Spirit Realm Wanderer

Chapter 7: Return

His sanity plummeted to zero on the spot. A chill rose from the base of his spine, shooting straight to the crown of his head. Zhang Yuanqing leaped high into the air like a cat with its fur standing on end, and a curse burst from his lips “Fuck!” This was an involuntary vocal reflex triggered by intense shock or fear. He finally understood why his shoulders had been so sore, and why the corpse by the window had been carrying a bronze mirror. It was to check whether a vengeful spirit had settled on his shoulder. When did it climb onto my shoulder—when I walked into the courtyard, or when I entered this room? Who gave me the courage to go out and explore—was it Fish Leong?! His mind was in a frenzy; all sorts of thoughts surged through him in an instant, and terror washed over him like a tidal wave. Although he knew this temple harbored eerie and terrifying things and had mentally prepared himself, when he actually came face-to-face with a ghost, an indescribable panic still welled up inside him. Right, I have an amulet... Zhang Yuanqing trembled as he fished the yellow paper amulet out of the left pocket of his windbreaker and, in a last-ditch effort, stuck it onto his shoulder. Smack! The Corpse-Subduing Talisman stuck to his shoulder. He raised the brass mirror and carefully shone it on the spot. The man—pale as death, with blackened lips and a pair of lifeless, white eyes—was still clinging to his shoulder. It’s no use—this thing isn’t a corpse or a yin entity… With his last shred of hope gone, Zhang Yuanqing felt his shoulder growing increasingly sore, and his hands and feet growing cold. These weren’t illusions—they were the tangible loss of yang energy. At that moment, Zhang Yuanqing thought of the corpse under the table in the main hall, as well as the elder who had met a gruesome end beneath the window. Next, he would likely meet the same fate as both of them right here. A bone-chilling chill surged through him. “Tap, tap!” Suddenly, at this critical moment, faint footsteps echoed from the corridor outside. The footsteps were light, but in the stillness of the late night, they were very distinct. Zhang Yuanqing’s heart sank; he quickly crouched down beside the corpse beneath the window. The footsteps sounded somewhat familiar—very much like the ones he’d heard when he entered the temple. “Tap, tap, tap...” The footsteps grew closer and closer, heading right toward him. Zhang Yuanqing didn’t dare breathe a word; his whole body was tense, and he could faintly hear his own frantic heartbeat. As the footsteps passed by the window, Zhang Yuanqing couldn’t help but glance at the floor of the room. Moonlight streamed in, casting a grid-like shadow from the window onto the floor. The window wasn’t very high—it only reached waist level. For someone of average height, passing by outside the window would certainly cast a silhouette on the floor in the moonlight, yet he saw nothing. This meant that whatever had passed by the window had no physical form. Fortunately, the footsteps passed by the window without pausing or entering the room, gradually fading into the distance. Phew… Zhang Yuanqing silently let out a sigh of relief, straining to catch the receding footsteps. He heard them step into the courtyard, producing a “rustling” sound as they trampled the wild grass. Then they stopped. A few seconds later, the footsteps resumed. This time, the footsteps weren’t just casual walking—they were steps taken with a certain pattern and rhythm. What was it doing in the courtyard? Zhang Yuanqing braced his chilled body and struggled slightly to stand up. Through the tattered window paper, he peered intently outward. In the moonlight, amid the overgrown weeds, a pair of brand-new, Western-style red dance shoes were tap-dancing in the night. A moonlit night, a derelict temple, red dance shoes, a solo dance. The scene seemed both absurd and eerie, yet it exuded an indescribable sense of... loneliness? How could there be a pair of Western-style dance shoes in a Ming Dynasty mountain god temple? This dilapidated temple was getting stranger and stranger... He quietly crouched back down and waited patiently. As the minutes ticked by, the vengeful spirit perched on his shoulder continued to drain his yang energy. His body grew stiffer and stiffer, and the aching in his shoulder turned into a stinging pain. He felt that if this continued, he would either die from the depletion of his yang energy or from his shoulder bones shattering. Amid this agonizing ordeal, the dancing in the courtyard ceased. Zhang Yuanqing still