The Shaman's body was completely engulfed in a mass of thick, black hair. The strands tightened, squeezing the life out of her.

　　“Aaaahhh…!!” Her screams echoed across the platform, sending chills down their spines.

　　The sound grew increasingly inhuman, distorted by pain and terror.

　　Blood seeped through the gaps in the hair, staining the stone platform crimson, and dripped onto the ground below.

　　Crack.

　　Crack.

　　The sickening crunch of bone grating against bone reached their ears.

　　They watched, transfixed, as the Shaman's body contorted, shrinking within the suffocating grip of hair until it resembled a fleshy, pulsating ball.

　　It was less than half its original size.

　　The urge to turn and flee gripped them both.

　　This vengeful spirit was terrifying beyond words.

　　The Shaman’s screams faded into silence, leaving only the stench of blood and the soft, mournful sobs of the ghost.

　　Ning stood his ground.

　　It wasn’t that he wasn’t afraid, but the ghost still held something vitally important—the book he’d taken from the Shaman's bedroom.

　　That book was their only hope of reaching the mountain temple, their only chance of saving Bai.

　　Ning never abandoned his friends.

　　Bai had risked her life to help them, entering their second Blood Gate.

　　He wouldn’t leave her to die now.

　　Taking a deep breath, he stepped towards the weeping ghost, "We delivered the one you sought. You’ve had your revenge. Can you return the book now? I need it... to save my friend."

　　As if startled by his words, the skinless ghost looked up, its borrowed eyes staring at them through a curtain of bloody tears.

　　Liu tugged at Ning's sleeve, his voice a hushed whisper, "Bro, I don't like the way she's looking at us. Let's get out of here! We’ll find another way to help Bai. Now that the Shaman’s dead, we can search her house again. There must be other clues."

　　“If we die here, Bai dies too!”

　　The moment he finished speaking, the ghost vanished from the platform and reappeared right in front of them.

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　　Though they had seen her before, its sudden appearance at such close proximity sent their hearts racing.

　　The air around them grew frigid, the ghost's gaze searing through them, chilling them to the bone.

　　The warmth of the sun overhead offered no comfort.

　　Was it planning to kill them too?

　　A twisted reward for their efforts?

　　The thought sent a shiver down Ning’s spine.

　　After what felt like an eternity, the ghost slowly extended its hand, offering him the damp book.

　　Then, with a sickening squelch, it reached up and plucked out its own eyes, placing them on the palm of its outstretched hand.

　　Ning swallowed hard, forcing himself to accept the gruesome gift.

　　If the ghost wanted them dead, they would be dead already.

　　It was offering them these eyes for a reason.

　　He handed one to Liu.

　　As soon as their fingers closed around the eyeballs, the world around them dissolved into a dizzying blur.

　　When their vision cleared, the ghost was gone.

　　The black algae on the platform withered, dissolving into dust in a matter of seconds.

　　A strange sensation washed over Ning.

　　He climbed the steps to the platform, staring down at the pond.

　　He watched as the ghost's skin disintegrated before his eyes, dissolving into the murky depths.

　　"Bro, what is it?" Liu called from below.

　　Ning shook his head. “It’s gone.”

　　Liu knew exactly what he meant.

　　He let out a long breath, leaning against a nearby tree.

　　"At least that vengeful spirit was true to its word."

　　He closed his eyes, recalling his master's words from years ago, "Sometimes, people are far more terrifying than ghosts.”

　　Back then, he had dismissed it as a joke.

　　But now, after years of wandering the Jianghu, he knew it to be true.

　　As they thought back on their experience in this village, they realized his master had been right.

　　It wasn’t ghosts that had tried to kill them, but the villagers themselves.

　　A humorless laugh escaped Ning's lips.

　　What a cruel irony.

　　He opened the book, his smile fading as he began to read.

　　“Bro, what is it?” Liu asked, sensing his friend's distress.

　　Ning took a deep breath, composing himself before handing him the book. "See for yourself."

　　Liu scanned the pages, his eyes widening with anger.

　　He clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white.

　　"Those bastards! The Ruan clan!" he roared. "How can they live with themselves after committing such atrocities?!"

　　The book revealed the truth of what transpired in the village all those years ago.

　　A century ago, a devastating drought had gripped the land, plunging the village into famine.

　　The Guang family, the wealthiest in the village, had opened their storehouses, sharing their grain with the starving villagers.

　　Their selfless act earned them the respect and admiration of the people.

　　This did not sit well with Ruan Huang, who had his sights set on becoming the next village head.

　　But there was nothing he could do. Even he relied on the Guang family’s generosity to survive.

　　As months passed, however, even the Guang family’s reserves began to dwindle.

　　Faced with the prospect of his own family starving, Guang Xiu made the difficult decision to stop sharing their remaining grain.

　　It was the opportunity Ruan Huang had been waiting for.

　　He didn't need to do much to sway the villagers.

　　Their fear and desperation proved to be far more persuasive.

　　When Guang Xiu stood before them, announcing his decision, their gratitude vanished, replaced with a predatory glint in their eyes.

　　You fed us when we were hungry. Now that you no longer can, we starve? That’s as good as killing us yourself.

　　Their hunger festered, breeding suspicion, greed, and resentment.

　　Two days later, driven to the brink of madness by hunger, the villagers began gnawing on tree bark and digging for roots.

　　That was when Ruan Huang made his move.

　　He uttered just one sentence:

　　“Last night, I saw the Guang family eating meat.”