincheng shrugged, indicating he already knew.
Wen Yaozhi glanced at him but said nothing more. They returned to the previous fork in the road and turned their gaze toward the left passage, where a complex and terrifying aura was oozing out. There was no telling how many evil spirits remained in this cavern. Why on earth did Dai Shengfan build the manor on top of a mine and demand the lives of innocent people as burial sacrifices?
Lu Xincheng suddenly spoke up. “What did you mean earlier when you said he has more than one departed soul under his command?”
Wen Yaozhi looked at him sideways. “Have you heard of Tears of Lovesickness?”
Lu Xincheng pursed his lips and gave a low “Mm.”
Seemingly indifferent to his reaction, Wen Yaozhi continued, “Tears of Lovesickness was Dai Shengfan’s claim to fame. The TV series was filmed seventeen years ago. Beyond the show itself, what the world remembers most is the accident behind it. When the crew was filming the final wrap-up scene, the entire production team went down to a mine set. The mine collapsed, and the entire team was buried alive.”
“The whole team?”
“Yes. Aside from the director himself, who happened to be absent, none of the other dozen or so people, including the actors and crew, ever made it out.”
Lu Xincheng’s expression hardened. The two walked one after the other through the long, narrow corridor. Aside from the sound of their footsteps, it was unnervingly quiet.
“You really live up to your reputation as the ‘Terror of Ghosts.’ Since you arrived, it has become quite peaceful here.”
Wen Yaozhi let out a cold snort but did not answer. Most of the ghosts had been eliminated the moment Wen Yaozhi stepped into the basement. The few remaining were now hiding, suppressed by the immense intimidation of the Ghost Hunter. The cave was clean, without a trace of ghostly aura.
Except, Wen Yaozhi’s peripheral vision flickered toward the person beside him. His golden pupils reflected the thick, grim ghostly energy surrounding his companion. Wen Yaozhi asked seemingly at random, “That crystal you gave me, you took it from the mine. Had you been down here before?”
“Yao-zi!” A crystal traced a trajectory through the air like a brilliant aurora in the sunlight. Wen Yaozhi caught it mid-air and opened his palm. It was a thumb-sized, pure white crystal radiating a soul-stirring, translucent luster. It had not been polished, and its edges were quite rough.
“Keep this for me,” his friend whispered, his voice tinged with mystery. “You must put it in a safe. This thing is more precious than my life.”
Wen Yaozhi did not even look at it closely before tossing it back. “I do not have room for your ‘life’ here.”
“Do not be like that! I am joking, it is a fake and it is not worth much.”
Wen Yaozhi sneered, “Then I want it even less.”
Lu Xincheng’s face stiffened and he shoved the item back toward the other man regardless of his protests. “Just keep it for a few days. My scenes will be wrapped up soon, and I will come get it once I am off the set.”
Wen Yaozhi stopped refusing and casually slipped it into his pocket. “Fine.”
“Yes, I was not the only one who came down,” Lu Xincheng’s voice was steady. “There was also Fang Ming, Hu Xiaonian, and Qiu Yan. During a drinking session, Fang Ming mentioned there was good stuff in the manor’s basement and brought us down that night.”
“And then?”
“We were all pretty wasted at the time. I happened to have a sharp tool on me, so I dug out a small piece.”
Wen Yaozhi knew the “sharp tool” Lu Xincheng mentioned. It was a specially made short blade he had given him years ago for self-defense.
“This tiny piece of crystal cost you your life.” Wen Yaozhi had seen those raw ores on the way in. “These crystals are not just ordinary raw minerals. They have been tainted by some kind of soul power, which is why they have such a strong attraction to humans.”
“Soul power? What is…” Lu Xincheng’s voice cut off abruptly. Before them was another dead end. At the end of the wall stood a very classical and noble wooden arched door. It was built grandly, with a frame even inlaid with a gold rim. On the other side of the door, a man was reclining leisurely on a woven rattan lounge chair.
He was a refined-looking, middle-aged man wearing glasses and an outdated brown knit sweater. He sat there serenely with a book in his hand. For a moment, it created a bizarre sensation, as if this man were sitting in his own backyard filled with greenery and the two who had entered were merely unwelcome guests disturbing his peace.
That is, if there were not a man and a woman kneeling there, trembling in fear. Those were the two people Lu Xincheng recognized from the film crew: the assistant director, Li Xuexin, and the female lead, Hu Xiaonian.
The man put down his book, his gaze sweeping between the two before finally landing on Wen Yaozhi. “More people.” He tapped his chin, rubbing it with interest. “Two meals delivered in one day? I cannot believe my luck.”
He looked Wen Yaozhi up and down, revealing a satisfied expression, and spat some bloody saliva onto the ground. “You might taste better than him.”
Wen Yaozhi followed his gaze. Blood was gushing from Li Xuexin’s shoulder because a large chunk of flesh had actually been bitten off. Yet, he did not even dare to cry out, leaning weakly against Hu Xiaonian.
Then, they saw the other side of the man’s face as he turned. It could not be called skin at all. It was like shriveled, dried-up tree bark. It was not just his face; the entire other half of his body was withered and gaunt. This was absolutely not a form a human could possess.
“Quite scary, is it not?” The man licked his bright red lips, having just finished eating, and laughed eerily. “It is fine. Once I am full, everything will be fine.”
