Chapter 60: The Soul-Hooking Demon Part 1

Wang Ya heard the sound of roosters crowing and dogs barking, along with some unintelligible local dialect chatter. She felt something was off and woke up. When she opened her eyes, she found herself in an unfamiliar room, lying on a bed with patterned curtains. She wore a loose T-shirt and a pair of small panties. She sat up and saw that the room was extremely simple, with just the bed and a bamboo chair beside it.

She first checked her physical condition and found no issues with blood stagnation, poor qi circulation, or difficulties in channeling energy. She knew she was fine and didn’t worry about the superficial wounds. She changed into the brand-new set of clothes placed by the bedside, slung her small leather bag containing the ancient bronze coins and Ghost Collecting Bell over her shoulder, put on her shoes, and ran her fingers through her messy long hair from sleep.

Wang Cheng’an’s voice came from outside the door: “Yaya, can I come in?” She replied, “Come in!”

Wang Cheng’an entered and immediately said, “Yaya, you look so pretty!”

Wang Ya glanced at the rambling Wang Cheng’an and saw Zhang Qingshui and Huang Qi come in too. Zhang Qingshui stood stunned at the door, staring straight at her. Wang Ya was startled by their gazes. She pressed her long hair back with the hand that had been combing it and asked, “Did I bloom flowers on my body again or something?”

Zhang Qingshui softly uttered two words: “Demoness.” The Wang Ya before her exuded an intensely alluring charm from her bones to her skin pores. Even the most casual movement was utterly captivating.

Zhang Qingshui called Wang Ya a “Demoness,” and Wang Ya didn’t deny it. Even she herself felt more like a demon than a human when she looked in the mirror. But the Laoshan Taoists had allied with Ghost Granny, turning a blind eye to her murdering innocent six- or seven-year-old children. She was the evil demon, while Ghost Granny was the evil ghost. If the Laoshan Taoists wanted to eliminate demons and defend the dao, they should have included Ghost Granny. Even if they wiped her out, Wang Ya wouldn’t have a single complaint. But this differential treatment, this unfairness, made Wang Ya deeply uncomfortable.

If the Righteous Path didn’t act righteously or conduct themselves properly, could they still be called the Righteous Path?

She had lived for twenty years, diligently cultivating daoist arts without slacking for a single day. She performed Soul Delivery on Lost Souls and Ghosts, captured demons to protect the dao. Though she occasionally played minor pranks on those who mocked or bullied her, she had never truly harmed anyone—not even Ghost Granny, who had taken so many innocent lives. She hadn’t gone for the kill in one strike. Yet, in a twist, just because she had obtained the Feng Family Inheritance and gained a body full of Demonic Power and Demonic Aura, she had become an unforgivable villain. The Ghost Family was a crooked, evil sect; she accepted that they came after her for profit and grudge. But she had no grudge against those Laoshan Taoists—without even stating a reason, they attacked her with killing moves. Was this the conduct of the Righteous Path?

Wang Ya walked straight out of the room, went downstairs, and appeared in the courtyard of the farmhouse below.

It was a two-story building tiled with white porcelain bricks. A large tree outside the yard shaded most of the courtyard. Their white off-road vehicle was parked inside. An Old Lady in her seventies fed chickens by the coop in the corner of the yard. A man in his forties, missing one leg, sat in the yard with Old Tang, chatting. When they saw Wang Ya come down, both looked toward her.

Old Tang stood up, stamped his feet a couple times, walked over to Wang Ya, and said, “You’re finally awake! You sure can sleep—a solid three days. Are your wounds better?”

Wang Ya nodded lightly and asked, “Where is this?” Her gaze fell on the man whose right leg was amputated at the thigh. His skin was very dark, and by Wang Ya’s aesthetic standards, his looks could only be described as average at best, leaning ugly. He wore a tank top and baggy knee-length shorts, with a pair of worn-out flip-flops. He sat there with his left leg propped on a stool, holding a bowl of baijiu. His appearance, looks, and demeanor were all unflattering. But Wang Ya knew at a glance that this seemingly idle rural man was no ordinary person. A unique aura enveloped him—thick Evil Qi, mingled with Deathly Aura and Yin Fiend energy.

Old Tang said, “This is a friend’s place! He’s surnamed Wu—just call him Old Wu.”

Old Wu glanced at Wang Ya a few times, then continued sipping his baijiu from the bowl without any intention of greeting her.

When Wang Ya heard Old Tang call him a friend and recalled that she had slept for three days, she realized it must be because of the commotion she caused and her unconscious state that Old Tang had brought them here to hide. Old Wu had taken them in out of respect for Old Tang. She walked up to Old Wu and said, “Hello, I’m Wang Ya.”

Old Wu looked at Wang Ya and nodded lightly.

Wang Ya pulled over the stool Old Tang had sat on earlier and sat down in front of Old Wu. “Old Wu, if you don’t mind, let me dispel the Yin Fiend Curse Resentment in your body for you.”

Old Wu’s hand trembled as he held the wine bowl. He looked at Wang Ya in shock, his mouth agape.

Wang Ya sat just two feet from Old Wu. When he opened his mouth, the breath he exhaled drifted straight into her nose, making her lean back to create some distance. The Deathly Aura on Old Wu was as unconcealable as the Demonic Aura on her—hers at least smelled fragrant, but his Deathly Aura mixed with the baijiu stench from his breath was utterly foul. Though Wang Ya didn’t dare predict his exact lifespan, she was certain that if he continued like this, he wouldn’t have many years left.

Old Wu gulped down a large mouthful of wine, drained the bowl, and asked, “What did you see?”

Wang Ya said, “The Evil Qi on you is very heavy—ordinary people can’t cultivate that kind of Evil Qi.”

Old Wu glanced at Wang Ya and said nothing.

Wang Ya continued, “The Yin Fiend and Deathly Aura on you are intense—even your breath carries the stench of the dead.” She paused, then said bluntly, “To put it straight, the Yin Fiend and Deathly Aura in you aren’t from ordinary corpse souls, and it’s been there for a while. If I’m not mistaken, you must have disturbed a corpse at least two or three years ago—one that had been buried for many years in a Feng Shui acupoint and sealed with a Restrictive Seal.”

Old Wu stared fixedly at Wang Ya for a full ten seconds, then turned to look at Old Tang standing beside him.