Finding an unfamiliar spirit hidden inside a lifeless corpse was no easy task.
Horror movies were always full of similar scenarios, though the vessel was usually not a corpse. It might be a toy, a doll, or a gloomy-looking child who gave off an eerie air, even though no one could quite explain what made them so unsettling.
Qin Shu suddenly suspected he would encounter this sort of thing often in the future. For him, it was like playing some bizarre new version of Spot the Difference. He needed to get the hang of it quickly and learn how to spot the flaw within the shortest possible time.
“That’s easy. Just find a way to provoke it,” Liu Yang Yang suggested. “Every spirit has an obsession. Unless it’s a powerful ghost that knows how to cultivate, most of these things are emotionally unstable. Attack it, deliberately say something nasty, or lure it out with something it cares about. The blunter and more direct you are, the better it works.”
“Really? Then could I take off Mr. Litt’s arm, study how thick his fat layer is, and sew it back on afterward?” Qin Shu raised an eyebrow and smiled, openly making fun of the corpse right in front of it. His casual attitude was decidedly disrespectful. “He’s dead anyway, so he can’t feel pain. We can alter him however we—”
Crack!
Before he could finish, Mr. Litt’s right arm snapped off by itself without warning, exposing broad layers of fat and muscle. The entire limb hung precariously from the cloth wrapped around it.
Preparing a corpse before herding it was extremely important. Liu Yang Yang had tightly bound every movable joint on Mr. Litt’s body with strips of cloth, which proved useful now. At the very least, the severed arm did not fall straight to the ground. It remained barely attached by bone and sinew…
Visually, however, that only made it even more horrifying.
Qin Shu stared blankly for a moment. “Brother Liu, what does this mean?”
“…I—I don’t know. He hasn’t reanimated.”
Liu Yang Yang muttered in confusion while swiftly grabbing a talisman and slapping it over the break as a precaution.
“Should I try saying a few more things?” Seeing that Liu Yang Yang did not appear overly alarmed, Qin Shu boldly continued, “We could cut off his head too. Maybe this so-called guardian spirit is hiding inside his brain. Mr. Litt was Catholic, but as far as I remember, Catholic guardian angels don’t go around harassing people. Believers have to pray before they can communicate with them, right? He must have gotten tangled up with some false god.”
Liu Yang Yang’s heart jolted with every sentence. He had not expected Qin Shu to talk such outrageous nonsense with a perfectly straight face. “Hey, hey, Brother Qin, take it easy—holy shit!”
The moment his startled cry rang out, Mr. Litt’s neck snapped.
It genuinely broke. Right before their eyes, his head separated cleanly from his body. The cross section was neat and precise, the severed neck as clearly defined as an anatomical specimen in a textbook.
Mr. Litt’s heavy head dropped like a watermelon, carrying the faint chill of something freshly removed from a freezer. Qin Shu reacted quickly and caught it. A powerful wave of revulsion swept through him, but he forced himself not to let go.
Not only did he continue holding it, he felt along the severed edge for a moment, then pushed his hand inside without hesitation. He forced apart the cold, rigid blood vessels and muscle tissue, plunging his fingers deep into Mr. Litt’s brain.
Squish… squish…
Qin Shu stirred his fingers expressionlessly. His movements appeared completely random, but he already had a theory.
He had said he wanted to cut open Mr. Litt’s arm, and the corpse’s arm had immediately broken. He had said he wanted to remove Mr. Litt’s head, and the corpse’s head had fallen straight off.
In that case, once he declared that the guardian spirit was hiding inside the brain, whatever the thing truly was, it had to be inside Mr. Litt’s brain at that exact moment.
That might not have been true originally, but reality had been forcibly altered before everyone’s eyes. Qin Shu calmly accepted the new facts and immediately acted on them.
Watching Qin Shu remain so composed, Liu Yang Yang swallowed involuntarily, every hair on his body standing on end. He suddenly felt that this expert’s mental state might be a little questionable. The Qin Shu before him seemed completely different from the gentle, cheerful teenager he remembered.
Then again, someone this young and capable being slightly unhinged was probably normal…
Before Liu Yang Yang could finish adjusting his expectations, Qin Shu withdrew his damp hand.
His expression turned grave. Slowly opening his palm, he revealed an oval object several centimeters long, larger than a quail egg but smaller than a pigeon egg.
It was milky white and looked somewhat like an enormous grain of rice, though it obviously could not be rice. It resembled the egg of some unknown creature. Its softness made one’s scalp prickle, and even after spending several days inside a refrigerated corpse, it still carried an unnatural warmth.
