Chapter 6 - 6 6 Methods to Avoid Misfortune

6: Chapter 6: Methods to Avoid Misfortune 6: Chapter 6: Methods to Avoid Misfortune “Wah, wah, wah!” The sound of crying grew more urgent with each wail. As it reached its peak, the flickering of the electric lights in the hall seemed to slow down a bit. After a few lamps went out, they would light up again after three or four seconds. The scene inside the room was like an extremely stuttering old movie, and the air was as cold as ice. Zhou Xuan felt his limbs stiffen. To ease a bit of the tension, he rubbed his fingers, but even such a small action felt clumsy. At this moment, the steady voice of the storyteller, Yun Zheyue, came from the phonograph again. His voice kindled a small fire in the ice-cold room. The flame was small and seemed dimmer than the electric lights, but it brought genuine warmth to Zhou Xuan. “The Living Doll, bolstered by the intense resentment from the mother’s womb, can grasp the Ghost Baby Technique. But it merely comprehends this Evil Skill and doesn’t quite count as a Ghost Baby.” “At most, he is a resentful child. A resentful child can be nourished with Blood Food. He is extracted from the mother’s womb and locked in a jar where fresh blood is injected daily. The fresh blood sustains him, and the child will then return wealth. In this world, many businessmen raise these children. Originally penniless and destitute, once they start nurturing a child, their fortunes surge like the mighty river, earning gold daily. In simple terms, it’s like planting a rotten watermelon in the ground, and a year later, you can harvest a small golden Buddha.” “A resentful child is like a tree, a money tree that can shake down silver strings and blossom with golden hairpin flowers. However, every root of this tree is stained with blood, and at its ends lies entrenched in White Bone skeletons. The child needs blood to be nourished!” Zhou Xuan had already picked up on what was going on. When the strange events at Luoying Hall first started to spread, he thought it might be the storyteller behind these underworld tricks. Yet now, the more he listened, the more he felt the storyteller was like an onlooker with a melon in hand, watching the drama unfold. And not a very honest onlooker at that, as if simply watching wasn’t enough, he had to narrate and indulge in the thrill of talking. Nonetheless, the storyteller’s chatter was somewhat effective. As he narrated the tale, the Living Doll clearly became less agitated and much calmer. “Originally a tree of gold, well-nurtured, it promised endless prosperity and wealth. Alas, human greed is insatiable, like a snake swallowing an elephant. Or perhaps it’s the ghostly eloquence that always bewilders the human mind. The father of the Living Doll, named Wu Yun, happened to doze off just as the child’s resentment formed. In his dream, the doll told Wu Yun, ‘Father, you underestimate my power by only seeking wealth from me. Why don’t you raise me into a Ghost Baby? In the future, I will be an extension of your own being. Whomever you want me to kill, I will kill. Whatever treasure you covet, I will help you obtain.’ If it were just a few words, Wu Yun naturally wouldn’t believe it. But in Wu Yun’s dream, the doll conjured many visions. In the dream, Wu Yun saw himself wielding control over the Ghost Baby, rampaging through Ping Shui Prefecture. Anyone he despised, he would command the Ghost Baby to kill. Any woman he fancied, he would take as a concubine. If she refused, the Ghost Baby would slaughter her entire family. This golden dream showed Wu Yun what a life reigning over life and death felt like—utterly exhilarating. When he awoke, he was no longer satisfied with just nurturing the doll into a resentful child. He wanted to cultivate a true Ghost Baby. *People in this world never learn that dealing with ghosts is even more dangerous than plotting with tigers.* *Wu Yun was unaware that he himself had become a puppet, a living dead.* *Controlling a Ghost Baby was already a fool’s errand, yet he became the legs of the Ghost Baby. Now, father and son, one human and one ghost, conspired to harm a young performer from the troupe.* *Sigh,* *the Golden Tower brings trouble, strange doors summon Evil Technique.* *Intense resentments enter the mother’s womb, and ghosts deliver messages through dreams.* *Unaware of spirits’ whereabouts, the living walk like zombies,* *the doll sits proudly in the theater, unaware of the formidable strength within the deep mansion.*” “Clap!” The gavel struck the table again. The voice from the phonograph suddenly went silent. Zhou Xuan knew the storyteller had finished. Many storytellers had a habit, when narrating their self-created tales, of ending with a judgment verse. The format of these verses wasn’t strict; they primarily summarized the story and mixed in some personal insights. Once the judgment verse was delivered, the story concluded. At this moment, the last warmth-providing flame in the room had also gone out. Without the storyteller’s interference, the Living Doll grew more restless. The cries of “Wah, wah, wah” intensified, and a line of bloody baby handprints appeared on the wall of Luoying Hall. The number of bloody handprints increased, forming a trail that stretched toward Zhou Xuan. Searᴄh the Novelƒire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. The stifling atmosphere formed a palpable wave rolling toward Zhou Xuan. *Zhou Xuan felt completely calm now. Had he realized earlier that the storyteller was just an onlooker, he might have felt a tinge of nervousness.* *Understanding the storyteller’s true role, his remaining bit of anxiety vanished.* *Having survived death once, he knew what ghosts feared.* *This deep understanding was tied to his experience of narrowly escaping possession twice after being hit by a truck.* *At the time, as a soul, he didn’t go straight to Soul Shepherd City.* *He received some sort of will, prompting him to head toward Soul Shepherd City. Along the way, he passed through bustling towns and rural areas.* *On the road, as a wandering soul, he constantly thought about how to stay alive.* *The thought of possession for rebirth lingered in his mind, unshakable, like a mouse burrowing, a spider weaving a web—an almost instinctual drive.