Chapter 77 – Soul Snatching

When Wei Yang returned to the ancestral home for the second time, the anxiety in his heart had already dissipated. He no longer dwelled on the nightmares but instead headed straight for the storeroom.

Built during the late Qing Dynasty, the house had a typical old-fashioned layout. The two-courtyard compound naturally had two storerooms, one in the outer courtyard and one in the inner courtyard. The outer storeroom was used to store daily necessities like grain and firewood. It had high beams, was spacious, and well-ventilated, with a relatively large area. The inner storeroom, however, was used to store valuables. It was small, cramped, and well-sealed. When the land reform movement took place, all the servants in the house had been dismissed. Then came the famine and the turmoil, and the outer storeroom became completely useless, empty and overrun with rats. However, the inner storeroom always contained something, though not just anyone could enter—not even Wei Yang himself.

This time, he wanted to open the storeroom located in the inner courtyard. The room was situated in the northeast corner of the inner courtyard, adjacent to the secondary bedroom. It was about ten square meters in size and had no windows. The only way to enter was through a wooden door reinforced with iron sheets. After his grandmother passed away, the old house had been cleaned out by his uncle’s family. The heavy furniture had been moved to the outer storeroom, while small items like fine clothes and stationery had been piled into the inner storeroom. What Wei Yang was looking for were the books and notebooks left behind by his grandfather.

Just like the black leather notebook he currently had, his grandfather had a habit of keeping notes. If the past events of the Changchun Association had been clearly recorded in his notebooks, then the circumstances surrounding his parents’ tragedy might also have left traces. Moreover, this matter involved a Celestial Master from Longhu Mountain. Given his grandfather’s cautious nature, even if he hadn’t told him or his uncle the details, he would have surely left behind some clues.

If he could find those records, he might be able to uncover the root cause of his parents’ tragedy, the involvement of the Zhang family, and even find clues about the missing Heavenly Soul of Zhang Xiuqi. These things were far more important than the mysteries surrounding himself. Perhaps it was because of his uncle’s unexpected behavior in front of his grand uncle that the thoughts Wei Yang had been suppressing in his heart finally began to loosen. No matter what the truth was, his family had never intended to harm him—at least, most of them hadn’t…

Turning the key in his hand, the security lock on the storeroom door clicked open, and Wei Yang pushed open the heavy wooden door. A musty smell greeted him. Inside the room, several large wooden and rattan boxes were haphazardly piled together. In the corner, there were simple furniture like bookshelves and display cabinets, filling the room to the brim. Although it was broad daylight outside, the house had long been without electricity, and the room had no windows. The side of the room near the wall was shrouded in darkness, giving it a somewhat eerie atmosphere.

Brushing away the dust in front of him, Wei Yang turned to Zhang Xiuqi and said, “Brother Qi, I need to look for some things. It’s probably too cramped in here for both of us. Why don’t you wait outside for a bit?”

Zhang Xiuqi nodded, seemingly without any objections. Without hesitation, Wei Yang rolled up his sleeves and walked into the room. It seemed that his uncle’s family hadn’t done much organizing in the storeroom. Many of the boxes were stacked directly on top of each other, piled up to half a person’s height. The wooden boxes were likely used in the master bedroom for storing clothes, passed down through generations. The carvings and wood grain on them had developed a patina over time. The rattan boxes, on the other hand, were from his grandfather’s generation and were specifically made to store the family’s inherited books.

Carefully moving the boxes aside, Wei Yang opened one of them, revealing a stack of yellowed thread-bound books. He had been very close to his grandfather since childhood, and in the inner courtyard, aside from the master bedroom, the place he was most familiar with was his grandfather’s study. He could almost recall the scene in the room with his eyes closed. Now, as he opened the rattan box, memories of those days came flooding back.

Unlike other people’s studies, his grandfather’s bookshelf was always filled with “strange books”—everything from dragon vein geomancy and Four Pillars of Destiny to face reading and divination. There were also many fascinating legends and travelogues, which had been his favorite as a child. Every night after playing outside, he would curl up on the large desk, poking and flipping through the books. His grandfather would sit in a rattan chair nearby, jotting things down in a small notebook. Occasionally, he would get up and come over to tell him stories that were even more exciting than operas. The old man might not have been a scholar, but he knew a lot of miscellaneous things and even knew a bit of English and German, which he liked to show off from time to time…

The memories of those days were like fleeting shadows. The sadness only lasted for a moment before Wei Yang shook his head and closed the box. In addition to ancient thread-bound books, his grandfather had also written many letters and diaries. These things should also be stored in one of the boxes.

Wei Yang searched with great enthusiasm. The dim room was like a curtain, cutting off his awareness of the outside world. It seemed he had even forgotten about the Little Celestial Master standing outside. At this moment, however, Zhang Xiuqi frowned slightly and turned to look behind him. Behind him was an empty courtyard. Due to the long period of disuse, the stone slabs were covered in a thick layer of dust, with only a few footprints freshly imprinted on them. However, beside those footprints, there were now a few smaller paw prints, as if a weasel or fox had dashed by.

Yet, he hadn’t sensed any living creature passing by.

