Underworld Corpse Duel, Chapter 9

(With heartfelt thanks to ‘Ice Cube’ for the generous tip and monthly votes.)

This is utterly ridiculous. Suddenly, I felt the urge to rush back into that room for another look. Just then, Yao Hui tugged at my arm.

I turned to see her giving me a subtle signal. Following her gaze, I glanced down the road to the west, and immediately spotted a group of people approaching.

My first instinct was that they were my father and his companions. But upon closer inspection, I didn’t recognize a single one of them.

The reason I had that impression was because the seven or eight people were dressed as plainly as my father’s group—very simple attire. Yet, each of them carried an aura unlike ordinary folk, and several left a deep impression at first sight. Walking together, their collective presence was strikingly conspicuous.

They stopped at the roadside, all eyes fixed on the door of the middle-aged woman’s house.

It was still before dawn, but a middle-aged man at the front had already opened a large black umbrella. Unlike Yao Hui’s Hermès black umbrella, this was an old-fashioned big black umbrella, spacious enough to shelter three people comfortably.

What set it apart was the string of small copper bells hanging along its edge. The morning breeze caused them to jingle softly, lending an almost ancient, mystical air when seen from afar.

The umbrella wasn’t held by the man himself but sheltered an elderly figure. This old man was about the same height as Fatty, sturdy with long gray-white hair slicked back smoothly. His beard was finely groomed into a full circle around his chin, adding to his distinguished bearing, further accentuated by a unique short purple Tang jacket.

Judging by their demeanor, it seemed they intended to enter the house. I hastily pulled Yao Hui onto the narrow path leading into the village.

Only when we were farther away did I stop and look back, noticing that among the group, a young man was already knocking on the door.

He knocked three times. No one answered; no one came to the door. Then, he returned to the old man and spoke a few words. The old man merely nodded slightly, and the young man led two others straight into the middle-aged woman’s house.

Before long, the three burst out of the house, faces pale with terror. The young man whispered into the old man’s ear, causing the latter to freeze momentarily. Then, after speaking to the others, everyone except the old man and the umbrella holder filed in.

The last person closed the door behind them. The old man glanced twice, then turned and, accompanied by the jingling bells, left.

My mind raced—could this be that old scoundrel who did business with the middle-aged woman?

“Yuan Jie, what’s going on?” Yao Hui asked again.

“Let’s not talk about that now. We need to hurry to Wenxing Village.” I felt something was off; aside from everything else, I couldn’t handle this girl beside me. If we didn’t meet up with my father and the others soon, there’d be more trouble ahead.

We rushed toward the village entrance, where I finally saw a concrete road hidden behind a stone tablet. Taking advantage of the cool morning, I planned to follow the road and, if we encountered any vehicles, no matter who they were, I’d throw money at them to get a ride to Wenxing Village.

Just as I thought this, a motorcycle roared up behind us.

Excited, I flagged it down. The driver looked half-awake, rubbing his eyes as I flashed five crisp bills before him.

“To Wenxing Village,” I said directly.

The driver smiled, took one of my large bills, and handed me a fifty-yuan note in return.

“Get on.”

I felt a little embarrassed but helped Yao Hui onto the bike.

Before I knew it, we arrived at Wenxing Village. The place was bustling. Although old houses surrounded us, the atmosphere was noticeably more pleasant. It was just dawn, yet tourists had already arrived, mostly elderly folks and some bespectacled people who looked like researchers.

Eager to find my father, I weaved through the clusters of ancient residences, gravitating toward where the crowd gathered. If not for the curious glances and expressions around me, I might have forgotten that Yao Hui and I still smelled strongly of alcohol.

Yao Hui seemed embarrassed but didn’t want to disturb me.

After apologizing to her, we booked a room at a local inn.

I had wanted to book two rooms, but Yao Hui insisted on just one, telling the clerk so. I didn’t argue.

Once inside, Yao Hui immediately began undressing. I was momentarily stunned, watching her stand naked before me. She paid no mind to my gaze and reached out to start removing my clothes.

“The smell of the alcohol is so strange. Let’s wash it off quickly,” she said, pulling me toward the bathroom.

As a man, sharing a bath like this was naturally a dream come true. Yet, thinking back to last night’s events, I felt uneasy.

But then I recalled how she had confided in me about her unusual fondness for snakes, and how I said I didn’t mind. So why was I feeling this way now?

