Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 112: Puzzle of the Truth

Crack.

A tall, thin woman stepped back and accidentally crushed gravel underfoot in the tomb passage.

She clutched her paper lantern with such force her knuckles turned white. The flickering light couldn’t pierce the darkness. From that darkness, a slick dragging sound crept closer.

Raising the lantern in her left hand, she gripped a green jade pendant over her chest with her right. Her bracelet artifact was scalding hot, sending frantic warnings.

In the blink of an eye, all movement stopped—both footsteps and dragging.

The “thing” in the dark became visible: it looked like a skinned human, with teeth exposed and its eyes reduced to gory sockets. It dragged a sack-like object that, on closer inspection, turned out to be a nearly complete human skin.

The skin was stuffed with something unknown and was no longer human shaped. It was covered in mucus and bloodstains, like a rag doll that was crudely assembled.

The creature opened its tongueless mouth at her, releasing a sharp cry from deep in its throat. It sounded like a scream, or maybe a laugh.

A nauseating stench of rot and corpse poison hit her. She bit her tongue and spat blood onto the lantern, forcing out a barely stable “clean zone”.

Still gripping the jade pendant, she let a bronze dagger slide from her left sleeve. Her face was drenched in sweat.

Years ago, black Taoist priests performed spells regularly to maintain this holy land and ensured that the evil spirits here could be controlled. But ever since the site was sealed, there was no longer any maintenance, so those protections had collapsed.

In the years that followed, evil spirits had bred unchecked in the tomb, devouring each other. Any that survived were like lesser Ghost Lords.

The thing in front of her radiated yin and yang energy. She was sure she couldn’t win.

She should never have investigated alone. She should’ve regrouped with Mr. Cen.

If only…

A burst of white light flared without warning, nearly blinding her. When it dimmed, the evil spirit’s limbs and eyes were all sealed with yellow talismans. A spear of pure light had pierced through its chest.

Platinum-colored runes swirled around the spirit. Black smoke spewed from the spear wound like a burst dam. The creature shriveled rapidly, collapsing like an ice sculpture under sunlight.

Finally, with a crisp crack, it turned to motes of light, leaving behind only the bloated human-skin sack.

The entire encounter lasted less than two minutes.

“Mr. Cen!”

The woman turned in shock and relief.

The spear of light flew neatly back into Cen Ling’s hand. He spun it effortlessly and smiled reassuringly.

“You’ve done well,” he said gently. “The situation’s worse than expected. I should’ve come for you sooner.”

“I’m okay! Really. Everything else was minor. This one was just unusually hard to deal with.”

She hurried to explain. “It had traces of ghost immortal aura. My cultivation couldn’t suppress it…”

“This is likely due to the Grave-Sealing E.” Cen Ling helped steady her. “You did great. If you hadn’t held it off, I wouldn’t have had time to prepare that kind of spell.”

His tone and expression were warm, like he was talking to a real sister. “Thank you for your hard work. Take a break at the base.”

Cheng Songyun watched Cen Ling closely.

During the exchange, the light-spear disappeared into thin air. It was either a special magic weapon or one of Cen Ling’s anomalies.

Cheng Songyun knew Fang Xiu was powerful, but he relied more on intellect than brute strength.

Cen Lin was undoubtedly strong, but this strength was overwhelming. Just approaching that skinless creature had made her skin prickle painfully. But before it could act, Cen Ling had already neutralized it like it was nothing.

Not even the Zhuang Pengdao encounter had been this forceful.

“Wow, it’s full of chopped-up hands.” Bai Sui pried open the “skull cap” of the skin sack and exclaimed, “They’re all black and shriveled like cured meat. Gross.”

“The ghost hand that dragged that person off looked the same. They wouldn’t be breeding these things in bulk, right?”

He pulled out a Samadhi True Fire talisman from his pocket and tossed it onto the human skin bag.

“Ghost hand farm’s closed!” he cheered.

Cen Ling gave him a helpless look. “That’s enough. Get everyone back to base. We still need to check in on Mr. Bai.”

