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墨書 Inktalez
Grandma stepped back a few paces, clutching Grandfather's sleeve. "What should we do?"
Grandfather was also flustered. "I don't know!"
Daoist Yu turned to me. "Don't be afraid."
"Just run."
"I'll handle the rest."
I nodded, remaining silent.
Grandfather pulled me aside and gave me a few instructions.
Finally, he said, "Bian Ming, just remember this."
"When you see Wang Wei's Father, you run!"
"Don't stop for anything!"
I nodded, somewhat understanding.
Daoist Yu patted my shoulder. "Go on!"
I took the Fortune Bag and moved forward.
As I reached the entrance of Wangjia Village, I couldn't help but glance back one last time.
I saw Daoist Yu and Grandfather standing side by side at my home’s gate, watching me.
I took a deep breath and tightened my grip on the Fortune Bag as I moved forward.
The closer I got to the Wang family home, the stronger the smell of blood became.
By the time I reached the entrance, the stench was overwhelming.
There was a pool of fresh blood at the gate.
Blood splattered across the doors, walls, and ground of the Wang family's storage room.
It was still wet, indicating that it hadn't been long since it was shed.
My heart raced like a drum, and my palm was sweaty from gripping the Fortune Bag.
At that moment, the gate of the Wang family opened.
There wasn't a soul on the road.
Usually, at this time, many people would be out and about.
They would chat and laugh as they walked along.
But now, there was no one in sight.
Fear gripped my heart.
Yet, in order to eliminate the Living Dead, I had no choice but to press on.
Arriving at Old Wang's house, both rooms were shrouded in darkness.
There was no sound at all.
I picked up a stone and threw it through the window.
The sound of the shattering glass echoed far into the silent village.
The Wang family still showed no signs of life.
I took a deep breath, tightened my grip on the Fortune Bag, and moved forward.
As I reached the gate of the courtyard, I felt a shadow beneath my feet.
I turned around to look, and it was Old Wang!
He was grinning at me, his mouth stretched wide.
The corners of his lips nearly reached his ears.
There were traces of blood on his teeth.
The shout that came from his throat was terrifying.
I was so frightened that my legs turned to jelly.
Daoist Yu had said that in situations like this, one should hide in the shadows by the wall.
I crouched down at the base of the wall, not daring to move.
Old Wang stretched his neck and peered over me.
Then he turned and walked away.
I let out a sigh of relief and slowly crawled up from the corner by the wall.
I didn’t dare to linger and hurried back.
By the time I got home, Daoist Yu had already prepared everything.
A pair of bells was tied to the red rope at the entrance.
As soon as Old Wang crossed the red rope, the bells would ring.
Daoist Yu instructed Grandfather and Grandma to hide inside the house.
Then he cautioned, “No matter what happens, you must not come out!”
Grandfather nodded, “Alright.”
I was pulled into the house by my grandparents.
Daoist Yu stood at the door, holding the Copper Coin Sword in one hand.
In his other hand, he held the bells: “Wang Wei's Father, come over here!”
As soon as he finished speaking, the sound of the bells rang out from outside.
Grandfather pulled me aside: “Stay back.”
I took two steps back, feeling a mix of understanding and confusion.
At that moment, I heard a crow cawing outside.
Immediately after, I heard Old Wang's voice calling, "Bian Ming!"
I shivered in fright and quickly moved closer to Grandfather.
Grandma held me tightly and whispered, "Don't be afraid."
Outside, Daoist Yu raised the Copper Coin Sword and began to chant a spell.
I secretly lifted the curtain to peek outside.
I saw Old Wang hunched over as he moved forward.
His eyes were fixed intently on the Fortune Bag.
It was clear he was drawn in by the aura of a young boy emanating from the Fortune Bag.
Daoist Yu stood behind the Fortune Bag, wielding the Copper Coin Sword to control the situation.
As he recited his incantation, Old Wang drew closer and closer to the Copper Coin Sword.
If he crossed its blade, he would meet his end.
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