Yang Xiao had no intention of eating. Instead, he pulled a handful of dried leaves from the pocket of his jacket. Like rolling tobacco, he ground them down into fine shreds. Then he brushed the leaf fragments toward the doorway of the hospital room, and pulled out a tiny porcelain bottle, pouring a few drops of its contents over the shredded leaves.
I didn't recognize the type of leaves or the liquid, but once they touched, faint wisps of bluish smoke began to rise. Strangely enough, the scent wasn't unpleasant—more like a mild incense, though tinged with the faint sharpness of sulfur. Even stranger, the smoke drifted outward through the door gap but not a single tendril came back into the room.
I watched the curling smoke with suspicion and asked, "Old Yang, this smoke is meant to deal with Lin Feng? Isn't it a bit conspicuous? What if it sets off the fire alarm? That'd really turn this place upside down."
"Are those smoke detectors really that sensitive?" Yang Xiao said as he pushed the door open. Sure enough, as soon as the blue smoke exited the room, it dispersed like steam, completely vanishing beyond the threshold. The smoke kept pouring out, but outside the room there wasn't a trace of it.
I was about to press for more details about the smoke, but something outside the room suddenly caught my attention. This ward was located at the end of the hallway, and from the open door I had a clear view of the entire corridor and the dozen or so rooms lining it. It was just past six—mealtime—and the hospital should still have been bustling. But now, the entire space was deathly quiet.
It felt as if everyone had vanished, like only Yang Xiao and I remained in the entire building.
Standing at the door, I peered out nervously and asked, "Where is everyone? How come it's just the two of us?"
Yang Xiao, still watching the wafting blue smoke, replied calmly, "They're still right where they should be. But places crowded with the living put me at a disadvantage. So I made them play dead for a while. Once this is over, I'll bring them back."
I immediately spotted the flaw in that logic. "What if something happens to you? Even if nothing goes wrong, what if you're delayed and can't revive them in time—what happens to those people?"
Yang Xiao glanced up at the row of hospital rooms on either side of the hallway and said flatly, "Every temple has its share of unjust ghosts…"
He must've noticed my expression turning dark because he added, "This false-death technique won't wear off until morning at the earliest. Even if Director Wu showed up, he'd have to wait another ten hours."
Then he handed me his jacket and said, "Come on. I'll take you somewhere interesting—broaden your horizons a little."
At this point, I could only hope the night went smoothly. Heaven help us if something went wrong.
I followed Yang Xiao out of the ward. We didn't take the elevator. Instead, we headed down the stairs. Fortunately, this inpatient building was a separate structure, and the front entrance had already been closed for the night. With no emergency cases coming in, it just might be possible to get through this without anyone noticing.
Yang Xiao led me all the way down to the hospital's second basement level. He pointed toward a solitary room at the far end of the hallway and said, "That's the place." I looked more closely and saw the sign over the door: Morgue.
I didn't even need to ask why we were here. The Yin energy in the surrounding air was already so dense it was warping the space. Clearly, Yang Xiao had done something to modify the area. The aura was so thick, it was nearly tangible.
He opened the morgue door and gestured for me to enter.
I peered inside. The morgue was set up as a two-room suite. The inner room was lined with refrigerated drawers stacked four-high against the walls—you didn't need to ask what was inside. On a steel table in the outer room, several bodies lay under white sheets. The temperature hovered near freezing, making everything look misty and vague. I didn't step in right away. Instead, I turned to Yang Xiao and asked, "Can't you pick a more normal place? Anyone seeing this would think you're the final boss."
"What's wrong with here?" Yang Xiao had already stepped into the morgue. Looking back at me, he said, "To most people, death is inevitable. What they don't realize is that it's not the end, but the beginning of a new life."
"Spare me the philosophy. That's easy to say when you're not the one lying on the slab." I reluctantly followed him in. Watching him enter the morgue like it was his home made my chest tighten again. I couldn't help thinking of the legend from the Qilin Building's fifteenth floor. I had a bad feeling about tonight.
Yang Xiao didn't bother arguing. He walked over to the steel table and yanked the white sheet off one of the corpses, revealing a completely naked body beneath. Placing his hand flat on the corpse's face, he suddenly gave a sharp tug— and to my shock, the body sat up straight.
Even though I'd braced myself, the sight still made me flinch. Through the gaps between Yang Xiao's fingers, I noticed something deeply unsettling: there were no facial features on the corpse. No eyes, no ears, no mouth—just a smooth, blank surface. It was the spitting image of the puppets Yang Xiao used during the Qilin incident.
His lips began to quiver as he uttered a strange series of tonal chants. The incantation was extremely foreign and unpleasant to the ear. When the final syllable slipped out, a stream of white mist issued from his mouth, slowly floating around the puppet's head like it had a will of its own.
Suddenly, Yang Xiao clenched his hand and the mist dove straight into the featureless face, vanishing through the skin. The puppet then swung its legs down, stepped off the table, and walked to the corner of the room, standing there silently.
Yang Xiao repeated the process, bringing the remaining corpses to life. Once the last one had joined the others in the corners, I finally dared to speak. "Old Yang, just how long have you been preparing this? Back in Qilin, one puppet was enough to save your life. Now you've got four. That's overkill—even for Director Wu!"
