68: A Living Woman

A ground covered in corpses.

They were all fresh, not yet decayed, densely kneeling, numbering at least a hundred. The dead formed a circle, and at the center stood a stone platform, now empty. Remembering what Grandmother had said about the evil thing, I realized that something sinister should have been lying on the platform, but with this place opened, the evil thing had escaped.

At this point, I couldn't care about anything else. I shouted at the top of my lungs and forced myself to walk into the midst of the corpses, hoping to find Grandmother or Xu Buhuo among them.

After searching the entire area and finding nothing, Stone asked whether Grandmother and Xu Buhuo might have chased after the evil thing that had been on the platform; otherwise, it was impossible for them not to be here.

I thought for a moment and agreed it was the only explanation for Grandmother and Xu Buhuo’s mysterious disappearance. Immediately, I rushed out of the cave, splitting into two groups to search the surroundings.

"Ziwu, there seems to be someone over there," Stone suddenly pointed at a distant patch of grass. The distance was significant, but I could see someone lying in the grass and hurried over.

As I approached, my heart skipped a beat and my shoulders grew heavy. The person lying there was neither Xu Buhuo nor Grandmother; judging by the clothing, it was my father, who had become a corpse demon. How he ended up here was a mystery.

Stone flipped the body over, and my fists clenched instinctively—it was indeed my father, and he was thoroughly dead, with a bloody hole in the center of his forehead.

Xiaolong and Xiaoling, the two corpse spirits, had clearly been torn apart by my father. Grandpa Qin had died in the cave, and now my father appeared here. The situation made me wonder: was it the evil thing locked in the cave that killed my father?

If Grandpa Qin had killed my father, the body wouldn’t be here, nor would Grandpa Qin’s body be at the cave entrance, nor would Xiaolong and Xiaoling's remains be inside the cave.

The only plausible explanation was that the unknown evil entity was released, and Grandmother and Xu Buhuo, along with my father, pursued it.

As a corpse demon, my father felt no pain and must have been the main force against the evil thing, but was ultimately killed.

"Ziwu, it looks like the wound was made by a finger," Stone muttered, squatting to examine my father’s forehead. I knelt down and saw the hole—round, wide outside and narrow within, not deep, as if a finger had been pushed in.

Recalling the bizarre scene in the cave, so many buried dead, I understood the truth was likely this: the evil thing was beyond human imagination. Even as a corpse demon, my father was nothing in its presence.

"Look, it seems your father killed himself," Stone suddenly raised my father’s hand, showing the index finger stained with something.

Did my father kill himself?

I stood frozen, unable to accept the idea, unable to imagine why my father would pierce his own forehead with his finger.

After pondering without answers, I asked Stone to guard my father’s body and continued pursuing in the same direction. Not far ahead, I found Xu Buhuo’s torn cloth bag, stained with fresh blood.

The area showed signs of struggle—footprints and blood everywhere—but no people.

My heart was tense and aching.

I shouted several times but received no response, so I kept searching the surroundings, yet found nothing.

Cao Guangshan called out from a distant hilltop, shouting my name. Against the wind, I couldn’t hear clearly, but sensed he had found something and hurried over.

"I found your grandmother, but her condition isn’t good."

Both joy and worry surged as I saw Grandmother, and upon the first sight, I couldn’t help but burst into tears.

Grandmother’s arm was missing, the wound gruesomely bloody, as if the limb had been forcibly torn off. The only solace was that she was still alive, breathing weakly.

Xu Buhuo was nowhere to be found, so I had to keep searching. I asked Cao Guangshan to carry Grandmother down the mountain to the hospital, and Stone and Fatty to take my father home.

In pursuit of Xu Buhuo, I was like a madman, shouting and running across the mountain.

After my father was brought home, Fatty and Stone returned to help. We searched the entire back mountain, finding only Xu Buhuo's torn bag and its scattered contents, but no sign of him.

As evening approached, villagers finally noticed the strange events at Blackwater Ravine—some wept, others called the authorities.

With the sun gone and night fully fallen, I descended the mountain in despair.

"Ziwu, not finding someone isn’t necessarily bad," Fatty suddenly said. I wanted to turn and look at him, but after a day without food or water, I was nearly collapsing and had no strength to lift my head.

"Think about it: not finding him means he’s still alive, right? Maybe he’s gone after that evil thing, so that’s why he’s missing. If you did find him, and he was worse off than your grandmother, wouldn’t that be…"

Fatty didn’t finish, but I understood his meaning.