Qin Shu carefully turned it over and found two narrow ridges running along its back. The membrane between them was almost transparent. Looking closely, he could faintly make out some unknown creature curled inside.
Two raised ridges—anatomical crests.
The sight abruptly reminded him of the biology summer camp he had attended during his first year of high school, particularly the practical classes involving microscopes and dissection tools.
Knowledge he had buried deep in his mind because it was too disgusting to revisit suddenly surged back to the surface.
Qin Shu’s face stiffened. He closed his fingers and crushed the strangely textured egg with a wet splat.
Fluid burst everywhere. Warm, muddy, milky-white pulp ran between his fingers. Qin Shu sucked in a sharp breath, finally losing control of his expression. He hurriedly turned around and shouted, “Zhaozhao! Help, I need tissues—”
His call stopped abruptly.
At some point, Pei Zhao had appeared silently behind him, standing so close that their heads nearly collided.
Qin Shu had turned without thinking and could no longer stop the arm swinging around with him. It struck Pei Zhao head-on.
The wet egg slime and bits of flesh covering Qin Shu’s hand, together with the frozen corpse’s head in his arms, all pressed against Pei Zhao’s clean clothes in one unavoidable moment of intimate contact.
The two stared at each other in silence, both frozen for several seconds.
Qin Shu’s Adam’s apple bobbed. Slowly and carefully, he took one step back.
“Um, Zhaozhao, I…”
“It’s fine.”
Pei Zhao did not seem angry. He took out the tissues he always kept in his pocket, handed half to Qin Shu, and calmly lowered his head to clean the filth from his clothes.
But during that unexpected moment of eye contact, Qin Shu had clearly seen his eyes.
Pei Zhao had looked at him differently from usual. Something strange had stirred within those clear, pale-golden pupils.
Qin Shu could not describe the emotion. Pei Zhao rarely showed expressions vivid enough to read, but the sight stirred something in Qin Shu as well. His skin prickled, his mouth went dry, and his breathing suddenly became tight and difficult.
If Pei Zhao truly became angry, he would definitely be more terrifying than the severed head in Qin Shu’s arms.
But Pei Zhao genuinely was not angry.
After quickly cleaning the most obvious stains from himself, he gently took Qin Shu by the wrist, lowered his head, and wiped away the fluid still clinging between Qin Shu’s fingers. His movements were surprisingly tender.
Qin Shu stared blankly at the refined profile before him, at Pei Zhao’s softly lowered eyes beneath his loose hair, and at the faint curve lingering at the corner of his lips…
Hm?
Was he smiling?
He was definitely smiling.
“Brother Qin, excuse me, but do you still need the head?” Liu Yang Yang timidly interrupted. “If not, I need to sew it back on. Night is coming, and leaving a headless corpse around after dark is bad luck. Also, what exactly did you just crush?”
Qin Shu abruptly returned to his senses, and the wave of revulsion came rushing back. “It was a fly egg enlarged many times over. I’ve seen them before. That is exactly what fly eggs look like. It definitely wasn’t Mr. Litt’s guardian spirit. Something filthy had taken over his brain and was using it as an incubator.”
The object might have held some value for research into Gu creatures, but it was useless to Qin Shu. There was no reason to try communicating with it, and leaving it alive might allow the egg to hatch, creating even more catastrophic and unpredictable consequences.
There was no point getting greedy.
Qin Shu had therefore killed it without a moment’s hesitation.
Liu Yang Yang grimaced. “Good grief, that’s sinister. I’ve been traveling the world for more than ten years, and I’ve never seen an insect egg that large.”
He accepted Mr. Litt’s head with a sigh and pulled an utterly ordinary sewing kit from his waist pouch. It came in a plastic case—the sort parents would keep inside an old butter-cookie tin.
Then Liu Yang Yang snapped his fingers.
Poor Mr. Litt raised his right hand and slowly curled his stiff fingers around his own dry blond hair, holding his head suspended above his severed neck. The height was perfect for Liu Yang Yang to work.
Beside the cemetery, a headless corpse stood quietly holding up its own head. A muscular man nearly two meters tall held a needle and thread, squinting as he carefully threaded the needle and stitched the corpse’s flesh back together…
The bizarre sight left Qin Shu speechless for several moments before he laughed helplessly.
He had once thought such grotesque, fantastical scenes could only appear in fever dreams. He had never expected reality to be even more absurd.
