Wei Wuxian instinctively loosened his grip. Just as the oil lamp was about to crash to the ground, he swiftly rescued it, deftly striking it against the still-burning fire talisman in his other hand to light it. He placed it gently on the table and said with an air of nonchalance, "Did you make all these yourself, old lady? Quite the craftsmanship."

It was only then that the group realized the room was filled not with people, but with an array of paper figures.

These paper dolls were meticulously crafted to be the same size as real people, with intricate details in their faces and bodies. There were men, women, and even children among them. The male figures were all "Yin warriors," fashioned to be tall and muscular with fierce expressions, their paper hair seeming to stand on end in rage. The female figures were beautiful, some with twin buns, others with elaborate cloud-like hairstyles. Even beneath their voluminous paper robes, one could discern graceful figures. The patterns on their garments were even more exquisite than those on real brocade gowns.

Some of the figures were painted in vivid colors - deep reds and vibrant greens - while others remained stark white, awaiting their hues. Each paper face bore two bright spots of rouge on the cheeks, a macabre attempt at mimicking the flush of life. But their eyes were the most unsettling feature - white and blank, as if the creator hadn't had time to dot in the pupils. The brighter the rouge, the more ghastly they appeared.

In the main hall stood another table, upon which several candles of varying lengths were arranged. Wei Wuxian lit them one by one, their yellow light illuminating most of the room. Besides the paper figures, two large funeral wreaths were positioned on either side of the hall. In the corners, paper ingots, spirit money, and pagodas were piled high like small mountains.

Jin Ling, who had already drawn his sword partway out of its sheath, visibly relaxed upon realizing it was merely a shop selling funeral supplies. He sheathed his weapon fully. Coming from cultivator clans, they were unaccustomed to the messy, eerie displays common in folk funerals. After their initial shock, curiosity took over. The scene before them sent shivers down their spines, yet they found it more thrilling than their usual night hunts against ordinary demons.

Even the thickest fog couldn't penetrate the interior of the house. For the first time since entering Yi City, they could clearly see each other's faces, which brought a sense of comfort. Noticing their relaxed state, Wei Wuxian turned to the old woman and asked, "May we borrow your kitchen?"

The old woman seemed to despise the light, glaring at the oil lamp with almost palpable malice. "Kitchen's in the back. Use it yourself," she spat, before retreating to another room as if fleeing from a plague. The sound of her slamming the door was so loud it made everyone flinch.

Jin Ling muttered, "This old hag is definitely suspicious! You-"

Wei Wuxian cut him off, "Enough of that. I need some help. Who's coming with me?"

Lan Sizhui quickly volunteered, "I'll go."

Lan Jingyi, still standing rigidly upright, asked, "What about me? What should I do?"

"Keep standing there," Wei Wuxian replied. "If I didn't tell you to move, don't move."

Lan Sizhui followed Wei Wuxian to the kitchen at the back of the house. As soon as they entered, a wave of putrid, moldy stench hit them full force. Lan Sizhui, who had never encountered such a revolting smell in his life, felt dizzy but managed to hold his ground without fleeing. Jin Ling, who had trailed after them, jumped back out as soon as he stepped in, frantically fanning the air in front of his face.

"What in the world is that smell?!" Jin Ling exclaimed. "Instead of finding a way to neutralize the poison, you're messing around in here? What are you up to?"

Wei Wuxian replied cheerfully, "Oh? You came at just the right time. How did you know I was going to call you over? Come on, help out."

Jin Ling retorted, "I didn't come to help! Ugh! Did someone kill a person in here and forget to bury them?!"

Wei Wuxian teased, "Well, Young Mistress Jin, are you coming in or not? If you're in, come help. If not, go back and sit down, and I'll call someone else."

Jin Ling exploded with anger, "Who are you calling Young Mistress Jin?! Watch your mouth!" He pinched his nose, wavering between entering and leaving. Finally, he huffed, "Fine, I'll see what nonsense you're up to." With that, he stomped into the kitchen, seething.

