Chapter 6: The Secret Rite of the Wángliǎng Womb

“I don’t need you to manage me!”

A shrill, piercing voice spread through the surroundings.

Li Lin frowned; he could sense that more “resentment” was gathering from afar.

“Xiumiang, if you don’t go back now, you won’t be able to leave.”

“I won’t go back!”

Xiumiang suddenly screamed at Li Lin with even greater volume.

“I don’t want to return to that poor, broken place,” she said, glaring at Li Lin as she stepped backward: “My real name isn’t Xiumiang—I’m the daughter of the Zhou family, I’m Zhou Xiuqing, and I won’t be called Xiumiang anymore.”

Li Lin narrowed his eyes.

Her current attitude made it clear she had no intention of cooperating.

And with their voices spreading, more and more “ghosts” were gathering toward this place.

Under normal circumstances, these weak, petty wild ghosts had little deterrent power.

But the problem was… there were too many.

And they were invisible—because they were too weak to be seen.

Most Spirit Hunters couldn’t see them either; only those with special abilities, like the Heavenly Eye, could perceive them.

Besides, Li Lin had heard that even those with the Heavenly Eye disliked activating such abilities in the wild at night—apparently, seeing too many was nauseating.

Since she refused to cooperate, he’d have to be forceful.

He had come out to bring her back.

He dismounted from his donkey and said: “Going back to Feirong County won’t help—there’s no one left in the Zhou family except you.”

“No, I still have Qin Lang,” Xiumiang sobbed. “He promised me an eight-person palanquin, a proper wife’s status!”

“Do you believe what a ghost says?”

“He’s not a ghost!”

Li Lin raised his hand and slapped her across the face.

The woman was stunned into silence.

“Still holding out?” Li Lin stared coldly at her. “Do you know that to beg me to save you, three men from the Wu family knelt on the ground?”

Xiumiang froze.

“You have ten breaths to decide,” Li Lin said, watching her. “If you don’t come with me now, I can’t protect you.”

On her darkened face, hesitation flickered; she instinctively stepped farther away, afraid he’d slap her again.

As if recalling the family affection the Wu household had shown her over the past decade, her eyes grew clear and calm.

But at that moment, beyond the red glow of the White Jade Tablet, a faint shadow called out: “Xiumiang, where are you? Where are you? I’ve already prepared the eight-person palanquin—waiting only for the bride.”

“Qin Lang!”

Hearing the voice, Xiumiang turned and dashed outward.

Li Lin cursed inwardly, lunged forward two steps, and reached out to grab her.

But Xiumiang had retreated several paces earlier—there was now distance. She stood at the edge of the red light, and as she ran out, she escaped its coverage.

Li Lin took two steps forward, then stopped.

He watched as Xiumiang sank back into the ghost’s illusion.

She began acting mad, wild, unrestrained.

Around her, the gathering ghosts had multiplied—dense, countless, watching him beyond the red glow. Though Li Lin couldn’t see them, he sensed them.

Moreover, the previously silenced murmurs of the ghostly voices were growing louder again.

The red glow of the White Jade Tablet flickered erratically.

If he delayed further, he wouldn’t just fail to save her—he’d die here himself.

After all, he was only a novice Spirit Hunter.

He took a long look at Xiumiang nearby, then took a black thin blanket from his donkey’s back, wrapped it around himself, and the red glow of the White Jade Tablet vanished. The murmurs around him erupted violently.

Then Li Lin rolled over, tumbling off the country path into a patch of tall grass, where a small tree pressed against his back.

He crouched there.

【Stealth +1】

【Stealth +1】

【Stealth +1】

【Stealth +1】

As a Spirit Hunter, and one officially recognized by the government, he enjoyed many privileges.

For example, fifty catties of blood rice each month.

For example, the black thin blanket he’d just used—the Ghost-Shielding Cloak.

This wasn’t ordinary material; its exact composition and manufacturing process were classified secrets. Its function was to drastically reduce the chance of being detected by ghosts when worn at night.

Of course… it was nearly useless against ghosts with exceptional spiritual power.

But combined with Li Lin’s practiced “Stealth Technique,” the effect was unmistakable.

When Li Lin rolled off the path, several ghosts could still “see” him.

But once he crouched, not a single ghost could detect him.

The ghosts searched nearby for a while, couldn’t find Li Lin, and, lacking sufficient spiritual awareness, drifted toward Xiumiang.

Xiumiang had changed—her belly swelled as if inflated, her face filled with maternal tenderness as she caressed it endlessly.

Soon, she screamed in agony—and soon after, a transparent ghost-child was born.

Xiumiang’s belly deflated.

Before she could catch her breath, her belly swelled again; screaming, she gave birth to another ghost-child.

These two ghost-children were clearly stronger than the others—Li Lin could now see their forms.

The two ghost-children floated above Xiumiang, holding hands, mouths stretched wide enough to swallow a melon!

Then… Xiumiang’s belly swelled again.

Her hair had turned mostly white, her skin lost its luster, becoming wrinkled and dry.

Xiumiang screamed again—this time, she had awakened from the illusion.

Seeing the two ghost-children floating above, she cried out: “Someone save me! Who will save me? Ah… I want to go home… home!”

Then she screamed again, as her belly swelled once more.

Simultaneously, her appearance aged rapidly.

The Secret Rite of the Wángliǎng Womb.

Li Lin sighed inwardly and slowly closed his eyes.

He shut out the world.

And the 【Stealth +1】 prompt kept flashing furiously.

After a long time, dawn broke.

When sunlight touched Li Lin’s face, he opened his eyes.

The ghosts had vanished; he felt his feet were nearly numb.

He pushed himself up with the nearby tree, stood in place for over a dozen breaths, then slowly regained feeling in his feet.

After waiting longer, he could finally shuffle his legs forward.

On the country path, Xiumiang was dead—no flesh or blood remained, only a bleached skeleton and a tattered dress.

“Why? You knew the night was dangerous—why did you run out?”

Li Lin sighed, picked up a stick nearby, scooped Xiumiang’s bones into her dress, bundled the clothing into a pack, and slung the bones over his shoulder.

Then he found his little donkey grazing not far away.

Ghosts were only interested in humans.

Li Lin rode the donkey back to the village.

Wu Shu and Wu Shen, along with many villagers, waited anxiously at the village entrance; seeing only Li Lin return, Wu Shen fainted immediately.

The scene was utterly silent—only the sound of a nearby stream flowed.

Li Lin handed the bundle to Wu Shu: “Too late. She’s inside.”

Wu Shu recognized his daughter’s clothes; he trembled as he took the bundle: “Thank you, Li Xun…”

He closed his eyes, unable to speak further.

Wu Shu didn’t cry, but several nearby aunts began weeping.

They were all villagers, always seeing each other daily—within a single night, Xiumiang, a living woman, had become a small bundle.

Many couldn’t bear it.

Li Lin didn’t go home directly—he went to the village’s central altar.

“Tree Immortal Lady, why did Xiumiang run outside?” Li Lin’s expression was puzzled. “Don’t tell me… you know nothing!”

The Gowned Apparition smiled, bent down, embraced Li Lin’s left arm, her forked tongue hissing.

(End of Chapter)