Chapter Eighty-Nine: Alive, Yet No Ghost in Sight

As for the final case, a farmer passing by the banks of the Little Li River claimed to have seen the shadow of a dragon gliding past.

Zhou Bai thought it over and set the matter aside for the moment.

The Little Li River was a tributary of the Clear River, tucked away in a remote place where few people would ever pass. He did take some interest in this so-called dragon shadow.

But a dragon was the spirit of all living things; for one to appear in mountains and rivers was hardly realistic. At best, it was probably just a somewhat large white python.

By now, the spiritual materials for crossing the heavenly tribulation should already be on the road. He did not wish to waste time investigating such dubious matters.

Zhou Bai decided to settle the cases at hand first, then direct his main efforts toward his own cultivation.

Thinking of this, he set out at once, carrying two blades, and went alone to the residence of Master Li, the wealthy man.

When he reached the estate, he saw a steward waiting at the gate from afar. The man looked hesitant when he saw Zhou Bai, but still came forward.

"Immortal Master Zhou, I am afraid there has been some misunderstanding. There is no ghostly thing in our household. Please, go back."

Zhou Bai frowned, gave him a long, searching look, and let his gaze linger on the man for several seconds before turning to the estate itself.

He found the place eerily silent. Not even the slightest human voice could be heard.

"Since you reported it to the Bureau of Nether Records yesterday, whether I leave or not is not for you to decide."

The steward was old, the wrinkles on his face bunched together as he stammered, "Immortal Master Zhou... there's nothing in the house... only that a yellow ox died a few days ago."

Without thinking, Zhou Bai rested his hand on the handle of the butcher's blade behind his back, while using his yin-yang sight to examine the estate.

He detected no stirring of yin energy inside, yet he still felt uneasy.

"Take me to the yellow ox."

The steward did not know how to refuse and could only lead Zhou Bai to the patch of farmland specially opened up in the courtyard.

The field seemed to have been abandoned for a long time. Wild grass had overrun the soil, and a bovine carcass, already somewhat rotten and foul, had been thrown there.

"Two days ago, that yellow ox gave birth. But when it was delivering, there were complications, and it died. We reported it to the yamen, and Constable Sun even came in person to inspect the carcass."

As the steward spoke, Zhou Bai drew nearer to the body, while the steward seemed afraid and stayed far off, unwilling to come close.

The stench stabbed straight into the brain, but Zhou Bai was used to it. He casually picked up a branch and prodded the carcass.

Hangdu was damp, and the temperature had also remained high these past days. The carcass had already decayed badly, and he easily split open its belly.

The flesh had rotted away, but the stomach was still fairly intact.

Zhou Bai quickly discovered something. It did indeed seem to be the work of a ghostly creature, but he was puzzled: if there truly were a ghost in this estate, why was there not the slightest trace of yin energy?

Inside the cow's stomach, he saw wounds left by something crawling about. This was certainly not as simple as the steward had claimed.

"Where is the calf it gave birth to?"

The steward opened and closed his mouth as if he wanted to speak, yet did not know how to begin.

Zhou Bai repeated the question, and this time a faint, oppressive aura began to emanate from him, one that ordinary people could hardly withstand.

"We... we raised the calf somewhere else... no, no... it was given away."

Zhou Bai gave a cold laugh and flicked the Tang-style saber at his waist. A formless blade intent struck directly at the steward.

The steward's face went white, his legs gave way, and his gaze subconsciously shifted toward the inner rooms.

It was a side chamber near the main house. Zhou Bai quickened his pace and rushed over.

As he passed the steward, he suddenly drew his butcher's blade and hurled it with force.

The blade struck the steward in the neck, and with a muffled grunt, the man fainted on the spot.

To Zhou Bai, this steward was highly suspicious. If someone had truly died in the household, the matter could not have nothing to do with him.

Moreover, at first glance Zhou Bai had already noticed something strange. The man's eyes were faintly red and dry, the result of being kept open for too long.

That sort of condition only occurred when a person focused intently on something. There were also flecks of flesh caught between the steward's fingernails, perhaps left there from dragging a body.

Zhou Bai dragged the steward's body along and headed for the side chamber. When he was within about ten paces, he could not help but stop.

Even from that distance, he could still hear sounds coming from inside through the crack in the door: the cry of an infant, so loud it was almost deafening.

By ordinary logic, a ghost infant was merely a wandering wraith and should not have had much power to harm anyone.

Only infants who died at specific times, or who were born in yin hours and on yin days, would become particularly vicious specters.

For caution's sake, Zhou Bai did not open the door rashly. Instead, he flung the steward at it, smashing it open. The baby's cries stopped abruptly.

The room was pitch-dark. A reeking mix of blood and decay slammed into him.

At a glance, he still sensed no yin energy. Yet he saw a man and a woman standing in the corner, with the steward rolled to a stop beside them.

In the corner stood a large table. The man was Master Zhang. He stood motionless before the table, dumbly holding a butcher's blade.

Beside him sat a huge bamboo basket, packed full of corpses so tightly that there seemed to be more than a dozen. Judging from their clothing, they should have been servants from the estate.

The woman must have been Madam Wang. A sinister smile clung to her face as she stared at the wall, no one knew what thoughts were moving behind her eyes.

Zhou Bai looked closely. These two were ordinary people. Though their behavior was abnormal, there was no yin energy on them either.

Madam Wang paid no attention to anything else and muttered to herself as if speaking to someone unseen. "Good child, you're hungry, aren't you? Isn't the food just arriving? Mother will prepare it for you right away."

After saying that, she tossed the steward onto the table. The force behind the throw made it hard to believe she was an ordinary woman.

At that moment, Master Zhang also moved. He lifted the butcher's blade and brought it down with a savage chop. Even Zhou Bai, an old butcher himself, could not help but cast a sideward glance, and for a few breaths he actually froze.

The steward was dead at once. The corpse was cut open by the blade, but Master Zhang was not interested in the flesh on the body. He took out only the lungs.

At this point, Zhou Bai was no longer in such a hurry. He was quite curious what these two madmen intended to do, so he simply walked into the center of the room and leaned against a pillar.

Holding the blood-dripping lungs, Madam Wang wore that same bizarre, unsettling smile and said, "My son, the lung of one who has just died is the freshest. Have some."

Zhou Bai spat on the floor. It was the first time he had encountered such a scene. The two members of the Zhang household were clearly under a ghostly enchantment, yet why was there not a trace of yin energy in the room? Could it be that the ghost was not nearby?

And yet he had clearly heard the cry of an infant before entering.

Just then, a drop of water fell beside Zhou Bai, and immediately afterward he heard the sound of someone swallowing above his head.