Chapter 7: 6、Ghost Secret Treasure

6、Ghost Secret Treasure

“Woof! Woof! Woof!”

“Aowu… aowu…”

“Sssss—wu—”

The vicious, sinister barking still echoed around Zhou Chang’s ears, but as Zhou Sanji carried him farther away, the barking grew slightly more distant.

They had already left Li Xiamei behind.

But when Zhou Sanji once again stumbled upon the fence courtyard while carrying him, he collapsed as if all his strength had been drained, flinging Zhou Chang off his back, who landed leaning against a tree stump.

A single layer of rammed earth wall behind the fence courtyard faced the group.

Zhou Chang and the others had circled around from the front gate of the fence courtyard to the rear of the house.

But the problem was, Zhou Chang had carefully observed the entire route—they had walked in a straight line and should have grown farther from Li Xiamei’s “home,” yet now they had ended up behind the fence courtyard—this in itself was abnormal.

“Huff—huff—”

Zhou Sanji panted heavily, his face flushed purple.

The flickering light of the fallen lantern nearby cast their expressions in even greater terror.

“I can’t run anymore, I can’t run!” Zhou Sanji shook his head repeatedly, but when he looked up and saw Zhou Chang slumped against the stump, his eyes flickered with struggle—he pushed himself up with his hands and walked toward Zhou Chang.

Sun Yanshun’s face was filled with dread as he nervously scanned his surroundings.

Seeing Zhou Sanji approach Zhou Chang, the goatee man fixed his gaze sharply on the grandfather and grandson, his face twisted into a grotesque mask of terror: “Think of something, Old Endong!”

Running like this won’t work!

As long as we’re alive, as long as we move or run, Li Xiamei can smell our living scent and hear our footsteps—even our breathing is crystal clear to her!

She can find us easily—we can’t outrun her!

Do you have any other plan?!

Zhou Chang watched him speak while gripping the polished, gleaming blade of his broadsword, advancing toward him, and gave Zhou Sanji a glance, warning him to watch his back.

Zhou Sanji understood Zhou Chang’s look and spun around sharply—

The short sword from his satchel was already in his hand, aimed straight at Sun Yanshun!

“What the hell are you trying to do with that knife?!” Zhou Sanji’s eyes bulged, the paint on his face trembling with his twitching muscles, appearing dark and terrifying: “If you hadn’t ignored me, if you hadn’t made noise all along—urinating, defecating, polluting the spirits—we’d already be home by now!

I haven’t even held you accountable yet, and now you point a knife at me?

What do you want?!”

Sun Yanshun, pinned by Zhou Sanji’s ferocious glare, the faint aggression on his face instantly faded by a third.

He lowered his blade and smiled apologetically at Zhou Sanji: “I… I don’t want to do anything… This knife’s been in my hand the whole time—I never meant to use it, I just wanted to ask you, Old Endong, do you have any other plan?

We can’t possibly escape on foot alone…”

“Drop the knife!” Zhou Sanji glared at Sun Yanshun.

Sun Yanshun hesitated: “Carrying a knife for protection isn’t wrong…”

Zhou Sanji raised his voice further: “Drop the knife! You’re the kind of man who, when Li Xiamei appears, doesn’t even warn anyone—you just run away yourself, watching your own disciple get killed—how do I know you won’t betray us?!

Drop the knife!”

Sun Yanshun’s face darkened from Zhou Sanji’s words; he clenched his jaw, locked eyes with Zhou Sanji for a moment, then suddenly grinned and pretended to toss his broadsword far away—

Zhou Sanji watched him drop the weapon, his expression relaxing slightly.

But at that moment, Sun Yanshun suddenly crouched low, rolled over the ground several times, and swapped positions with Zhou Sanji!

He rolled behind Zhou Sanji, wrapped one arm around Zhou Chang’s neck as he leaned against the stump, and snatched up the broadsword on the ground, pressing its blade against Zhou Chang’s throat.

Zhou Chang stared at the gleaming blade, his eyes dark and unreadable.

Zhou Sanji flew into a rage, but seeing Sun Yanshun holding the knife to his grandson’s throat, he froze, afraid to move.

The barking grew louder, closer.

Li Xiamei could reappear at any moment.

Sun Yanshun sneered, staring at Zhou Sanji, speaking fiercely: “You already summoned Zhong Kui once—can’t you try summoning another god to help us get through this?”

Zhou Sanji glanced at him coldly and laughed bitterly: “You want me to die?!

One matter, one deity!

If I summon another god now, I don’t even know if I can succeed—but even if I do, that god will see the incense aura of Master Zhong Kui on me and kill me first!”

“But if you die, the god will still act after taking your life!

You’ll be dead, but Zhou Chang can live!

I’ll carry Zhou Chang out of here for you—just summon the god, and I swear on my life I’ll get Zhou Chang safely out!“ Sun Yanshun thrust up three fingers in a vow to heaven, “If you refuse to summon the god, watch your grandson die!

We’re all doomed anyway—so before I die, I’ll take someone with me!

