Chapter 103: Long Awaited

A handful of mud blocked Abe’s lips. The little rascal coughed twice, likely inhaling quite a bit of it.

I felt my speed seemed to increase, and my reflexes were several times faster than before. Abe cursed, “If I weren’t so exhausted today, I’d fly up and kill you. I’d unleash my demon brigade to tear you apart…”

I sat on top of Abe, slapping him repeatedly across the face: “Say one more word, just one more…”

“Long live the Emperor!” Abe shouted. Without mercy, I gave him ten more slaps, swelling his mouth until blood trickled from the corners.

Maruoxing stepped forward to mediate: “Better to resolve enmity than to prolong it. A spar should end when it’s enough.”

I stood up from Abe: “Come find me again after you’ve rested. I’ll still finish you…”

Abe was about to retort but shut his mouth when he saw I was ready to strike again.

Helped up by Alang, he muttered, “This was just kids fighting, not a real battle of Daoist arts. Just fooling around.”

Abe spat out the dirt in his mouth and pointed at me, growling, “Once I’ve rested, we’ll fight again.”

Dai Hao, seeing that I had first defeated Zuo Shan and then subdued Abe, said, “Sir, you can eat spiders and beat the Japs. Tomorrow’s task depends on you.”

I turned and left, my achievements hidden, my name unspoken.

Little Rascal followed behind me, wagging his tail, lifting his hind leg at the door to mark his territory.

A light rain fell all night, and the village grew quiet.

After venting my anger, I felt much better. Anna looked at me and asked, “Is there no way for you and the Japanese to reconcile? After so many years, haven’t the wounds of war healed? Must this hatred be passed down through generations?”

“Reporter Anna, have you ever heard a story?”

“What?”

“The Nanjing Massacre,” I asked.

Anna looked at me skeptically: “Is that a story?”

“The Japanese have always claimed it’s a tale fabricated by the Chinese. If they refuse to acknowledge their wrongdoing, how can we reconcile? Were the 300,000 lives lost in Nanjing shed in vain? Were the 30 million Chinese lives lost across the country all for nothing?”

Anna fell silent.

Unintentionally, Anna shifted the sheet covering her, revealing her long legs. The suppressed flames in my heart reignited.

Anna, open-minded as she was, noticed my gaze and pulled the sheet aside completely: “It’s too hot under this…” Only then did I realize she wore nothing above.

Little Rascal barked and ran out.

I grabbed Anna’s legs and lifted them. A mixed-blood beauty, she possessed both the softness of the East and the endurance of the West, her moans bewitching. But most enchanting was her mouth—her agile tongue delivering sensations beyond imagination. The lingering effects of the Blood Spider’s toxin were too strong, and I finally lost control…

[1,400 words omitted…]

The next day, the rain grew heavier, showing no signs of stopping.

Water dripped from the eaves, and the forest echoed with the croaking of frogs, brimming with life.

Qi Qiqi awoke to the sound of rain, her fever gone, her complexion much improved. But the sight of Abe still sickened her, souring her mood. I asked Xie Lingyu to take care of her.

Qi Qiqi drank some porridge and regained her energy. The scabs on her arms were slowly forming—just a matter of time for full recovery. Seeing Bai Yueming safe, she sighed in relief.

Around ten in the morning, Dai Hao led us to the corpse-nurturing ground behind the village—a clearing near the drug factory.

Large umbrellas shielded us as we stood on uneven terrain, matching the “Dead Ox Belly” feng shui formation. This was a land of yin, unfit for burial, likely chosen in haste during chaotic times.

The black soil was overgrown with weeds, mostly cold-natured plants, including the highly toxic Heartbreak Grass. Few insects stirred in the grass, not even mosquitoes.

I took out the golden compass to measure the location. The needle trembled erratically—a sure sign of a cursed land. A faint corpse miasma seeped from the soil, raising goosebumps on my skin.

Dai Hao said, “Gentlemen, do you have what it takes to subdue the earth-nurtured corpse? Remember—do not kill it. It’s my ancestor.”

