"Who?!" He spun around on his toes, holding the cat in his arms, and the hand that was hanging down was slightly bent, ready to exert force to pinch the newcomer in front of him.

Just as he had sensed, there was another figure about ten meters away from him, but contrary to his expectations, the sudden turn scared the person, who gasped in surprise, shivering and stuttering, "Damn, how come there's someone else! Who, who are you?"

Although the two were not too far apart, Xie Bai stood in the shadow of the trees at the foot of the mountain, almost blending into the darkness. The man happened to stand just outside the shadow of the trees, illuminated by the dim moonlight.

Xie Bai took a moment to examine the man from head to toe in the light—

He was a sturdy middle-aged man with a slightly swollen face, of average height, wrapped in a thick down jacket and holding an old jacket in his hand. At first glance, he looked quite ordinary. But what ordinary person, when well-fed and with nothing to do, would venture out on a cold winter night and wander around in this desolate mountain path?

"What are you doing here?" Xie Bai suddenly became patient. He stared at the man's face, asking calmly.

"Huh? Me?" The man, although sturdy-looking, seemed somewhat timid. He subconsciously took a step back and then, as if trying to save face, took two steps forward toward Xie Bai, swallowing his saliva nervously, "I'm here to burn something. What about you? What are you doing here so late at night?"

Xie Bai ignored the man's latter question, continuing to ask, "Burn what?"

"Burn clothes." The man still seemed stunned by the sudden turn of events, his expression very stiff. He raised the old jacket in his hand, "My old man passed away, it hasn't been seven days yet, and things have been strange at home these past few days. The child cries a lot. We called someone to take a look, and he said we forgot to burn some clothes. So, I rummaged through the drawers and found one that hadn't been burned. The man asked me to come to this road in front of the mountain after dark, burn the clothes facing the mountain, and kowtow three times. Then everything at home will be peaceful."

The man spoke with a dialect accent, his tongue not very agile, sounding somewhat inarticulate.

"Okay," Xie Bai responded with a cold tone, still showing no emotion. He repeated, "Your old man passed away?"

The middle-aged man nodded with an "Mm-hmm," seeming to feel that Xie Bai wasn't as scary as he had initially thought. He cautiously took a few steps forward.

Xie Bai watched quietly as he approached, taking a few more steps until he was close. Then suddenly, he spoke, "Do you know you have marks on your face?"

The man, still holding the jacket, didn't understand, "Huh? What marks?"

Xie Bai said coldly, "Postmortem lividity."

At the mention of these two words, the middle-aged man's slightly swollen face instantly twisted, collapsing like a whole piece of peeled-off skin. A dark shadow with tangled hair suddenly burst out from behind the skin. Its two long arms swooped down like a hurricane toward Xie Bai.

But Xie Bai hadn't relaxed his curved fingers since seeing the man, and witnessing this scene was no surprise to him. He flung his hand, summoning black mist, which instantly spread into a black net, enveloping the eerie black shadow in front of him.

Through the net, Xie Bai saw the face of a child suddenly enlarged, but with eyes covered in a white film, grinning with a sharp "hehe" laugh.

Xie Bai didn't even blink his eyes. With a flick of his fingers, the entire black net instantly wrapped the creepy black shadow, tightly binding it within.

"Ai Shanxiao?" Xie Bai sneered.

"Shanxiao" was a general term for mountain spirits. There were countless mountains and hills in the world, and mountain spirits were not uncommon. The cultivation of mountain spirits was particularly difficult, so their abilities varied greatly. Some were particularly powerful and could transform freely, with no slightest flaw when taking human form. But most mountain spirits were still in a semi-finished state, appearing neither human nor ghost, half like monkeys and half like humans.

For nearly a few hundred years, there was only one highly accomplished practitioner of mountain spirits, who was now serving in an organization that managed the human world. The rest of the mountain spirits were semi-finished. To distinguish them, they were downgraded to "Ai Shanxiao". (NT: 矮 ǎi means short)

Although the group that oversaw the affairs of the human world rarely intersected with Xie Bai and his companions, they were like two separate streams that never meet, and they might not see each other for eight hundred years. But those essences belonging to the realm of spirits, if anything were to happen to them one day, would still have to pass through Xie Bai's hands. So even if it was a mountain spirit, they wouldn't just come to Xie Bai for no reason, let alone the half-finished "Ai Shanxiao".

It was really getting boring.

With a cold face, Xie Bai suddenly clenched his fingers, and the joints of his bones made a few light sounds.

Suddenly, the black net that had locked the Ai Shanxiao tightly within it was forcefully pulled toward the center with great force. Dozens of sharp sounds, like sharp objects being pressed into taut flesh, echoed as if in succession. The Ai Shanxiao was instantly torn apart by the powerful force of the net, exploding into countless fragments of spirit, floating in the air.

Xie Bai stretched out his thin, pale fingers, and all those fragmented spirits were sucked into his hand, turning into a dim, round light bead, which he then put away with a flip of his hand.

As the Ai Shanxiao disintegrated, a porcelain long-necked bottle fell with a clatter. Even though the ground was soft, the slender neck couldn't withstand the impact and broke with a "crack" after rolling on the ground for two rounds.

As a result, there was a sharp cry of men, women, and children mixed together, and a dense crowd of Yin ghosts poured out from the bottle in an instant, madly spreading like a tide, instantly surrounding Xie Bai.

These Yin ghosts exuded a chilling aura, their grievances soaring to the sky, causing Xie Bai to choke, and an inexplicable sweet and bloody smell rushed up, making him cough violently.

With one hand supporting the tree trunk full of wooden thorns, he coughed so hard that he could hardly straighten his back, but the Yin ghosts kept pouring in, squeezing tighter and tighter, almost burying him alive.

Just by glancing at these Yin ghosts, one could tell that they had either died a violent death or a premature death, and each one's death was more gruesome than the last. Yet they hadn't even completed the mourning period (NT: the first seven days after death), and the Ai Shanxiao had tricked them into being captured and stuffed into that broken porcelain bottle, causing them to be packed together and squeezed into it, adding insult to injury.

Fortunately, Xie Bai carried the shadow of a hundred fierce ghosts. If it were someone slightly weaker, these insane and demonic Yin ghosts would have devoured them clean in an instant, leaving no bone behind.

Xie Bai coughed harder and harder, dispersing the Yin ghosts with one hand. However, he was helpless as two were driven away, three more would rush forward. For a moment, he almost suspected that the Ai Shanxiao had gathered all the violently and prematurely deceased spirits from all corners of the country and stuffed them into that broken bottle.

 

Translator : DarNan