“Pfft. Boring,” Bai Sui muttered. “Fine, fine. Brothers and sisters come first. You are most important.”

“What about Brother Wu?” The woman seemed to be accustomed to Bai Sui’s nonsense.

“Brother Wu has returned to Guishan.” Cen Ling showed a flash of regret. “Another group went to investigate. We’ll know more once we’re back.”

The woman nodded. Walking beside Cen Ling, her fear vanished. She looked full of confidence. Cen Ling, for all his power, didn’t flaunt it. He simply retraced their path without hesitation.

Faced with a teammate like this, Cheng Songyun wasn’t sure how to feel.

Zhuang Pengdao also had his inhuman “rationality”, which repelled people. Cen Ling, by contrast, didn’t even seem like a cultist. The young man was warm, likable even.

But the grudge between Fang Xiu and Mei Lan wasn’t groundless.

So she kept quiet, taking it all in. Once Fang Xiu… once Bai Shuangying returned, this information would be useful.

“Heehee.”

Suddenly, a giggle came from the darkness behind them.

That voice was oddly familiar. Cheng Songyun froze mid-step while Mei Lan turned stiffly.

“Why are you setting fires in someone else’s home?” The voice continued, “You broke into my house and burned my pets. That’s just mean.”

Bai Sui recognized it too. “That’s Hong Shuangxi’s voice!”

Cen Ling stared at the darkness warily, aiming his light spear towards the sound.

Clatter. Something rolled from the dark.

A black ball came to a stop at their feet. The paper lantern lit up Fang Xiu’s face—no, it was a freshly severed head, cleanly cut, with a frozen smile.

“Isn’t that…”

Isn’t that the head Bai Shuangying had been carrying? Cheng Songyun’s scalp prickled.

What had happened to Fang Xiu? Where was Bai Shuangying? Were they both…?

“Run!” Mei Lan yanked Cheng Songyun back. She stumbled, then retreated several steps.

Cen Ling pointed his spear at the head, almost touching Fang Xiu’s nose. His expression was grim, trying to assess what he was seeing.

“Too cruel,” the head repeated, grinning. “Too cruel.”

Cen Ling: “Mr. Hong Shuangxi, do you still remember who I am?”

The head blinked, its mouth curling up. “Do you remember me?”

“If you have even a sliver of memory or consciousness, show it—otherwise, I’ll treat you as an enemy.”

“I’ll treat you as an enemy.” The head’s grin widened into an impossible arc, distorting its once-handsome features.

Bai Sui crept behind Cen Ling. “Cen Ge, it’s mimicking you!”

“Mimicking you.”

The head bobbed dangerously. “Really? Really?”

As soon as the voice fell, the entire head was covered with crimson ghost fire, lighting up the space. Cen Ling didn’t hesitate. He thrust the spear forward and impaled the head.

But unlike the earlier spirit, it didn’t burn. Instead, it burst into a shrill, unsettling laugh.

“…Gotcha.”

It stuck out its tongue.

That was the last thing it said.

The next moment, the woman Cen Ling had just saved collapsed.

Her neck was bent at an unnatural angle. While everyone had focused on the head, something had silently snapped it—like a magic trick.

As she fell to the ground, a ghost hand stuck out of her mouth. It forced her tongue down so she couldn’t make a sound.

She’d tried to activate a talisman in her hand, as if she was trying to save herself, but failed.

Shock flashed across Cen Ling’s face, quickly turning to rage.

“Run!” He quickly made a decision. This was obviously a trap set up by the other side. Fighting now was too dangerous.

From the darkness, another giggle.

More ghost hands crept out, slowly dragging the corpse into the shadows.

……

Base Camp.

Bai Shuangying was anxiously cradling a head when a group burst in.

Cen Ling’s face twitched when he saw the familiar head. Cheng Songyun sighed in relief—Fang Xiu’s real head was intact. So the other one must’ve been an illusion.

But why hadn’t the little black dog reacted?

In fact, the dog was wagging its tail gently at the head, brushing her arm. That was the only reason she hadn’t cast a spell.

Cheng Songyun couldn’t make sense of it.

