Chapter 338: with translation of chapter title

Next morning, I said goodbye to Yao Yirong and her brother with Pangzi, taking the umbrella that held Murong Jia Jia and boarding the train back to Shenzhen. As we were about to leave, Pangzi kept calling out affectionately, "Stationery brother," his tone so warm it almost made me think Pangzi had become Yao Wenju's brother-in-law overnight.

On the train, I told Pangzi Murong Jia Jia's identity. After hearing it, Pangzi was also curious, clamoring to open the umbrella to see what Murong Jia Jia looked like. But there were so many people on the train, I definitely couldn't open the umbrella. Moreover, Murong Jia Jia had stayed that long in a lightless basement; upon going outside she'd need to adjust.

Later, Pangzi stopped fussing, because he was too exhausted to kick up a fuss. He collapsed in the carriage and fell into a loud snore. After all those days of turmoil, my spirit was utterly fatigued; leaning against Pangzi's shoulder, I also fell asleep with a loud snore.

After returning home, Pangzi and I didn't eat anything, then fell asleep headfirst. When we woke up, it was already seven o'clock the next morning.

With nothing to do, Pangzi went ahead to Chan Yi Hall, while I stir-fried some dried radish to mix with congee.

Thinking that I hadn't offered incense to Little Fat for so many days, I prepared to light a stick of incense for him. However, just as I lit the yellow incense, the table beside me suddenly gave two shakes. I turned and saw the vibration coming from the piece of nether jade that held Hong Nainai; the tremor was obvious, shaking the whole table.

Seeing this, I muttered to Hong Nainai in my heart: "If you have something to say, just say it straight; is it necessary to shake twice to remind me?"

In my view, perhaps too many things had happened before, causing me to continually overlook her and forget to offer her incense, so she grew resentful toward me in her heart.

All you need to do is speak up; I haven't sealed you with a talisman.

I shook my head, gave a helpless smile, and said to the nether jade: "Hong Nainai, if you have something to say, just say it; why throw a tantrum like a child?"

However, after saying that, I only then noticed the strangeness of the nether jade. Hong Nainai heard my words but did not emerge, and the jade pendant kept trembling nonstop, as if it were telling me of its unease.

I reached out to touch the pendant, and the sensation gave me a start. A bone‑chilling cold spread through my arm to my body, making me shiver instantly, as if I were standing in an ice cavern of minus‑ten‑something degrees.

This chill carried a thick yin qi, and I was immediately startled. I hastily activated my Seal Finger, drew a Maoshan Sect golden light talisman, and placed it upon the nether jade.

As mentioned before, the Yinshan method combines the teachings of Puan, Lushan, and Maoshan into its own lineage, so Yinshan Sect disciples are somewhat familiar with the arts of those three schools. Moreover, the golden light talisman is an introductory Daoist Sect talisman—simple yet most effective at dispelling yin qi.

When I placed the golden light talisman upon the nether jade, I was startled again. The yin qi on the nether jade was several times denser than I had imagined; a single golden light talisman could only weaken it a bit, not dispel it completely.

"What on earth is going on? How could there be such intense yin qi on the pendant?" I thought, and then I placed several more golden light talismans upon the nether jade.

When I reached the fifth talisman, the nether jade emitted a puffing sound, like something tearing open. Immediately after, Hong Nainai's figure fled in disarray from the nether jade.

"So cold…." After emerging, Hong Nainai shivered violently several times.

Seeing the aura leaking from her, I frowned deeper. A murky, blackish qi spread over her body; even a light touch felt bone‑chillingly cold. Although Hong Nainai is a ghost, this yin qi seems to repel her, and the two energies cannot coexist.

"Hong Nainai, what on earth is this? How do you have such icy yin qi on you?" As soon as the question left my lips, a person involuntarily came to mind. To be precise, it wasn't a person but a ghost—the armored army spirit that saved me and Pangzi that night in the art studio's small building.

"He… is he?" Hong Nainai's face showed fear as she slowly pointed her finger at the red coffin holding Little Fat.

My heart skipped a beat; I cursed "holy shit," and indeed it was related to him.

"Has that armored army spirit been here?" I glanced around furtively like a thief and cautiously asked Hong Nainai.

Hong Nainai replied, trembling: "He has been here."

Hong Nainai told me that on the second night after Pangzi and I left Shenzhen for Anhui to attend the gathering, that armored army spirit came to our house, apparently aiming for Little Fat lying in the coffin.

At first, Hong Nainai didn't know who the army spirit was; when she first sensed him, she thought he was an eyeless wandering ghost come to steal fragrant oil, but when she peered out from the nether jade, she saw the armored army spirit.

That armored soldier merely glared at Hong Nainai, and she immediately fainted. When her spirit revived, she found herself trapped inside the nether jade; no matter how she struggled, it was as if she were stuck in an ice cavern, unable to break free.

Not until this morning did the yin qi of the nether moat loosen; Hong Nainai then struck the nether jade with all her strength, drawing my attention. With my help, she finally broke free from the nether jade.

