I steadied Uncle Jianguo: “To be honest, my brain is a bit oxygen-deprived too. How did that strange couple from the same flight end up here?”
I crouched down, picked up two pieces of coal slag, and quietly smeared my face black. Uncle Jianguo followed suit, blackening his face as well. Even if Xiao Jian came over now, he wouldn’t recognize us.
Xia Jinrong respectfully opened the door and ushered the peculiar couple out. Another underling came up to report, “We caught three people this afternoon. What should we do with them?”
Xia Jinrong barked, “Why are you bothering me with such trivial matters? Confiscate their equipment, beat them up, lock them up for two days, then throw them out!” The underling nodded and retreated, afraid of being scolded further.
The couple walked slowly, supporting each other as they headed into the coal mine.
The woman in the red mask still moved sluggishly, but compared to the last time I saw her, she seemed more natural now, her movements more rhythmic. The man, on the other hand, appeared weaker.
Uncle Jianguo whispered, “Could his mother really be a zombie?”
I murmured back, “Let’s go in and see. I don’t know either.”
If she really was a zombie, then Xia Jinrong had nerves of steel. The woman’s mouth was hidden behind the mask, so I couldn’t tell if she had grown fangs.
I also couldn’t sense any aura from her.
But if the aura was skillfully concealed, even standing right in front of her wouldn’t reveal anything, let alone from a distance.
Xia Jinrong called a few men to follow him. I tapped Uncle Jianguo, and we trailed behind. I had already been inside this mine earlier—nothing seemed out of place, except for seven emaciated old ghosts working like dried-up dogs. Nothing else caught my attention.
Could there be something hidden in the darkness? Or were the cows I heard earlier actually stashed deep inside the mine?
Xia Jinrong, this country bumpkin, had some cunning after all.
As Uncle Jianguo and I followed them in, we had barely taken two steps when something thudded above us. Xia Jinrong shouted, “Jump aside!” A rock tumbled down, landing right in the middle of the group.
Damn, this wasn’t coal mining—this was digging graves! Anyone who came in would die and be buried right here. Xia Jinrong laughed nervously. “Don’t worry, folks. We’re all lucky people. Even if knives rained down, we’d survive.”
The square-faced man sneered, “Oh yeah? Stand right here, and I’ll drop a hundred knives on you. If you’re still alive, I’ll treat you to midnight snacks tonight.”
Xia Jinrong could only force a smile and lament inwardly, *What’s wrong with people these days? No sense of humor at all.*
The deeper we went, the colder and eerier the air became. I suddenly felt uneasy—this wasn’t the same as when I entered earlier.
Uncle Jianguo whispered, “Is something fishy going on?”
No sooner had he spoken than a rapid *clip-clop* sound echoed from ahead. It sounded like galloping hooves. I yanked Uncle Jianguo aside, pressing us both against the wall. There’s a festival in Spain where bulls chase hundreds of people—all for the thrill and frenzy of it.
Every year, a few unlucky souls end up trampled and bloodied.
Now, it seemed the same madness was about to unfold inside this mine. The *clip-clop* grew louder—a stampede of frenzied bulls.
The woman in the red mask suddenly moved faster, pressing herself against the wall as well.
Xia Jinrong yelled, “They’ve gone mad! They’ve gone mad!”
Sure enough, a gust of wind, stirred by violent movement, surged from the depths of the dark mine.
Xia Jinrong also found a spot to hide.
The sound grew deafening. Lights flashed, illuminating a herd of water buffalo charging forward, packed tightly together.
Uncle Jianguo and I had rubbed our eyes with cow tears earlier, so we could clearly see that seven of the old ghosts were riding atop the buffalo.
They had endured endless torment—working over a dozen hours a day, starving, never resting, no holidays, year after year of overtime—worse than IT workers. The worst part? They weren’t even treated as ghosts, stripped of all dignity.
The seven old ghosts drove the herd forward. I quickly counted under the light—exactly seven buffalo.
The force of the stampede was overwhelming. Once the buffalo had passed, Xia Jinrong chuckled nervously. “See? We’re all blessed. No way a bunch of cattle could kill us.”
The square-faced man scoffed, “Sure. Why don’t you let them trample you a bit longer?”
Xia Jinrong smirked arrogantly. “When those beasts were humans, I wasn’t afraid of them. Now that they’re buffalo, you think I’d be scared?”
I was stunned. Xia Jinrong had killed at least seven people—utterly devoid of fear or reverence for the supernatural. Uncle Jianguo clenched his fists so hard they cracked like roasted beans, barely restraining his rage from reducing Xia Jinrong to pulp.
The square-faced man shook his head and sneered at Xia Jinrong. “You really are uneducated. Don’t even know how to write the word ‘death.’ Didn’t you see the seven ghosts riding those buffalo?”
Only then did Xia Jinrong pale, his hands trembling. “Please… save me.”
The man said coldly, “Let’s keep moving. Those seven old ghosts won’t cause trouble.”
The woman in the red mask suddenly dashed ahead, her speed startling—as if she were a completely different person. The man stopped talking to Xia Jinrong and hurried after her.
