Chapter 107: The Abandoned Village Ruins

Xuanxuan mixed the eight types of herbs into a small saucer, then crushed them into powder with her thumb. Since they were already air-dried, they crumbled with ease.

She possessed an item that Hao Dalong carried with him at all times—the casing of his personal protective amulet. Combined with her deep knowledge of his birth date and time, the process was remarkably straightforward.

She held the saucer of herbal powder over a flame. As a wisp of greenish smoke rose, it emitted a strange, pungent, and spicy scent. Then, she closed her eyes and began to chant archaic, cryptic incantations in a low voice. This was the essence of the craft; naturally, a layman could make nothing of it.

Qi Yan had once heard similar chants when he visited Ajarn Sat in Bangkok. They were quite different from the sutras chanted by monks in the country, possessing a distinctly eerie tone.

At this moment, Ding Lingzi’s expression had softened somewhat, though she remained visibly weak, struggling to sit up and lean against the headboard.

Seeing Xuanxuan’s complexion turn increasingly grim, Qi Yan initially feared something had gone wrong. However, Uncle Yan explained from the side that the technique Xuanxuan was using was a form of "herbal sorcery"—a relatively mild type of black magic. If the goal was simply to establish a connection with the target, it was quite simple. Furthermore, despite her youth, Xuanxuan had already surpassed Uncle Yan himself in certain aspects of shamanistic practices.

They were not black sorcerers, however. Every time they used such arts, they were extremely cautious, never resorting to malevolent spells unless absolutely necessary. Like the practice of raising poisonous insects, sorcery had its benevolent side as well, as seen with some witch doctors in Thailand.

After a long incantation, Xuanxuan sprinkled the charred herbal powder onto the casing of Hao Dalong’s amulet. She pressed her hands together over it, held it to her forehead, and resumed her silent meditation.

This type of ritual is strictly forbidden from being interrupted, so even though the others were watching, they collectively held their breath and remained silent.

Seconds ticked by. After about five or six minutes, Xuanxuan’s shoulders relaxed with a sigh of relief. She opened her eyes and scattered the powder and the casing onto the floor. Observing the pile of discarded remnants for a moment, she smiled contentedly. "Good! He isn't far. The direction is... east! Southeast."

While the exact distance could not be pinpointed, knowing the precise direction and a general range was enough to establish a location.

Without delay, and after Uncle Yan offered a few words of concern, Xuanxuan packed up her belongings and slung her small backpack over her shoulder. Qi Yan followed closely behind. Once they stepped out of the inn, they headed straight for the east end of the village.

They had come prepared, so they carried small flashlights instead of relying on their phones to light the way. Xuanxuan walked quickly. Qi Yan scanned the roadside and picked up an arm-length iron rod covered in rust. He weighed it in his hand; it felt solid enough to serve as a weapon.

In this dilapidated little village, not even the bark of a dog could be heard.

"Sister Xuanxuan, how dangerous do you think this will be?" Qi Yan asked, turning his head toward her.

Xuanxuan gave a sharp, cold laugh. "That depends on what we run into..."

"Fair enough. If it's a person, I'll handle it. If it's a ghost, it’s all you." Qi Yan took the liberty of assigning their roles.

They hurried toward the east end of the village. The distance was short, and they arrived before long. They had walked this road earlier that evening, and it was here that they had first caught the scent of that strange fragrance.

However, this time, Xuanxuan did not lead them toward the livestock sheds. Instead, she adjusted their course to head directly toward the row of dilapidated, abandoned houses in the old section of the village.

"Taking the inn as the center, southeast should be right there."

Qi Yan looked up and saw that behind those rows of low houses in the old village sat a wide, low mountain—the one that had suffered a landslide long ago.

"So... is he in the old village, or on the mountain behind it?" While they were in the same general direction, the implications were vastly different. If he were in the old village, the area was cluttered and complex, but limited in size, making it relatively easy to search. But if he were on the mountain... that would require careful planning. Setting aside unknown dangers, walking mountain paths at night was inherently perilous. They weren't locals; if they ended up going missing themselves while trying to find Hao Dalong, it would be a disaster.

Xuanxuan felt the same, but without knowing the exact distance, she couldn't be sure. "Let's search near those old houses first. If he isn't there, then he must be on the mountain. If that’s the case... we’ll contact Uncle Yan and discuss what to do next."

Decided, they crossed a sunken mud embankment and headed straight into the old village.

The new village, where many people lived, was already deathly quiet at this hour; the abandoned old village was even more so. It consisted entirely of single-story houses, most of them crumbling with gray bricks and black tiles. The weeds grew over a foot high, creating an atmosphere of extreme gloom. Thankfully, the temperature wasn't cold, or it would have been even more chilling.

Xuanxuan asked, "Hey, now that we're here, do you smell that strange scent?"

"No, not yet," Qi Yan replied after sniffing the air.

They turned on their flashlights, climbed a small slope, and slowed their pace as they entered the dense cluster of old houses. Their vigilance was at its peak. They couldn't call out, as the source of danger was unknown and Hao Dalong’s safety was uncertain; they didn't want to alert whatever might be lurking. They could only search carefully with their flashlights.

It was pitch black, and the ground was cluttered with debris and wild weeds, making it impossible to spot tracks or signs.

There was no point in splitting up—that would only invite more trouble.

Every step Qi Yan took caused the loose gravel and sand to crunch softly. A breeze drifted through, causing the old, broken wooden boards to sway and creak.

If some ghostly entity were to appear openly, it might have been better; it was this quiet, unpredictable environment that slowly eroded one's sanity. Furthermore, there was a seventy-percent chance that an unknown ghost or malevolent spirit was at work in the shadows.

Though the old village wasn't massive, there were many low houses. If Hao Dalong didn't call out for help, finding him would be difficult.

Xuanxuan had taken out two strings of prayer beads in addition to her flashlight—one of Vajra Bodhi and one of Star and Moon Bodhi, interspersed with several yellowed animal teeth.

"This place is truly wrong. I can feel a chill. Don't you dare get separated from me."

After searching intently for a while, Qi Yan felt a dull ache in his shoulders and twisted his neck to relieve the tension. He heard the faint buzzing of a mosquito near his ear and felt a cold breeze blowing against it.

He raised his hand and slapped it, startling Xuanxuan. "What is it?!"

"A mosquito..."

"Gosh... try to keep quiet. Do you want to scare me to death?" As she spoke, she shone her flashlight onto Qi Yan’s face and her eyes immediately widened in horror.

Staring at her expression, Qi Yan froze, not daring to move a muscle.

"Qi... Qi Yan..."

"Yeah? What?"

"Don't move. Whatever you do, don't turn your head... don't, move!"