Xue Tong usually hammered ghosts with that exact force and saw no issue with it. But Xun Ruosu’s mortal body was fragile, and she was naturally sensitive to pain, so she quickly shuffled back a couple of steps, afraid of sustaining internal injuries from Xue Tong’s blows.
Once the Wooden Doll saw that Xun Ruosu could move, it unfurled its slender limbs and clambered onto her. It eagerly tugged her toward the Infant Spirit lying on the ground. Though Xue Tong stood right there as an even better option, it completely ignored her, not daring to get anywhere near this human killing star.
For some reason, the Infant Spirit in the cage lay flat on the ground, utterly motionless. He was already so emaciated that his bones were wrapped in just a thin layer of skin. The uneven brick floor of the shack made him look almost like a sheet of thin paper pressed against it.
Xun Ruosu asked, “What’s wrong with him?”
She had meant the question for the Wooden Doll, but Xue Tong answered first. “A person’s soul can’t be split into two parts. The portion attached to the sandalwood has been nurtured and grown stronger day by day, but the Infant Spirit trapped in the cage—though a malicious ghost—is injured by my hand and on the verge of his soul scattering entirely.”
That was why the Wooden Doll stayed silent.
It thought to itself, “Wasn’t this Sister Xue supposed to be ruthless and bloodthirsty, killing without a word and jumping straight to physical exorcism? She doesn’t seem that unreasonable now.”
Its ability to see through Xue Tong’s brutal nature so quickly stemmed from its other half—the motionless Infant Spirit on the ground.
“Is there a way to save him?” Xun Ruosu turned her gaze to Xue Tong.
“There is a way, but it wouldn’t matter if his soul scattered. It’s normal wear and tear during exorcism—even if only one soul remains, he could still reincarnate.” Xue Tong pointed her index finger toward the heavens. “The Rules wouldn’t hold it against me.”
“Tell me the method,” Xun Ruosu said, admitting to herself that she was a busybody. “Since we’ve encountered him, we can’t just ignore it. What if he reincarnates into the Zhong Family and becomes my cousin, calling me ‘sister’ in a daze? That wouldn’t look good.”
Xue Tong seemed speechless for a moment. “You do realize how astronomically unlikely that is, right?”
Her beautiful peach-blossom eyes couldn’t help scanning Xun Ruosu up and down again. “I take it back—you’re not lacking in conscience. You have too much of it, which just makes you seem heartless.”
The Wooden Doll sat nearby and wondered, “How does having too much conscience make someone seem heartless?”
Xue Tong continued, “Draw the Infant Spirit’s soul into the Wooden Doll, and I’ll handle the rest. The living soul is still under the bed, right? We’re ignoring it?”
“We’ll deal with it, but it’s not urgent. Without Chen Huaiyue, he’s like a shrimp without its shell—harmless. Besides, that child is watching.” By “that child,” she meant the Wooden Doll, who glared fixedly at the living soul under the bed. Any hint of movement, and it would charge in for a brutal beating.
In that regard, it didn’t take after Chen Huaiyue at all—it seemed to have inherited Xue Tong’s traits.
As she spoke, Xun Ruosu rolled up her sleeve and squatted down beside the Infant Spirit. She pressed one hand onto the yellow paper hovering in midair. The cage, rooted in that yellow paper, trembled along its railings.
“To save you, I’m going to remove the cage. If you show any sign of malice—even just scratching me with a fingernail—I’ll stop immediately and leave you to your fate. Got it?” Xun Ruosu made her terms clear upfront.
The Infant Spirit seemed bound by some Earth Binding Spell, lying flat against the bricks. He laboriously twitched his fingers in acknowledgment.
Xun Ruosu lifted the yellow paper, and the Golden Cage vanished with it. The restraints suppressing the Infant Spirit eased a little. Besides his fingers, he slowly rolled his eyeballs.
