Chapter 31.3: The Vanishing

Now, the only ones truly standing at the edge of the pit were Li Zhuiyuan, Runsheng, and Tan Yunlong.

“Officer Tan, is the corpse sinking further down?”

“Yes, the more we dig, the deeper it goes.”

“Officer Tan, could you have someone move that jar with the taizui in it?”

“That’s important evidence—we have to take it back to the station for analysis.”

“I’m not telling you to throw it out. Just move it outside the house, beyond the threshold.”

“Is it some kind of taboo?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright.” Tan Yunlong immediately ordered a few officers at the perimeter to move the jar outside.

Li Zhuiyuan nodded. With that, the karmic entanglement between himself, Brother Bao, and Zhao Xing was settled. What came next was just balancing the scales.

Officer Tan turned around and saw the boy pull out a crude wooden compass. Tan Yunlong thought even the cheapest toy vendors wouldn’t sell something that ugly—it wouldn’t move off a single stall.

The boy adjusted his stance, stared at the compass, and spun in a slow circle. After steadying himself, he began murmuring a series of numbers.

Tan Yunlong listened closely, expecting some incantation, but all he heard were numbers.

Mental calculations complete, Li Zhuiyuan lowered his head to look into the pit and pointed to Runsheng: “Use the Yellow River Spade here, here, and here... Six slanting pits, each at these spots.”

“Got it!”

Runsheng climbed into the pit with the Yellow River Spade, ignoring the corpse hand entirely as he dug six side holes just as instructed.

Li Zhuiyuan nodded. These six holes were meant to break the miasma and confuse the corpse’s sense of direction—so that when it panicked and tried to flee, it would lose its bearings.

Strange Records of the Jianghu described such corpses as having clam-like abilities, capable of burrowing through soil.

But strictly speaking, these weren’t Dead Sinkers. Wei Zhengdao had made a note: such corpses always had strange circumstances nearby.

Li Zhuiyuan took out an inkpad, pressed his index finger into it, and stamped red marks along each section of the Guide Hook as it extended, until all seven joints were marked. Then he tossed it into the pit.

“Brother Runsheng, place the hook between you and the corpse—cut off its escape!”

“Understood!”

Runsheng caught the hook and, per instruction, plunged it into the space between himself and the hand.

Soon, only the tip of the hook remained visible. Runsheng pressed down and began to rotate it. A crackling sound rose from below.

So far, the corpse hadn’t burrowed further—no contact had been made.

Li Zhuiyuan dipped all five fingers in ink, quickly brushed the Soul-returning Basket and Homecoming Net, then tossed them into the pit.

“Place the basket at the front, the net at the back.”

“Got it!” Runsheng grabbed the tools, then paused, puzzled. “Xiaoyuan, which side’s the front?”

“The palm is facing forward—that’s the front.”

“Got it!”

Runsheng positioned the Soul-returning Basket in front of the palm. The basket looked narrow and shallow at first, but once unlatched, it expanded in both width and depth with surprising resilience.

As for the Homecoming Net, he spread it behind the hand. Its wide mesh even covered the side wall of the pit.

Li Zhuiyuan picked up the Luo Umbrella. “Brother Runsheng, catch me.”

With that, he leapt into the pit. Tan Yunlong didn’t even have time to stop him.

Runsheng caught him steadily. Once grounded, Li Zhuiyuan leaned in close to examine the hand, then pulled a talisman he’d drawn from his pocket.

Preparations were done. Now came a personal test—trying his homemade talisman.

The Chronicle of the Orthodox Demon-Suppressing Arts didn’t detail how to draw talismans, only listed prerequisites like pre-course requirements. Li Zhuiyuan hadn’t met any of them. He had simply copied the style from the book, focused his energy, and drawn one in a single breath.

He didn’t expect much. But still—what if?

At this perfect distance above the palm, he let the talisman go. It drifted slowly down.

Just as it was about to touch the hand, the fingers sprang open and snatched it!

The talisman instantly turned black.

“Xiaoyuan!” Runsheng immediately pulled him behind, alarmed.

Li Zhuiyuan was more exasperated. Not only had the corpse ignored his talisman, it had actively mocked it.

“Brother Runsheng, pry it out.”

“Got it!”

Runsheng gripped the Guide Hook, bent low, and pressed down with all his strength.

The hand began to stir. The soil below cracked rapidly, but instead of sinking, the corpse began thrashing in all directions like a headless fly.

