The gluttonous little boy is four and a half years old, and even the wealthy family kneels down and

Kong Ji nodded: "Brainwashed believers. They can't even tell what they're doing anymore. Once inside, don't hurt them. Try to persuade them if you can, but if you can't, tie them up."

Kong Zheng led his two junior brothers in first, pushing open the door and entering.

The lobby on the first floor was full of people—men and women, young and old. Some sat on broken chairs, some sat directly on the floor, and some held an old photo frame and talked to the people in the picture.

When they saw someone come in, they were not alarmed, but instead showed an almost pious smile.

A middle-aged woman stood up, spread her arms to block the stairwell, and said in a light, airy voice, "You can't go up."

Teacher Zhuang is performing a ritual for our relatives. Once the ritual is finished, my daughter will be able to come home.

Kong Zheng's junior brother tried to explain to her, but was surrounded and shoved by several people behind her.

They are not fierce, just stubborn, like a moving wall.

Kong Zheng glanced at Xiao Jin, and Xiao Jin nodded.

Kong Zheng no longer hesitated and ordered his disciples to pull the people to both sides, not to hurt them, but just to control them.

The believers struggled and cried out, some shouting "Don't stop Teacher Zhuang!" and others shouting "My son is coming back!"

The sound echoed in the empty hall, making Yun Zi'ang feel a tightness in his chest.

"They've been bewitched," Xiao Jin said. "They're not bad people, they've just been deceived."

Kong Zheng left four of his junior brothers on the first floor to control the situation, while he led the rest of the group upstairs.

Xiao Jin, Yun Ziang, and Kong Ji followed behind.

The staircase was narrow and dark, and the walls were covered with handwritten talismans and photos—all of dead people, young and old, each with their birth date and death date written below it.

When they reached the second floor, Kong Zheng suddenly stopped.

There was something standing at the top of the stairs.

No, there are many.

They drifted out from the rooms on both sides of the corridor, densely blocking the stairwell.

Each one was dressed in a funeral shroud, its face covered with yellow paper, through which a bluish-black face could be vaguely seen.

They didn't move or make a sound; they just stood there, blocking the way.

"Ghost soldiers." Kong Ji's voice deepened. "He has refined all the violently deceased ghosts he has collected over the years into ghost soldiers, sealed them with talismans, and made them obey his commands."

Kong Zheng drew his Five Emperors Coin Sword. With a flick of his wrist, the coins struck each other, producing a clear and melodious sound.

"Master, you go first. I'll handle this." After saying that, he rushed into the horde of Yin soldiers, his sword flashing and exploding in the darkness.

The ghostly soldiers, swept by the golden light, let out low whimpers, yet they still refused to retreat.

Kong Zheng turned back and shouted to Xiao Jin, "Hurry up!"

Xiao Jin pulled Yun Ziang past Kong Zheng and ran up the stairs.

She glanced back and saw Kong Zheng and several disciples surrounded by Yin soldiers. Sword light flashed between the black clothes and yellow paper, like a silver fish struggling in muddy water.

She gripped Yun Ziang's hand tightly, without stopping.

The third floor is darker than the two floors below.

At the end of the corridor was an iron door, through which a dark red light shone.

Xiao Jin's pace suddenly slowed down.

She smelled an odor that was stronger and more stale than the gloomy atmosphere on the first and second floors.

Behind the iron gate lies the heaviest part of the building.

Kong Ji walked ahead of her and reached out to push open the door.

Behind the iron gate was a large room, which may have originally been a conference room.

The room is now filled with things—a huge array of runes is drawn on the ground, with a coffin placed at the center of the array.

The coffin lid was open, and inside lay a woman with a thin face and pale skin.

Nine oil lamps were lit around the coffin, their flames flickering and casting an eerie glow on the woman's face.

Zhuang Huai-ren stood beside the coffin.

He looked much older than when Xiao Jin first met him.

He had changed into a black long robe, his hair was loose, pale and dry, his eyes were sunken, and his right hand with six fingers was pressed on the woman's forehead.

He heard the door open and slowly raised his head.

His eyes were bloodshot, devoid of any clarity a living person should possess.

"What are you doing here?" His voice was hoarse and distressing, his six fingers still pressed against his wife's forehead, not moving an inch. "Don't ruin my plans. Wanqing will be back in an hour."

