C166 — [ 6.32 — Strange Tales of Fengjia Town]

“It’s broken.”

Jiu Shu raised his hand, looking at the red string that had slipped from his little finger, murmuring thoughtfully.

Gu Yin, who had been watching the scene unfold, felt his mind go blank for a moment. When he finally processed what had happened, panic overtook him. His expression was one of utter despair, as if the world were ending; he felt both grief-stricken and wronged.

He desperately tried to explain to his beloved that the broken red string didn’t mean he had betrayed him.

“I’m not! I would never—!”

How could he possibly betray Jiu Shu? If anything, he wished he could merge into Jiu Shu, never to be separated. Betrayal was simply out of the question.

If there ever came a day when he truly made Jiu Shu sad—if Jiu Shu ever felt betrayed—he would immediately tear himself apart, just as he had done to that unfaithful vengeful ghost.

No one was allowed to upset Jiu Shu. Not even himself.

Seeing Gu Yin so frantic, stumbling over his words in fear of being misunderstood, Jiu Shu lowered his gaze to the inexplicably severed red string and chuckled softly. “Don’t be nervous. I believe you.”

“I can see how much you love me. There’s no need for a red string to prove it.”

His lover’s voice was as gentle as ever, like the warm spring breeze, soothing Gu Yin’s restless heart.

Gu Yin froze for a moment before instinctively wrapping his arms around Jiu Shu’s waist as he sat on the couch, indulging in his lover’s warmth and refusing to let go.

In his half-kneeling position, he buried his face into Jiu Shu’s chest, hiding his dejected expression.

This was supposed to be a surprise.

He had thought the red string would be a good omen before their wedding, something to make Jiu Shu even happier.

Gu Yin had been trying so hard to please Jiu Shu, naively believing that doing so would stop his beloved from favoring that third party.

But instead, it had backfired. The wedding hadn’t even happened yet, and the red string connecting them had already snapped.

A terrible omen.

Though Gu Yin was technically already a ghost and shouldn’t care about such mortal superstitions, he couldn’t help but take them seriously.

When it came to weddings, he was more superstitious than the living.

He wanted to gather every possible blessing to ensure a happy future with his priest.

He wasn’t willing to take even the slightest risk of misfortune.

In truth, simply being able to embrace his beloved priest like this, planning their wedding together, was already a happiness he had never dared to dream of in life.

But it was precisely because it was so beautiful that he feared losing it.

Gu Yin was always anxious, always afraid that some mistake in the wedding preparations would lead to an unhappy future.

“That won’t happen. Don’t be so superstitious. As long as we love each other, the wedding itself doesn’t matter,” Jiu Shu reassured him, stroking the head buried in his chest.

All these so-called wedding taboos were just psychological comforts. They were useless even for ordinary people, let alone for someone who was no longer human and had already been subjected to divine punishment.

Still, Jiu Shu understood Gu Yin’s feelings, so he let him be.

Gu Yin melted into his lover’s touch, holding on even tighter, like an anxious young pup. Jiu Shu could only sigh and allow him to cling to him as much as he wanted.

But where Jiu Shu couldn’t see, Gu Yin’s gaze fell on the severed red string.

Earlier, he had been too panicked, too focused on explaining himself to notice the details.

But now that he looked at it again, he immediately sensed something off.

The broken thread carried the foul, decayed scent of that vengeful ghost.

So it really was that lingering imposter!

Gu Yin gritted his teeth in hatred, his gaze dark and stormy.

He knew that wretched third party would try to sabotage the wedding—despicable, shameless creature!

Gu Yin could even sense that disgusting presence lingering in the room.

Though they were in different spaces, the overlap between dimensions, along with the fluctuations of the vengeful ghost’s energy, allowed Gu Yin to detect it.

But, frustratingly, since the ghost remained in another dimension, Gu Yin couldn’t do anything about it for now.

No matter how furious he was, no matter how much he wanted to tear it limb from limb, he was powerless at the moment.

