Chapter 80 The Boy in the Coffin

I stared blankly at the motionless spirit beside me. What was going on? What had I just recited? Could it be that luck was finally on my side, and I got it right this time?

Without hesitation, I pressed my fingers into the intricate hand signs toward the surrounding spirits. One by one, they were blasted away, and the space around me cleared instantly. I let out a sigh of relief. Just as I was about to deal with the remaining spirits, they regained movement, raising their hands and advancing toward me.

I hastily recited the Ghost-Repelling Incantation again, and the spirits froze once more. It truly seemed that the incantation was working; I had finally recited it correctly!

From my previous attempt, I knew the incantation lasted about three minutes. I quickly pressed the hand signs against the spirits around me: the blue ones dissipated with a single touch, the green needed two, the white required three, and the red-clad spirits needed six presses. The red spirits were far more formidable than the others!

Whenever the incantation wore off, I recited it again, continually using the hand signs to attack the surrounding spirits. After much effort, I managed to clear out most of them. The floating ghostly flames gradually faded as well.

Once I had eliminated all the spirits, the ghost lights vanished completely, plunging the surroundings into darkness. Supporting myself on my knees, I gasped for breath. So many spirits—finally, they were all gone.

Old Ma's flashlight beam landed on me. "If you're done, come help! You took forever—honestly!"

I was furious. He had suddenly taught me an ancient Yue incantation and a mysterious hand sign, then left me alone to face the horde of spirits. I’d managed to pull it off, and he still complained about my speed!

Reluctantly, I walked over, still out of breath and unsettled.

Old Ma and Guo Yangyu were vigorously digging at a grave mound with branches.

"Come on, help out! Someone’s in there—if we’re late, they’ll suffocate!" Old Ma said bluntly.

Displeased, I grabbed a branch and joined them.

Old Ma grumbled, "A bunch of feeble little spirits took you so long—almost got torn apart!"

Guo Yangyu said, "Ma, he did well. This kid's sharp—anyone else probably couldn’t have remembered your ancient Yue incantation."

"Remembered? He just guessed and got lucky!"

That damned old man had disapproved of me since the day we met, constantly disparaging me. He kept settling personal scores and scheming against me. I strongly suspected he’d left me alone with the spirits just to fulfill his threat from the previous night!

---

The three of us dug with all our might until a damaged coffin appeared. We increased our efforts, clearing away the remaining soil and prying open the lid.

Inside lay a boy of about fifteen or sixteen, hands resting on his abdomen, breathing evenly and looking peaceful.

I was taken aback. At his age, he could be called a child, but that term rarely applied. His attire and demeanor were refined—not the type to wear sneakers and play basketball. Most strikingly, his skin was fair, and his features delicate, nothing like Old Ding.

"There are others. Damn! Hurry up—we can’t let them die after being trapped so long!" Old Ma said, motioning for me to lift the boy out. He and Guo Yangyu continued searching nearby.

Stepping onto the coffin’s edge, I helped the boy sit up and carried him out. His body was limp and unusually light.

I laid him on the ground, intending to help search for others. Just as I rose, I felt my clothes tugged.

Startled, I looked at the boy, wondering if he’d woken.

But his face remained utterly calm, showing no sign of consciousness. His right hand, however, gripped my clothes tightly, as if holding onto a lifeline, unwilling to let go.

"Over here! Hurry, help!" Old Ma shouted from afar.

With no time to think, I pried his hand off and ran to Old Ma.

The two were frantically digging with sticks, so I grabbed a wooden rod and joined in.

After much struggle, we finally unearthed the coffin. My heart sank—the coffin was even more decrepit than the last, its lid rotten and soil filling the interior, reducing air space and making the air even scarcer.

We hurriedly lifted the lid. Inside lay a boy of eleven or twelve, his face covered by the soil that had seeped into the coffin. His chest showed no movement.

A weight pressed down in my heart.

Old Ma brushed the dirt from his face, placed a hand on his forehead, then shook his head and sighed. "His soul has departed, his vital energy is gone. There’s no saving him."

Unwilling to give up, I felt for his heart—his chest was silent. I checked under his nose—no breath.

---

This child hadn’t been as lucky as the boy before. When he was buried, the decayed coffin let soil cover his face, causing him to suffocate quickly.

Bittersweet emotions flooded my heart. I had promised Old Ding to save his son, yet failed. Since entering this line of work, this was the third death I’d witnessed: the man killed in the gang fight, Huang Gaoyuan who was bitten to death by the living dead cat. If you count Miao Bin, sacrificed by Old Ding, that made four.

I wasn’t emotionally strong; death unsettled me and made me fearful. Back when I was aimlessly drifting, I once witnessed someone hacked to death by a gang—the bloody scene gave me nightmares for a week.

If Huang Gaoyuan and the man killed in the fight had died with cause and culpability, what about Old Ding’s child? Was he paying for ancestral debts?

"Let’s take the body back first. Luo Zi, carry the boy," Old Ma said, seemingly noticing my mood and deliberately calling me away.

I went over and lifted the boy onto my back. Who was he, and why had he ended up buried in the grave mound? Had we not come, he would surely have died as well.

Old Ma and Guo Yangyu approached. Guo Yangyu carried the dead child; the body had been dead a while and was stiff, making it feel odd on his back. I grew increasingly thoughtful as we turned to leave.

"Wait," Old Ma suddenly called out.

I stopped. He hurried over and fiddled with the back of the boy’s head, frowning. "Soul-Locking Nail! No wonder he’s unconscious—someone used a Soul-Locking Nail on him! Who is this boy, and how did he come to have a Soul-Locking Nail?"

Soul-Locking Nail? What was that?

"We’ll have to take him back first. Once we remove the Soul-Locking Nail and he wakes up, we can ask him," Guo Yangyu said.

Old Ma nodded. "That’s all we can do. Let’s go."

I glanced at the boy. Since he’d been nailed with the mysterious Soul-Locking Nail and buried in a coffin, he must have some connection to the old woman. Who was he really?