To everyone's horror, Wei Wuxian flung open a chest on the floor, revealing the source of the foul odor. Inside lay a pig's leg and a chicken, their once-red flesh now a sickly green, with pale maggots writhing in the decay.

The sight drove Jin Ling back out of the kitchen once more. Wei Wuxian lifted the chest and handed it to him, saying, "Dispose of this, will you? Anywhere is fine, just make sure we can't smell it anymore."

Feeling nauseous and suspicious, Jin Ling complied, tossing the chest away before furiously scrubbing his hands with a handkerchief, which he then discarded as well. When he returned to the kitchen, he was surprised to find Wei Wuxian and Lan Sizhui had drawn two buckets of water from the well in the backyard and were busy cleaning the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" Jin Ling asked, bewildered.

Lan Sizhui, diligently scrubbing away, replied, "As you can see, we're cleaning the stove."

Jin Ling frowned, "Why clean the stove? It's not like we're going to cook anything."

"Who says we're not?" Wei Wuxian countered. "That's exactly what we're going to do. Here, take this duster and get rid of those cobwebs up there."

Wei Wuxian spoke with such conviction and casualness that Jin Ling found himself holding a feather duster before he knew it, and began sweeping away cobwebs in a daze. As he swept, he grew increasingly confused about why he was doing this. Just as he was about to throw the duster at Wei Wuxian's head, the older cultivator opened another chest, sending Jin Ling scrambling out of the kitchen once more. Fortunately, this time there was no foul odor.

The three worked quickly, and soon the kitchen was transformed. It finally had a semblance of being lived in, rather than resembling an abandoned haunted house. They found a pile of pre-cut firewood in the corner, which they stacked in the stove and lit with a fire talisman. They placed a large, freshly-cleaned pot on top and set water to boil.

Wei Wuxian emptied a heap of glutinous rice from the second chest, washed it thoroughly, and added it to the pot.

"Porridge?" Jin Ling asked incredulously.

"Mm-hmm," Wei Wuxian confirmed.

Jin Ling threw down his cleaning cloth in frustration. Wei Wuxian chided him, "Look at you, getting angry after just a bit of work. See how hard Sizhui is working without complaint? What's wrong with porridge anyway?"

"What's good about porridge? It's just water and rice!" Jin Ling snapped. Then he caught himself, "Wait, that's not the point! I'm not angry because of the porridge!"

Wei Wuxian shrugged, "Well, it's not for you anyway."

This enraged Jin Ling further, "What did you say?! I've been working all this time and I don't even get any?!"

Lan Sizhui interjected thoughtfully, "Master Wei, is it possible that the porridge can counteract corpse poisoning?"

Wei Wuxian smiled, "Indeed it can, but it's not the porridge itself - it's the glutinous rice. It's an old folk remedy. Usually, you'd apply the rice directly to wounds from bites or scratches. If you ever encounter such a situation in the future, give it a try. It'll hurt, but it's incredibly effective. However, in their case, they inhaled the corpse poison powder, so drinking the porridge is the best we can do."

Lan Sizhui's eyes lit up with understanding, "So that's why you insisted on entering a house, and one that seemed inhabited. Only a lived-in place would likely have a kitchen, and only a kitchen might have glutinous rice."

Jin Ling, still skeptical, pointed out, "Who knows how long this rice has been here? Is it even edible? And this kitchen clearly hasn't been used in at least a year - it was covered in dust, and the meat was rotten. How has that old woman survived if she hasn't been cooking? It's not like she could practice inedia."

Wei Wuxian stirred the porridge, adding various ingredients from jars and bottles he found around the kitchen. "Either this house has been uninhabited all along, and she's not really the shopkeeper," he mused, "or she doesn't need to eat."

Lan Sizhui lowered his voice, "If she doesn't need to eat, wouldn't that mean she's... dead? But the old lady was clearly breathing."

Wei Wuxian nodded, then changed the subject, "By the way, you two haven't finished explaining. How did you end up in Yi City together? It can't be a coincidence that you ran into us here, right?"

