Chapter 13: A Guilty Conscience

The letter was gone.

Thinking back carefully, I was certain that after reading it, I had placed it under the plate. I searched through all the plates on the altar table, but still couldn’t find the letter. I went to ask my mother if she had taken it; she shook her head, saying she didn’t even know it was hidden beneath a plate.

I hadn’t taken it, nor had my mother. Could a letter simply vanish into thin air?

After repeatedly recalling the events, I was certain I had left the letter under the plate. Its disappearance could only mean someone had taken it.

To take the letter, one would have to enter the mourning hall. Villagers who came to pay respects never went inside; thinking of the suspicious Xu Bu-Huo, I asked my mother if he had entered the hall. She said he had, several times yesterday.

I was certain now—Xu Bu-Huo had taken the letter. He feared I might compare it to my notes and discover it wasn’t written by my grandmother, so he seized the opportunity to remove it. As for how he knew it was hidden under a plate, I understood that for someone with his mysterious abilities, finding a letter would be trivial.

I reminded myself that Xu Bu-Huo was a dangerous man; only by keeping calm could my mother and I avoid harm.

Dusk was fast approaching when Xu Bu-Huo returned, carrying a large bag, looking as if he had been traveling nonstop. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his back was soaked.

My mother hurried to greet him, but I felt a strong aversion, staring at him and thinking, You’re just a cat mourning a mouse, feigning compassion.

“Ziwu, is something the matter?” Xu Bu-Huo suddenly looked up at me.

“Ah, no,” I replied, stammering, quickly getting up and heading to the kitchen to avoid him.

My heart felt as though it would leap out of my throat.

After dinner, Xu Bu-Huo handed me a piece of pitch-black jade, saying, “Wear it. This will protect your soul from being snatched.”

Had I not known his true intentions, I would have put the jade on immediately. Now, understanding his actions were all a facade, I hesitated instinctively, suspecting he had tampered with the jade and that it might subtly affect me.

“What’s wrong? Do you want your soul to keep being taken?” Xu Bu-Huo looked at me with suspicion, as if wondering why I wouldn’t wear the jade. Nervously, not wanting to arouse his suspicion, I smiled and put it on.

Then, Xu Bu-Huo took seven brass lamps from his bag, saying that if the crone came again tonight, he would trap her and eliminate this threat once and for all. As he arranged everything, I followed closely, silently memorizing each step.

He buried red ropes all around the yard. I asked their purpose; he explained they were “yang ropes,” highly effective against living corpses, which would not dare cross them.

Next, he had me fetch a rooster and set up a ritual array on the ground, covering it with a bedsheet once it was complete.

On the wall, he hung a string of small but loud brass bells.

Lastly, Xu Bu-Huo told me to find a black dog. Seizing the chance, I went to Grandpa Qin’s house.

“This jade is corpse jade,” he said.

Hearing that, I hurriedly took it off and asked what corpse jade was.

“Corpse jade is jade that’s been with a corpse too long. It’s usually found in ancient tombs, and is saturated with powerful, sinister energy. Look at the color, it’s been blackened by corpse aura. If that aura enters your body, you’ll be poisoned—your body will gradually stiffen, then slowly rot.”

He paused, then chuckled, “I once met someone poisoned by corpse aura. You’ve never seen such misery—their chest was so rotten you could see the organs inside. Strangely, the person was still alive, watching countless maggots gnaw at their flesh, unable to move, feeling nothing at all.”

Imagining countless maggots biting into one’s flesh made my scalp tingle, as though dozens of tiny insects were gnawing at me.

I didn’t want to die from corpse poisoning, so I said I wouldn’t wear the jade pendant. Grandpa Qin waved his hand, “You can’t refuse. If you don’t wear it, he’ll notice. I’ll treat it for you—seal the corpse aura inside to keep you safe.”

With that, Grandpa Qin took the pendant into his room. I waited in the hall, glancing around, feeling as though someone was hiding, secretly watching me. The atmosphere was strange.

I also noticed the hall was colder than outside, the air thick with a faint, peculiar scent—familiar, but I couldn’t place it.

Soon, Grandpa Qin returned with the jade. Seeing no visible change, I couldn’t help but ask, “Is it ready?”

“Don’t worry, the corpse aura is sealed. But remember, never take this pendant out in front of him, or you’ll be discovered.”

The jade was much colder than before; what used to feel normal now felt like a block of ice, but I didn’t think much of it.

As for the yard’s arrangements, Grandpa Qin said not to worry—they were indeed set up to destroy corpses. Xu Bu-Huo didn’t want the crone disrupting his plans and intended to eliminate her.

That was for the best.

