Li Zhuiyuan sat on the floor, his fingers gently rubbing his temples.
Controlling a dead-flipper for the first time had worn him out. He needed to unwind and recover as quickly as possible, because he still had a great deal left to do.
Unless something unexpected intervened, he was about to push himself past his limits as never before.
An overexertion like that had a high chance of causing severe damage to his body.
He knew this perfectly well, yet he chose to proceed regardless.
Because he was angry.
To him, that was a rare and precious emotion.
Just then, the girl and the woman knelt before him side by side.
Seeing this, Li Zhuiyuan waved a hand at them, but it produced no effect.
He had already released his control over them. By all rights, they should have remained standing motionlessly, or else returned—one into the rice crock, the other onto the bed.
Li Zhuiyuan rose helplessly, and mother and daughter stood up with him.
He walked over to the table and sat back down in his original seat.
The girl and the woman followed him, taking seats directly to his right.
Tan Wenbin was already slumped there in a deep stupor.
Now, he was tightly wedged between the two of them, pinned from left and right.
Li Zhuiyuan did not bother to rearrange them. At the very least, it would ensure that the sleeping Binbin did not fall over.
Once seated, however, the facial expressions and movements of the two spirits began to warp slightly—an ominous precursor to losing control.
Though Li Zhuiyuan did not fully grasp the underlying principles, he had a fair idea of how to handle it.
"Rest assured. What I promised you, I will accomplish.
"For now, please bear with it a little longer. Zhou Yong was merely a blade wielded by someone else. Surely you have no wish to let the real culprit—the one truly responsible for tormenting you like this—walk away scot-free?"
Hearing those words, both mother and daughter settled down once more.
"Brother Runsheng, secure and pack Zhou Yong up. Wake me once you're done. I'm going to doze off for a bit."
"Got it, don't worry, Xiao Yuan."
By this point, Zhou Yong had been pinned into the corner by Runsheng, the blade of the Yellow River shovel wedged across his neck to physically immobilize him.
The corpse had already grown extremely weak. Though his hands still clawed at the shovel, he possessed far too little strength to put up any real resistance.
Runsheng walked over to the burlap sack, drew out the soul-returning basket and the Guixiang net, and spread them flat upon the floor.
Taking out his box of seal paste, he pressed all ten fingertips into the cinnabar in sequence. Moving through a set series of ritual hand gestures, he grasped the Guixiang net at various points before locking his fingers tight around the cords and clapping his hands sharply together. In this way, red seals were symmetrically and evenly applied across the mesh, ensuring its spiritual potency would take full effect.
The entire sequence was smooth, ceremonial, and visually impressive, but utterly lacking in practicality.
After all, not every dead-flipper would stand politely still while you took your sweet time prepping your gear.
Of course, Runsheng wished he could do as Xiao Yuan did—swiping a smudge of red paste on a fingertip and tracing a casual stroke to instantly consecrate an implement.
He had tried, but failed. Xiao Yuan's effortless ease was built upon precise calculations. Xiao Yuan knew exactly where to touch and how much to apply, and though he had tried teaching Runsheng, the older youth's head simply couldn't handle the math.
Once the preparatory steps on both the basket and the net were complete, Runsheng inverted the soul-returning basket over Zhou Yong's head and pulled it downward, encasing him completely. Next, he wound the Guixiang net tightly around him, wrapping Zhou Yong up like a reed-leaf dumpling.
Finally, Runsheng produced the paper talismans that Xiao Yuan had drawn personally and slapped one onto Zhou Yong's skull.
Each talisman discolored the moment it touched the forehead. Runsheng peeled it off, slapped on a fresh one, watched it turn color again, and repeated the process through seven consecutive talismans before finally stopping, marking the end of the ritual.
Even Zhou Yong's murky, dead eyes seemed to flicker with a trace of bewilderment at this spectacle.
Li Zhuiyuan had told Runsheng that the talismans he drew were practically useless, but Runsheng hadn't believed him, convinced that Xiao Yuan was merely being modest.
With Zhou Yong packaged securely, Runsheng turned his back to the bundle and hoisted the corpse onto his shoulders in the standard corpse-carrying posture.
At that moment, Tan Wenbin stirred awake.
He felt utterly drained, as though the vitality had been scooped clean out of his body.
Dazedly lifting his head, he cracked his eyes open and glanced at the young girl pressing against his left side. Then he turned his head and looked at the woman pressing against his right.
Assuming he was still asleep and trapped in a nightmare, he closed his eyes and slumped forward again.
A heartbeat later, he opened them wide once more, glancing left, then right.
He swallowed dryly.
Jerking bolt upright, he drew breath to let out a bloodcurdling scream, only for Runsheng's broad hand to clamp hard over his mouth.
"Mmph, mmph—!"
"Shh."
Tan Wenbin nodded frantically.
Runsheng released his grip.
Tan Wenbin turned around, just as Runsheng leaned sideways to gently shake Li Zhuiyuan awake. The shift brought Zhou Yong's packaged face on Runsheng's back almost cheek-to-cheek with Tan Wenbin.
Li Zhuiyuan woke up. Seeing that Runsheng had finished the preparations, he rose to his feet as well, though he still asked with concern, "Brother Binbin, are you all right?"
