Corpse Stench

Rustle! A slender figure darted swiftly through the woods, crashing through thickets with bursts of chaotic noise. Suddenly, the figure came to a stop atop a massive boulder. The mournful, shrill wails of ghosts once again drowned out all surrounding sounds, pouring continuously from her arms. Her two sleeves were puffed out as though billowed by wind, yet the hands emerging from them were exceptionally thin. Those palms were riddled with pitch-black holes. Streams of "ghost breath" surged and vibrated out of these apertures, bringing with them wave after wave of ghostly weeping. "That corpse stench—is it getting further or closer?" Controlling Ding Ling's body, Zhou Yang lifted her pale, chalky little face, scanning their surroundings repeatedly as he spoke. "Further... much further..." Ding Ling's voice echoed in his mind. "Good." Zhou Yang acknowledged her and sprang off the boulder onto his toes. The Ghost's Mouths along Ding Ling's arms shut one by one. Only a single opening was kept open in her left palm to maintain the most basic Ghost Breath while minimizing the toll on Ding Ling's physical body. "Then let's keep heading in this direction until you can't smell that corpse stench at all. That should shake off the ghost's influence over you." Back when the anomaly appeared in the stone house, those nearby who fell under the ghost's sway could smell a sickeningly sweet, putrid corpse stench. Gao Hongbo had been the first to catch that stench. Right after that, his mind had grown muddled, and he had made straight for the stone house. Ding Ling was the second. Fortunately, Zhou Yang reacted quickly. He immediately took over Ding Ling's body, activated Ghost Breath, and fled in a wild sprint. Because of that, Ding Ling broke free of the ghost's influence, and her wits returned. She later concluded that the farther they fled from that corpse stench, the more thoroughly one could cast off the strange entity's influence inside the stone house. Although Zhou Yang and Ding Ling were currently sharing the same vessel, Zhou Yang had not been affected by the ghost. At present, Ding Ling was the only one who could still smell that corpse stench. Zhou Yang bounded and sprinted across the mountains. Neither craggy rocks nor rugged mountain paths could impede his stride in the slightest. Once Ghost Breath was activated, every aspect of the physical constitution improved significantly—far beyond just an increase in strength. The mountain woods were swiftly left behind. Not until he turned onto a wide road and approached the hillside where the opera troupe stayed did Ding Ling finally stop smelling that corpse stench. ... By the time the two returned to the troupe, dusk had already settled on all sides. In the sprawling, dilapidated courtyard, Chang Dafeng sat below the steps before the main hall, puffing steadily on his pipe. The twilight cast over his face gave him a solemn, brooding air. The troupe leader stared fixedly at the tall, sturdy man standing in the middle of the courtyard, not even paying heed to Ding Ling returning with firewood. He asked the man directly: "You mean to tell me that Shitouzi was chasing a roe deer, didn't see the steep slope ahead, lunged forward, couldn't stop himself, tumbled down the slope, and just died like that?" The burly man stood with his back to Ding Ling, his shoulders trembling faintly. Hearing the troupe leader's inquiry, he replied dispiritedly, "I climbed down the slope and hauled this deer back... "Little Stone... I checked him... his neck hit a tree stump and snapped..." As he spoke, he pressed the tips of his palms together to form a right angle. That right angle was enough to let anyone imagine just what kind of break had snapped the neck of Shitouzi—the youngest and most timid member of the opera troupe. *Shitou is dead too.* Ding Ling conversed with Zhou Yang in her mind, her thoughts brimming with worry. She continued, *This tall man is Qian Heng, the troupe's martial actor.* *He took Shitou out this morning to dig up wild herbs and find food for the troupe.* *Who would have thought Shitou would snap his neck chasing a roe deer and fall to his death...* "Could this Qian Heng be lying?" Zhou Yang suddenly suggested. *It's possible, but why would he?* Ding Ling didn't reject Zhou Yang's conjecture, but said, *Shitouzi and Qian Heng got along very well.* *In name, Shitou took Troupe Leader Chang as his master, but Qian Heng taught him the most and held almost nothing back... Why would he murder Shitou at a crucial moment like this?* *There's no benefit to him doing that. It makes no sense...* Zhou Yang said nothing further. Through Ding Ling's eyes, he looked toward Chang Dafeng. Chang Dafeng's expression darkened considerably. He lowered his pipe and suddenly let out a sinister sneer. "Night is about to fall, and the ritual of 'Inviting the Ghost to Select the Play' will begin any moment. At an hour like this, there is no way I can step foot outside! "No one else can verify what really happened to Shitouzi. Only you—" Here, the troupe leader pointed his pipe straight at Qian Heng across from him, snapping sharply, "Only you know best in your own heart!" "It's all my fault! It's all because I didn't keep an eye on the boy! "I'll go find him right now! Even if it kills me, I'll bring his body back!" Tears streamed down Qian Heng's face in an instant. He turned on his heel, about to head out the gate. "Hold it!" Chang Dafeng barked at him to stop, his tone still dripping with cynicism. "Who knows whether you took the chance while out to let Shitouzi run away? "You let him escape, and then wait for an opening to flee yourself—wouldn't that leave the entire troupe behind to take the blame and suffer the disaster for the two of you?" Qian Heng's lips trembled, his