Chapter Eight: The Ghost Tree

Ever since that so-called master took up residence in our home, the chickens, ducks, dogs, and pigs gradually disappeared. But what truly unsettled everyone was the solitary woman from the chicken farm at the east end of the village, who was found mysteriously dead in her own chicken shed. Her death was not what alarmed us most—it was the manner of her passing. Her face bore an ominous expression, her long hair had turned a striking red, and she was dressed in an ancient, milky-white robe.

When I heard this, my heart skipped a beat. If it were true, then it must surely be the woman I dreamt of last night.

Wang Dabao continued, saying the incident was so peculiar that, since the master was still staying at his house, he went to consult him. The master claimed it was a case of “Heaven’s shadow and Earth’s bane,” that the woman was an ancient corpse and needed a water burial.

The master displayed his skills, and with his authoritative words, the villagers believed him as if he were divine. They obeyed his instructions without question. First, he crafted a simple coffin out of peach wood. Then, using a cinnabar pen, he wrote and drew upon the corpse, finally lodging the pen deep into the woman’s mouth.

The master then proposed building a large reservoir at the Spirit Spring. For easier water access, he suggested constructing six petal-like water pits beneath the reservoir. According to him, this would form a man-made dry lotus. If the woman were buried at the lotus’s center, she would never rise again. Though such practices were officially discouraged and dismissed as superstition, most villagers, being farmers, still believed wholeheartedly.

Thus, following the master’s instructions, the Spirit Spring reservoir we saw last night was built. Over time, its water proved excellent, attracting several water companies. Wang Dabao, intent on serving the village, eventually chose one.

For years, nothing unusual happened. Only today, when Zhao Fifteen and I inquired about the matter, did Wang Dabao recount the story and ask if something had happened again.

Zhao Fifteen didn’t elaborate. He simply led Wang Dabao beneath the reservoir, crouched down, scooped up a handful of earth, and held it to Wang Dabao’s nose. Wang Dabao recoiled immediately and spat.

“What on earth is this… Master Zhao…?”

“This is the Spirit Spring you speak of. If I’m not mistaken, the entire area within a mile has become a land of decay.”

What?

Wang Dabao was skeptical. He strode forward, grabbed a handful of moist soil, and his face instantly turned ashen.

“Could it really be as the master once warned—that if the corpse changes, everyone in the village will die?”

Hearing Wang Dabao’s words, both Zhao Fifteen and I showed a trace of doubt. I asked, “What did the Yin-Yang master say when the woman was buried?”

“He said… he said it was all fate. All he could do was exploit the loopholes of destiny. If one day the Spirit Spring turns into a shadow spring, it will mark the end of our village.”

At that, my expression changed drastically. Frankly, I never saw how building the reservoir protected the village, and from the start, I felt that master was strange—he belonged among the villains in my mind.

Zhao Fifteen suddenly moved, darting swiftly around the reservoir before finally stopping atop it. He formed a hand seal, scanning left and right for a long time.

His brow furrowed, and he sped toward a pond shaded by several large trees.

I hurried after him, and when I saw what lay before me, I was astonished.

The pond had been destroyed. Above it hung a huge water pipe, draining the reservoir’s water. Around the ruined pond, two massive, unnamed trees had grown.

“What is this place?”

Wang Dabao explained, “This is where the water plant draws from. Our Spirit Spring has excellent quality and abundant supply, so a single pipe suffices for the plant. As for these two big trees, I hadn’t noticed them before—this area used to be open, so they must have grown in recent years.”

Recent years?

My heart gave a sudden jolt.

Any fool could see these trees hadn’t grown in just a few years; they must be at least several decades old.

What did that mean?

“Grandpa Zhao, what kind of tree is this?”

I stared for a long time, but couldn’t recognize it. Zhao Fifteen stood there, gazing at the broken pond, then gave a bitter smile. “These are ghost trees. As their name suggests, they thrive on murderous and ghostly energies. Such trees only grow in places of deep cold and shadow, and as a rule, shouldn’t appear here. For them to be so thick, only some powerful shadowy force could have managed it. If my guess is right, the woman buried at the lotus’s center has now become a true water corpse.”

“Water corpse?”

Both Wang Dabao and I exclaimed in shock. I mentioned the water corpse because I knew the Three Corpses Resurgence Array required three bodies, one of which must be a water corpse. The Nine Fiends of the Jewel Tower—if completed—would have produced a fiend corpse.

Wang Dabao’s outcry, on the other hand, was because of the master’s words years ago.

“When the Feng Shui array is broken, heaven’s course returns, and within fate, the water corpse emerges!”

Hearing Wang Dabao’s quiet recitation, my heart trembled violently.

Zhao Fifteen strode to the Spirit Spring reservoir, advanced three steps, and without a word, drew a peach wood sword from his back, thrusting it forcefully into the ground beneath his feet. Instantly, I could feel the earth emit a sizzling sound as a foul stench spread.

“Master Zhao, what is this…?”

Zhao Fifteen’s face was grave. “Just as the Yin-Yang master once said, when the Feng Shui array is broken, heaven’s course returns, and within fate, the water corpse emerges! The Spirit Spring is no longer a spirit spring, but a dead spring. And on the night of the full moon, I fear, the water corpse will break free.”