Liu Yang Yang had no idea what he was thinking. His hands moved with extraordinary speed, and every knot was neat and precise, leaving almost no visible trace of the stitches. In less than five minutes, the head and arm had more or less returned to their original positions. Mr. Litt once again resembled an ordinary passerby with yellow talismans pasted over his face.
“Speaking of which, Brother Qin, do you remember Father William mentioning someone called Beelzebub?” Liu Yang Yang asked while finishing the final stitches. Now that the corpse was behaving itself, he finally had enough attention to discuss what might actually be happening. “What exactly is that? Another foreign ghost?”
“He’s a Western demon—a demon king. His most famous form is associated with flies, and his name is commonly interpreted as ‘Lord of the Flies.’ That matches what we found inside Mr. Litt’s head. The church tabernacle was full of flies too…”
Qin Shu was considering the same question. “I’ve read quite a few comics featuring Beelzebub. I thought he looked incredibly cool at the time, so I remember some of the lore. According to legend, he spreads disease among humans and can possess people. Driving him out requires sacred religious objects, such as eating a specially consecrated host.”
“Wait. Those consecrated hosts wouldn’t be the round white wafers inside the tabernacle, would they?” Liu Yang Yang’s eyes widened as realization struck. “Then it all fits together! This is Beelzebub’s evil plan!”
Suddenly terrified, his hand trembled, nearly sending the final stitches crooked. He paced anxiously back and forth, with Mr. Litt following behind him in heavy, thudding steps.
“If a demon that powerful really descends on Jiangcheng, and the sacred objects capable of restraining him have already been destroyed, who could possibly defeat him? Someone as insensitive as me might get possessed without even realizing it.”
“That makes sense, but I can’t think of a suitable solution.” Qin Shu frowned. “I can’t exactly punch every tabernacle in the city to pieces. I’d destroy all the sacred objects myself and end up doing exactly what the enemy wants.”
Qin Shu had already realized that in many unusual situations, he was helpless when acting alone.
Suppose the legendary Beelzebub truly existed. If Qin Shu kept working hard and became powerful enough, perhaps one day he really could punch Beelzebub to death.
But he still had no way to prevent a demon from descending in the first place.
The ability to avoid a battle entirely had greater strategic value than the ability to win one. After everything that had happened that week, Qin Shu had gained a rough understanding of his own condition.
He might never be capable of using magic—any kind of magic.
It was not that he had never secretly tried. He had studied it, but nothing ever happened.
The “cultivation” Daoist Priest Xu had mentioned manifested in Qin Shu through extremely simple, direct effects: he would go to sleep and wake up physically stronger; after killing several ghosts, his body would become healthier instead of exhausted; and the more unclean things he saw, the sharper his senses became.
Beyond that, every other method of cultivation was useless to him.
Since that was the case, he would not force it. It would be far more practical to seek out reliable companions and powerful, useful tools.
Liu Yang Yang was an indispensable part of that.
“So, Brother Liu, do you have a solution? I’m willing to give up my payment for this commission. If you can stop Beelzebub from descending and purify the contaminated sacred objects, I’ll do everything I can to help,” Qin Shu said solemnly. “Besides the five million, I can pay you more. Name your price.”
Qin Shu’s family circumstances were somewhat complicated, but he genuinely did not lack money. His family could not compare with Tang Rui Cheng’s staggering wealth, yet the fact that they had grown up as neighbors and their parents had always remained close already said a great deal.
“…Let me think. I definitely can’t cleanse it alone, but I can temporarily seal whatever is inside the tabernacle. It should hold for at least a few years.” Liu Yang Yang scratched his head, seemingly overwhelmed by the offer, and hurriedly began thinking. “It isn’t really my own ability. An elderly Gu practitioner from my village gave me a protective treasure. To eliminate the threat completely, I’ll have to return home and consult the elders.”
In the local dialect, Gu was known as caogui, while women who raised it within their bodies were called Gu witches. In Liu Yang Yang’s hometown, any woman still addressed by that title was an elderly and formidable master of Gu sorcery whose abilities could not be underestimated.
“Buying us time is already excellent. Thank you.” Qin Shu took out his phone without hesitation. “How much?”
“Hey, hey, bringing money into this makes us strangers, Brother Qin. Why are you mentioning payment again? I already owe you a favor. How could I possibly take your money?” Liu Yang Yang became even more flustered and hurriedly refused. “How about this? If ghosts ever hunt me down and I have nowhere else to go, I might flee to Jiangcheng for shelter. It’ll be enough if you take me in then. I genuinely don’t need money. What I lack is a powerful expert willing to keep me alive.”
