After death, even if a corpse transforms, it’s impossible for it to speak—let alone when the head is missing. The situation was so bizarre that even Zhang Qing, a seasoned exorcist, stood there in complete shock, his mouth open but no words coming out, as though something was lodged in his throat.

"Grandpa... time is running out. Listen carefully to what I’m about to say," came my grandfather’s voice again from the lifeless body. The tone was calm, but chilling in its unnaturalness.

"First, you need to make one hundred million in three years, then on the next Ghost Festival, burn that one hundred million in cash for me. Only then will I be able to return."

"Second, if your parents come looking for you, you must find a way to kill them and burn their bodies. Don’t hesitate."

"Third, before you were born, I made a bet with someone over the child in his wife’s belly. If the child was a boy, that boy would serve you without complaint. If it was a girl, she would become your wife. Fortunately, the woman gave birth to twins. You must take both. That man’s name is Zhao Donglai, and he lives in Zhonghai City. Remember, continuing the Tang family’s lineage is a top priority."

"Fourth, you need to shut down this tattoo shop in the village, then go to Zhonghai City. I had a shop there too. The key and address are in the black box under the bed. If you need ghost tattoo ink, find Hong Wu, who runs the crematorium in Zhonghai. With the skills I’ve taught you, making one hundred million in three years should be easy."

"Fifth, today I’m paying off a debt from many years ago. However, to save you, I’ve only paid half of it. You will need to pay the rest. Don’t worry about finding them; the creditors will come to you."

Once Grandpa finished speaking, his headless body began to move forward. No matter how much I called out to him, he never turned around.

At that moment, a strong gust of wind howled. I watched as many figures began to line up behind Grandpa’s body, moving slowly forward. They were all dressed in mourning clothes, some with hair disheveled, others still wearing shrouds. Despite the darkness, I could make out their faces—pale as paper, hauntingly twisted.

For a moment, I thought I was hallucinating, but when I blinked, Grandpa and the figures had vanished into thin air. I wanted to chase after them, but Zhang Qing grabbed me by the arm, pulling me back into the shop.

"Don’t go outside," Zhang Qing said urgently. "The evil spirits have been taken away, but there are still some lost souls lingering out there. It’s not safe."

He was right. Despite the eerie calm, I could still see a few black shadows darting in and out of the corners outside. They weren’t fully formed, just drifting, like wandering spirits. But with Zhang Qing here, they dared not enter.

The night passed slowly, the eerie feeling lingering in the air. By dawn, the shadows had dissipated, and everything seemed to return to normal. But when I stepped outside, Grandpa was nowhere to be found. His body, even the head, had completely vanished. I didn’t know whether he was alive or dead—or where he had gone.

I asked Zhang Qing, but he didn’t have any answers. He just murmured, "The headless ghost general leading the dead... Nine Dragons Pulling the Coffin, controlling the masses. Your grandfather is indeed an extraordinary person. With my knowledge, I can’t see everything, but I know he took those evil spirits with him. It seems the body in the mountains wasn’t him... but why does it look so much like him?"

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

I didn’t care about his ramblings. I just wanted to find Grandpa. But no matter where I searched, he was gone—gone forever.

From morning till evening, I scoured the village, but there was no trace of him.

That’s when it hit me—Grandpa’s words came back to me. Earn a hundred million and burn it for him. Could that really bring him back?

But why burn real money? One hundred million? That’s an astronomical amount!

And even worse—how could I possibly make that much money in just three years? How many tattoos would I have to do? I could tattoo until my hands fell off, and I still wouldn’t make enough. It seemed utterly impossible.

But no matter what, I had to do it. I had to save Grandpa. Even if it meant selling my soul to the devil, I would make that hundred million.

Grandpa, wait for me!

I returned to the tattoo shop, feeling hopeless. Zhang Qing was still there, waiting for me. As I looked at him, I noticed something strange—his neck was covered with more red hairs, and the corpse spots on his skin had spread. The spots had grown larger, and his face was growing paler by the hour. I began to wonder if he would end up as a zombie—because he sure didn’t look human anymore.

Zhang Qing had saved my life. If it weren’t for him, I would have been eaten alive by the ghosts before Grandpa could come back. I had to keep my promise and give him a tattoo.

I hadn’t eaten all day, so I grabbed a quick bowl of instant noodles before deciding what kind of ghost tattoo to give Zhang Qing to help remove the red hairs and corpse spots.

Zhang Qing had explained before that ordinary corpses don’t grow hair, but once they become zombies, they start growing black or white hair. However, if they grow red hair, it indicates a much more powerful form of zombie—a "red hair" zombie, more dangerous and more poisonous. Those three corpses I had seen were no ordinary ones.

Thinking about this, I finally made my decision. "How about I tattoo you with the Ying Gou?"

Ying Gou had once been a general under the Yellow Emperor, but after making a mistake, he was punished and sent to guard the Yellow Springs. There, he encountered the remnants of an ancient divine beast, the Hou, whose soul tempted him into a dark fusion. He became one of the Four Ancestors of the Zombies.

If even the Ancestor of Zombies couldn’t suppress your red-haired zombie aura, then I didn’t know what else would.

Zhang Qing looked shocked. "You want to tattoo me with the Ancestor of Corpses? Do you think my fate is strong enough for that?"

Indeed, tattooing the Ancestor of Corpses was a bold move. I understood his concerns. But I reassured him, "Don’t worry. Even the Ancestor of Corpses is just a zombie—not a Buddha or a Bodhisattva. As long as I remove his teeth during the tattooing process, it’s like a tiger with no teeth—he can’t harm anyone."

I added with a grin, "The only issue is that every first and fifteenth day of the month, you’ll need to use animal blood to wash the tattoo. But it can’t be chicken blood—chicken blood is too strong and might anger the evil spirits in the tattoo."

"And whatever you do, don’t tattoo this on your back. That would make you a 'back corpse.' No one can bear that weight. And certainly not your chest either, or you’ll be a 'lying corpse.' We’ll tattoo it on your arm."

Zhang Qing looked at me skeptically, but there was no other option. He reluctantly agreed, trusting me despite his doubts.

I gathered the inks and tools. The process wasn’t difficult, but it required focus. Zhang Qing’s arm was a bit small for such a detailed tattoo, so it took longer than usual.

Around 11 PM, I finally finished the Ying Gou tattoo. The dark energy from the tattoo was intense—it would undoubtedly make a formidable tool for Zhang Qing to use when dealing with evil spirits in the future.

When the tattoo was done, we were both exhausted. Zhang Qing and I spent the night in the shop. The next morning, when I woke up, I saw that his red hair and the corpse spots had completely vanished. His complexion had returned to a healthy color.

He thanked me profusely, but I told him, "No need for thanks. You saved me once, so I repaid you. This tattoo is on the house."

Before he left, Zhang Qing gave me his contact number. "I’ll be in Zhonghai City. If you ever need help, call me."

After he left, I searched under Grandpa’s bed, where I found the old wooden box Grandpa had mentioned. When I opened it, I almost dropped it in shock. Inside was something that sent a chill through my spine.