"I... what happened to me? Oh, nothing serious, just... feel so damn tired."
"Go back to Grandpa Shan's place and sleep."
"No, I can still manage. I can still help." Tan Wenbin tottered to his feet, finally freeing himself from the chang ghosts on either side. He bent double, wheezing heavily for air.
"Brother Binbin, eat some good food over the next few days to nurse your strength back."
"Yeah, I will. I had no idea my constitution was this weak."
"Brother Runsheng, let's go."
The three of them stepped out of the house and walked down the courtyard.
Behind them, the distinct sound of a door locking echoed from the house, followed by the click of the lights shutting off. In the pale moonlight, two silhouettes flickered past the kitchen and bedroom windows.
With Zhou Yong taken beyond the perimeter of his home, the woman and girl could only return to their designated spots to await their master's return.
This was the life Zhou Yong had fought so desperately to preserve.
Li Zhuiyuan looked back, his gaze fixed on the water well in the courtyard.
"Brother Runsheng, stay here."
"All right."
"Brother Binbin, do you have any strength left?"
Tan Wenbin nodded vigorously. "I can manage!"
"Thank you for your trouble."
"Brother Xiao Yuan, it's fine. Trust me."
Li Zhuiyuan and Tan Wenbin walked back onto the courtyard. Because Runsheng remained outside with Zhou Yong on his back, the mother and daughter inside the house were not drawn out into motion again.
Lifting the conical bamboo hat covering the well, Li Zhuiyuan took the rope attached to the hanging bucket beside it and tied it securely around his waist. He then tossed the other end to Tan Wenbin.
"Hold tight to it."
"Got it." To be safe, Tan Wenbin wound the rope twice around his own torso and gave a thumbs-up gesture.
Holding a flashlight in his left hand and his downsized Yellow River shovel in his right, Li Zhuiyuan lowered himself into the well, descending inch by inch until he stopped half a meter above the water's surface.
Up at the rim, Tan Wenbin lay flat on his back, bracing his body against the stones. With his arms weak and trembling, he could only use his entire frame as an anchor.
In the beam of the flashlight, Li Zhuiyuan examined the patterns carved into the stone wall of the well.
Ripples stirred across the water beneath his feet. Directing the beam downward, he saw a thick, muscular water snake gliding beneath the surface.
Li Zhuiyuan paid the serpent no mind; it was bound under the water, unable to leave the surface.
Raising his shovel, he began to alter the carved formations on the wall.
The depths of the well were bone-chilling, yet sweat broke out across his forehead until he was drenched.
Modifying an existing formation carved by another practitioner was far harder than establishing one from scratch, demanding vastly more deduction and calculation.
Yet he had no alternative. First, time was too tight; second, gathering the esoteric materials needed to lay an entirely new array would have been impossible on short notice.
Most importantly, preserving the enemy's original foundation made it far easier to turn the trap against them.
An hour later, Li Zhuiyuan gave the rope a firm tug.
Above, bruised and aching from the taut rope but somewhat rested, Tan Wenbin dug his heels in and slowly hauled him up.
As he rose, Li Zhuiyuan looked down at the water.
The water snake was still there, but it no longer swam with its former vigor. Under the flashlight's glow, its submerged scales now shimmered with garish, chaotic colors.
A faint smile touched Li Zhuiyuan's lips. That's more like it. Cheap tricks like an illusory reflection in water were far too crude.
Emerging into the open air, Li Zhuiyuan drew a deep breath and wiped the sweat from his brow. A sticky, warm sensation brushed the back of his hand. He shone the light on it—red.
"Xiao Yuan, your nose is bleeding!" Tan Wenbin immediately began fumbling through his pockets for paper.
"Yeah." Li Zhuiyuan tilted his head back, took the rolled-up paper ball, and plugged his nostril before untying the rope from his waist.
"Xiao Yuan, are you pushing yourself too hard?"
"I'm fine. It's nothing." Li Zhuiyuan thought nothing of it; this was barely the beginning.
After carefully inspecting the ground to ensure no blood had dripped onto the courtyard stones, he replaced the bamboo hat over the well, restoring the scene to its original state.
Walking down from the courtyard, Li Zhuiyuan signaled Runsheng that it was time to move.
Reaching the riverbank, Li Zhuiyuan led the way with the luopan in hand, silently reciting the Liu Clan Qi-Gazing Formula while pointing out specific spots to Runsheng that needed digging or elevating.
By the time they reached the bridge, Li Zhuiyuan sank to the ground, exhausted. Cricking his neck upward, he asked, "Brother Runsheng, did you memorize everything I just pointed out?"
"Don't worry, Xiao Yuan, I've got every spot down."
"Get to work quickly, then."
"Right!"
Runsheng lowered Zhou Yong to the grass, picked up his full-sized Yellow River shovel, and set to work digging and piling earth.
"Brother Xiao Yuan, should I go help?"
"No need, Brother Binbin. Stay here and help me with this nosebleed. It won't seem to stop."
"Oh. Right away."
Runsheng possessed immense physical strength, and the shovel was custom-built for such earthwork. Having him work alone was faster and far less prone to errors.
Meanwhile, Tan Wenbin finally managed to stem the bleeding from Xiao Yuan's nose. He asked with genuine concern, "Xiao Yuan, are you really all right?"
