Chapter 90: The Exorcism (2)

Xue Liangliang shook off his dizziness and leaned in closer. He could now clearly see two expressions alternating across Jingjing’s face—as if the two were about to split apart.

Jingjing spoke. “If I hadn’t possessed her, she would’ve died in the car crash. If you drive me out, she’ll die!”

Li Zhuiyuan replied, “There’s no death aura or livor mortis on her. She’s a genuine crash survivor. You just crept in when her three inner flames were dim. Trying to fool me with that line? What do you take me for—a child?”

Suddenly, Jingjing’s eyes turned a strange shade of green. Her voice changed, too—no longer a young girl’s, but hoarse and sinister.

“Leave a thread between yin and yang, so we may meet again. I’ll take a step back—you escort this body to my lair, and I’ll leave her alone.”

“Oh? And where exactly is your lair?”

“It’s…” She faltered mid-sentence. “You mustn’t follow. She has to walk there alone!”

Li Zhuiyuan was done talking. He pinched the philtrum under her nose, continuing to force the entity from her body.

“Are you really going to push this, Daoist?”

“I’m compulsive.”

He smoothed a hand down to close her eyelids, then quickly tapped her forehead three times.

The girl’s body jolted. Her mouth opened wide, and a black puff of smoke burst out. The curtain flared. The window flew open.

Wind? No. A trick.

Jingjing’s body slackened, drenched in cold sweat that quickly soaked the sheets.

Dark, foul-smelling pus oozed from her eyes, ears, nose, and mouth.

Xue Liangliang exclaimed, “It’s a Dead Sinker!”

Li Zhuiyuan turned to him, a little surprised. “Your household recognized this stench too?”

It made sense for Runsheng or Yin Meng to notice. But Xue Liangliang? He was a hydraulic engineer, not a Corpse Retriever.

“No way!”

“Oh?”

“I didn’t smell it—I saw all that water leaking out. Isn’t that a hallmark of a Dead Sinker?”

“This? That’s barely any fluid.”

“Fine, then I misunderstood. I’m dumb.”

He paused, then added, “Also… there’s no stench on her body.”

“All right, Liang-ge. Help turn her over—don’t let her choke—and undo the ropes.”

Xue Liangliang gently rolled her over and began untying her. “She’s good now, right? Should we let Teacher and Auntie in? They’ve gotta be worried sick out there.”

“No rush. Wait a bit.”

“Wait for what?”

“It’s still here.”

With that, Li Zhuiyuan opened his eyes and walked the shade.

The earlier gusts, the moving curtains and windows—just distractions. The thing hadn’t left the room at all.

Not that it would’ve gotten far. Li Zhuiyuan had deliberately played dumb while checking Jingjing’s condition, but he’d always planned to deal with it.

From the shade-walking perspective, he saw it: a black serpent coiled on the ceiling.

Ah. A corpse fiend Dead Sinker.

From what he remembered, these types were usually more intelligent and more communicative—like that cat-faced granny he’d encountered back home.

The black snake flicked its tongue lazily—until it locked eyes with the boy. Then it froze in terror.

It had mistaken him for a countryside amateur—just some folk occultist who knew a few crude tricks: black dog’s blood, makeshift altars, finger-painted sigils.

Like Blind Liu had done, using incense ash to “massage” him and drive out spirits.

It had planned to wait until everyone left and sneak back into the girl’s body.

Now it realized—it had gravely misjudged.

This boy was the real deal.

The black snake slithered frantically. It was actually trying to flee.

Li Zhuiyuan opened his palm.

The Twelve Decrees of Fengdu—Four Ghosts Bearing the Coffin.

The snake was wrenched down, slammed against the floor, unable to move—just as if a ghostly sedan chair had crushed it beneath its poles.

Li Zhuiyuan bent down and gripped it in his hand.

Within the shade, he could feel its body trembling violently.

He reached into his pocket and took out a small compass. He had two types.

The purple compass was too large for daily use and usually stayed in the dorm, handled by Runsheng or Tan Wenbin when needed.

This smaller one was self-carved and easy to carry, but it always had a fixed error. Each use required mental recalibration.

