The Nightwalker

The night remained deep and oppressive.

In Songjiang City's old district, the streets lay in silent slumber, as if time itself had abandoned them, leaving behind only shadows and unseen eyes lurking in the dark.

Jiang Wuyue turned and left the alley, the night breeze lifting her long hair.

She lazily tilted her head, rolling her neck as if shaking off something insignificant.

Her steps were light, effortless—like a cat, moving with a grace that was both natural and calculated.

Li Wenhao's gaze lingered on her for the first time, studying her carefully.

This woman…

She was dangerously beautiful.

Her features were exquisitely sharp, her naturally arched brows carrying a hint of cold elegance.

A high nose bridge, lips bold yet not overly seductive, with a touch of languid sensuality.

Her skin was remarkably pale, glowing faintly under the dim streetlights, as if carved from cold jade.

Yet—

Despite the inherent icy sharpness of her appearance, her eyes carried a playful glint, the corners lifting slightly—

Like a fox watching its prey, like a cat toying with a mouse.

She wore a long black trench coat, fitted at the waist. The coat's hem shifted slightly as she walked, revealing a glimpse of slender, porcelain-like legs, each step teasingly skimming the line between elegance and danger.

Her looks and demeanor should have exuded pure frost—

But the way she carried herself, with that lazy amusement, made her impossible to decipher.

Was she a friend or foe?

A genuine ally, or just playing a game?

She was like cold moonlight, yet also like wildfire.

A contradiction—impossible to ignore.

Li Wenhao frowned, averting his gaze.

"Don't act recklessly again."

Jiang Wuyue tilted her head slightly, her smirk deepening.

"Oh? Is my dear Daoist brother worried about me?"

Her voice was soft and teasing, laced with undercurrents of laughter.

Li Wenhao's tone remained indifferent.

"The corpse-refining ritual has spread. Your blood will attract things far worse than tonight's."

Jiang Wuyue chuckled softly, her fingers absentmindedly brushing her dark hair back behind her ear.

"Then let them come."

Her casual attitude didn't match the sharp, eager glint in her eyes.

Li Wenhao's jaw tightened slightly.

This woman—

She wasn't just fearless.

She was thrilled by the danger.

Something Lurks in the Darkness

As they walked out of the alley, Songjiang City's streets stretched ahead, illuminated only by scattered neon lights.

The roads were almost deserted, the silence stretching unnaturally long.

A faint breeze drifted through, carrying with it a strange sweetness, like the scent of overripe fruit mixed with something… off.

Li Wenhao's steps halted.

His gaze turned sharp.

"We're being followed."

Jiang Wuyue's smirk grew.

"Finally."

She didn't seem the least bit surprised.

A voice drifted from the shadows—low, amused.

"Heh… You two are in such a hurry."

A figure emerged from the corner of the street.

A Hunter Appears

The man wore a gray trench coat, his posture languid, his skin unnaturally pale.

In his right hand, he carried a black suitcase.

But what stood out the most—

His gaze, locked onto Jiang Wuyue with undiluted intrigue.

"It's been a long time since I've seen such… a fascinating constitution."

He licked his lips, a slow, eerie gesture—

The look of a predator discovering a rare and exquisite prey.

Jiang Wuyue's eyes narrowed slightly, her smirk deepening.

"Oh? You know me?"

The man's grin widened, revealing sharp, unnatural fangs.

"I don't know you—"

He inhaled deeply, his eyes flashing.

"—but your blood? I recognize it anywhere."

An Instant Clash

Li Wenhao's expression darkened.

With a single step, he closed the distance, his peachwood sword slicing through the air—

Aiming straight for the man's throat!

"Boom—!"

Golden energy ripped through the night, the sword piercing forward like lightning!

But—

The man vanished.

Or rather—

He moved too fast, his body blurring as he barely evaded the strike.

CRACK!

His foot hit the ground, sending deep fractures through the pavement, and a black aura seeped from the cracks.

The temperature plummeted instantly.

He exhaled slowly, his tongue flicking out to lick his lips again, as if savoring something.

"Tsk. Someone's got quite the temper."

Raising one hand, he extended clawed fingers, his nails scraping against the air, emitting a sound like bones grinding against stone.

Li Wenhao's eyes sharpened.

This wasn't a human.

At least—not anymore.

"You're with the Black Sorcery Society?"

The man's grin widened.

"Black Sorcery Society?"

He gave a soft laugh.

"I'm just a buyer."

And with that—

He opened the suitcase.

Instantly—

A storm of blackened, withered hands burst from inside!

A Swarm of Rotting Hands

The hands were skeletal, twisted, their fingernails long and yellowed.

Some were missing fingers, others still dripped with congealed black blood.

They grew unnaturally, stretching like grotesque tentacles, reaching for Li Wenhao and Jiang Wuyue!

Jiang Wuyue's eyes lit up, a delighted chuckle escaping her lips as she gracefully stepped backward, avoiding the grasping limbs.

She crossed her arms, watching with amusement.

"Daoist brother, looks like it's your turn to shine?"

Li Wenhao ignored her, flipping a talisman between his fingers.

The paper ignited in an instant, crackling with blinding golden sparks.

"Purify!"

His voice rang out, and thunder erupted—

BOOM!

A massive arc of lightning tore through the night, obliterating half the ghastly limbs in one strike!

The stench of burning rot filled the air, accompanied by a chorus of agonized, high-pitched shrieks.

The surviving hands shriveled, retreating back into the suitcase.

The Shadow Fades

For the first time—

The man's expression shifted slightly, his gaze darkening.

But—

He didn't attack again.

Instead—

He took a step back.

Then—

With a final wicked grin, his body melted into the darkness.