"I'm fine."
"So... what exactly are we doing here?"
"Someone set a vile trap that nearly got us all killed. Right now, I'm arranging our counterstrike."
"Understood."
Behind them, Zhou Yong squirmed slightly on the ground.
Watching the bundle, Tan Wenbin felt a lingering tremor of dread. Even though he had sat at the same dinner table with the thing earlier, a dead-flipper still frightened him to his core.
"Brother Binbin, once we get back, I'll teach you a few methods for dealing with dead-flippers."
"Really? That'd be amazing!"
Then, in perfect unison, both chimed:
"Keep it a secret from your dad."
"Keep it a secret from my dad!"
With that, both of them chuckled.
Runsheng couldn't be in two places at once; having another reliable helper was indeed necessary. Earlier, their predicament had felt like the riddle of ferrying a wolf, a sheep, and a cabbage across a river—either he or Runsheng always had to stay behind to watch Zhou Yong and prevent unexpected disasters.
Li Zhuiyuan closed his eyes to rest. He felt profoundly drowsy.
Just as he drifted into deep sleep, someone shook his shoulder. "Xiao Yuan, Xiao Yuan."
Li Zhuiyuan opened his eyes, the whites thoroughly bloodshot.
Pained by the sight, Runsheng held his tongue from nagging and simply asked, "I finished everything according to your instructions. What's next?"
Li Zhuiyuan rose and carried the luopan under the bridge.
Runsheng stayed at his elbow the entire way down, terrified the boy might stumble and be swept away by the current.
Li Zhuiyuan pointed out the spots beneath the bridge that required modification. No major engineering was needed—just subtle adjustments to the existing masonry, which Runsheng could manage single-handedly with his tools.
Li Zhuiyuan also noted that while Brother Runsheng was hopeless at calculations, his memory was exceptional. Every instruction Li Zhuiyuan gave was remembered to the letter and executed flawlessly.
"Did you get all that, Brother Runsheng?"
"Clear as day."
"Good."
The moment Li Zhuiyuan acknowledged him, his body pitched forward.
Runsheng reacted with lightning speed, catching him in his arms and carrying him back up the bank. Calling out to Tan Wenbin to watch Xiao Yuan carefully, he took his tools and clambered onto the bridge from the flank.
Tan Wenbin had fresh water and paper ready, but this time, the semi-conscious Li Zhuiyuan was no longer bleeding from the nose. Instead, thin streams of crimson were weeping from the corners of his eyes.
"What..."
Tan Wenbin wiped the blood away with water, only for fresh droplets to well up immediately. You couldn't plug an eye the way you could a nostril; he had no idea how to stop it.
All he could do was rest Li Zhuiyuan's head in his lap, using both hands to massage the boy's temples in hopes of easing his strain.
"Xiao Yuan, Xiao Yuan..."
Li Zhuiyuan was roused once more. Opening his eyes, he asked, "Brother Runsheng, why are you covered in blood...?"
"Xiao Yuan, I'm fine. It's your eyes—they're bleeding."
"Oh." Only then did Li Zhuiyuan realize that his entire field of vision was washed in vivid scarlet.
Struggling to his feet, he crouched by the water's edge and scooped up river water to flush his eyes.
Though drops of crimson still dripped down, his vision cleared considerably.
Turning back to Runsheng, he saw the older youth caked in mud and lime, the skin on his hands and feet scraped raw and oozing blood in several places.
"Xiao Yuan, check my work."
"All right."
"Come, I'll carry you down."
Hoisting Li Zhuiyuan onto his back, Runsheng waded into the river. Li Zhuiyuan lifted his head—not to inspect the physical details of the masonry, but to read the shifting feng shui formation.
After wiping away the bloody haze from his eyes three times, he confirmed it: the feng shui layout had been successfully inverted.
"Brother Runsheng, you did brilliantly."
"What do you need me to do next?"
"Brother Runsheng, you can rest now."
"Then let's go back to Grandpa Shan's house and sleep. I don't think you can hold on much longer."
"No. There is one last, and most important, step left to finish."
"Let me do it."
Li Zhuiyuan fell silent.
Runsheng understood.
"Can you... hold up?"
"I have to, whether I can or not. We don't have much time. They could arrive as early as tomorrow night."
Feng shui formations fell into two categories: natural configurations and artificial layouts.
Natural configurations endured. Barring massive cataclysms that altered the landscape, only the inexorable passage of eons could erode them.
For this reason, the ancients invariably chose burial sites based on natural formations, drawing upon their enduring permanence.
An artificial layout, on the other hand, was like erecting a fish weir across a river. Without regular maintenance and repairs, the net would inevitably tear under the current, and the trapped fish would slip back into the flow.
The layout along this minor river was simple and fragile. When Li Zhuiyuan inspected it during the day, he had noticed minor misalignments creeping in; it was nearly time for the creators to come patch it up.
Even if they chose not to repair it yet, they would at least come to inspect the results of their "practice problem."
Thus, Zhou Yong had been thoroughly deceived. The eternity he believed he was maintaining had an expiration date. Had the perpetrators stopped maintaining the layout, he and his family would have rotted into the river or their home in short order.
In short, this could not wait. Everything had to be in place before dawn. Only then could he rest... and heal.
