“How did you know?”
Huo Wei’s goosebumps rose again. The moment she left the village chief’s office, she couldn’t wait to grab Fu Sang’s sleeve and ask:
“How did you know it was that number? Why seventy-seven exactly?”
“Because this formation is very special. The Seventh Watch Blood Cry…seventh watch. All the imagery used to set up the formation is fixed at ‘seven’. By calculation, the necessary life force would naturally be the same. There are clearly more than seven villagers, and far fewer than three digits, so it could only be seventy-seven,” Fu Sang answered.
“Then why seven specifically? Could it be because Qi Changying’s surname is Qi? Even our ancestors liked puns,” Huo Wei muttered a complaint, but then saw Fu Sang glance over:
“Maybe. That ancestor himself was called Qi Yueban, it’s hard to say if he didn’t have a special fondness for seven.”
**The word “qi” and”seven” have the same pronunciation in Chinese.
Qi Yueban (七月半) literally means “July Half”/ 15th day of the 7th month in the lunar calendar. This is the Ghost Festival (also known as Zhongyuan Festival) in Chinese tradition. On this day, it’s believed that the gates of the underworld open and spirits roam the living world.
Huo Wei thought he made sense.
She mulled over the names “Qi Yueban” and “Seventh Watch Blood Cry” in her mind, her pace unconsciously slowing. By the time she came back to her senses, Fu Sang had already twisted and turned his way out of the village.
“Hey, where are you going? It’s already dawn, we’ve done what we needed to do. Shouldn’t we grab our things and head back to the family to report?”
“I told you, no reporting.”
Seeing that Fu Sang was about to enter that gloomy mountain again, Huo Wei was truly terrified from the bottom of her heart.
But after pondering for a moment, she gritted her teeth, stomped her foot, and then jogged to catch up.
Fu Sang had an extremely strong sense of direction. He had come out of the mountain in the dark last night, and now that it was daylight, he still roughly remembered the route he had taken, heading straight for the bottom of the Buzhou Cliff.
Along the way, Huo Wei was startled again and again. In the end, she simply held onto the strap of Fu Sang’s backpack and closed her eyes, refusing to look at their surroundings, letting Fu Sang lead her along.
“You’re scared to this extent and yet you still insist on coming along, what’s the point?”
Fu Sang asked, while surveying the environment around them.
This Hei Mountain Pass was indeed eerie. Outside, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the sun was rising; inside, it was dark and gloomy, with thin mist hanging among the trees as if it would never dissipate.
“I’m only following you because you know so much.” Huo Wei tentatively squinted one eye open, only to shut it again in fright at the sight of the half-bloody body hanging upside down from a treetop.
“Are there that many spirits here?” Seeing her scared into such a cowardly state, Fu Sang asked casually.
“Isn’t that obvious? The Weeping Soul Coin has been crying the whole way…can’t you hear it! Let me be honest with you, it looks like it’s just the two of us here, but in reality, there’s a whole football field’s worth of brothers and sisters loving us dearly!”
Huo Wei’s teeth were practically chattering, but Fu Sang still had the interest to ask:
“What do they all look like?”
“What do they look like…” In order to answer this tricky question for a good brother who had never seen ghosts, Huo Wei mustered up the courage to take another half-glance:
“Bloody and gory, not many intact ones, with all sorts of outfits from ancient to modern times. Oh my god… this is the first time I’ve seen so many ghosts, and ghosts that died such horrible deaths! Just how many people has this formation killed in these desolate mountains over the past thousand years?”
After saying that, Huo Wei thought for a moment and shook her head:
“But if it was to suppress a Crimson Evil… I guess it’s not hard to understand. If a Crimson Evil were let loose, the lives it would take probably wouldn’t be limited to just those in the mountains, right?”
On hearing this, Fu Sang unexpectedly replied:
“Not necessarily.”
Huo Wei was stunned: “What do you mean?”
Fu Sang didn’t answer.
Because he had found the pile of rubble where he had woken up last night. As for the cave that housed the main body of the Seventh Watch Blood Crying Prison, it was completely out of sight.
“…You shouldn’t have come back, Fu Sang.”
Just as Fu Sang was looking up at the cliff face, he suddenly heard a familiar voice coming from a high place behind him.
Turning around, he saw Qi Changying leaning on a branch jutting out from a tall, withered tree. The iron chain at his ankle hung down from the branch, swaying without wind, clinking softly.
“You have come at the right time. I have something to ask you.”
Fu Sang turned to look at him:
“Was it you who pulled me into the cave last night? Where is that place?”
