Calling Ghost
It’s the Calling Ghost!
Zheng Que realized it immediately and furrowed his brows. Last night, it was only after he responded that the Calling Ghost could enter his room.
But today, it no longer needed his response to barge right in.
He glanced down at the empty space in front of the bed. The shoes he had taken off were still placed one facing forward, the other backward.
But Zheng Que’s expression remained tense. He had just seen his own lifespan recorded in the Book of Life and Death: it ended tonight at the hour of Hai.
If what was written in the Book of Life and Death was true, then once the hour of Hai arrived, he would die at the hands of this Calling Ghost.
“Disciple, come out! Come out now!”
“Your master remembers your scent. You can’t escape!”
The familiar voice kept calling, drawing closer and closer. In the blink of an eye it was already right before him.
Suddenly Zheng Que felt the foot of the bed sink. The last rays of the setting sun cast an unusually bright light into the room. He strained his eyes but saw nothing. Yet on the bedding at the foot of the bed, bloody footprints rapidly appeared one after another.
Those footprints moved steadily, heading straight toward him with clear intent.
The Calling Ghost had found him!
Zheng Que was startled for a moment, then quickly reacted. He immediately threw a punch toward the location of the bloody footprints.
Whoosh!
He felt his fist strike something cold, soft, and insubstantial, like mist. There was little resistance and his fist passed right through.
Zheng Que froze, unsure whether he had hit the creature or not. The next moment a chilling wave of Yin Qi suddenly swept toward him, striking him directly in the face.
In that instant Zheng Que felt a bone-deep coldness, as if a bucket of ice and snow had been poured over his head. An overwhelming chill enveloped him completely.
He was all too familiar with this deathly cold. Without hesitation he quickly rolled toward the head of the bed to dodge.
Swish.
Zheng Que immediately felt a cold sensation on his left cheek, followed by warm blood trickling down his face.
His hairs stood on end: if he had dodged even a moment later, he would now be a headless corpse.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.
A fierce yin wind howled and raged through the room. The bloody footprints on the bed suddenly sped up, lunging toward Zheng Que.
Without time to think, he immediately stood up and kicked toward the spot where the footprints had appeared.
Whoosh!
Just like before, Zheng Que felt his leg pass through a cold, mist-like substance, touching nothing else.
Having missed his kick he quickly leaped off the bed.
Thud!
As soon as Zheng Que landed he saw the bloody footprints chasing after him onto the floor.
But the moment the footprints touched the ground, they vanished.
Immediately after, he felt a gust of yin wind rushing toward him. In the blink of an eye it appeared right in front of him.
Zheng Que hastily sidestepped to dodge, but a sharp pain instantly shot through his chest. A foot-long wound had been torn open, his clothes splitting apart to reveal flesh and gushing blood.
At the same time he immediately threw a punch toward the spot where he had just been standing.
His fist whistled through a cold gust of yin wind, hitting nothing solid.
Before Zheng Que could retract his hand, a piercingly cold yin energy instantly enveloped his arm.
Immediately after, an excruciating pain shot through it, as if something had bitten down hard. Bloodstains began to appear out of nowhere.
Zheng Que’s face paled as he frantically flung his arm to the side.
At that moment his injured arm suddenly seemed to strike something solid. With the force of his swing the object biting into his arm was instantly thrown off.
Thud!
A muffled sound echoed as if something heavy had hit the ground, yet nothing was visible to the naked eye.
“Ah!!”
A shrill, agonized scream pierced the air.
“Disciple, you hurt your master!”
“Disciple! You’re dead!”
A low, raspy voice echoed repeatedly throughout the room.
The Yin Qi in the chamber surged dramatically. As a chilling aura spread, the temperature plummeted and frost began to form on the ground.
Seeing this, Zheng Que immediately realized: it was blood!
Ordinary punches and kicks would simply pass through the Calling Ghost’s form.
Only a cultivator’s blood could truly harm it!
In a flash of insight, Zheng Que swiftly wiped his other hand across the wound on his chest, smearing it with blood.
Just then he felt the chilling wind rushing toward his face again. Without hesitation he swung his blood-stained fist forward.
Thump!
Unlike his previous attacks, this time Zheng Que instantly felt his fist connect with something solid.
“Aaaaaah!”
An exceptionally piercing shriek erupted. The Calling Ghost seemed to have sustained significant damage.
Seeing that his attack was effective, Zheng Que abandoned his defensive stance and threw another punch toward the direction of the sound.
Thump!
This time the sensation was even more distinct: it felt as though he had shattered something outright.
“Stop! Stop it…”
“Don’t hit me…”
The low, raspy voice pleaded, but Zheng Que paid no heed. Seizing the advantage he unleashed a flurry of wild punches toward the source of the sound.
Bang! Crash! Thud! Smash!
After more than a dozen punches, a bloodstained outline gradually materialized in the air before him.
It was a humanoid figure, roughly the same height as an ordinary person. Its head was bald, grotesquely adorned with five mouths, each elongated and split open as if dividing the skull into five uneven sections. The crimson lips continuously twitched and parted, revealing rows of fine, sharp teeth.
In the gaps between the mouths, seventeen ears sprouted, each larger than a normal human ear and facing in all directions.
Aside from these features it had no hair, no eyes, no eyebrows, no nose. Where arms should have been there were instead a pair of sharp claws. Only its feet retained a human-like appearance.
Thud!!
Zheng Que landed another punch squarely on the bloodstained outline’s head.
In the next moment the bloodstained figure stiffened and collapsed to the ground. Its mouths twitched rapidly a few times as if trying to speak, but no sound emerged. Soon all movement ceased.
Was it over?
After the intense outburst Zheng Que felt utterly exhausted, gasping for breath. He wiped another handful of blood from his wound and prepared to deliver a final blow.
Just then the outline of the Calling Ghost seemed to melt away, vanishing abruptly.
The bloodstains that had clung to it lost their target and splattered onto the ground.
The lingering Yin Qi in the room dissipated along with it.
Before Zheng Que could react the scene shifted once more, and the dilapidated hall reappeared before his eyes.
He sat once more on the rickety armchair before the long table, where the opened Book of Life and Death lay. The first page, which had originally been blank except for his own name, now bore new peculiar characters beneath it.