That only made his unease grow stronger. He couldn’t help but bury his face in Jiu Shu’s shoulder and murmur in a muffled voice, “Beloved, what if I mess up the wedding?”

That vengeful ghost was too insidious, impossible to guard against.

“Haven’t I told you? The wedding is just a formality. I don’t care about it—I only care about you.”

“…Will you love only me forever?” Gu Yin asked uneasily.

“Of course. I love you and only you.”

Even though he knew that in his lover’s mind, that “only you” still included another version of himself, Gu Yin still felt overwhelming joy.

No matter how many times he heard Jiu Shu’s confessions of love, he never grew tired of them. Each time, he was filled with such happiness that he wished he could merge his beloved into his very being.

Though he still minded Jiu Shu’s favoritism toward his other self, Gu Yin had learned patience.

After all, once some time had passed and he secretly devoured that wretched impostor, the only one Jiu Shu would love would be him.

Then it wouldn’t matter anymore.

Although he had promised Jiu Shu not to harm himself, he simply couldn’t tolerate the continued existence of someone who had once hurt his beloved.

With that thought, Gu Yin pushed aside his troubling concerns and focused on kissing his lover’s cheek.

His beautiful beloved gazed at him obediently, a gentle smile in his eyes, making Gu Yin dizzy with infatuation—he only wanted to kiss him deeper.

The wedding was imminent, and once it was over, they could finally do what married couples did.

They would be even closer than they were now.

Just imagining it made Gu Yin feel both shy and uncontrollably excited.

He pecked at Jiu Shu’s lips and was about to deepen the kiss when he suddenly remembered the unseen gaze lurking in the room.

He immediately stopped.

A formless mist clashed against that blood-forged domain, pushing out the intrusive stare. Only when he had completely expelled it did Gu Yin feel at ease enough to resume his kiss.

Whenever his beloved was kissed, the corners of his eyes would flush a mesmerizing red, and the pale skin of his neck would bloom with a faint blush—so breathtakingly beautiful.

That damned vengeful ghost had no right to lay eyes on such a sight!

Gu Yin tightened his hold around Jiu Shu’s waist, the smooth curve of his body taut with possessiveness, unwilling to let go in the slightest.

And that was the last thing the bloodied flesh could witness.

—In another space—

Within a church room veiled in pulsating flesh,

A towering, blood-drenched humanoid figure stood with his head lowered.

His long, eerie hair cascaded down, obscuring his expression. Only his hand was visible—holding a broken strand of red string.

The thread was soaked, stained with the blood continuously dripping from his body.

Beyond that, the room was empty.

No priest. No warmth. No tender words of love.

Only the cold, lifeless flesh and unending agony.

He stared at the thread in his hand for a long time before shifting his gaze to the sofa beside him.

The very place where the priest had just been sitting. Perhaps he was still sitting there now.

He hesitated, as if afraid, reluctant to act.

But in the end, unable to resist the yearning within, he knelt on the carpet beside the sofa and sat there.

As if the priest were truly sitting beside him, the unnaturally tall humanoid curled up, his long limbs folding in as he leaned against the edge of the sofa. His posture was full of longing, yet he never dared to get too close.

He only tilted his head slightly, pretending to rest against the priest’s leg, then fell into a long, unbroken silence.

The room sank into stillness.

It was impossible to tell how much time had passed before the soft rustling of fabric sounded. Several blood-soaked hands carefully held the broken red thread, weaving it into a long, endless strand.

Layer upon layer, the red string piled up on the floor until it formed a thick stack.

Only then did he stop moving, silently staring at the thread.

Faintly, in the depths of his consciousness, the priest’s words echoed once more—beautiful yet cruel.

—He would love only him.

Only him.

An unbearable pain twisted through the hollow cavity of his chest.

“……”

—Outside the Flesh Cathedral—

Zhou Yuan, still entangled with the town’s surviving residents, noticed that the surrounding flesh had begun seeping even more blood. The already flooded streets now swelled with thick, viscous liquid.

