Spirit Realm Walker

The shrill scream echoed through the night, and it only made the place feel lonelier and more terrifying.

Run now?

Zhang Yuanqing felt his scalp prickling and a coldness rise inside his chest as he listened to the scream emanating from the Cat King Speaker. He’d never once expected the Cat King Speaker to hand him a tip like that. This was in no way good news.

Zhang Yuanqing waited in silence for a moment, and when the Cat King Speaker didn’t ”speak” again, his heart sank. 

He gave it a slap. ”Hey, hey, you don’t want to be stuck in this godforsaken place forever either, do you? If you’ve got a way through, spit it out fast. We’ll only get out of here if we work together.”

This time, though, the Cat King Speaker made no answer, not even when he took out the Bloodthirsty Blade to threaten it.

Hmm, so its one and only tip is to run? Seeing there was no reliable information to be had from the Cat King Speaker, Zhang Yuanqing quickly cooled down and started thinking it through.

First he laid out what he already knew and noticed that when the old man had mentioned the paper figure, he’d only said it showed up at the start of the second watch, and offered nothing more. When he’d brought up the ghost girl, though, he’d said she demanded you play a game with her.

Going by that, the paper figure and the ghost girl aren’t the same. You can sidestep the latter by playing around the rules, but the paper figure has to be met head-on.

The Cat King Speaker’s tip is to run, and that tells me enough. The paper figure’s probably even nastier than the ghost girl. This is a dungeon. If I could run, I’d already be running. Do I need you to point that out?

There’s too little information on the paper figure. To beat it, I’ve got to get an understanding of it first. Good thing I’m always careful and asked one extra question.

He’d asked the old man where the rouge box was, and the old man had told him that it was still at Mr. Xu’s house.

The next goal was clear enough. Find Mr. Xu’s house, and find that rouge box. Once he had it, he should be able to pull a good deal of useful information out of it.

It’s been about half an hour since that ghost girl left. She appeared at the start of the first watch, and each watch is two hours long, which means I’ve got about an hour and a half left before the start of the second watch. This village is quite large. Finding Mr. Xu’s house in an hour and a half might be tough.

Zhang Yuanqing gazed out into the deep night, thought for a few seconds, and hit on an idea. He would devour the villagers’ spirit bodies and get the answer. Wang Xiao’er was an important NPC and couldn’t be devoured, but surely the other villagers could be.

He led Corpse No. 1 to the nearest stone house and barged straight in. 

At the sudden sound, the pupils of the two yin corpses inside turned a savage red, and they charged at him, clawing and snapping.

Corpse No. 1 strode forward, right leg lashing out like a whip, and kicked the female yin corpse in the head, exploding it into pulp. Then, riding the momentum of the kick, it spun around in a half circle, drove its right arm around, and smashed the male yin corpse’s head apart with a single punch. Flesh, soft tissue, and chunks of bone sprayed out like rain. 

The two headless yin corpses continued running a few steps of their own accord before toppling to the floor.

Black power welled up within Zhang Yuanqing’s eyes, filling his eye sockets, and he devoured the remnants of the spirit bodies inside the two corpses.

Broken images flashed through his mind one after another, and he quickly found Mr. Xu’s home among the jumbled shards of memories. The teacher had lived in a courtyard on the west side of the village, by the river. He’d been the most learned man in the place.

Now that he knew where Mr. Xu lived, Zhang Yuanqing was in no hurry. He sat down crosslegged where he was, shut his eyes, and rested. In the state he was in, there was no way he would be able to handle a sudden emergency. It was better to use what time he had to heal up and get his stamina back than to wander around out there.

It was impossible to accurately sense the passage of time in the stillness, so Zhang Yuanqing laid the fingers of his left hand on his wrist to feel his pulse, and used that as a way to estimate.

All around him, the Power of the Dark Moon lay thick, nourishing his battered body, mending broken bones, and restoring his stamina. After eighteen hundred heartbeats[1], Zhang Yuanqing opened his eyes, which shone with vitality. His weariness had evaporated.

The broken bones had healed and fully mended themselves, while his stamina was back to seventy percent of its peak. 

Once I’m back to about ninety percent, I can use Moon Howl again. It’s a shame there’s no food, or I’d be already in peak form.

Without waiting any further, he took Corpse No. 1 and headed for the west side of the village.

A dozen minutes later, walking along the narrow village lanes, Zhang Yuanqing heard the merry bubbling of a stream. He squinted into the darkness and saw a small river three meters wide threading its way between the stone houses. The water flowed quickly without being violent.

He followed the river for several more minutes and finally reached the small courtyard where Mr. Xu had lived. By this time, there was a little over half an hour to the second watch. 

To be safe, Zhang Yuanqing planned to send Corpse No. 1 in to scout while he stayed outside. And since a yin corpse’s eyesight could not pierce through the dark, he draped the Yin Yang Spell Robe over Corpse No. 1.

Corpse No. 1 laid both palms against the courtyard gate and pushed. The gate swung slowly open on hinges that screeched loud enough to set one’s teeth on edge.

