Chapter 75: Weakness (Part 2 of 2)

Just as we were breathing a sigh of relief, the old woman vanished without a trace right in front of us.

The police officer waved us over, and Cui Hai shakily pulled the car over to the side of the road. As we rolled down the window, the officer gave us a salute and said,

"The bridge up ahead has collapsed—no passage allowed. If you're heading to Shenyang, take the eastern route instead."

We thanked him profusely, silently giving thanks to the heavens. That yellow weasel spirit really was a nightmare to deal with. Clearly, she was trying to lure us toward that broken bridge to fall to our deaths. But fate granted us a lifeline. With the police present, the threat was dispelled for now. I glanced at the shadowy spirit behind Cui Hai—it was still there, but its presence had significantly weakened.

Knowing we were temporarily safe, I told him to speed up. Freed from our heavy burden, we rushed back to Shenyang. What should've been a three-hour drive had taken us nearly seven full hours. We stopped at Shengjing Hospital to quickly patch up Cui Hai's wounds.

As we exited, he nervously asked, "Is it over now? Are we safe?"

I shook my head. "It's never that simple."This kind of blood feud—a vengeance rooted in the loss of five children—wasn't going to just end. Cui Hai was the first target. If he died, Liu Ruoyi would be next. For her sake, I couldn't let him die.

Just then, his phone rang. The moment he answered, Cui Hai burst into tears—it was a call from his grandfather.

After a brief call, the old man invited us to his house. He originally came from the countryside near the Greater Khingan Mountains. After his wife passed away, he moved to Shenyang but couldn't get used to city life. Cui Hai's father had bought land in Sujiatun, a more rural area, so his grandfather could enjoy a quiet, pastoral life.

We drove there under the cover of night. After a day of relentless torment, even that yellow weasel likely needed rest. But we knew—wherever we went, the ghost followed. And where the ghost went, so too did the weasel. She had locked onto Cui Hai and wouldn't let go.

His grandfather was waiting with a flashlight. Though in his late seventies, he was still robust and alert.

The moment Cui Hai saw him, he broke down completely, sobbing as he recounted the entire event—the killing of the weasel pups and the haunting that followed.

The old man was deeply shaken. As a man from the mountains, he had absolute belief in spirits and folklore, and now he panicked, even suggesting Cui Hai flee abroad to escape the curse.

Fearing the shock might give the old man a stroke, I introduced myself as a Yin-Yang master, and Cui Hai backed me up with the story of how I'd saved him on the road. Naturally, the old man was immensely grateful.

I'd never been to this part of Sujiatun before. It hadn't yet been redeveloped, and the houses were still traditional rural courtyards. Cui Hai's grandfather's home was more impressive than most, indicating a bit of wealth. That night, I drew two talismans and sealed the front door to block the spirit's entry, hoping for one good night's sleep.

As for how to resolve this… I was torn.Killing the weasel would end it—but doing so would also incur heavenly wrath. Not killing her, though? She'd never stop.

I wrestled with this moral dilemma until I eventually drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, I was awakened by his grandfather knocking on my door. He looked exhausted—clearly, neither he nor Cui Hai had slept. It reminded me of my own grandfather. If something had happened to me, he would've looked just like this.

The old man had made a hearty breakfast. It was clear they wanted to take care of me. After the meal, he asked if I had any solution at all.

Truthfully, I did. But I wanted a peaceful one.

My grandfather had once told me: all mountain spirits and monsters who harm people use soul-capturing magic. Just like what we'd experienced: the entity wasn't killing the body directly, but rather targeting the soul. That's why you often hear of people going mad after offending a fox or weasel spirit—they've been spiritually manipulated.

But there's a universal weakness to all such creatures, no matter how long they've trained:

Their original body—the true form.

No matter how many years they've cultivated, if they haven't taken human form or achieved spiritual ascension, they remain animals. If you can locate their original body, you can end everything.

Remember the centipede demon in Journey to the West? The one with dozens of disgusting eyes on its belly? Not even Sun Wukong could defeat it… until they brought in the rooster deity 昴日星官. As soon as it revealed the demon's original form, the battle ended in a snap.

Even in Legend of the White Snake, there's an episode where a centipede demon falls into a chicken coop and is scared half to death.

It's always about the original body—no matter how powerful a demon is, its physical form is always its greatest vulnerability.

For Liu Ruoyi's sake, I couldn't worry about karma anymore.

I saw that the old man had plenty of hunting gear, so I told him:

"Sir, that yellow weasel will definitely come again tonight. I know you're skilled in hunting. I'll stay here to watch over Cui Hai. You go out and track down the weasel's true body. But remember—do not kill it."

The old man immediately started preparing his gear. Meanwhile, I stayed behind to keep Cui Hai calm.

I expected the weasel to strike at night, when the Yin energy was strongest.

But then, completely without warning—Cui Hai dropped his chopsticks, started grinning idiotically, and began slamming his forehead against the table—again and again.BANG. BANG. BANG.

His face was twisted with madness, like he'd completely lost his mind.