Chapter 97: The Angry Bai Yu
This shouldn’t be happening!
The first thought that popped into Zhao Chengcai’s mind was exactly that.
His powers came from a god, making him the god’s spokesperson. With just a word, he could wipe out ghosts. And ghosts? They weren’t exactly high-quality products; most had all the charm of a one-celled organism, endlessly repeating their m*rder spree fueled by grievances from their previous lives.
Dealing with such a ghost, even a talisman would be a waste.
He should have triggered the softest part of this ghost’s heart, causing her to go fleeing into another dimension—screaming, fainting, or at the very least losing her fighting spirit.
What kind of ghost could be so bold as to unsheathe a kn*fe without hesitation when her tender side was awakened?
Is her heart made of steel?
Does she have no one to care about?
Could it be that she has no one she loves?
But in reality, the blade was already diving for his throat, too fast for him to even flinch before it slashed open his neck.
The talisman in his hand fluttered out, but the ghost just casually grabbed it, unconcerned about the divine power burning on it, and crumpled it into a ball.
His bl**d Thread blade vanished from Bai Yu’s hands, morphing into a suit of armor around her. She reached out with her right hand and grabbed Zhao Chengcai’s neck, already leaking copious amounts of dark bl**d, and with a firm grip, she pried open the wound.
This guy’s bl**d was a foreign shade, bordering on black and reeking of decay. Mixed with the smell of bl**d, you could even see something squirming inside the wound—worms, perhaps?
With her other hand, Bai Yu seized Zhao Chengcai’s collar, ignoring his futile struggles as she tore his shirt open to reveal his torso covered in ritualistic symbols.
A slit throat doesn’t mean instant d*ath, but it surely doesn’t leave you feeling sprightly for long.
As bl**d spewed out, Zhao Chengcai continued to writhe, prying at Bai Yu’s hand in a pathetic attempt to make her loosen her grip.
Yet Bai Yu’s hand only tightened, her armored fingers digging painfully into his neck, causing his bones to creak in muffled agony.
As a spokesperson for the god, Zhao Chengcai had dedicated his body to an evil deity, so it wasn’t going to be that easy to k*ll him. Even with his throat sliced open, he was still attempting to mumble something.
The sounds he was making were unintelligible to any normal person, but in Bai Yu’s ears, it morphed into her dear sister Bai Sisi’s cries for mercy.
“Big sis, it hurts so much…”
“Are you trying to k*ll me…?”
“Please, let go…”
Earlier, she had struck a deep chord in Bai Yu’s heart, awakening memories of Bai Sisi calling for her brother, and now it was Zhao Chengcai’s own intention, transforming into the voice of Bai Sisi in Bai Yu’s mind.
A flash of red glimmered in Bai Yu’s eyes as she gripped tightly, stabbing into Zhao Chengcai’s abdomen.
Hearing that painfully innocent voice, Bai Yu slammed Zhao Chengcai down to the ground.
“Shut up!”
Thwack!
Both claws plunged in, one left, one right, applying sudden force.
But instead of finding what she sought, all she got was a squirming mass of black worms.
Raising her hands, Bai Yu flipped the still-living Zhao Chengcai over, stepping on his tailbone, while forming a dagger in her palm, taking a chunk of his skin as a souvenir.
In doing so, she deliberately closed Zhao Mingyue’s eyes and used her own instead, wanting to shield her from the gruesome sight.
And this wasn’t for the sake of venting her anger.
Zhao Chengcai’s body was no ordinary one; it had nearly no fat left, wiry and filmy flesh scrawled with black, unreadable symbols. These markings were inscribed upon his soul, binding it forever.
It was hard to believe that someone in such a state was still alive. It hinted that this guy was far more troublesome than she initially thought.
To Bai Yu, the letters on Zhao Chengcai’s flesh seemed animated, twisting into words.
“I will find you.”
With a blink, the markings disappeared, and at that moment, Zhao Chengcai’s corpse finally lost its life force, shrinking at an observable rate, as countless black worms scurried out from beneath his skin, only to be gobbled up by Bai Yu’s bl**d Thread.
Bai Yu stood in silence, her hands dripping with black bl**d while her body was nearly drenched in it. She controlled the bl**d Thread, writhing to devour the remaining stains.
Once that was done, she turned around, once again facing Zhao Mingyue’s relatives huddled in the corner, too scared to move.
A wax corpse with an evil ghost inside could somewhat self-repair, even if beheaded, so long as the head wasn’t ground to bits.