“What the hell is going on…?”

Frowning, Zhou Yuan instinctively felt that this blood was anything but ordinary. But with the entire street submerged, there was nowhere to avoid it.

“This blood has been seeping out since yesterday! It must be the monster’s scheme—it wants to drown us all!” muttered an old man beside him in an anxious, almost paranoid tone.

Earlier, Zhou Yuan had let the old man go after failing to get any more useful information from him.

Unexpectedly, instead of fleeing like the others, the old man had stayed close, seemingly convinced that Zhou Yuan wasn’t a threat. Now, he continued rambling about what he called the “priest’s conspiracy.”

Zhou Yuan couldn’t tell whether the old man was genuinely trying to help or had some ulterior motive. So, for now, he let him continue talking, listening for any useful details about the origins of the flesh.

“You mustn’t get too close, or the flesh will swallow you whole! This is all part of the priest’s plan—he wants to kill off everyone who knows the truth!”

Just moments ago, the old man had blamed a monster, and now it was suddenly the priest’s doing.

Zhou Yuan stopped paying attention. The man’s mind was clearly fractured, making his words unreliable.

Yet, in just this short conversation, he had heard the priest’s name more than a dozen times. Every sentence seemed to emphasize how cunning and ruthless this so-called priest was, how he had orchestrated the collapse of the ancestral shrine’s influence in town.

Zhou Yuan knew too little about the priest to form an opinion, but he couldn’t help but picture someone deeply shrewd.

After all, it was no small feat to dismantle a power that had taken root in this town for centuries in just a few years.

If this priest was truly human and not some entity born from the Ghost Domain, then he must have been extraordinarily capable.

The sudden increase in red lanterns throughout the town, the drastic changes in the Ghost King’s domain—these were likely connected to the priest as well.

And yet… Zhou Yuan realized something strange.

A decade from now, there would be no trace of this person’s existence.

Wait.

Zhou Yuan abruptly grasped something critical—something he had overlooked until now.

This was ten years ago.

He had been unconsciously assuming that the Fengjia Town of the past was the same as the one in the future, both swallowed by the Ghost Domain.

But the officer’s mobile phone had already proven that, ten years ago, the supernatural disaster had not yet fully erupted.

Which meant that the Ghost King, Gu Yin, might not even be dead yet. The Ghost Domain might not have fully formed.

That would explain the differences—the countless red lanterns, the fact that the reckless police officer was still unharmed.

…But no, something still didn’t add up.

Because the space he was in now was undoubtedly a Ghost Domain.

Even before entering Fengjia Town’s Ghost Domain, the protective artifacts on his body had already warned him.

Zhou Yuan’s frown deepened as he stared at the flesh-covered town, his thoughts in complete disarray.

Before he could piece everything together, a sudden, piercing scream rang out beside him.

The old man had been attacked—his throat clamped tightly in the jaws of a grotesque, malformed woman who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

“Aahhh! Help me! Save me!” the old man shrieked.

Zhou Yuan instinctively reached for one of his protective artifacts. Although he was a government officer to some extent, he made no immediate move to rescue the old man.

This was a Ghost Domain. The rules of death here were unpredictable, and rushing in blindly could trigger some fatal consequence.

His mission wasn’t to save people—it was to survive as long as possible and gather information.

Risking his life for a stranger, especially one whose humanity was questionable, wasn’t a wise choice.

In the brief moment of his hesitation, the old man’s screams had already begun to fade.

The deformed woman laughed maniacally, her body covered in grotesque, pulsating tumors.

“Die! All of you should die! You let my daughter fall to her death—hahaha!”

“You dare speak ill of the Priest? Someone like you? When you shoved me into the flesh, did you ever think this day would come?”

At the mention of the “Priest” once again, Zhou Yuan forced himself to remain calm and observe the woman.

Stripping away the grotesque flesh distortions, he could tell she was a woman in her early thirties. Her eyes shone with the exhilaration of vengeance, but there was an undeniable instability in her expression.