didn’t dare to peek out. He waited a moment longer before cautiously poking his head out to peer through the window into the courtyard. The courtyard was bathed in moonlight; the wild grasses stood still, and those eerie dance shoes were gone. “Phew…” He exhaled a breath of stale air, relieved, but just as he was about to stand up, his knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the floor. Once his taut nerves relaxed and the adrenaline subsided, he finally realized his condition was worse than he’d imagined. His shoulders burned with a stinging pain; his bones felt as if they were about to shatter. His knees were stiff, and his blood seemed to have congealed. He tremblingly grabbed the bronze mirror. In the dull, grimy reflection, Zhang Yuanqing saw himself: his face was deathly pale, his expression listless, and his pupils dull. This was no normal person—he was clearly a sickly wretch on his last legs. On his shoulder, that vengeful spirit with blackened lips stared at him eerily and silently. If this continued, he would surely die—but what could he do? He couldn’t reach the vengeful spirit on his shoulder at all. The intense pain in his shoulder blade forced him to lean against the wall for support. He turned his head to look at the senior worker’s corpse; the man and the corpse were in exactly the same position. “So that’s how it is…” Zhang Yuanqing gave a bitter smile. It was as if he could see his own fate unfolding and hear the sigh of Death itself. But Zhang Yuanqing hadn’t given up his will to survive. His mind remained active, like a CPU running at full capacity, searching for a glimmer of hope in this desperate situation. In the blink of an eye, the corpse under the table in the main hall flashed through the chaotic stream of information. “The fractures in the shoulder bones of the two corpses are different. The shoulder injury on the corpse in the main hall wasn’t fatal—did the vengeful spirit lying on his shoulder spare him? No, a vengeful spirit would never show mercy...” “Why did he hide under the table.......” “The Red Dance Shoe had been secretly following me since I entered the temple, but when I stepped into the main hall, it left…” At this thought, a glimmer of hope lit up Zhang Yuanqing’s dull, cloudy eyes. Back to the main hall—I must return to the main hall immediately! He immediately stood up and staggered out of the room, taking each step with great difficulty, as if he were carrying a mountain on his shoulders. “Thud!” He fell in the courtyard, landing in a patch of overgrown weeds, unable to get back to his feet. Zhang Yuanqing’s teeth chattered, clacking together with a “tap-tap” sound, and he felt as though he were in the midst of a bitterly cold winter. The “bitter cold” robbed him of his warmth and eroded his will. Zhang Yuanqing crawled inch by inch toward the main hall, mustering every ounce of strength. He held his head high, keeping the outline of the building ahead firmly in his line of sight. Only then would the hope in his eyes refuse to fade. It was only about a minute’s walk from the main hall, yet at that moment it felt as distant as the ends of the earth. Finally, the moment he crawled under the eaves of the main hall, an ethereal scream rang in his ears. A lightness swept over his shoulders, and the cold, dizziness, and stiffness vanished instantly. Zhang Yuanqing scrambled and tumbled his way up onto the pedestal, staggered around to the front of the main hall, pushed open the latticed door, and threw himself over the threshold. The dim candlelight dispelled the gloom, bringing a warmth that felt like a gentle spring breeze. He sprawled out on the floor, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath. He lay there like that for two or three minutes before he finally felt as though he had come back to life. “That was terrifying, absolutely terrifying... My hunch was right—the main hall is a safe haven.” Based on the differences in the injuries to the shoulders of the two skeletons, he concluded that something must have stopped the vengeful spirit from pursuing the person inside the hall. Meanwhile, the worker had died curled up under the table—a behavior consistent with a person’s instinct to hide when overcome by extreme fear. In this veteran worker’s mind, the Main Hall was safe. And the fact that the Red Dance Shoe had abandoned its pursuit of him served as indirect confirmation of this theory. For the rest of the time, Zhang Yuanqing remained in the main hall until the pain in his shoulder subsided and his body temperature returned to normal. Sure enough, he encountered