"Benefactor Zhuang, the dead cannot be brought back to life." Kong Ji stepped forward, his voice steady. "Ten years have passed, and your wife's soul has long since entered the cycle of reincarnation. Even if you forcibly collect scattered fragments of spirit and borrow the lifespan of others to condense a soul, it will not be the original Qu Wanqing. It will only be a mass of malevolent spirits, forever unable to be reborn."

"Bullshit!" Zhuang Huai-ren suddenly raised his voice, veins bulging on his neck. "I've been saving this up for ten years! I've searched so many dark places, collected so many souls, and I'm just one step away from the final step!"

Xiao Jin peeked out from behind Kong Ji, looked at the ashen-faced woman inside the coffin, and whispered, "Auntie's soul has long since shattered."

She counted on her little fingers and said earnestly, "What you've pieced together is all other people's dark energy, and fragments of many violently deceased ghosts. If you put it in Auntie's body, she'll be in pain. She won't recognize you, and she'll even devour your yang energy."

Children speak frankly, like a fine needle, precisely piercing Zhuang Huai-ren's most obsessive point.

He whirled around, his hands clenched into claws, his voice shrill: "What do you know! She's my wife! She's waited for me for ten years! I'm going to bring her back!"

As soon as he finished speaking, he slammed his right hand against the edge of the coffin.

"call--"

The flames of the nine oil lamps around the room instantly leaped three inches high, turning from bright yellow to eerie green, casting ghostly shadows throughout the room.

A huge blood-red rune array on the ground lit up, and thick black gas gushed out from the cracks in the floor tiles.

The woman in the coffin twitched her fingers slightly and slowly sat up, her head tilted to the side, her face facing the doorway, with faint black energy emanating from beneath her skin.

The iron gate slammed shut automatically and locked itself.

From downstairs came muffled groans of emptiness, and the shrieks of ghostly soldiers rising and falling.

"Protect the array gate!" Kong Ji shouted, drawing his peach wood sword, its blade enveloped in a faint golden light.

He stepped forward, pointed his sword, and a yellow talisman spontaneously combusted, striking the female corpse directly between the eyebrows.

The female corpse paused, frozen in place.

"A mere trick!" Zhuang Huai Ren sneered, his six fingers rapidly drawing symbols in the air while he chanted obscure incantations.

He bit his tongue, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the center of the formation. "Get up, all of you! Kill them!"

The female corpse made a strange "hoarse" sound from her throat, suddenly broke free from the binding of the yellow talisman, and pounced out of the coffin. Her fingernails grew wildly, gleaming with a bluish-black light.

At the same time, countless translucent ghostly figures emerged from the ceiling and walls, shrieking as they pounced on the crowd.

Kong Zheng shouted from downstairs, "Master, hold on!" followed by a crisp sound of metal clashing, indicating that he had been entangled by the Yin soldiers.

Kongji swung his sword to meet the female corpse, the peach wood sword striking the dark blue fingernails, sending sparks flying.

His swordsmanship was steady and methodical, but he couldn't withstand the increasing number of ghostly figures, and the golden light shield was gradually compressed and contracted by the black energy.

Zhuang Huai-ren stood in the center of the formation, constantly urging on incantations. His face grew paler and paler, yet he exuded a morbid excitement.

Yun Ziang was terrified. He clutched a handful of talismans and threw them at the ghostly figure whenever he got the chance. When he hit it, a puff of white smoke would appear, and he would shout "Good!" But after throwing them all, he could only cower behind Xiao Jin, his hands and feet turning cold.

"You better hide, grand-nephew."

Xiao Jin suddenly took a step forward.

She gripped the jade pendant around her neck, and it instantly emitted a warm, golden light that spread from her fingertips to her entire body.

She took a deep breath and inhaled sharply into the surging black mist—

Like a whirlwind sweeping through dark clouds, thick black mist swirled and surged into her mouth, causing her cheeks to puff up little by little, as if she had two small glutinous rice balls stuffed inside.

The menacing ghostly figures around her were pulled crookedly by the suction force, screaming as they were mostly sucked in.

Zhuang Huai-ren's expression changed: "You little brat!"

He never expected that this little child could absorb yin and evil energy, so he stopped holding back, cut off one of his fingers, and struck the center of the formation.

"I'll fight you to the death!"

boom--

The entire apartment building shook.