Returning to the bank, Li Zhuiyuan sat down before Zhou Yong.
He entered the yin path.
Runsheng and Tan Wenbin vanished from his perception, leaving only Zhou Yong before him. The dead man was exceedingly weak, resembling a fish stranded long out of water.
This was convenient, for Li Zhuiyuan was equally exhausted.
Their shared frequencies of weakness aligned with ease, and resonance was achieved almost instantly.
This gave Li Zhuiyuan a new realization: beating a dead-flipper to the brink of dissolution made it far easier to execute the steps in the black book to manipulate it.
Yet there was a paradox: if one could easily resolve a dead-flipper through other means, why bother going through the trouble of controlling it?
From what he could see, maintaining a dead-flipper was agonizingly difficult. One had to engineer a suitable environment, perform routine upkeep, and remain constantly on guard against betrayal.
The very state of a dead-flipper's existence guaranteed that it would rebel.
Earlier, the moment Li Zhuiyuan failed to directly destroy Zhou Yong, the mother and daughter had shown immediate signs of breaking loose.
The only exception thus far was Little Oriole.
Yet Little Oriole had gained her extended existence entirely through the influence of the "thing" in the fish pond. Li Zhuiyuan still had no idea where she had gone—perhaps dragged into the underworld alongside that entity.
In his black book, Wei Zhengdao himself described this technique as a potent countermeasure against dead-flippers, not a domestication manual.
One could never expect enduring loyalty from an entity locked in ceaseless torment.
Wei Zhengdao had seen this clearly. His companion, however, had not; while he had succeeded in rearing one, the price had been turning himself into a dead-flipper as well.
That was why Li Zhuiyuan considered that man a colossal fool. What beast tamer trains a beast only to lock himself in the cage?
"Come, Zhou Yong. Let me see your memories."
Li Zhuiyuan laid his hand upon Zhou Yong's brow.
Too exhausted to dwell on the grief and misery surrounding the illness of the man's wife and daughter, he skipped past those scenes, pausing only at key junctures.
The first was the voice outside the window while Zhou Yong wept over his deceased wife's bed.
Zhou Yong had rushed outside, but found no one. The unseen speaker had left behind only a letter.
The letter claimed it could help him keep his wife and daughter by his side.
After the daughter died, the voice returned. Zhou Yong dashed out again, found no one, and discovered another letter bearing the exact same message.
One night, after both had passed, Zhou Yong sat drinking alone in his darkened house. The voice called out once more. Still catching no glimpse of the visitor, he fetched the letter left outside and found detailed instructions within.
Li Zhuiyuan sighed inwardly. He had to admit, the perpetrators operated with pristine cleanliness.
They committed heinous atrocities without leaving a shred of a trail or background. This behavioral logic bore a striking resemblance to Grandma Liu and her peers.
Not that Liu Yumei was wicked, but rather that both factions held an immense dread of a certain cosmic taboo, desperate to avoid entanglement.
These people, for instance, orchestrated vile acts without ever directly dirtying their own hands.
Even if they were the ones who killed the mother and daughter, death had been a merciful release for two people bedridden with agony—akin to Western euthanasia.
In dying, the victims harbored no resentment toward the killers; they likely felt gratitude.
Of course, that was only because they had no inkling of what awaited them beyond the grave. Had Li Zhuiyuan not enlightened them, their hatred would have remained directed entirely at Zhou Yong.
Their hands were clean to an unnatural degree.
Was this the reverence born of that taboo?
This explained why the black cat had been so stunned when Li Zhuiyuan proposed his scheme: *Can people of the righteous path truly do such things?*
Evidently, such a rule of the righteous path truly did exist.
Yet the knowledge did not give Li Zhuiyuan the slightest urge to back down.
To him, the worst that could happen once this was done was that he would go home and hug his Great-Grandpa a little tighter.
And Zhou Yong was truly a piece of work. On the strength of three anonymous letters, he had poured out his entire life savings to build a bridge and arrange this occult trap.
Yet thinking back to the portrait of Jesus hanging in his house, it made sense. The man was intrinsically superstitious, the sort of gullible fool ripe for swindling.
He would rather reduce his household to penury just to hand his money to charlatans, all the while fancying himself wise and enlightened, convinced that he alone was sober while the world was drunk.
Steeling his resolve, Li Zhuiyuan spoke into Zhou Yong's consciousness:
"Now, I speak, you watch. I will show you... the truth."
The third step of Wei Zhengdao's black book: Deceive!
Zhou Yong's perspective wound backward, returning to the moment before he walked home from watching card games to find his wife dead. Just as he approached his courtyard, voices drifted from behind the house:
"All right, I've finished off his wife."
"Good. Her clinging to life was only getting in the way."
"When he comes back and sees her, grief will break him. It'll make our next phase so much easier."
"Is the letter ready?"
"Ready. But aren't we leaving the ritual instructions yet?"
"Not yet. His daughter isn't dead yet."
Li Zhuiyuan marshaled his fraying concentration, advancing the memory to the moment before Zhou Yong discovered his daughter's death.
The same setting, the same overheard conversation—merely a few altered words.
It wasn't that Li Zhuiyuan didn't want to craft a more elaborate fabrication; he was simply running on empty.
He understood well that violently altering memories like this would scramble the subject's cognitive continuity.
