Chapter 77.4: The Spirit by the Lake

Two muffled thuds echoed.

Tan Wenbin’s arms went numb from the recoil, nearly cramping.

Yin Meng, after striking once with the spade, leapt in place, landing a flurry of kicks at the same spot. It was a textbook Dead Sinker takedown technique.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

A mass of sludge appeared where nothing had been visible. Filthy muck splattered, revealing a body inside. From its waist, black blood distinct from the sludge was gushing out.

Yin Meng raised the spade again, slashing diagonally at the wound.

The dispersed sludge suddenly recoiled, slamming into Yin Meng.

Bang!

She lost her balance and was flung toward the sludge.

But just before impact, she planted a hand on the floor, braced her waist, and pivoted on her arm, hurling herself back up. Both feet slammed down again on the mass of muck.

The sludge burst apart once more, and the body’s face emerged—or rather, its lack of one. The head was intact, but the face was like a rotted cavity, sunken and hollowed out.

The only reason they could tell it was female was because of the long, straight black hair.

The figure burst from the muck and lunged toward Yin Meng.

She was just about to raise her spade in defense—

Li Zhuiyuan’s eyes snapped open.

A voiceless shriek rang through the entire dance studio. Yin Meng and Tan Wenbin felt their eardrums tearing from the pain.

The faceless woman instantly turned course and lunged toward Li Zhuiyuan instead.

She sensed a terrifying threat—this boy was trying to control her!

Tan Wenbin, who’d stayed close to Little Yuan the whole time, now rushed forward to shield him, swinging the Yellow River Spade with all his strength.

Bam!

The blow landed squarely on the faceless woman’s head. But the force sent Tan Wenbin flying—and he took Li Zhuiyuan down with him.

Crap, I knocked Little Yuan over!

Blood trickled from Tan Wenbin’s nose and mouth. Still, he gritted his teeth and crawled toward his fallen spade.

But then a hand grasped his arm and used it for leverage to rise.

It was Li Zhuiyuan. He glared at the enemy.

At this range, every second could mean life or death. Tools meant little now—this wasn’t a planned ambush, just a sudden clash.

That’s why Yin Meng and Tan Wenbin had only managed to grab their Yellow River Spades. But Li Zhuiyuan—he had gone straight to the method from Wei Zhengdao’s Black Book on how to control Dead Sinkers.

The boy’s palm snapped shut.

Buzz!

The faceless woman froze.

Yin Meng and Tan Wenbin both exhaled in relief. It worked!

But that relief lasted mere seconds. From deep within the hollow of the faceless woman’s sunken visage, two red eyes lit up.

Li Zhuiyuan’s expression changed—Damn it. She was already under someone’s control!

Blood began seeping from the corners of his eyes, but he kept them wide open, enduring the mental chaos and pull of his Walk-the-Shade state.

The faceless woman trembled violently. Black mist gushed from her body. Her frame looked like it was about to collapse.

Yin Meng and Tan Wenbin exchanged a look—one pulled out a Homecoming Net, the other unfurled the Seven-Star Hook.

But at that moment, sensing she might be permanently trapped, the faceless woman began to swell.

Boom!

A black fog burst outward, blinding them.

The faceless woman retreated rapidly, smashing through the second-floor window and vanishing.

Li Zhuiyuan lowered his head and slowly crouched down, pressing both hands over his eyes.

It hurts so much…

Shock overwhelmed him.

Back in Shigang Town, they’d faced a Dead Sinker linked to a Changeling—but even then, Runsheng had taken care of those thug-possessed creatures alone.

But if this faceless woman was a Changeling, what kind of monster had to be controlling her?

Why… would something of this level be lurking inside the school?

“Little Yuan, are you okay?” Tan Wenbin asked with concern.

Yin Meng crouched beside him.

Runsheng was still pinned to the wall—but no one moved to check on him yet.

Not out of coldness, but because they feared that thing might come back and strike again—especially at Little Yuan.

Li Zhuiyuan shook his head. “Go check on Runsheng. That thing’s falling apart. It won’t come back.”

“Alright.”

Yin Meng ran toward Runsheng.

He was clutching the steel rod that had impaled his shoulder, gasping from the pain.

