Chapter Fifty-One: Leaving a Note

There’s a saying that mountain paths are hard to travel—ascending is easy, but descending is treacherous. It refers not to the broad, well-worn roads, but to wild hills thick with woods and treacherous, uneven ground underfoot.

The night was unsettlingly dark. Carrying my mother’s corpse on my back, I felt no fear of her, but the chill of death was undeniably real. My father, cradling the ghost fetus, was watching us in the darkness; that, too, was reality.

“Xie Yuan, pay no heed to your father’s words. His life was stolen; he died with nothing left, a ghost full of bitter wrath. Especially since his life was given over to the ghost fetus, it’s a blood feud now—father turned ghost, child born of the underworld. Their resentment will only feed off each other. He knows who killed him, so he won’t hurt his own child.”

“He doesn’t just hate Liu the Funeral Man, he hates everyone in the village by association. He wants nothing but to kill. There’s not a shred of human kindness left in him.”

Granny Li’s voice was grave, now calling me by name—a sign of how tense the situation had become.

“Ninth Uncle, if Xie Yuan’s mother isn’t here, does that mean we can’t fight back?” Granny Li’s tone wavered. “The ghost fetus and Xie Yuan’s father are together now. Liu the Funeral Man sides with the evil spirit, but since the ghost hasn't reincarnated, we still have the chance to defeat them one by one.”

Master Wang Jiu did not answer Granny Li directly. He only said quietly, “We need to get off this mountain. There are more ghosts here.”

Just then, Wang Erjun suddenly let out a terrified scream.

I jumped, whipping my head around to look. He’d fallen a few steps behind. As he stepped over a grave mound, a ghastly white skeletal hand burst from the earth and seized his ankle.

Wang Erjun’s face went deathly pale. In a flash, he swung his butcher’s knife—crack!—and the bony hand was severed. A muffled, anguished howl echoed from the grave.

He stumbled forward, fleeing to our side.

Master Wang Jiu’s voice was harsh. “Liu the Funeral Man must have taken some ghosts with him. He can control them, but some are hard to manage. His aim is to have the evil spirit reincarnate; a lot of villagers have died for that. The oldest, most powerful ghosts can tell right from wrong. They’ll follow the ghost fetus, not Liu the Funeral Man.”

“It’s going to be even harder to get down this mountain.”

As his words fell, I saw another grave mound not far down the path. An old ghost had already clawed half its body out and was staring at us, as if waiting for us to come closer.

Wang Erjun, panting, suddenly pulled a small bottle from his pocket—inside was blood, dark red and almost black.

Master Wang Jiu now held a handful of copper coins.

Granny Li whispered, “Child, stay close to me.” She still clutched her bamboo staff, the one used for the dead.

Sweat had soaked through my clothes, turning cold and clammy, sticking to my skin uncomfortably.

Wang Erjun smeared the black dog’s blood on his butcher’s knife and strode out in front.

I recognized the old ghost lurking by the grave—it was one that had chased us before.

We quickened our pace, descending faster.

Wang Erjun reached the grave. The old ghost, face twisted with hatred, grabbed at his leg. Without hesitation, Wang Erjun brought his knife down—one stroke, and the ghost’s head flew off, dissolving into smoke.

Master Wang Jiu kept tossing copper coins along the path.

I could see it clearly: mist was rising on the mountain, rolling toward us, but wherever the coins landed, the mist could not pass.

“If the ghostly fog forms completely, we’ll be trapped. Move!”

On the way down, Wang Erjun cut down at least a dozen old ghosts. By the time we neared the foot of the mountain, not a single spirit dared block our way.

Whether the remaining ghosts had followed Liu the Funeral Man or were too frightened to show themselves, I didn’t know.

Wang Erjun was pale as a sheet, gasping for breath and drenched in sweat. My heart pounded—at this rate, I doubted even the evil spirit could withstand his blade. The rest of the ghosts certainly stood no chance.

But suddenly, Wang Erjun staggered, his eyes rolling back as if he might faint.

“He’s slain too many ghosts—too much yin energy has invaded his body. We must find shelter, quickly,” Master Wang Jiu said gravely.

“Let’s go to my house,” I suggested, out of breath.

