Chapter 72: Come Out and Speak

Li Yi rolled his eyes on the spot, speechless, and sneered inwardly, “If this counts as being a master, then wouldn’t that make me a master too?” Such cheap tricks weren’t beyond him; any middle schooler who had studied chemistry would know how it worked. As long as one applied a thin layer of yellow phosphorus powder to the spare talisman paper in advance, once the temperature reached around twenty degrees, the phosphorus would ignite spontaneously, and the paper would catch fire as if by magic.

Therefore, to outsiders, Master Wang’s act seemed especially mystical and impressive. But such a low-level performance could only fool those who didn’t know any better. Li Yi saw through it at a glance.

He shook his head, scoffing, and said slowly, “Princess, if you enjoy this sort of trickery, I can teach you myself another day. You’ll be able to do it just as well.” Though Princess Li Lizhi had her doubts, she found herself inclined to believe him for reasons she couldn’t quite explain.

“Alright, it’s settled then,” Li Lizhi replied with a playful smile, sticking out her tongue at Li Yi. “But you must keep your promise!”

“Of course,” Li Yi smiled gently and nodded.

Linlang, however, clearly didn’t believe Li Yi, rolling her eyes at him in secret and muttering inwardly, “Hmph, all talk! If you’re so capable, then prove it…”

Unaware of Linlang’s silent complaint, Li Yi frowned slightly, his attention focused intently on the marks around the coffin. It wasn’t that he believed in ghosts—he certainly didn’t—but he had distinctly noticed signs that the coffin’s seal had been tampered with, as if it had been opened recently.

Just then, the wailing from the back hall, instead of subsiding under Master Wang’s ritual, grew even louder.

“Wang Fugui, return my life… Return my life…”

The voice was mournful and piercing, almost truly ghostly, sending shivers down the villagers’ spines. The village chief, in particular, turned as pale as paper, trembling uncontrollably as his terrified gaze fixed on the coffin in the mourning hall. He stammered urgently, “Master Wang, please… hurry and subdue this little ghost! Capture her quickly!”

Master Wang nodded slightly. With a gesture, the young Daoist behind him handed over a peach-wood sword. He fixed a talisman to the blade and, with a sudden thrust, stabbed it toward the coffin lid.

“Evil spirit, cease your mischief! Surrender now!”

Barking out his command, Master Wang stabbed the sword onto the coffin.

“Heavenly spirits, earthly spirits, Supreme Lord Laozi, manifest your power!”

As he chanted, Master Wang circled the coffin, his expression grave and focused.

Next, he pulled another talisman from his robe and ignited it in his palm before slapping it onto the coffin. Only once everything was done did he relax, putting on the airs of a true master as he announced to the crowd, “It’s done. The little ghost is banished. There’s nothing more to fear.”

At his words, the tension on the villagers’ faces finally began to ease.

“Thank you, Master…” Village chief Wang Fugui had barely finished his words of gratitude when, abruptly, the wailing voice erupted anew—

“Wang Fugui, return my life… Return my life…”

This time, the voice was even louder, more mournful, and brimming with rage and resentment. Suddenly, the coffin lid rattled violently, producing a heavy pounding that sent chills down everyone’s spines and drenched them in cold sweat.

The villagers recoiled several steps in terror.

Wang Fugui, the village chief, stumbled backward and crashed into a doorpost before he could steady himself.

“Master Wang, didn’t you say the little ghost was gone?” He glared at Master Wang, full of anger and fear.

The villagers, too, eyed Master Wang with suspicion and growing resentment.

The wailing voice had utterly exposed Master Wang’s bluff.

Master Wang coughed awkwardly, his face darkening as a bead of cold sweat trickled down his brow. He had always been good at theatrics, but truly catching ghosts was another matter entirely. He’d assumed a bit of trickery and a solemn proclamation would suffice, but he’d never expected there might actually be a haunting in Wang Family Village.

The shrieks unsettled him deeply, and his confidence evaporated.

An icy, awkward silence fell over the hall.

Princess Li Lizhi, watching the scene unfold, clutched Li Yi’s arm in fright, her voice trembling, “Young Master Li, the coffin… it moved. Do you… do you know how to catch ghosts?”

She was, after all, just a young woman, and no one could blame her for being afraid in such a terrifying situation.

Li Yi was startled by her grip, glancing down at her. Almost instinctively, he patted her head and said with a reassuring smile, “Don’t worry. I’m here.”

Li Lizhi nodded obediently, but her cheeks flushed red a moment later. Only then did Li Yi realize their closeness and quickly withdrew his hand.

Seeing Linlang’s resentful glare, Li Yi coughed and said, “Linlang, protect the princess. And don’t let Master Wang or the others slip away. I’ll go take a look.”

Just then, Li Lizhi tugged his sleeve, face still red, her voice soft and anxious, “Be… be careful…”

“I will,” Li Yi replied, nodding, and strode forward.

He simply couldn’t stand to watch any longer. Clearly, there was a mystery here that needed unraveling, and so he decided to intervene. If not for the princess’s insistence on coming, he would never have bothered getting involved.

The pounding from inside the coffin continued, the villagers all retreating to a safe distance. Master Wang, his expression grim, raised his peach-wood sword again, preparing for another attempt.

At that moment, Li Yi shouted coldly, “Step aside!”

Master Wang started, and though he didn’t know why, he obediently halted and glanced at Li Yi, his whole body trembling.

Li Yi ignored him, walking straight to the coffin. Unfazed by the pounding and the wailing, he approached and, under the terrified gazes of all, gave the coffin lid a forceful shove.

With a resounding crash, the lid fell to the ground. Inside, whatever was making the noise seemed stunned that anyone would dare open the coffin, and for a moment, the banging ceased.

After a brief pause, a figure sprang upright from within—a mess of black hair, face obscured, clad in white. The mournful voice continued to pour from its lips:

“Wang Fugui, return my life…”

Li Yi, utterly unafraid, reached out and slapped the figure hard, shouting, “Enough with the ghostly posturing! If you have grievances, come out and speak them clearly!”