The two young cultivators' expressions immediately turned grave. Jin Ling spoke first, "Me, some people from the Lan sect, and a few from other clans - we were all chasing after something. I followed it here from Qinghe." Lan Sizhui added, "We pursued it from Langya."

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

"What were you chasing?" Wei Wuxian asked.

Lan Sizhui shook his head, "We don't know. It never showed itself. We're not sure if it's an object, a person... or even an organization."

Jin Ling then recounted his experience. Days earlier, after helping Wei Wuxian escape and fearing retribution from his uncle Jiang Cheng, he had decided to disappear for a while. He left Zidian with a trusted subordinate and set out to find a new night-hunting location.

In a small town near the border of Qinghe, he stayed at a large inn. Late one night, as he was reciting incantations in his room, his spiritual dog Fairy suddenly began barking at the door. Jin Ling tried to quiet her, but then heard a knock. Fairy stopped barking but remained agitated, her claws scratching at the floor as she growled lowly.

Feeling uneasy, Jin Ling called out to ask who was there, but received no response. He ignored it, but half an hour later, the knocking resumed.

Cautiously, Jin Ling and Fairy climbed out the window, circling around to approach from behind, hoping to catch the mysterious visitor off guard. But they found no one. They kept watch quietly for a while, but still saw no one near his door.

Jin Ling remained vigilant, positioning Fairy to guard the door while he stayed awake all night, ready to confront any intruder. Nothing happened, but he kept hearing an odd dripping sound.

The next morning, screams erupted from outside his room. Jin Ling kicked the door open, stepping into a pool of blood. Something fell from above the door, nearly hitting him as he dodged.

It was a black cat!

Someone had nailed a dead cat above his door during the night. The strange dripping he'd heard had been the cat's blood.

"The same thing happened at several inns," Jin Ling explained. "So I started actively pursuing it, investigating any reports of mysteriously appearing dead cats. I was determined to catch whoever was behind this."

Wei Wuxian turned to Lan Sizhui, "And you experienced something similar?"

Lan Sizhui nodded, his face grave. "That's correct. A few days ago, several of us were night-hunting in Langya. One evening during dinner, we suddenly fished a cat's head out of our soup... it hadn't even been skinned." He shuddered at the memory. "At first, we weren't sure if it was targeting us specifically, but that night when we changed inns, we found another cat carcass hidden in the bedding. This continued for several days. We pursued the trail to Yueyang, where we encountered Young Master Jin and discovered we were investigating the same incident. We decided to join forces. It was only today that we traced it to this area. In a village near a stone monument, we asked a hunter for directions, and he pointed us towards Yi City."

Wei Wuxian's mind raced. "A hunter?" he thought to himself. The young cultivators must have passed through the village by the stone monument later than he and Lan Wangji had. When they had been there, they hadn't seen any hunters - only a few shy farm girls tending to chickens, who had said the men of the village were away transporting goods and wouldn't be back for a while.

The more Wei Wuxian pondered, the more grave his expression became.

From what he'd heard, apart from killing cats and leaving their corpses, the mysterious entity hadn't taken any other actions. While it sounded and looked terrifying, the young cultivators hadn't actually been harmed. If anything, these incidents had only piqued their curiosity and determination to get to the bottom of the mystery.

Moreover, the fact that the young cultivators had met up in Yueyang, the same place from which Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji had traveled south towards Eastern Shu, made it seem as though someone was deliberately guiding both groups to converge.

Luring a group of naive young cultivators to a dangerous, unknown location to face the violent remains of a fierce corpse - wasn't this exactly the same pattern as the incident at the Mo family's residence?

But that wasn't even the most complicated part. What Wei Wuxian was most wary of now was... the Yin Tiger Seal. There was a possibility it was here in Yi City.

Although Wei Wuxian himself was reluctant to accept this possibility, it seemed the most logical explanation. After all, if someone capable of restoring even half of the Yin Tiger Seal's fragments existed - even if they had reportedly been dealt with - who knew where the restored seal might have ended up?

