Chapter Four: The First Battle with a Ghost

Another day dawned, and the two woke from their slumber. Song Nianqiang pulled out his rare edition phone to check the time—it was already half past nine. He thought to himself that knockoff phones were truly impressive; even several hundred yuan flashlights were already out of power, yet his phone remained formidable.

“Let’s go! Hopefully, we’ll find a way out!” he said.

Fatty drank the last mouthful of water from his bottle, tossed it aside, and walked alongside Song Nianqiang. There was no other way—Fatty’s flashlight was dead, and he certainly didn’t want to stumble forward in darkness behind.

Their luck today was astonishing; after walking for barely ten minutes, they managed to find a small house, its lights still glowing inside. “Damn! Finally, I see a light!” Fatty rushed toward the cabin first, but just as he was about to push open the door, the handle suddenly turned into a human hand.

“Mother of—!” Fatty shrieked, stumbling back in terror. Song Nianqiang approached, asking, “What happened, Fatty?” Seeing Fatty’s terrified face, Song Nianqiang inquired further.

“I just grabbed a human hand!” Fatty swallowed hard, hardly believing what he’d just touched. Song Nianqiang frowned at his words. Although Fatty often exaggerated, Song Nianqiang had never doubted his words—especially at times like this.

“Let me take a look!” Song Nianqiang cautiously approached the door and gently pushed it open. Immediately, a chilling, eerie laughter echoed from within the tiny house. But Song Nianqiang didn’t retreat; his nerves had grown numb to ghosts by now—he’d seen too much.

A woman dressed in red was hanging from the beam inside, her long tongue protruding, her face twisted and waxy yellow, her dead fish eyes glaring out. A gust of wind from nowhere caused the hanging corpse to sway gently.

“A vengeful spirit,” Song Nianqiang said, recalling what he’d learned these past three weeks. “If this woman hadn’t died by hanging, she would’ve been quite beautiful.” Fatty came forward to examine the corpse, muttering this observation. Song Nianqiang broke out in a cold sweat at Fatty’s remark. “Get a grip! Now’s not the time for your dirty thoughts,” he said sternly.

“I wonder how powerful this ghost is.” Song Nianqiang and Fatty retreated from the house; if they didn’t deal with the female ghost, it was best not to linger. “Let’s set the place on fire!” Fatty suggested, but Song Nianqiang rolled his eyes. “Great, did you bring a lighter?” he joked.

“I was just saying.” Fatty, caught off guard, fell silent. Just then, as they discussed how to deal with the ghost, an eerie, mournful laughter echoed out, and the rope suspending the female corpse snapped with a sharp crack.

But the corpse didn’t fall to the ground; it floated directly toward Song Nianqiang and Fatty. “Holy crap! It’s coming back to life!” Fatty shouted, hiding behind Song Nianqiang. Right then, Song Nianqiang recalled the rudimentary ritual he’d learned that night; he formed a hand seal and shouted, “Five Thunder Mantra!”

The Five Thunder Mantra was the first offensive spell recorded in the Maoshan Taoist techniques. Song Nianqiang hadn’t mastered much, but he learned this one quickly. Though he hadn’t grasped the essence, he’d picked up the basics overnight. Blue lightning appeared before him, but it missed the ghost, nearly electrocuting Song Nianqiang himself.

“Hit the target before you cast!” Fatty shouted from behind.

“Shut up!” Song Nianqiang retorted. He quickly bent out of the way, and the female ghost floated past him, but Fatty failed to react and was pinned beneath her.

“Help me, Nianqiang!” Face to face with the ghost, Fatty promptly vomited the water he’d just drunk; the female ghost was simply too hideous. Yet, after tackling Fatty, the ghost showed no further action; in truth, it was Fatty thrashing wildly beneath her.

“Five Thunder Mantra! Strike!” In the midst of the crisis, Song Nianqiang cast the spell again. This time, he fared better, but still missed his target. Seeing Fatty in grave danger, Song Nianqiang grew desperate; abandoning ritual, he rushed forward, grabbed the ghost by the shoulders, and delivered a spinning kick that sent her flying.

“Thank goodness my nerves are tough! Otherwise, that dead woman would’ve disgusted me to death!” Fatty spat forward and patted his broad chest. “Glad you’re okay!” Song Nianqiang, seeing Fatty still lively, finally relaxed.

The female ghost, kicked aside, was not yet subdued. She continued to lunge at Song Nianqiang. “Fatty, hand-to-hand combat!” Song Nianqiang shouted, using a phrase only the two understood. Fatty nodded, charging at the ghost; Song Nianqiang followed, springing forward like an arrow.

Fatty reached the ghost first, bent down and grabbed her ankle, yanking hard and pulling her to the ground. Song Nianqiang rushed in and delivered a powerful kick to her head; with a crack, he sent her skull flying.

“Oh yeah!” They exchanged a high-five, thinking this would finish the ghost, but they’d forgotten one thing: this was a ghost, not a human. Even without a head, she wouldn’t die.

“Damn, Nianqiang—she’s still not dead!” At this point, their fear had vanished, replaced by a look of righteous resolve. Song Nianqiang glanced at the ghost’s body—it was indeed still moving. “Damn it! She can really take a beating. Let’s tear her apart!” Like a general commanding an army, Fatty’s words signaled instant action.

Without hesitation, Fatty grabbed the ghost’s ankle and yanked her down again. Song Nianqiang strode over, seized her arm, and pulled hard—ripping it off along with her sleeve. Then followed the other arm, a leg, then the other leg. In no time, the ghost was torn limb from limb.

“Damn, try coming back to life now!” Fatty, venting the frustration of being pinned by the ghost, stomped hard on the corpse, crushing in her chest.

“Just to be sure, Nianqiang, hit her with another Five Thunder Mantra!” Fatty called out, and Song Nianqiang was already preparing. “Five Thunder Mantra!” This time, he didn’t miss, striking the mangled corpse directly.

“Haha—now we can finally check out the house!” Using the dim light inside, Fatty looked around; the ghost was nowhere to be seen, and he happily entered the cabin.

“Wait for me!” Earlier, Song Nianqiang had spotted food inside; if he didn’t hurry, Fatty would claim it all. He quickly chased after Fatty’s shadow.

“I’ve never seen anyone catch ghosts like this!” Watching Fatty and Song Nianqiang from the big screen, the old man laughed heartily. These two defied convention; perhaps, in time, they would help him fulfill his lifelong dream—to become master ghost hunters.

“Not bad! Didn’t expect to enjoy a hot meal here! Ha, truly one of life’s great pleasures!” Fatty held a large bowl, its contents steaming, though it was unclear what exactly.

“Once we’re full, let’s get some sleep—we still have to finish our training.” Reclining in an armchair, picking his teeth, Song Nianqiang spoke to Fatty, his eyes half-closed.