Chapter 43: Ghost Shadow Inn

Wu Xian left.

With her back to Wu Xian, the left half of Su Huilan’s face, hidden in shadow, streamed with snot and tears, her expression twisted as she screamed at Wu Xian with all her might.

“I want to get out!”

“I don’t want to stay here!”

“I let you use the Yajiao Spear—you owe me! Get me out now!”

But Wu Xian heard none of her voice; her right half-face curled into a venomous smile.

“Sister!”

Wei Chao had once told him his findings.

Then she saw her daughter lying on the ground, and the two corpses of the guests—she let out a piercing scream.

The plan to profit from the blessed land was officially shattered.

“Don’t be afraid. I just have a few questions for you.”

It was off-season, so many rooms in the inn were empty; with An Xin watching downstairs, the mother and daughter could finally relax.

Wu Xian seemed to step into the torrent of time; events that had once occurred in this blessed land unfolded before him in reverse order.

Another piece of merchandise had been acquired.

Wang Zhiwu’s corpse lay on the ground; Wu Xian caught the unconscious girl.

“Hey, hello!”

“Hey, you might not know me, but seeing you makes me incredibly, incredibly happy.”

The scene was harmonious and beautiful.

“I… what the fuck?”

He didn’t know why he had appeared here, but he knew exactly what he wanted to do right now.

Wu Xian smiled broadly.

…

Thud.

With Wu Xian’s sharp senses.

If Shi Ji had been severely injured, Wu Xian might have risked a rescue—but Su Huilan? No. Saving this woman might just get him stabbed in the back.

“So killing them both ends the scene? I should’ve tied them up and tortured them first…”

Since stepping through that door.

But the clothes Wu Xian had worn when emerging from the blessed land remained intact, sparing him the humiliation of being clad in paper garments.

Wang Zhiwu forced a smile: “I… too…”

A shrill, agonized scream echoed endlessly within the blessed land.

If Wu Xian had any regret within the blessed land, it was that he had never seen the true face of the Ghost Mother Searching for Her Child.

Yu Yinghua, stripped of trust, was sealed alive in cement by the paranoid Wang Zhiwu.

Her body split down the middle; countless tiny teeth began devouring the other half—blood, muscle, fat, bone, even the filth in her intestines—all of Su Huilan was consumed by the other side.

Unfortunately, Wu Xian hadn't had time to ask when his body gradually turned into a wisp and vanished completely, leaving him to regretfully clutch his forehead.

Someone outside was playing the “clapping game.”

But this “clapping game” was not terrifying—it was a warm mother-daughter ritual: the mother, beautiful and gentle, the daughter lively and adorable—Lu Yao and her daughter An Xue.

“Ahh!!!”

The reversed timeline finally halted on that day.

Wu Xian smiled and greeted her, then shot her down, walked over slowly, stepped on her skull, and emptied the entire magazine without blinking.

He had certainly noticed Su Huilan’s anomaly—otherwise he would’ve taken the Yajiao Spear out of the blessed land.

The desperate woman, unable to bear the loss of her child, gradually went mad…

Wang Zhiwu fell silent, sweat instantly drenching his face—a sharp dagger pressed against his jaw.

On the other side, Lu Yao still circled nearby, following the sound of clapping.

Wu Xian frowned, scanning his surroundings.

Yu Yinghua, who had lured Lu Yao from afar, saw this scene and froze in disbelief—then charged at Wu Xian in fury.

Zhao Juan, come to extort money, was forced by Wang Zhiwu to hang herself.

He first checked the items he had brought out of the blessed land—all had turned into white origami; Wu Xian cursed loudly.

In this world, those killed by malevolent spirits could themselves become new malevolent spirits.

That was the beginning of it all.

Lu Yao had her eyes covered; her daughter hid in a room, clapping to attract her mother’s attention, occasionally giggling as she watched her mother’s clumsy movements.

From her perspective, this man had killed her guests and knocked her daughter unconscious—he was an absolute monster, the kind only seen in news reports.

Additionally, the weapons and tools he had brought into the blessed land from outside—the phone, the pistol, various items—all reverted from origami to their normal forms.

Su Huilan had forgotten.

“Sister is right here. Why do you want to leave? Stay with me.”

Lu Yao was startled by the sudden gunshot.

On a desolate land, the last living person was devoured by ghosts and malevolent spirits;

A mad woman wandering the streets was secretly dragged into a man’s home by a lecherous stranger—and the world’s first malevolent spirit was born from endless despair and hatred…

Then why did Wu Xian do nothing?

He was scared too!

Watching Wu Xian’s vanishing figure.

“Letting you die like this is too kind—but I’m in a hurry.”

The terrified mother gradually calmed down.

But Wu Xian had no interest in thinking about her now.

He was still in Room 404.

…

“I don’t want to be reborn in your belly. You come into mine instead—then we’ll be together forever.”

“Get out of the way! The child’s unconscious—I’m taking her—”

After years of caring for his insane wife, An Xin’s body finally gave out; Wang Zhiwu and his wife bought the Ping’an Inn and expelled the mad woman.

All of this, Wu Xian witnessed.

Suddenly a hand reached from behind, covering the daughter’s face with a towel; she struggled for two seconds before fainting—Wang Zhiwu smirked.

Ping’an Inn.

Wu Xian checked everything thoroughly, then quietly opened the door.

She blinked, realizing she could no longer recall what had just happened.

He had no divine offerings left—how could he fight a malevolent spirit? Could he really poke her with a spirit incense stick?

She failed to notice that the clapping now came not from her daughter, but from Yu Yinghua, whose face was fierce and menacing.

He stared at Lu Yao’s face, twisting it in his mind to satisfy his morbid curiosity—his gaze terrified Lu Yao into pale horror.

Puff!

Wu Xian applied slight pressure—the dagger pierced straight through the jaw into the brain. He withdrew it gracefully, wiping it clean on Wang Zhiwu’s clothes.

Wang Zhiwu slung An Xue over his shoulder like a sack of grain; as he turned, he saw a curly-haired man with dark circles under his eyes.

Sunlight streamed through the clean window, illuminating the green potted plant by the sill. The room was still small, but now clean and cozy, infused with the scent of life.

One by one, Wu Xian witnessed many things.

Wu Xian crouched down; Lu Yao retreated step by step.

He immediately displayed an expression of frantic urgency—his acting exploded.

No one noticed.

Beneath Yu Yinghua’s corpse, a wretched shadow began to grow, seeping beneath the floor of the Ping’an Inn…

(End of Chapter)