Chapter 48: The Well Trap

Li Zhuiyuan sat down on the ground, gently kneading his temples.

It was his first time controlling a Dead Sinker, and he felt exhausted. He needed to relax quickly, because he still had a lot to do.

If nothing went wrong, he was about to experience his greatest overexertion yet.

This kind of overexertion would very likely cause serious damage to his body.

He knew this clearly, but he still chose to go through with it.

Because he was angry.

An emotion that, to him, was very precious.

At that moment, the girl and the woman both knelt before him.

Seeing this, Li Zhuiyuan waved his hand, but it had no effect.

He had already released his control over them. By rights, they should now be standing still—or one should return to the rice jar and the other to the bed.

Li Zhuiyuan stood up helplessly, and the mother and daughter also stood.

He walked to the table and sat back in his original seat.

The girl and the woman got up and followed, sitting down to his right.

Originally, Tan Wenbin had been asleep there.

Now he was firmly wedged between them.

Li Zhuiyuan couldn’t be bothered to rearrange them. At least this way, he could ensure the sleeping Binbin wouldn’t fall over.

However, as soon as they sat down, the expressions and movements on their faces began to subtly distort. It seemed to signal a looming loss of control.

Li Zhuiyuan didn’t fully understand the mechanics, but he had an idea how to respond:

“Don’t worry, I’ll do what I promised you.

For now, just endure a little longer. Zhou Yong was just a knife someone else used. You don’t want to let the real culprit who caused your suffering go unpunished, do you?”

Hearing this, the girl and the woman quieted down again.

“Runsheng-ge, wrap up Zhou Yong first. Call me when you’re done. I’m going to rest a bit.”

“Got it, don’t worry, Xiaoyuan.”

At the moment, Zhou Yong was pinned in a corner by Runsheng. The Yellow River Spade was locked at his neck, physically restraining him.

He was already very weak—though still trying to push away the spade with his hands, he had no strength left to resist.

Runsheng walked over to the burlap sack and took out the Soul-returning Basket and the Homecoming Net, laying them on the ground.

He pulled out his box of red ink paste. After pressing each of his ten fingers into it, he performed a series of precise hand gestures and sequentially touched parts of the Homecoming Net. Finally, he clutched the net cords with interlaced fingers and clapped his hands together. This way, the red marks were evenly and symmetrically applied across the net, ensuring its efficacy.

The whole process was smooth, ritualistic, and visually striking—though not very practical.

After all, not every Dead Sinker would stand still long enough for you to get your tools ready.

Of course, Runsheng wished he could be like Xiaoyuan—just a swipe of red paste on the fingertip and a casual smear would consecrate the tool.

He’d tried it, but failed. Xiaoyuan’s ease came from calculations. He knew exactly where to smear and how much to use. He’d even taught Runsheng, but Runsheng couldn’t keep up with the math.

After finishing preparations on the Soul-returning Basket and the Homecoming Net, Runsheng placed the basket over Zhou Yong’s head and pulled it down, enveloping him completely. Then he wrapped him up with the Homecoming Net, bundling Zhou Yong up like a rice dumpling.

Lastly, he took out a yellow talisman Xiaoyuan had drawn and stuck it on Zhou Yong’s forehead.

Each talisman changed color as soon as it was applied. He peeled it off and stuck on another—seven times in total—before stopping, thus completing the final step of the ritual.

Even Zhou Yong’s murky eyes seemed to reveal a hint of confusion and bewilderment at this.

Li Zhuiyuan had told Runsheng that the talismans he drew were useless, but Runsheng didn’t believe him. He thought Xiaoyuan was just being modest.

After bundling everything up, Runsheng turned around and hoisted Zhou Yong onto his back like a corpse carrier.

Just then, Tan Wenbin woke up.

He felt utterly drained, like his body had been hollowed out.

Groggily, he raised his head and opened his eyes. He looked at the girl pressed against his left side, then turned to look at the woman on his right.

He thought he was still dreaming and lay back down.

Soon after, he opened his eyes again, glanced left and right, swallowed hard—

Then sat up abruptly, about to scream, only for Runsheng to clamp a hand over his mouth.

“Mmmph mmmph…”

“Shh.”

Tan Wenbin nodded.

Runsheng removed his hand.

Tan Wenbin turned his head just in time to see Runsheng leaning over to nudge Li Zhuiyuan, with Zhou Yong’s bundled face practically touching his own.

Li Zhuiyuan woke up, saw that Runsheng was ready, and stood up. Still, he asked with concern:

“Binbin-ge, are you okay?”

