Chapter 8

Tongling Mountain.

The cliffs and valleys are deep and steep, with a perilous and ominous atmosphere.

Strange rocks and bizarre trees abound, mixed with wildflowers and bamboo, creating a dense and rugged landscape.

Every night, when it is quiet and the forest is cold, wild apes often howl mournfully, their cries echoing far and wide.

"Truly terrifying,"

Even Zhao Laohu, who is bold and fearless, felt a chill as he walked along the mountain path, the mottled shadows making him uneasy.

"Master, please walk slowly."

Huani's face lost its color; even in broad daylight, how could the mountain be so eerie?

"Hey,"

"Hey,"

"Hey,"

Behind them, six strong men chanted as they carried a heavy chest.

After another half an hour, the group reached the mountaintop.

Looking up, they saw the temple, its interior dark and indistinct, with only an old mulberry tree at the entrance, its branches spreading like a canopy, rustling in the wind.

Thinking of the temple's terrifying reputation, Zhao Laohu dared not look for long. He led the group to kneel before the temple and respectfully said, "I, Zhao Laohu, have been unjustly oppressed. I beg the lady to uphold justice."

After speaking, he gave Huani a meaningful look.

Huani understood and gracefully stepped forward, opening three large chests.

Rustle,

The chests opened to reveal livestock, gold and silver, and old ginseng.

"Chen Yan, may you die a miserable death."

Zhao Laohu lowered his head, his heart aching.

To deal with Chen Yan, he had used nearly half of his savings, especially the old ginseng, which resembled a large doll and was a true medicinal treasure, capable of extending life in critical moments, something rare and hard to come by.

"Hmm, not bad."

As if sensing the fragrance of the old ginseng, the temple door was pushed open, and an old woman emerged. Her hair was silver, but her hands were as soft and tender as those of a young girl.

The old woman was dressed in red, with a green sash, and she leaned on a cane entwined with two snakes. Two dark clouds swirled around her, hissing like living things.

"Zhao Laohu,"

The old woman, a shaman, paused, tapping her cane, and asked, "What is it you want?"

"Madam, it's like this."

Huani, quick with words, took over and recounted the entire story.

"What, Chen Yan?"

Hearing this name, the shaman let out a sharp, eerie cry, her face contorting. "Is he still alive?"

"He's living a life of ease,"

Huani's mind raced, recalling an incident from a few months ago. She embellished the story, saying, "Chen Yan is now living a life of ease, reading books, teasing his maids, gathering friends, and composing poetry. He's living a very happy life."

"Good, good, very good."

The shaman's eyes glowed with a sinister light, and she laughed with rage. "I never thought that the arrogant Chen Yan could live so long."

Pausing, she waved her sleeve, and her cane, entwined with snakes, struck the ground, emitting a sound of impending doom. "Go down the mountain and wait for news. In three days, Chen Yan will surely die."

"Thank you, Madam."

Zhao Laohu and the others were overjoyed, bowed deeply, and then left.

"Chen Yan,"

The shaman watched them leave, slammed the temple door, and her eyes glowed with a greenish light. "Daring to offend me, I will make you wish you were dead."

Rustle,

In the next moment, a gust of cold wind rose from the shaman's head, and a black light, invisible to the naked eye, slowly ascended, then bent like a human figure and rushed down the mountain.

Midnight.

Light smoke swirled, and thin clouds played with the moonlight.

The wind blew, causing the lamp flowers to flicker, and the moonlight brought a faint fragrance.

Chen Yan sat on a couch, and in front of him, ten large dolls, about half a foot tall, sat or stood, crying or calling, their voices continuous.

"What are these things?"

Chen Yan picked one up, pinched its chubby little hands and legs, and the little thing looked at him with big, black eyes, as if examining him.

"Hmm, they seem a bit ethereal."

Holding the doll, it was as light as air, but Chen Yan noticed that compared to yesterday, the doll was losing its essence and vitality.

Interestingly, when he first grabbed the doll, it was very timid, shrinking into a ball and whimpering at the slightest touch. Now, as it lost its essence, it became bolder, or rather, less spirited, and more sluggish.

"Truly strange,"

Chen Yan frowned, unable to determine the origin of the dolls.

Even though he had been a Yin spirit in his previous life, he was born in an era of declining mysticism. At that time, technology was rapidly developing, and many natural treasures had become extinct, leaving him with significant gaps in his knowledge.

Just then, the door suddenly opened, and a gust of cold wind blew out the lotus lamp on the table.

"Hmm?"

Chen Yan remained calm, using the light from the small window to look toward the door.

Rustle,

First, a cold wind like a mournful cry, the window rattled, followed by the sound of heavy boots approaching.

In the next moment,

A large ghost bowed and entered, standing before the couch, almost as tall as the beam.

Upon closer inspection, the ghost had a face like an old melon, its eyes flashing as it looked around the room. Its mouth was as wide as a basin, with sparse, three-inch-long teeth, and its tongue moved, making a hoarse sound that echoed through the walls.

"Quite a ghost."

Chen Yan calmly put down the doll, a smile playing on his lips. "You are indeed large, but I wonder what skills you have, and whether you can eat people."

"Ha ha,"

The ghost let out a mournful cry, unbearable to hear. Seeing that Chen Yan was not frightened, it leaped forward, suddenly shrinking but still towering over him, pressing down.

"Hmm?"

Chen Yan tried to move, but found his body paralyzed.

"Ha ha,"

The ghost's voice grew more sinister, pressing down on Chen Yan like a boulder, immovable.

As the ghost pressed down, Chen Yan's mind remained clear, but he could not lift his hands or feet, as if bound.

"Ha ha,"

The ghost continued to cry, and Chen Yan saw grotesque ghost faces appearing before him, filled with resentment, curses, jealousy, and despair, their red tongues flickering.

The sensation was incredibly real.

"This is the old witch's spell,"

Chen Yan's anger surged, his eyes turning red.

In his memory, a few months ago, after scolding the old witch, she had used this spell to terrify him, causing him to fall ill and lose his fortune.

This time, the old witch was using the same spell, entering his dreams at night to completely break him.

"Old witch,"

But she did not realize that this time, she was facing Chen Yan, who had awakened his past memories.