Chapter 39

Pangzi, are you sure you don't need to prepare more things?

No need, we have talismans and the ghost-interrogation rod; what are you afraid of?

It's not fear; I think it's better to bring my command flag just in case.

Don't, your command flag is too powerful; a light strike would dissipate a ghost's soul by three zhang.

In the pitch-black night, amidst the mottled woods, two shadowy figures furtively appeared, whispering to each other.

Needless to say, those two shadows are me and Pangzi. After finishing our exams today, we decided to return to school and secretly investigate that strange painting room.

Pangzi wore a Daoist robe of radiant splendor, holding talismans and a ghost-interrogation rod. I, meanwhile, wore casual talismans and also held talismans and a ghost-interrogation rod.

There are two kinds of talismans: one is Guandi's Evil-Slaying Talisman, the other is the Six Jia Soul-Capturing Talisman. Plus there's a ghost-interrogation rod refined from peach wood and yellow paper.

Peach is the essence of the five elements, thus it can suppress evil qi. Ancients believed peach wood repels ghosts and wards off evil, able to subdue a hundred ghosts. Even the earliest door gods were made as two little figures from peach wood. And the ghost-interrogation rod crafted from peach-wood talismans is more powerful than ordinary peach wood; it is one of the commonly used magical implements in the Daoist Sect, requiring the Heavenly Marshal's Ghost-Interrogation Incantation to work.

Guandi's Evil-Slaying Talisman and the ghost-interrogation rod are used for dueling; the last Six Jia Divine General Soul-Capturing Talisman is for collecting ghosts. Although the battle plan's steps are clear… I still feel this whole getup is a bit unreliable.

Pangzi, are you sure this will work? For some reason, I've had a bad feeling all night.

Pangzi pouted: "Don't waste words; I've got everything under control."

I… could tell you, it's precisely because you're this unreliable factor that I'm so worried, right?

Following the night, Pangzi and I pushed aside waist-high weeds and arrived at the base of the painting room's small building.

My sister said it's the third floor here; let's go up. Pangzi looked at the five-story dilapidated building and twisted his waist.

Pangzi, wait a moment. Suddenly I heard a tinkling sound coming from under Pangzi's foot. I pried open his foot and picked up… a string of little bells from where he stood.

This string of bells is tiny yet exquisite; I've never seen one before, and it's purple. To be honest, I don't know why, but since childhood I've liked bells; hearing their pleasant tinkle makes me feel comfortable. Seeing this string of bells now simply brightens my eyes.

Never mind those junk items, let's go up first. Pangzi turned, urged me on, opened the iron door of the stairwell, and marched ahead.

I put the bells into my pocket, followed behind Pangzi, and entered this small building.

During the day we had observed this small building; although not extremely dilapidated, from the outside the surrounding walls had long since peeled several layers due to the years, making the whole building look lifeless.

The stairwell had no light at all; I followed behind Pangzi, relying on our senses, we stepped up the stairs step by step.

Perhaps due to the structure, the empty stairwell echoed with thudding sounds—our footsteps—but through the wall's reflection it seemed to come from the whitish walls, then diffuse into the air.

In the dimness, I felt my skin itch; my idle right hand flung out and grabbed a handful of sticky substance—though I couldn't see it, I knew it was spiderweb. Looking up, the stairwell's ceiling leaked a dim white, emitting a hazy glow in the pitch‑black night, flickering on and off.

Even without light, walking the distance of three floors wasn't particularly difficult.

But why does my heart feel filled with an uneasy sensation that I can't describe, yet this unease undeniably exists, throbbing with my breath like a thump‑thump. It isn't fear, but an intangible oppression.

I have practiced with the command flag on a mountain of graves, and I have gone to a pauper's cemetery to seek skulls to refine yin qi, but back then my heart had never felt as oppressed as tonight.

No matter how deep the night, I wouldn't feel afraid. Yet why do I constantly sense a pair of eyes watching me from the surroundings, like a leopard lurking in jungle undergrowth, ready to pounce the moment I show a hint of fatigue and tear me apart without hesitation.

Pangzi, let's go back. I said, frowning, in the hallway.

Pangzi turned back, surprised, and asked me: "What's wrong?"

I said: "I don't know why, but tonight's atmosphere feels strange; I think we should go back, prepare a bit, and come again."

"It's probably just you being overly nervous, right? When we worked before, haven't we encountered nights even more creepy than this? What's there to be afraid of?" Pangzi answered without worry: "We've already come to the door, let's just go in and take a look."

While speaking, we also arrived at the studio Mengxue mentioned, and Pangzi pushed the door open and went in first.