While Bai Yu dealt with Zhao Chengcai, they’d been attempting to restore their bodies.
Seeing Bai Yu turn, a wave of intense fear washed over them. It was as if in that brief moment, she had cured their manic episodes and schizophrenia, leaving only the rational persona that could comprehend human speech.
Because just a moment ago, their “younger relative” had brutalized the one who turned them into this, Zhao Chengcai. What was more absurdly outrageous was that even their spokesperson had been dispatched, and their sacred Godmother hadn’t even dropped in for a chat.
“Tell me everything you know.”
Brandishing her kn*fe, Bai Yu approached.
At the front was the second aunt who had pushed Zhao Mingyue to drop out of school and get married early. Facing Bai Yu’s question, her response was simply, “I—I don’t know; I’m just a believer.”
“Then you’re useless.”
The long kn*fe embedded itself in the wax corpse’s head, bursting forth a bloody lotus that shattered the skull, absorbing the lingering resentment.
Unfortunately, after all the wax corpses were slaughtered, she still hadn’t dredged up any useful intel. She believed these clowns truly knew nothing—so clueless they even made up nonsense.
The room fell into total silence, and standing at the doorway, with her back turned to the room, she stripped the control from Zhao Mingyue.
The icy white mask disintegrated, and Zhao Mingyue regained control of her body. Yet, she didn’t look back; her fear didn’t originate here, it just peaked here. The faces of those Bai Yu had killed left an indelible shadow in her mind.
Truthfully, if she were to hate anyone, that was secondary; she merely wanted to know the fate of her sister.
What had become of those people? Were they now wax corpses, neither human nor ghost, controlled by someone? Or were they simply dead? She didn’t care.
Stealing a glance at her uncle’s corpse left Zhao Mingyue with mixed feelings.
“Sigh, at least I’ve got some answers.”
“Yuyu, do you think what we did can be considered a good deed? Helping them escape from their ghostly states.”
“Anyway, I didn’t lie. I promised to help them escape, and I delivered, didn’t I?”
Stepping out of the yard, Zhao Mingyue took a final glance.
From now on, this place would no longer haunt her dreams.
“For me, this has never been home. Yuyu, where are we heading next?”
“To the village temple.”
“Mm-hm.”
Heading back along the path, the temple was in the west village, so she would need to make another trip.
On the way, Zhao Mingyue pondered, “Yuyu, what did you hear back at my uncle’s place? You seemed really angry.”
She had never seen Bai Yu like that. Well, not that she was looking. Prior to this, Bai Yu had consistently projected stability, calmly responding to any crisis without much emotional upheaval.
But just now, she was furious.
“Nothing.”
“Is it related to that god?”
“Sort of.”
“Don’t be mad; once we find it, let’s chop off its head so it can never speak again!” Zhao Mingyue raised her right hand, making a chopping motion against her left palm.
“I will find it.”
At this, Zhao Mingyue stopped asking questions; she knew whose voice Bai Yu had heard. Inwardly, she mused, that Zhao Chengcai sure had guts—treading on lightning without a care—if he didn’t d*e, who would?
Attacking someone’s soft spot can work, but it very much depends on the target.
Use it incorrectly, and not only will it not diminish their fighting spirit, it might actually amplify it—Bai Yu had that aura about her just now. Even if the Godmother had truly intervened, she’d still have taken him down.
As they passed by the little pond from before, the head that had been spinning and blowing bubbles was gone. Zhao Mingyue deliberately walked this way, wanting her friend to know she was fine and had resolved everything.
“Bai Yu, really, thank you! Even my best friend thought I’d be dead upon returning, which is why they tried to scare me, you know? My best friend has always been into appearances; she’s never anything less than pretty.”
“Her disposition is absolutely not one to look like that in front of me.”
“So when I get back, I owe you a reward! Well, maybe not a reward—more like a thank you.”
“Right, a thank you.”
As they stepped onto the road separating the two villages, the fog around the village thickened. Standing on the path and gazing into the inner mountains, all they could see was a dense mist at the end.
Suddenly, Zhao Mingyue heard a sound.
She paused, turned towards the source of the noise, and stared down the road.
Faintly, she heard the celebratory sounds of drums and gongs, and amidst the mist, red figures leaped joyfully into view. Gradually, Zhao Mingyue recognized a bridal procession carrying a palanquin.
“Bai Yu, is that the bride you mentioned?”
The drumbeats ceased, and under the cover of night and fog, the bouncing figures in red robes looked eerie.
“Let’s go; don’t block the way.”