“…”
Qi Changying thought for a moment: “I don’t want to tell you.”
“No. You have to answer my questions.” Fu Sang’s attitude was firm.
“Why?”
“Because I’m the one who gave you freedom.” Actually, Fu Sang wasn’t sure if that was true, but he was going to claim the credit anyway:
“Whether human or ghost, one must know how to repay kindness.”
Talking about repaying kindness to a ghost was actually a bit ridiculous.
But fortunately, he happened to run into a good ghost that knew how to repay kindness.
“…It wasn’t me. In that formation, I couldn’t do anything, nor did I want to. Wasn’t it you who stumbled in last night?”
Qi Changying looked up at the opposite cliff, pointed casually, and his tone seemed to carry a hint of regret:
“As for the location, I don’t know… it should be over there. But you can’t get in, and I can’t go back either.”
“?”
What a novel ghost.
The Seventh Watch Blood Crying Prison, the punishment of Purifying Ghost Fire burning day and night, the extreme and vicious suppression of the Ten-Thousand-Death-Without-Survival Talisman… this ghost had endured all these torments for nearly a thousand years. Yet, having escaped, he didn’t seem overjoyed; if anything, from his tone, he seemed to want to go back?
“So why go back?” Fu Sang asked.
Qi Changying hesitated for a moment, then gave an answer that was unexpected:
“To wait for someone.”
“For whom?”
“I’ve forgotten.”
At least he responded to every question.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t answer any of them.
Fu Sang didn’t pay it much mind either.
He changed the question:
“How did you die back then?”
This time, Qi Changying remained silent for an even longer time.
He slightly lowered his eyes. If it weren’t for the breeze gently lifting his long hair, he would have been as still as a painting.
Sure enough, after a long time, Qi Changying’s answer was still:
“…I’ve forgotten.”
That wasn’t surprising either.
After becoming a ghost, people selectively strip away the complex and painful memories of their life as a protective mechanism, leaving only the purest love and hate in the soul.
The lower the rank of a spirit, the more it forgets. It seemed that even the strongest seventh-rank’s memories were far from complete.
‘Useless Crimson Evil.’
Fu Sang let out a very soft “tsk”, ignored Qi Changying, and continued walking deeper into Hei Mountain Pass on his own.
Seeing this, Huo Wei hurried to catch up: “Hey, where are you going…?”
“There’s something deeper inside Hei Mountain Pass.”
Fu Sang narrowed his eyes slightly, looking at the shadowy path ahead:
“…I can feel it.”
Fu Sang stared at the winding and undulating road in the valley. After taking a few steps, Qi Changying swept over like smoke and solidified before his eyes:
“Fu Sang, don’t go any further.”
“Mind your own business.” Fu Sang didn’t even look up and walked around him.
“Repaying kindness.” Qi Changying threw back the boomerang.
“Then your benefactor is telling you to mind your own business now.”
“It’s very dangerous. You’ll lose your life.”
“It’s my life…I’ll spend it however I want.”
Fu Sang ignored him, only following that indescribable something, walking step by step into the deeper part of the mist.
There was something inside Hei Mountain Pass.
It was like some kind of call, constantly pulling him forward.
Fu Sang didn’t know what that thing was, or whether it would be a blessing or a curse for him.
But he had a feeling that if there was something he couldn’t figure out, that might be the answer.
It was just…
Fu Sang glanced at Huo Wei:
“Will you wait here? Or go back first. I’ll find you later.”
“What do you mean? Are you ditching me?!” Huo Wei’s eyes widened like copper bells.
“…”
Fu Sang was silent for a moment, realizing the wording was a bit ambiguous: “It sounded a bit scummy. But it’s for your own good.”
“That line is even more classic and more scummy, thanks.”
Huo Wei firmly grabbed Fu Sang’s backpack strap and hid behind him:
“There’s no way I’m walking back through that bloody ghost nest, I’m telling you. Even if there’s a mountain of knives and a sea of fire ahead, I’m sticking with you!”
“That sounds very loyal and righteous.” Fu Sang commented again.
“Take off ‘sounds like’, I am very loyal and righteous.” Huo Wei pursed her lips, then couldn’t help asking one more question:
“Why go in? What did you sense?”
“I can’t quite put my finger on it. It’s like some mysterious feeling…”
Fu Sang didn’t finish his sentence, But said something else entirely;
“Don’t you think it’s strange?”
“What’s strange?”
“From what we’ve seen so far, Qi Changying doesn’t seem like a terrifying seventh-rank Crimson Evil.”