The old man’s words hadn’t been entirely wrong—the flesh was affecting people, driving them to madness.

Yet even in this state, she still remembered the Priest.

It was clear that the Priest had left an indelible mark on the minds of the townsfolk.

If he wanted to understand the Ghost Domain, investigating this Priest was unavoidable.

Zhou Yuan needed more information.

After a moment of consideration, he pulled out a mask-shaped artifact.

This artifact, known as [Ghost Face], was issued by the Bureau of Paranormal Security and was used for reconnaissance.

These types of artifacts were typically crafted from the residual power of successfully exorcised spirits. They were effective against both humans and ghosts, significantly increasing survival chances in encounters with supernatural entities.

Placing the mask over his face, Zhou Yuan cautiously approached the raving woman.

She was crouched beside the old man’s corpse, shrieking hysterically as she tore chunks of flesh from his body with her teeth, blood and gore dripping from her mouth as she cursed.

“Damned wretches! You all deserve to die!”

“Die! Hahaha! All of you!”

She rejected any approach, her expression twisting into something murderous the moment she sensed Zhou Yuan moving closer, ready to tear him apart—

—until she saw his mask.

She froze.

Then, as if transformed into a completely different person, she burst into tears.

“Wuuuh—Father, you’ve finally come for me? I’ve passed the Lord’s trial, haven’t I?”

Zhou Yuan’s eyes flickered with surprise, but he quickly adjusted his expression and gave a small nod.

 

[Ghost Face] caused its wearer to appear as the most trusted person in the target’s eyes—usually a loved one or close relative.

That this woman’s most trusted figure was the Priest, even above any family members, was disturbing.

It was almost like she’d been brainwashed.

Zhou Yuan’s internal assessment of the Priest’s danger level rose once again.

But this situation worked to his advantage.

Since he needed to investigate the Priest anyway, and she now saw him as the Priest, he could extract even more detailed information.

With that in mind, Zhou Yuan briefly inquired about the basics.

And from her answer, he finally learned the Priest’s name—

Jiu Shu.

Other information was similar to what the old man had said earlier. A few years ago, a priest named Jiu Shu came to this town to spread the teachings of God, opposing the ancestral hall and gathering many followers.

The woman was one of the traff-icked women in the village and had recently become a devout follower of the priest. She was supposed to join the church and bathe in the priest’s teachings every day, but her husband was a subordinate of the ancestral hall. Fearing that their daughter would be implicated, the woman had never openly expressed her faith. However, her daughter was still killed by her father-in-law—the old man from earlier.

Driven completely mad, the woman was thrown into the flesh-covered town when the transformation happened. She barely survived and managed to take her revenge.

Because of this, she firmly believed that everything she had suffered was due to her lack of devotion. Now that she had avenged her daughter and seen the priest, she was certain that God had finally forgiven her sins.

“… Take me away, Father… wuwu—”

The woman sobbed uncontrollably, completely devoid of the savagery she had displayed earlier.

Zhou Yuan hesitated for a moment but was startled when the protective talisman in his pocket suddenly began to burn.

“What the—!” His expression changed, and he hurriedly took out the talisman, only to see it rapidly turn to ash in mere seconds, the remains slipping through his fingers onto the ground.

This Peace Talisman was an A-rank artifact, a precious protective charm that could block one fatal attack.

Realizing he was in immediate danger, Zhou Yuan quickly took cover behind a nearby wall, his body breaking into a cold sweat.

There were no visible anomalies—at least, none that could be seen with the naked eye.

Gripping the gun in his hand tightly, he reminded himself that the specially crafted spirit-infused bullets were limited and had to be used wisely.

He waited tensely, scanning his surroundings, but the expected threat never appeared. Even the madwoman, still standing in the street where he had left her, remained unharmed.

Yet, the talisman’s spontaneous combustion had to indicate an impending danger.

Holding his breath, Zhou Yuan felt the weight of a life-and-death crisis pressing down on him. If he couldn’t locate the source of the danger soon, his survival was uncertain.

