Chapter 86: Red Threads and Candles Aged with Time

"Damn!" After hearing the explanation from the big guy, Song Nianqiang uttered a single word. This whole matter was clearly the big guy's fault—not only had he set someone up, he'd been caught red-handed, and now they had come looking for him. Such incompetence was embarrassing to Song Nianqiang.

"Mother—" Bang! "Ouch!" The fellow who was even larger than the big guy had just opened his mouth to speak, but Song Nianqiang landed a punch squarely on his nose, knocking his unfinished words right back down his throat. "Do you know why I hit you? I hate people fatter than him!" Song Nianqiang pointed at the big guy as he spoke.

What kind of nonsense is that? Did you think I wanted to be bigger than him? It's in my damn genes! Genes, do you understand? Judging by your look, you probably don't. The man crouched on the ground, clutching his nose, wishing he could say all this, but the pain was so intense, he couldn't let go.

After flooring the guy with a single punch, Song Nianqiang cracked his knuckles, ready for a fight. But unexpectedly, the group of burly men showed no intention of retaliating—they simply stood there, dazed. "Are they all masters?" Song Nianqiang couldn't figure it out. He took a step forward, and the burly men, thinking he was about to attack, all turned tail and fled.

"Uh..." Watching their frantic retreat, Song Nianqiang was speechless. In that moment, he understood a truth: not every fierce-looking person is fierce inside—just like those who had been scared off by him.

"Alright, big guy, time to get down to business." With that, Song Nianqiang took his seat and began discussing with the big guy how they would deal with the restless ghosts haunting Hua Xia Vocational High School that night.

The two took out paper and pen, sketched out their plans, and reached an agreement. Then, they prepared to buy some essential items for ghost-catching. Their supply of red string, red candles, glutinous rice, and cinnabar at home had run out, so Song Nianqiang and the big guy had to visit the flea market and black market.

"Wait for me a bit. That guy blocked me in the classroom and left me fuming. If I hadn't been waiting for you, I would've already made my move! Now I need to vent!" With that, the big guy headed toward the supermarket. Song Nianqiang could guess what he was up to without even thinking. After about ten minutes, the big guy emerged, munching on a bag of instant noodles. "I felt a bit hungry after venting, so I grabbed a pack!"

Song Nianqiang silently mourned for the supermarket for three seconds. But since the supermarket was the big guy's family business, it was only natural for him to crush the instant noodles there. Even if the big guy someday set the place ablaze, his old man could only claim it was an accident.

The black market was as chaotic as ever, bustling with noisy crowds. Bare-chested men with colorful tattoos on their backs maintained the order. Despite the mix of shady characters, no one dared forcibly buy or sell anything—such was the surface rule of the black market.

This time, Song Nianqiang intended to buy what he needed from the old man he'd visited before, but after wandering the entire market, he couldn't find him. Helpless, he went to a young man's stall, picked up a red string and examined it, then shook his head and asked, "Do you have any older stock? Spare me the nonsense."

The young man noticed that Song Nianqiang, though young, was clearly an expert in the field. His red strings were extremely convincing; only a true professional could spot the difference at a glance. This kid had seen through them immediately—he would have to take out the real goods.

"Alright, I've got the genuine article, but it's not cheap!" The young man said, pulling out a small bundle from a large iron chest. He drew out a red string, and Song Nianqiang's eyes lit up at the sight. "This is excellent—the age is just right!" The string was nearly rotten; a gentle tug would break it into pieces.

Despite their lack of toughness, such red strings were highly effective against ghosts, especially ones like these. Ordinary string wouldn't last nearly so long—only strings specially treated by ghost hunters could endure.

"And the red candle?" Carefully returning the string, Song Nianqiang asked. "Here," the youth replied, retrieving an oilcloth package from the iron chest and pulling out a yellowed candle. It radiated a faint aura of upright, righteous energy.

"Excellent! However many you have, I'll take them all!" Song Nianqiang said, elated. The young man gave a sheepish smile. "These are all collected from rural villages—there aren't many. One bundle of red strings and fifty candles cost ten thousand yuan! If the price doesn't suit you, feel free to leave. The cost for me to get these is simply too high."

There was a hint of helplessness in his tone. No matter how old the red strings and candles were, they could never fetch such a price elsewhere. But the young man risked his life to gather them from remote mountain villages—any misstep on the road could spell disaster, so he demanded a high price.

After a moment's consideration, Song Nianqiang agreed. For him, ten thousand yuan was manageable, and these aged red strings and candles were invaluable. As long as he arranged them in the places previously sealed, according to the formations recorded in "Maoshan Daoist Arts," dealing with the ghosts at Hua Xia Vocational High School wouldn't be difficult.

Of course, if Song Nianqiang wanted to resolve the situation entirely, he would have to reseal the ghosts. But he wasn't confident about that—not due to any lack of faith in his own Daoist skills, but because he doubted the previous formation's core. Normally, a sealing formation would never be broken by ghosts unless something extraordinary occurred.

One possibility was the emergence of a third type of ghost, and the person who sealed them lacked sufficient skill, allowing the ghosts to break free easily. When this happened, they would all rush out at once, not trickle out as they were now. Another possibility was that the person who sealed the ghosts deliberately left a flaw; over time, that flaw would reveal itself, and the ghosts would escape one by one.

The current situation at Hua Xia Vocational High School was clearly the latter, but Song Nianqiang couldn't fathom why someone would do that. In the ghost-catching world, reputation is everything—not even the most notorious villains break that rule. It's a fundamental principle among ghost hunters.

The big guy withdrew ten thousand yuan from the nearby ATM. After paying, Song Nianqiang carried the two bags home. Once there, he had the big guy draw several more talisman papers, as they were sure to face numerous ghosts that night. An abandoned graveyard would house plenty, and those ghosts, having endured long confinement, would stop at nothing to prevent Song Nianqiang from sealing them again.

He called the police chief, and soon a patrol car arrived at his door. The two got in and headed for Hua Xia Vocational High School. They needed a police escort because there was still a gatekeeper at the school—without an officer, they wouldn't even get inside.

Hua Xia Vocational High School, as a private institution, was well-funded, with valuable facilities—not like another private school, Lushan School, whose dilapidation was well-known. Lushan School didn't even have a playground, just a few teaching and dormitory buildings.

The police soon arrived at Hua Xia Vocational High School. The campus had been cordoned off, with burly, energetic young men patrolling in circles and two men in suits guarding the entrance.

Without the police, Song Nianqiang could guarantee that even if he got in, he couldn't carry out his work. The gatekeepers nodded in greeting to the officers—they were all local toughs, and needed good relations with the police to survive in the county.

"This entrance feels pretty sinister!" Standing at the gate, Song Nianqiang didn't rush in. He looked up at the sky. Sure enough, a dark cloud hovered above the main entrance, while the rest of the sky was clear; only here was there a patch of gloom.