Attempting this on any normal dead-flipper would be doomed to failure; the corpse would daze for a moment and then brush the false memory aside like a forgotten dream.
Yet Li Zhuiyuan had faith in Zhou Yong—because the man was extraordinarily gullible.
Moreover, the fabrication was an adaptation rooted in the underlying facts, aligning with the internal logic of his trauma.
Advancing further, the scene shifted to Zhou Yong drinking alone in the house after both had perished.
Outside, the voices spoke again:
"All right, we've killed his wife and his kid. Time for the next phase."
"He really is an idiot. I've dropped the letter here. He'll grasp at it like a lifeline and do exactly as we instructed."
"Drop it, then. He's coming out."
"Yeah."
Li Zhuiyuan had intended to flesh out that final exchange in richer detail, but his endurance gave out. The state of walking the yin path could no longer be sustained, and the vision fractured and shattered.
Still, it ought to be enough.
Li Zhuiyuan let go of every ounce of strength and closed his eyes.
When he tried to open them again, he found he couldn't; his eyelids felt glued shut.
He knew his foray into the yin path was over, for the voices of Runsheng and Tan Wenbin reached his ears.
"Runsheng, the blood won't stop! This is terrifying!"
"Keep wiping. I'll get more fresh water!"
"Brother Binbin."
"Xiao Yuan! You're awake! Don't panic, we're trying to stop the bleeding!"
"Brother Binbin, look at Zhou Yong. Tell me what he's doing."
"He's... he's shaking his head violently, like he's having a seizure! But don't worry, he can't break out of the basket and the net."
"Keep your eyes on him. Tell me what changes. I can't see right now."
Runsheng hurried back. Soon, Li Zhuiyuan felt a soothing coolness washing over his eyes.
He could open his lids now, but before him lay nothing but pitch darkness.
"Xiao Yuan, your eyes look completely hollow. Can you see how many fingers I'm holding up?"
Li Zhuiyuan shook his head.
In his current state, even Liu Jinxia with her cataracts could boast of having sharper eyes than him.
He was, for all practical purposes, blind.
"Xiao Yuan, will your eyes be all right?"
"Brother Xiao Yuan, don't scare me!"
"Don't worry. I just overextended myself. I can't see right now, but I'm not permanently blind. Once I rest and recuperate, it will gradually return."
A similar phenomenon was documented in the *Zhengdao Fumo Lu*: *"The eyes lost their sight, returning only after a xunyue; only then did he learn restraint."*
Wei Zhengdao had suffered identical overexertion in his past, and he had ultimately recovered.
The term *xunyue* was somewhat ambiguous—it could mean a month, ten months, or a period between ten days and a full month.
Li Zhuiyuan figured the third interpretation was most likely. Had Wei Zhengdao truly gone blind for ten whole months, his tone when recording the incident would have been far more terrified and solemn—not "only then did he learn restraint," but "shaken to the core" or "as though granted a second life."
"Xiao Yuan, the mucus in Zhou Yong's eyes has cleared! His eyes have turned bright red again—he looks furious!"
"Is he staring at the three of us?"
"No, he isn't. He isn't looking at us at all."
"Good. It worked."
The hatred had been redirected.
"Brother Runsheng, take off the net and the basket. Put Zhou Yong back into the water."
"Right!"
Though the request defied all common sense, Runsheng never questioned why.
Carrying Zhou Yong to the riverbank, he stripped away the net and basket. Looking at the man thrashing on the mud like a dying fish, Runsheng raised his foot and kicked him straight into the river.
The moment he hit the water, the half-dead Zhou Yong surged with explosive vigor, diving deep beneath the surface with a powerful flick.
"Xiao Yuan, let's get you to a hospital," Tan Wenbin urged.
"Brother Binbin, bear with the hardship a little longer and pedal the tricycle to take me home.
"Brother Runsheng, stay here and look after Grandpa Shan and my Great-Grandpa.
"Starting tomorrow, visit the courtyard in front of Zhou Yong's house once in the morning and once in the evening. If you don't see the mother and daughter sitting there waving at you, come search along this stretch of river. You should be able to fish up some dead fish."
"Xiao Yuan, anything else I should keep in mind?"
"Remember to settle the payment again with the village chief."
"Got it," Runsheng agreed, turning toward Tan Wenbin. "Can you still pedal?"
"No problem."
Runsheng asked with earnest concern, "You look half-dead from exhaustion. Want me to slap you across the face to wake you up?"
"No, no need! I'll slap myself while riding!"
"Be careful on the road. Don't let anything happen to Xiao Yuan."
"Of course, rest easy."
Runsheng gathered the gear and carried Li Zhuiyuan back to the house on his back.
Inside, the snores of the two drunken old men shook the rafters.
He had resolved another problem for Great-Grandpa.
Not that the boy minded deflecting these calamities on the old man's behalf. Staying by Great-Grandpa's side allowed him to act far more freely; Great-Grandpa's fundamental philosophy had never aligned with the so-called righteous path to begin with.
Of course, it was also possible that the current "righteous path" was false and distorted, and that Great-Grandpa's way of doing things was the true defense of righteousness.
Looked at from another angle, had he not accompanied him, Great-Grandpa might never have stumbled into this mess in the first place.
