Corpse Retriever

Li Zhuiyuan had once experienced his great-grandfather’s luck—so he figured misfortune couldn’t feel much different.

“So if she was with me before, then now she’s…” Xue Liangliang trailed off and looked toward Runsheng.

Clearly, he’d already sensed something off about Runsheng.

Tan Wenbin finally caught on too. Though Runsheng usually came off slow and quiet, he was actually quite sharp, especially when it came to memory. Whenever Xiao Yuan gave him a string of directions or requests, he always managed to carry them out perfectly.

But just now, Runsheng had seemed dazed, like recalling something required digging through molasses.

“Me?” Runsheng raised a hand and began feeling over his body. “Where is she?”

Then he pulled out a talisman and slapped it onto his forehead.

He peeled it off. No color change.

“Xiao Yuan, nothing.”

“She’s probably not a Dead Sinker.”“So what do we do?” Runsheng clenched his fists. “If she’s inside me, then I’m staying. The three of you should try to run—maybe one of you will make it.”

He paused, then pointed at Xue Liangliang and Tan Wenbin. “Or you two stay with me and let Xiao Yuan run. He’s clean. He couldn’t leave before probably because we were dragging him down.”

Xue Liangliang and Tan Wenbin both nodded—they clearly agreed.

But Li Zhuiyuan refused. “That’s not going to work. I don’t think that little girl is capable of setting something this elaborate up. What we’ve entered must be a separate haunted zone.

Normally, we wouldn’t even be able to get in here—probably not even on purpose. But because she came with us, we were guided and triggered into it.

Which means that whether she’s here or not, we likely can’t get out easily.”

Tan Wenbin shouted in growing frustration, “Then what do we do! What do we do! What do we do!”

Li Zhuiyuan and Xue Liangliang both shot him a glance, then quickly looked away.

Runsheng opened his mouth to speak, but Li Zhuiyuan cut him off first:

“Runsheng-ge, don’t talk. Just sit here and hold my hand. I’ll try a Corpse Retriever method—maybe I can break her hold on you.”

Runsheng nodded hard and gripped Li Zhuiyuan’s hand.

Li Zhuiyuan withdrew his hand, then took hold of Runsheng’s instead.

The boy’s fingertips were already red—he’d pressed them in cinnabar ink earlier.

Next, with his free hand, Li Zhuiyuan flipped over the compass in front of him, opened a hidden slot beneath, and pinched a small amount of white powder.

Because they’d taken public transport, he hadn’t brought gear like the Yellow River Spade, but he’d packed all the small essentials.

This was Ding Dalin’s compass, which had built-in slots. Li Zhuiyuan also used to carry a fan with various compartments for powders, each with a specific use.

That fan was more of a gimmick—fine for ancient times, weird in modern settings.

So he’d transferred all the useful powders into the compass. Runsheng always carried it anyway.

“Runsheng-ge, ready. We’re starting.”

Runsheng nodded again, obediently silent.

Li Zhuiyuan closed his eyes. Just before entering Walking the Shade, he abruptly let go of Runsheng and grabbed Tan Wenbin instead.

Walking the Shade—success!

In this state, the other three vanished. Only a little girl in red stood before him, her hand clutched in his.

Last time, he’d entered the state while connected to Runsheng, and she hadn’t been in Runsheng, so she’d avoided detection.

But now Runsheng had clearly recovered—his thinking sharp again—while Tan Wenbin was emotionally unraveling.

It was a logical assumption. She’d heard their plan, left Runsheng, and latched onto Tan Wenbin.

But clearly, she wasn’t good at playing mind games.

Xue Liangliang and Li Zhuiyuan had already noticed but kept quiet on purpose.

“Gege, I’m hungry.”

The girl pleaded, cheeks flushing with shyness.

She really was quite cute—easy to pity. No wonder the others had wanted to help her.

Too bad Li Zhuiyuan didn’t have that kind of emotional surplus.

