Tang Quan didn't understand my earlier remark about the demon hunter, but seeing both fire doors were blocked, he clenched the beads in his hand and grimly said, "Forget about being set up for now—let's kill those four old Jiangshi first!"
I didn't rush to explain to him. By now, the old Jiangshi upstairs had come down, and a faint stench of decay filled the air.
Even if we managed to destroy the old Jiangshi, not only would we be fulfilling Zhan Ling's wish, but the presence upstairs would also become a huge problem. While we could likely defeat the physical Jiangshi, we might not fare as well against the elusive, invisible ghosts.
After a brief moment of hesitation, I quickly called to Tang Quan to retreat to the 15th floor.
We were in the stairwell, and if the four old Jiangshi cornered us there, it would be tough to maneuver and we would lose the advantage.
Back on the 15th floor, I spotted a broken ceramic tile on the ground. I picked it up, intending to throw it outside. But then I reconsidered—the building was full of demon hunters besides Zhan Ling. These hunters had their own methods, often underhanded, and my second uncle wasn't infused with Dao energy, which meant he'd be in big trouble if they crossed his path.
A second or two of hesitation, and the Jiangshi were already hopping down the hallway towards us.
They had trapped us in a pincer move.
As soon as Tang Quan saw the Jiangshi appear, he stamped his foot fiercely, unleashing a wave of yang energy. He quickly pulled the peach wood sword to his chest, not even speaking to me, and charged towards the Jiangshi on the right, moving with the grace of a swordsman.
Huang Jiu, perched on my shoulder, grew a whole head taller as he stared at Tang Quan and remarked, "Damn, whose subordinate is this? Is he really this strong?"
I was dumbfounded, but I understood one thing clearly—since the way downstairs was blocked, my only chance of survival was to stick with Tang Quan.
After a brief pause, I pulled out my own peach wood sword, gritted my teeth, and followed him.
As we rushed forward, two more old Jiangshi jumped out from a corner, and the heavy stench of decay rushed towards us, mingling with a faint metallic scent of blood. My suspicion was correct—all of them had drained the blood of the living.
Just as I was gearing up for a fierce battle, Tang Quan suddenly veered off course, darting into an office building like a supporting role in a play, sidestepping the confrontation.
I was instantly alarmed. Thankfully, the Jiangshi were still seven or eight meters behind me, so I quickly followed him into the building. We dashed through several doors, and I found Tang Quan leaning against a wall, panting.
Before I could ask, he quickly explained, "Sorry, kid, it just occurred to me that it's morning and the sun isn't coming through here. I can't use my Bagua mirror without sunlight."
My face darkened, but he wasn't wrong. We were on the west side of the building, and the morning sun couldn't reach us.
The Bagua mirror was supposed to reflect sunlight and moonlight, which could harm Jiangshi and other evil spirits.
But for someone over fifty like Tang Quan to make such a rookie mistake? I didn't believe it, but I had no choice.
Tang Quan looked utterly innocent, full of regret.
I gritted my teeth. "You've gone and made a big joke of it!"
If I had been a second slower earlier, we would've ended up face-to-face with the Jiangshi—life and death hanging in the balance.
Tang Quan gave a guilty smile.
I didn't press further, but I was the type to hold grudges. Huang Jiu knew this all too well.
Outside, the Jiangshi had already tracked us down and were hopping inside. Without saying a word, I quickly turned around and darted down several hallways.
Whether he was a useless teammate or acting intentionally, staying away from Tang Quan was just safer for me.
This building had both commercial and residential areas, so I made my way through a few office rooms and eventually lost Tang Quan. I slipped into one of the apartments and gently closed the door behind me, holding my breath.
Aside from tormenting my eyes, my grandfather had also taught me the Turtle Breathing Technique. I could hold my breath for up to half an hour with no problem.
Without my breathing, the Jiangshi would be unable to detect my presence and would head straight for Tang Quan. I'd let him deal with them for a while.
I chuckled softly, not bothering to assess the room. Instead, I peeked through the dusty peephole to observe outside.
Huang Jiu sat on my shoulder, tugging at my hair.
I muttered, "Tang Quan didn't follow, and the Jiangshi aren't here yet."
But even as I spoke, Huang Jiu kept tugging at my hair.
I couldn't talk much longer, as that would give away my position.
The pulling got harder, and it began to hurt my scalp. I turned to reprimand Huang Jiu, but when I did, my toes shot up in surprise, and my body pressed against the door.
The room was a one-bedroom apartment, small with a rocking chair by the window. A frail old woman in a burial outfit was sitting in the chair, rocking back and forth with a creaking sound.
Half of her body was in shadow, creating an eerie atmosphere.
I cursed myself inwardly. I had been so focused on escaping Tang Quan that I'd forgotten this was a haunted building.
Fortunately, the old woman didn't spring up to attack. She continued to rock slowly in her chair, enjoying her posthumous retirement.
Just then, I heard pounding footsteps outside—the Jiangshi had caught up.
I dared not make a sound, standing still in the corner of the room behind the door. I had positioned myself in such a way that if the old woman attacked or the Jiangshi broke in, I'd be right next to the exit.
As the Jiangshi passed by, the suffocating stench of their corpse energy seeped into the room. I quickly took out two talismans and slapped them on the door to block the malevolent energy.
When the footsteps faded, I breathed a sigh of relief. Not long after, I heard Tang Quan's curses outside, in Cantonese, which I couldn't understand.
At that moment, the old woman slowly turned her head. Half of her face had been burned black, her gums and exposed white teeth gleaming ominously.
I held my breath, tightly gripping my blood spike.
Just when I thought she was about to attack, she spoke in a voice full of distress and desperation. "Young man, have you seen my granddaughter?"
"She's called Mengmeng, a very cute little girl!"
As she spoke, she extended her burned hand and gestured with it, "She's this tall!"
Before the old woman could finish, an eerie giggle echoed from the ceiling. I looked up and immediately froze in terror.
Hanging from the chandelier was a mass of blackened flesh, and it took me a moment to recognize that it was the burnt body of a young girl, her face contorted in agony.
Looking closer, I saw the girl's mouth open as if she wanted to speak, but just like the old woman, her tongue had been removed.
Realizing she couldn't speak, the little girl gave me a frantic "don't say a word" gesture with her eyes.
Despite holding my breath, my heart was racing wildly. I gave the little girl a faint smile, signaling that I wouldn't speak.
The girl seemed relieved and cheerfully began crawling around the ceiling.
I finally understood: this was a pair of grandparents who perished in a fire long ago. The old woman, suffering from dementia, became a ghost and remained in her state of confusion—this was likely why her tongue hadn't been removed.