Chapter 47: The Drowned Ghost

Very soon, the identities of the two female students I had targeted were uncovered.

The stylishly dressed girl with brown-dyed hair was named Jiang Liqing, daughter of Jiang Hongbing, a wealthy businessman in Linjiang. Her personality was bold and rebellious, and she had stirred up quite a few incidents at Linjiang Medical College.

The other, a petite girl named Mi Ke’er, had lost her father early in life. Her mother was chronically ill and unable to do heavy labor, so she could only take odd jobs to sustain their livelihood. Mi Ke’er was determined, not only receiving a full scholarship from the medical college, but also working as a tutor and student worker—she took on any job that could help support her family.

At first glance, two girls from such starkly different backgrounds seemed unlikely to have any connection. Investigation confirmed they had no direct interaction. However, when the inquiry extended into their respective circles, one person overlapped between them: Ye Wen, who had drowned in the Early Spring River.

Ye Wen and Jiang Liqing belonged to the same club—a small, peculiar group with only a dozen members called Night of Terror. They were quite familiar with each other. More importantly, Liu Juan, Liu Zhenhui, and Liao Zhigao were all members, and Ye Wen and Liu Juan were close friends.

As for Ye Wen’s connection to Mi Ke’er, nobody knew exactly how they met, but the two often saw each other and seemed to get along well.

Jiang Liqing wandered disconsolately along a campus path, her delicate face pale, hands clenching and relaxing repeatedly. At that moment, someone collided with her unexpectedly, nearly causing her to fall. Normally, she would have cursed loudly, but today she didn’t even look back, simply continuing forward.

I turned to watch her retreating figure, a slight smile curling my lips. I was the one who had bumped into her, and in that instant, I slipped a folded talisman onto her. The talisman contained a small formation linked to my compass; should anything happen to Jiang Liqing, I would sense it immediately.

I had a premonition: she would be the next person haunted by the ghost.

...

Jiang Liqing’s home was Villa No. 5 in River Bay Imperial Residence, Jiangnan New District, Linjiang. It was the weekend, so she had returned home. Her parents were absent, leaving only two housekeepers to manage things.

I sat in my car, smoking and scrolling through the Ninth Bureau’s app on my phone. I found the forum surprisingly instructive—many seasoned members shared valuable insights, and as a rookie, I was thoroughly absorbed.

Inside, Jiang Liqing sat at the dining table, absentmindedly picking at her food with chopsticks.

“Miss, is the food not to your liking?” The housekeeper responsible for meals asked nervously.

Jiang Liqing forced a smile. “No, I just don’t have an appetite.”

She stood up and accidentally knocked over a bowl of condiments, spilling red sauce onto her clothes. The housekeeper hurried to help clean up, but Jiang Liqing pushed her away, taking off the garment. “Throw it out for me.”

“Miss, it’s such a nice piece—it would be a shame to discard it. We have special stain remover at home; it’ll come out,” the housekeeper protested.

“If you want it, it’s yours,” Jiang Liqing replied, heading upstairs.

The housekeeper was delighted. The garment was worth at least ten thousand yuan and barely worn—once cleaned, she could give it to her daughter, who would be thrilled.

After tidying up, she took the clothing to the laundry, soaking it in a basin and adding powerful stain remover. Inside the garment, the talisman was completely drenched. Water alone wouldn’t harm it, but the stain remover washed away the lines of the inscription.

***

Night deepened, and Jiang Liqing fell into a heavy sleep on her princess-like bed.

Drip.

From a corner of the room, a water droplet fell onto the floor, faint chills beginning to spread.

Jiang Liqing shrank under the covers, clutching the blanket tightly.

Chilled water droplets continued to gather, trickling down the walls. Suddenly, a wet footprint appeared on the floor, heading toward Jiang Liqing’s bed.

As it reached her side, a faint, dark shadow materialized.

In her dream, Jiang Liqing suddenly felt she couldn’t breathe, as if a thousand-pound weight pressed upon her. “Help…” she screamed mentally, but her mouth felt foreign, unable to open.

She struggled desperately, but not even a finger could move; her eyelids refused to lift.

She felt a hand tightening around her throat, squeezing ever harder.

Just as she thought she would suffocate, her hand abruptly regained movement. She grabbed something nearby and flailed wildly.

Suddenly, the suffocating force vanished. She gasped, opening her eyes wide, her chest heaving.