After all, without him, the old man couldn't have found Zhou Yong's house with that compass of his if his life depended on it.
The first light of dawn broke across the horizon.
Having pushed past the point of sheer exhaustion, sitting on the tricycle and feeling the cool morning breeze, Li Zhuiyuan found his drowsiness gone.
Though his vision was engulfed in pitch black, his mood was remarkably bright. He even began humming a children's tune: *"Let Us Sway Twin Oars."*
Every past success in his life had come far too easily; corpse-retrieval was the very first subject where he had experienced the plight of an underachieving student.
Here he was, studying diligently and striving for modest improvement, yet someone had dared to frame him while blatantly cheating on the exam themselves!
Who gave them the right?
Then he would simply destroy them.
Tan Wenbin slapped his own cheeks rhythmically as he pedaled, but hearing the singing behind him, he couldn't help smiling.
From the moment they first met, the boy sitting in the cart had exuded a terrifying maturity far beyond his years. Half the time, Tan Wenbin felt even his own father was subtly dominated in the boy's presence.
Calling him "Brother" had never been an attempt at flattery; the kid was simply smarter and sharper than him.
Now, hearing the boy sing, he felt genuinely happy for him. Now that actually sounded like a kid.
"In a good mood, Xiao Yuan?"
"Yeah. Couldn't be happier."
***
The tricycle rolled safely into the courtyard of their home, Tan Wenbin's face swollen from self-inflicted slaps.
The moment he arrived, he engaged the brake in a daze, collapsed onto the dirt, and fell dead asleep.
Over the past twenty-four hours, he had been constantly on the run, enduring relentless terrors on top of having his vitality siphoned by a dead-flipper. That he had held out until now was nothing short of a miracle for an ordinary mortal.
Liu Yumei and Auntie Liu were having breakfast. Seeing them arrive, both dropped their chopsticks and rushed outside.
Liu Yumei and Liu Ting took Li Zhuiyuan's left and right hands respectively, then exchanged a solemn glance.
Auntie Liu released his hand, dragged Tan Wenbin over to the makeshift bed by the first-floor dining table, and went into the back room to fetch herbs.
Liu Yumei stared at Li Zhuiyuan with a heavy face, letting out a soft sigh.
Li Zhuiyuan appreciated this quiet understanding—no superfluous questions or fretful fussing; everyone understood the situation at a glance.
With his vision gone, they didn't even need to maintain their facial expressions around him.
The world had suddenly grown far simpler.
Until a soft, warm pair of hands gently clasped his.
The monochrome world instantly regained its warmth and color.
"Ah Li, come here. I want to tell you a secret."
Ah Li drew close, leaning against him.
Li Zhuiyuan felt his lips brush against the girl's hair as she pressed her ear to his mouth.
"Let me tell you... a group of people tried to scheme against me. I was furious. I've set my trap, and it's definitely going to finish them off."
Naturally, Liu Yumei heard the whispered words.
She had expected her granddaughter to be upset with the boy for reducing himself to such a state, yet the moment the boy finished speaking, two distinct dimples bloomed across the girl's cheeks.
"Ah Li, I can't see right now. Take me to my room."
Li Zhuiyuan felt the girl take one of his hands in hers while supporting his arm with the other.
In the past, it had always been him leading her by the hand.
They entered the house, climbed the stairs step by step, and returned to his room, where he sat down on the edge of the bed.
Li Zhuiyuan lay down and reached out for the quilt, but his hand caught only empty air.
Moments later, the quilt was gently spread over his belly, tucked in the precise manner he was accustomed to.
The girl stepped away; Li Zhuiyuan heard the door click shut.
Before long, the door opened again. She returned, and Li Zhuiyuan felt a damp towel gently wiping his face.
Wipe a little, fold the cloth, and wipe again—exactly the way he used to clean her face.
It turned out she had been watching and learning all along.
The door opened once more, accompanied by the footsteps of an adult.
"Xiao Yuan, lie still. Auntie is going to apply the medicine."
"Thank you, Auntie Liu."
A herbal paste was applied over his eyes, held in place by a strip of cloth bound around the back of his head.
A soothing coolness rippled across his eye sockets, dragging deep exhaustion in its wake.
Fighting off the heavy sleep pulling at his consciousness, Li Zhuiyuan asked, "Auntie Liu, how long will it take for my eyes to heal?"
"A xunyue."
Li Zhuiyuan: "..."
Auntie Liu let out a chuckle. "Hehe. A month. It'll give you a chance to stay out of trouble for once."
A smile spread across Li Zhuiyuan's face as well.
"You little rascal, how can you still smile?"
"A month is just in time for the end of summer vacation. Won't interfere with the start of school."
***
During the day, Li Sanjiang woke up. Learning that Xiao Yuan and Zhuangzhuang had already headed back, he didn't think much of it. Grabbing his gear, he led Runsheng on several more loops along the riverbank.
Runsheng had intended to simply kill time with Li Sanjiang and go through the motions.
Then he saw Li Sanjiang pull out that compass of his.
The needle pointed due south, and Runsheng followed him all the way to the foot of the bridge.
Under the bridge, Li Sanjiang unfastened his trousers to take a leak.
When relieving themselves, men rarely liked looking down; instead, they swept their gaze across their surroundings with grand, sweeping detachment.
