Chapter 55: Ghost Marriage (7)

Wu Zui and Xiao Ke'ai searched the collapsed houses nearby, looking for survivors. They found no wounded, only the large bone-cutting knife that had once been the black umbrella of the scarred man, and their own golden weapons.

The houses around them were filled with corpses, crushed either by the collapse or trampled into flesh by the pig-headed monsters. It seemed those who survived had already fled far away; no one remained.

By the time their search ended, it was already past three in the morning. Wu Zui decided to return to the car with Xiao Ke'ai and rest for a few hours. Tomorrow, they'd check if anything unusual was happening in the neighboring Nanshan Village. If all was well, they could conclude this mission.

Sitting in the car, Wu Zui gazed at the glass bead formed from the ghost mist by fire. The bead still held a wisp of black smoke, as thin as a strand of hair, reminiscent of the sins that once clung to humans.

He watched it sink into sleep, while beside him, Xiao Ke'ai was already softly snoring. After a day of work and a fierce battle, both were exhausted.

The smoke on the glass bead belonged to the ghost bride's memories—a young woman who, heartbroken, committed suicide by taking sleeping pills at school. The school compensated her family, who held a ghost marriage for her. In the past, perhaps that would have been the end of it.

But with the outbreak of supernatural unrest, the couple performing the ghost marriage absorbed the resentment of all those forced into such unions, and the scarred man used his magnetic abilities to merge them, creating ghost mist that could absorb magnetic and resentful energies.

The “Purifying Society” mentioned by the scarred man intrigued Wu Zui. It seemed they possessed methods for awakened individuals to control ghosts, but the risks were severe; a moment's carelessness could see the ghost turn on its master.

From the fragmented memories of the ghost bride and groom, Wu Zui surmised the scarred man had been influenced by the butcher ghost’s resentment, causing him to foolishly swallow it whole. Wu Zui had wondered why the scarred man hadn’t fled—he’d only trapped the ghost mist with fire, not the man himself.

“I’ll report everything tomorrow. For now, sleep.”

Thanks to the increased magnetic energy in his body, Wu Zui could now examine the memories within the smoke with little effect; he no longer fell unconscious for long. The memories were few, so he finished in under half an hour and still had time to rest.

The next day.

Sunlight returned to Old Mountain Village, and the resentment energy visible only to awakened ones had vanished. The morning was peaceful, and after confirming nothing was amiss, Wu Zui and Xiao Ke'ai drove away, heading toward Nanshan Village.

...

“Om Amitabha...”

As they approached the village, chanting drifted to their ears. It sounded like Buddhist Sanskrit—calm, steady, and soothing, as if able to ease the soul. Following the chanting, they drove onward.

In their eyes, the surroundings of Nanshan Village held no trace of resentment energy; only faint golden light shimmered from the direction of the chanting.

Driving, Xiao Ke'ai asked curiously, “Master, didn’t the Bureau say monks and Taoists are useless against ghosts? Yet this monk seems to be purifying the resentment, and he’s glowing!”

“We’ll see soon enough. Our history is ancient; it can’t be fully explained by a few centuries of science. Besides, the existence of ghosts defies modern scientific understanding,” Wu Zui replied.

“True~”

Xiao Ke'ai nodded foolishly.

Soon, they reached the source of the chanting—a courtyard, the best-appointed in Nanshan Village, likely the village chief’s home.

There, a raggedly dressed man stood with palms pressed together, murmuring low prayers. Before him lay over a dozen corpses, covered in white cloth, their forms barely human.

In Xiao Ke'ai’s eyes, the monk’s chanting summoned golden light, enveloping the corpses. The resentment energy that once lingered on them slowly dissipated with the chanting.

“Master, this big monk still has hair!” Xiao Ke'ai whispered in Wu Zui’s ear.

“Hush! Don’t disturb him,” Wu Zui admonished her with a tap. In his eyes, the smoke atop the monk's head was almost entirely golden—almost. A thin thread, black as ink, ran through it, but so slight that Wu Zui, whose magnetic abilities now reached three stars, could barely detect it. Was this a high monk who had once killed?

The chanting soon ended, and the village’s resentment energy vanished completely.