Just then, Lan Sizhui, who was crouched by the stove fanning the flames, looked up and said, "Master Mo, I think the glutinous rice porridge is ready?"

Wei Wuxian snapped out of his thoughts and stopped stirring. He took a bowl that Lan Sizhui had washed earlier, ladled out a spoonful, and tasted it. "It's done," he confirmed. "Take it out there. One bowl each for those who were poisoned. Help them eat it."

However, after just one mouthful, Lan Jingyi spluttered, "What is this, poison?!"

Wei Wuxian retorted, "What poison? This is the antidote! Glutinous rice porridge."

Lan Jingyi protested, "Even if we accept that glutinous rice is somehow an antidote, I've never had porridge this spicy before!"

The others who had tasted it nodded in agreement, their eyes watering. Wei Wuxian rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Having grown up in Yunmeng, where people could handle extremely spicy food, Wei Wuxian's taste buds were particularly tolerant of heat. Whenever he cooked, it was usually so spicy that even Jiang Cheng would curse and throw his bowl away, complaining it was inedible. But Wei Wuxian could never resist adding spoonful after spoonful of spices to the pot, and it seemed he had once again failed to restrain himself.

Curious, Lan Sizhui took a small sip from his own bowl. His face immediately turned red as he struggled not to spit it out. His eyes watered as he thought to himself, "This taste... it's terrifyingly familiar somehow..."

Wei Wuxian defended his creation, "All medicine is a little bit poison. The spiciness will make you sweat, helping you recover faster."

The young cultivators exchanged skeptical looks, but grudgingly finished their porridge. Soon, everyone was flushed and sweating profusely, looking thoroughly miserable. Wei Wuxian couldn't help but say, "Is it really that bad? Hanguang-jun is from Gusu too, and he can handle spicy food just fine. Why are you all so weak?"

Lan Sizhui, still covering his mouth, managed to say, "That's not true, Master Wei. Hanguang-jun prefers very mild flavors. He never eats spicy food..."

Wei Wuxian froze for a moment. "Is that so?"

He recalled that in his previous life, after he had left the Jiang Clan of Yunmeng, he had met Lan Wangji once in Yiling. At that time, although Wei Wuxian was somewhat notorious, he wasn't yet universally reviled. So, he had shamelessly invited Lan Wangji to have a meal together for old times' sake. Lan Wangji had ordered dishes covered in Sichuan peppercorns, leading Wei Wuxian to assume their tastes were similar.

Now that he thought about it, he couldn't remember if Lan Wangji had actually eaten any of those dishes. Then again, he had even forgotten that Lan Wangji had paid for the meal after Wei Wuxian had offered to treat him, so it wasn't surprising that he'd forgotten such details.

For some reason, at that moment, he desperately wanted to see Lan Wangji's face.

"Master Mo? Master Mo!"

"Hm?" Wei Wuxian snapped back to reality. Lan Sizhui whispered, "The old lady's door... it's open."

A gust of cold wind had blown the door to the small room ajar. It creaked open and closed intermittently. The room beyond was pitch black, but they could make out a hunched figure sitting at a table. Wei Wuxian gestured for the others to stay put as he approached the room.

The dim light from the oil lamp and candles in the main hall filtered into the room. The old woman sat with her head bowed, seemingly unaware of Wei Wuxian's presence. She had a piece of cloth stretched on an embroidery hoop on her lap, her stiff hands pressed together as she attempted to thread a needle.

Wei Wuxian sat down at the table beside her. "Why are you trying to thread a needle in the dark, old one? Let me help you with that."

He took the needle and thread, easily slipping the thread through the eye of the needle in one smooth motion. He handed it back to the old woman, then casually walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. "Nobody else go in there," he instructed.

Jin Ling demanded, "When you went in just now, did you see if that old hag is dead or alive?"

Wei Wuxian admonished, "Don't call her an old hag. It's disrespectful. This old lady... she's a living corpse."

The young cultivators exchanged bewildered looks. Lan Sizhui asked, "What do you mean by a living corpse?"