A burst of black energy erupted from the coffin at the center of the formation. The green energy on the female corpse was as thick as ink. Her strength suddenly increased, and when she struck with her claw, she missed, causing Kong Ji to stagger back two steps, with a trace of blood spilling from the corner of his mouth.

Kong Ji's heart sank.

This is a life-or-death spell; Zhuang Huai-ren has gone mad. He'd rather burn himself out than give up on this final step.

Just then, Xiao Jin moved.

She crouched low, like a nimble little dumpling, and darted towards the center of the formation through the gaps in the black mist.

Zhuang Huai Ren hurriedly manipulated the ghost shadows to stop them, but as soon as the ghost shadows got close to her, they were sizzled and steamed by the golden light of the Longevity Jade, and she swallowed them one by one.

In just a few steps, she rushed to the coffin, stood on tiptoe, and kicked the main oil lamp in the very center of the array with a powerful kick.

"Clang!"

The oil lamp overturned and spilled oil all over the ground, and the eerie green flame went out instantly.

At the same time, she took out a peach wood talisman from her bosom and slapped it hard against the six fingers that Zhuang Huai Ren had pressed on the coffin.

"Snapped!"

The moment the talisman touched the six fingers, it ignited with golden flames.

Zhuang Huai-ren let out a piercing scream, as if he had been branded with a red-hot iron, and abruptly pulled his hand back, his six fingers charred black.

The formation has been broken.

The surging black mist dissipated completely like the receding tide. The female corpse stiffened for a moment, then fell straight back into the coffin and never moved again.

The ghostly figures on the walls and ceiling screamed and turned into wisps of smoke, which disappeared with a gust of wind.

The shrieks of the ghostly soldiers downstairs also stopped instantly, leaving only the sound of their footsteps.

Zhuang Huai-ren was sent flying by the golden light, crashing heavily against the wall before sliding to the ground, coughing up mouthfuls of blood, his black shirt stained dark brown.

He tried to climb up by supporting himself against the wall, but failed twice. In the end, he could only drag himself back to the coffin little by little.

"Wanqing...Wanqing..." He reached out his trembling hand, wanting to touch his wife's face, but his fingertips fell limply as soon as they touched her cold cheek.

He raised his head, his eyes unfocused as he looked at Kong Ji, then at Xiao Jin, his voice broken: "Why... we were so close... I saved up for ten years..."

Kong Ji looked at him, sighed, and said nothing.

Xiao Jin squatted in front of him, her little face tilted up, her eyes sparkling, but the sharpness she had shown in the battle of wits was gone, replaced by a soft and earnest look.

"Because once someone dies, they're dead," she whispered. "Auntie needs to be reincarnated, to go to a new family, and live a new life. If you keep holding onto her, she can't go anywhere; she'll just stay in the dark and get cold."

"You've been unhappy too, haven't you?"

Zhuang Huai-ren was stunned.

He looked at the little girl in front of him, then turned to look at his wife lying quietly in the coffin.

It's been ten years.

Over the course of ten years, he learned a host of evil arts, committed countless murders, and lived a life that was neither human nor ghost, all for the sake of the thought of "bringing her back."

But the child actually said she was cold.

She will be in pain.

She is no longer herself.

That fire, which had burned for ten years, suddenly went out.

The obsession, madness, and ruthlessness on his face gradually faded, leaving only endless exhaustion and emptiness.

He looked at his wife's face, a very faint, bitter smile tugging at the corners of his lips, tears mingling with blood streaming down his face.

"Late Spring..."

He murmured softly, his six fingers slowly stroking the edge of the coffin, his eyes still open, staring at the face he had seen for ten years, before he breathed no more.

When the oil in the lamp runs out and the lamp dies, he dies with his eyes wide open.

Footsteps came from downstairs, and Kong Zheng led his disciples upstairs. They were stunned when they saw the scene inside the room.

Xiao Jin squatted there, looking at Zhuang Huai Ren's open eyes. After hesitating for a moment, she reached out her little hand and gently wiped his eyelids.

It wasn't applied.

His eyes were still open.

Xiao Jin pursed her lips and whispered, "Don't be so stubborn next time. Say goodbye to Auntie properly, that's much better."

Kong Ji stood to the side, looking at the mess on the ground and the coffin, and after a long while, he sighed softly:

"Obsession is more deadly than the most vicious evil magic in the world."