His pale face showed he had expended nearly all his strength in the earlier fight.

In truth, the only reason Li Zhuiyuan had almost succeeded in controlling the Dead Sinker was because Runsheng had already severely injured it beforehand.

“What now?” Yin Meng asked.

“Support me… get me out.”

“You sure?”

“Yes… not a vital spot.”

Tan Wenbin joined her, and the two of them lifted Runsheng on either side. He used his free hand to grip the steel rod and began inching forward.

It was like being impaled all over again.

At last, freed from the rod, Runsheng collapsed to his knees and gasped for air.

Luckily, the wound hadn’t hit anything vital. Just a bit more to the side, and it would’ve been fatal.

This was the worst shape Runsheng had ever been in.

But from another angle, only Runsheng could’ve survived that fight. If it had been Yin Meng or Tan Wenbin, they would’ve died for sure.

Li Zhuiyuan approached. Though he had wiped his face, dried blood still clung to the corners of his eyes.

Runsheng saw the boy’s shoes, then forced his head up, meeting the boy’s gaze.

“Little Yuan… I… messed up…”

Even the fiercest beasts grow dull when they live in comfort for too long. Their edge softens. Their instincts dull.

No one can always make the right choice every time. Even the sharpest blade needs to be whetted now and then.

Li Zhuiyuan’s eyes filled with concern.

“Runsheng, are you alright?”

Runsheng nodded. “I’m fine… Just a scratch.”

Li Zhuiyuan knew he wasn’t bluffing. Runsheng had always recovered quickly—as long as it wasn’t a fatal wound.

“Binbin, take Runsheng to the university clinic. Say he tripped onto a steel rod during renovations.”

“Got it.”

Unlike the old high school infirmary that only stocked flu meds, the university clinic was practically a small hospital. Even at night, there were doctors on duty.

Tan Wenbin’s biceps finally came in handy—most people couldn’t carry someone Runsheng’s size.

Yin Meng had wanted to go too, but since Little Yuan hadn’t said her name, she stayed.

The two returned downstairs. With the creature gone, the lights in the shop were back to normal.

Outside, rain still fell, but the curtain of water at the door was gone.

Li Zhuiyuan walked to the counter.

He noticed a slight twitch at the base of Aunt Sun’s ear. Barely perceptible—but not to a skilled physiognomist.

Her earlier unconsciousness had been real. But now—this sleep was fake.

He knew something was off with her. Not because of their interactions over the past few days—those had been normal.

It all traced back to the moment they arrived and found her unconscious.

If she’d been sprawled on the floor, bleeding, or trembling under Runsheng’s protection upstairs—fine.

But instead, she’d been slumped over the counter. Like she was napping during work hours.

That Dead Sinker—why would it go easy on her?

She’d been at the shop all day. If something were going to happen, it would’ve happened already. Why wait until Runsheng returned?

Cold as it sounded, logic pointed toward guilt. Her unharmed state was the biggest red flag.

Especially now—still faking unconsciousness.

She wasn’t the culprit, and probably not the controller. But the faceless Dead Sinker—was definitely tied to her!

Yin Meng, ever the skilled Corpse Retriever, lacked awareness in some other areas. She was about to wake Aunt Sun.

Li Zhuiyuan raised his hand to stop her.

Then, he reached out and took the Yellow River Spade from Yin Meng. She released it at once.

Li Zhuiyuan raised the spade—and brought it crashing down on the counter!

Smash!

“Aaah!”

Glass shattered. Aunt Sun screamed, tumbled to the floor, hands braced on the ground—only to be stabbed by shards. She gasped in pain.

Yin Meng’s eyes flared with anger. She finally realized the woman had been faking it. Thinking of how Runsheng had stayed behind because of her, Yin Meng clenched her fists.

Aunt Sun looked first at Yin Meng—then at the boy now stepping toward her, spade in hand.

His shoes crunched over the broken glass.

His face, though, wore a warm, polite smile—just like he always had these past few days.

Li Zhuiyuan knelt before her, leaning on the Yellow River Spade.

Then, in the gentlest tone, he asked the coldest question:

“The truth… or be buried alive?”

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