Dwelling Spirit

A true hero! Lu Chunying poked her head out once more and stared at Li Banfeng for a long while, thinking the young man looked exceptionally noble and imposing. "Benefactor, take care of yourself, ya!" Xiao Yeci turned around, held Lu Chunying close, and hurried out of the backyard toward the main gate. Taking on a dwelling spirit inside a Dwelling Cultivator's house? This man had truly gone mad, ya! Xiao Yeci led her daughter Lu Chunying out of the backyard. When they reached the gate of the front courtyard, Xiao Yeci looked back and could not help sighing. Lu Chunying mocked her with a sneer, "Stop staring. You don't have the looks for it—a great hero like him would never fancy you!" Xiao Yeci frowned. "Don't talk nonsense, ya! Showing no respect for your elders!" Lu Chunying scoffed, "Respect? You really think you're my mother? Once we meet the Lu family, I'm going to tell them the whole truth!" Xiao Yeci gritted her teeth. "Don't you dare, ya! If you dare say a word, we'll starve together, sleep on the streets together, and get sold to a brothel together, ya! Then we'll see who's crying!" Lu Chunying scowled. "If you want to pretend to be my mother, drop that verbal tic of yours. My mother never spoke with all those 'ya's." "What verbal tic, ya? I'm telling you, don't talk rubbish, ya!" As they bickered, the two stepped out of the compound and walked into a grove of trees. Lu Chunying tugged lightly at Xiao Yeci's sleeve and whispered, "I remember when we arrived, this was a village. How did it turn into woods?!" *Rustle, rustle—whoosh!* A gust of sinister wind blew past, setting the branches and leaves swaying and rattling with continuous noise. Xiao Yeci grew tense as well. Holding Lu Chunying close, she said, "Something's not right, ya. Let's head back inside the house first!" As soon as the mother and daughter turned around, the courtyard compound had vanished. All around them stretched a boundless forest. "Where are we?" Lu Chunying tightened her grip on Xiao Yeci's arm. Xiao Yeci surveyed their surroundings and said with steady composure, "This must be the dwelling spirit's handiwork. We're probably still inside the house and can't get out for now, ya." "Then what do we do?" Lu Chunying held on even tighter. "Don't worry. I'll reason with it first. No matter where it came from, as long as I can make it see reason, it ought to let us go, ya!" Xiao Yeci looked determined. Standing behind her, Lu Chunying felt most of her fear ebb away. Xiao Yeci began to reason with the dwelling spirit: "Friend, I do not know where you hail from, but the master of this house is dead. You should consider where you ought to go as well. "The mistress of this house committed countless heinous deeds, and you were her accomplice. If the magistrate captures you and delivers you to the Underworld, you will suffer punishment too, ya! "I have read of it in books—I have seen the verdicts of the Court for Punishing Evil, and I have read of every kind of torture device in the Netherworld. I know all the torments those ghosts endure. "Before, you were coerced by her, and your actions were beyond your control. But now she is dead, so why do you still commit such wicked acts? What is it for? "Friend, let the two of us go. It will cleanse a share of your sins and earn you a share of merit. Why not do it, ya!" *Whoosh—* The sinister wind gradually subsided, and the branches and leaves in the forest ceased their violent thrashing. Xiao Yeci's persuasion seemed to have worked. The journey had indeed been fraught with peril. Between Lu Chunying and this woman who was not truly her mother, there had been resentment, bickering, and plenty of distance. Yet whenever danger loomed, Xiao Yeci never hesitated to step in front of Lu Chunying. Lu Chunying believed she was the most reliable person in the world. "Come, follow Mother!" Relying on her intuition, Xiao Yeci strode straight ahead, with Lu Chunying following close at her side. Two steps in, a willow switch slashed across both Xiao Yeci's and Lu Chunying's faces with lightning speed—*smack!