A faint sound came from the distance, like the cry of a ghost owl, and then it turned into a “hehe” laughter, drifting near and far, elusive and ethereal. Zhang Xiuqi’s shoulders gradually tensed, and he gripped the Suihou Sword in his hand. However, he didn’t want to leave the storeroom—the person he was protecting was still inside…

But at that moment, another sound rang out, as if piercing through the mist of time and directly into his ears: “Xiao Qi!”

As if struck by lightning, Zhang Xiuqi’s body stiffened. The voice didn’t stop, carrying a hint of urgency and fear, calling out repeatedly. It was so close, as if it were right beside him. Without any hesitation, Zhang Xiuqi rushed toward the direction of the sound. He ran so fast that he almost kicked up the dust beneath his feet. However, he didn’t notice that, aside from the dust, something else had drifted into the courtyard—something hazy, like a thin mist.

Wei Yang opened another rattan box. This one contained inkstones, ink boxes, and some unused paper. He casually rummaged through the box but didn’t find anything with writing on it. Just as he was about to close the box, he heard a soft “click.” Looking up, it took him a moment to notice a small box had fallen onto the floor beside the bookshelf. The box wasn’t very big, its color dark and dull, like a piece of charred wood. However, there was something yellow stuck to the surface of the box.

Even in such dim lighting, Wei Yang recognized it at a glance—it was a Yellow Talisman, not the formal Three Mountains Talismans of Longhu Mountain, but a thin strip like those used in official seals from the old days. His heart stirred, and he quickly walked over. His grandfather’s study was the place he had spent the most time in, and it was the only place his grandmother never entered. He was familiar with everything in that room, but he had never seen this box before…

In just two steps, he reached the bookshelf and bent down to pick up the box. But just as his fingertip touched the lid, the talisman seal crumbled into pieces as if it had become brittle. The box tilted and fell over with a “thud,” and a small wooden statue rolled out.

It was an exquisitely carved fox statue. The fox’s body was slender, standing upright on its hind legs. Its fluffy tail was tucked behind it, and at the base of the tail, it seemed to split into multiple tails—though it was hard to tell exactly how many. Wei Yang’s heart tightened. For some reason, he suddenly remembered the note tucked inside the black leather notebook, which read, “When the Foxy Lady emerges, disaster follows. Hid the Zhufang in…”

Had his grandfather hidden something to prevent the Fox Immortal from wreaking havoc? Something hidden so thoroughly that even his grandmother, who worshipped the Fox Immortal, wouldn’t find it? If so, then the study was the perfect place. His grandmother had never entered his study, never… As if entranced, Wei Yang bent down and gently picked up the wooden statue with his fingertips.

&&&

“Father! Father!” the middle-aged man shouted in panic. The bone-washing had just begun when a chilling cold suddenly shot up his spine. For some reason, the fox statue placed on the white linen suddenly cracked with a loud “snap.” The smile on the fox’s face seemed to split apart, revealing a sinister and malevolent expression.

The sudden turn of events shocked the old man so much that he collapsed to the ground, his limbs twitching as if he had suffered a stroke. His eyes, which had shown no signs of aging, bulged as if they were about to pop out of their sockets. Stretching out his bony hand, he struggled to crawl toward the wooden statue.

“Impossible! Impossible! The Zhufang is a divine object! How could it shatter? That’s a divine object left behind by Jiang Nu!!”

However, his desperate cries couldn’t save anything. The fox statue wobbled slightly and split into two pieces.

&&&

Zhang Xiuqi suddenly stopped in his tracks. He realized that he had somehow rushed out of the inner courtyard. Something was buzzing in his head, and a hint of blood trickled from his nose. But the voice calling his name had disappeared. The man who had called him was like a wisp of smoke, vanishing into thin air. Instead, the eerie “hehe” laughter returned.

As he listened to the laughter, Zhang Xiuqi felt as if a layer of blood mist had covered his vision. Where was that man? Where was his father?!

However, the laughter didn’t stop. Instead, it grew louder and louder, as if it wanted to devour everything in the courtyard. The Bodhi Bead hanging around his chest suddenly trembled, and a clear, sharp sensation pierced his heart. Zhang Xiuqi felt a loud explosion in his mind, and the strange, sinister laughter instantly dissipated. He froze for a second, then his expression changed dramatically, and he rushed back toward the inner courtyard.

Foxes and weasels are most skilled at soul-entrancing techniques. What kind of sound had he just heard? And why did that thing lure him away…

In just a few steps, Zhang Xiuqi reached the storeroom door. However, the room that had been open now stood empty, with several rattan boxes knocked over as if someone had ransacked the place. He quickly turned around and looked around. The ground was still covered in a thick layer of dust, but in the dust, there was now another set of footprints—light and shallow, as if someone with little weight had floated across the ground. The footprints meandered, leading crookedly to another room.

That room was the embroidery room of the previous Jiang Nu.

With a twist of the Suihou Sword in his hand, Zhang Xiuqi charged forward. The thin door panel was split open with a single slash, and the carved lattice window creaked softly. A figure was sitting on a rickety, decaying wooden chair, holding a large sea bowl. His head was lowered, and his back was oddly arched, as if he were greedily sniffing something. However, the bowl was empty, containing nothing but cobwebs.

As if sensing disappointment, the figure gently placed the bowl on the wooden table in front of him. Then, the figure moved. Very, very slowly, it turned its shoulders and looked back.