Wei Wuxian explained, "It's when a body exhibits all the characteristics of a corpse, and yet the person is somehow still alive. That's what we call a living corpse."

Jin Ling exclaimed in shock, "You're saying she's still alive?!"

Wei Wuxian countered with questions of his own. "Did you all look inside the room just now? What did you see? What was she doing?"

"Threading a needle," they replied.

"Did she manage to thread it?"

"...No."

"Exactly. She couldn't. Dead muscles are too stiff to perform complex actions like threading a needle. The marks on her face aren't age spots - they're livor mortis. And while she doesn't need to eat, she can still breathe. She's alive."

Lan Sizhui, still trying to process this information, offered, "But... but she's very old. Many elderly women have poor eyesight and struggle to thread needles."

Wei Wuxian nodded. "That's why I helped her. But did you notice something else? From the moment I opened the door until I left, she didn't blink once."

The young cultivators blinked rapidly in response. Wei Wuxian continued, "Living people blink to keep their eyes from drying out. The dead don't need to. Also, when I took the needle and thread from her, did anyone notice how she looked at me?"

Jin Ling realized, "She didn't move her eyes... she turned her whole head!"

"Exactly," Wei Wuxian confirmed. "Normally, when a person looks in another direction, their eyeballs move at least a little. But the dead can't perform such delicate movements. They can only turn their head and neck."

Lan Jingyi, still in shock, asked, "Should we be taking notes on this?"

Wei Wuxian smiled. "That's a good habit. But when you're night-hunting, you won't have time to flip through notes. Keep it in your memory."

Jin Ling gritted his teeth. "Walking corpses are creepy enough. Why do living corpses have to exist too?"

Wei Wuxian's expression turned grim. "Living corpses rarely form naturally. They're usually created by someone. This one certainly was."

"Created? Why would anyone do that?!" the young cultivators exclaimed in unison.

Wei Wuxian explained, "Dead bodies have many disadvantages: stiff muscles, slow movements, and so on. But they also have some advantages: they feel no pain, can't think for themselves, and are easy to control. Some people thought they could improve on the disadvantages and create perfect corpse puppets. That's how living corpses came to be."

The young cultivators didn't need to say it aloud; their faces clearly showed what they were thinking: "This person must be Wei Wuxian!"

Wei Wuxian couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry. In his mind, he protested, "I never made anything like this!"

Although he had to admit, it did sound like something he might have done.

He cleared his throat. "Well, yes, Wei Wuxian was the first to attempt something like this. But he succeeded in creating Wen Ning, the Ghost General. By the way, who came up with that stupid nickname? Anyway, some others tried to imitate his work but couldn't quite manage it. They took the wrong path and started experimenting on living people, resulting in these living corpses." He concluded, "They're failed imitations, essentially."

At the mention of Wei Wuxian's name, Jin Ling's expression hardened. He scoffed, "Wei Ying himself was already on the wrong path."

Wei Wuxian nodded sagely. "Mm-hmm, so those who create living corpses are on the wrong path of the wrong path."

Lan Sizhui, ever practical, asked, "Master Mo, what should we do now?"

Wei Wuxian replied, "Some living corpses might not realize they're dead. I think this old lady is quite confused about her situation, so it's best if we don't disturb her for now."

Just then, a clear, sharp sound of a bamboo pole striking the ground pierced the air.

The sound came from just outside one of the windows, which was boarded up with black wooden planks. All the young cultivators in the main hall paled. They had been haunted by this sound ever since entering the city, and hearing it again filled them with dread. Wei Wuxian gestured for them to remain silent. They held their breath as they watched him approach the window and peer through a narrow gap between the wooden boards.

As Wei Wuxian leaned in close to the gap, all he could see was white. At first, he thought it was just the dense fog outside obscuring his view. Suddenly, the whiteness retreated rapidly.

What he saw next made his blood run cold. A pair of grotesque, pupilless white eyes were staring malevolently through the crack. The white he had seen wasn't fog at all, but these horrifying eyeballs pressed against the gap.