His eyes caught the stone stele beneath the bridge, and he sighed with admiration.
"Runsheng Hou, this fellow named Zhou Yong... is he from your village?"
"Yes, Great-Uncle."
"Tsk, tsk. Must be loaded, paying to build an entire bridge all on his own."
"Uh... I don't know the villagers very well."
"From your own village and you don't know them?"
"Great-Uncle, you know the trade my granddad and I are in. We rarely mingle with the villagers on ordinary days."
"That doesn't sound right. Are you folks on bad terms with the village? Who wouldn't love a bumpkin who loses money every time he plays cards?"
"Most of the time, my granddad doesn't even have pocket money to gamble with."
"Oh, fair point."
Runsheng exhaled in relief, feeling he had wrung out every drop of wit he possessed just to deflect the subject.
What happened next, however, left Runsheng completely dumbstruck.
Li Sanjiang, holding the compass, had walked south to the bridge. Ahead lay a bend in the river with no remaining path, so he turned around and followed the exact reverse direction of the needle, heading north.
And Zhou Yong's house sat precisely at the northern corner of the village.
Runsheng followed Li Sanjiang all the way to Zhou Yong's courtyard, his expression as though he had seen a ghost.
His own grandfather had always insisted Great-Uncle Sanjiang was utterly useless. That was useless?
Last night, Xiao Yuan had exerted immense effort to track down Zhou Yong's house, yet Great-Uncle Sanjiang had found it in the time it took to take a piss!
"Hahaha! Hello there!"
Li Sanjiang raised a hand, waving cheerfully at the mother and daughter seated on the courtyard.
Because Runsheng, a native of the village, was standing beside him, the phantom pair was visible to his eyes.
"Great-Uncle, let's not go any further." Runsheng resolved that if Li Sanjiang took another step, he would haul the old man away over his shoulder if necessary.
"Not going, not going. It's just the womenfolk at home. What's the point of heading over? Unbecoming."
With only female relatives around, an old fellow like him had no business getting close.
To Runsheng's ears, however, the remark carried an entirely different meaning: Great-Uncle Sanjiang could tell with a single glance that Zhou Yong wasn't home?!
They wandered until afternoon before Li Sanjiang returned to Grandpa Shan's house.
The village chief was waiting in the yard to ask about their progress. Li Sanjiang patted his chest confidently, telling him not to fret—they would find the corpse soon.
After the chief departed, there was still plenty of strong liquor left over from the night before, and the chief had sent over some braised dishes in advance.
The two old men sat down and resumed drinking.
As the cups clinked, their spirits soared once again.
Only as dusk fell did Li Sanjiang remember what he had come here for. He stood up, declaring that he would take another turn while there was still daylight.
Grandpa Shan pulled him back down, insisting he stay and keep drinking, and ordered Runsheng to go out for another round instead.
Runsheng acknowledged the order, grabbed his tools, and hurried out the door. Xiao Yuan had instructed him to check the house once in the morning and once in the evening.
He jogged up to Zhou Yong's courtyard.
This time,
the mother and daughter were nowhere to be seen.
***
Night fell.
A grown man carrying a young boy on his shoulders walked along the riverbank.
To any casual observer, they looked like a father and son out for an evening stroll.
Yet the words passing between them were shocking, for the grown man addressed the boy on his shoulders as... "Dad."
"Dad, that Blind Liu sent someone to return our money. What should we do?"
"We'll go back another day and double the offer. I refuse to believe she won't bite."
"All right. Is that household truly that important?"
"Crucial. That whole family has exceptionally hard fates, especially that little granddaughter, Cuicui."
"Dad, do you have your eye on her?"
The dwarf slapped the larger man's head with force, eliciting a yelp of pain.
"Are you an idiot? Marrying someone with a fate that hard into the family—are you wishing for your old man to die early?"
"Dad, if you don't mean that, why are you scheming after them?"
"Why? For utility! If we can forge an entanglement with their family, they can bear the brunt of certain backlashes for us down the road. Their fates are hard enough to shoulder calamities. Three in one household—when one dies from the burden, we swap in the next. What could be better?"
"Then why don't we just take them by force...?"
"Force, my ass! Have you forgotten what your dad taught you? In our line of work, the greatest taboo is triggering death-retribution directly. Even if we're working our own angles, we have to mind our methods and clean up our tracks.
"Otherwise, who knows when Heaven will drop a tribulation on our heads, and we won't even know how we died.
"The two of us—one with dwarfism, the other with gigantism—already have it hard enough in life. Not only does Heaven look down on us, but the world treats us like freaks. That's why we have to be doubly cautious, understand?"
"Understood, Dad."
"Right. The next time we go to Blind Liu's place, remember to remind me to ask about that young boy."
"Dad, you're still hung up on that kid? He's just a child."
"I keep feeling that boy saw right through me."
"How could that be? Dad, aren't you overthinking it? Out in public, everyone assumes you're my son."
"I can't be wrong. That boy saw through me. It was as if he peered right into my inner thoughts with a single glance. You were inside at the time, so you didn't see it—the look in his eyes was terrifying."
"Could that boy have the same condition as you, Dad?"
"I don't know. That's why we need to dig deeper next time we go to Siyuan Village. Best if we can check out his house. Oh, right—that quiet woman beside the boy, she was truly stunning. Looked like someone straight off a television screen."