Runsheng pushed harder, veins bulging, feet sinking to ankle depth in the mud.

Li Zhuiyuan silently admired him—corpse retrieval was definitely a physical job.

Just look at Uncle Qin that night, and now at Runsheng. Without a strong body, even the best tools wouldn’t help.

Thankfully, he was still young—time to build up strength.

With one final push, the corpse finally lost stability. A burst of soil and black mist exploded from below.

Li Zhuiyuan immediately raised the Luo Umbrella in front of them. The shaft trembled violently, numbing his hands, but he held firm.

As the mist spread, he pulled out the Three Purities Fan, clicked a hidden switch, and waved it. White incense ash scattered into the air.

For a moment, the scent of scorched coal drifted by.

“It’s out!” Runsheng shouted. “Xiaoyuan, fall back!”

Li Zhuiyuan closed the umbrella and retreated. The ground split open—a pajama-clad corpse was pried loose. Beneath it, the Guide Hook had extended, each joint locking onto the body.

The corpse made no clear movements, yet seemed to slide forward, landing in the Soul-returning Basket. The basket expanded, flipping the corpse into the Homecoming Net, which wrapped it up.

The body stilled.

Li Zhuiyuan exhaled. “Brother Runsheng, was the corpse moving, or were you pulling it with the hook?”

“It didn’t move. But it got really heavy, then really light. Nearly threw me off.”

“Then it wasn’t the corpse moving. This one’s not a Dead Sinker.”

With the body removed, a man-deep pit was revealed. Li Zhuiyuan peered in and saw two skeletal hands sticking out of the wall.

There were two more skeletons down there!

So Uncle Zhou, buried by Brother Bao, wasn’t the first victim of Jiang Dongping’s taizui-feeding murders.

Studying the position and spread of the skeletal hands, Li Zhuiyuan compared with his own.

“Xiaoyuan, why are there bones down there too?”

“Brother Runsheng, this corpse kept sinking because those two were dragging it down.”

“What about now? Will they still move?”

Li Zhuiyuan shook his head. “Not a Dead Sinker—just malevolent spirits. They scatter in sunlight.”

These spirits only stir when unseen—like at night, when people hear rustling from the ceiling, floor, or other rooms.

Sometimes it’s not neighbors or rats, but household spirits.

But the moment you turn on the light, they vanish. If you see them, they’re already gone.

Most just cause mild disturbances. The rare powerful ones might climb onto your chest while you sleep, causing sleep paralysis.

Runsheng sighed. “Three people buried here, and even formed a bond—couldn’t let one go?”

Li Zhuiyuan glanced at the body wrapped in the Homecoming Net.

“I doubt this corpse was the victim.”

“What? Then who?”

“What’s the opposite of a victim?”

“What is it?”

“Brother Runsheng, lift me up—I don’t want to dirty my clothes climbing.”

“Sure thing.”

Runsheng hoisted him up. Tan Yunlong reached down and pulled Li Zhuiyuan out.

“What just happened down there?” Tan asked immediately.

From above, he’d only seen mud fly, his vision blur, and then what looked like a giant rat emerge. Once it cleared, a corpse lay wrapped in the net.

“Whoa!”

At that moment, Runsheng climbed up with one hand holding the corpse-net, the other gripping the slope like it was nothing.

Tan Yunlong’s eyes widened. That strength—hoisting a “grown man” like a chick—was terrifying.

With the corpse hauled up, Runsheng quickly unwrapped it, folded the basket, and jumped back in to retrieve the Yellow River Spade and Guide Hook, bundling them neatly.

This gear was amazing. He decided to farm diligently for Grandpa Sanjiang, save up, and have Xiaoyuan craft a set for him—he’d pass it down as a family heirloom.

Tan Yunlong put on gloves, crouched, and gently brushed the mud from the corpse’s face, revealing a stern expression.

Li Zhuiyuan asked, “Is it Jiang Dongping?”

Tan Yunlong looked up, surprised. “You knew already?”

Li Zhuiyuan shook his head. “No. I just found out. There are two skeletons down there too. Uncle Tan, have your men dig further—it’ll be easy.”

To be so tightly gripped by two victims that they refused to let him escape—only a perpetrator would face that fate.

“I understand. Thank you, Xiaoyuan.”

“Can I get a piece of taizui meat as thanks?”

“What for?”

“You know how curious kids are, Uncle Tan.”

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