* Xiao Yeci clutched her face, gritting her teeth to hold back the tears. Lu Chunying was young; she could not hold back, and tears spilled down her cheeks. Xiao Yeci pulled out a handkerchief, wiped the bloody welt on Lu Chunying's face, and murmured tenderly, "Don't cry, little one. I didn't get the direction right just now. We should head left. Come! Stay close to Mother!" Each bearing a bloody welt across their faces, they turned left through the woods against the night wind. After walking a dozen paces, another willow switch lashed out, striking both of them across the face once more. Xiao Yeci's tears flowed, and Lu Chunying burst into loud sobs. Now they had not one bloody welt on their faces, but two. The two welts crossed into an X. "Mother might have made a mistake. Let's head right instead. Come! Stay close to Mother!" Xiao Yeci firmly reached for Lu Chunying's hand. "Mom, you'd better go ahead first. I'll just follow behind you." Lu Chunying shook off Xiao Yeci's hand. She took back her earlier thought. Xiao Yeci was not reliable at all. *** Li Banfeng stepped into the old woman's room, scrutinizing every piece of furniture inside. A bed, a table, two chairs, and a wardrobe. The furnishings were very simple. Li Banfeng swept his gaze across each object in turn, trying to guess which one might be the dwelling spirit. There was an old mantel clock on the table. It completely lacked any spiritual aura; at a glance, it clearly wasn't the dwelling spirit. Next to the clock was a teapot. It looked quite spirited—could this be it? Beside the teapot sat a sewing box. The balls of thread were arranged neatly, and the needles were stuck into them with equal precision. It looked very much like it had the temperament of a dwelling spirit. Next to the sewing box was a rolling pin. The flour on it was coated very evenly, also showing traces of spirituality! Which one was the dwelling spirit? Li Banfeng felt torn. *I'm a Dwelling Cultivator. There must be some mutual resonance between me and a dwelling spirit.* *Clang!* The old mantel clock chimed once. Li Banfeng glanced at the clock face. It was nine-thirty. This traditional kind of old clock would strike once on the half-hour, and on the full hour it would chime the corresponding count. For instance, at nine o'clock, it would chime nine times. At nine-thirty, it would only strike once: *clang!* That single chime had interrupted Li Banfeng's train of thought while searching for the dwelling spirit, which displeased him greatly. He glared at the old clock, then continued scanning the other items in the room. Finally, his gaze settled on a feather duster. He felt this duster was the most spiritual of all. First, its colors were quite vibrant; second, the feathers were sleek and supple. Li Banfeng picked up the feather duster, preparing to use his Dwelling Cultivator talent to initiate a deep communion. Suddenly, the old clock went *clang, clang, clang...* striking ten times in rapid succession. The volume was immense, completely seizing Li Banfeng's attention. Ten strikes? Li Banfeng looked at the dial. The hour and minute hands pointed to ten o'clock. Just a moment ago it had been nine-thirty, and in the blink of an eye it was ten? Could it be... This old clock was broken? Just now, Li Banfeng had been thinking that the Portable Abode lacked a timepiece, wondering if he should move this old clock over. From the look of things, this clock was useless. Li Banfeng communicated with the feather duster for a while, only to find that it gave no response whatsoever. Beside the duster sat a tin mooncake box. Its paint was severely chipped, showing it had considerable age, yet it was completely dustless and impeccably clean. Dwelling spirits loved cleanliness—could it be inside this box? Li Banfeng pulled open the lid with some effort and discovered only a stack of old newspapers inside. They were yellowed with age, looking as though they might crumble at any moment. A dwelling spirit couldn't possibly reside in newspapers, could it? Li Banfeng picked up a sheet. Before he could even unfold it, he genuinely felt a resonance this time. He felt the words on the newspaper touching him. The characters, tiny as fly heads, seemed to turn into little worms trying to bore into his fingertips. It was really inside the newspaper? *Tick-tock! Tick-tock!* The ticking of the pendulum grew increasingly clear, each strike tugging at the heartstrings. Li Banfeng set down the newspaper and looked at the golden pendulum. Reflecting the candlelight, faint images began to appear on its surface. At first the imagery was blurry, but after a short while, it grew distinct. It was as though Li Banfeng were watching an old, sepia-toned film on the pendulum. A beautiful woman in a qipao sat before a mirror, painting her eyebrows. A man appeared behind her, took the eyebrow pencil from her hand, and began tracing her brows with gentle, meticulous strokes. After her brows, he painted her lips. After her lips, he bit them. After biting her lips, he found other places to bite. Facing each other, they bit and held each other for a long while before the man circled behind her. The pendulum swung back and forth, its ticking growing crisp and resounding. The man had been gripping the woman's shoulders, but amidst the motion, his left arm wrapped around her neck, and