“Have you lost your mind?” Hai Ling hissed at Xiao Mei, dragging her farther away from the five ghost hunters. “Do you want to get us all killed?”

  “No…” the girl squeaked so faintly it was barely audible, lowering her head in guilt.

  “Oh… I have no strength left for you. You can’t go out!”

  “Don’t scold her. It’s useless,” Cao Siwen interceded. “She’s still not herself.”

  “They’ll kill us because of her! Kill us! Do you understand?” Hai Ling whispered fiercely. “Look at them.” She pointed toward the ravine where the five men were hiding. “We’ve drawn too much attention. They’ll definitely catch us.”

  “I won’t do it again, Sister,” Xiao Mei sniffled.

  “Oh! It’s the same every time. Fine. Let’s go back.”

  For the next two days, the girl faithfully kept her promise and did not go outside. Together with her two newfound sisters, she meditated in their underground shelter when heavy footsteps sounded above their heads. The old planks creaked, then fell silent.

  That had never happened before. By sound alone they could always recognize Zhang Ming, but this time, the person standing above them was a stranger.

  Hai Ling gestured for silence and motioned for them to resume the meditation method from the scroll. Living at the very heart of a bandit stronghold had learned how to make themselves invisible. At the slightest danger, their vital energy obeyed their will and stilled, retreating inward. Even their hearts began to beat more slowly; their breathing nearly vanished.

  Beneath the earth, the girls froze like statues.

  A few days earlier, while they had remained hidden in their shelter, rumors of ghosts had spread through the Earth Dragon fortress. Some bandits believed them. Others pretended to be ghosts themselves to borrow other people’s belongings, which led to several scuffles. The most gullible bought talismans to ward off spirits. Others, on the contrary, set out to catch them, though they had little idea how.

  Fortunately, few knew the source of the rumors; otherwise, the superstitious peasants would long since have been punished. Immersed in their work, Lin Bo and his friends suspected nothing. They did not notice when a man in a black robe patterned with red appeared in the middle of the livestock yard. Covering his nose with a handkerchief, he cast a contemptuous look around, then began to circle the area like a raven scouting for prey, carefully choosing where to place his feet.

  At last, his attention settled on an old shed behind the pigpens. A solitary, crooked structure stood amid weeds and wild growth, partly overgrown with vines and leaves, nearly blending into its surroundings. Wrinkling his nose in disgust, the young man decided to inspect it anyway.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  The loosely shut door creaked as he stepped inside and immediately ran into cobwebs. The smell of rotting wood and damp leaves struck his face. Dust from the door settled onto his clothes.

  “Disgusting. Filth,” he cursed.

  He wanted to leave at once but feared disobeying Ying Hua’s order to check the source of the rumors. With great reluctance, he took several steps across the wooden floor and looked around.

  Before the window lay a meditation mat. On the wall hung a bright red strip of cloth with the character Sword written upon it. Nearby stood clubs and training staves, as though someone had deliberately arranged a carefully arranged practice corner. The scene drew the eye, there was even a mortar, dried herbs, and animal bones.

  On the opposite side, in a dark corner, cobwebs clung thickly. Old baskets lay heaped together as if tangled into one mass. Even the dried corpse of a rat had stuck fast to the floor. The stench made it unbearable to linger, even to breathe. Holding the cloth to his nose, the young man’s reddish-tinged eyes returned to the character “Sword.”

  “Country bumpkins. Filthy swine,” he snorted contemptuously. “Too lazy to even tidy up. They’re ready to live in a sty among rats. Fit only for slaughter.”

  He strode out quickly, eager to escape before the stench seeped into his robes. Even the Qi here felt dirty and earthbound. Though he had participated in bloody rituals and found them rather engaging, the smell of manure and livestock filled him only with disgust. Recently, sows had farrowed in the sty, chicks had hatched, new life had appeared, disrupting the aura of endless death that once ruled the mountain. The disciples of the Blood Cloud avoided lingering near the livestock yard.

  “When will the master return to the sect? I’m sick of wandering through the forest among these animals,” the young man muttered as he approached the large guest pavilion where the sect’s disciples resided.

  “The master is waiting,” said a man at the entrance in a cold voice.

  His face was entirely concealed by black cloth hanging from a woven hat, not a thin veil, but dense, coarse fabric, as though sight were unnecessary for him to see. In the very center of the cloth was embroidered the character Guardian of the Blood Cloud. A broad saber hung at his waist, more like a butcher’s cleaver than a warrior’s blade.

  Avoiding the guardian’s gaze, the young man hurried toward Ying Hua’s chamber. Inside, the senior disciple sat in deep meditation, a blood-red crystal resting before him. Hesitating at the doorway, the young man stepped in and waited a long while until he heard a long, heavy exhale.

  “Ahem, Master, I’ve checked everything. There’s nothing there, just stench and filth,” the junior disciple reported. “They’re animals fit only for sacrifice. No spirits. The aura of death gathers before the chieftain’s pavilion, on the square, and in the pen with the two-legged sheep. There it forms a dense cloud. There’s nothing at the livestock yard. The peasants imagined things.”

  “If the rumors haven’t died down in a couple of days, go again,” Ying Hua said with a faint smile, eyes still closed, as if savoring an aftertaste. “There’s no smoke without fire.”

  “You think the escaped spirit beast is there?” the young man raised his brows in surprise. “We shouldn’t have left it here. Of course it ran off from these peasants.”

  “No. The beast is already far away. It certainly won’t return here. But check again anyway.”

  “Master, have mercy,” the young man complained. “To breathe that filth again…”

  “Hm.” Ying Hua opened his red eyes slightly and looked at him. The young man fell silent at once, drawing his head into his shoulders.

  “Yes, Master. I’ll go again in a couple of days…”

  “Take the guardian with you, just in case. His senses are sharper. Rest for now.”