Chapter 061: The Haunted Old House

The little ghost whispered that the knife in Luo Feng’s chest was plunged in by an old Taoist priest. Her brief account made me instantly think of the old master. I stood frozen for a couple of seconds. The old master was dead—everyone knew that. I hurried over to Luo Feng; blood was pouring violently from his chest, while the little ghost, though uninjured herself, was covered in his blood. Wang Yazhuo was panicked, asking me what to do, her words tumbling out uncontrollably.

“Shut up!” I barked coldly, forcing myself into calm. Wang Yazhuo was startled and fell silent. I tore off my shirt and staunched Luo Feng’s bleeding as quickly as I could, then carried him outside; the little ghost and Wang Yazhuo followed. Only Xiaomei remained outside, standing by the shadowy old house.

At that moment, I had no mind to worry about Xiaomei. If there was anyone I truly cared for and felt sincere gratitude toward, it was Luo Feng. I was anxious. After much effort, we managed to reach the car, but just as I was about to drive, several vehicles blocked our way.

My gaze was sharp as a blade. I grabbed a machete from the car—if anyone tried to stop me from getting Luo Feng to the hospital, I would not hesitate to deal with them. But soon I realized the ones arriving were Luo Feng’s own men. They said Luo Feng had called them over. I remembered that Luo Feng had felt uneasy before coming and had summoned his men as a precaution.

I hadn’t expected Luo Feng’s ominous premonition to come true.

As I got back in the car, preparing to head for the hospital, Luo Feng, who had just been unconscious, suddenly called out to me. I turned at once. With great effort, Luo Feng told me that the one who attacked him was the old Taoist priest, and urged me not to worry about him but to go after them. I hesitated, but Luo Feng pointed to his chest and said he’d weathered worse storms, the bleeding was stopped, and he could endure.

Luo Feng’s wound was on his right chest; if it had been on the left, at his heart, he might already be dead. There was no time to delay. I was reluctant, but his words convinced me: “Now is the best chance to catch Xuan Yi and the old Taoist. If something happens to me, how will you avenge me?”

Luo Feng’s words confirmed what the little ghost had said—it was indeed the old master.

I got out of the car, and Luo Feng was rushed to the hospital by his men. He left two of them with me. Wang Yazhuo, still shaken, had already called her family; soon, many would gather here. We drove back to the original site, passing through the woods until we reached the house again.

Xiaomei was no longer there. We searched the area thoroughly but found no trace of Xuan Yi or the old master. Sweat broke out across my forehead. I crouched and asked the little ghost to recount what had happened in detail. She was still stained with blood, a chilling sight.

The little ghost explained: after I ran into the old house, she noticed movement nearby and soon spotted Xuan Yi. She went after him, with Luo Feng calling her from behind and following. She pursued them to the place where Luo Feng was wounded, where many ancient child dolls were piled up. She sensed someone hiding among them.

Luo Feng, heeding the little ghost’s warning, started searching the pile. But as he crouched down, a figure sprang from the heap and stabbed him in the chest. The little ghost didn’t know what the old master looked like, but from her description, the man matched his appearance.

We returned once more to the site of Luo Feng’s injury. Our flashlights swept over the mound of child dolls, each doll’s eyes fixated on us. Because of the shift in perspective, it seemed wherever I moved, their eyes followed.

Each doll looked identical—plump faces adorned with strange smiles, made even more sinister by the stark beams of our flashlights. A single doll might not frighten most, but here, hundreds crowded together, far more than had spilled from the cabinet before. There were so many, we couldn’t count them, but estimated there were hundreds, enough to conceal an adult within the pile.

I frowned; this house was far too eerie. Never mind why so many dolls were gathered here—the old master alone was enough to make my skin crawl.

The old master had died in the port district; I saw it with my own eyes. His corpse had been taken to the police station for autopsy and declared a natural death. Yet both the little ghost and Luo Feng claimed he’d stabbed Luo Feng.

As we stared at the doll pile, Wang Yazhuo suddenly shrieked. She had thought this would be fun, but her face was now deathly pale. I asked what was wrong, and she said she’d seen a shadow in the house. The little ghost quickly agreed.

I didn’t trust Wang Yazhuo’s senses, but I absolutely trusted the little ghost. Everyone now realized the house was unsafe. I couldn’t let the little ghost out of my sight, so I picked her up. After instructing Luo Feng’s two men to protect Wang Yazhuo, I gripped the machete and slowly entered the house.

Wang Yazhuo called out behind me, telling me to be careful. I snapped at her to be quiet. The house fell silent as death. As I crossed the threshold, a cold wind swept in, chilling me to the bone. There was no one behind the door.

The little ghost seemed about to speak, but I shook my head and she fell silent. She pointed to a spot, indicating I should check it. It was where Xiaomei had previously stood. I walked over cautiously, my palm sweating as I gripped the blade.

But when I reached the spot, I found it empty.

Just as I turned to go, I stopped abruptly. I spun around and stared at the cabinet whose lock I had smashed open. The bloodstained dolls that had been scattered across the floor were gone! Before I could react, the little ghost patted my shoulder and pointed in another direction.

There was a small door. Beyond it lay the inner hall. I took a deep breath and walked forward. Soon, I heard a woman’s laughter—piercing and drawn out—then the laughter turned into sobbing. The sound echoed through the vast house, as if someone were leaning close to my ear, shouting, so sharp it threatened to pierce my eardrums.

I walked slowly, and the sound gradually faded.

I was certain it wasn’t Xiaomei’s voice. Which meant, besides the missing Xiaomei and Wang Yazhuo outside, there was a third woman in the haunted house. Judging from the shrill tone, it sounded more like a child. I set the little ghost down and told her to follow behind me.

As I neared the door, something suddenly flew out. I reflexively reached out and caught it—a child doll. Without examining it closely, I pressed on. As I crossed the threshold, another cold wind struck me.

The woman’s cries and laughter had vanished; the inner hall was empty save for an open window. I rushed to the window and looked outside—nothing. It dawned on me that whoever it was had escaped through the window. The night was pitch black. For the little ghost’s safety, I didn’t pursue.

I took her back to join Wang Yazhuo and the others.

Wang Yazhuo asked if I’d found anyone. I shook my head.

The house was enormous, and we were too few. For safety, we couldn’t split up. I realized that whether it was Xuan Yi, the old master, or the person who had just played tricks in the inner hall, we were unlikely to find any of them.

Just then, Wang Yazhuo, flashlight in hand, stared in terror at the child doll I held. By the beam of her light, I saw clearly—the doll’s eye sockets were fitted with real human eyeballs…