35: A Powerful Premonition

The corpse demon stood at the entrance of the main hall.

My mother, terrified, collapsed onto the floor of the mourning room.

Its head was wrapped in black cloth, concealing any features.

“Hey!”

I don’t know where the courage came from; I shouted instinctively, wanting only to draw its attention.

It turned to me, and I cursed loudly. Suddenly, it changed direction and charged at me. I stepped back, but Xu Bu-Huo strode forward and kicked it.

The corpse demon’s body was rock-hard and immensely strong. Xu Bu-Huo, who took the initiative, was knocked back and crashed into me, sending us both rolling to the ground.

As I lifted my head, it stood before us, its mouth beneath the black cloth making a clicking sound. In that instant, it felt as if I was being stared down by a tiger—my ears rang, all sound faded, and I dared not move.

If you ask whether I was afraid, I’d say no. Not because I didn’t want to be, but because my mind went blank; I couldn’t even think to be scared.

A cold wind swept over me, the chill from sweat evaporating brought clarity. Just as I wondered what it would do, it vanished at lightning speed into the darkness outside the yard.

“Damn.”

Xu Bu-Huo was about to give chase but clutched his foot in pain, hissing through gritted teeth—the kick had injured him.

Though it was only a scare, the pressure lingered, leaving my limbs trembling and weak. I gritted my teeth, steadied myself, and helped Xu Bu-Huo inside to sit down. My mother, now recovered, gazed at the empty bed and asked where Brother Li was.

“He ran off on his own.”

“Did—did he come back to life?” My mother stammered. I nodded, and she asked who that person was. The words reached my lips, but I shook my head, saying I didn't know, without revealing the corpse demon wasn’t human.

I knew well that the villagers must not learn of the corpse demon, or they’d realize Old Qin wasn’t torn apart by some beast from the mountain, but by something that looked human yet wasn’t.

“Where’s Old Li?”

As I struggled to explain Brother Li’s vanished body, Sister Liu’s voice rang from the side. She stared blankly at the bed, her face as pale as death.

The matter had already happened; it couldn’t be concealed. I braced myself and said Brother Li suddenly got up and ran away.

No sooner had Sister Liu heard than her eyes rolled back and she fainted.

It was still dark, the villagers asleep. It was unrealistic to rouse anyone to search for Brother Li. I had to suppress the urgency in my heart, fetched spirits and ginger slices, and tended to Xu Bu-Huo’s swollen right foot.

My mother watched over Sister Liu in the room. I whispered, “What exactly is a corpse demon?”

“A kind of monster. You could call it a superior form of zombie. If a corpse is buried in the wrong place, it undergoes subtle changes, developing a low level of intelligence. Like those you see on TV—immense strength, stiff movements, fond of blood.”

“Through secret arts, the zombie’s stiff joints are softened, then specially bred corpse worms are introduced, turning the body into their nest. After some evil rituals, the corpse demon is created: hard as stone, mighty. I saw one with my own eyes decades ago—ripped a man in half right in front of me.”

The mourning room was unnervingly quiet. I swallowed my dry throat and asked, “With such power, how can it be destroyed?”

“Fire.” Xu Bu-Huo’s tone was grave. “Fire destroys many things, and it holds strong yang energy. For those who’ve undergone corpse transformation, or corpse demons, fire can kill them. As for corpse demons, another way is to kill the corpse worm controlling its actions in the head. Decapitation works too.”

With its strength, killing the worm in its head seemed impossible. I began planning to carry something flammable, in case a corpse demon appeared again.

Thinking of what had just happened, I couldn’t help but ask, “Why didn’t it attack me earlier?”

After drawing its attention, it rushed at me. I thought it was going to tear me apart, yet when I lost the will to resist, it only stared at me for a few seconds before leaving.

The more I thought about it, the more it seemed odd—did it just wander around the yard for nothing?

“No idea. Maybe whoever controls it isn't ready to deal with you yet,” Xu Bu-Huo said, equally puzzled.

While waiting, I pondered the corpse transformation of Brother Li. According to my father’s prophecy, all six pallbearers would die. One, Brother Li, died at dusk and transformed at midnight. Would the remaining five also transform after death?

If so, precautions must be taken; otherwise, with each death and transformation, chaos would truly descend upon the village.

There was another point: the ancient texts said corpse transformations always have triggers. Take Old Lady Wang; Xu Bu-Huo had previously analyzed that she transformed because she’d been subjected to rituals in life, consumed corpse oil, and transformed the night she died. Even contact with cats or dogs can trigger it.

Brother Li couldn’t have consumed corpse oil, nor had any animals entered the mourning room. I couldn’t figure out what caused his transformation.

