Chapter 175: (For aa Sangsang aa's Crown Donation Extra) Guozhong's Negotiation

Liu Guozhong clasped his fists and said, "Old branch secretary, it's not that Mengyong bears a grudge. It's just that this ghost is truly excessive; if we don't find a way to settle things today, I fear more villagers will fall victim to him tomorrow."

The old branch secretary thought it over and felt Liu Guozhong's words were quite reasonable. He then instructed Liu Guozhong, "Since Brother Yong has a plan in mind, just do as he says! But this matter must be kept secret; if word reaches the superiors, neither of us will escape a thought-reform session."

Liu Guozhong clasped his fists solemnly and said, "Please rest assured, branch secretary, Mengyong understands."

The next morning, Liu Guozhong and several fellow villagers skilled in work took half a day off from the production team, picked up their tools, and headed straight for the Ku Jing.

Having barely escaped with his life the previous night, Liu Guozhong now returns to the Ku Jing—what could be his purpose? What were he and the old branch secretary whispering about, and what are they preparing to do?

After a moment, Liu Guozhong's purpose became clear on paper.

He was seen inserting three incense sticks before the Ku Jing, kneeling and kowtowing a few times, then telling his brothers to ready their tools and begin pumping water out of the Ku Jing.

About half an hour later, the water in the Ku Jing was completely drawn out; Liu Guozhong personally descended with a fishing net and hauled up a large pile of bones.

All told, these skeletal remains numbered several dozen, but piled together in the same Ku Jing it was impossible to tell whose bones were whose.

Yet Liu Guozhong, bold as he was, had the idea of aiming at the Thousand Corpse Ghost's remains—perhaps unwilling to accept his fate, he had come seeking revenge against the Thousand Corpse Ghost.

However, the reason was not so.

After hauling up a large pile of white bones, Liu Guozhong knelt down heavily, lit three sticks of pure incense, and then, kneeling thus, spoke loudly toward the bone pile:

"I, Liu Guozhong, courtesy name Mengyong, an unrefined martial ruffian of the jianghu, have today hauled up the young lady's remains; this is my sole idea. If the lady wishes to blame anyone, let her seek me, Mengyong alone, and not my companions."

After the opening remarks, Liu Guozhong paused, clasped his fists again with a more reverent tone, and got straight to the point: "Mengyong came here today not to offend the lady intentionally. Though I, Liu Mengyong, am poorly educated, I know the principle that dust returns to dust, earth to earth, and that grudges should be settled with the debtor. If the lady seeks revenge, she ought to go after those who plotted her death that day. Why linger in the human world, taking the lives of innocent villagers?"

The lady Liu Guozhong referred to was naturally the concubine killed by the principal wife that day. After his questioning finished, the surroundings fell silent at once, save for the few sturdy men standing behind Liu Guozhong, whose heavy breathing from excessive tension rustled through the Zhu Lin.

Meanwhile, the Ku Jing before Liu Guozhong was a mound of motionless white bones, utterly silent.

Liu Guozhong continued to plead while kneeling: "Lady, you have lingered in the mortal world for many years, harming enough people; surely your resentment should have faded. If you still harbor anger, I, Liu Mengyong, here represent those who harmed you in the past, and I will knock my head a hundred times to atone. Mengyong is no Daoist, I know no talismans to exorcise ghosts; I only hope you will cease your slaughter of the innocent villagers."

Having spoken, Liu Guozhong paid no heed to anything else, planted his hands on the ground, and began knocking his forehead repeatedly against the bone pile with loud thuds.

He knocked a full hundred times until his forehead was scraped raw; then Liu Guozhong brushed off the dust from his clothes and rose to his feet.

Yet the bone pile remained unmoving, showing not the slightest reaction—no chill wind, not even a hint of a breeze.

At that moment, a fellow villager nudged Liu Guozhong and whispered, "Brother Yong, perhaps we should just go back. Think about it—we and she live in different worlds; how could she possibly listen to us? Besides, she does evil, and we can't do anything about her."

