Chapter 51: A Haunted Village in the Wilderness

The little black cub rubbed his sleepy eyes and said in a milky voice, “Mommy…”

“Blackie, where’s your dad?” Yao Zuizui’s expression was unusually grave, a stark contrast to the usual relaxed and carefree atmosphere between mother and child.

Encountering ghosts had become a common occurrence since arriving in this dimension, and she wasn’t afraid. But it wouldn’t be good if she accidentally lost her life.

Through observation, Yao Zuizui had discovered that Blackie and Suhei shared a special psychic connection, so Blackie must know where that heartless Suhei was right now.

When it came to supernatural events, only Suhei had the power to protect her and Blackie. Right now, she felt utterly useless.

Still groggy from sleep, Blackie tilted his head and thought seriously for a moment before his eyes lit up. His chubby little finger pointed toward the direction the bus was heading: “Daddy is right ahead!”

His sparkling black eyes, like grapes, were filled with joy and excitement at the prospect of seeing his father.

Yao Zuizui couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy.

Blackie was the child she had carried for ten months and raised single-handedly. She had fed him, changed his diapers—so why did he adore that absentee father so much?!

What she failed to realize was that it was Suhei who had personally transformed Blackie from a one-month-old baby into a five-year-old. He was the one who had spent the most time with Blackie during his growth.

Blackie’s tiny hand nestled in Yao Zuizui’s as he skipped ahead happily, overjoyed at the thought of seeing his father, seemingly oblivious to the eerie atmosphere surrounding the passengers on the bus.

Yao Zuizui walked to the bus door and stared at the rapidly receding scenery outside, feeling stumped.

The bus was still moving—how were they supposed to get off?

There was no driver, so she couldn’t ask for the bus to stop.

And she certainly couldn’t drive the bus herself.

“Mommy, this bus is going straight to Daddy. We don’t need to get off,” Blackie said, like a little angel, instantly reading her thoughts and squeezing her hand reassuringly.

Yao Zuizui never doubted Blackie’s words. She adored this obedient, sensible child with his mysterious abilities.

“That convenient? Well, that saves trouble,” Yao Zuizui said, relieved, returning to her seat but refusing to glance out the window again.

Outside, the landscape was filled with graves. As the bus sped forward, the graves grew denser, eventually piling up like small hills.

Since they had set off in the afternoon, night had gradually fallen.

Countless graves were now illuminated by eerie will-o’-the-wisps, their density sending chills down the spine with just a glance.

“Mommy, we’re almost there,” Blackie said, hugging Yao Zuizui’s waist and nuzzling his chubby little face against her.

Following his words, Yao Zuizui looked outside.

Darkness had descended swiftly.

Just moments ago, it had been dusk, but within minutes, the sunset had vanished, replaced by an oppressive night that enveloped the bus.

The scenery outside was no longer endless graves but a village.

The village was filled with houses, tall and short, all crude in construction. The bus wound its way through the center of the village.

None of the houses had lights on, leaving only the dim glow of the bus’s headlights to illuminate the surroundings.

Every house looked sinister, with dark, hollow windows like the empty eye sockets of skulls, staring endlessly into the void.

Finally, the bus came to a slow stop.

With a creak, the door opened as the bus halted. The passengers, like zombies, stood up and shuffled toward the exit.

But unexpectedly, the door seemed blocked by an invisible barrier. The passengers moved mechanically but couldn’t step outside, only marching in place.

“It seems someone has placed a protective barrier on this bus to keep them from leaving and being attacked by the ghosts outside,” Yao Zuizui observed from a distance.

“Mommy, let’s go,” Blackie said. While she was speaking, he had somehow created a large hole on the other side of the bus.

Grinning at her, he made Yao Zuizui marvel once again at her son’s inexplicable abilities.

Holding Blackie’s hand, Yao Zuizui was the first to step through the hole.

But behind her, the passengers followed.

Yao Zuizui frowned. “Blackie, can you keep them inside? It’s too dangerous out here.”

“Mommy, they’re already dead,” Blackie said solemnly, his big round eyes fixed on her. “Following them is the only way to find Daddy.”

Reluctantly, Yao Zuizui trailed behind the passengers, matching their slow pace.

She and Blackie were the only living beings, naturally attracting every ghost within miles.

Yet, whether because of Blackie or some other reason, the closest ghost kept a meter’s distance, watching her with a mix of greed and fear.

There were long-haired female ghosts in white, barefoot children in red bellybands—Yao Zuizui had now seen every type of ghost imaginable.

They jostled against each other, eager yet hesitant, their hollow eyes flickering with eerie light.