Xia Jinrong hesitated. He rarely ventured this deep into the mine and had no idea what lay ahead. He had nearly been crushed by falling rocks twice before, and fear gnawed at him.
One of his men asked nervously, “Boss… should we go in?”
Xia Jinrong cursed. “Damn it, let’s check it out.”
Only after Xia Jinrong followed them in could Uncle Jianguo and I slip in behind. The dim yellow lights inside the mine flickered as we hurried deeper.
At the very end, piles of coal slag littered the ground.
The woman in the red mask stood before the slag, motionless.
I realized we had reached the heart of the mountain.
The woman scanned the surroundings carefully. The tense atmosphere made even Xia Jinrong afraid to breathe too loudly. He whispered, “What… are you looking for in the belly of this mountain?”
The man snapped, “Don’t ask questions you shouldn’t.”
Uncle Jianguo stepped forward. “Who do you think you’re talking to?”
The man chuckled darkly and positioned himself as a guard, keeping others at bay.
Suddenly, the woman raised two fingers.
The man immediately handed her a compass with reverence.
Only then did I understand—they weren’t husband and wife but master and servant. The woman was the master, the man her subordinate.
The woman held the compass expertly, its delicate needle spinning rapidly.
I had used compasses before and knew their mystical properties.
Sometimes, one could sense the needle’s movements, forming an intuitive magnetic field.
But what was the woman searching for?
I stared but couldn’t figure it out.
Abruptly, the woman tossed the compass back to the man and pointed at a spot.
The man ordered workers to dig there or use a coal drill.
After half an hour of labor, a drill bit snapped—it had hit something extremely hard.
What they unearthed was an ancient stone coffin, buried deep in the earth.
Once hauled out, the woman leaped onto it, still silent, studying its surface.
I had seen a similar coffin beneath an old building once. Back then, the mechanism to open it required a jade ruler.
What was the secret of this one?
The woman remained silent, seemingly stumped. She finally jumped down, her movements slowing again.
The coffin was identical in size to the one from the old building. It was loaded onto a truck and driven away before we could follow.
Uncle Jianguo and I exchanged glances—this didn’t bode well.
Xia Jinrong exhaled in relief and cursed. “Those two idiots. If I weren’t so patient, I’d have killed them already. Who cares if they’re rich?”
Typical of a small-town tyrant—he only dared to talk big once the bigger fish had left.
Uncle Jianguo and I slipped away, both convinced the woman and man were up to no good, stealing a stone coffin from the mine.
Uncle Jianguo asked, “What’s really going on?”
I thought for a moment. “When we first came in, I studied the mine’s layout. This mountain sits on a dragon vein—a convergence of geomantic energy. Someone buried a coffin here. Could those two be descendants of whoever’s inside?”
Uncle Jianguo shook his head. “No point guessing. The quickest way is to deal with Xia Jinrong and squeeze some answers out of him.”
We made up our minds. I had wanted to settle things with Xia Jinrong for a while—he still owed us for the last exorcism.
We grabbed two sharp knives from the kitchen.
Uncle Jianguo hadn’t even recouped the cost of the Taoist robes and ritual tools he bought online.
Xia Jinrong usually slept in his office at night. The workers’ dormitories were below, though some laborers from Lügang Town went home to sleep with their wives.
That night, Xia Jinrong called in a few men and ordered them to retrieve the escaped buffalo by dawn—each had a centipede brand on its hoof.
“Boss, don’t worry. It’s just seven buffalo. We’ll find them.”
Xia Jinrong frowned. “Learn your measure words! It’s *seven head* of cattle, not *seven buffalo*!”
“Got it, Boss. Rest well.”
Once they left, Uncle Jianguo ghosted to the door and knocked. Disguising his voice, he said, “Boss, I’d like to go home early this year. Can I get my wages in advance?”
Xia Jinrong cursed. “It’s peak coal season, and you want to leave?”
The door cracked open. Uncle Jianguo lunged, grabbing Xia Jinrong.
Xia Jinrong’s eyes widened. “What the—?”
I stepped in. “Both of us. Sit down. We have questions.”
Xia Jinrong stayed eerily calm. “You two fake priests. What do you want?”
Uncle Jianguo, seething, slapped him eight times in rapid succession. “How many people have you killed?”
Xia Jinrong sneered, his face already swollen.
I nudged Uncle Jianguo aside. “Let me make him talk.”
I placed a hand on Xia Jinrong’s shoulder and activated the Three Corpse Worms inside him.
Most people, tormented by the worms, would beg for death. Normally, I only activated one—or just intestinal parasites. But Xia Jinrong had pushed me too far.
He collapsed, writhing, clutching his crotch as if it were being severed. He pounded the floor, begging for mercy.
Between gasps, he confessed:
“The couple paid me to let them inspect the mine. I took the money—who refuses free cash? The man who helped me control the ghosts was called Flying Centipede, from the China Taoist Association. But then he disappeared, so I hired his apprentice, Gu Xiulian.”
Halfway through his confession, an underling banged on the door.
“Boss! The county police are here! The mayor and some officials came for an inspection but lost contact. Someone saw them near our mine!”
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