"Don't talk nonsense! I'd never dare go against Director Wu." Yang Xiao cast a glance at me, clearly spooked by the idea. "If he heard you say that, I'd be finished. These aren't full-grade puppets—I've only had two years, and I'm not capable of making four complete ones. These are all half-finished models, but together they're roughly equivalent to two full puppets. Ever since you transferred to this hospital, I've been sneaking them in one by one. Looks like they'll finally get some use."
I looked at him and asked, "You've got all this ready. But what if Lin Feng doesn't come?"
"Doesn't come?" Yang Xiao chuckled. "I'm afraid it's not up to him anymore."As he spoke, he raised his left hand and made a grabbing motion in midair. When he opened his palm, dozens of wriggling white Bone-Burrowing Maggots were crawling slowly across it.
Yang Xiao didn't say a word. He reached out with his other hand and pinched one of the Bone-Burrowing Maggots to death. Just as I was reeling from the disgust, something bizarre happened: the remaining maggots began to tremble violently, as if agitated. Their shuddering intensified, and within seconds, their bloated bodies began to swell.
Then—pop pop pop!—one after another, the maggots in Yang Xiao's palm burst open, releasing sticky, glistening fluid that coated his hand.
"What the hell are you doing?" I asked, trying to suppress my nausea.
Yang Xiao pulled out a crumpled piece of yellow talisman paper and began wiping the slime off his palm. "Just adding fuel to the fire," he said calmly. "Why wait for the full moon? I'll drag Lin Feng out right now." As he spoke, a blue flame ignited the yellow paper with a sudden whoosh, and it turned to ash in an instant.
The moment the talisman burned away, the air around us shimmered and twisted. From the morgue, a faint sound rippled outward—a sound that soon warped into a buzzing drone. Then—WHUMMMM!—it exploded beyond the morgue walls, as if thousands of bees had suddenly swarmed all at once.
Yang Xiao flinched at the sudden change in pitch but quickly grinned in understanding. Without a word, he swept both arms outward, and two copper spikes shot out of his hands, hurtling toward the hallway.
The moment the spikes left his hands, three of the puppets standing in the corners of the room sprang into action. Black shadows surged after the spikes with terrifying speed, while the remaining puppet stepped in front of me, shielding my position.
Was Lin Feng here?
I backed up behind the puppet and drew my gun, aiming toward the morgue's empty doorway. Oddly enough, even after the puppets had charged out, there were no sounds of combat. In fact, everything outside the morgue had gone eerily quiet.
I turned to Yang Xiao and asked, "Is he here?"
Yang Xiao didn't answer. Instead, he watched the door with amusement, and then chuckled coldly. "Well, well. I didn't expect you to still be this close. Thought you would've hidden far away from the hospital by now. I was wondering why your aura vanished so suddenly this afternoon—it wasn't because you ran. You just hid right under our noses. So? How did you enjoy the taste of my little toys? I've poured oil on the fire... now let me sprinkle on a bit of salt."
With that, he reached into the air again, as if grabbing something invisible. A Bone-Burrowing Maggot appeared in his grasp, which he immediately crushed without even glancing at it.
A dull thud sounded from the hallway, like something heavy collapsing to the ground.
Then came a series of loud metallic crashes—clang clang bang! Now the real fight had broken out. But with the walls in the way, I still couldn't see what was going on.
The sounds of battle intensified. Then suddenly, a wave of thick, suffocating Death Qi surged into the morgue. Two years ago, being hit by a wave like this would have left me half-dead. But now, the aura passed right by me—and I didn't feel a thing.
I was still marveling at my newfound resilience when a figure came flying through the doorway, landing hard at Yang Xiao's feet.
Yang Xiao threw his head back and let out a wild laugh.
"HAHAHAHAHA!"
After a long moment, he looked down at the figure sprawled before him and said, "Well, that settles the score for the time you tried to send my wife to the underworld. Now, let's talk about why you've decided to show your face again."
As he finished speaking, a glint of cold light flashed in his hand. Another copper spike shot downward, pinning the man's shoulder to the ground.
The figure was none other than Lin Feng—the man who had vanished for two years, recently resurfaced, and was responsible for Qiu Bulao's death.
But now, he looked completely lifeless.
He lay motionless on the floor, more corpse than man. His right arm was grotesquely contorted, and the skin had been peeled back, revealing raw bone crawling with white Bone-Burrowing Maggots.
It was obvious he'd tried to cut into his own arm to dig them out. But judging by the horrific state of the exposed bone, removing these creatures was anything but simple.
I turned to Yang Xiao and asked, "Is he... dead?"
"Dead? Not quite." Yang Xiao gave another cold laugh. "At best, he's half dead. Isn't that right?" He nudged the copper spike embedded in Lin Feng's shoulder with his toe. The spike itself was a spiritual weapon—whether Lin Feng was alive or not, it would wreck him just the same.
Lin Feng's body twitched violently. Then his eyes opened, fixing a venomous glare on Yang Xiao.
"Give me a clean death, Yang," he said hoarsely. "Otherwise... once I recover, you'll end up like Qiu Bulao."
"You mean Qiu Bulao?" Yang Xiao repeated, pressing his foot harder against the copper spike. Lin Feng's body immediately convulsed in agony, though he gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, enduring the pain in stubborn silence.