“…All right. If you ever run into trouble, I’ll help you.” Qin Shu could not argue with his vehement refusal, so he could only agree for now.
The moment the words left his mouth, Liu Yang Yang’s eyes lit up. His entire demeanor changed, becoming visibly excited. To him, Qin Shu’s promise genuinely seemed more valuable than receiving five million yuan.
The three did not linger beside the gloomy cemetery. After bidding farewell to the frightened elderly nun, they returned to the church as night began to fall.
“Everyone, stand well away from me. This is going to create quite a scene,” Liu Yang Yang warned them in advance. “The treasure I’m using is poisonous. Even I don’t dare touch it for long, so whatever you do, don’t come close.”
“Is it a Gu creature? I’ve never seen one before.” Qin Shu pulled Pei Zhao farther away, though he could not suppress his curiosity. “Can men use Gu too?”
“Of course men can use a fully cultivated Gu creature. Watch closely, Brother Qin!”
Liu Yang Yang took a small green gourd-shaped bottle from his waist pouch. It appeared to be made from genuine, high-quality jade, with its mouth sealed by a black wooden stopper. The craftsmanship was remarkably fine.
He pulled out the stopper and began reciting an incantation, his entire body tense. The pronunciation sounded harsh, awkward, and ancient—unlike anything Qin Shu had ever heard.
Several seconds later, a faint sound emerged from the tiny opening.
Tap, tap, tap.
The crisp knocking was so quiet it was almost impossible to hear.
A centipede crawled out. Its countless pointed legs moved in waves as it wound itself around Liu Yang Yang’s finger. Taking its time, it curled into a small circle, opened its vicious mandibles, and began gnawing on its own tail.
It was much smaller than an ordinary centipede, only slightly larger than a venomous wild ant. Its most extraordinary feature was its brilliant golden color. Its entire body appeared to be made from pure gold, including its slowly moving antennae and venomous forcipules. At first glance, it hardly resembled a living creature at all, but rather an exquisitely carved golden ornament.
This time, Father William said nothing. Upon seeing such a strangely formed insect, he barely raised his eyes. He merely stood to one side, clutching his cross with a sorrowful expression, making no attempt to stop Liu Yang Yang.
Liu Yang Yang had no attention to spare for explanations. He continued murmuring the incantation with intense concentration until the golden centipede’s mouthparts abruptly snapped shut, biting off its own sharp rear legs together with the final segment of its body.
“Good girl, good girl. Come back to Mama now…”
Qin Shu understood that sentence, and so did the centipede missing the end of its tail. Calmly, it crawled back inside the small gourd. Liu Yang Yang immediately jammed the wooden stopper into place.
“Forgive me, Father William. And forgive me, um… Heavenly Father, sir.”
Liu Yang Yang sounded thoroughly intimidated, but what he did next was the exact opposite—practically an act of blasphemy.
Drawing a deep breath, he placed the severed centipede segment into his mouth and chewed it with crisp crunching sounds. Then, astonishingly, he took out a lighter and held it against his lips.
Click!
Whoosh—!
A wave of heat exploded through the church.
A stream of scorching, blood-red fire erupted from Liu Yang Yang’s mouth and surged directly toward the altar and the rotting tabernacle.
His towering figure was reflected in the flames. As he breathed out a torrent of fire, the enormous shadow at his feet swayed with the flickering light, making him resemble an ancient giant standing between heaven and earth. Beads of sweat evaporated in the suffocating heat, casting rippling red light across his sun-browned face.
“…That is unbelievably cool.” Qin Shu stared in amazement. He stepped sideways to shield Pei Zhao from the blast of heat and whispered, “Zhaozhao, look at him. That’s so cool. When will I ever look that impressive?”
“Don’t get like that.”
“Hm?” Qin Shu froze.
Pei Zhao seemed to be in an excellent mood.
Qin Shu could not understand why, but Pei Zhao was clearly happy. Nothing that had happened that evening had frightened him, and he appeared thoroughly satisfied with the experience of having his horizons broadened.
He even linked his arm through Qin Shu’s and lightly squeezed the muscles that instantly tensed beneath his fingers.
“I like you the way you are now,” he continued softly. “Don’t get that bulky.”
Qin Shu froze again, his mind going briefly blank.
He gave a muddled hum of acknowledgment and stared into Pei Zhao’s still-calm eyes. Instinctively, he tried to take a deep breath and nearly inhaled a mouthful of smoke and ash.
“It’s so hot. What’s going on? Why did it suddenly get even hotter…?”
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