Chapter Eight: Battle with the Demon Fiend (Part Two)

The two of them, one after the other, crept along the streets like thieves, glancing around nervously and carefully avoiding passersby as they carried the bound spirit they’d subdued with the “Binding Spirit Art” back to Hu Hai’s apartment.

Liu Qing, sitting in the living room, leapt to her feet the moment they entered. “You’re finally back! Something strange just happened, and I was wondering if it might be connected to what you’re investigating…” Suddenly, her eyes landed on the rigid, lifeless spirit, and she froze in shock, quickly retreating several steps.

“Big Sister Liu, is this the person you saw earlier?” Shi Jun, wiping the sweat from his brow, asked breathlessly. He’d always thought ghosts were insubstantial and weightless, but this spirit was so heavy that it had taken all the strength he and Motuo could muster just to drag him back.

“That’s him! It’s definitely him!” Liu Qing’s fear was obvious—she barely dared glance at the spirit from a distance, even though she knew he was now a captive. “How did you even manage to bring him back?”

“Don’t ask! I even got a mouthful of Shi Jun’s spit because of it!” Motuo, still fuming after hearing what had happened from Shi Jun on the way back, dumped the spirit’s body heavily onto the living room floor, then, unable to contain his anger, gave him a hard kick for good measure.

“Don’t do that!” Shi Jun stopped Motuo. “We had no other choice just now—there’s no point getting so angry. Why don’t you go take a shower and we’ll discuss what to do next once you’re back.”

He dropped onto the sofa, gulped down a large glass of water, and finally felt his strength return. He let out a long sigh—what a day it had been! He hadn’t stopped since noon, running back and forth between the children’s hospital and the psychiatric hospital three times. Now that it was getting late, exhaustion washed over him, and he couldn’t help but yawn.

“Um… Shi Jun, there’s something I want to tell you.” Just as Shi Jun was about to nod off, Liu Qing approached him.

“Huh?” Shi Jun forced himself awake and straightened up. “Oh right, you mentioned something strange just happened?”

Liu Qing glanced at the spirit lying on the floor, hesitated, then lowered her voice. “I’m not sure if it’s related, but while I was watching TV just now, I noticed something odd that reminded me of him.” She nodded toward the spirit.

“Odd?” Shi Jun was puzzled. “What do you mean? Did you see this guy on TV?”

“No, not exactly,” Liu Qing replied. “But it felt very similar.” She described what she’d just witnessed.

While Shi Jun and Motuo were making their third trip to the psychiatric hospital to catch the spirit, Liu Qing had been idly watching TV in the living room. A youth singing competition was being broadcast live. The beautiful young hostess was bantering with her male co-host, playfully poking fun at one of the contestants. Then, something bizarre happened.

In the middle of her speech, the hostess suddenly sneezed loudly, startling Liu Qing—such a lapse of composure was rare for a live broadcast. Before she could process it, the hostess, a famed local celebrity in her early twenties, let out a weird, cackling laugh, her mouth twisting grotesquely. She leaned toward the camera, craned her neck, and looked around shamelessly, muttering, “Damn old hag, where the hell is this place?” Suddenly, a juicy braised chicken drumstick appeared in her hand. Ignoring her vivid red lipstick, she opened her mouth—famous for its sensuality—and began gnawing on the meat with gusto, leaving her co-host utterly dumbfounded.

Since it was a live broadcast, the crew was caught off guard, and the scene of the hostess devouring the chicken played out for several seconds before the feed abruptly cut to a commercial. The program didn’t return; instead, the channel began airing a TV drama, with a scrolling message: “Live broadcast delayed due to satellite transmission issues.”

“That’s really odd,” Shi Jun muttered, his fatigue forgotten. The incident was certainly unexpected, especially during prime time—he imagined the station’s hotline must be flooded with viewers.

“It’s definitely suspicious, but there could be other explanations. Why do you think it’s connected to the spirit?” Shi Jun asked after a pause. While he agreed with Liu Qing’s hunch, he wanted to know if she’d noticed anything else.

Liu Qing shook her head, troubled. “I can’t say for sure—it just felt strange. Even though it happened on TV, I thought I saw a vague, shadowy darkness wrapped around the hostess, just like the one I noticed on him at noon.” She pointed at the spirit.

Just then, Motuo emerged from the bathroom. Shi Jun quickly filled him in on what Liu Qing had just described. “If Liu Qing’s instincts are right, we might have a lead on the second missing ghost. We need to act quickly, or who knows what havoc these things will wreak next.” He glanced at the spirit and sighed. “Too bad this guy is trapped and can’t talk. Otherwise, we might have gotten some answers out of him.”

“Come on, they’re all in cahoots. You think he’d tell us anything?” Motuo scoffed, giving the spirit another hard kick. “But seriously, what are these guys doing in the human world? Are they just here to cause chaos for fun?”

Shi Jun shrugged, not answering. It occurred to him that leaving the spirit lying in the living room wasn’t ideal, so he asked Motuo to help him carry the body into Hu Hai’s room, propping him up against the wall.

Though Hu Hai was immobilized by the Binding Spirit Art, his mind was clear. He’d heard the commotion in the living room and was dying to know what was happening, but Shi Jun and the others hadn’t come in, which left him anxious and sweating. Now, in just a short while, they’d managed to drag in the spirit as well—his eyes nearly popped out of his head. Annoyed at missing the action, he transferred his frustration to the spirit: If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be in this mess. If I ever break free, I’ll make you pay!

He glared at the spirit, wishing his fury could burn him alive. You brought this on yourself! If I hadn’t been preparing to deal with you, I wouldn’t be in such a sorry state. Just wait until I’m free—you’ll regret it.

“Shi, I should remind you: the same spell can affect different people in different ways,” Motuo said, landing another spiteful kick on the spirit before offering his warning. “This one isn’t like Hai—he’s an experienced spirit. He might be able to break free on his own, so be careful!”

Shi Jun pulled Motuo aside. “I thought of that. I tightened the spell, but I don’t have any other tricks up my sleeve. If he does break free, we’ll deal with it then. Besides, we still need his help to figure out how to lift the curse on Hu Hai. Don’t lose your head.”

“That’s true… but be careful.” Motuo grumbled as he slumped onto the edge of the bed. “Poor Hai, though—who knows when he’ll recover? Maybe you should keep working on it; we can’t rely on this guy for everything.” He shot the spirit another glare. “He’s the real problem—just looking at him makes me mad!”

“You’re right. I’ll keep thinking. But let’s not rough him up anymore—surrendered captives should be treated well,” Shi Jun said quickly, seeing Motuo roll up his sleeves as if ready for another round. “Why don’t you go rest? I’ll stay here. When I get tired, you can take over.”

“…Fine.” Motuo, not understanding the concept of “treating captives well” but too weary to argue, nodded reluctantly and shuffled out.

Once Motuo had left, Shi Jun shook his head, then turned to Hu Hai, who was staring wide-eyed, his eyes darting restlessly. Shi Jun smiled. “Hai, if you can’t sleep, why not use this time to calmly practice the basics from the old master’s book? You never sit still anyway, and since you’re stuck, you might as well treat this as training. I’ll figure out how to break the spell sooner or later, so don’t worry.”

Hu Hai thought, I’m not worried, but practicing like a mummy with my eyes wide open feels so foolish. Learning such advanced techniques should at least look a bit more dignified! Still, with his mouth sealed, he couldn’t argue. There really was nothing else to do. So he followed Shi Jun’s advice, quietly recalling the master’s teachings, and soon drifted into a meditative state…