Chapter Twenty-Three: The Phantom Spider

Suddenly, a hand seized my shoulder and yanked me backwards! Old Ma had woken up at some unknown moment and now stood behind me.

The spider’s ambush failed; it landed on the floor, raised its four front legs as if ready to attack again. Old Ma took a mouthful of water from his gourd and sprayed it at the giant spider.

The spider endured this baptism; its eight legs contracted sharply, and it swiftly turned and fled. "Trying to escape?" Old Ma sneered, took another mouthful of water, and sprayed it fiercely.

The giant spider reacted as if scalded by boiling water, thrashing on the ground, struggling while crawling into a shadowy corner. Old Ma grabbed an object from a nearby cabinet and flung it at the spider, striking it squarely, splitting its abdomen and splattering fluid everywhere.

"Turn on the light!" Old Ma commanded.

I rushed to the wall and pressed the switch. The bright fluorescent light illuminated the whole room; the object Old Ma had thrown was a comb. His aim was truly remarkable, given the gloom in the room and the spider’s frantic movements.

Old Ma approached the dead spider. In the bright light, it appeared even larger: jet black, covered in bristly fur, somewhat reminiscent of a black ground tiger. Yet its abdomen was rounder and larger than the ground tiger’s—its breed unknown.

Its ruptured abdomen spilled fluid across the floor, and surprisingly, the liquid was blood red.

"Blood-threaded web, Death Wraith Spider—what kind of evil sorcery is this?" Old Ma muttered to himself.

"You mean this thing wasn’t naturally grown?" I questioned.

Old Ma cast a contemptuous glance at me, took another mouthful from his gourd, and sprayed the dead spider. Instantly, it shriveled up as if air-dried, becoming a desiccated corpse in moments!

I was astonished. I had already experienced the uncanny firsthand, and couldn’t help but believe, but I hadn’t expected such bizarre creatures could actually be artificially refined!

Suddenly, I recalled the spider silk I had spotted by the window in Xingman Xing’s room. Her room was dimly lit, and I hadn’t noticed the color or scent of the silk—it could very well have been spun by this bulky creature. Could her strange condition somehow be connected to it?

"What exactly is this thing? Is it related to Xingman Xing’s situation?"

"It’s hard to say what it is, but it’s certainly an evil thing. Since it’s here, it’s no coincidence—it must be linked to the girl’s problem."

"Then let’s go find Uncle Xing and ask him right now!" If we could clarify the origin of the giant spider, perhaps we’d soon resolve Xingman Xing’s situation and save time.

Old Ma, unhurried, replied, "What’s the rush? The wraith spider is dead. It’s late; let’s sleep, and discuss it tomorrow."

He yawned twice and walked to his bed.

From the beginning, the old man was always delaying things—he’d never be proactive!

I glanced at Old Ma’s gourd, asking, "Is there really some miraculous power in your gourd?"

Old Ma squinted and smiled, "The stuff inside is just for refreshing the mind. The formula isn’t special, but the water is Dragon Beard Water from the sacred Duanwu Day, which has the power to ward off evil and dispel filth. This thing can’t endure it."

Old Ma lay down and actually went to sleep.

I lay on the floor bedding, the dead spider not far from my feet. Closing my eyes, all I could see was the giant spider. I was already sleepless; now it was harder than ever to rest.

I drifted in and out until dawn. By then, the dead spider had shriveled into an unrecognizable state.

Old Ma asked Uncle Xing about the spider. Uncle Xing was quite shocked; he’d never known there was such a large spider in the house, nor noticed any spider silk.

We went into Xingman Xing’s room. The spider silk by the window was gone, but the curtain bore scattered, crimson fragments. The curtain was pink, making them hard to spot.

Old Ma pinched the curtain and sniffed it. "These are remnants of the blood spider silk. Go check the curtains in our guest room; see if they’re the same."

I returned to the guest room, recalling how the giant spider had clung to the curtain last night—my heart resisted. I grabbed the curtain and examined it; the spider silk was gone, replaced by scattered red fragments.

I went back and reported honestly.

"It’s exactly as I thought. The spider spins its web at night. By day, the blood spider silk is dissolved by sunlight," Old Ma concluded.

A thought occurred to me. "I’ll check the curtains in the other rooms."

Old Ma puzzled for a moment, then seemed to understand my intention. "Go ahead."

Uncle Xing’s wife led me through all the rooms with curtains. After checking, my suspicion was confirmed, but my confusion deepened. Except for Xingman Xing’s room and our guest room, none of the other curtains had any red fragments.

This was odd. If the thing was only in Xingman Xing’s room, it would make sense—but why was it also in our guest room? Yesterday in daylight, I hadn’t found anything on the curtains, proving the giant spider had left them last night.

So many rooms—why did the giant spider only visit ours last night?

I reported this to Old Ma. He tilted his head, pondering, as if unable to figure it out.

"Tell me honestly—before your daughter’s accident, did she go anywhere or do anything unusual?" Old Ma asked seriously.

Uncle Xing was terrified, nearly in tears. "I truly don’t know! I run a small business, always in the shop. Xingman is grown up and sensible. Where she went, what she did—I genuinely don’t know!"

Uncle Xing’s wife, forgetting her dislike for Old Ma, spoke with a sob, "What’s wrong with Xingman? Is there any hope for her?"

Old Ma was about to answer when the phone rang in the living room. The couple, hearts full of worry for Xingman Xing, didn’t care who was calling.

Old Ma signaled them to answer the phone. Uncle Xing went out.

We also left Xingman Xing’s room and entered the living room.

The call was to inquire about Xingman Xing’s condition. Uncle Xing replied absent-mindedly, "Yes, she’s still unconscious. We went to the hospital, but there’s nothing we can do. We don’t know what’s happening. Thank you for calling. Focus on your studies…"

Judging by Uncle Xing’s tone, the caller seemed to be Xingman Xing’s classmate. Only a close friend would call in such circumstances. As for Xingman Xing’s affairs, aside from her parents, her friends would know best!

Seeing Uncle Xing about to hang up, I quickly said, "Wait!"