"Shut up—I, Liu Mengyong, will draw a line today: if we can talk, we talk; if not, I'll fight." Liu Guozhong glared at the villager and snarled, "Even if I have to risk my life today, I will find her and get a clear answer."

Having said that, Liu Guozhong picked up the shoulder pole, gave the ground a hard shake, glared at the bone pile, and declared: "Today, Liu Mengyong will, according to jianghu rules, draw a line for the lady. If she promises to stop harming people and be reborn properly, I will observe full rites and send gold foil and paper money. If she refuses, I will set up a shelter beside the Ku Jing and dwell there; each time she appears, I will strike her once with my family's Liu staff technique, and unless I, Liu Mengyong, die, I will never stand by and watch you harm others."

Just then, the pile of bones beside the Ku Jing cracked with a pop, scattering on the ground, and a skull with a darkened forehead tumbled out from the remains. Its two hollow, dark eyes, like those of a living person, stared fixedly at Liu Guozhong.

Though startled, Liu Guozhong guessed this must be the master of the Ku Jing, the Thousand Corpse Ghost that has been wreaking havoc in the Zhu Lin.

Liu Guozhong thought so because he had a feeling. Aside from the nameless wandering souls who died there, the only ones familiar with the Thousand Corpse Ghost in the Ku Jing are the escaped Aunt Wang and himself.

When the skull rolled out from the bones, Liu Guozhong jerked in surprise, and immediately a feeling welled up in his heart identical to that night in the Ku Jing.

It was her!

Thinking this, Liu Guozhong took a deep breath, stepped forward with the shoulder pole, and shouted at the darkened skull, "Lady, give me a word—will you agree or not?"

After asking, Liu Guozhong stood before the skull with the shoulder pole, gazing at it in silence. After a moment, he finally realized the problem.

It seemed… the skull before him was merely bone, incapable of speech.

The foolish Liu Guozhong suddenly came to his senses, glanced around the empty surroundings, and said to the skull, "Lady, would this work? If you agree, let a black feather fly over my head; if you refuse, let a chill wind rise in the Zhu Lin. Show me what you mean, somehow."

In the dialect of a certain southern region, "black feather" means crow. Since ancient times, the most spiritually attuned beasts have been cats, dogs, and oxen; the most spiritually attuned birds have been owls and crows.

But after Liu Guozhong finished speaking, the skull simply remained still there. A stalemate lasted over ten minutes; the surroundings stayed as silent as before, with no chill wind and no crow flying overhead.

After half an hour, Liu Guozhong also gave up, recognizing this laughable fact.

He sighed wearily, turned around, and waved at the men nearby: "Forget it, I see this is going nowhere. Let's pool our strength and bury these remains. After all, the dead must return to earth for peace; leaving them exposed to sun and rain would weigh on our consciences."

The villagers all stepped forward, picked up their shovels, and were about to begin digging graves.

Just then, a sudden raucous "gua!" cried out from behind. Everyone jerked their heads up and looked toward the sound.

Not far off, a jet-black crow perched on a bamboo stalk, seemingly spiritually aware as it locked eyes with Liu Guozhong, then let out another loud "gua!", spread its sooty wings, gave a little hop, and shot like an arrow toward the distant sky.

As the crow swept over Liu Guozhong's head, a tiny droplet fell from the sky. At first he paid it little heed, but after the crow flew off he sensed something was off.

Something sticky clung to his face. Liu Guozhong wiped his forehead and came away with a bit of black, gloomy substance like mud.

He brought his hand close and sniffed, but still recovering from a serious illness, his nose was a bit stuffed, so he couldn't immediately tell what the substance was.

At that moment, the foolish Liu Guozhong did something no one expected—as if inspired by nature or some unseen force—he brought the finger stained with the black substance to his lips and lightly licked it with his tongue.

Liu Guozhong slapped his thigh and suddenly realized: the substance on his face… was a lump of crow droppings.

………… After a moment, Liu Guozhong noticed something even more amiss.

His companions standing nearby twitched their faces, each covering their mouths. They clearly wanted to laugh, but holding it in was agonizing.

In an instant… the tearful Liu Guozhong's face sank as black as a pot lid. No, rather, his face sank as black as crow droppings.