Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Five-Fingered Blood

Alone at night, chasing after a corpse... just the thought of it felt absurd and reckless.

But I was different. I was playing the lone hero not because I wasn’t afraid, but because I felt a responsibility, a duty to ensure my squad leader could finally rest in peace, to free him from the schemes and conspiracies that haunted him.

Moreover, the very fact that my old squad leader seemed to have risen from the dead stirred countless questions within me.

Deep down, I sensed that behind these strange events, a shadowy hand was manipulating everything.

Though I still didn’t know whose hand it was, I knew that many had already stirred at the mere scent of my squad leader’s death, at the last thread of bloodline the Zhao family still held.

But their true intentions? That remained unclear to me.

Within this tangled web, Xian Hongye claimed that the exorcist held hostility toward me and nearly killed me; Lei Ren said he wanted to see the ancestral kitchen knife my squad leader left behind; Zhao Shuihe said that when my old squad leader died, she wanted to face it with a smile...

Ugh! I didn’t know whom to believe, because even my old squad leader, when alive, told me, “Bu’er! You come! When you come, I’ll break the white food curse for you. Once it’s broken, you can help me with a little task...”

Help with what?! A resurrection at a funeral... was he asking me to collect his body? It was too ironic!

In short, within the gloomy halls of the Zhao family mansion, I felt there wasn’t a single normal person. And because of these abnormal people, I was on the verge of losing my mind.

Of all the strange characters I encountered, the “old lady” who shaped dough figures was by far the most bizarre.

With just a single phrase, she had spirited away my squad leader’s mighty corpse. The method was so peculiar, the purpose so ambiguous, I couldn’t help but wonder... which temple’s formidable figure was she really?

But... I had little time to ponder these chaotic questions in detail, because just as I rushed out of the Zhao family gate, chasing that old lady’s sharp laughter, I ran straight into an even more formidable “character.”

I collided headlong with a strange man!

Strangely enough, after I left the Zhao family, I couldn’t see my squad leader’s corpse, nor the old lady clutching her white doll with that sinister grin—but I could clearly hear her piercing laughter.

It seemed that laughter was just around the corner of the alley before me, as if if I turned the bend, I would see that old hag.

But when I did turn the corner, there was nothing but emptiness, and the laughter, with the call of “son, son,” would always come from another alley at a different angle.

At first, overwhelmed and distracted, I didn’t notice anything unusual.

Driven by urgency, clutching a protective stool, I pursued the laughter through many stone alleys and narrow passages of Zhao Family Village.

But the longer I chased, the more abnormal it felt.

I had seen that old lady twice; her health was poor and she shouldn’t have been able to run fast. I was in my prime and should have easily outrun her.

Yet, no matter how much I chased, I only heard her voice, never saw her. What was going on?

Growing doubts weighed heavily on my mind, and my pace gradually slowed. Along with those doubts, the fear I had suppressed began to rise again.

Suddenly, I felt as if I had walked into a trap. That old lady might only be bait. If I blindly chased after that eerie laughter, I might fall straight into someone else’s well-laid snare, a trap that could mean certain death.

Calming my nerves, I thought it wise to plan—at least to contact my backup team, my brothers Xian Hongye and Zhao Hong, before making my next move.

But just as I stopped and reached for my phone to discuss a strategy, a man suddenly burst out from a corner of a stone alley just behind and to my side!

Night was just settling; I had no time to react. I barely shouted “Watch out!” before colliding full force with the man.

Because we were both moving hastily, neither paid attention to the other. The collision was direct and painful.

With a sharp thud, we both clutched our chests and dropped to our knees.

Instantly, the scene descended into chaos.

Not only was I knocked into a dog paddle-like stumble, but my phone slipped from my grasp, bounced off the brick wall of the alley, and shattered right before my eyes.

Staring at the fragments on the ground, panic seized me. I turned around, wincing in pain but glaring fiercely at this reckless bastard.

I already suspected his intentions!

At that moment, the man who had been knocked down collapsed onto the ground wailing loudly. He covered his face with both hands, head bowed; I couldn’t see his features but felt he had been hurt badly, too.

Being suddenly slammed from the front-left side was indescribably painful. It was as if a heavy stone pressed against my chest and waist, leaving me momentarily speechless.

Thus, I didn’t immediately curse him out.

After a long moment, catching my breath from the collision, I sized up this reckless man and scolded, “Are you blind, damn it?!”

He kept his head down, hands over his face, crying in fits and starts. His sobbing was even more unsettling than the old lady’s laughter—after a while, it made my ears tingle.

A grown man crying like that over a mere bump... was that necessary?

Curiosity overtook me. I calmed myself and looked down at the man covering his face.

In the dim early night, I couldn’t clearly see his clothes, but I vaguely sensed he wore a gray coat.

He was of medium build—not fat, not thin—and kept crying, hiding his face.

His sobbing, with hands pressed tight against his face, filled me with an odd chill.

I felt fear because, between his fingers, I saw blood seeping through in large amounts.

Seeing the blood-stained fingers, my anger turned completely to dread.

Did I really collide with him? That seemed unlikely. We had hit chests, so why was he holding his bloody face? Why the bleeding...?

Still, to be safe, I asked in a trembling voice, “Who... who exactly are you? What happened to your face?”

He kept crying, but stammered in a tearful voice, “I... I am...”

As he spoke, he slowly lifted his head; the bloody hand covering his face gradually loosened...

And then, I saw his face.