Xue Tong leaned against the dressing table with her arms crossed, her gaze flicking over the Infant Spirit on the ground now and then. He was mad and innocent of the world, which made him acutely sensitive to her threat: “Hurt anyone, and I’ll cleave you in two.”
“…” He didn’t even dare roll his eyes anymore.
Guiding a soul into a vessel wasn’t technically difficult, but ensuring not a single wisp was left behind required true cultivation. This Infant Spirit was different from other entities—he was a malicious ghost, notoriously hard to mold or reshape. Having drifted outside for over thirty years, his Three Souls and Seven Po wouldn’t fuse easily. If he were human, he wouldn’t even recognize his own home anymore.
The reason Xue Tong didn’t intervene herself was simple: all malicious ghosts in the world feared her. It was like asking someone with immense strength to handle a delicate block of silken tofu—they might accidentally pulverize it.
Xun Ruosu carried paper talismans with her but no vermilion brush. Fortunately, the wound on her hand from the silk string hadn’t fully clotted; squeezing it produced fresh blood. No need to cut herself again.
This time, her brushstrokes followed an entirely different pattern. Dipping into her own blood, she drew a talisman that even Xue Tong had never seen before.
Xue Tong’s brows furrowed. She had only meant to test Xun Ruosu’s limits. The Xun Family, due to their thin merits and blessings, rarely produced anyone exceptional and were often scorned in the industry. Their line had passed down singly, and over time, other families had lost the precision of the Xun Family’s divination. At best, they hit fifty-fifty now.
Because of that uniqueness, the scorn stayed behind closed doors—out in the open, people still showed a modicum of respect.
The previous yellow talisman had been crude but followed standard forms. This one, however, was utterly strange. Xue Tong couldn’t help asking, “What is that?”
“Something I just invented… a flash of insight from this child.” Even in the midst of her work, Xun Ruosu found time to respond to Xue Tong.
“…” Xue Tong narrowed her eyes even further. If not for knowing her peach-blossom eyes couldn’t squint into slits, she might have tried harder.
“Drawing a talisman” and “creating one” were worlds apart. Even a seven-year-old could draw a talisman, and make it look convincing, but whether it worked depended on fate or bloodline. “Creating” one, however, was the domain of grandmasters. It didn’t come from a mere “flash of insight”—it required years of secluded study, with no guarantees.
Even Xun Ruosu’s great-uncle, the current head of the Zhong Family, wouldn’t claim he could create talismans.
“Quite the bold little girl.” For an instant, Xue Tong seemed spurred to rivalry, but she quickly reined in her killing intent and smiled. “As expected of…”
The Wooden Doll saw Xue Tong’s lips move but missed the final words.
Xun Ruosu slapped one of the talisman papers onto the Infant Spirit’s forehead. Another flew over and stuck to the Wooden Doll’s chest. The emaciated malicious ghost on the ground was gradually drawn in bit by bit. The Wooden Doll couldn’t accommodate the complete Three Souls and Seven Po all at once. Though made of precious sandalwood, it was still mortal wood, and cracks were already forming at the edges.
Moments later, Xue Tong, watching from the side, twirled a strand of her hair around her index finger and tugged gently. A single hair as long as her waist drifted down. She used it to bind the Wooden Doll. The spreading cracks healed under the pull, and as the two sides tugged back and forth, the Infant Spirit on the ground vanished completely.
The Wooden Doll strained to open its eyes wide, finally turning the two “×” marks into two “O”s. It barely resembled a person now.
It first touched its left hand with its right, then hopped onto the dressing table to admire itself from every angle—up, down, front, back. Xun Ruosu was still half-squatting on the ground. “Not even a word of thanks for me?”
Only then did the Wooden Doll remember its manners. It froze for a moment, then parted its mouth. Unaccustomed to this newly formed tongue, it mumbled for a long time before managing four words: first “Thank you,” then “Mama.”