The error had existed since he first made it. Even as his skill improved, the discrepancy never changed.

He walked to the altar, picked up the bowl of yellow wine laced with ash, and poured it over his palm.

The black snake instantly went limp, as if drunk, and lost consciousness.

Li Zhuiyuan slapped it into the compass.

Then he returned to the girl’s side, dipped a finger in leftover black dog’s blood on her body, and drew a sealing glyph on the compass.

According to Wei Zhengdao’s Chronicle of the Orthodox Demon-Suppressing Arts, sealing a creature like this usually required a pre-drawn talisman to be applied.

But just like his compasses, Li Zhuiyuan had made no progress in talisman craft.

At first, he suspected the lack of formal lineage meant his symbols weren’t consecrated.

Later, he vaguely sensed the issue was more intrinsic—like his trouble calling down spirits. A kind of built-in limitation.

In metaphysical terms, it was like “a full moon must wane, a brimming cup must spill.” A symbolic flaw was needed—else the price would be early death.

Still, not having talisman paper was inconvenient. He decided he could ask Ah Li to try drawing some for him. Every charm she carved worked remarkably well.

Ancestor tablets and their materials only served as amplifiers. If those alone worked, everyone would start carrying tablets into battle.

Li Zhuiyuan opened the side room door and walked out.

To Luo Gong and Zhao Hui, waiting anxiously in the living room, he said, “She’s all right now. Her body’s a bit depleted—better send her to the hospital for observation. She might get minor illnesses like headaches and colds over the next few days.”

Zhao Hui rushed inside to check on the girl.

Luo Gong sighed in relief and smiled. “Thank you, Xiaoyuan.”

“Teacher, it’s what I should do.”

“But…” Luo Gong hesitated. “Your abilities in this field… it’s best to keep them low-profile. Handle things discreetly—too much exposure could affect your future.”

“Teacher, you’re not an outsider.”

“Heh.” Luo Gong patted his shoulder. “Smart kids always make people jealous. Designing your thesis while studying this stuff on the side…”

Then he went in to check on the child.

Li Zhuiyuan stepped onto the balcony. He took out his compass and made a rough directional reading.

Then he walked to the living room phone and dialed the bargain shop.

Yin Meng picked up. He gave her the time and location and asked her to notify Runsheng and Tan Wenbin to bring full gear for the rendezvous.

That incident at the General's Temple had been flashy but ultimately a light wrap-up—and Runsheng hadn’t even been there.

This corpse fiend? He’d already probed its strength. A solid target. Just right.

Xue Liangliang emerged then, leaning against the wall, sounding regretful. “I wish I could go with you guys.”

“Who brings mothballs to a fight?”

“You saying I’d just get in the way?”

“Yeah. Unless you drag her out of the river yourself.”

“She’d never come out,” Liangliang said with conviction.

“You really trust her that much?”

“I know she’s scared. She told me—the Dragon King’s clan has its eye on her.”

“Then next time you visit home on my behalf, tell her this—the Dragon King’s clan is her in-law family, too.”

Xue Liangliang lifted his head, beaming. “Oh? I’m that important?”

“Mm. Being a live-in son-in-law’s tough. No one backing your in-laws means you’re easy to bully.”

“Hahaha! You brat!” Xue Liangliang laughed and slung an arm around his shoulder. “Thanks, Xiaoyuan.”

“No need. You’re the big boss.”

“What boss?”

Haihe University’s Bargain Shop Bandit Camp—the business license listed Xue Liangliang as its head honcho.

Luo Gong and Xue Liangliang were going to escort Zhao Hui and Jingjing to the hospital, then head overnight to Huangshan.

Li Zhuiyuan didn’t ride with them. He hailed a taxi.

He sat in the backseat, gazing at the city lights.

When they arrived, he paid the fare.

As he turned around, he saw three figures beneath a streetlamp—Runsheng, Yin Meng, and Tan Wenbin, already geared up, their shadows stretching long behind them.

Li Zhuiyuan turned, raised a hand, and called out:

“Let’s go. Team building.”

Next Chapter >>>