“The purpose of shaving one’s head is to rid oneself of worries. I have none, so whether I have hair or not is of no consequence.” The man, finishing his prayers, approached Wu Zui and Xiao Ke'ai, answering the question Xiao Ke'ai had just posed.

“You’re not like other monks. You don’t wear their robes, and you’re not bald. Are you really a monk?” Xiao Ke'ai scrutinized him, curious.

The man simply smiled, saying nothing.

As Xiao Ke'ai had noted, he wore no monk’s attire and was not shaven, yet at first glance she still recognized him as a monk.

Seeing the serene gaze of the monk, Xiao Ke'ai felt her curiosity fade.

“Take care, both of you. All is well here; I must be on my way,” the man said, pressing his palms together, then walked toward the village entrance.

“Master, what’s your name?” Wu Zui called, seeing him already more than ten meters away.

“Wind~”

A gentle voice drifted back.

“Mad? Mad monk, huh! No wonder he seemed a bit odd!” Xiao Ke'ai muttered, watching the figure disappear.

“Come now. He probably meant 'Wind, formless as the wind.' So this master must be called Formless. To purify resentment without magnetic energy, I wonder how many such talents exist in our nation?” Wu Zui explained to Xiao Ke'ai, musing aloud.

“Really, why didn’t he just say Formless? ‘Wind’? That’s nonsense!” Xiao Ke'ai huffed, her anger sparked by the sense her intelligence had been insulted.

“Monks love riddles. It’s nothing new. Anyway, time to work. Once we confirm no new ghosts or anomalies, we can leave. One magnetic protective suit was ruined—let’s see if Old Wang has any good replacements,” Wu Zui joked about the enigmatic Formless master, then examined the corpses. They were the bodies of Nanshan’s elders; the parts turned to sludge suggested the scarred man’s handiwork.

Wu Zui and Xiao Ke'ai then checked the village for any new ghosts. After the Bureau’s cleanup crew arrived, the two drove back to Binhai City.

On the way, Xiao Ke'ai finally realized what the black substance that had enveloped them was. Her face turned pale as she gagged, as if a foul odor lingered before her nose. Luckily, they hadn’t eaten breakfast, or they would have had to wash the car first.

Seeing Xiao Ke'ai so shaken, Wu Zui turned on the radio, hoping the broadcast would distract her from thoughts of the black substance.

As soon as he turned it on, an advertisement blared: “Three major film companies present! Deepen your understanding of ghosts—they’re far less terrifying than you imagine! Tonight at eight, live coverage of ghost encounters, guiding you into a world of wonders!”

“They’re broadcasting ghost hunts? They still don’t fully understand how ghosts even appear, yet they dare air this? These companies will do anything for money!” Wu Zui frowned at the news.

Xiao Ke'ai paid no heed to ghost live streams. She floored the accelerator; with a roar, her car sped toward the Bureau in Binhai City. Both felt a rush of weightlessness as the scenery outside blurred past.

Xiao Ke'ai no longer cared to visit the scenic spot near Old Mountain Village—she just wanted to get home and shower. The thought of the black substance wrapping around her made her skin crawl, and that drifting stench seemed even stronger.

...

“Slow... slow down,” Wu Zui adjusted himself, stammering. Xiao Ke'ai’s driving terrified him—not the speed, but her erratic steering.

The constant swaying made Wu Zui feel they might fly off the highway at any moment...

Arriving at Xiao Ke'ai’s home near the Bureau, she dashed inside to shower, while Wu Zui sat on the sofa and examined photos sent by Xiao An Guo. Among today’s pictures was someone unexpected—Ming Rou Rou!

“A forensic scientist turned ghost investigator? Could she be drawn to dissecting anomalies?” Wu Zui muttered, looking at Ming Rou Rou’s photo. Given her curiosity about unknown creatures, she might well try such things.

“Something seems off...”

“Never mind, she won’t be in danger. If she wants to be a ghost investigator, let her.” Wu Zui checked the smoke above her head—she wouldn’t have accidents awakening magnetic abilities.

He sent the confirmation photo to Xiao An Guo, then Xiao Ke'ai finished showering and changed into casual clothes; her magnetic protective suit was already tossed into the washing machine.

And then...

“Master! Go shower, you stink!” Xiao Ke'ai pushed Wu Zui toward the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

“...” Wu Zui.

No choice—since he was already inside, he might as well wash up.