Chapter 42: Summoning Souls to Verify Life and Death

The third party—why would they interfere in this matter? I find it hard to comprehend.

Turning Uncle Qian’s corpse into a human skin eliminated the possibility of corpse transformation, which certainly spared us some trouble. It ought to be a good thing, yet my mind cannot relax; I have an uneasy feeling that things are not as simple as they seem.

From Xu Buhuo’s tightly furrowed brow and grim expression, it was clear he too found parts of this situation perplexing.

“Bring the coffin and put him in it. There’s no chance of corpse transformation now. You all know what happened to Liu Lai.”

Liu Lai lost a great deal of blood and water, leaving only a skin in the end. Everyone in the village knew about it. Xu Buhuo mentioned him to make Uncle Qian’s family aware that he, too, would soon be reduced to just a human skin.

Wailing began anew in the mourning hall.

The elderly always prepare their coffin in advance. Uncle Qian’s coffin was in the house, but leaving his body on the bed to bleed was both frightening and troublesome to clean up if all that remained was a skin.

After tending to Uncle Qian’s remains, I lit incense as an offering. Xu Buhuo gave instructions for the burial and then called me outside.

There would be no further disturbances at the mourning hall, so Cao Guangshan had no reason to stay. On the way, he asked me what would become of Uncle Qian, and I told him he’d end up like Liu Lai—just a skin.

“You speak of the Ghost-faced Worm—can it really be that formidable?” Cao Guangshan was evidently skeptical. A tiny insect, just by biting a corpse, could turn it into such a state?

Not only him—even I found it hard to imagine how lethal the Ghost-faced Worm must be, to cause a corpse to dissolve into nothing but skin.

As I spoke with Cao Guangshan, Xu Buhuo, who was walking ahead, suddenly stopped and asked, “Ziwu, did you lock the door earlier?”

“I did.”

Looking up, I saw the old house’s gate was now wide open. My heart skipped a beat. Before leaving, worried someone might hear us and discover the situation in the sealed corpse kiln, I had carefully locked the door. But now, it was open.

My mother had gone out to ask for dirty blood from each household; there was no way she’d return so quickly. Even if she did, seeing the gate locked from the outside, she’d know we weren’t in the yard.

“Damn it, we’ve been tricked!” Xu Buhuo cursed, rushing toward the courtyard. I suddenly understood why the third party had interfered, turning Uncle Qian’s corpse to blood.

It was a diversion.

A single ordinary corpse transforming would cause some chaos, but nothing compared to the havoc unleashed by two evil corpses. The third party had long set their sights on the two children in the sealed corpse kiln, but had waited for the right moment.

Rushing to the gate, I saw the lock lying on the ground and the gate toppled—clearly forced open. Instantly, I thought of the powerful corpse fiend.

Around the well, water marks were everywhere.

Seeing this, only one word echoed in my mind: disaster.

Ordinary folk wouldn’t dare enter the well, but the corpse fiend would—it was not human, possessed immense strength, and could easily break the chains and carry off the two children.

The flashlight illuminated the well; the water’s surface was eerily calm.

No need to speculate—the two children inside the well were certainly gone. Faced with this, Xu Buhuo sat helplessly on a coffin nearby, as if struck by a heavy blow, head bowed, back hunched, looking utterly defeated.

The courtyard was chillingly silent.

“Ziwu, do you think your grandmother might actually be the third party we’ve been searching for?” Xu Buhuo suddenly asked.

My grandmother—the third party lurking in the shadows?

I was stunned, unsure how to answer, for I had never imagined my grandmother could be connected to that mysterious figure.

“Think about it. We’ve never seen her in person, only know she manipulates things from the shadows. And her appearance coincided with your grandmother’s passing. Now that I reconsider, perhaps your earlier suspicions were correct. Maybe she orchestrated all this from behind the scenes. After all, those two evil corpses were left by her, and our purpose was to destroy them before leaving. Clearly, she didn’t want her arrangement ruined, so she used a diversion to create an opportunity.”

His reasoning made sense, but could it really be true?

I didn’t know what to think; my mind was a chaos of confusion.

