Chapter 18

After soaking in the cesspool for half the night and then rinsing with cold water for half an hour, the smell was mostly gone, but Feng San was thoroughly chilled to the bone—looking just like a piece of dead pork that had been soaked in water for a long time.

After the rinse, Old Liu threw over a greasy blanket, his eyes and gestures exactly like those he used when feeding the donkey next to it. At that moment, Feng San felt a lump in his throat, and tears mixed with well water streamed down his face... At this point, he regretted it so much that his intestines turned green. If he had known this would happen, he wouldn't have agreed even for two hundred silver dollars, let alone two hundred young women!

However, just a quarter of an incense stick later, he suddenly felt as if he were standing on a high platform with a vast horizon, and amidst the light breeze and clear sky, everything seemed worth it... To understand this, we need to start from the moment his tears flowed.

Feng San wrapped himself in the blanket, but it only covered half his body. So, he reluctantly covered the important parts of his lower half. Before he could speak, Old Liu, holding a bundle of hay, said:

"It's not that I'm stingy and won't give you clothes; it's just that we can't find any that fit your build. But you can rest assured, when you start grinding the mill, Luo the widow will definitely have your clothes ready."

Regardless of how skilled Luo the widow was at making clothes, the word 'grinding the mill' clearly showed that the old temple keeper hadn't forgotten Feng San's promise to 'work like an ox or a horse' in the cesspool.

Before Feng San could think of a response, the courtyard gate creaked open, and a group of people filed in. As soon as they entered, a man with a tobacco pipe shouted: "Hey, what a smell! Old Liu, why did you bring this guy here to wash? Aren't you afraid the smell will offend the Buddha and the deities... Come, have some porridge first."

The man was none other than Old August from the paper goods store, followed by a group of ghost market shopkeepers who were covering their noses and snickering. Embarrassed, Feng San buried his face in the fatty meat as soon as he took the bowl. Old Liu, unconcerned, said:

"The cesspool is right next to the animal shed, close to the well and the back wall. The water flushes everything away, including the donkey droppings. Where else would you wash him? Besides, if someone smells something, I can just say the animals are in heat..."

The crowd all agreed with a chorus of "Pfft, pfft, pfft."

"That makes sense!" One-eyed Old Gou stepped forward and handed Feng San a bag of fried fruit, then went back to sit with the others by the firewood pile: "Actually, we could have just scared him away. Why go through all this trouble to bring him back? After all, he's a hired killer. If we slip up..."

As he spoke, Old Liu raised his hand: "Don't ask me, ask him... Oh, you're just in time. Explain it to everyone."

Looking up, they saw the medium Cui Deyuan leading Zunshang Bao, who had just arrived. Cui Deyuan chuckled and, after Zunshang Bao led him to sit by the firewood pile, slowly took off his sunglasses and said:

"Don't be impatient. I'll explain the reason, but first, I have a few questions for him. Once the questions are answered, you'll understand—okay?"

No one objected, just urged him to hurry. He cleared his throat and asked:

"Feng San, your body isn't naturally fat, is it? Has this happened in the past few years?"

His words were soft and slow, but to Feng San, they were like a bolt of lightning. He shuddered and looked up, urgently saying: "How do you know... Uh?" Just as he was about to ask more, he saw the white eyes of the man without sunglasses and was stunned.

Cui Deyuan, of course, was blind, but how could a blind man know about his weight?

Cui Deyuan didn't notice and smiled faintly: "Don't ask how I know. Just answer my questions. If we're happy, we might lift your curse—tell us what happened back then."

His voice left no room for argument, and Feng San obediently told his story...

Five years ago, a great drought hit Huguang, lasting over three years without a drop of rain. Wells and rivers dried up, and plants withered. Countless people starved to death, and those who could still move fled their homes.

The local warlord not only failed to help the people but also set up checkpoints to collect tolls, causing widespread resentment. At this time, someone offered a large sum to hire Feng San to assassinate the warlord's most evil and corrupt deputy, Zhao Heimao. The reason was clear:

Zhao Heimao usually stayed hidden, making it hard to find an opportunity to kill him. But during the drought, he became active, extorting the people, which was a rare opportunity.

Feng San took the job and, after many hardships, finally killed Zhao Heimao. In the chaos of his escape, he got lost.