In the bathroom, Yao Hui was stunning. I felt that even the finest jade in the world would be an insult to the fairness of her skin. Seeing her oblivious to last night’s memories, I felt a pang of pity and instinctively pulled her close.

What followed happened naturally.

Lying together on the bed, Yao Hui slept deeply, a captivating smile lingering on her face.

I couldn’t help but caress her delicate form. Apart from her hair and eyebrows, Yao Hui’s skin was impeccably clean. My hands were guided not by lust, but by pure admiration. From her waist to her breasts, from her neck to her back, the sensations my fingertips received were beyond words.

Suddenly, Yao Hui stirred. Thinking she was waking, I turned to look at her face. But her expression remained peaceful, still sound asleep.

I dismissed it and was about to think how to find my father, when Yao Hui’s leg moved again.

It was as if she were kicking something away, her toes pointed rigidly. Honestly, her movements nearly broke my composure, and I chuckled to myself, wondering if she was dreaming of being with me.

But then, when I glanced at her face again, I screamed and tumbled to the floor beside the bed.

Silently, as Yao Hui’s leg moved, the skin on her face began to split apart—as if sawed in half—dividing into two halves that slowly slid downward.

When her facial skin reached her neck, I saw beneath it her sleeping face, eyes closed, looking somehow younger and with even smoother, more pristine skin.

“Molting... no, really... molting?” I widened my eyes in disbelief.

Yao Hui’s shed skin was kicked gently toward the edge of the bed. Everything was so quiet, as if water were sliding off her body.

The intact human skin lay in a heap at her feet, sending chills down my spine. Whether by coincidence or not, one of the eyes on the shed skin stared fixedly at me.

It was utterly eerie, as if Yao Hui’s skin had been peeled off alive, eyes still attached. Could her eyes really regenerate?

This was bone-chilling. Yet, perhaps because of our relationship, I remained relatively calm.

Looking from Yao Hui to the pile of skin, I suddenly felt this was something she must never know. There would be no good from that.

But her skin was right there. What was I to do?

Scanning the surroundings, I suddenly made a decision that sent a shiver down my spine.

Trembling, I finished a cigarette and clenched my teeth hard. Then, I slowly approached the pile of Yao Hui’s shed skin.

I gently picked it up and went into the bathroom, locking the door behind me.

Turning on the faucet, I spread out the human skin in my hands.

Yao Hui appeared suddenly before me, as if crushed by some force, trembling violently. But I suppressed the urge to scream, placing the skin on the floor.

Then, I crouched and grasped the leg portion of the skin.

Tearing off the first piece almost brought me to tears. The dread, the disgust, the sheer evilness overwhelmed my mind. But soon, I grew numb. Like peeling layers of a pancake, I began tearing the skin apart piece by piece.

Each torn piece I tossed casually into the toilet.

The skin wasn’t thin; it clung with oil and grease, making it difficult to tear. But by then, I must have been mad, as I continued until Yao Hui’s entire skin was ripped into fragments.

When only her face remained in my hands, I finally vomited.

I couldn’t bring anything else up. Dazed, I don’t even recall how I stuffed the strands of hair into the toilet.

After flushing it all away, I shivered in the bathroom for half an hour, then frantically scrubbed the toilet.

Stepping out of the bathroom, fear gripped my heart.

I was terrified I might suddenly see a bed soaked in blood and flesh, scared the entire ordeal was a hallucination, or that I had gone mad, killed Yao Hui, and stripped her skin...

Yet, seeing the pure, jade-like Yao Hui lying peacefully on the bed, those thoughts seemed unreal—and that terrified me even more.

If Fatty had encountered this, he might have just raised his gun and treated her like a monster.

I walked over to the bed, dressed, and sat on a nearby chair, chain-smoking.

At that moment, I thought of Fatty, of Peanut, of my father and the others, of Zhuge Xuan... I was scared.

Then, I slapped myself hard, muttering, “Yuan Jie, you can’t be this useless. What’s this compared to what you might face? If this happened to you, what would you do? Help Yao Hui—you have to help her.”

I forced myself into a trance of resolve, willing myself to face whatever came next.

Suddenly, the phone beside me rang.

I picked it up absentmindedly.

“Hello? Who is this?” I said, my throat dry.

A chuckle came through the line. “It’s me.”

I immediately perked up, rising from the chair.

“Er Lengzi? How did you get this number?”

(To be continued...)

P.S. A newcomer with a warrior’s heart. To chase this dream, Old Bei swears never to retreat. “Monthly votes! Please support!” Though knowing battle means death, still we fight!