"Stop looking at him—Wang Ziheng is already dead," Lin Feng said coldly after glancing at me. "I really underestimated him. A man so calculating in life, yet dying with such resolve. To think he even cast a Stiffening Curse on himself before his last breath…"
Wang Ziheng had indeed died. Though I was never close to him, seeing him lying across Lin Feng's back, eyes still wide and face locked in a snarl, I couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow.
The Stiffening Curse is an extremely simple form of sorcery, yet before today, I'd never imagined someone using it on themselves while still alive. Originating in the Xiangxi region, this spell is typically cast by a local shaman just before death—if a person is about to die and there's a risk of corpse transformation. Once cast, the person immediately dies, but their skeleton locks rigidly in place, freezing the body exactly as it was at the moment of death. Even tremendous force cannot bend a limb or shift a joint.
Technically, the corpse becomes a kind of zombie—but the kind that can only lie still in a coffin, so rigid it can't even twitch, much less climb out and harm the living.
At the mouth of the cave, Po Jun and I had nowhere left to retreat. I held a short sword in one hand, while the pistol that once belonged to Po Jun now sat holstered at Wang Ziheng's waist. All I had left was my collapsible baton—barely enough to steady my nerves.
Just then, Lin Feng took a few more steps forward, ignoring us entirely. He crouched down and carefully picked up the crossbow I'd discarded. Fortunately, I'd already fired the last bolt, and the rest were in my pocket. Even so, Lin Feng treated the now-empty weapon like a rare treasure. He carefully removed the bowstring and packed the crossbow away.
Before he had even fully stood, his body turned slightly, giving me a narrow opening. I didn't hesitate—I lunged forward, aiming my short sword at his exposed hand.
But Lin Feng must've anticipated the attack. Just before my blade could strike, he shifted his stance, dragging Wang Ziheng's corpse into the path of the sword. Even knowing Ziheng was already dead, I couldn't bring myself to cut him, so I diverted my strike by a few inches. The blade only grazed Ziheng's skin.
In that split second, Lin Feng's own short sword came stabbing toward me. I had no way to dodge. Gritting my teeth, I prepared to take the hit—if I could land a fatal blow in return, at least I could die taking him with me. If Ziheng wasn't afraid, why should I be?
But before the blade could reach me, Po Jun struck. With a powerful swing of his baton, he slammed it into Lin Feng's sword hand. A dull crack echoed as the force of the blow made Po Jun's arm jerk violently upward. Had he not held the baton tightly, he might have dropped it.
As for Lin Feng, his hand was twisted grotesquely from the impact. All fingers except the thumb were bent at unnatural angles, gnarled like a broken tree branch.
Seeing this, I seized the moment and slashed again, aiming for Lin Feng's mangled hand. Just as my sword was about to sever it completely, Po Jun yanked me backward by my collar, throwing me off balance.
Confused, I fell flat on my back—only to feel a sharp sting in my forehead, followed by a burning pain that spread rapidly. When I got back on my feet, blood was already dripping steadily down my face.
I wiped the blood from my brow, horrified. I hadn't even seen what struck me—if Po Jun hadn't pulled me away in time, I might've lost my head right then and there.
Po Jun dragged me back toward the cave wall. Lin Feng didn't press the attack. He was hunched over now, visibly burdened by Wang Ziheng's body clinging to him like a deadweight. He paused to catch his breath, then looked at us and sneered. "To injure me this badly… I'll admit, you two have some skill."
Then his eyes shifted to Po Jun. "I watched you grow up, and now I'll be the one to send you off. For your uncle's sake, I'll make your death quick. But if you struggle too much—don't expect to die in one piece."
As he spoke, Lin Feng reached out with his uninjured hand and began resetting his broken fingers one by one. With a series of sickening cracks, they snapped back into place. Only then did I notice that both his index fingers wore translucent rings—each threaded with nearly invisible strands.
Wyrmvine Threads…
I finally recognized them. These two filaments were what had severed Lao Yi's head and gravely wounded Wang Ziheng earlier.
I shouted toward Po Jun, "Dajun! Watch his fingers—he's using Wyrmvine Threads!" In terms of identifying objects with the Heavenly Eye, there were few in the Bureau of Paranormal Investigation who could match me. Just now, Po Jun had only sensed something off about the way Lin Feng moved his hand toward me—it eerily resembled the gestures he made before decapitating Lao Yi and gravely wounding Wang Ziheng. Instinctively, he threw me to the ground.
After resetting his twisted fingers, Lin Feng glanced at me. "Not bad. No one's ever noticed these two threads, even after five or six years. A shame, though—such good eyes won't help you underground." He sighed, then added with a mocking tone, "In your next life, remember: don't go around awakening your Heavenly Eye. Just be an ordinary person. That's the best you can hope for."
The moment those words left his lips, Lin Feng's figure twisted and warped—then vanished into thin air.