Even if I hesitated again, I had no choice but to follow behind Pangzi and go in.

After entering the studio, Pangzi turned on the incandescent light inside, and sat on the table with his legs crossed.

"There's nothing strange about it, why do I not feel even a bit of yin energy?" Pangzi sat cross-legged, took out an apple from his pocket, wiped it twice, and put it in his mouth.

I shook my head speechlessly; this glutton never forgets to bring food no matter when.

The studio isn't big, only about fifty square meters. The empty classroom had a few desks scattered about; since it hadn't been used in a long time, the podium and many desks were covered in dust.

At the back of the studio, some students' works from the past remained, sealed with oil paper, also covered in dust.

The only clean thing in the whole classroom was the purple desk and chair in the middle, the same color as the bell; it looked like someone had been here not long ago.

That person must be Mengxue.

Outside the corridor, the moonlight grew deeper, and my heart became increasingly uneasy. I don't know why, as a disciple of the Yin Mountain sect most familiar with ghosts, I actually felt not a trace of ghostly energy. Speaking of spiritual perception, the Yin Mountain sect is the most sensitive to these things. Yet, after sitting here for over an hour, there wasn't even a hint of ghost or yin energy.

I walked to the blackboard, stroking its shiny surface, just like an ordinary classroom blackboard, which had nothing special about it, but Mengxue actually said that she had seen a small bird without legs on this studio's blackboard the night before.

"Could it be that my steps are wrong?"

I furrowed my brows, carefully considering whether I had missed any detail.

According to Mengxue, the blood-red little bird and the long-haired woman only appeared when she was drawing. Put that way, it's very likely that all these strange phenomena occur only while painting.

Could it be that one must paint for this female ghost to appear?

Such a reason isn't strange; some ghosts wandering in a certain area of Yangjian always remember what they liked most in life, or a certain scene at the moment of death. If that scene is reenacted, it could possibly trigger their memory and cause them to appear.

I once heard such a story. In ancient times there was a scholar who loved books as his life, studying in a ruined temple; later he died of wind-cold in that ruined temple. On his deathbed he still held a volume, in the posture of careful study.

Afterward, whenever someone passed by the ruined temple and read at the spot where the scholar had died, lamp lit for night reading, the ruined temple would always echo with a series of chilling reading sounds.

This is the obsession of a wronged soul, but such a situation is an exception among exceptions; even out of a hundred cases, one might not necessarily see such a case.

Generally, ghosts won't harm people for no reason, even if you live where they once lived. As long as you don't provoke them, you can coexist peacefully. However, if you move their belongings, or accidentally place your bed on the spot where they died unjustly, pressing on them, it's not strange for them to appear and bother you.

There is another relatively exceptional case, namely the first kind mentioned above. Doing the same thing stirs the ghost's memories of life. However, this situation is rare. Unless it's some book-obsessed or painting-obsessed individuals who retain their fervor for these things after death.

Then could the ghost lingering in the studio be a painting fanatic?

While thinking that, I walked to Mengxue's position and opened the drawing board. At our school, the chair and desk are balanced; one sits and then places the drawing board on top to draw.

I opened the drawing board, took out the colored pens, and prepared to draw.

To be honest, my drawing skills are terrible; the only thing I can draw is a duck, and that's only because of those folk songs passed down from childhood.

There's a folk song that goes like this: "Mom taught me to write the character 'two', but I almost killed her on the exam with 'egg', Mom picked up a stick and beat me 'three times', I fled from the back of the house back to the front door." The "two", "egg", "three strikes", and the final stroke turning from the tail back to the duck's beak form a complete duck. Although it's a bit odd, relatively speaking I'm still quite satisfied.

"Hahaha, you killed me laughing, why is this duck's beak so pointed? Looking at it sideways or vertically, I feel like it's a duck with a chicken's beak." Pangzi bit half an apple and laughed loudly without any image.

My face turned red, I quickly tore open the drawing paper, and gave him a fierce stare: "You're so good, you draw."

Pangzi hehe smiled and said: "Let's not talk about that; you say why after so long, that little bird and woman still haven't appeared."

Little bird and woman…… Why does a scene that was originally gloomy and terrifying, when spoken from Pangzi's mouth, I always can't help but think lewd…… Is it that I'm impure, or is Pangzi too lecherous, anything that comes out of his mouth seems to change its flavor.

"How would I know, I'm not that bird, asking me is useless." I gave him a white eye, said glumly.

Pangzi raised his eyebrows, leaned over, but why was that expression so lecherous, his eyebrows kept twitching nonstop.

"Hai Sheng, it's late and no one's around, let's have a blow."

I damn, blow... blow your sister....