Chapter 107: The Bleeding Wall

I recited an old family chant passed down from the Song clan. Honestly, I didn't fully understand its meaning—it was something my grandfather taught me. As a coroner dealing with the dead, you often attract unclean spirits. Whenever something feels off, reciting this chant usually helps to ease the tension.

With the immediate danger eased, Wang Dali finally stopped acting weird. Huang Xiaotao asked him what had freaked him out just now. Wang Dali recounted everything, and Huang Xiaotao shuddered, saying, "That ghost actually held a knife to my neck?"

I said, "Stop freaking everyone out. Tell me, how does a ghost kill someone?"

Wang Dali nodded seriously, "Ghosts are spiritual entities, they attack invisibly. They don't kill with bloodshed. Sometimes when you're walking down the street, you suddenly get a chill—that means a ghost passed right by. They can kill your soul and take over your body."

"I don't buy such nonsense. If ghosts could really take revenge, why would we even need the police?" I sneered.

"Exactly!" Huang Xiaotao nodded in agreement.

It seemed the house was indeed haunted. I suggested we stay upstairs together and not leave, because when people gather, their Yang energy is strong—ghosts can't get close.

We stayed upstairs for a while when Wang Dali suddenly said, "Yangzi, I gotta go to the bathroom!"

"How the hell do you have so much to poop?" I snapped.

...

...

"But I couldn't go earlier!" Wang Dali whined miserably.

"Hold it a little longer," I said, turning my head away.

After a bit, Huang Xiaotao said she needed to use the bathroom. I offered to accompany her. Wang Dali jumped on the chance, shouting, "Alright, Song Yang, you care more about women than friends!"

I defended myself, "Of course I need to look out for the ladies."

Because of what happened earlier in the bathroom, we decided to go outside. The villa was surrounded by waist-high wild grass. We all found our own spots to relieve ourselves. I found a secluded spot to "open the floodgates" too.

After feeling relieved, I noticed a black SUV parked across the street. This place was out in the middle of nowhere—no village in front, no shops behind. Who would park here? Some couple having a quickie in the car?

Since we were investigating, any suspicious thing had to be checked out. When Huang Xiaotao came over, I gave her a quiet signal: "That car looks suspicious. Let's check it out."

"Got it."

As we approached, the car suddenly started. Huang Xiaotao shouted, "Stop! Police!"

The SUV sped off. Huang Xiaotao drew her gun, ready to fire a warning shot, but instead leveled it and shot at the vehicle, sparks flying off the metal. I scolded, "Why did you shoot at the car?"

"It was a blank round!" she said. "The car was covering its license plate—it's suspicious. Now it's marked."

She pulled out her phone and called the station, ordering them to notify every 4S dealership in the city to watch out for a black SUV with bullet impact marks on its rear, and to detain the owner.

Police usually keep a blank round loaded first for safety, but it still packs enough punch to dent metal. Huang Xiaotao's move was against regulations, but without it, the lead would vanish. Sometimes, extraordinary situations call for extraordinary measures!

I admired her quick thinking. Huang Xiaotao proudly blew smoke off her gun barrel, saying, "All my skills come from real combat!"

We returned to the villa. I called out for Wang Dali in the bushes but got no reply. I poked through the grass with a stick and found a fresh pile of poop he left behind. Suddenly, a scream echoed from the house. Huang Xiaotao and I exchanged worried looks. That guy—no sooner do you look away and something happens. He's really careless...

We rushed upstairs. The dark corridor was pitch black when suddenly a shadow darted quickly from one room to another.

Huang Xiaotao grabbed my shoulder tightly, whispering, "Song Yang, did you see? Someone crawled over there!"

The figure peeked out from the door—it was Wang Dali. Sweating profusely, he looked around nervously, acting like he didn't see us, then crawled quickly toward the end of the hall.

"Hey, what the hell are you doing?" I shouted, chasing after him. He crawled so fast I was stunned. He reached the bathroom, stripped his shirt, dipped it in the toilet water, and started squeezing it onto his head.

I kicked him on the butt. He hit his head on the toilet and turned to me: "Yangzi, there's a fire here! Get down!"

"What are you talking about? Where's the fire?" I asked, confused.

"Everywhere! Don't stand up or you'll get poisoned by the gas!" Wang Dali panicked.

I slapped him hard twice. He burst into tears and hugged me: "Yangzi, we're going to burn alive here."

Suddenly I realized—looking into his eyes—they were glazed over.

"You're hallucinating!" I shouted.

"No, it's real. Look at my hand—it's burned!" He showed me his arm, and sure enough, there was a patch of burned skin.

I'd heard that strong psychological suggestion could actually cause physical effects. There was a hypnotist who once pressed a normal coin onto a subject's arm while claiming it was red-hot—and the subject's skin really blistered.

But this made no sense. There was no outsider here to hypnotize Wang Dali in an instant. Could supernatural powers actually exist?

Suddenly Huang Xiaotao screamed from the room we'd been in earlier. I ran over. She pointed to the wall, "The wall... it's bleeding!"

I looked and saw the wall covered in bright red blood seeping through the paint, dripping onto the floor, quickly surrounding us.

"The fire is spreading! Yangzi, where are you guys?" Wang Dali cried crawling outside the door.

"No!" I said, "This is all hallucination, pure hallucination!"

I bit my tongue hard, but it didn't help. The blood was still everywhere.

I quickly pulled out a pack of refined salt from my bag—something I had asked Wang Dali to buy earlier. Salt can ward off evil. I tore it open and started scattering it on the floor.

Suddenly my palm felt sticky. I looked down, furious at Wang Dali—he had bought me plain white sugar!

The blood on the floor suddenly bubbled up. From it emerged a woman's head, ghostly and pale, whispering, "Since you've come to my humble home, stay and keep company with me and my child."

"You won't fool me!"

I got impatient and threw a handful of sugar at her. The woman's head slowly raised, revealing her full neck. I stared wide-eyed—salt wards off spirits, so does sugar actually help them?

"Ah!"

Huang Xiaotao screamed, clutching her finger. I grabbed her hand—her delicate finger was burned.

At that moment, my palm also ached sharply. I looked down to see blood. I desperately rubbed it against my pants, but the skin touched by the blood was burning. My heart raced—this hallucination could actually hurt!

Blood flowed from all directions, climbing up my pants legs and shoes. No matter how hard I stomped, it wouldn't go away!

I suddenly remembered the few "Mingxin Pills" I'd prepared, which could instantly clear the mind. I pulled out a gum box and took two pills, popping one into my mouth.

The Mingxin Pill, made from a dozen calming and mind-refreshing herbs ground finely, gave a sharp cooling sensation that shot straight to the brain, clearing my head instantly.

The hallucination vanished.

I saw the truth, and burst out laughing. So that's it—the secret behind spontaneous human combustion!

Huang Xiaotao asked, "Song Yang, what are you laughing at? We're about to be drowned in blood!"

"Look for yourself."

I shoved a Mingxin Pill into her mouth and told her not to swallow yet. The taste was sharper than mustard. Huang Xiaotao pressed her forehead, then looked up wide-eyed, "Ants?"

"Yes. That blood is actually swarms of South African bullet ants. The two earlier victims weren't burned alive—the ants secreted acid that corroded them to death," I explained.