The strike was powerful, and I had prepared my stance in advance. The black cat, mid-air, had no chance to dodge. My stick landed squarely on its back with a sickening thud.
A sharp, agonized yowl pierced the air as the cat was sent flying. Hearing its cry, Cai’s eyes instantly turned red, and he lunged forward, his arms outstretched like spears.
A resurrected corpse’s strength multiplies, and I knew better than to face him head-on. I ducked and rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding his grasp. Behind me, I heard two *thunks* as his arms pierced two holes in the thick wooden door.
Before the fight, I had been terrified, but once it started, adrenaline surged through me. Humans are future ghosts, and ghosts are past humans. Once you accept that, there’s nothing to fear. Zombies are just stronger and more rigid in their movements.
Having handled corpses frequently and relying on my strong fate, I played a game of cat and mouse with Cai in the mourning hall. Unfortunately, as a zombie, Cai seemed tireless, while my stamina was limited. Soon, I was exhausted, panting like a dying dog. If this continued, I’d be dead. But the doors and windows were sealed tight, leaving no escape.
As my movements slowed, Cai began cornering me. Just as he closed in, I tried to roll away again, but something tripped me, and I fell hard. Looking back, I saw it was the black cat, now a bloody mess from my earlier strike.
With my strength nearly gone and the cat’s interference, I couldn’t evade Cai any longer. He pinned me down, his hands like iron clamps around my neck. I gasped for air, my vision blurring.
I’m no martial artist, just a man fueled by survival instinct. But now, I realized my struggle had changed nothing. I was going to die.
Ever since Chow first told me about the taboos of corpse retrieval, I’d accepted the possibility of death. My parents only knew it was a forbidden profession, not that corpse retrievers constantly teetered on the edge of life and death.
If I hadn’t retrieved Xiang’s body, Cai wouldn’t have been killed by her vengeful spirit, and I wouldn’t have faced this resurrection horror. What I couldn’t understand was why Cai and the black cat had targeted me from the start.
“Hehehe…”
Cai’s eyes flashed red as he bared his fangs, tilting his head to sink them into my neck.
Excruciating pain shot through me, but I couldn’t even scream. His fangs pierced my skin, and as blood gushed out, the pressure in my head eased, bringing a strange sense of relief.
Damn it, if I’d known I’d die by a zombie’s bite, I’d have stayed in Guangzhou, living as a lonely singer.
Cai drank my blood greedily, the sound of his swallowing echoing in my ears. My consciousness faded, memories flashing before my eyes like a movie…
Just as I was about to pass out, the locked door burst open with a loud *bang*.
Cai looked up, and I twisted my head to see Chow standing in the doorway, holding a water monkey pelt. He flung it toward Cai.
As the saying goes, one thing subdues another. Water monkeys feed on corpses underwater, particularly their nails and eyes, making them the natural enemy of zombies.
Cai clearly knew the pelt’s power and tried to dodge. But I found a surge of strength, clinging to him to prevent his escape until the pelt covered us both.
The moment the pelt touched him, Cai let out a blood-curdling scream, writhing on the ground, desperate to shake it off. But the pelt clung like molten iron, burning him until he and the pelt turned to ash.
Chow helped me up, but I only managed to call him “Uncle” before blacking out.
When I woke, I was in Chow’s bed. I tried to move but felt utterly drained, my neck wound throbbing with pain. Despite the thick quilt, I felt as if I were in an ice cellar, shivering uncontrollably.
“Don’t move. The corpse poison hasn’t been neutralized. You can’t move for a few days,” Chow said.
“Chow, why did Cai want to kill me?” I asked weakly.
“It wasn’t Cai. It was Xiang. I miscalculated. I thought Xiang wouldn’t dare confront you directly, but I didn’t expect her to use Cai as a tool.”
Chow explained that Xiang had used Cai’s mourning hall as a stage, channeling her resentment into the black cat to resurrect Cai and kill me. While I hadn’t wronged Xiang, vengeful spirits don’t reason like the living. They only seek retribution for their karma, and hers began when I retrieved her body.
I had disrupted her peace, blocking her path to reincarnation. If only I’d left her body to the fish. And those grave robbers—if they hadn’t dug up her body for a ghost marriage, none of this would have happened.
Chow said Xiang, now a vengeful ghost, would keep killing until all who wronged her were dead. Vengeful ghosts operate outside the laws of heaven, and even a Taoist priest would struggle to stop her.
“Chow, what do we do? I know you have some skills. My life depends on you.”
“You’re overestimating me. I can’t save you. Only one person can. If she’s willing to help, even if Xiang becomes a red ghost, she won’t harm you.”
Chow said he’d believed Xiang wouldn’t harm me because of that person’s presence. Xiang’s plan to use Cai was both to kill me and to test whether that person would intervene.
Unfortunately, that person hadn’t shown up, and if Chow hadn’t arrived in time, I’d be dead.
“Chow, who is this person you’re talking about?” I asked.
“You’ve already met her. She’s the young woman you saw the first day you came to me.”
“What?”
I was stunned.
If Chow hadn’t mentioned her, I might have forgotten about her entirely. I complained that if Chow knew her identity, why had he kept it a mystery.
“Could I just casually mention her name? I’m already short on life force. If I offended her, I’d be finished,” Chow sighed.
“Who is she?”
“She’ll tell you herself when the time comes. I don’t even know her name. For now, focus on recovering. Then I’ll take you to do something important.”
Chow was deliberately vague, revealing neither the woman’s identity nor what the “important thing” was.
I spent the next few days recovering in Chow’s courtyard, under his watchful eye. Xiang, now a vengeful ghost, wouldn’t dare attack me in his presence.
As for the incident in Cai’s mourning hall, Chow covered it up with a fire. After rescuing me, he moved the other vigil-keepers outside and set the hall ablaze.
So far, no one knew Xiang’s actions were tied to me, not even my parents. They were unaware their second son was marked for death by a vengeful ghost.
During my recovery, strange incidents occurred nearby: someone broke their leg while walking at night, another chopped off their own hand while chopping wood, and one even scalded their eyes by falling into a boiling pot.
All these victims shared one trait: they were morally flawed.
I knew Xiang was settling her grudges—they’d touched what they shouldn’t have, seen what they shouldn’t have.
Though these bizarre accidents kept happening, no one connected them to Xiang—until the final night of her forty-nine-day period, when she orchestrated a horrifying massacre!