“Kind girl, could you spare a drop of your blood?” an aged voice pleaded. “Just one sip is all I ask. Please.”

Before Yao Zuizui could respond, others chimed in.

“I only need a sip too.”

“Please, just one drop.”

They didn’t dare approach the living girl, for both she and the child beside her exuded an aura that made their spectral hearts tremble.

Like humans, ghosts adhered to a strict hierarchy.

They wouldn’t dare overstep, lest they face the dire consequence of soul-shattering annihilation.

All they could do was beg for a taste of her blood.

Even through skin and veins, they could sense the intoxicating sweetness of her lifeblood—this girl was special, her essence a hundred times more precious than an ordinary human’s.

“Hmph, bold of you to speak so insolently to the Mistress of the Netherworld!” A familiar, aged voice rang out nearby. Yao Zuizui approached and recognized the old woman from her ghostly wedding night.

Time had etched countless wrinkles into her face, yet her eyes remained sharp and clear, unclouded by age.

Behind her loomed a massive cave, its entrance like a gaping maw in the darkness, exhaling icy gusts that promised to swallow anyone who dared enter.

“Mommy, Daddy’s inside. Don’t be scared,” Blackie said, squeezing her hand with a brave expression that warmed Yao Zuizui’s heart.

“I’m not scared at all,” she reassured him, pinching his chubby cheeks affectionately.

At the mention of “Mistress of the Netherworld,” the surrounding ghosts scattered in an instant, vanishing like smoke.

The old woman pulled out a red cloth from her sleeve. “Mistress, the Master instructed that your eyes be covered before entering.”

Yao Zuizui was puzzled. Did Suhei have some shameful secret to hide from her?

“Mommy, Daddy doesn’t have secrets. It’s just… what’s inside the hall would upset you. It’s better if you don’t see,” Blackie explained seriously, shooting the old woman a look to hurry up with the blindfold.

Yao Zuizui wanted to remove it—she’d seen it all before. What could possibly frighten her in some ghostly hall?

“Mommy, you’re too kind-hearted. The sights inside would disturb you,” Blackie said, adjusting the cloth carefully to ensure no gaps remained.

His earnest, grown-up tone amused her.

Before she could retort, he continued, “On your wedding night, Daddy never lifted your red veil because he didn’t want you to see the horrors inside. Normally, the veil is removed so the ghosts can see you clearly. That’s why they dared to speak so rudely today.”

Though small and still speaking in a child’s voice, Blackie carried an inexplicable authority beyond his years.

For some reason, Yao Zuizui felt a crack in the icy walls around her heart.

A tiny, almost imperceptible fissure.

She simply touched the blindfold and let Blackie lead her forward.

She didn’t know why Suhei had lured the bus passengers here, but she followed Blackie blindly into the hall.

“Mommy, Daddy works so hard,” Blackie said again, a refrain he repeated daily.

Yet he never elaborated on what exactly made Suhei’s life so difficult.

Yao Zuizui felt aggrieved. She was the one who had raised Blackie through thick and thin—why did he only ever sing Suhei’s praises?

That ghost must have taken some brainwashing course and succeeded in indoctrinating her son!

Yao Zuizui fumed.

As they entered the hall, the temperature dropped sharply. Though there was no wind, the cold pierced to the bone.

The space was vast and silent, devoid of any sound.

“Go sleep.” A cold, somber voice spoke—Suhei’s.

Listening closely, Yao Zuizui detected a hint of weakness in his tone, as if he were injured.

Frowning, she decided that for Blackie’s sake, she ought to show some concern.

“Are you okay?” A feeble attempt at comfort.

Yet it softened the gloom in his demeanor by a fraction.

“Go sleep,” he repeated, the edge in his voice slightly gentler now.

Hmph. So stiff. How did someone like him end up with such an adorable son?

Grumbling internally, Yao Zuizui took Blackie’s hand and followed the old woman to the same bridal chamber from that fateful night.

Exhausted from the journey, Yao Zuizui felt drowsy but fought to stay awake.

She feared Suhei might get ideas again and pull another ghostly bed-sharing stunt.

With the child present, how inappropriate would that be?

But her worries proved unnecessary—Suhei never appeared that night.

Despite her fears, she slept soundly until dawn, undisturbed by dreams.

The next morning, Blackie woke her in a panic.

“Mommy, something terrible happened!” His big round eyes were wet with urgency.

Blackie was usually a precocious, composed child, always grinning with mischief in his grape-like eyes.

Yao Zuizui had never seen him so distraught.

As if his father had died.

…

Little did she know, Blackie’s father was indeed on the brink of death…