“I… What happened to me? Oh, I’m fine, just a little tired.”

“Go sleep at Grandpa Shan’s place.”

“No, I’m good. I can still help.” Tan Wenbin wobbled to his feet and finally broke free from the sandwich. He bent over, panting heavily.

“Binbin-ge, eat better for a while. You need to build yourself back up.”

“Yeah, I will. I didn’t realize how weak I’d gotten.”

“Runsheng-ge, let’s go.”

The three of them left the house and walked down the little dam.

Inside, the sound of the door being locked echoed out, then the lights were switched off. Under the moonlight, shadows flitted through the kitchen and bedroom.

Now that Zhou Yong had left the house’s range, the girl and the woman could only return to their previous places, waiting for his return.

This was the life Zhou Yong had tried to maintain.

Li Zhuiyuan looked back at the well atop the dam.

“Runsheng-ge, stay here.”

“Okay.”

“Binbin-ge, do you still have strength left?”

Tan Wenbin nodded hard. “Still got it.”

“Thank you.”

“Xiaoyuan-ge, it’s nothing. Trust me.”

Li Zhuiyuan and Tan Wenbin climbed back onto the dam. Since Runsheng and Zhou Yong remained outside, the girl and the woman inside weren’t drawn into activity again.

Lifting the straw hat off the well cover and grabbing the rope attached to the bucket, Li Zhuiyuan tied it around himself and tossed the other end to Tan Wenbin.

“Hold on tight.”

“Got it.” For safety, Tan Wenbin looped the rope around his body twice and gave a thumbs-up.

Li Zhuiyuan held a flashlight in his left hand and a smaller Yellow River Spade in his right, and descended into the well, lowering himself bit by bit until he stopped half a meter above the water.

At the well’s edge, Tan Wenbin lay across the mouth, using his body as a wedge since his arms were too weak to help.

By flashlight, Li Zhuiyuan saw carvings etched into the well walls.

Below him, something stirred in the water. Shining the light downward, he saw a thick water snake swimming below the surface.

He wasn’t worried—it was trapped underwater and couldn’t breach the surface.

Gripping the spade, Li Zhuiyuan began altering the engravings.

It was cold in the well, but he soon broke out in sweat.

Modifying someone else’s engravings was far harder than setting up his own. The calculation load was much heavier.

But he had no choice. He didn’t have time, nor the materials needed to lay a fresh array.

More importantly, preserving the opponent’s setup made it easier to turn it against them.

An hour later, Li Zhuiyuan tugged the rope.

Above, though sore and numb from using his body as a wedge, Tan Wenbin mustered strength to slowly haul him up.

As he rose, Li Zhuiyuan looked down at the water below.

The snake was still there, but no longer as lively. In the flashlight’s beam, its body shimmered with vibrant, multicolored hues beneath the surface.

Li Zhuiyuan smiled. That’s more like it. That Mirror Water Moon illusion stuff? Too low-level.

Back aboveground, he breathed in fresh air, wiped the sweat from his face, and felt a sticky sensation on the back of his hand. The flashlight beam revealed it was red.

“Xiaoyuan, your nose is bleeding,” said Tan Wenbin, rummaging for tissues.

“Yeah.” Li Zhuiyuan tilted his head back, stuffed a tissue wad up his nose, and untied the rope.

“Xiaoyuan, you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. This is nothing.”

After carefully checking the ground for any blood stains, he replaced the straw hat over the well and restored everything.

They walked down the dam, and Li Zhuiyuan signaled to Runsheng that they could move on.

By the small river, Li Zhuiyuan walked in front with the Bagua Compass in hand, muttering the Liu Clan’s Art of Observing Qi while pointing out where Runsheng needed to dig or raise the ground.

When they reached the bridge, Li Zhuiyuan collapsed to the ground and asked, head tilted back:

“Runsheng-ge, did you remember all that?”

“Don’t worry, Xiaoyuan, I got it.”

“Then get to work.”

“Okay!”

Runsheng set Zhou Yong down and began digging and laying ground with the Yellow River Spade.

“Xiaoyuan-ge, should I help?”

“No need, Binbin-ge. Stay here and help me with this nosebleed—it’s not stopping.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Runsheng was strong, and the spade was perfect for this kind of work. He could do it faster and with fewer mistakes on his own.

Meanwhile, Tan Wenbin finally managed to stop Xiaoyuan’s nosebleed and asked with concern:

“Xiaoyuan, are you really okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“So what exactly are we doing here?”

“Someone set us up—nearly got us all killed. I’m setting up a counterattack.”

“Okay. Got it.”

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