Gone.

Like he'd never been there at all.

A Foul Presence Remains

The street fell back into silence.

Jiang Wuyue clicked her tongue.

"Tch. He runs fast."

Li Wenhao stared at the empty space where the man had vanished, his expression grim.

"No. He'll be back."

The air still carried the faint, lingering stench of decay.

A telltale trace of necromantic sorcery.

This wasn't just an ambush.

It was a warning.

And the true source of the corpse-refining rituals—

Was far more powerful than they'd imagined.

The night was heavy, pressing low over the city.

A damp, ancient stench filled the air, thick with decay and the faint tang of blood, like a long-buried corpse unearthed from the mud.

Li Wenhao stood at the mouth of the alley, his gaze dark and unwavering as he took in the sight before him.

Ghost Alley.

A hundred years ago, it had been the battlefield of a massive ghost-hunting operation, sealed afterward and gradually forgotten by the world.

But tonight—

The air was once again thick with Yin energy, and blackened blood seeped up from the cracks in the stone pavement.

Jiang Wuyue stood beside him, lazily twirling a black oil-paper umbrella, her red lips curling into an easy smirk.

"Daoist brother, this place is downright ominous."

Li Wenhao ignored her.

Lifting his fingers into a hand seal, he flipped his palm over—

A yellow talisman materialized in midair, the symbols inscribed upon it crackling faintly with streaks of golden lightning.

"Open!"

With a low command, the talisman ignited, transforming into a golden energy blade, slashing toward the alley's entrance.

"Buzz—!"

The moment it struck, the space rippled like a stone cast into a still lake.

Then—

A previously invisible barrier emerged from the darkness, covered in layers of intricate seals and incantations, its surface pulsating like a weakening heartbeat.

Jiang Wuyue's eyelashes fluttered, her smirk deepening.

"Oh? A seal?"

Li Wenhao's brow furrowed.

"No… this seal is failing."

As soon as the words left his mouth—

"Crack!"

A crisp shattering sound echoed in the alley.

A deep fracture split the ancient seal inscriptions, and from the widening fissure—

A surge of Yin wind howled through, carrying with it the suffocating stench of rotting corpses and a sickly-sweet stench of decay.

And then—

From the depths of the alley, a sound emerged.

"Crack… crack… crack…"

A wet, unnatural noise, like bones twisting—

Like a neck being forcibly bent backward.

Jiang Wuyue's smirk faded slightly, her eyes narrowing.

"Something's coming out."

Li Wenhao made no further hesitation.

He tightened his grip on his peachwood sword, eyes locked on the shadows ahead.

And then—

A figure emerged.

A man, draped in a tattered, dust-covered robe, slowly glided out from the darkness.

No.

Not walked—

He slid forward, his feet unmoving, as if some invisible force was dragging him along.

And his neck—

His neck had been snapped, his head lolling at an unnatural angle, almost touching his shoulder.

Jiang Wuyue arched a brow, letting out a soft chuckle.

"Tsk, now that's an ugly sight."

The corpse did not respond.

Instead, its jaw moved—slowly, stiffly, like rusted machinery grinding to life.

And from the depths of its throat—

A broken, raspy whisper escaped, fragmented and ancient.

"Yin… Yang… Gate…"

Li Wenhao's pupils contracted sharply.

"It knows about the Yin-Yang Gate."

The very next second—

The corpse lunged forward!

Li Wenhao twisted his foot, shifting his stance as his sword flashed downward—

"Boom—!"

A thunderous golden strike cleaved through the air, aiming to cut down the corpse in one decisive blow!

But—

The moment the blade fell, the corpse's body contorted unnaturally—

Its bones bending in impossible angles, twisting in midair to evade the fatal strike!

Li Wenhao's frown deepened.

Just as he prepared for a second strike—

Jiang Wuyue moved.

She extended a single finger, the tip of her nail tracing a slow arc in the air.

A drop of crimson light formed at her fingertip, pulsing ominously.

Lifting her gaze, she smiled faintly, her dark irises flickering with a dangerous glow.

Her lips parted—

And in a voice soft yet absolute, she murmured:

"Submit."

In an instant—

The corpse froze mid-movement, its entire form shuddering violently.

As if an invisible force had seized its very soul, it convulsed, its shadowy energy writhing and lashing outward like a cornered beast.

Jiang Wuyue took a step closer, the red glow on her fingers intensifying.

"Who… are you?"

The corpse's empty eye sockets dilated, struggling under an unseen pressure.

Its mouth shuddered, forming words—

"Yin… Yang… Gate…"

Jiang Wuyue's smile vanished.

For the first time, her voice lost its playfulness, replaced by a cold seriousness.

"What is the Yin-Yang Gate?"

The corpse trembled violently, its body contorting grotesquely—

Then—

Its face collapsed inward, as if something was tearing it apart from the inside.

"Boom—!"

The corpse exploded into a spray of inky black blood, its flesh disintegrating into formless sludge.

Then—

Silence.

The wind stilled.

The alley fell deathly quiet once more.

Jiang Wuyue frowned, flicking her fingers lightly to rid herself of the lingering traces of blood.

She sighed, sounding thoroughly unimpressed.

"Useless."

Li Wenhao stared at the remains, his brows knitting together.

"Someone was controlling it."

Jiang Wuyue turned slightly, her expression playful once more.

"Daoist brother… any guesses who?"

Li Wenhao didn't answer.

Instead—

He lifted his gaze, staring into the depths of the alley, his eyes cold as steel.

The Black Sorcery Society was not acting alone.

This was not random.

This was deliberate.

And the true horror behind it all—

Had yet to fully reveal itself.