Bai Shuangying, seeing the group’s expressions, protectively hugged the head. “Where’s the person you went to save?”

The four exchanged subtle looks. “……”

Way to hit the sore spot.

“We didn’t save her,” after a long while, Cen Ling finally said.

Bai Shuangying’s face twisted in mockery. He shot Cen Ling a look. “I confirmed the other one’s body. He was eaten by a demon hound. There was only scraps left.”

He omitted the part about seeing Fang Xiu directly. Guan He nodded along.

Cen Ling wasn’t surprised. “There are demon hounds in the tomb. If the body was devoured, it’d be hard to determine cause of death.”

Bai Sui peeked over. “So there’s just six of us left. Cen Ge, this is wild.”

“Bai Sui. Show some respect for the fallen.” Cen Ling sighed. He looked as if he was about get a headache. “Anyway, I’ve figured out a bit of their methods.”

Bai Shuangying paused his stroking of the head. “?”

“That thing is very clever. It knows how to manipulate people and avoids direct confrontation.”

It had gone after the most relaxed member—the woman who had just escaped danger. Not even Bai Sui had been that defenseless and she was weaker than him. It was a perfect target.

“It can probably disrupt spells, but its real strength isn’t that high. It relies on sneak attacks. If it had overwhelming power, it wouldn’t bother with tricks.”

Cen Ling’s tone sharpened. “From now on, no one should act alone. Stay alert. Most important: we need to flush it out.”

Bai Sui: “Hey, I’m on it! I’m great at this stuff. But Cen Ge, why’d it use Hong Shuangxi’s face? And where is Hong Shuangxi…?”

“Maybe to show it could replace people, stir up suspicion within our group.”

Cen Ling’s face darkened. “That’s just a guess. We don’t have enough data.”

“Either way, be mentally prepared. This is going to be a tough battle.”

……

At the stone coffin plaza.

Under ghost fire light, a jade pendant glowed dully.

Fang Xiu held the red cord, gently rocking it. He rested his cheek on one hand as he stared at the engraved “Guishan” symbol.

He had dumped the woman’s corpse into the water inside the stone coffin like discarded vegetables.

“When my head appeared, the two women recognized me. The two men didn’t.”

“When the lone woman was killed, the men reacted while the women didn’t have any special reaction.”

He sat on the coffin lid, muttering, “The two men are close, and don’t know ‘Fang Xiu’s’ real name…”

That kid’s comment had been interesting if he thought about it carefully.

If “Fang Xiu” was being hunted but couldn’t reveal his name, then the enemy likely didn’t know his face.

So, a stranger still hunting him meant either a personal connection, a hired killer, or gang vengeance.

Those group of people called each other brother and sisters, but they looked quite different, and they all wore matching “Guishan” pendant that irked him. One of the dead had claimed to be from the Guishan Sect. So…

“‘Fang Xiu’ came from outside, holds a grudge against Guishan, yet traveled here with their members.”

Fang Xiu calmly processed the info. “What a fun setup. So they have to cooperate despite the grudge. Why?”

Mid-thought, he grabbed his head and hissed.

Even after killing two intruders, his instincts screamed to murder all the living. It was a thirst from the depths of his soul that he could barely suppress.

…Don’t think. Don’t reason. Just kill.

…Destroy them. Crush them. Erase them.

Fang Xiu rubbed his temples hard, then rolled up his sleeve and looked at the bloody words. “Mine, Bai Shuangying.”

Just picturing that awkwardly handsome young man cleared the fog a little.

That guy matched his aesthetic perfectly. The blood writing had to be his own work. Yes—he didn’t belong here. He didn’t need to feel guilt over the urge to kill.

…He just had to trust the hint.

If he couldn’t hold back, he’d start with the Guishan people. That couldn’t be wrong. And meanwhile, he had to find a way to return to “normal”.

Tracing the scars on his arm, he thought carefully.

“Hmm. Maybe I should drag Bai Shuangying back and ask directly…”

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The author has something to say:

This time the boss is solving riddles (Xiao Bai: what about me?)

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