"I saw her too. Her fate isn't hard, is it?"
"Hard to tell. Probably not."
"Then... could she be my wife in the future?"
"Heh. You're the son. Where are your manners? How could it ever be your turn first?"
"Dad, that's no way for a father to talk."
"All right, quit your blabbering. We're here. Get in the water and call that idiot out. Let's see how your first solo handiwork turned out, so your dad can inspect your progress."
"Don't worry, Dad. No problem at all."
Carrying the dwarf on his shoulders, the giant waded into the river. He was just about to take out the tools to summon the corpse when bubbles suddenly welled up before them.
A pale back broke the surface, slowly rolling over until Zhou Yong's form was revealed.
"Look, Dad! See how smart the dead-flipper I raised is? Didn't even need a summons; came right up on his own!"
"Not bad at all, son. Like I said, in this trade, I've never seen anyone more gifted than you."
"Naturally!"
*"ROAR—!"*
Without warning, the milky film in Zhou Yong's eyes melted away, replaced by violent crimson. He lunged directly at the giant!
"Dad!" the giant shrieked.
The dwarf perched on his shoulders drew a paper talisman and slapped it onto Zhou Yong's forehead in a practiced motion. Zhou Yong instantly froze.
"Dad, that was terrifying! What happened just now?"
"Dead-flippers losing control happens all the time. Don't f—"
At the head of the bridge, a baleful wind whipped up. The malevolent qi within the river channel boiled over in an instant.
The talisman on Zhou Yong's forehead burst into flames!
*"ROAR—!"*
Zhou Yong's hands plunged forward, punching clean through the giant's chest, before his jaws clamped onto the man's throat.
*Crack! Crunch! Snap!*
The sickening sounds of splintering bone rang out in rapid, brittle succession.
The giant was tackled backward, collapsing heavily into the river.
"How is this happening?! How can this be?! No, this is impossible!"
The dwarf flailed in the water, unable to comprehend the sight before him. How had things unraveled like this?
Blood and ragged chunks of flesh surfaced in the churned water as Zhou Yong lunged toward the dwarf.
"You bastard! You deserve to die! Give me back my son!"
The dwarf's face twisted with rage, stripping away any semblance of a child.
A barbed cord appeared in his hands. Darting through the water with the agility of a fish, he slipped behind Zhou Yong, looped the cord around his neck, and yanked it taut with ferocious strength.
*"Aaaagh—!"*
Zhou Yong let out a shrill howl, the flesh of his neck melting rapidly beneath the cord.
Yet the moment Zhou Yong had surfaced and unleashed his initial roar, the bamboo hat covering the courtyard well had slid aside.
Beneath the dark water, the multicolored serpent opened its maw in a soundless hiss toward the opening before its body ruptured apart, dissolving into foul slime.
*Crash!*
*Bang!*
The windows of the bedroom and kitchen blew outward, and two figures—one tall, one small—leaped forth, hurtling toward the river at blinding speed.
Runsheng, who was jogging toward the riverbank, suddenly caught sight of two silhouettes streaking past him. He recognized them, yet could not fathom why their feet were gliding over the earth like two slithering serpents.
Plunging into the river together, they left behind only twin ripples slicing through the current.
"Die! You killed my son! That was my son—!"
The cord in the dwarf's hands had nearly severed Zhou Yong's neck halfway through. The dead-flipper's aura withered at terrifying speed, his baleful qi dispersing.
A clashing baleful feng shui formation was ephemeral by nature.
Yet just then, Zhou Yong's arms shot forward, locking around both of the dwarf's ankles.
The dwarf didn't care; he knew the dead-flipper was on the verge of being decapitated.
Then he glanced sideways—something was moving beneath the water.
Two figures burst from the depths, seizing the dwarf from left and right, and sank their teeth into his flesh in a frenzy of tearing bites.
Their eyes resembled the slit pupils of serpents. With every bite they tore away, the blood leaking from the dwarf's wounds ran not red, but black.
*"Aaaagh—!"*
The dwarf shrieked in agony. He desperately tried to shake them off, but with three dead-flippers swarming him at point-blank range, even his extraordinary aquatic agility found no room to maneuver.
In the end, his face turned a venomous, bruised cyan. Drained of all life, he sank slowly into the river's depths alongside the three corpses.
After Li Zhuiyuan altered his memories, Zhou Yong's obsession had shifted from keeping his wife and daughter by his side to exacting vengeance for his shattered family.
With the enemy dead, his vengeance was complete, and his lingering resentment began to dissolve.
Even had an accident occurred, there was a second safeguard: Li Zhuiyuan had rearranged the river's feng shui into a baleful collision formation, briefly igniting the malevolent qi of the entire area into a boiling frenzy—which naturally consumed the dead-flippers as well.
In short, Zhou Yong was entirely eradicated.
With his end, the chang ghost wife and daughter who existed solely because of him were finally granted release.
After sinking into the depths entwined together, the bodies drifted apart and slowly floated back to the surface—save for the mother and daughter, who remained locked in an embrace.
When Runsheng arrived at the riverbank, the scene before him made his heart skip a beat. Floating across the water were several dead bodies.
"Xiao Yuan, you were right... fish, so many dead fish!"
Chapter 47