The Ghost in the Stairwell

Chapter 8: The Ghost in the Stairwell

Qin Yichuan tightened his grip, and a clear, resonant cry—like that of a crane—pierced the air.

Xie Ruge could no longer hold on. She screamed and tried to flee, only to collide with a shadowy figure that dissolved like snowflakes in a sea of azure flames, leaving no trace behind.

Qin extinguished the flames. Though residual heat lingered, the raging inferno that had engulfed the room moments earlier hadn't so much as singed the curtains.

Xie Ying lay unconscious on the floor, her hair singed at the ends by lingering wisps of yin energy.

As the fight concluded, Qin muttered under his breath, "If Comrade Xun Yan would just cause a little less trouble, I wouldn't have to personally clean up every lingering spirit. I'll dock his pay for half a month when this is over."

He slapped a calming talisman onto Mr. Wang's forehead and patted the man's cheek. "Hey, Mr. Wang. Wake up. It's done."

"M-Master Qin! The ghost—!" Mr. Wang jolted upright like a spooked horse.

"Your house is cleaner than my pockets now. Go check on your wife. The yin energy's left her weakened—find a reputable herbalist to prescribe something soothing. Here." Qin tossed him a paper charm.

"What's this?" Mr. Wang squinted at the slip.

"Call it a protective talisman. Wealth, luck, exorcism—all-in-one. Rare as phoenix feathers. Others beg for it, but you're special." Qin waved a hand airily.

Mr. Wang's eyes lit up. "You're a true brother! Take this card—¥1.5 million total. ¥900k for the job, ¥200k for travel, the rest… call it a New Year's bonus. Treat your team to something nice."

Qin arched a brow at the sudden camaraderie but pocketed the card with a cryptic smile. "Send me the contact info for whoever gave you that cursed red thread. If they're targeting you, there might be more traps. And stay with your wife—no business trips until she recovers."

"Understood, understood!" Mr. Wang bobbed his head.

Qin plucked the crimson thread from Xie Ying's wrist, snapping it effortlessly. When Mr. Wang offered his own, Qin stuffed both into his coat.

He hailed a taxi, bypassing Dongzhou for the home of Mr. Wang's father-in-law, Xie Yuanchao.

The retired soldier-turned-teacher had stubbornly bought this "haunted" house decades ago. His iron will had suppressed its darkness for forty years—until his recent murder reignited old horrors.

The aging apartment complex stood half-abandoned, slated for demolition. Xie's fourth-floor unit loomed above broken motion-activated lights. By the third floor, the stairwell plunged into gloom; by the fourth, utter darkness.

Qin pocketed his phone's flashlight to avoid startling any remaining residents. Three turns later, the stairs stretched endlessly, footsteps echoing in the void.

He halted. The footsteps continued—soft, slippered, icy.

Azure flame sparked at his fingertips, illuminating a lunging woman. Her right eye dangled from a split socket, flesh rotting in patches. The vintage floral padded jacket couldn't hide limbs stitched haphazardly after a fatal fall decades prior.

"Been dead fifty years and only now causing trouble?" Qin mused, unmoving as she snapped at his throat.

"Aren't you going to help?" he called into the abyss. "I'm still injured, you know."

A sigh answered. A blade colder than winter frost pinned the specter to the wall. Her shrieks faded as the weapon devoured her essence.

Xun Yan retrieved his Kunwu Blade. "Scabbard's broken. Needs replacement."

"Take the full fee—¥1.5 million. Buy whatever." Qin offered the card.

"Excessive." Xun declined.

"Next year's Kunlun auction then. We'll find you something sturdy." Qin rolled his eyes. "Where's Honghong?"

"Resolving a territorial dispute between two shape-shifted weasels." Xun scanned the stairwell. "Why here?"

"That ghost shouldn't have resurfaced. Xie Yuanchao's murder site—need to check for supernatural traces."

The apartment revealed nothing. No residual darkness, only sterile quiet.

"Not a haunted house—more like a sanctified temple," Qin remarked. "The old man must've been extraordinary in his past life to suppress this place. His death broke the seal."

"There's a survivor," Xun noted.

"The second daughter. Still comatose. Only witness." Qin's gaze darkened. "Whoever—or whatever—did this left no trail. Human or ghost, they're thorough."