“And also, consider Liu Lai, who had no connection to any of this. He caused trouble at your house one night, then died the next morning. His death shouldn't have any bearing on these events. And last night, that ruthless corpse fiend, capable of killing without hesitation, spared the three of us in the yard. Don’t you find that strange?”

Hearing this, I couldn’t help but tremble.

Though I desperately wished it weren’t true, the facts gradually pointed to the third party in the shadows being somehow linked to my grandmother.

Moreover, I recalled how her passing had been sudden and without warning. Yet after she was laid to rest and the coffin sealed, there had always been someone keeping vigil. Even if she had faked her death, how could she escape? And on the night of the funeral, six uncles struggled to carry the coffin—it certainly didn’t seem empty.

I voiced these doubts, and Xu Buhuo gave a cold laugh, retorting, “Do you think Granny Wang could enter Jiang Yan’s tomb without moving a muscle? Leaving a coffin quietly would be so difficult? There are methods you couldn’t even imagine—we can accomplish things you wouldn’t believe.”

Indeed, it seemed plausible.

As for why my grandmother would fake her death and hide, that was simple. If she remained alive, after all that happened, she’d have to help resolve things, but doing so would unravel her own arrangement. Retreating into the shadows allowed her to manipulate matters in peace.

Could Grandmother truly be so ruthless?

It took me a while to recover, and then I asked Xu Buhuo weakly, “So what do you suggest? Should we open my grandmother’s coffin to check if she’s inside?”

Xu Buhuo waved his hand. “Not just yet. It’s only my guess—what if I’m wrong? I actually hope I am. Before opening the coffin, I can run a test to see whether she’s truly dead or merely pretending.”

Beside us, Cao Guangshan listened to our conversation, wide-eyed and bewildered. I had intended to explain, but these revelations left me no mind to elaborate.

With the two children gone from the sealed corpse kiln, there was little point in remaining. We immediately returned to the new house, where Xu Buhuo announced he would perform a soul-calling ritual.

His test was straightforward: summon my grandmother’s soul. If her spirit could be called, it would prove she had truly passed, and we could ask about her involvement in all this. If the soul could not be summoned, it would indirectly indicate she was still alive.

At the entrance to the new house, the four uncles I’d greeted earlier were smoking and waiting for us. After bringing them inside and settling them, I went out with Cao Guangshan to find my mother, telling her she needn’t bother searching for dirty blood anymore.

On the way, I recounted everything that had happened recently to Cao Guangshan. I hadn’t explained earlier because it was too chaotic and bizarre, but now, knowing these events were orchestrated behind the scenes, it wasn’t quite as frightening.

After finding my mother and returning home, Xu Buhuo had already set up in the main hall. He had my mother sit cross-legged in the center of the ritual circle, then began painting a spell on her forehead with cinnabar.

I recognized the spell from my collection—it was called the Yang-Sealing Spell, capable of sealing a person’s yang energy.

The collection explained that humans are yang, ghosts are yin, hence the term “yin soul.” Normally, a yin soul cannot enter a living person, because the yang energy harms it. To allow a yin soul to possess the living, their yang energy must be sealed.

With the basic setup complete, Xu Buhuo looked at the four uncles and said solemnly, “No matter what happens, remain silent. If you’re frightened, wait in the other room.”

They were all grown men, so admitting fear would be shameful. The four uncles and Cao Guangshan stayed put; I sat facing my mother.

If my grandmother’s soul truly appeared, I would be the one to question it, since she had doted on me most in life—it was more fitting for me to ask.

Xu Buhuo handed me the burning incense, spread the yellow paper, then began pacing around me and my mother, reciting incantations.

Three circles clockwise, three circles counterclockwise, his fingers pressed various points on my mother’s back and head, and she soon grew drowsy until finally losing consciousness altogether.

“Offer the incense.”

At his low command, I hurriedly placed the incense in the burner before me. Xu Buhuo nodded at me, signifying the ritual was complete, and now all that remained was to wait.

Summoning a soul takes time; the incense serves as a boundary.

If, by the time the incense burned out, the soul had not appeared, it would mean the ritual had failed.

The hall fell into silence, everyone’s expression and demeanor different.

I couldn’t help but wonder—would my grandmother come?