Chapter 121: The Curse!

Returning once more to that old, secluded alley, there was no longer any shouting or cursing—only an eerie silence. Every household had their doors tightly shut, an atmosphere most peculiar.

Approaching Old Ma’s house, I saw the door wide open, yet no sound came from within.

Growing wary, I stepped to the doorway and called out loudly, “Master! Master? Old Ma? Are you there?”

Inside, all was still. No sign of Old Ma. Why was the door wide open then?

I entered the house. It was as empty and unchanged as the last time I came. Or was it? There was a difference.

A chilling coldness pervaded the entire room, an unsettling presence of darkness unlike before. The oppressive aura was so thick it rivaled that place where the nine corpses were soul-forged.

“The yin energy here is very strong,” Tuo E said, frowning.

We moved into the living room. Old Ma’s rocking chair remained in its place; the house was neat and orderly.

“The energy seems to be emanating from inside,” Tuo E gestured toward the bedroom.

I approached the bedroom. The door was half-open, curtains drawn, the room shrouded in gloom. The window was inside; I tried flipping the switch several times, but the light refused to turn on. I had no choice but to leave it dark.

Stepping inside, I could barely make out a figure lying on the bed.

“Old Ma? Is that you?” I asked.

No response. Was he asleep?

I moved closer. The figure lay on his side, hair streaked with gray, frail and hunched—a resemblance to Old Ma, yet something was off. I’d known Old Ma for years and never once seen him sleep on his side; he always lay rigidly straight.

“Dead old man? Is that you?” I taunted, expecting a retort if he was merely asleep.

But the figure remained motionless.

Frowning, I leaned in to get a better look. His face was obscured by shadow. Suddenly, his arm twitched—he was waking. His head turned, and his gaunt face met my gaze.

I froze, and before I could think further, he sprang from the bed and lunged at me. I barely had time to react before someone yanked my clothes sharply, pulling me aside.

The old man landed on all fours. He wasn’t Old Ma, but someone familiar—the elderly herbal tea vendor who lived nearby! How was he here, and in such a state? His sunken eyes gleamed with a strange light, expressionless, like a wild creature.

“Chitter—chitter-chitter,” an odd sound came from his mouth.

A rat! His movements were rat-like! A chill ran through me. How could a man become like this? What had happened to him?

He scrambled toward us on all fours. Tuo E pushed me away and began muttering incantations, but the old man was undeterred, swiftly lunging at him.

“Watch out!” I shouted.

Tuo E dodged and reached for a chair to strike, but paused abruptly. The old man was nearly upon him, so he spun and kicked the chair hard.

The chair struck him, and he let out a shrill cry. Seizing the moment, we bolted for the door.

Yet before we could escape the living room, a piercing screech echoed as the old man leapt from above, landing squarely in front of us.

“Heavens! What’s wrong with him?” I exclaimed.

“He’s been cursed. Don’t touch anything in this house,” Tuo E warned.

A curse! I’d thought curses only harmed people, but to turn a perfectly healthy man into this? Unbelievable.

The old man lunged again on all fours. We dodged, but just as he aimed for me, Tuo E snapped his fingers. The old man paused, then changed direction, bounding a few steps before springing onto the rocking chair and leaping up to the doorframe.

I was dumbfounded—was he about to fly? His agility was impressive.

He seemed poised to grab the wall, but suddenly pushed off, flipping down and kicking the old man outside the door.

Landing on the floor, Tuo E urged, “Go! This whole house is cursed!”

We fled the living room, the old man blocking the exit, his eerie eyes fixed on us as he emitted frantic chittering sounds, like an animal ready to fight for its life.

We halted, wary, watching him in the bright daylight. His bizarre form was clear now: besides his wild gaze and posture, his skin was dark purple-black, covered in fine black fur, more rodent than man.

“Hey, didn’t you easily dispel that old witch’s curse before?” I asked, swallowing nervously.

“That one was simple. This curse is far stronger,” Tuo E replied.

If even he said it was strong, it must be formidable indeed.

The old man bent his limbs, preparing to leap again.

I tensed to dodge, but suddenly he dropped flat, motionless.

“What’s he doing?” I wondered.

Tuo E examined him closely, then stepped forward and said, “He’s dead.”

“Dead? He looked so fierce just now. How could he suddenly die?”

“His body reached its limit, killed by the curse within.”

Suddenly, the corpse stirred. Startled, Tuo E and I stepped back. The old man’s back heaved violently, rising and falling, swelling and contracting as if about to burst.

“Not good! Get out!” Tuo E shouted, realizing the danger.

We hurried around the corpse, racing to the front door. Just as we reached it, a muffled sound came—the old man’s back exploded! A soft buzzing filled the air as something flew out from his back, invisible to the eye.

“Curse insects!” Tuo E exclaimed.

We dashed outside into the alley. It was still deathly silent, utterly still. What had happened here? Were all the people dead? A sudden chill gripped me, recalling the old man’s appearance. Could it be true? The entire neighborhood was eerily quiet, even the nearby vegetable market unusually so.

Lost in thought, I failed to watch my steps and bumped into someone, followed by a startled scream.

We stopped immediately and saw a little girl had fallen to the ground.