WBICDPH Chapter 74

Chapter 74: Strange and Bizarre

“What?!”

Just as Lin Jin had expected, the moment Hua Nanzhi finished hearing the story, she exploded in fury.

“Unbelievable! Zhou Wencai is even more shameless than I imagined! On what grounds does he refuse to marry her? He hijacks the wedding, drags her name through the mud, and still won’t marry her—then tells her to wait? Wait for what? So he can disappear forever?! What kind of scumbag is that?! And his mother, too! The whole village is rotten to the core! How dare they dump every bit of blame onto one young girl? What does a bad harvest have to do with her? What kind of people are they?!”

She was practically shaking with rage.

“This entire village deserves what’s coming to them! Forget the mission, Lin Jin—just figure out a way to get the three of us out of here. I don’t care if I get demoted to the outer sect. I’m not saving these trash heaps! I’ll cut them all down—every last one of them!”

“Hey, hey—calm down! It’s not that extreme. Evil will answer to Heaven eventually,” Lin Jin said, patting her arm to soothe her while keeping his eyes fixed on Zhou’s mother down in the fields.

After spotting Zhou’s mother in the flower fields, Lin Jin had deliberately stayed put instead of heading down immediately. As he told the story, he watched closely to see what she intended to do.

At dawn, she had carried a basket into the fields and harvested a full load of flowers before returning home. That alone might not have meant much.

But it didn’t end there.

After some time bustling around in the kitchen, she emerged again—this time carrying something like a food container. She left in a hurry.

And she was being careful. Lin Jin noticed the way she kept glancing around as she walked, furtive and cautious. It was obvious she didn’t want anyone to see where she was going.

Interesting.

Cooking. Delivering food. Doing it secretly before anyone else woke up.

Who was she feeding? Who in this village required such careful concealment? And who, at this point, was not meant to be seen?

Lin Jin instinctively glanced at Zhu Eryao beside him.

She still hovered quietly with her hands resting on his shoulder. When she noticed him looking at her, she tilted her head in confusion.

“It’s nothing,” Lin Jin said with a small smile. “I’m taking you to seek justice.”

—

Zhou’s mother eventually returned to the plot of land that once belonged to her family. She walked through the sea of white blossoms and stopped at a certain spot. Then she bent down—and vanished from sight.

“Where did she go?” Hua Nanzhi stared from afar, astonished. “Since when can mortals burrow underground?”

“Mortals can’t burrow,” Lin Jin replied, lowering the farsight talisman. “But they can dig cellars. For storing grain… or other things.”

“So why bring a food container down there?” Hua Nanzhi frowned.

“Let’s go find out.”

He tapped the hilt of the blade on her back. “Move.”

—

The three of them—plus one dog and one ghost—returned the way they had come, descending the mountain path. Zhu Eryao craned her neck this way and that, curious about everything around her.

When a soul turns into a ghost, most of its memories and emotions are lost. Zhu Eryao was no exception. She barely remembered what had happened to her. Because she had been forcibly refined into a ghost by outside power, even her original obsession was blurred.

She recognized only the red coral bead in her hand. When Lin Jin had told her story earlier, she’d listened blankly, seemingly unaware she herself was the subject.

As for emotions, she had little left. Even hatred and resentment had mostly faded. What remained was fear.

She startled easily—like a frightened animal. A sudden noise would make her tremble, frighten her more, and tears would spill down her cheeks. She didn’t even dare raise her voice.

Nothing like the bloodthirsty red wraith of legend.

Her curious swaying, however, irritated Xiao Lanqi.

Originally, he had been perched on Lin Jin’s shoulder. But once Zhu Eryao joined them, the young lord refused to share equal height with a “red-clad little ghost.” It was beneath his dignity. So he climbed to the top of Lin Jin’s head instead, asserting his unquestionable dominance.

Now, as Zhu Eryao kept swaying back and forth, he grew annoyed.

Pathetic, he thought. They say red wraiths brim with resentment and can slaughter a city. What kind of red wraith cries at the slightest scare? Embarrassing.

He cast her a sharp glance.

Unfortunately, his glare carried a bit too much hostility.

Zhu Eryao happened to look up at that exact moment. She froze—and then shot backward in fright, smacking straight into a tree with a loud thud.