At that moment, he suddenly noticed that the madwoman’s expression was off. She was speaking, but no sound was coming out.

Her face was partially swallowed by grotesque, tumorous flesh, squeezing her features together. But she was desperately widening her eyes at Zhou Yuan while mouthing words.

What was she saying?

Zhou Yuan knew how to read lips and quickly understood.

She was saying: Above you.

Zhou Yuan froze for a split second before slowly tilting his head upward.

That was when he saw it—the long strands of black hair and a blood-drenched face.

A towering, horrifying humanoid figure stood behind him, observing him closely, as if trying to approach but hesitating for some reason.

Zhou Yuan’s pupils shrank in terror.

But what truly sent a chill down his spine was when his gaze moved to the creature’s multiple arms extending from its back.

He recognized this entity.

The moment Zhou Yuan realized who it was, he instantly rolled away from his previous position and frantically attempted to remove the mask from his face.

While Ghost Mask worked even on spirits, it was nearly useless against entities with severely diminished rationality—making it ineffective against most ghosts.

That wouldn’t have been too bad on its own, but Ghost Mask had one particularly troublesome flaw.

The version Zhou Yuan possessed was merely a replica, not the true artifact. If he encountered a spirit with a power level surpassing the mask’s original owner, the mask would be rejected outright, unable to blend with the entity’s rules.

And now, the vengeful spirit standing before him was an entity of unfathomable power—most likely the very source of all the disasters. If he continued wearing the mask, he might be rejected and killed instantly.

However, removing the Ghost Mask required time. Although Zhou Yuan remained relatively calm, his fear of imminent death made his hands tremble, slowing him down.

Yet, in that tense moment, he noticed something strange—the Ghost King hadn’t attacked him.

The entity remained motionless, staring straight at him without showing any intention of aggression.

That was bizarre.

Zhou Yuan’s mind suddenly sharpened, recalling that the Ghost King was rumored to have consciousness. Unlike other mindless vengeful spirits, it might not be completely lost to insanity. If so, the Ghost Mask’s effect could actually work on it.

In other words, in Ghost King Gu Yin’s eyes, Zhou Yuan now appeared as the person it trusted the most!

Even the Safety Bureau’s think tank had never considered the possibility that the Ghost Mask could influence a Ghost King. Zhou Yuan himself found it hard to believe.

But looking at the towering humanoid figure in front of him, that was the only explanation that made sense.

Excitement surged through him—this was an opportunity unlike any other. He was currently seen as the Ghost King’s most trusted person, meaning he could accomplish so much.

So much that he didn’t even know where to start.

As Zhou Yuan took a tentative step forward, he suddenly recalled the Ghost Mask’s side effects.

According to the Safety Bureau’s documentation, the mask’s rejection mechanism wouldn’t take effect immediately. Instead, it would build up gradually.

That meant the disguise wouldn’t last forever.

His heart tightened. He needed to act fast—before the side effects became apparent. If he could manipulate the Ghost King nto revealing its own weakness and how to seal it away, this could be a game-changing discovery.

With that in mind, Zhou Yuan lifted his head and smiled, attempting to deepen the Ghost King’s trust.

However, he failed to realize that the mask’s side effects had already begun taking hold.

—

Across from him, the towering vengeful ghost’s pupils dilated as he gazed upon the face before it.

A beautiful yet deathly pale face was reflected in his eyes.

A face that was smiling—but blood had begun to trickle from the corners of its mouth, flowing until all color drained away.

The face of the Priest.

The Priest, in death.

It was the exact visage that the Ghost King had envisioned countless times—the bloodied, skinless version of its beloved Priest, as if its twisted fantasies had finally become reality.

As if it had committed the one sin that could never be forgiven.

“!!!”

At that moment, the entire town of blood and flesh trembled violently—quaking with fear, despair, and near-maddening agony!

 

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TN:

MOREE PAINNNN 😩