Fearing no danger in the dark, the yin corpse moved lithely into the little courtyard.

At times like these, Zhang Yuanqing marveled at his own foresight. He’d begun his preparations to refine yin corpses right after hitting Level 3, and managed to create one for himself. He couldn’t imagine trying to clear a dungeon riddled with danger like this one without it. If he walked in on his own to sweep for traps, there was no telling if he’d be blown up on the spot and get sent to the afterlife[2].

Corpse No. 1 crossed the courtyard and pushed open the latticed door of the main room. It stopped at the threshold and opened its palm.

Whoosh!

A fireball appeared, driving out the dark and bringing light.

The furnishings of the main room came into view. There was a round table near the doorway, with several round stools arranged around it, and calligraphy and paintings on the wall. To the left of the door was a carved wooden bed hung with sheer curtains, and to the right was a bookshelf and a rectangular writing desk.

There was no paper figure, and no corpse. The villagers, he supposed, had buried Mr. Xu’s body after finding him dead.

The paper figure isn’t here, though, he noted to himself. That’s good. 

His breathing grew easier.  He stepped over the stone sill of the courtyard gate, and remembered to close it behind him. He crossed the little courtyard and joined up with his yin corpse inside the main room.

The paper figure wasn’t like the ghost girl. As long as it had a physical body, it couldn’t ignore obstacles. The gate would give him prior warning. 

Man and corpse went into the main room and shut the door. Zhang Yuanqing snuffed out the fireball, and gave the bed a once-over first before opening several chests, which were filled with quilts and clothes. He remembered to bend down and glance under the bed as well. Only once he’d confirmed the paper figure really wasn’t in the room did he move over to the writing desk and look over what lay on it.

The first thing to catch his eye was a small, exquisite rouge box, half a palm across and a finger high and made of silver. It consisted of a base and a lid, and fine patterns of auspicious clouds and flowers were carved on it.

Zhang Yuanqing reached out and picked up the rouge box and waited a few seconds. Eventually, the item’s attributes appeared.

【Name: Blood Rouge】

【Type: Cosmetic】

【Function: Spirit Attachment, Bloodthirst】

【Description: It’s said this rouge was made from the fresh blood of eighty-eight young maidens, and it would never dry up nor fade even after a thousand years. It is the boudoir item every woman dreams of. After its owner died, it became a burial good, kept deep in the earth for many long years. A vengeful spirit awakened within the box and was nourished by yin energy, growing ever more vicious. Apply the rouge to the cheeks or the lips to draw the vengeful spirit into possessing you. The vengeful spirit had a fierce craving for fresh blood, and only sacrificing enough blood essence will soothe it.】

【Note 1: Kill others, or kill yourself.】【Note 2: Over the next ten minutes, one of your bodily functions will die off at random.】

【Note 3: Amongst the dead maidens is an Enchanting Demon. Beware of its enchantment.】

So the rouge box really is an item, and a top-tier one too, Zhang Yuanqing realized. Even if it isn’t Saint-tier, it’s still peak Transcendent quality. It feels like it could stand shoulder to shoulder with a superb item like the Yin Yang Spell Robe.

A thought struck Zhang Yuanqing, and he attempted to stow the rouge box away.

【Ding! This item cannot be kept.】

I knew it couldn’t be that easy, Zhang Yuanqing grumbled inwardly.

As far as he knew, every item in the Spirit Realm was one-of-a-kind and wouldn’t respawn. Take it, and it was gone. If the items were removed from the dungeon, the difficulty level would be adjusted. 

The same would happen if Walkers died with these dungeons and left behind their own items. The Spirit Realm would adjust the difficulty level based on the items present.

If the rouge box was an item that could be removed from the dungeon, Demon Lord would have taken it long ago. There was no way it’d still be sitting here.

If the paper figure was gone, perhaps Mute Village’s difficulty level would drop. No one knew.

Going by Note 3, Mr. Xu must’ve been enchanted by the rouge box, which is why he rouged the paper figure’s cheeks, releasing the vengeful spirit inside the box, and died a violent death.

While Zhang Yuanqing formulated his theories, he looked over the other things on the desk. There were a few books on the Ming dynasty, and a rough hand-drawn map. The books were written in traditional characters. Zhang Yuanqing flipped through them idly, then tossed them aside and picked up the map for a closer look instead.

On the map were simple, sketched lines labeled ”houses” and ”peaks,” with a note at the bottom: Ancient tomb location, southwest of the mountain, twenty-three li[3].

When considered together with the Ming dynasty books, Zhang Yuanqing deduced what was going on at once. Mr. Xu had been analyzing the location of the ancient tomb and the identity of the tomb’s owner.

He’d seen Wang Xiao’er come back from the tomb with riches, and greed had stirred within his heart. Perhaps He’d wanted to strike it rich in the tomb himself?

But that’s not right, he realized. Wang Xiao’er and that wandering daoist priest circled the mountains for a whole night before they found the tomb entrance. There’s no way Mr. Xu worked it out from thin air while sitting at home. He probably fished the information out of Wang Xiao’er by buying the rouge box off him…

Zhang Yuanqing set the question aside. How Mr. Xu had learned the tomb’s location didn’t matter. He turned his attention back to the Blood Rouge’s information.