Maybe she’d sensed this too, and that’s why she hadn’t targeted the youngest one.

Li Zhuiyuan raised his free hand and struck.

In the real world, he sat motionless, but the white powder between his fingers stirred and drifted without wind, straight to the back of Tan Wenbin’s neck.

Tan Wenbin’s nose itched—he almost sneezed.

Then his neck turned icy cold, like a slab of ice slapped on his skin. Then searing heat followed—an intense burning. A patch of his skin felt like it was about to peel off.

In Walking the Shade, the girl was screaming in agony.

“Smack!”

She bolted, her figure fading as she fled.

Li Zhuiyuan looked down at the severed arm in his grip, still bleeding like a blood-soaked lotus root.

Now came the awkward part: should he give chase? He’d never fought while in this state. Would he just bite and wrestle her down? What would “killing” her even look like?

She’d lost an arm and still wasn’t “dead.”

Maybe he could use Wei Zhengdao’s Black Book—try to control her?

But she didn’t seem like a Dead Sinker—her body had already turned to ash.

While he hesitated, the moment passed. She faded into the distance and disappeared.

Still, that counted as a win—he’d driven her off.

No wonder it’s called “ghost expulsion.”

Even seasoned professionals would struggle with this. Let alone someone cross-specializing like him.

Could she still return to her ash urn? Or would she just vanish as a lonely ghost?

If she dissipates, she had it coming.

Li Zhuiyuan closed his eyes. His awareness rose back up.

When he opened them again, he saw Runsheng, Xue Liangliang, and Tan Wenbin each with talismans slapped onto themselves.

Li Zhuiyuan: “Those talismans won’t help.”

Runsheng: “Sure they do. She moved from me to Binbin, that’s why the talisman didn’t change color.”

Everyone had clearly caught on by now—Tan Wenbin’s neck was dark blue and aching badly.

“Hiss… She really snuck onto me. Damn it!”

Xue Liangliang joked while checking the injury: “Maybe she was hanging on your neck most of the trip.”

“Shit, that explains why I can’t memorize my English vocab. It just vanishes!”

Li Zhuiyuan said, “She’s been driven off. Probably won’t come back. If she does, we’ll just expel her again.”

He looked down at his hand. The severed arm was gone, of course, but he still rubbed dry leaves between his palms.

Then he examined their faces. They weren’t fully restored but looked far less grim than before.

“Now we need to figure out how to leave this place,” said Xue Liangliang, pointing to the village. “If there’s no other way, the answer might be in there.”

“There’s someone in the village—I saw them. But I don’t know if they’re alive.”

Runsheng said, “If we’re going, we should go now—before hunger weakens me more.”

“Give me a bit longer. Let me try something else.”

Li Zhuiyuan picked up his compass and stood, studying the feng shui.

Xue Liangliang followed him. Runsheng stayed to massage Tan Wenbin’s neck.

“Gentler! That hurts!”

“If it hurts, it’s blocked. If it’s clear, it won’t hurt.”

Li Zhuiyuan didn’t go far—just scoped out the village, the path, and adjusted his compass.

Honestly, he was close to giving up. If he’d had a better idea, he would’ve used it already. This was just a last-ditch effort—he really didn’t want to enter that village.

“Xiao Yuan, I still think we should try my idea. Enter the village.”

“Liangliang-ge, your experience was a special case. You got out because someone pressured Baijia Town from the outside.”

“No, Xiao Yuan, I meant: if we want to leave but can’t, maybe going in is actually the way out. A reverse logic.”

Li Zhuiyuan realized he’d misunderstood Liangliang-ge—and also realized how useful he was when not haunted.

“To test that, we can split into two groups. One stays put. The other follows a set path. We could try running corners, circles—see how we end up.”

“No, no splitting up.”

“Then…”

“I’d rather we all charge into the village together.”

“Okay, Xiao Yuan, you decide.”

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