Before I could even catch my breath, the air in front of me began to distort. Something was coming through. I didn't hesitate—I raised my short sword and slashed straight at the distortion.
A crisp shhk rang out—the blade struck something solid. A flash of blood followed. Lin Feng reappeared, right where I'd slashed. My short sword was caught in his hand, blood dripping down its length.
His face contorted in disbelief and pain. I didn't give him a second chance. Using all my strength, I thrust the blade forward, then immediately yanked it back. This short sword was crafted to counter his techniques—just that single strike and withdrawal sent unbearable pain through him. He howled, releasing his bloodied hand.
I hadn't even exhaled when his other hand swung at me. I had no room to dodge. Gritting my teeth, I swung my blade at his throat.
Just then, I heard a whoosh behind me. Po Jun's baton came crashing toward Lin Feng's face. The sword and baton were both about to strike true—when Lin Feng's body warped once more and vanished right before our eyes.
He reappeared back in his previous position, ignoring his bleeding hand. He simply stared coldly at us. After a moment, he raised his injured hand to his shoulder and pressed it against the back of Wang Ziheng, who was still clinging to him.
A terrible feeling rose in my gut. Before I could react, Lin Feng gave us a twisted smile. "Say goodbye to Wang Ziheng…"
What did he mean? Wasn't Lao Wang already dead?
Before Po Jun or I could figure it out, Lin Feng's palm tensed—and with a thunderous BOOM, Wang Ziheng's body exploded. His flesh turned into a thick blood mist that engulfed the entire cave.
Po Jun and I were frozen in shock. For a moment, time seemed to stop. My mind went blank. Thankfully, Lin Feng didn't take advantage of the moment to attack us.
Now free of Wang Ziheng's corpse, Lin Feng moved much more easily. His lips parted slightly, whispering something under his breath, too soft for either of us to hear.
After murmuring the final word, tendrils of dark gray death energy began to seep from his pores. His face turned ashen. With my trained eye, I could see clearly—he had no signs of life left. He was no longer a living man. This had to be that technique from the Heavenly Principle Diagram, the one that inverts Yin and Yang.
As we watched, his wounds began to heal visibly, the gashes on his face and hands knitting together at an alarming speed.
Po Jun stared blankly at Lin Feng's transformation. Then he turned to me and said in a low voice, "Lazi… whether he's alive or dead, your weapon restrains him. Even if we both die today, we're dragging him with us."
At this point, I'd already let go of all hope. I grinned fiercely at Po Jun and snarled at Lin Feng, "I never planned to walk out of here alive! If we're dying, we're dying together!" Then, imitating Wu Rendi's move back at Dead Man's Pool, I sliced open my fingertip and smeared the blood along the edge of my blade.
The moment he saw that, Lin Feng froze—despite the fact that no trace of life remained in him. He stared coldly at me, then suddenly opened his mouth and shot a blast of death energy at me like an arrow.
I held my breath and charged, but before I could reach him, a dull thud-thud echoed from the rear cave—like someone pounding on stone.
Po Jun and I immediately halted, dodging the death energy. My first thought: someone from the Bureau is here! But I quickly dismissed that. If it were Yang Xiao or Yang Jun, they'd have broken the Soul-Devouring Wolf Smoke at the entrance and walked right in—no need to bang around the rear cave. Still, the situation had changed. Maybe—just maybe—things were about to turn in our favor.
Lin Feng had also noticed the noise. But unlike us, he seemed to know exactly what was coming. The pounding grew more intense, accompanied by beastly howls.
I could tell Lin Feng was unsettled by the roars. He kept glancing over his shoulder. I was just about to strike while he was distracted—but Po Jun stopped me.
"Let's wait a bit," he said. "Looks like this is about to be Lin Feng's unlucky day…"
As he spoke, Lin Feng turned his attention back to us. His body surged with waves of death energy. Now, he looked agitated, as if something even more important than us was about to occur—and he had to finish us off before it did.
Lin Feng let out a low growl. The death aura around him contracted—then erupted outward. In an instant, the entire cave was filled with a choking mix of blood mist and death fumes.
Po Jun and I fell back to the cave entrance, where the death energy was thinner—we could hold on a bit longer, just waiting for Lin Feng to slip.
His ashen-gray eyes locked onto us. Suddenly, he extended both hands in a grasping motion—and I felt a tight pressure clamp around my neck.
It was like invisible claws were choking me. The more I struggled, the tighter it got. My windpipe was completely sealed.
I opened my mouth wide, gasping desperately—but not a single breath entered my lungs. Po Jun didn't fare any better—his face was the color of liver, tongue lolling out, clawing at his neck with both hands, but grasping at nothing.
It was too late to fight back. I staggered forward with my sword, but collapsed after just a few steps. Death was moments away.
Just then, a deafening BOOM thundered from within the inner cave, followed by a rush of thick smoke. In an instant, it engulfed Lin Feng.
Whatever he had feared had finally arrived. His hands slackened—and Po Jun and I, by sheer luck, escaped death.