Volume One: The Soul-Gathering Gourd and the Soul-Igniting Lamp Chapter 79: Strange Behavior

Li Hetang’s question sent a chill down Gu Mo’s spine, making him tremble involuntarily. Beneath his contorted features, Gu Mo suddenly blurted out a string of curses.

“Damn it—something big has happened!”

Hearing this, Li Hetang was instantly seized by a bad premonition. The two exchanged a glance and rushed toward the site of the incident. Though it was only a dozen steps away, Li Hetang’s heart felt as if it were ablaze, impatient and anxious.

Once they cleared away the smoke, they saw the scorched remains of the straw man, and Gu Mo’s heart finally settled. Li Hetang, however, stood rooted with a pale face, staring at the ashes, the turmoil in his heart refusing to subside.

After a long pause, Gu Mo gently nudged Li Hetang with his elbow.

“What did you see? Wasn’t it just a straw man? Hmm… Did you run into something supernatural?”

Li Hetang nodded dumbly, then spoke with unusual gravity.

“The one I fought was clearly code-named ‘O’!”

A thunderclap seemed to explode in Gu Mo’s mind.

“What? The one you fought was the very woman we’re supposed to rescue? Why did I see something completely different?”

Li Hetang nodded in confusion, pointing to the shocking scratches on his bulletproof vest and the deep wound that exposed the bone. Gu Mo squinted and took a closer look; the sturdy vest was shredded and torn. Li Hetang shot Gu Mo a defiant glance, his words tinged with challenge.

“Otherwise, why would I be in such a sorry state?”

At last, Gu Mo understood. After a brief exchange, the two reached a startling conclusion.

It turned out that these straw men, marked with black talismans, could transform into whatever their opponent feared most. If the opponent no longer felt fear, pressed forward, and risked everything in a fight, the straw men’s strength became negligible.

For Li Hetang, who fought alongside Gu Mo, his greatest fear was the woman known as ‘O’. Thus, he was cautious at every turn, suffering injuries all over, nearly losing his head to the straw man.

Gu Mo, on the other hand, was a ‘mercenary’ sent to complete a task, his conscience unblemished, with nothing or no one to fear. (Though he found the straw men troublesome, his courage had grown, and he could make the right moves at critical moments.)

Without fear, Gu Mo quickly saw through the straw man’s true nature.

Having worked out the truth, the two now wondered aloud.

“Mr. Gu, what do you think Master Xiao, with his profound Daoist skills, would face?”

At this, Gu Mo’s heart gave a jolt.

“Damn—how could I have forgotten? That scruffy Daoist doesn’t even fear dragons! If the straw man manifests his deepest terror, then we might…”

His words trailed off as both Gu Mo and Li Hetang, sweating profusely, exchanged terrified glances, their souls nearly fleeing their bodies, faces frozen in shock.

They dreaded that the scruffy Daoist might conjure a far more dreadful entity, and the three of them might be buried forever in this mist.

Taking a deep breath, the pair drew their weapons and began searching through the fog.

After an indeterminate time, they caught a strong scent of blood. Their hearts pounding, they followed the trail for another dozen steps. Li Hetang, leading the way, saw a blood-red lake ahead.

On its surface lay a pile of corpses, already cold and lifeless. Severed limbs and wounds deep enough to reveal bone were everywhere.

A lone head floated in the lake, half-submerged, its eyes dulled by terror and staring fixedly in Li Hetang’s direction.

In those tragic eyes flickered a final glimmer of hope for survival.

Page 1/3

Page 2/3

For a moment, the horror was overwhelming. This was no strange, deserted village—it was hell on earth.

Caw, caw, caw—

Seven or eight pitch-black, sinister crows perched atop the corpses, greedily pecking at exposed flesh.

Thud, thud, thud—

A few blood-eyed crows tapped their sharp beaks against the skulls, as though eager to taste the brains within.

Swoosh—

A bloody ‘thing’ was pulled from a corpse’s belly, and two crows grabbed either end, tugging furiously. In the crazed eyes of these blood-eyed crows, food was all that mattered.

Caw, caw, caw—

The crows flapped their wings, heedless of the falling black feathers. Each bird’s eyes were an eerie, crystalline red, as if blood itself had solidified within.

Gu Mo felt his scalp tingle and chills run down his spine. With the cold wind and dense fog around them, the atmosphere became unbearably terrifying.

Li Hetang glared furiously, drew his pistol, and fired repeatedly.

Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang!

The gunshots rang out, and several crows dropped dead on the spot. The rest barely had time to take flight before falling into the blood lake as fresh offerings.

Gu Mo, shivering, composed himself and noticed Li Hetang’s marksmanship was impeccable. Each bullet struck the crows’ blood-red heads, leaving no escape for the filthy creatures.

In an instant, the vast blood lake fell eerily silent.