Going by the old man’s account, Mr. Xu was drained into a dried husk, he recalled. That matches with the Blood Rouge’s description. Mr. Xu died, but the villagers next door didn’t. That night, the paper figure killed only him

Suddenly a faint creak came from the courtyard, cutting off Zhang Yuanqing’s train of thought. The sound was slight, but in the silence of the night, any little noise was magnified.

Zhang Yuanqing’s head snapped up toward the door, his body going taut on reflex. Fuck, it’s already the second watch…

Since becoming a Nocturnal Specter, it had been a long time since Zhang Yuanqing felt this sort of scalp-prickling dread. The last time was back in the Temple to the Three Paths Mountain Goddess, when he was still an ordinary man. Back then, he’d held on to his last breath with nothing else but the will to live. Otherwise, the horrors of that temple would have frightened him to death long before.

Now, though, after so long, that feeling had reawakened.

Zhang Yuanqing didn’t grab a weapon and charge outside for a fight to the death with the paper figure. Instead, he took Corpse No. 1 and darted quickly toward the bed, slipping soundlessly underneath it.

He pressed a hand to Corpse No. 1’s shoulder and went into Night Wandering.

Night Wandering could mask his aura and hide his form, so the paper figure shouldn’t be able to find him. Zhang Yuanqing meant to watch first, then decide whether to stay hidden or strike from an ambush.

Both man and corpse had barely hidden themselves under the bed when the door to the main room was pushed open slightly.

A foot in a red-embroidered shoe stepped over the doorway.

Then another foot.

Through it all, Zhang Yuanqing heard a faint rustle, the sound only paper rubbing against paper would make.

It’s the paper figure!

Those feet, clad in embroidered shoes, stepped through the doorway and stopped beside the round table. They stood there, not moving for a good while, like a genuine paper effigy.

Zhang Yuanqing watched the paper figure. He could sense a thick, dense yin energy emanating from it, far stronger than the ghost girl’s aura. He edged out a few centimeters to widen his viewpoint and get a better look at the whole of it.

Darkness did not affect a Nocturnal Specter’s sight. He could make out the shape of the paper figure: an effigy in a garish red garment, akin to a bloody shadow.

Its face was made of paper an unnerving shade of white, yet its cheeks were smeared with a blood red hue, its lips painted with rouge. Most unnerving of all were the two smears of crimson in the effigy’s eye sockets.

Ghastly white and garish red, all on one stiff and expressionless face. Anyone who laid eyes on that face would feel their heart lurch.

Silently, Zhang Yuanqing drew his head back under the bed.

Just then the effigy, after standing frozen for so long, walked toward the writing desk with an odd gait. Its knees seemed incapable of bending, and so it shuffled forward in a stiff-looking parade march, every step moving the same distance, every step taken at the same interval. No human could ever walk with such precision and regularity.

It took the effigy a dozen seconds to cover the distance of four to five meters before it finally stopped beside the desk. Its head drooped stiffly, as if it were looking at what lay on the desk.

What’s it looking at the desk for?  A chill ran through Zhang Yuanqing. He ran through his memories, confirming that he’d put everything back where it was, and only then did he breathe more easily.

The paper figure lingered by the desk for a moment, then turned, stiff-kneed, and walked toward the bed.

Zhang Yuanqing’s nerves, which had just gone slack, pulled taut again.

Rustle…

The paper figure was light, and so were its footsteps.

Zhang Yuanqing’s eyes stayed locked on those embroidered shoes, watching them draw nearer, step by step in that stiff march, until they stopped at the edge of the bed.

Night Wandering or not, Zhang Yuanqing still held his breath.

Having reached the bedside, the figure waited there for another long spell.

By this time, he only had half a minute of Night Wandering left. Those embroidered shoes were less than fifteen centimeters from his face.

After a suffocating silence, the paper figure turned stiffly and walked toward the door in that light, rustling tread.

It’s finally leaving. Zhang Yuanqing almost let out a sigh of relief.

Then, all at once, the effigy stopped, dead still, with its back to the bed.

The edge of the bed blocked Zhang Yuanqing’s view. He could only see the paper figure’s lower legs, and nothing above that. Why did it stop moving?

Puzzled, with his eyes still on the effigy, Zhang Yuanqing watched in horror as the effigy, with its back to him, slowly bent at the waist, lowered its head, and peered under the bed from between its own legs.

That ghastly white face, with no semblance of life on it, filled Zhang Yuanqing’s eyes.

And the paper figure saw him too.

1. If we assume his heart rate is 60 beats per minute, this is half an hour. In this editor’s humble opinion, it seems like a very rough way to estimate time, but then again I’m no Spirit Realm Walker.

2. Editor’s note: I thought that was what Astral Projection was for, but I suppose it’s only useful if there’s someone around to guard his body.

3. One li is 500 meters, or 0.3 miles.