Turning on the light, she exhaled deeply. It was only a dream—but the sensation had been terrifyingly real.

Looking down, she saw she was clutching a Buddha doll from the bedside—a gift from the renowned Tranquil Heart Monastery in Linjiang, said to be blessed by the abbess, Master Jingyue.

Hugging the doll for a while, Jiang Liqing realized her pajamas were soaked with sweat, sticky and strange-smelling.

She set the doll aside and headed to the bathroom.

Steam rose as hot water washed over her, warmth flooding her body. Suddenly, she sensed someone nearby, spun around, pulled back the shower curtain, but saw nothing.

She resumed rinsing, noticing she hadn’t worn a shower cap, so she wet and washed all her hair.

The bathroom light flickered unsteadily.

Outside the curtain, a shadow was cast—a grimy hand reached for her, covered in mud, seemingly able to stretch endlessly, moving toward Jiang Liqing as she bent to wash her hair.

Just then, she flipped her hair back, letting water cascade over her face.

The dirty hand grabbed a strand of her hair; she felt a tug and turned to look.

In that instant, her long hair twisted around her neck, and an immense force lifted her off the ground.

Her hair wound around the showerhead bracket, suspending her.

Jiang Liqing struggled in vain.

Her consciousness grew hazy, her soul pressed out of her body.

She glimpsed the shadow’s face—a woman’s visage, swollen from soaking in mud, eyes bloodshot, grinning wickedly.

“Ye Wen…” Jiang Liqing’s awareness faded into darkness.

Downstairs in the Jiang villa, I put out my cigarette, set aside my phone, and glanced at the compass on the passenger seat.

***

The talisman placed on Jiang Liqing had shown no reaction—seemed tonight would be wasted.

But then, I looked up at the villa, sensing something was amiss. The aura around the house was unusually gloomy.

I picked up my compass and aimed it at the villa.

Soon, the pointer began to tremble violently.

“A collision of evil! Damn!” I jumped out of the car, circled to the back, and saw the bathroom window’s light flickering.

With a low shout, I sprinted and scaled the drainage pipe, smashing through the window to burst inside.

I entered to find Jiang Liqing suspended by her own hair from the fixture, completely naked, her yang energy dangerously weak.

Beside her stood the drowned ghost, radiating resentment.

“Courting death!” I shouted, blood-fiend blade flashing a misty red glow, slashing at the ghost.

It screeched, unafraid, stretching its infinitely long arm toward me.

Swish.

My blade severed its hand, and its ghostly form grew much thinner.

“Heaven and earth have their limits—yang destroys the spirit.” I formed a seal with my left hand, channeling power into the blade, unleashing a series of strikes that enveloped the ghost completely.

It howled, a faint blue radiance emerging from its form. My blade’s killing aura struck, but was blocked.

Suddenly, the ghost lunged, grabbing for my throat.

“Little python, get out here and help!” I called.

At that moment, the Eye of the Nether Dragon on my chest burned; the serpent’s soul shot out, merging with my blade.

Instantly, a devouring force rose from the blade, consuming the blue glow on the ghost, and my blade’s killing aura pierced its form.

“Aaargh…” The ghost screamed, its body weakening, on the verge of dissipating. It plunged into the water and vanished.

I slashed Jiang Liqing’s hair, thumped her chest twice to force air into her lungs. She coughed violently.

I had no time for her, leaped out the window, compass in hand, and began tracking the drowned ghost.

This ghost was special—wherever water existed, it could hide. Moreover, the blue light on it was familiar, similar to the blue runes appearing in recent cases.

Yet the Ninth Bureau seemed to be concealing something—both the water tank corpse case and the Fu Yiman case omitted descriptions of these blue runes.

I recalled the Yin Spirit Valley’s Eight Trigram Array, the fissure, and the terrifying aura within.

There must be some secret here. If Old Fox Zhou won’t talk, I’ll see if I can dig something out of this drowned ghost.

Thinking, I followed the trail.

Not far from River Bay Imperial Residence lay a flower garden, beside which ran a small stream.

Suddenly, the water began to churn, and a dark shadow crawled out.

Nearby, a dozen incense sticks of varying sizes and colors were planted in the ground, their smoke swirling and forming a strange pattern in the air.

A petite girl sat cross-legged, wearing an oversized colorful ritual robe, hands forming mysterious seals, eyes closed.

Suddenly, she opened her eyes, spat a mouthful of blood, and her face turned deathly pale.