Chapter 112: The Gloomy Belly Ghost

Upon sudden realization, Bozi immediately scooped up Cui Xiaobo and dashed outside, with his wife close behind. The house’s occupants vanished in an instant. Yet, in Song Nianqiang’s mind, only one thought prevailed: “Eliminate the belly ghost!!!”

“Stand the mirror upright!!!”

As Bozi left, Song Nianqiang’s tone grew icy, brimmed with boundless fury. This tomb ghost had cornered him, leaving no recourse but to resort to desperate measures, nearly draining Cui Xiaobo dry. How could Song Nianqiang not be furious?

The young men assisting him hastily stood the mirror upright upon hearing his command. However, one positioned himself behind the mirror to brace it, fearing it might fall. This action startled Song Nianqiang. “Get away!!! Do you want to live or not standing behind the mirror?!”

Though the belly ghost was bound within the mirror, it could escape by possessing a human body. Hence, after having the mirror stood up, Song Nianqiang ordered them to keep a safe distance. He and the stout man stood beside the mirror.

Inside the mirror, the belly ghost remained a pitch-black mass, piquing Song Nianqiang’s curiosity. “Could it be naturally like this?” Although curious, he had no desire to inquire further. Taking the talisman from the stout man, he approached the mirror and pressed his hand against it.

Instantly, the ghost inside shrieked, thrashing wildly as if trying to break free. Yet, the stout man had previously sealed the mirror with a talisman, rendering all its efforts futile.

Still, Song Nianqiang could not simply kill the belly ghost outright. Trapped within the mirror, he could only threaten it. To destroy it, the ghost had to be released. Yet, he feared if let loose, they might be no match for it.

“Qiangzi, we can’t kill it now! Should we release it first?” The stout man whispered beside Song Nianqiang, who shook his head. “We know nothing of its cultivation. If we release it and can’t defeat it, what then? We could run, but what about Bozi’s family? Though not close, we accepted this job and must finish it flawlessly—no risks for our employer!”

After a glance at the stout man, who awkwardly smiled, “You’re right. What should we do now?” His attention returned fully to the ghost in the mirror.

“Red adzuki beans can restrain the belly ghost but cannot kill it. Our goal is complete eradication. I suggest fire—True Samadhi Fire!” Though Song Nianqiang could not sustain the fire long, a brief burst was possible, hence the suggestion.

The stout man pondered, then reluctantly agreed, “This might be our only option. But Qiangzi, be cautious. If we can’t finish it now, we can wait until tomorrow.” Worry lingered in his tone, though both knew they wouldn’t last till dawn. The ghost was too powerful, bound now but sure to break free soon.

Moreover, the rain outside continued to pour relentlessly; even by the next day, it wouldn’t cease, let alone the sun appear. Thus, Song Nianqiang had no choice but to summon the True Samadhi Fire.

“Remember, whatever you see today must stay buried inside you. If you speak of it, I won’t hesitate to kill you!” Before striking, Song Nianqiang warned the young men harshly. This matter was too incredible—anyone witnessing a man conjuring flames would be stunned.

The youths nodded solemnly. Song Nianqiang fixed his gaze on them, seeing resolute determination shining in their eyes before stepping to the mirror. Fingers formed seals; flames swiftly rose on his hands, their three distinct hues dazzlingly bright.

The young men stared wide-eyed, awe filling their expressions. Today, they had truly opened their eyes—beholding a living man wield fire. Could this be a cultivator? A sudden desire to apprentice stirred within them.

True Samadhi Fire was fierce, a flame that should not exist in the mortal realm yet was wielded by some. At its highest mastery, it could incinerate immortals—if such beings existed. Upon seeing the fire, the belly ghost inside the mirror shrieked, issuing a hoarse, deep voice.

“Release me! Let me out of this mirror!”

Song Nianqiang’s stern face finally curved into a smile. “Heh, so you can talk. But just because you say ‘release me’ doesn’t mean I will—where’s the honor in that?” His hands did not waver; the fire’s power intensified.

The ghost’s wails grew pitiful, but Song Nianqiang showed no sign of stopping. Yet such fierce exertion took its toll; soon fatigue crept over him.

“Stout man, take over!” Sweat beaded on his brow as his internal energy depleted. Reluctantly, he called out.

The stout man nodded, pulling out several talismans. One he placed before his forehead, shielding his eyes; the other two he wielded in each hand, charging at the mirror.

He knew better than to shatter the mirror, stopping mere centimeters from it. Though his body halted, his spirit surged inside.

The ghost noticed the newcomer immediately, realizing hostility as the stout man launched deadly attacks. Several strikes nearly ended it.

Since Song Nianqiang had paid such a heavy price to draw it out, the ghost surely had tricks of its own. It dodged the talismans and instantly transformed into a black, malleable sludge—soft and pliant like clay.

Caught off guard, the stout man found his arm ensnared. Panic struck him—unlike Song Nianqiang, he was no calm strategist, and his flustered hands betrayed him. The ghost seized the moment, wrapping his neck tightly.

Outside, Song Nianqiang watched in mounting alarm. Seeing the stout man’s neck constricted, cold sweat drenched him. He wanted to help but was powerless; only in a dire emergency would he remove the talisman shielding the stout man’s forehead.

Inside the mirror, the stout man’s face reddened, veins bulging as the black serpent-like ghost tightened its grip. Yet he steeled himself, snapping his mouth shut on the ghost’s tendril near his face, biting down hard and swallowing.

The taste was unknown but foul. Upon swallowing, a heat surged through him, followed by unbearable itching as if thousands of ants crawled beneath his skin, alongside stabbing pains. At that moment, he wished for a quick death.

The ghost, bitten, felt its energy drained in an instant. Moments before brimming with power, it now lay helpless like a child. The stark loss nearly drove it to despair.