With the black dog borrowed, I returned to the old house. As soon as I entered, Xu Bu-Huo looked up at me, making me tense, rooted to the spot, unable to move or stand comfortably.

“Why did it take so long?” Xu Bu-Huo asked.

Suppressing my nerves, I replied, saying the owner wasn’t home and I’d waited at the door. Xu Bu-Huo nodded and told me to tie the dog near the well.

Back in the mourning hall, just as I sat down, Xu Bu-Huo approached and asked, “Did anyone come by during the day?”

Had he noticed something?

Feigning calm, I replied, “Villagers, all here to pay respects. Why?”

“Nothing,” Xu Bu-Huo frowned and walked away. Watching him, I felt sure he sensed Grandpa Qin had visited earlier.

People like them are highly sensitive to each other.

Knowing Xu Bu-Huo could sense Grandpa Qin’s brief visit, my fear of him grew; he was more formidable than I’d imagined. I worried whether Grandpa Qin’s skills were sufficient.

Approaching midnight, I set out the soul-calming lamp.

Though I suspected lighting it was part of Xu Bu-Huo’s plan, I had no choice but to do it.

Just as the night before, Xu Bu-Huo lit a stick of black incense, circled the coffin, and placed it at the head. I took mental notes, planning to ask Grandpa Qin about the incense—what it was made of and its purpose, as it could burn all night.

Around two in the morning, the soul-calming lamp’s flame suddenly turned green.

At the same time, cold winds whipped through the yard, the bells on the wall jingled incessantly, and the black dog by the well stood up, growling toward the door.

Xu Bu-Huo gripped the peach wood sword he’d brought back, staring at the entrance.

The yard gate had long been open. After a while, the lamp’s flame returned to normal, the black dog lay back down, and the cold wind faded.

“She didn’t come?” I asked.

“That wasn’t the mad crone just now, but the woman you mentioned. She’s a shade—she could sense the traps here and didn’t dare enter.”

Jiang Yan—why had she come?

Did she realize I had an expert with me, knew the crone couldn’t steal my soul, and decided to act herself?

I’d expected another night of terror, but it was eerily peaceful till dawn, with no disturbances.

This made me all the more certain that Jiang Yan was the one controlling the crone. She came in advance, saw the arrangements in the yard, and knew that if the crone entered, she would not return.

As long as the crone remained absent, there was no peace. The yard’s setup stayed in place, the ritual array covered to avoid accidental damage.

After my mother took over, I brought Xu Bu-Huo to the new house to sleep. When I awoke, it was already past one in the afternoon. Xu Bu-Huo had left the room, likely heading to the old house, so I slipped off to Grandpa Qin’s.

He was relaxing in the yard; when he saw me, he quickly asked if Xu Bu-Huo had done anything new. I said no, and asked about the dead man’s incense.

“That incense is indeed called ‘dead man’s incense,’” Grandpa Qin said after a moment’s silence. “Do you know what it’s made from?”

If I knew, would I be asking? I grinned, pretending to be curious.

“Newborn boys and girls, killed alive, their bodies sealed in containers for eighty-one days, then dried, ground to powder, and mixed with incense materials.”

I hadn’t expected the incense to be made in such a gruesome way, and a wave of nausea swept over me.

To kill even infants—my fear of Xu Bu-Huo deepened.

“Dead man’s incense is highly attractive to souls. Each night, Xu Bu-Huo lights one and circles the coffin, actually summoning your grandmother’s spirit, locking it in, and stealing her soul.”

He meant to summon my grandmother’s soul?

Knowing the incense had to be burning, I asked, “Can it be extinguished?”

“Yes, but don’t let him know you did it. The incense must go out as if by accident.”

As long as it’s possible, I could figure out how to make it happen.

Just as I was about to leave, Grandpa Qin handed me a small cloth pouch, about the size of a baby’s palm. “Find a chance to slip this into his bag—it will help me restrain him.”

The pouch was filled with various items, some soft, some hard. I tucked it away and left. At the old house’s gate, I ran right into Xu Bu-Huo, coming from the direction of the new house.

“Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you all morning.”

“Restless, so I wandered around the village.”

Perhaps because I felt guilty, I couldn’t help but be nervous in front of Xu Bu-Huo, worried he’d discover something.

“Wandered?” Xu Bu-Huo muttered, then suddenly reached for my face. I instinctively stepped back, only to bump into the wall. Xu Bu-Huo’s face was grim as he forcibly pried open my eyelids.

“Open your mouth.”

Reluctantly, I did so; after checking, Xu Bu-Huo’s expression turned very dark. As I was about to retreat into the old house to avoid him, he abruptly reached into my clothes and pulled out the corpse jade.

In that instant, my mind thundered.

It was over.