Staring at the sky that would soon brighten, I felt restless, unsure how to explain Brother Li’s corpse transformation to the villagers.

Last time, Old Lady Wang transformed, but no one noticed, since she wasn’t well-liked and few paid attention.

Brother Li was different—he was renowned in the village for his kindness, always helping others. At dawn, villagers would arrive to pay their respects, just as when my grandmother died.

In the end, I decided the matter couldn’t be kept secret.

Though corpse transformation was frightening, those afflicted only hid in dark, damp places by day, due to the strong yang energy.

I planned to use Xu Bu-Huo as a scapegoat, saying Brother Li’s suicide had caused something strange, and postponing the mourning. Then, during daylight, I’d search for his body.

The transformed can still be killed—once Brother Li was found, we’d have to handle him as we did Old Lady Wang, grant him peace, and proceed with burial.

I shared the plan with Xu Bu-Huo; he agreed it would work, but cautioned that searching for the body shouldn’t involve too many people, lest the villagers suspect.

The villagers were unsuitable. After some thought, I decided to ask Fatty and Stone from the neighboring Zhongshan Village. At first light, I set out for their home.

They were surprised by my sudden visit. I worried they’d be too frightened to help, but after hearing my story, their eagerness surpassed mine—they were excited to search for the body.

The reason was simple: curiosity. They wanted to see if the dead could really get up and run as rumored, thinking that if they were involved, they’d have stories to boast about at the tavern.

By nine, we returned to Brother Li’s house. Sister Liu, drained by the incident, was cared for by my mother, who also instructed her how to respond to villagers coming to mourn.

The four of us closed the gate and split up—Fatty and I took one direction, Stone and Xu Bu-Huo another—spreading out from the village center, searching the surrounding woods and ravines.

According to Xu Bu-Huo, those who undergo corpse transformation, with the arrival of daylight, seek damp, dark places—anywhere untouched by sunlight.

Behind the village lay countless ravines, many perpetually shadowed. We steeled ourselves and searched each in turn. Along the way, Stone listened to my account of recent events, struck speechless for a long time.

He’d been excited at first, but after hearing the details, his pallor betrayed his fear, and I regretted involving them. I realized everything that had happened lately was tied to my family, to me. Old Qin, for instance, hadn’t truly helped—just offered advice, yet was killed by the corpse demon. Brother Li died because he carried my grandmother’s coffin. If Fatty or Stone suffered because of me, I wouldn’t know how to repay that debt.

By three in the afternoon, we’d searched all around the village with no trace of Brother Li. I wondered if he’d wandered further afield, but Xu Bu-Huo insisted otherwise; those transformed rarely leave home unless controlled by someone.

I was anxious. Using excuses, I could delay news of the transformation for a day or two, but any longer and the villagers would grow suspicious. That was only one aspect—my father’s dire prophecy had begun. Which pallbearer was next, and when, was unknown.

If deaths continued, chaos would only deepen. It was late afternoon; once night fell, if Brother Li roamed, he’d be even harder to find.

“Old man, is there no way?”

I pleaded with Xu Bu-Huo. The events of these days had left me exhausted; I longed to forget everything and sleep for two days straight, but I couldn’t.

“There is, but the price is steep.”

From his grim expression, it was clear: if he had a choice, he wouldn’t use the method he was about to mention. But I couldn’t afford to worry about that now. I asked what it was.

“There’s a secret art that lets you search for corpses using the Eight Characters, but it requires a searcher—and each use costs the searcher a year of their lifespan.”

One search, one year of life.

Lifespan is hard to measure; I wanted to argue, but Xu Bu-Huo’s face showed he wasn’t joking. I steadied myself and asked, “Is it really one year?”

“When have I ever joked with you? Do you know why those professional corpse retrievers by the Yellow River rarely live past fifty? Because they know this secret art, trading lifespan for the ability to find corpses. Otherwise, do you think they’re equipped with radar? The water’s so muddy, the currents so treacherous—how else would they know exactly where a body has come to rest?”

I’d heard that the professionals by the Yellow River seldom lived past sixty. As for their uncanny ability to locate bodies, many said they were water ghosts, making their living from the dead.

I hadn’t expected it was all paid with their own lives.

Recalling my father’s prophecy, an intense feeling swept over me: tonight, among the remaining five pallbearers, someone else would meet disaster. It was a feeling I couldn’t describe—like waking with a sudden, inexplicable unease, knowing something would happen, and then it does.

Before chaos descends, I must resolve Brother Li’s corpse transformation.

A year of life—I was willing to pay.

At that moment, I had no idea this decision would make me unstoppable.

Nor did I know that it would set me on a path of no return.