“I don’t know, I haven’t seen him… What exactly doesn’t seem like it?”
“He’s very lucid.”
“The higher the rank of an underworld spirit, the clearer its mind. Isn’t that normal?”
“Yes, but he’s also very calm, with no aggressive tendencies at all.”
“Didn’t you say he’s a remnant soul? Maybe it just happens that this remnant part is the kind and gentle part. The complete version might be a bloodthirsty fierce ghost.”
Fu Sang paused for a moment, and then replied subjectively:
“I don’t think he seems like that.”
“Your opinion doesn’t count either. Just because you like the historical stories passed down under the name ‘Qi Changying’ doesn’t mean you should see him through rose-colored glasses, right? If he weren’t a heinous, vicious and evil Crimson Evil, why would our ancestors go through all that trouble to suppress him?”
Huo Wei let out a light scoff, but her question struck a cord with Fu Sang:
“Yes.”
He raised an eyebrow very slightly:
“Why, indeed…?”
Fu Sang wasn’t the type of person Huo Wei described who would put a filter on someone because of personal feelings.
He was indeed interested in Qi Changying, but that was separate…if Qi Changying truly were an evil ghost, he wouldn’t hesitate to send him straight to the afterlife.
But for some reason, he felt that things weren’t as they appeared.
Maybe it was because he had always been suspicious of certain things, or maybe it was something else. Looking at that seventh-rank Crimson Evil that made people go pale at the mere mention of him, Fu Sang didn’t think he was as ferocious and bloodthirsty as the world rumored.
At the same time, it seemed there was another voice calling to him from deep within Hei Mountain Pass.
That voice kept drawing him into the mist, telling him, ‘come, the answer is within reach’.
As Fu Sang had sensed, the place with the heaviest yin energy in Hei Mountain Pass was not the cave where the main body of the Seventh Watch Blood Crying Prison formation was located.
It was a well that stood out conspicuously in the desolate mountains.
The well was pitch black all over, covered in some reflective rust patterns, looking heavy and ancient. The mouth of the well was very small, barely wider than a human head.
“This place… it’s so uncomfortable… ugh!!”
Huo Wei looked at the well and inexplicably felt like throwing up.
Although spirit masters stood outside heaven and Earth’s forces, those in this line of work all had sharp senses, and when the evil and sinister energy reaches a certain degree, it was hard not to affect them. It hadn’t been too bad when they were outside the perimeter, but now, as she approached this well, she felt her internal organs churning..it was her instinct for danger warning her to get away from here immediately.
“Stand farther back.”
Fu Sang’s reaction wasn’t as strong as Huo Wei’s…it was still within a bearable range.
He pushed Huo Wei farther away, put on his Ghost Blood Cloak, and stepped closer to the well.
The dark well mouth was surrounded by piled-up rubble and dead leaves, along with grayish-white spider webs of unknown age.
Drawing closer, Fu Sang noticed a red cord hanging from the well’s mouth.
The shape of the cord was very familiar, it was the blood rope commonly used by nether-path spirit masters for making tools or setting up formations.
Fu Sang had never been one for taboos.
He went straight over and picked up the red cord. To his surprise, the end of the red cord that disappeared into the well seemed to have something attached to it. At first, it was hard to pull, but after a sudden hard tug, the resistance on the other end suddenly decreased, becoming much lighter.
The mountain was shrouded in mist, with no sunlight year-round. Standing on the ground, it was impossible to see what was in the well.
Fu Sang could only judge by the feel of the pull…
There was water in the well.
He pulled the red cord up little by little.
The dangling rope seemed to have many common evil-repelling items tied to it, like copper coins and bells. With the slightest force, they clattered endlessly.
When the end of the red cord was finally pulled out of the dark well, he discovered it was a long black nail.
The nail was about the length of his forearm, shaped overall like a coiled snake, with the sharp point of the nail spiraling upward. The snake’s head was nothing but bone, with its mouth wide open, revealing two slightly curved fangs.
Whether it was Fu Sang’s imagination or not, a loud rumble seemed to come from somewhere in the distance. The temperature around them seemed to drop much further, and a gust of wind swept up the dead leaves on the ground, howling past.
Fu Sang held the red cord, about to bring the long nail closer for a look, when he looked up and froze.
Because he discovered that the hand that had touched the end of the red cord was stained with a wet, spreading red, carrying an aged, fishy smell.
After a moment’s thought, he brought his hand close to his nose and sniffed lightly.
His gaze paused slightly, but he wasn’t very surprised.
What lay at the bottom of this dark well was not water.
It was human blood.
