Chapter Seventy-Five: The Summoning

We scrambled to our feet in panic and rushed toward Old Ding. He glared at us angrily, while that little ghost darted over and lunged at him. Suddenly, Old Ding spat a mouthful of blood at it. The ghost recoiled as if scalded, retreating three meters away.

The woman and I stood behind Old Ding, finally able to breathe a sigh of relief.

The little ghost paused for a moment, then advanced again, pressing Old Ding hard; he struggled to fend it off. He was clearly no match for it. If only he hadn’t begun the sacrificial ritual in the first place—none of this would have happened!

Old Ding took another blow from the ghost, crashing hard into the wall, blood streaming from his mouth as he coughed relentlessly. The ghost remained relentless, continuing its assault as Old Ding recited an incantation, fighting back with difficulty.

If this continued, all of us would be doomed! There was only one last trick to try—hopefully it would work!

I reached into the inner pocket of my jacket and pulled out the final talisman, holding it before me as I silently chanted a spell.

With each movement, I prayed fervently that it would have some effect—even the slightest would do.

A cacophony of noise erupted around us. Clutching the talisman, I scanned the surroundings. The clamor intensified, coming closer, growing into a thunderous chorus.

“What…what’s happening?” the woman asked, bewildered, glancing around.

The sound drew nearer; a dark mass swept over us, an overwhelming flock encircling with fierce energy, accompanied by the shrill cries of birds and the beating of countless wings.

The sheer scale startled me. Wasn’t this effect a bit too much? Had all these birds truly answered my call?

“Cough! Cough!” Old Ding’s violent coughing echoed. He was knocked to the ground by the ghost, blood pouring from his mouth.

The ghost changed direction, flying toward us!

No time to think! I tightened my grip on the talisman and pointed it at the ghost.

The dense flock descended from above, rushing toward the ghost’s position. In an instant, the birds surrounded it completely. The ghost, trapped at the center, could not move—like a creature ensnared in a thicket of vines.

It worked! It really worked! I’d gotten this talisman from that fellow in the long coat when we parted ways; there had been many birds in the vine forest back then, but I’d worried it wouldn’t work here, with so few trees. I never imagined its power would be so immense!

“You…you…” the woman stammered in shock.

Suddenly, a beam of flashlight swept over from a distance, landing on me. More and more flashlights followed, their beams trained on me. The sound of shuffling footsteps grew louder as a large group approached.

Still holding the talisman pointed at the ghost, I lowered my hand to look at the newcomers—a crowd of police officers walking up, their powerful flashlights sweeping back and forth, staring uncertainly at the mass of birds.

Amid the crowd, three familiar figures appeared: Old Ma, Gu Yangyu, and Duan Tianqi! How had all three come together? Duan Tianqi was understandable, but weren’t Old Ma and Gu Yangyu searching for the little ghost? Why would they arrive together?

Old Ma and Gu Yangyu eyed me strangely, especially Old Ma, whose expression was so dark it was as if I’d committed a grave sin. I was baffled, gazing at him in confusion.

A police officer stepped forward, glancing at Old Ding, who lay on the ground coughing blood, then at the flock of birds encircling something, then at the woman, and finally at me. “What’s going on here? Where did all these birds come from?”

There was no way to explain this. The ghost was hidden within the flock, invisible to the eye.

I pointed at Old Ding and said, “In any case, he’s the murderer. If you want to know more, I can tell you privately later.”

Another officer protested, “That won’t do! You need to explain everything clearly!”

The plainclothes officer gestured to him, then said, “The real culprit is caught. The rest isn’t our concern—take him away.”

Several officers walked over, cuffed Old Ding, and hauled him up.

Old Ding struggled, twisting his head toward the woman, his voice hoarse, “I’ve done as you asked! Hurry up and remove the evil medicine!”

The woman smoothed her hair indifferently. “You won’t come to any good even after being taken in—why bother lifting it?”

Old Ding was furious, glaring at her in rage. “You—you’re going back on your word!”

The woman laughed, watching him sputter blood, helpless and enraged, mocking, “I thought you were formidable, but you’re nothing. If I really drugged you, you’d already be dead—why waste so many words with you?”

Old Ding grew even more incensed, gritting his teeth, “You tricked me!”

Two officers dragged him away.

Old Ma addressed the plainclothes officer, “I’d like to ask him a few questions.”

The officer nodded.

Old Ma walked up to Old Ding, who avoided his gaze, turning his head aside.

“How do you know how to perform the sacrificial ritual? What connection do you have to the one who forged ghosts in the past?” Old Ma asked.

Old Ding kept his head turned, silent.

Old Ma continued, “You know witchcraft, but it’s clear you haven’t practiced in years—otherwise, I’d have noticed sooner.”

Old Ding remained mute.

A thought struck me. I stepped forward and asked, “Where are your wife and son? Why haven’t we seen them?”

He reacted subtly, as if remembering something.

I’d been puzzled from the start: Old Ding’s house had three rooms, yet only he lived there. The room Gu Yangyu borrowed was well-furnished, with sneakers and a basketball—clearly a boy’s room.

From the household’s furnishings, it was obvious three people lived there: Old Ding, his wife, and his son. Yet, all these days, he’d never mentioned his wife or son.

Old Ma sensed something amiss and pressed, “Where are your wife and child? Is this sacrificial ritual related to them?”

Old Ding’s expression grew more agitated, sadness and resentment appearing on his face. It seemed the ritual was indeed tied to his family.

I said, “Once you go in this time, you won’t come back out. You’ve been honest and upright for so long, and Duan isn’t a heartless man. If you were forced into this and have a grave injustice, speak out—perhaps my master…”

I did not finish, but glanced meaningfully at Old Ma.

Old Ding’s expression changed. He looked at Old Ma with a hint of pleading. “Can you really help me?”

Old Ma’s aged eyes widened, nearly bursting with anger as he glared at me.

I feigned innocence and wisely kept silent.