Chapter 69: Origin of the Nursery Rhyme: Yang Fire Protects the Body

Due to distance, Jamie and the other two returned to the estate first.

At this moment, Jamie, who had placed Billy in the car, did not notice that as he approached, sounds began to emerge from within the estate.

Before this, it had seemed utterly deserted.

“Dad?”

Ella pushed Edward, Jamie’s father, into the living room. “Jamie, what’s wrong? Who is this detective?”

“Dad, this is trouble I’ve stirred up—I need you to explain the nursery rhyme about Mary Shaw.”

Detective Warwick awkwardly greeted them.

Ella smiled and gave a slight nod.

Jamie briefly explained the situation.

Upon hearing this, Edward sighed. “Alright, the nursery rhyme and rumors about Mary Shaw are true.”

Warwick immediately frowned. “Sir, could you elaborate? This might be a copycat murder using a dead person’s name.”

“No, Detective, it’s all true.”

“Decades ago, Ravensfall was a thriving town. The townspeople pooled money to build a theater right in the center of Death Lake.”

“We hired a ventriloquist named Mary Shaw—her skill was extraordinary; she could produce dual voices so perfectly, it was indistinguishable from reality. Everything was fine until an accident occurred during a public performance: a boy pointed out she was moving her lips. You know what that meant for a ventriloquist. Fortunately, Mary Shaw used her dual-voice technique to salvage the show.”

As he spoke, no one noticed the strange anomaly in Edward’s throat, while Ella remained silent throughout.

“Just weeks later, the boy vanished. With only one suspect, his wealthy family dealt with Mary Shaw…”

Jamie struggled to speak. “You… lynched her?”

Warwick gasped, pressing himself against the wall. This was horrifying—he felt entangled in some conspiracy: family, townsfolk, vigilante justice, organized crime…

No one cared for him. Edward continued. “Yes—but not just us. Everyone in town did.”

“We made her scream, then cut out her tongue as punishment and revenge. But in the end, out of the last shred of mercy, we buried her along with her dolls, as she had wished.”

“Since then, the curse began. Everyone involved in that event died one by one—their tongues vanished, arranged into family portraits. Even their descendants met the same fate.”

“Our family was among the main perpetrators. That boy… was your great-uncle.”

“That’s why I never let you come home, Jamie.” Edward looked at Jamie with sorrow.

Jamie opened his mouth but could not speak.

“But… but…”

He still couldn’t accept it. If this were true, then Mary Shaw was avenging herself on his ancestors—what was this? What should he do?

“No ‘buts.’ He’s telling the truth—but there’s one thing he’s hiding.”

A calm voice spoke. Louis appeared at the doorway.

“Louis?” Jamie was stunned.

How did this child end up here?

Louis ignored him, instead fixing his gaze on Ella, a cold sneer curling his lips.

He didn’t remember the boy’s name—it was just a detail. He only recalled the gist: the boy’s corpse still lay in the theater. Mary Shaw killed him.

The townspeople were right to kill her back then!

“That boy? You killed him, old thing. Come out already!”

With that,

he blew out a breath.

A willow leaf, sharp as a blade, shot forth and struck Ella directly.

At such close range, Ella had no time to dodge.

The leaf pierced her brow, and bright red blood gushed out immediately.

But surprisingly, Mary Shaw did not appear—only Ella screamed, as if struck by an ordinary person. Even so, Ella still pushed Edward, never letting go.

“Aaaah!!”

Watching Ella scream, Jamie and Detective Warwick were at a loss.

This boy had just turned a leaf into a flying dagger—and what was this hidden truth he mentioned?

Seeing Louis injure someone, Warwick, bound by duty, reached for his gun—but Jamie gripped his arm tightly. Something was wrong. This boy was wrong. And Ella, his stepmother… could she be involved too?

Wait!

Dad was still with Ella!

Jamie turned urgently—then a gust of wind swept past. Louis had already charged forward, leaping and delivering a brutal kick.

Simultaneously, a slender dagger shot from his mouth, stabbing toward Ella’s head with lightning speed.

*Pthsh!*

At the critical moment, Ella’s head bent backward in an impossible angle—far beyond human capability!

Like… something stitched together.

She dodged the dagger, but its edge sheared off a chunk of flesh from her chest.

*Squelch!*

A chunk of meat fell, blood spattered the floor. Louis dodged aside, snatched the dagger, and launched a series of rapid strikes.

“Aaaahhh!! My perfect doll!”

“Brat, you’re asking for death!”

A hollow, layered, piercing scream echoed through the hall.

The next instant,

a figure with a ghastly, twisted face and long, black, razor-sharp nails burst from the curtain beside Louis and lunged forward.

Its mouth stretched endlessly, and from the pitch-black void emerged a tongue-like organ, as thick as an arm, woven from countless sticky, torn-out tongues, surging toward his face.

In a blink, it reached Louis’s side, aiming to engulf him.

Any normal person would scream.

*Boom!!*

Three invisible flames blazed fiercely on Louis’s shoulders and head, a pale golden light enveloping his body.

*Ding!!!*

*Sssss!*

Like a wild boar crashing into a steel cage, flames scorching long hair.

“Aaaahhh!!” “Ahh!!”

Two different screams rang out.

One was Mary Shaw’s cry of pain from being burned; the other was Detective Warwick, terrified by Mary Shaw suddenly emerging beside him.

Jamie, beside Warwick, shouted urgently, “Don’t scream!!”

Too late.

Mary Shaw moved swiftly, vanishing back to the curtain in a blink, then lunging to Warwick’s side, grabbing his tongue—*pshhh!*

Blood sprayed. One tongue split cleanly in two.

Just as Warwick was about to die, golden light flashed—a willow leaf shaped like a knife pierced Mary Shaw’s back from behind.

In an instant,

*Whoosh!!*

Thick black mist poured from the wound, drowning the golden glow of the willow knife. Before Louis could throw another blade, Mary Shaw shot him a venomous glance, then dissolved into mist and vanished through the window.

Mary Shaw was only one wall away. Even if Louis moved faster, he couldn’t throw another willow knife in time.

But it didn’t matter. Louis knew where she would go.

She had nowhere to run.

Twirling the slender dagger, Louis turned his gaze to Ella, now collapsed motionless on the floor, and Edward, who had uttered not a single sound since the beginning.

(End of Chapter)