Chen Huaiyue, who had been hanging her head with little reaction, trembled at those two words. Her gaze slowly settled on the Wooden Doll. She stared for a long time, seemingly unable to recall that she even had such a child.
“After entering the Lamp Vessel, all her extraneous memories fade, leaving only the fragments tied to her obsession… Chen Huaiyue doesn’t recognize you anymore.” Xue Tong pinched the “bone” protruding from the Wooden Doll’s back between two fingers. “Come on. I’ll take you for exorcism. Chen Huaiyue will follow soon enough. With good fate, you two might meet again.”
The Wooden Doll was reluctant to go. Picked up by Xue Tong, it twisted its head a full one hundred eighty degrees, tears welling as it called out “Mama,” making Xue Tong feel for a moment like some irredeemable child trafficker.
“…Fate ended means let go,” Xun Ruosu said, fearing the Wooden Doll might twist its own head off. She dabbed a drop of her still-wet blood onto its forehead, then another onto Chen Huaiyue’s palm. “Pick it up again in the next life.”
“Pointless overkill,” Xue Tong scoffed.
She carried the Wooden Doll to the door but paused suddenly. “How do you plan to deal with the one under the bed? He’s a living person—heavy-handed, and it’s tantamount to murder. The Rules punish that severely.”
“You’re worried about me?” Xun Ruosu smiled. “As you said, we in this line of work all exploit loopholes in the Rules. We’re all sharp cookies… My compassion ran out today—five pounds worth, all spent. But I don’t want his blood dirtying my hands either.”
Xue Tong’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “Pity I have business to attend to. Looks like I’ll miss the show.”
“I’ll tell you all about it later.” Xun Ruosu shooed her away. “We’ve delayed too long—dawn’s approaching. In the few hours left, I want to catch some sleep.”
The snow outside had finally stopped falling. Ever since Chen Huaiyue had settled down, even the humid summer breeze managed to seep into the courtyard. But the chill of melting snow lingered, a piercing cold that cut to the bone. When Xue Tong stepped out the door, a gust of baleful wind struck her face, and she casually pulled the door shut behind her.
People from the Xun Family were indeed precious; they needed to be nurtured in a greenhouse.
Xun Ruosu, however, turned her head and peered under the bed.
“Come on out. Or do you expect me to invite you?” she said, shaking the talisman paper in her hand.
Red silk threads still bound the man. Xun Ruosu had not held back—the threads were less bindings than barbs embedded deep in the flesh of his living soul, cinching him tight until he bulged like a puffy Michelin tire.
Because he had no power to fight back, the wooden doll had trampled all over him time and again, leaving him beaten senseless.
Knowing he was no match for her, the man crawled out from under the bed with obvious reluctance. Bound so tightly from head to toe, he couldn’t even stand; he could only lie there on the floor, shooting Xun Ruosu a venomous glare.
“I’m sending you back,” Xun Ruosu said, utterly unfazed by his hateful stare. “But before that, I’ll take two things from you—one from the top and one from the bottom. The top one’s your eyes. As for the bottom… guess. Get it right, and I’ll make it quick. Might not hurt so much.”
The man’s face drained of color. He tried to roll back under the bed, but Xun Ruosu yanked the end of the red silk thread. He slammed hard into Chen Huaiyue’s foot.
Chen Huaiyue had already forgotten who this man was. But the moment she got a clear look at his face, she shuddered involuntarily.
“You ruined this child’s entire life,” Xun Ruosu said with a cold laugh. “Taking just two things from you is far too lenient. Resent me all you like—it won’t help. Your living soul has separated from your body. Even if it returns, it won’t fuse with your original soul. You’ll be crippled and incomplete for the rest of this life, and just as foolish and vacant in the next. You destroyed one lifetime; now you repay it in full.”
“You’ll get your retribution! You’ll get yours too!” The man knew his doom was sealed and could only spit desperate curses. Xun Ruosu had no patience for it. She slapped a sheet of talisman paper over his mouth, and silence fell at once.