You’re old—you won’t live much longer—can’t you think of Zhou Chang and let him live longer?!

Don’t try to stall—I’ll count to three. Each number, I cut him once, draw some blood. After three, you won’t even need to think—he’ll be dead already!”

Zhou Sanji trembled, his face strained; his fists clenched and unclenched inside his sleeves. Under Sun Yanshun’s relentless pressure and the deafening barking, he suddenly roared: “I shit your ancestral board!”

If it weren’t for you—if it weren’t for you grave robbers—I’d already be carrying Ah Chang home by now!

The Lao Feng family were the guardians of the Ghost Secret Treasure—you grave robbers must’ve dug up the treasure Li Xiamei guarded, awakening her—and brought this disaster upon us!

I shit your mother’s ghost!

Now that you’ve caused this mess and can’t fix it, you threaten me? You want me to sacrifice my life to save you?!

Amid Zhou Sanji’s roaring curses, Sun Yanshun remained eerily calm.

He sneered: “Didn’t you notice? The shovels and iron picks my disciple and I brought have no fresh soil on them!

I hadn’t even begun fengshui divination—the sky turned black before I could even lower my Luoyang shovel—black winds blew across the graveyard!

We did come to dig graves and steal treasures, but we weren’t mad enough to steal the Ghost Secret Treasure guarded by the Lao Feng family!

In this graveyard, only you—you alone—dug up something: you dug up Ah Chang. Ah Chang—I’ve always said he looked different now, like he’d been reborn!

He—might just be the Ghost Secret Treasure guarded by the Lao Feng family!”

“Shut your mother’s mouth!” Zhou Sanji cursed Sun Yanshun again.

But meeting Sun Yanshun’s cold, sinister gaze, his curses choked in his throat—he couldn’t utter another word.

He remembered the moment he’d unearthed Ah Chang from the graveyard…

One shovel strike—and the sky turned dark…

When he pulled out Ah Chang’s coffin, black winds swept across the land…

Ah Chang truly had changed from before…

All of it made his rebuttal impossible.

“Why don’t you keep talking? You’ve been proven right!” Sun Yanshun sneered, the broadsword against Zhou Chang’s throat trembling slightly: “He’s the Lao Feng family’s treasure. You yourself said Ah Chang was haunted—perhaps the ghost haunting him was deliberately guiding you to bury him here, to die and become a ‘ghost treasure’!

For him to come back to life now is miraculous!

After such a miracle, you wouldn’t want him dragged back into a coffin by Li Xiamei, would you?

—Will you summon the god or not?

Will you summon the god?!”

Under Sun Yanshun’s coercion, Zhou Sanji’s last resistance crumbled; his Adam’s apple rolled, and he was about to nod in agreement.

This grandson of his was no longer the same as Ah Chang.

But at least he still wore Ah Chang’s flesh, still recognized him as grandfather.

So he was willing to sacrifice his own old life to save his grandson.

“I…” Zhou Sanji opened his mouth, uttering only one word.

As Sun Yanshun saw Zhou Sanji about to nod, his heart pounded—suddenly, the broadsword in his hand stopped trembling. A tremendous force surged through the blade—the “Ah Chang,” whom he’d held captive, seemingly paralyzed all along, now had a pale face, reached out a hand, and clamped his thumb and forefinger tightly around the blade pressed against his throat.

Transparent, faintly white threads coiled around Zhou Chang’s hand gripping the blade—delicate as they were, they could not be severed by the iron sword.

He gripped the blade and yanked sharply—Sun Yanshun, who had been holding the hilt behind him, was yanked straight to Zhou Chang’s front!

He reached to snatch the sword from Zhou Chang’s hand, but Zhou Chang flipped his wrist and slashed his arm!

Blood gushed from Sun Yanshun’s arm!

Zhou Chang’s pale face loomed over Sun Yanshun on the ground; he stepped on his chest, sword in hand.

The gleaming blade, polished to silver, pressed against Sun Yanshun’s neck.

“Grandfather, I just thought of a way neither of us has to die.

But this old man must make a sacrifice—he’s so old, he won’t live long anyway—he should give up his life to give the young a chance…” Zhou Chang said.

Zhou Sanji stared at Zhou Chang standing before him; his first thought wasn’t the plan—he was filled with wonder, wrinkles crowding his eyes: “You—you can move?!”

“Yes.”

Zhou Chang nodded, the blade against Sun Yanshun’s neck unwavering.

After he had mentally donned the transparent, faintly white garment, he gained the ability to control this body with his mind.

Until now, he had concealed it completely—even as Zhou Sanji struggled under his weight, he remained coldly indifferent, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

When everyone believed he was helpless, a mere object to be disposed of, his sudden action would deliver an unexpected blow.

Especially—each thread composing the transparent garment was tied to Zhou Chang’s thoughts, draining his spirit severely; within moments, he already felt he couldn’t sustain it.

If he had used this method earlier, he would have exhausted his spirit by now, dazed and helpless, like fish on a chopping block.

Thus, for him now, this method could only be used as a final strike.