My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion-Chapter 755 - 478: No Shortage of Heroes (Two-in-One)

The shadows of the trees loomed eerily, revealing a ghastly pale ghostly face with disheveled hair. Its hollow eyes and silently open mouth seemed to be lamenting endless grievances.

Shao Po froze in place, every hair on his body standing on end. He trembled violently, struggling to catch his breath.

An ominous wind swept through the alley,

and that ghostly face floated from the wall's edge, slowly drawing closer.

The cold seeped into him entirely, and Shao Po even forgot to draw his blade, only to hear a sharp "pop" sound.

The ghostly face vanished at once.

"W-Where did the ghost go?"

Shao Po's voice quivered, his soul still unsettled as he spoke belatedly.

"There are no ghosts." The Taoist stretched his hand forward, revealing a child's temple fair mask—a red face mask of Guan Yu—as he presented it.

Upon closer inspection, it was clear there was no wandering spirit. Shao Po, still shaken, glanced at it again and suddenly realized—it was actually Chen Yi who had slapped it just now, causing the ghostly face to cave in. It wasn't disheveled hair, but merely a mask hung up on the treetop. The shadows of the leaves gave the illusion of scattered black hair.

Shao Po, previously in disarray from the fright, had mistaken the Guan Yu mask for a ghostly apparition. Once the truth was revealed, he regained his composure and coughed twice, saying:

"Taoist, you saw it too—such sinister ghosts, cunning and deceptive. Their tricks are so insidious that I nearly fell for it."

He calmed his breathing and then scrutinized Chen Yi's expression.

The face of the Wandering Taoist remained stoic, devoid of joy or sorrow, as he casually tossed the mask aside, saying, "Understood, understood."

"To be honest, if it weren't for these meaningless tricks of hers, she wouldn't last three or forty rounds with me in combat."

Shao Po let go of the knife's hilt, whose rope binding was damp with cold sweat. He patted his hands to ease his flustered state, then cautiously asked:

"Shall we… continue leading the way?"

"Yes, the sooner, the better."

Shao Po wasted no time, starting off into the alley again, although his scalp still tingled faintly. The gruesome image that had flickered before his eyes continued to linger eerily in his mind.

A short while after the group entered the alley, they turned another corner. The walls in this alley stood even taller, with rooftops casting shadows down. The path turned increasingly narrow, sloping downward, yet it seemed unclear where it led, as the end of the alley stretched infinitely underground.

Uneven stones on the ground were interspersed with patches of wild grass, which resembled small eerie hands reaching upward.

"Swallows, swallows flitting by, one swallow follows another…"

Through the ominous wind, faint traces of a nursery rhyme drifted faintly.

At first, Shao Po thought he'd misheard it, but the persistent humming around his ears prickled his skin with goosebumps.

"Shao Gongzi, come and meet me…"

A chilling sensation ran straight up Shao Po's spine as cold sweat poured down his back. He whipped his head around and asked:

"…Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

Chen Yi's expression was utterly blank, while the little Taoist girl beside him kept her head lowered.

"The song… someone's singing." Shao Po wanted to point out the direction, but the song abruptly stopped, leaving no clue as to where it came from.

"Perhaps Constable Shao misheard," Chen Yi replied.

A slight twitch of Shao Po's temples betrayed his mounting tension. Awkwardly forcing a smile, he then drew his blade to hold it defensively in front of him.

He said as calmly as he could manage, "T-Taoist, don't panic. Such sinister spirits rely only on ghostly tricks. In a direct confrontation, they're no match for us three."

"Indeed."

Though the reply seemed perfectly ordinary, Shao Po caught an almost imperceptible detail.

From start to finish, the replies had only come from Chen Yi.

Unable to help himself, Shao Po glanced at the long-haired girl once again. His heartbeat quickened—this little Taoist girl had been silent since their first meeting. Could she be mute? 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

Behind him, Chen Yi urged, "Quickly now, let's vanquish these spirits as soon as possible."

Shao Po's train of thought broke off, and hurriedly, he nodded and tightened his grip on the blade, moving forward.

In the dim, oppressive alley, the blade shimmered faintly with cold light. Rather than instilling reassurance, its gleam only heightened the sense of dread.

The terrain that Shao Po should know intimately felt unfamiliar in the grip of fear. The alley stretched endlessly, flanked by houses with tightly shut wooden doors. Dark red, upside-down "Fu" symbols lined up one after another.

It felt as though he walked swiftly, but in reality, his pace vacillated between fast and slow. Fear enveloped him—he tried to hurry, yet slowed as though something lurked in the shadows, making the already interminable alley seem longer.

The three turned another corner, only to stop abruptly—the path ahead was blocked.

A heap of miscellaneous items had piled into a strange mound at the alley's mouth, reaching a height of one and a half zhang. It was enveloped in a mangy black texture: an antiquated bed frame covered in mold, a cabinet with a hole on one side, a dresser with copper inlays coated in thick dust, and crossed long benches. Hanging from pointed corners at the top were several tattered children's bellybands.

As they approached, a nauseating and pungent stench filled the air. Looking down, they saw a ring of dark red stains on the ground.

It was black dog's blood.

Shao Po shivered uncontrollably. The mountain of debris seemed to be sealing in something within, preventing it from coming out.

"Is there another path?" Chen Yi asked.

"…Yes." Shao Po's scalp tingled as he responded after a long moment.

He immediately turned back toward the previous fork and chose the path to the left.

This path felt even longer and windier, an unfrequented, desolate trail.

Shao Po's blade trembled faintly in his grip as he walked, the nursery rhyme drifting intermittently—sweet, clear, hauntingly incomprehensible.

Upon reaching the middle of the trail, he looked up to see a wooden alley gate blocking the route. Its surface was weathered with patches of decay and black rot. In the middle, a narrow gap was visible.

Shao Po moved closer and pushed hard, but the gate didn't budge.

"Why is it locked?"

He muttered in confusion, and suddenly, the decaying black gate began to thump—boom, boom, boom—frantically, as though something inside were violently striking against it, threatening to burst out at any moment.