Zuo Shan, Alang, Maruoxing, Abe, and I took our positions, shielded by female soldiers with rifles trained on us from a nearby ridge—not for the corpse, but for us.

Zuo Shan and Alang prepared similar tools—ghoul masks. Alang’s Twin-Headed Ghost Infant, usually kept in a temple, wasn’t brought along. Neither seemed confident in subduing the corpse, as suppressing zombies was the expertise of Onmyoji and Maoshan practitioners.

Maruoxing wielded a peachwood sword and various Chenzhou talismans, expensive and rain-damaged, their potency weakened.

Abe, dressed in full Onmyoji regalia, laid out his talismans. Japanese Onmyoji drew from the Five Elements theory, later blending Daoist secrets and esoteric divination. After crossing the sea to Fusang, their craft flourished, peaking in the Heian period. Each Onmyoji had a “Shikigami”—a spirit to aid their arts. On Abe’s table lay paper cutouts, ready to summon his: a demon hound from another realm.

My table was large, holding a jar of Bai Yueming’s feces, women’s underwear (easily sourced in the village), and aged slop—though century-old fermented tofu brine from White Water Village would’ve been better. A black ore weighed down floating corpse-suppressing talismans.

But securing virgin boy’s urine proved difficult—no children in the village. In the end, I tricked Little Rascal into contributing.

Dai Hao frowned at my table’s contents but nodded approvingly at Abe’s setup—one refined, the other crude.

“General Dai, should we dig up the coffin?” I asked. “Waiting isn’t helping.”

Dai shook his head. “Someone predicted it would emerge today—it will.”

“Who could be so precise?”

“The owner of your compass. He warned me never to dig my ancestor up prematurely. If disturbed before waking, his rage would be catastrophic.” Dai trusted the man implicitly.

A rustle in the grass made Dai step back—just a wild rabbit.

Hours passed in the rain, our bodies numb from the wind. No sign of Dai Zhong breaking free. Even the corpse miasma had faded.

Little Rascal dozed on the table. I grew drowsy, wondering what an earth-nurtured corpse even was. If it could counter the indestructible Bronze Armor Zombie, how terrifying must it be? If things went south, I’d bolt—let the Onmyoji handle it.

The rain worsened. Dai said the compass’s owner only gave the day, not the hour. He suggested we retreat.

No one wanted to stay under armed guard. As we dispersed, I noticed the tropical downpour washing away the black soil.

Danger was closing in.

During a break, I met Xie Lingyu: “So many died fighting the Bronze Armor Zombie. If the earth-nurtured corpse counters it, tonight’s toll could be worse. A hundred machine guns won’t help. If we can’t subdue it, we flee.”

“Agreed. What about Anna?” Xie Lingyu asked pragmatically—an extra person slowed us down.

With Qi Qiqi, the Jade Corpse, Xie Lingyu, Little Rascal, and Bai Yueming, adding Anna would hinder our escape.

I hesitated. “Let her fend for herself.”

Xie Lingyu nodded. The Jade Corpse, still asleep (drunkenness did that), didn’t need the blanket I draped over her.

“She doesn’t feel cold,” Xie Lingyu said.

I privately warned Qi Qiqi: “Stick with Xie Lingyu and Bai Yueming. Do as she says. These drug lords kill easier than slaughtering pigs.”

“Who’re you calling a pig?” Qi Qiqi retorted.

By afternoon, Dai regrouped us, tightening surveillance. The village tensed under oppressive pressure.

Luckily, the rain stopped. Sunlight brought steam, turning the forest into a sauna. Sweat poured uncomfortably.

Even the composed Dai grew restless, pacing with thick ropes to bind Dai Zhong upon emergence.

“General Dai, about those shipments to Japan—could the price drop?” Abe seized the moment to haggle.

“Of course. Premium stock for Tokyo. I know you have many mouths to feed,” Dai conceded smoothly.

The sunset was beautiful—but dusk meant rising yin. As the last light vanished, a collective gasp rose.

A sound echoed—like someone turning over in their sleep.

The earth-nurtured corpse was waking.