no further danger. “If the Main Hall is a safe haven, then my chances of survival are undoubtedly greatly increased—even if the vengeful spirit clinging to my shoulder drains my essence again, I can still escape back to the Main Hall. But if I were to encounter both the vengeful spirit and be chased by the Red Dancing Shoes, I doubt I’d be able to make it back to the Main Hall. “Moreover, the most eerie and terrifying source of this temple is certainly not just the vengeful spirit...” He didn’t let his narrow escape from death go to his head; this ancient temple wasn’t that simple. After all, an entire construction crew had perished here before him. After resting for a long time, he gradually let go of his fear and was just hesitating over whether to continue exploring outside. That voice in his head rang out once more [Main Quest 1: Survive for Three Hours (Completed)] [Main Quest 2: Explore Spirit Realm No. 0079, Progress: 20%] [Yuanshi Tianzun, congratulations on completing a main quest. Your rewards are being processed... ] [Item/Equipment Obtained: Corpse-Sealing Talisman (viewable in your inventory). ] [Experience Gained: 15%] [Inventory unlocked. ] [You will receive 36 hours of rest. Spirit Realm No. 0079 will next open in 35:59:40. ] The scenery inside the main hall began to distort, like the surface of water rippled by the wind. When the scene cleared again, Zhang Yuanqing saw the bright energy-saving light, a spacious bed, a desk, a PS5 console, and an open window—the breeze blew in, causing the curtains to flutter gently. He was back in the mortal world. “I’m back?” Stunned, he looked around in all directions to confirm he was truly back in his room. Only then did his knees give way, and he collapsed onto the soft bed. He took a deep breath and found the air itself sweet and fragrant. It’s so good to be alive; the world is so wonderful. After a few minutes to catch his breath, Zhang Yuanqing sat up, unzipped his jacket, and discovered that the zombie-sealing talisman was indeed gone. The thought of “retrieving the item” naturally crossed Zhang Yuanqing’s mind, and in the next moment, a fluorescent blue grid appeared before his eyes. There were five slots in total, and resting in the first one was the yellow talisman. It was a strange experience. Once the inventory was unlocked, using it felt like second nature—he didn’t need to learn how; he just instinctively knew how to open it. “Besides the Corpse-Sealing Talisman, I’ve also gained 15% experience, but my level is still zero. This means I haven’t become a Night Wanderer yet—I’m still just an ordinary person.” “Just surviving for three hours nearly killed me in there. How am I supposed to complete the second quest? Is this what S-rank difficulty is like...?” The more Zhang Yuanqing thought about it, the more desperate he felt, as if Bing Ge had set him up. This lousy card could indeed change his life, but it was also incredibly difficult to handle. He knew his own limitations—he was just a college student who’d never even killed a chicken. In the upcoming second mission, it would be nearly impossible for him to survive on his own. As a model socialist youth with a sound ideological background, he knew he had to rely on the state and the government at a time like this. So he reached for his phone, intending to dial his cousin’s number, but his finger hesitated the moment it touched the screen. Because Zhang Yuanqing realized he might have a better option. He immediately rolled out of bed and found the business card left by the man with the slicked-back hair in his desk drawer. The card listed a name and contact information. Tonight’s encounter reminded him of Bing Ge’s mysterious disappearance. If he hadn’t made it out alive, then he, too, would have vanished under mysterious circumstances. It was certain that Bingge had long since encountered the so-called “Spirit Realm”—so perhaps his disappearance meant he had entered one? Based on this line of reasoning, the Public Security Bureau investigator was credible. He chose to contact the man with the slicked-back hair for another reason: the man had said he might also go missing—which was a damn clear hint that he would enter a Spirit Realm. Combined with the fact that his cousin knew nothing about this, Zhang Yuanqing had reason to conclude that those three were special agents tasked with handling such incidents. After sorting out his thoughts, Zhang Yuanqing dialed the number on the business card to call the man’s cell phone. The phone rang for a few seconds before someone picked up. A deep, mature male voice asked “Who’s this?”