After hearing Hong Nainai's account, my heart skipped a beat. I quickly opened my eyes with a fine light talisman and glanced into the small coffin.

When I saw Little Fat still lying safe and sound in the coffin, I finally relaxed. Yet, even as I breathed easy, I wondered: just what is Little Fat's background, that he could move an army spirit that even my master couldn't summon? Moreover, the spirit's cultivation is formidable—a mere flick of its little finger could crush me.

From Hong Nainai's experience, I infer that the army spirit came specially to see Little Fat, but found her a nuisance and thus sealed her in the nether jade. This also shows that his relationship with Little Fat is not as simple as I imagined.

All of this has shrouded Little Fat in a veil of strangeness and mystery.

After agonizing over it for a long time, I decided not to worry about it. Regardless of his relation to Little Fat, this army spirit is one of ours, and as long as he harms neither me nor Little Fat, that's fine.

I pointed at the nether jade and asked Hong Nainai: "Are you going back to the nether jade?"

Hong Nainai hurriedly shook her head: "That place is colder than the pond I used to stay in; I'd rather die than go back."

Seeing that, I didn't force her; I let her stay in the house. Incidentally, I also told her about Murong Jia Jia.

Afterward, I tidied the spirit altar, cleared away the dirty things in the house, shut the door, and headed for Chan Yi Hall, which is two streets away.

Since I last helped Doctor Chen lift the tiger‑mouth curse, Yuan Qiu hasn't come looking for us; I heard his family is now preparing to set up a company in Hu Men, Dongguan, specializing in underwear.

However, I'm not optimistic about his idea. Although Hu Men in Dongguan is a famous Chinese garment hub, and Yuan Qiu's family has some connections there, most of Dongguan's clothing market is already monopolized by Chaoshan people; even native Guangdong residents can't gain any edge in that market.

Idly pondering such miscellaneous things, I soon arrived at the gate of Chan Yi Hall.

Believe it or not, there actually was someone inside Chan Yi Hall—but it seemed they weren't there for business.

Pangzi and an elderly woman stood in the hall of Chan Yi Hall. The woman looked about fifty, a red silk scarf wrapped around her head, her temples already white. She was holding Pangzi's hand, chatting and laughing.

"Hai Sheng, hurry over—this lady brought us food." As soon as he saw me, Pangzi waved happily.

I walked over and saw a basket on the table, filled entirely with red eggs.

Pangzi and I said that the woman's daughter‑in‑law had just given birth, so she specially brought red eggs for us two. Her daughter‑in‑law had once suffered from kidney stones, which QingSongShu had alleviated with medicinal methods; after regulation, her body recovered and she even gave birth to a big, fat grandson.

Pangzi said that, and I had no doubts: QingSongShu is a fine person; when he meets poor believers, he helps if he can and never takes money. Thus, those he has helped often bring poultry, fruit, and the like as thanks.

Pangzi and I took the eggs from the woman's hand, peeled them, and prepared to stuff them into our mouths.

Just then, a loud shout came from the doorway.

"Don't eat them—quickly throw the eggs away."

A tall, strapping figure appeared at the doorway, glaring angrily at the woman.

"Uncle Seven, why have you come too?" Pangzi stopped, staring in surprise at Uncle Seven. In the half‑second before Pangzi cried out, the woman's kind smile turned ferocious; she thrust out a hand and lunged to claw at Pangzi's throat.

Just as her withered hands were about to close on Pangzi's neck, I kicked her flying with a mid‑air kick. Even before Uncle Seven shouted his warning, I had sensed that the woman was off—there was no way to let her have her way.

After the woman was flung backward, the red silk ribbon on her head fell to the ground, letting me see her appearance clearly.

"A reanimated corpse!" Seeing her face, I couldn't help but gasp. It was a dark‑bluish cheek, with a pea‑sized black mole protruding from the center of her forehead. At first I thought it was a birthmark, but then I recalled the records of reanimated corpses in the classics.

In Daoist Sect terms, a reanimated corpse is a taboo and a legend. Such a corpse is neither human nor ghost, existing between yin and yang. To cultivate one, a practitioner must choose a room that sees no sunlight, wrap the corpse in mulberry bark, and place it in the most yin spot of the room. Whenever the fifteenth‑night moon appears, they open a small hole in the roof to let moonlight in, then add infant blood, grave soil, and a few other ingredients for the ritual refining—something ordinary people cannot accomplish. Once formed, a reanimated corpse can survive only on resentment and human blood, is manipulated by the sorcerer, and goes about killing people.

It can be said that the reanimated corpse is a highly evil technique.

"It's a worm cultivator, not a reanimated corpse." Uncle Seven flipped the woman onto the ground, his face stern as he corrected me.

"Hurry up and get some boy's urine—this thing is a hassle; you need to douse it with feces and urine." Seeing us stunned, Uncle Seven frowned and bellowed at us twice.

I hurriedly shoved Pangzi and shouted anxiously: "Pangzi, quick, let's go piss…"

"Sigh…" Pangzi stared, silent for a long moment. Then he lifted his right hand, gazing at it with deep eyes, voice trembling on the verge of tears: "I hate him."

I: …………