The surrounding area was desolate, with no people or animals. Feng San had no choice but to head east, and after a few days, he ran out of food. For the next few days, he suffered, unable to find even a rat to eat, and he looked like a beggar.

When he was almost fainting from hunger, he saw a wisp of smoke rising from an abandoned village—cooking smoke!

He became excited and sneaked up to a house. Peering through a crack in the window, he saw a large pot hanging from the rafters, boiling with meat and emitting a rich aroma. There was no one around.

Feng San didn't rush in but waited. Soon, two strange figures emerged from the inner room.

They didn't walk but crawled, and from the moment they appeared, Feng San felt goosebumps all over his body.

He noticed that their steps were unusual. The second person's foot always landed where the first person's foot had just left, as if they were one person.

The first person lifted his foot, and the second person lifted his foot; the first person put his foot down, and the second person put his foot down... always at the exact spot where the first person's foot had just left.

If he had seen this under normal circumstances, Feng San might have found it amusing, but the appearance and atmosphere of these two figures made him feel extremely frightened.

The first person was emaciated with a bloated belly, his mouth protruding, eyes bulging, and saliva dripping from his tongue. He was covered only by a piece of rag, his body white as snow with blue veins, looking like an ancient blue-and-white porcelain pattern.

The second person looked similar but was blurry, as if seen through a fog.

The first person, who had been moving slowly, became agile when he smelled the meat, quickly crawling to the pot and grabbing a piece of scalding meat, eating it voraciously. He seemed unaware of the second person, and the broth and juices dripped from his mouth, as if he didn't feel the heat.

The more he ate, the more desperate and hungry he became, his belly swelling but looking as if he hadn't eaten anything. After finishing the meat, he didn't even leave a drop of broth.

The second person followed without touching anything but had a look of extreme satisfaction on his face!

After eating, the first person dragged a corpse from the house, cut off the flesh, and threw the bones into the pot, adding mud and lighting the fire.

No wonder they had meat in such a famine—it was human flesh!

Feng San knew that some bandits ate human flesh, but this was terrifying. Realizing something was wrong, he turned to leave... but at that moment, the first person suddenly raised his head and sniffed the air!

Human!

Feng San had only walked a few meters when he heard a creak behind him, followed by a fierce wind. He immediately rolled to avoid the attack and threw his dagger at the source of the wind!

Looking up, he saw the dagger embedded in the first person's forehead, with a foul-smelling liquid oozing from the wound, but the person was still moving—just a moment's pause before pouncing again!

There was no way to avoid it!

Feng San, being a killer, found a way despite his fatigue. He grabbed a stick and thrust it at the person, who was impaled like a quail on the stick!

The person's mouth gurgled with white foam, and his hands and feet scratched the ground, struggling before finally stopping.

The foam splattered all over Feng San's face.

With that, there was nothing left to say. Feng San rested for a moment, pushed the corpse aside, and went to find the second person, but he couldn't find him anywhere, as if he had vanished.

There were no signs of a second person in the house, in the clothes, or in the utensils—Feng San even began to doubt whether he had hallucinated from hunger or if there had never been a second person.

Why?

Feng San found a half-bag of sprouted potatoes in the cellar, ate his fill, and then had the strength to continue his journey, eventually leaving Huguang and returning to Sichuan.

Since then, he started binge eating, and his body swelled like a balloon...

***

"Sealing the five senses and six perceptions, distinguishing yin and yang, and breaking the cycle," Cui Deyuan sighed. "If you hadn't been so hungry, you wouldn't have seen the Hungry Ghost. If the Hungry Ghost hadn't possessed you, you wouldn't have seen all this in the ghost market. I've solved the mystery. Do you understand the rest?"

Everyone nodded in understanding.

The Hungry Ghost is one of the nine great evil spirits, causing countless deaths when it erupts. It is a malevolent spirit that must be dealt with by those who practice Daoism. If not for the abundant resources in Sichuan and Feng San's accumulated wealth, it would have broken free long ago... But now that it's been seen, can it be allowed to escape?

Old August chuckled: "I'll take care of it. I'll also teach Bao—Bao, watch me fry a ghost!"

Bao laughed and pointed at Feng San's armpit: "Master, are you talking about him?"

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