Chapter Twelve: A Disembodied Soul

“Let’s go! I’ll go with you,” the policewoman said coldly.

Seriously? She wants to follow me to the restroom? That’s no good. My instincts told me she was definitely possessed by a ghost. The heavy, mixed scent around her was unmistakable—though perfume and shampoo tried to mask it, I could still detect that underlying, unnatural odor. No matter what, I couldn’t go to the restroom with her.

“Officer, it’s fine. I can hold it,” I said quickly, sensing the situation was turning bad.

“Don’t lie to me. Do you know what happens to liars?” she said, and seized my neck with an icy grip. The chill that shot through me instantly confirmed my suspicion: she was possessed, most likely by the little ghost that had escaped from the coffin. Human beings lose control of their bodies once possessed by a malicious spirit; there’s no difference between them and the ghost itself.

While her hand was still tight around my neck, she suddenly turned to the other two officers—a man and a woman—and ordered, “You two, wait outside. Don’t come in unless I call you.”

They hesitated, exchanged glances, but left the room.

“Wait! Don’t leave! She’s possessed!” I shouted after them in desperation, but my heart sank. Now I was truly doomed.

“Quiet, and tell Captain Li everything,” the policewoman snapped, glancing back at me and then slamming the door shut.

The moment the door closed, she pounced, pinning me to the ground, her expression contorted and monstrous. Even her breath was icy cold.

“A rare encounter—a person of extreme yin energy. I never thought I’d meet one here,” she said with a chilling laugh, then bared her teeth and lunged at my neck.

At that point, there was no doubt left in my mind—she was possessed by a ghost, surely the one that had escaped from the coffin. As she lunged, my body reacted on instinct: I twisted aside and tumbled from the chair, screaming, “Help! There’s a ghost!”

She paid no heed, lunging forward. Somehow her shirt snagged on the chair and tore open, revealing a black bra and her pale chest. But in that moment, even if she’d stripped entirely, I’d have felt no desire—her intent was to kill me, not seduce me. All I could think about was survival. I tried to dodge, but ended up crashing face-first into her chest. Whether it was her strength or the bra’s weak strap, the bra slipped off, exposing her completely.

I had no time to look; I scrambled to my feet and tried to run. But with my hands cuffed, escape was impossible, and her grip was like iron. She grabbed my arm and slammed me to the ground, straddling me, pinning me in place.

If my life weren’t in danger, I might have appreciated the scene—but now, with death looming, survival was the only thing on my mind. I struggled and yelled, “Help! There’s a ghost! The ghost’s going to kill me!” Before I could finish, her mouth was at my neck.

Pain lanced through me, and I felt a hot spray of blood. My body went limp. That was it—this was the end.

Bang! Just as despair overtook me, her body suddenly jerked upward as if something had yanked her off me. She sprang up, then collapsed right back onto me, her bare chest pressing against my neck, now slick with my own blood.

I had no strength left. I wanted to struggle, but couldn’t move. I tried to scream, but my mouth wouldn’t open. My mind, though, was still clear enough to wonder: what just happened? Had the ghost sucked out my soul and left?

The door burst open and the two officers ran in. Taking in the scene, they immediately hit the alarm. In moments, a squad of officers rushed in and pried us apart. Some of the male officers even kicked me, probably thinking I’d attacked her.

The policewoman was led away, and I was left alone in the dark interrogation room. To everyone else, it must have looked like I’d assaulted her—no one would believe she’d been possessed and attacked me. Didn’t any of them see my bitten neck? I was terrified I’d bleed out if she’d hit an artery, and that would be the end for sure.

Luckily, my mind was still clear. There was blood on the floor, but not too much. I felt my neck—thankfully, it wasn’t an artery. I breathed a little easier, though I still felt bitter—what had I done to deserve this?

Just as I was despairing, the door opened again and a group of people came in, hauling me out. From their conversation, I finally heard words of justice: it wasn’t me who’d attacked the policewoman, but the other way around.

They loaded me into a police car and sped to the city hospital. Thankfully, my injury wasn’t too bad—just a bite on the neck, no major arteries hit. After cleaning and bandaging the wound, they put me on an IV in a hospital bed.

The policewoman came in, now dressed in a pale lavender dress, looking elegant and lovely—but seeing her angelic face and figure made me shudder. She’d just tried to kill me.

“Are you feeling better?” she asked, standing beside me, her face as white as if she’d just recovered from a serious illness.

“Better? Just let my friends go. We’re not tomb robbers—we’re just matchmakers for spirit marriages!” The memory of her attack made me want to scream for help.

“I’ll consider it. But first, tell me what happened in the interrogation room.” She pulled up a chair and sat across from me.

“Could you… back up a little?” I asked nervously.

She shot me a look, but obliged, stepping back slightly. “Talk.”

“About what?”

“What happened in the interrogation room?” Her face was pale, but her eyes still sharp—clearly, years of dealing with criminals had made her this way.

“You barged in and tried to bite me to death. Look—you did this,” I said resentfully, gesturing to my neck.

“Really? I bit your neck? Why would I do that?” She stood up, puzzled, and approached me.

“Don’t move! Stay right there,” I warned, terrified she’d pin me down again.

She listened, staying put, shaking her head. “That can’t be. I don’t remember anything. But Xiao Qing said I went into the room, told them to wait outside, and when they came back in, I was on top of you, covered in blood, and…” She blushed.

“I’ll tell you—you were possessed. By the ghost from the coffin. That’s why you tried to kill me.” But I still wondered—where had the ghost gone?

“Don’t be ridiculous. There’s no such thing as ghosts,” she said, rolling her eyes. Then, embarrassed, she added, “What happened to my clothes? And…”

Her cheeks flushed deeper. Seeing her pink face, I regretted not taking a better look at her earlier—my memories from that frantic moment were too scattered to recall anything clearly. What a waste.

“It wasn’t my fault. I was handcuffed. Your shirt got caught on the chair, and your underwear… well.” I explained what had happened. Despite her earlier aggression, I still told her everything, hoping she’d let my friends out of the detention room.

The more she heard, the redder her face grew. She wouldn’t meet my eyes, and, without saying another word, turned and walked out.

Watching her leave, I felt even more regret. Why hadn’t I taken a good look at her in that moment?

What a loss.