his right hand locked around his left arm. His face pressed against hers, and he used his left shoulder to force the back of her head forward. A rear naked choke! This was no playful chokehold. This was a vicious, gouging rear naked choke! While Li Banfeng was still analyzing the technical difficulty of the move, the woman in the image stopped moving. She had been strangled to death. The man pulled out, dressed, and vanished swiftly from the scene. The woman's corpse remained in the room. The picture seemed still, yet light and shadow shifted. Dawn turned to dusk, and day gave way to night. The woman's body gradually decayed, crawling with maggots. Until one day, her corpse was discovered and removed from the center of the frame. Many people came and went, their origins unknown. They stripped the room of everything in sight, including piles of jewelry and stacks of banknotes. Only when the scene stood entirely empty did the story seem to reach its end. Yet what did this story signify? Why was this old clock showing him this tale? As he pondered, Li Banfeng realized the story was not over! A woman appeared in the empty room—the woman who had died before. She was dressing her hair and makeup, doing so with a smile. The woman who had been choked to death in this house had reappeared. She was applying her makeup. There was no mirror left in the room; she was applying her makeup facing Li Banfeng. Her seductive smile gave him a curious sense of warmth. This must be the dwelling spirit, right? The woman suddenly vanished. A man appeared within the frame. Though his clothes were different, Li Banfeng still recognized him—he was the murderer who had slain the woman. He seemed to be searching for something, feeling carefully across the floorboards until he found a hidden compartment. From it, he pulled out a knife. Li Banfeng recognized that knife. It was the short knife the old woman had treasured so dearly, now tucked into his own waistband. The man was ecstatic; this knife was precisely what he had been looking for. He ran a finger gently along the blade, but unexpectedly, the hilt shook violently and tore free from his grasp. The airborne short knife hovered right before the man. Terrified, the man propped himself up with his hands and scrambled backward. He crawled far too slowly. The short knife lunged at the man, slitting his throat. Blood sprayed outward. Clutching his throat, the man struggled desperately. His dying thrashing looked remarkably like the woman's final moments. The woman's figure slowly materialized in the frame once more. With a soft, alluring smile, she resumed dressing her hair. She paid no heed to the man struggling on the floor. Her eyes were fixed on Li Banfeng, carrying a sweet, chilling glint. *If you're doing your makeup, just do your makeup. Why do you keep staring at me?* *Debts have their debtors, and grievances their source. It wasn't me who killed you!* Li Banfeng wanted to look away, but then he saw the woman put down her comb, pick up an object that resembled a key, and reach toward him. *What is she doing? Making a move?* *If this woman is the dwelling spirit, do I have to defeat her to subdue her?* Li Banfeng went on high alert, only to see the woman open a glass pane, then slowly turn the key. Li Banfeng watched closely for a good while before realizing that was not a key in the usual sense—it was a winding key for the mantel clock. The woman hadn't been applying her makeup facing Li Banfeng; she had been applying it facing the clock. Her room hadn't been completely cleared out after all. One thing had remained: this old mantel clock. Li Banfeng wasn't watching this film from an audience's perspective. He had been seeing everything through the eyes of the clock. Having drawn her brows and applied her rouge, the woman raised her head, parted her vermilion lips, and asked softly: "Am I pretty?" For the first time, Li Banfeng heard the woman's voice. Was she asking the clock, or asking him? Her eyes were filled with fervent longing. Li Banfeng considered for a moment, then answered, "Pretty." A smile graced the woman's face; she was very pleased with this answer. Then she posed another question: "Do you know my name?" Li Banfeng pondered for a second, then looked down at the tin mooncake box. He drew an old newspaper from the box. On the second page of this newspaper was a report, and every character of the headline was trembling incessantly. The headline read: *Celebrated Beauty Luo Yuni Brutally Murdered in Secret Residence.* The woman asked once more, "Do you know my name?" Li Banfeng nodded. "I think I do." "Look at me. Keep looking at me. Speak my name, and I am yours." The woman's smile turned sweeter still.