Chapter Sixteen: Capturing the Spirit

It was thanks to Wen that we weren’t in even greater danger; even at this critical moment, he had the nerve to use his phone as a flashlight! I threw him a signal, but his eyes were glued to the struggle between the two figures, never once glancing my way.

“Wen! Get out!” With no other choice, I called out to him.

He finally looked over, still not grasping the situation. I didn’t bother to explain, just waved him out. The idiot even hesitated, as if he wanted to stay and help. If the circumstances weren’t so dire, I would’ve cursed him right then—what help could he possibly offer? Didn’t he see how Old Chen leapt straight into the darkness, his aim precise? Wen’s flashlight was utterly redundant!

Luckily, the fool finally made up his mind and, taking advantage of Old Chen and the specter’s battle in the corner, dashed out. The moment he reached the doorway, I grabbed and yanked him outside, just in case he did something stupid again.

“What happened?” I asked.

His face was pale, clearly terrified. Hard to believe he’d just been thinking of helping!

After a few deep breaths, he stammered, “We were waiting over there, then suddenly the lights went out, and we heard a scream…”

Though his account was muddled, I could piece together what happened: Old Chen had laid a trap near the little nest from the start. When the ghostly woman arrived, she triggered the formation, producing that piercing shriek. After that, chaos erupted in the dark, and Wen, panicked, couldn’t make sense of it.

“Why did everything suddenly go quiet just now?” I pressed.

“Old Chen told us not to make a sound and startle her. The ghost couldn’t get her bearings and started darting all over. I watched her come down from upstairs and saw you by the door.”

I noticed a blood mark, about the size of a fingertip, on Wen’s forehead—likely something Old Chen had placed on them.

Inside, the sounds of crashing and scuffling echoed from the darkness, followed by a muffled thud and Old Chen’s pained groan.

Wen instinctively raised his phone to light the room. Old Chen slumped against the wall, a large patch of blood spreading across the floor.

Wen made to rush in, but I grabbed him—he truly had no sense of self-preservation! I dragged him back a few steps, away from the door.

The noises of their struggle continued.

“What are you doing? We need to help!” Wen protested.

“If you’re going to help, at least think of a plan first. Running in blindly will only get you killed,” I said.

“So what should we do? I heard that a boy’s urine can drive away evil spirits—should we try it?”

“Could you even manage it right now?” I retorted.

He seemed to try in secret, then shook his head. “No way. So, what do you suggest?”

Old Chen’s coughing grew louder inside; things were looking worse.

I had a plan ready. “Your grandmother still has the rooster left from Mid-Autumn. Go grab the chicken and a knife!”

“What about you?”

“I have something else in mind.”

We raced back to Wen’s grandmother’s house. Wen darted into the kitchen while I went to the living room, to the altar Old Chen had set up. He’d only taken the bell and the knife, leaving behind some other ritual tools. I didn’t know how useful they’d be, but professional tools are always better than nothing.

After a quick check, I picked up the divine seal. This wasn’t a random choice—the seal’s pattern matched the stamp on the spirit-suppressing talisman Old Chen had given me before. That talisman had helped some; no reason this seal wouldn’t.

Wen returned, holding the rooster and a fruit knife. Without delay, we hurried back.

From inside, Old Chen’s violent coughing mixed with heavy thuds and a scattering of sounds. We could easily imagine what was happening within.

I pulled out my phone and briefed Wen. Then, moving quietly to the door, I held my breath and listened intently before signaling to him.

Wen slashed the rooster’s neck, then threw it into the room. A shrill scream erupted, followed by chaos—feathers flew, claws scratched, and everything went wild!

The rooster’s blood really worked! I immediately switched on my phone’s flashlight, aiming into the room. My intent was to spot the specter and hurl the divine seal, but to my shock, a ghastly white face appeared right in front of me!

My heart leapt into my throat. Instinctively, I pressed the seal straight into her face!

A piercing scream exploded at point-blank range, nearly splitting my eardrums.

I gripped the seal tightly, refusing to let go.

“Watch out!” Wen shouted anxiously.

Two pale hands lunged for me. My heart skipped—a flash of steel, and a long blade intercepted, wrenching the ghost away. I staggered back, nearly collapsing.

Old Chen dragged the female ghost to the wall, barely restraining her. But as things stood, the ghost couldn’t break free, nor could Old Chen do anything further.

He looked at me, wanting to speak, but only blood gushed from his open mouth.

I understood. Clutching the divine seal, I rushed forward and slammed it with all my strength onto her head!

A scream, sharper than before, tore through the air, a chilling wind surging towards me. I nearly lost my footing, bracing myself against the wall, hands pressing down hard on the seal.

Dark, frigid energy swirled in the room. The ghost’s form thrashed madly; Old Chen coughed blood relentlessly, weakening as he struggled to hold her.

No good! I needed to do more!

From the corner of my eye, I saw the rooster, its throat slashed, still twitching. I shouted, “Wen! Grab the rooster, quickly!”

Wen hurried over, clutching the bleeding bird, momentarily frozen.

“Pour the rooster’s blood on her!” I yelled.

Only then did Wen snap out of it. Hugging the half-dead bird, he ran over, twisted its neck, and pressed it against the female ghost.

Her screams grew more frenzied, the cold aura thickening, her struggles even fiercer.

I dared not relax, pressing the divine seal with all my might. The three of us held our positions, until finally, the ghost’s strength waned.

Old Chen abruptly withdrew his blade, produced a yellow cloth, and slapped it onto the ghost. Her form vanished instantly. Old Chen swiftly rolled up the cloth and spat a mouthful of blood onto it.

Finally, I let up, gasping for breath. Wen was also panting, struggling to steady himself. Who could have imagined that I, a mere mortal, would one day battle a ghost?

Old Chen put away the yellow cloth and, drained, slumped against the wall, blood pouring from his mouth, the floor beneath him stained red.

It seemed the ordeal was over. I sent Wen upstairs to check on the others.

Turning to Old Chen, I asked, “Are you all right?”

He waved weakly, indicating he’d survive. After catching his breath, he managed, “That… cough… that ghost is sealed. The child… the child will be fine…”

I hesitated, then asked, “Old Master Chen, in your current state, can you still extend my life?”