Not finding Xu Buhuo on the mountain could be a blessing—it meant he was still alive, better than dead.

Thinking this way, my heavy mood eased. Recalling Xu Buhuo’s abilities, I suspected he would be fine. The truth would become clear once Grandmother awoke.

Back home, I ate a little. Just as I was preparing to find a ride to the county hospital, my head suddenly spun, and everything went black.

When I awoke, it was already the next morning. Fatty was startled by my awakening, saying I had fainted from exhaustion.

Anxious about Grandmother, I was about to leave when Mother brought news of her.

Her condition was optimistic; Grandmother had regained consciousness and, once her wound was treated, could return home after a couple days’ rest. Hearing this, my heart finally relaxed.

"By the way, your grandmother said someone will come at noon to investigate what happened in the village. Just answer their questions honestly," Mother instructed.

Fatty and Stone had stayed several days, but worried about their families, they went home.

At noon, a man and a woman entered the courtyard. Confirming I was Chen Ziwu, they revealed their identities—agents from Division Six, specializing in abnormal cases.

Curious, I asked whether Grandmother and Xu Buhuo belonged to Division Six. Both nodded, saying Grandmother and Xu Buhuo held prestigious positions in the division.

Given Xu Buhuo’s disappearance, I explained the situation; they took notes and promised to report back and search for him, notifying Grandmother if there was news.

Seeing their willingness to help, I felt better, answered their questions honestly, and recounted all the strange events in the village.

What puzzled me was that, despite so many deaths in the village and numerous bodies in the cave, word hadn’t spread.

During lunch, Mother mentioned that authorities had sent people to handle the matter; families with deceased members were compensated.

Money for the dead, and with compensation, the families didn’t pursue further.

Such measures made me wonder at the power of Division Six—to pay so much and suppress all these events.

How many incidents like ours, I wondered, had happened across the country, quietly covered up so outsiders never learned of them?

My father had already been buried once. To avoid trouble, Mother and I carried his body up the mountain at night and buried him properly.

Within two days, after burials were completed, the village gradually returned to normal. Yet I could clearly feel a change in the villagers’ attitude toward Mother and me.

Subtly, they grew cold toward us.

I noticed, but said nothing; Mother didn’t mind.

During this time, I wandered the mountain whenever I could, hoping to find Xu Buhuo.

On the fifth day, Grandmother returned, her right arm gone, face pale, but she seemed spirited.

In the small courtyard, Grandmother lay on a chair under the sun, and I sat quietly beside her.

As if sensing my thoughts, Grandmother suddenly said, "Ask whatever you want, while I still have some time. I’ll tell you everything."

My first question was about the evil thing in the cave.

Grandmother didn’t say what it was, only that it was extremely dangerous, far worse than imagined. Her arm hadn’t been torn off by the evil thing, but by my father—when confronting the evil entity, a single glance from it made him turn against Grandmother and Xu Buhuo.

The change was so swift, Grandmother couldn’t react before her arm was torn off. Fortunately, Xu Buhuo responded quickly, intervening, and then my father seemed to realize his mistake and killed himself with his finger.

Xu Buhuo disappeared, chasing after the evil thing.

Sensing my worry for Xu Buhuo, Grandmother comforted me, "Don’t worry. He’s not so easy to kill. You know he’s already half-dead; it’s not simple to finish him off."

Hearing this, the tension in my heart eased a little.

Thinking of Grandpa Qin, dead in the cave, I asked how he ended up that way.

"That was my arrangement. He wanted to use a sacrifice to open that place, so I included him in the scheme."

Here, Grandmother’s tone was notably proud. "It’s sad, really. He plotted for over twenty years, just to see what was inside, but ended up dying without ever knowing what it was."

"Grandmother, what was inside? Was it a corpse?"

Though she had avoided the subject before, I couldn’t help but ask again.

This time, Grandmother didn’t refuse outright, nor answer directly. After a moment's silence, she said, "Inside was a woman. A living woman."

A living woman? Not an evil thing?

I struggled to grasp this, but I knew Grandmother wouldn’t lie to me. Perhaps what lay in the cave really was a woman, and a living one at that.

I couldn’t imagine how a woman could survive sealed in the cave, unless she wasn’t truly human.

Somehow, thinking of that living woman, unease crept into my heart—I felt she would return someday.