“No. The ghost fetus was born there, your father died there. The resentment is too strong. We’ll go to Fatty’s house—it’s already been cleared of ghosts,” Granny Li interjected.

Wang Erjun swayed again, barely keeping upright by bracing himself with his knife.

At last, we reached the edge of the mountain. By the earth god’s shrine, Master Wang’s spirit was gone, his corpse nowhere to be seen.

We dared not pause. Only when we’d gone far from the mountain did I look back. The rear slope was shrouded in ghostly fog, pierced by the sound of wailing spirits.

At Wang Erjun’s doorstep, he finally collapsed, still gripping his butcher’s knife even in unconsciousness. His face was ghostly white, his lips turning black.

“Child, hurry inside and lay your mother’s body down, then come help us carry Fatty inside,” Granny Li instructed.

Fear gripped me. I was terrified something would happen to Wang Erjun too.

Inside the courtyard, the air was much clearer, the coffin no longer menacing. I set my mother’s corpse on the floor of the main hall and rushed back to help carry Wang Erjun.

Master Wang Jiu and Granny Li, both elderly, struggled to lend much strength. Together, we brought Wang Erjun into the hall. Granny Li told me to fetch the rooster.

The rooster was still tied to Master Wang Jiu’s belt; he stood at the threshold, arranging the remaining copper coins densely across the ground.

I brought the rooster to Granny Li. She grabbed its head and pinched off a bit of its comb, drawing a bright red bead of blood.

She pressed the bleeding comb to Wang Erjun’s mouth, smearing the blood across his lips, then let go.

Strangely, the rooster didn’t struggle. After being bled, it slumped in the corner, motionless.

Worried, I asked Granny Li in a low voice if Wang Erjun would be all right.

She sighed. “His soul was battered by yin energy. The rooster’s blood will help—he’ll wake soon. But he can’t kill any more ghosts, or it may cost him his life.”

Finally, Master Wang Jiu joined us, putting away the bamboo staff and winding sheet, taking a deep breath. “There are no spirits here for now; the staff is no longer needed. Xie Yuan, I need you to summon your mother’s soul. While the ghosts haven’t caught up, we must find her.”

Granny Li’s expression was uneasy. “This is unusual. The ghost fetus is still on the mountain, but where are the evil spirit and Liu the Funeral Man?”

Master Wang Jiu’s voice was grim. “They must be hiding somewhere in the village. The ghost fetus is already hard enough to deal with. He’s preparing something—otherwise, it would be difficult to capture him. If we harm the ghost fetus, he’ll get his chance.”

He looked at me intently and handed me a dagger. “Cut your mother’s finger for a little blood, mix it with your own, smear it on your forehead, and go to the door to summon her soul. The summoning circle is set.”

Granny Li said nothing more.

I took the dagger, its cold handle making my heart shudder. Kneeling on the floor, I lifted my mother’s hand and cut her forefinger. The numbness of slicing flesh sent goosebumps across my skin. A drop of blackened blood oozed out.

I rubbed the blood on my finger, then cut my own forefinger. My fresh blood mingled with hers, turning a deep, dark red.

Following Master Wang Jiu’s instructions, I smeared the blood on my brow and stepped to the courtyard gate.

Was this the summoning circle on the ground?

I’d summoned Wang Erjun’s soul before, but this was different. My mother’s spirit was not the same—I didn’t understand these things. The blood on my brow made my head spin.

Taking a deep breath, I cried out into the night, “Mother!”

My voice echoed far into the distance.

I called again and again.

But to my growing unease, nothing happened. There was no reply, no sign of my mother’s spirit.

Suddenly, every copper coin on the ground stood upright.

On the earth nearby, words appeared:

“Child—come home alone, Mother is waiting for you at home—”

The message vanished in the next instant.

My expression changed. At that moment, Master Wang Jiu emerged and asked, “Did you see your mother?”

For some reason, I suddenly felt those words had been avoiding Master Wang Jiu. But what unsettled me more was—had my mother left that message, or was it another ghost?

Master Wang Jiu frowned deeply at me. Instinct made me shake my head.

Disappointment flashed in his eyes, but he took a deep breath and said, “Keep calling her soul. Perhaps she’s too far away, hasn’t heard, or hasn’t made it back yet.”