* *That afternoon, he attempted his first possession.* *He learned then that possession wasn’t as simple as he imagined.* *Possession required entering the body of a living person. It was a delicate process, slow-moving and met with great resistance, requiring careful maneuvering and couldn’t be accomplished in one go.* *The biggest trouble was that midway through the entrance, the soul would become extremely sensitive and fragile. A little exposure to sunlight would daze it, muddling its consciousness.* *Had Zhou Xuan not pulled his head out in time and halted the possession, his soul might have dissipated completely in the light, turning into a wisp of smoke, vanishing in the human world.* *His first failed possession left him with the knowledge that ghosts feared sunlight.* *This understanding was why, upon sensing potential weirdness about to erupt in Luoying Hall, he immediately sought the courtyard.* His second failed possession occurred that night. Passing a mahjong parlor, Zhou Xuan noticed a young woman sitting on a bamboo chair, nodding off to the sound of the radio. Seeing her, his instinct for possession flared again, and he dove into her body without rational thought. Head first, then body. Without sunlight, he had ample time to complete the possession comfortably. However, as half his body entered, an endless stream of whispered murmurs flooded his mind. “Come in a little more, boo hoo, the thunder’s crashing, it’s raining, got to raise a brazier.” “Don’t just dawdle, move your hands, oh my, you turned into a man. Stop dawdling then, dive straight in, you damn astronomer.” “A bridge from when young, the wind from middle age, me when older, up and down, going forty leagues under the sea to swim.” The words in the murmurs made sense individually, but together they were nonsensical. No logic at all. One or two phrases were fine, but when thousands or tens of thousands of these nonsensical words flooded his mind, his mind shut down, unable to comprehend—it chose to play dead, lay down, and crash. Like fitting a terabyte’s worth of data into a megabyte of storage, the little pony pulling the train couldn’t move an inch; no matter how strong the servitude tendencies of the pony were, it would lay down. Even now, Zhou Xuan couldn’t recall how he escaped the dreamscape, but whenever he thought back to those countless murmurs, his physiological reactions surfaced. After this experience, Zhou Xuan understood that ghosts feared dreams. On the remaining journey to Soul Shepherd City, he encountered many ghosts similarly summoned on their way to Soul Shepherd City. Among them were experienced old ghosts. Through interactions, Zhou Xuan gained new insights into “ghost entering dreams.” Ghosts weren’t entirely forbidden from entering the dreams of living people, but once inside, they couldn’t be aggressive, at least not overtly. Otherwise, they’d face the endless whispers. Once entangled by the dream whispers, they would slowly become part of the dreamscape, unable to escape for eternity. The crux of ghosts sending dreams lay in the act of sending—you had to be polite, exhibit goodwill, and only then would the dreamscape open up a pathway for interaction with the dream’s owner. The Living Doll was so fierce, yet it couldn’t claim Wu Yun’s life in his dreams. Instead, it resorted to temptation, exhibiting beautiful dreams, to deceive Wu Yun. Of course, those who interacted with Zhou Xuan belonged to the Ghost Realm’s “pitiful group,” the pure novices. For some genuinely advanced ghosts, who were perhaps not afraid of the dreams of the living, he wasn’t certain. Thus, when he initially thought the storyteller was the one causing him harm, a sliver of uncertainty lingered. The storyteller’s dialogue suggested a person with Dao Level—what if he had a way to counter the dreams? But now, confirming the perpetrator was the Living Doll, it became much simpler. The doll had only recently come of age—what level of Dao could it possess? “Sleep.” The row of handprints neared Zhou Xuan. He stretched leisurely, yawned, and lay down on the ground. He lay straight, flipping a middle finger at the Living Doll’s handprints. “Heh heh, if you’re brave, come find me in my dreams,” and with eyes closed, he began to snore. Falling asleep easily had always been one of Zhou Xuan’s strengths. The wails of “wah, wah, wah” reached a crescendo, each cry accompanied by a sharp, piercing shriek. Beyond the despair and savagery, there was a hint of impotent rage. At that moment, a graceful shadow of a woman appeared out of nowhere on the north wall of Luoying Hall. The shadow gazed curiously at the deeply sleeping Zhou Xuan: “At such a time, the Young Master could still fall asleep?” … Using sleep to evade ghosts wasn’t considered an optimal method. First, being able to fall asleep when haunted by a ghost itself was a difficult feat. One needed a strong mindset and typically good sleep quality. With any insomnia or nervous exhaustion, even sleeping under normal circumstances was tough; at such times, it would be even more challenging. And, being human, everyone eventually wakes up… Zhou Xuan wasn’t worried; he just needed to sleep for a few hours, and master wife’s elder sister Xu Li would come looking for him. Once Xu Li arrived, he would be saved. He slept soundly, having only snored a few times before he began to dream. He dreamed of lying inside a White Canopy Boat, cruising on an inky black river. The boat was enormous, its interior luxuriously decorated. The surface of the cabinets and low tables gleamed with lacquer, smooth and polished, showcasing meticulous craftsmanship. On the low table, there was a cup of liquor with a rich aroma. Feeling parched, Zhou Xuan reached for the drink, about to take a sip. But as he brought the glass to his lips, he saw the liquid change from colorless to viscous, turning crimson before solidifying. When he shook the cup, the blood-like substance had a certain elasticity, resembling a liver freshly extracted from the abdomen. A strong rusty stench surged into Zhou Xuan’s nose. Repulsed, he set the cup back down, but the nauseating scent quickly saturated the air. Overwhelming with stench, reeking like raw meat, the repulsive odor filled the cabin…