Feng Chengyuan lifted his eyelids and swept Jiang Jin with a cold glance. “What did you say?”
Jiang Jin fell silent at once, but his face still wore an unmistakable pout of displeasure.
Deng Yang, standing behind him, rolled his eyes. He suddenly understood why so many rich kids at school got taken in—Yu Qing had completely fooled him. Apparently Jiang Jin was hopelessly sentimental, a soft-hearted fool where feelings were concerned.
Yu Nian didn’t look angry. She strolled over to the she-demon with an easy smile and asked, “How would you like me to save you?”
She looked down at the demon from above. Though she smiled, her eyes were like autumn water—clear, unruffled, able to see through any pretension or lie.
The she-demon was cowed. Her lips moved, but no whole sentence came out.
Unable to bear Yu Nian’s authoritative gaze, Bai Siyan looked away and shot a pleading look at Jiang Jin.
Jiang Jin immediately stepped forward as if to protect her.
A flicker of sympathy crossed Yu Nian’s face. She almost wanted to ask how someone like Jiang Jin had grown up so safe, his guard so low he would willingly turn his back to a vengeful spirit. Had it not been for the red cord binding the she-demon to her place, the creature would have latched onto Jiang Jin long ago.
Yu Nian checked the time without seeming to, then said suddenly, “You are pitiful. Very well—I’ll help you cross over. I’ll send you to be reborn.”
As if afraid anyone might miss her words, she used an amplification talisman so her voice carried far.
Guan Sheng frowned, about to speak, when a dark red shadow flickered across his peripheral vision.
The tomb chamber had no strong light; everything sat half-swallowed by dimness. The talisman flames cast wavering silhouettes on the wall, like figures behind frosted glass. Guan stared at them for a long moment, then tugged Deng Yang’s sleeve and, pointing to the shadows on the wall, whispered, “There are five of us, right?”
Deng Yang blinked in confusion. “What else would there be?”
He thought Guan was simply rattled and patted his head to soothe him. “Don’t worry—what’s a shadow to be scared of?”
Guan batted his hand away and counted the shadows with clipped fingers. “This one’s mine. These two are Yu Nian’s and Feng Chengyuan’s. Those two are you and Jiang Jin. Everyone knows the she-demon has no shadow.” He hesitated; his voice shook a little. “So whose is that sixth shadow?”
Deng Yang followed his finger. A sixth silhouette stood alone a short distance from them, fixed and staring.
Deng Yang’s face drained of color. He shouted for Yu Nian, pointing to the wall.
Guan’s jaw tightened as he produced the talisman Yu Nian had given him earlier. He caught Yu Nian’s eye and something resolute and tragic flashed across his face—as if to say: Whatever that thing is, I’ll face it.
Yu Nian was briefly amused. She shook her head slowly, then pressed a yellow talisman to the she-demon’s lips to silence her and keep her from coordinating with whatever lurked beyond the wall. She put a finger to her own lips, motioning for absolute quiet.
At her motion the sigil-flame she’d been holding guttered out.
Silence fell over the tomb like a blanket. You could hear a pin drop; every heartbeat seemed unbearably loud.
Then, from the narrow passage of the tomb, came a grinding, crunching sound—low and heavy, like something chewing on bone. It set teeth on edge.
A rank, metallic stench rolled through the air.
Jiang Jin had never been so frightened. He felt his heart jump up into his throat.
The sound stopped as suddenly as it had begun. Everyone exhaled, relief washing over them—for a moment.
Then the sound reappeared, right above their heads. It was unnaturally close, a whisper in the dark that ticked at their ears.
Jiang Jin felt his scalp split with cold panic. His hands shook so badly he accidentally hit his phone on, and the screen’s light tore through the dark.
The glow revealed a monstrous face pressed against his. It was enormous, dripping blood that pooled onto Jiang Jin’s hand. The ghastly face grinned, a smile warped and obscene.
Jiang Jin screamed and scrambled backward, tripping and skidding several steps.
The old ghost wouldn’t let go. It lunged at him with a rictus grin.
Yu Nian’s face had gone pale, but she moved with lethal speed and flipped the old ghost onto the floor.
Deng Yang stared at the face for a beat, then blinked in recognition and let out a startled, “Professor Sun?! What are you doing here?”
Yu Nian said flatly, “If I’m not mistaken, you’ve been following us.”
Professor Sun’s features were grotesquely stretched; his bloodshot eyes stared without blinking. At Yu Nian’s accusation, he burst into a crazed laugh. His body looked swollen, his voice a rasp, and there was a killing cold in his expression.
“Master—don’t listen to that bitch’s lies!” the she-demon cried when she saw him. She shrank back as if in terror, trembling.
Jiang Jin, taken aback, demanded, “What did you just say?”
The old ghost glowered at Bai Siyan and spat insults. “Bai Siyan is a lying viper! Her story about her origins is all made up. She wasn’t some poor sixteen-year-old who wandered off—she was twenty when she first showed up. She wormed her way into my trust with fake tears and false tales so she could team up with men from outside the mansion and sell off my fields and ancestral home. She only wanted to run away with that bastard!”
He paused, sorrow darkening his eyes. “I fought on countless battlefields and won great honors, only to be executed by the emperor for being too powerful. The court feared my restless spirit and hired sorcerers to seal my coffin layer upon layer. I couldn’t reincarnate, couldn’t avenge myself. The pure-yang array in this tomb tormented my soul every day—I went mad and devoured the souls of my own kin. I am innocent! Master, please judge fairly!”
The scene in front of them was absurd and obscene—two ancient malevolent spirits hurling opposite accounts at one another, treating Yu Nian like a judge who alone could decide right from wrong.
Yu Nian kept a mocking smile. Her expression was cool and untroubled as she looked at Professor Sun. “If you hate Bai Siyan so much,” she said, “I can seal her in front of you now, forever keeping you apart. How does that sound?”
She formed the hand signs to begin a rite.
Professor Sun’s features darkened. His murderous aura swelled, magnified by several degrees. His eyes went wide and furious. “No!” he roared.
Yu Nian tilted her head and smiled, utterly composed. “Oh?”