Chapter Seventeen: Songs in the Midnight

Fu Yang leapt up as well, excitement in his voice as he asked Ah Huang, “How can I help you?”

“Good, first, catch that rooster for me, kill it, and drain its blood!”

“Uh… why don’t you just do that yourself?”

“As a master, I have no desire to grapple with a chicken.”

“Damn…”

Helpless, Fu Yang rummaged through the cloth bundle Ah Huang had opened, pulled out a sharp dagger, and stalked toward the rooster with murderous intent.

Clearly, this fellow had never killed a chicken before; unbelievably, his first move was to remove the muzzle that had been strapped over the rooster’s beak.

The rooster immediately began to shriek as if something unspeakable had just happened to it, its cries utterly miserable.

“Stop screaming!” Fu Yang snapped.

The rooster only crowed louder.

“To hell with this!”

In a panic, Fu Yang raised the knife and brought it down with such force that he severed the rooster’s head entirely. Blood spurted out in a sudden rush.

Ah Huang, who had been preparing other ritual items nearby, gaped in horror. “Quick, catch the blood in a bowl! If we lose the rooster’s blood, we’re both screwed!”

After a frantic scramble, they finally managed to collect a large bowl of chicken blood.

Our poor, unfortunate ****** was barely clinging to life, and in the next moment, was no more…

Ah Huang took the still-steaming bowl of rooster’s blood and poured it all into the ink. With a brush, he stirred the mixture until the red and black swirled together in a macabre, unnatural way.

Then, with a flourish, he dipped the brush into the bloody ink, and between strokes as wild as writhing dragons and serpents, a talisman gradually began to take shape—far more complex than the one he’d drawn earlier to measure Linxin Lake’s depth.

Fu Yang watched with rapt attention, his curiosity piqued. Unbidden, a desire to learn the ways of the Dao began to stir in his heart.

After working for a while, Ah Huang paused before finishing.

Fu Yang, curious, asked, “What’s wrong?”

Ah Huang scratched his nose awkwardly. “Well… the steps for this Invisibility Array Talisman are really complicated. I’ve forgotten a bit—I’ll have to check the book.” As he spoke, he pulled an ancient, yellowed thread-bound book from within his voluminous robe and, frowning in concentration, began to compare notes while painting the talisman with the rooster’s blood ink.

Fu Yang was instantly filled with dread: Damn it! Why do I feel like we’re going to get ourselves killed by a vengeful ghost tonight?

After nearly an hour of fumbling, Ah Huang finally finished what he called a highly advanced “Invisibility Array Talisman.” By then, it was past seven in the evening.

The lumber yard was long deserted, the sun had vanished, and night had fully descended. Around Linxin Lake, darkness was absolute—a hand in front of your face would be invisible. No birds, no insects. It felt like a giant, sinister tomb. Fu Yang found it even more terrifying than the West Mountain Cemetery they’d visited before…

“With the urgency of command, Three Pure Ones grant me strength! Array, arise!”

Ah Huang formed strange hand seals that Fu Yang couldn’t decipher, touched his temples, and, incredibly, his eyes began to glow in the dark.

At the same moment, the talisman painted with rooster’s blood and dusted with cinnabar began to shine with a bright, gentle light. It floated above their heads, casting an eggshell-shaped shield of light around them. It looked remarkably secure.

From a distance, Fu Yang and Ah Huang were like two figures sitting inside a glowing transparent dome, dazzlingly conspicuous amidst the pitch-black forest…

“Hey Ah Huang, isn’t this a bit too high-profile? Won’t that Water Wraith Corpse spot us the moment it appears?”

“Not at all. Actually, only we can see the array created by this talisman as so bright and clear. To everyone—and everything—else, including ghosts, it’s still complete darkness. Even if we shouted at the top of our lungs inside, nothing would notice us.”

“Amazing!”

“Don’t get obsessed with me, bro—I’m just a legend…”

The two of them, both rough-and-tumble sorts, bantered idly as the night deepened and the temperature dropped. Fu Yang felt a chill creeping in.

After all, while the array could block a ghost’s senses, it couldn’t hold back the real-world cold.

Gurgle, gurgle.

On the dark surface of Linxin Lake, a great roiling of water appeared, surging and bubbling like a geyser.

From the center of these churning waves, a woman’s head, shrouded in hair, began to emerge. Then two pale, swollen arms reached out, pressing down on the water’s surface.

With a heave, the lower half of her body rose up as well.

It was a terrifying Water Wraith Corpse!

Its limbs twisted grotesquely. Like a monstrous spider, it sprawled atop the water, black hair draped over its body, and began to scuttle rapidly toward the shore…

Fu Yang, who had been dozing off while staring at the lake, jolted awake in terror at the sight, nearly wetting himself. Sleep was forgotten in an instant.

He nudged the nearly-sleeping Ah Huang frantically. “It’s here! It’s here!”

“It’s here? A beauty? Where?” Ah Huang jerked upright, looking around wildly, even wiping drool from the corner of his mouth.

Fu Yang rolled his eyes so hard it was almost audible and gave Ah Huang a solid kick. “Damn it, we’re hunting ghosts! Can you be serious for a moment?”

Shaking his head vigorously, Ah Huang finally sobered up. Under Fu Yang’s murderous glare, he turned his gaze to the lake. The soaking wet Water Wraith Corpse had reached the shore and was standing, moving slowly.

With each step, a deep, creaking sound came from its hair-entwined frame—like bones splintering and twisting.

Fu Yang, seeing a Water Wraith Corpse in the flesh for the first time, stared unblinkingly.

Perhaps because, aside from a tense expression, Fu Yang showed no other reaction, Ah Huang felt a bit let down. “Huh? You’re not scared? That’s a real vengeful ghost—it could kill you in seconds!”

“Of course I’m scared! But there’s no need to scream like a lunatic, is there?”

Protected by the Invisibility Array Talisman, the terrifying Water Wraith Corpse indeed took no notice of them. Step by step, it moved farther from the water, heading toward a patch of tall grass.

Ah Huang gripped the peach wood short sword he’d prepared long ago. “Stay inside the array and be careful. I’ll go deal with this ghost.”

He had barely finished speaking when a clear, childish singing echoed through the dark, deathly silent forest.

“Come, come, chop off a head, chop off a head to play ball. If that’s not enough, what should we do? Kill some more, and don’t regret it…”

It was a bright child’s voice, even a bit cute.

But in this setting, with those lyrics, there was nothing adorable about it—only a terror that eclipsed even the horrifying Water Wraith Corpse!

Fu Yang’s scalp prickled, chilled to the core. He whipped around to stare in the direction of the singing. “Who’s there?! What the hell is that?”

Ah Huang turned sharply as well, staring in disbelief at the locust grove by the lake. His face drained of color, and a flicker of fear shone in his eyes.