In the next second, his figure flashed and appeared directly in front of Wen Yaozhi. His refined eyes instantly transformed into the naked, predatory greed of a beast. The speed was staggering, as if he had appeared out of thin air. It was so fast that even a deity might not have time to react within that 0.1-second window.
However, Wen Yaozhi was truly a top-tier Ghost Hunter. His reflexes and muscle strength were elite, and his combat instincts were incredibly sharp. His powerful perception allowed him to predict the move and step back half a pace. Simultaneously, he gripped the short blade from his sleeve in a reverse hold. While dodging the fatal attack, he snapped his wrist forward, driving the peach-wood blade into the neck of the evil spirit before him.
There was an audible sound of tearing flesh and the resistance of the neck bone felt through his hand. Both indicated that the being in front of him was definitely not a mere soul. At the very least, he possessed a physical body.
Wen Yaozhi let go. The section of peach wood was almost entirely submerged, with only a tiny tip sticking out. There was no sign of pain on the man’s face, as if he were not the one whose vital point had been pierced. A mocking expression gradually appeared on his face. He reached out and slowly pulled the peach wood from his neck. Both the hand gripping the wood and the puncture wound hissed with white vapor.
With a distorted expression, he threw the weapon far away. Meanwhile, within the massive wound, the rotten flesh rapidly regenerated. “A Taoist? These tricks for dealing with ordinary ghosts will not hurt me. You had better reincarnate and go back to sweeping floors in a temple. Tell that guy named Dai to send someone in a purple robe instead.”
Wen Yaozhi ignored the provocation and caught the key point. “What is your relationship with Dai Shengfan?”
At the mention of that name, the man’s pupils behind his glasses constricted sharply. The fake, hypocritical gentleness in his eyes vanished, replaced by heavy malice. “You should not have said that name. However, a young Taoist should taste better than an old one.”
The evil spirit curled his lips into a chilling smile and lunged at Wen Yaozhi the next second. Ziwu was unsheathed, moving so fast it left only an afterimage in the air. A cold light flashed.
The two crossed paths. Wen Yaozhi slightly bowed his body as he withdrew his force, wisps of black energy swirling around his sword. The evil spirit’s body froze in mid-air. After a few seconds of lag, cracks appeared on his neck and limbs. His limbs flew off in four directions and his head flew up in a small arc, rolling a long distance after hitting the ground. The head rolled to a stop right at Lu Xincheng’s feet.
The torso hit the ground heavily. Normally, any evil spirit struck by Ziwu would instantly dissipate into ash, but this one was clearly not so easy to kill. The head still retained its dominant consciousness. It rolled half a turn on the spot until its inverted vision finally righted itself. Almost immediately, it tried to find its torso and limbs. The torso had also stood up, stumbling around to find its direction.
A foot stepped mercilessly onto his face. “Do you really think I cannot make your soul perish forever?” The cold voice seemed to come from hell.
The head strained to look sideways at the person treading on him like trash. Only now did he realize the massive gap in their strength, but it was already too late.
“Do not kill him yet.” The gentle voice was like the most soothing spring breeze, giving the evil spirit a jolt of hope.
He had noticed earlier that the young Taoist was followed by a spirit. Although it was like a cat traveling with a mouse, looking very discordant, he had focused all his attention on the human and had not paid it much mind. Now, he looked closely at this new soul. Based on appearance alone, he was very pleasing to the eye, with a handsome face full of warm and harmless smiles. Of course, if he had looked any deeper, he would have discovered the coldness and indifference within those star-like eyes.
Wen Yaozhi had a look on his face that said, “If I do not kill him, how am I supposed to handle this?”
Lu Xincheng smiled, a look more radiant than a spring day in March.
“Kill me. Please, just kill me!”
The limbs and torso thrown into the bonfire were quickly swallowed by thick black smoke, and the flames flared up even more intensely. The head let out a whimper, the black-red tongues of fire reflected in his despairing eyes.
“Now,” Wen Yaozhi placed the completely broken head onto the rattan chair, “let us talk.”
The shriveled book was now in Wen Yaozhi’s hand. “Gong Yu.” He looked down at the author’s name on the page. “You are not like the other ghosts here. What are you?” Wen Yaozhi stood there with his arms crossed. His tone was less like a chat and more like an interrogation.
“He has a physical body; he does not belong to the category of ghosts.” As a ghost himself, Lu Xincheng had a lot of authority on this point.
Gong Yu glared fiercely at the new soul. The culprit who burned his body was this malicious brat. Despite his fierce gaze, his tone lacked any fight. “He is right. Strictly speaking, I have kept a human body, but I do not age, get sick, or die.”
At these words, Wen Yaozhi’s expression shifted slightly.
“The only problem is,” Gong Yu said with difficulty, “I am always hungry. It is not an ordinary hunger. That kind of hunger can drive a person insane. I can even feel my internal organs starting to devour each other. I will not die, but the pain makes you wish you could die instantly.”
Lu Xincheng looked the head up and down. Although he was currently so pathetic he did not even have a body, the composed manner he showed when they first met was hard to reconcile with his description. Connecting it to what the man had said at the beginning, there was only one conclusion: someone was feeding him regularly.
“I cannot leave this basement. I thought I would go completely mad in despair, but unexpectedly, things took a turn. At first, it was an ordinary Taoist, then sporadically, there would be others every once in a while. But there was only ever one at a time.”
“Who sent those people down?” Lu Xincheng already had the answer in his heart.
The hatred in the head’s eyes was blatant as he squeezed the name through his back teeth: “Dai Shengfan.”