eyes rimmed with red. Zhou Yang and Ding Ling watched his every expression and movement. If such grief was merely an act, then Qian Heng's acting was nothing short of miraculous. He slowly turned back around, facing Chang Dafeng head-on, and said in a trembling voice, "Shitouzi... is truly gone..." "Let's hope so. "Let's hope you weren't scheming to send Shitouzi away—that would only have been his undoing! "A living soul fleeing a deadland unprovoked will only awaken the ghosts within ahead of time. "He won't escape, and everyone else will suffer alongside him!" Chang Dafeng cast an inscrutable look at Qian Heng. Watching from the sidelines, Zhou Yang read a great deal into his expression. Zhou Yang's intuition told him that Chang Dafeng's subtext went far beyond merely warning Qian Heng not to break the taboo by helping Little Stone escape. There was another, deeper meaning. *Scheming to send Shitouzi away...* Zhou Yang turned Chang Dafeng's words over in his mind. It felt like a clue. Yet it also felt like nothing at all. At that moment, Chang Dafeng shifted his gaze toward Ding Ling. Ding Ling's heart tightened under his emotionless stare. "And what happened on your end? "Three of you went out to chop firewood, and only you came back?" Chang Dafeng asked with a wooden face. "We ran into a ghost..." Ding Ling pressed her lips tight and answered. She and Zhou Yang had already agreed on the way back that regarding the encounter at the stone house, everything could be told truthfully, except for Zhou Yang's existence and the Ghost Breath he provided her. Since Ding Ling was speaking the truth, she felt no guilt. Nor was there any need for Zhou Yang to step in and face Chang Dafeng's interrogation for her. "Ran into a ghost..." The moment Ding Ling spoke those words, the atmosphere in the courtyard grew intensely somber. A chilling glint flashed in Chang Dafeng's eyes as he stared unblinkingly at Ding Ling, trying to discern the truth of her words from her expression. Even Qian Heng, overcome with grief, momentarily forgot his sorrow and turned to look at Ding Ling, his face fraught with dread. "What happened? "Tell me every detail," Chang Dafeng said, lowering his head as if absorbed in fiddling with his pipe. His voice softened as he questioned her. Ding Ling then recounted everything—how they had spotted a stone house in the woods, and how she, Gao Hongbo, and Li Yichun had encountered the ghost. She omitted only the part where she was entranced by the ghost and ran toward the house. Once she finished speaking, Zhou Yang observed Chang Dafeng's expression and knew he believed her account. "The three of you went to chop firewood, yet in uninhabited mountains you happened upon a stone house built by villagers; "Those two went to dig wild herbs, yet in such desolate hills they ran into a roe deer... "Two of your three were lost, and one of their two died. In the blink of an eye... only three of us remain in the whole troupe. Could this be fate?" Dispirited, Chang Dafeng shook his head and slowly rose from the steps. With hands clasped behind his back, he turned and walked toward the main hall. During their conversation, darkness had mostly overtaken the sky. A hazy gloom spread across the land, and the residences of Daliang Village beneath the distant mountain ridge were completely shrouded in the dim obscurity. *Thud, thud, thud...* Suddenly, a frantic patter of footsteps drifted up from the base of the slope, drawing closer and closer. Qian Heng's heart instantly leaped into his throat. He shot Ding Ling a panicked glance, then rushed toward the courtyard gate, pulling the two doors together to shut them completely— "Don't close the gate! "Let me in first!" Just as the doors met, a man's voice on the verge of tears squeezed through the crack. Qian Heng seemed entirely deaf to this shrill voice, focusing every ounce of his attention on shoving the door bolt into place. "Brother Qian, the person outside seems to be Li Yichun!" Ding Ling called out in warning. "It's already dark—how could there still be people outside?!" Qian Heng whipped his head around, his square face drenched in sweat. His eyes widened as he snapped at Ding Ling, "It's a ghost in disguise! "If it can impersonate Li Yichun, it can impersonate Shitouzi—and it can impersonate Gao Hongbo! "If we open the gate for a ghost, won't that ruin us all?!" Qian Heng's violent reaction struck the observing Zhou Yang as deeply uncanny. The man had mentioned "Shitou," only to cover it up immediately. It was as if Shitouzi had become a forbidden topic Qian Heng dared not touch at night. "I'm not a ghost, I'm human! "I'm Li Yichun! Brother Qian, please let me in!" Hearing Qian Heng's rebuke, whoever was outside—human or ghost—began frantically banging against the wooden gate, pleading over and over. Qian Heng clamped his mouth shut and shook his head repeatedly, refusing to answer or open the gate under any circumstances. "Open the gate and let Master Li in!" At that moment, Chang Dafeng stepped out from the main hall with a cloth pouch tucked into his waistband. With his command given, Qian Heng dared not disobey and could only unbar the gate. There stood Li Yichun, his clothes covered in tears and smeared with plant sap. He stumbled into the courtyard and collapsed prone on the ground, the embroidered shoes on his feet already gaping wide open at the seams— His wretched state was unmistakably that of someone who had fled in terror through the mountain woods for a very long time! Watching Li Yichun truly walk through the door, a flicker of surprise flashed through Ding Ling's eyes. She had never imagined that Li Yichun could also have escaped the influence of the stone house's horror! "Does he carry that corpse stench on him?" Zhou Yang suddenly asked.