Li Hetang reloaded, then strode into the lake, water reaching his ankles.

Gu Mo’s heart tightened, fearing Li Hetang might do something rash. He removed his shoes and socks, rolled up his trousers, and stepped into the blood lake as well.

The sticky, nauseating sensation made Gu Mo shudder; it felt as though the lake still possessed a will of its own.

Li Hetang walked toward his fallen comrades, picking up severed limbs and attempting to reassemble the bodies. Even the torn and pecked intestines were carefully pushed back.

Gu Mo could only shrug helplessly and assist Li Hetang in their grim task.

After some fifteen minutes, Li Hetang looked down at the neatly arranged corpses and saluted with military precision, tears streaming from his eyes.

Gu Mo, standing nearby, frowned deeply, unsure how to react.

Then Li Hetang bent down, removed the ID tags from each neck, bit his lip, and solemnly declared,

“Brothers, may you rest in peace. I, Li Hetang, will ensure your deaths are not in vain.”

He turned, eyes bloodshot, to look at Gu Mo.

In that instant, Gu Mo shivered all over. Li Hetang seemed transformed, like a beast poised for vengeance. His eyes, filled with blood and tears, radiated a murderous intent.

“Mr. Gu, hurry!”

Gu Mo suppressed his fear and nodded silently.

Li Hetang attached the steel ID tags to his tactical pack. The wind stirred, and the blood-stained tags clinked together.

Jingling—

…

Gu Mo, shoes back on, followed Li Hetang with a grim expression. After walking for ten minutes, they found themselves back at the entrance to Old Bridge Village.

Looking up, they saw a scruffy Daoist in black robes, sitting cross-legged before a skeleton, drinking and chatting as if communing with the dead Daoist in matching robes.

Gu Mo’s heart leapt.

Li Hetang stopped, coldly aiming his gun at Xiao Yulou. It seemed his fury had made him see Xiao Yulou as yet another straw man.

Page 2/3

Page 3/3

Seeing how tense things had grown, Gu Mo leaped forward and gripped the gun tightly.

Whoosh—

Li Hetang spun around, his bloodshot eyes frightening Gu Mo, but Gu Mo simply shook his head.

Li Hetang, regaining a shred of composure, sighed heavily.

Gu Mo quietly approached, Tian Measuring Ruler in hand, listening to Xiao Yulou’s muttered ramblings.

“It’s all my fault. I should never have taken you as my disciple…”

Struck by the strangeness of these clues, Gu Mo stopped, curious to see what secrets this seemingly immortal Daoist still held.

Xiao Yulou suddenly grabbed the bottle, gulped down liquor, and addressed the skeleton.

“One soul gone, two spirits lost! Guarding this place is just to repay karmic debts from past lives? My disciple—wouldn’t it be better to live as a foolish village guardian? But you, you blocked a fatal blow for me! Old Iron Ox! Do you really want your master to owe you forever?”

Deeply moved, Xiao Yulou drank again, the clear liquor soaking his black robes.

The sorrow in his heart could not be dissolved by drink. Separated by life and death, the tangled debts of love and hatred could never be unraveled.

Listening to these shocking revelations, Gu Mo began piecing together the clues.

‘This damned scruffy Daoist had a disciple? The skeleton must be Old Bridge Village’s guardian! And this Daoist named Old Iron Ox took a fatal blow for Xiao Yulou.’

There must be more stories hidden here!

Gu Mo sighed deeply, squatted beside Xiao Yulou, and handed over two imitation artifacts.

Xiao Yulou looked at Gu Mo, gripped the items tightly, and forced a bitter smile. As he opened his mouth, the scent of liquor wafted over Gu Mo.

“Brother Gu, did I truly do wrong? Ten years of sobriety ultimately harmed Old Iron Ox. Can’t this world have a little more kindness?”

He drank again, thrust the empty bottle into the earth, and howled at the sky.

“To hell with cultivation! To hell with past and present lives! I refuse to believe in this damned fate!”

Suddenly, all these emotions converged, roiling in this seemingly strong but fragile Daoist.

Gu Mo sighed and slapped Xiao Yulou hard across the face.

A crisp smack sent Xiao Yulou sprawling. The sting on his face seemed to bring him a strange comfort.

Li Hetang watched coldly from behind.

Gu Mo, his features twisted, unleashed a torrent of curses.

“You scruffy bastard, what the hell are you doing? What are you here for? The dead are gone, but the living still have hope! Instead of upholding justice, you sit here wallowing in self-pity!”

Before Xiao Yulou could sit up, Gu Mo slapped him again, sending him back to the ground.

“If you refuse to wake up, I’ll beat you until you do!”

This time, Xiao Yulou did not rise. From the mud came a heart-wrenching cry.

Sob, sob, sob…

Page 3/3