The tree shook violently, leaves fluttering down.

Hua Nanzhi looked up in confusion. “There’s no wind. Why’s that tree shaking?”

“…” Lin Jin sighed. “Zhu Eryao ran into it.”

He turned back and saw her shrinking against the trunk, staring fearfully at the top of his head.

He raised a brow in understanding.

He plucked Xiao Lanqi down. “Did he scare you?”

Zhu Eryao nodded.

“???”

I did no such thing! Xiao Lanqi bristled.

“Why are you scaring her? You know she’s timid,” Lin Jin scolded.

Her being timid has nothing to do with me! Xiao Lanqi bared his teeth in protest.

“Don’t bare your teeth. Bad dog.”

Lin Jin grabbed his snout firmly, ignoring his struggles, then stuffed him inside his robe to prevent further incidents.

“Dog scares ghost. Ghost good. Dog bad.”

Only after the “fierce dog” disappeared did Zhu Eryao cautiously float back and rest her hands on Lin Jin’s shoulders again—one on each side this time.

All hers.

Plenty of space.

—

They descended the mountain and headed straight to the Zhou family’s flower fields.

Lin Jin had seen this place countless times through Zhu Eryao’s memories, so even among acres of similar blossoms, he easily found the correct plot.

The cloying fragrance of Seven-Emotions Flowers saturated the air. It was especially thick here. Lin Jin covered his nose with his sleeve.

Soon, they located a wooden board hidden beneath weeds.

Lin Jin tried lifting it—but it was far heavier than expected. After considerable effort, it barely shifted an inch.

Hua Nanzhi looked at him with disdain. “Move aside. I told you—when taking missions, partner with someone strong. Otherwise, you’ll find clues and still be stuck.”

“…You’re not wrong,” Lin Jin admitted and stepped aside.

She lifted the board effortlessly.

Beneath it yawned a dark hole.

The moment the board opened, a horrific stench burst out—like something had rotted for days, mixed with the heavy perfume of Seven-Emotions Flowers, trapped in stagnant heat.

Hua Nanzhi gagged. “Did something die down there?!”

“No,” Lin Jin said, propping the board open with sticks. “When a puppet master implants puppet threads into mortals, they cease to be truly ‘alive.’ They won’t die again.”

“Then what smells that foul?!”

“Let’s find out.”

She pulled him back. “You walk behind me. You’re too fragile.”

“I have talismans. You can barely access your spirit sea.”

“I still have my blade.”

Without waiting, she descended first.

—

The cellar opened into a surprisingly large underground space with corridors and oil lamps hanging along the walls.

The stench intensified.

From the darkness came the dragging scrape of heavy chains—and something else.

Ragged breathing.

A vicious chewing sound.

They rounded a final bend.

Hua Nanzhi stopped abruptly.

“What is it?” Lin Jin asked.

She stepped aside silently.

He looked.

And nearly dropped the oil lamp.

At the center of the cellar was a gaunt man covered in filth and dried blood. He wore only tattered scraps of cloth. His body was emaciated—bones sharply visible—but his head was grotesquely swollen, two or three times normal size. Sparse hair clung to his scalp. His face was so bloated that his features were barely discernible.

A wooden cangue locked his neck and hands. A chain wrapped his throat, bolted into the wall.

He strained against it, reaching toward someone nearby.

Zhou’s mother.

She knelt on the ground with a bowl in one hand and a metal spoon in the other, feeding him cooked Seven-Emotions Flowers.

The same woman who had raged like a demon the day before now moved with utmost tenderness. Her eyes brimmed with maternal warmth as she gazed at the grotesque figure as if he were her most precious treasure.

“Our Wencai is so good today. That’s right—big bites. Eat well and grow strong. Be Mommy’s good son.”

The creature wasn’t listening. His cloudy eyes locked onto her. He bit down so hard on the spoon it rang sharply against his teeth.

She smiled and patted his head in praise.

In the dim light, Lin Jin noticed something else in the bowl.

And when Zhou’s sleeve shifted, he saw blood-stained bandages around her wrist.

She was feeding it her blood… along with the flowers?

A colder realization dawned.

She had said, “Our Wencai.”

So this wasn’t some random monster.

It was the gentle yet cowardly scholar from Zhu Eryao’s memories—

Zhou Wencai.