Chapter Forty: The Blood Amber of the Wronged Spirit

Looking at the row of bold characters and listening to Li Danian's words, I was stunned. Indeed, how could a person who curses others in such a way produce the Blood Ganoderma? But that wasn't the main issue—the real question was whether I should open the coffin or not. My father may have disappeared, but my mother is still here, and my second uncle is family, too. What if we fall victim to the curse?

A thousand-year-old coffin, a thousand-year-old curse. Such things are usually effective; even if not today, they might be someday.

"Da Chuan, come up. This Blood Ganoderma is not meant for us," Li Danian said earnestly.

I felt a pang of disappointment. The Ganoderma was separated from me by only a coffin—if I opened it, I could take it out and save Wang Ying. But should I open it? Can I risk my mother’s, my uncle’s, and my father’s safety just for Wang Ying? Can I bear the stigma of being unfilial?

Thinking this through, I decided to climb out. For Wang Ying, I could risk my life, but not my parents’ or my uncle’s.

"Da Chuan, come up," Wei Qi said, grabbing my hand and pulling me back. Then, unexpectedly, he jumped down himself.

"Seventh Uncle, what are you doing?" I asked, bewildered.

"What do you think? We can’t just watch the Blood Ganoderma go to waste! Besides, your wife is waiting for you!" Wei Qi smiled and prepared to open the coffin.

"No, don’t open it. The thousand-year curse!" I pointed at the warning above.

"To hell with the thousand-year curse! I grew up without parents or family. We're friends, so I won’t drag you into it—I’m not afraid!" With those words, Wei Qi’s stout body pushed hard, and the coffin lid split in two with a crack. Though it was made of fine red pine, after all these years, it couldn’t withstand the force. I wanted to stop him, but it was too late—the lid was already open.

I had no words, only gratitude. This was a brother worth having.

"Master Li, look," Wei Qi shone his flashlight. Inside the decaying coffin lay a corpse, rotted away to bare bones and tattered clothing. At the heart, a Ganoderma of bowl-sized proportions had grown, so dark red it was almost black, and a foul smell drifted out.

Li Danian frowned at the Blood Ganoderma. "Strange, how can this be?"

"What’s strange?" Wei Qi and I moved closer.

"Blood Ganoderma are always red. This one is black, and the smell is wrong—it should be faintly sweet, but this is purely corpse stench." Li Danian leaned in to study it carefully.

Wei Qi bent down and picked up the Ganoderma. The moment he did, a black smoke slowly rose, and the stench intensified.

"Throw it away, throw it away!" Li Danian shouted.

Wei Qi must have sensed something was wrong, too, and swiftly tossed the Ganoderma back into the coffin. I hurriedly pulled him up. Inside, the black Ganoderma instantly dissolved into a pool of black liquid, even melting the decayed corpse.

"Come here," Li Danian pulled Wei Qi over, took out a bottle, and smeared talisman water on his hands. He did the same for mine.

---

"Master Li, what was that?" Wei Qi, still shaken, panted as he asked.

"I can't say for sure. That was a Blood Ganoderma born of resentment. The deceased must have died unjustly, or poisoned himself. The resentment grew this poisonous mushroom—it's not just useless, it's deadly, more toxic than the strongest poison." Li Danian shone his flashlight on the black liquid in the coffin. "Sorry, this was my negligence."

Wei Qi and I didn’t blame him. It wasn’t his fault, and we were grateful for the talisman water he applied—without it, our hands might have been lost.

Whatever injustice the person in that coffin suffered, we respectfully refilled the grave. The dead deserve respect; disturbing them was wrong. All we could hope for was that the thousand-year curse wouldn’t manifest, especially since Wei Qi had no family. I didn’t want the curse to fall on him.

The three of us searched through the night, but as dawn broke, found no sign of Blood Ganoderma. We returned to a small inn by the Luo River. Li Danian and Wei Qi slept soundly, but I couldn’t catch a wink.

Standing by the window, watching the eastern sky blush red, I felt a sorrow I couldn’t describe. Wang Ying still lay solitary in her bed, unable to breathe or move, her soul threadbare and weak, waiting for me to save her. Yet now, I couldn’t even find the Blood Ganoderma—what was I to do?

Since Wei Qi fed Wang Ying the Soul-Stabilizing Pill the day before yesterday, a day and a half had passed—half the allotted time was gone. If we didn’t find the Ganoderma tonight, then by noon tomorrow, Wang Ying would be lost for good. The thought made my heart ache, almost to the point of tears. Crying wouldn’t help; I had to keep searching. As long as there was time, there was hope.

After a brief rest, the three of us gathered for breakfast, and discussed our options. Li Danian said that graves where Blood Ganoderma grew always showed unusual signs, which experts could spot at a glance.

Wei Qi and I asked what those signs were. Li Danian explained that such graves differed from others: the grass grew thicker, or only flowers bloomed without leaves, or leaves grew without flowers—anything out of the ordinary.

His words reminded me of something: the night Wei Qi and I hunted the village chief’s brother, we came across a wandering ghost. We trailed it back to its grave, where a locust tree bloomed blood-red flowers in summer. Was that an omen?

Li Danian perked up at my story—certainly an omen, he said. Such a grave likely held Blood Ganoderma, and urged us to take him there quickly. Wei Qi frowned, saying it wouldn’t be easy, because a ghost resided in that coffin.

Indeed, there was a young departed spirit inside. How could we disturb her grave? It didn’t feel right.

Wei Qi smacked his lips out of habit. "Let’s take a look first. If there’s Blood Ganoderma, then we’ll decide." We all agreed—it was our only option.

It took us over an hour to reach Wei’s village. It was midday, so we couldn’t examine the grave—the sun was too intense, its yang energy too strong. Li Danian wouldn’t open his eyes to the other world, as it could harm him. Wei Qi took him home to rest.

Worried about Wang Ying, I took advantage of their tea and chatter to return home alone. Wang Ying lay in bed as before, breathless, as lifeless as a corpse. I gently turned her, noticing the wound I’d stitched on her back still hadn’t healed, which worried me deeply. I resolved that once she recovered, I’d bring her home and ask Second Uncle to help exchange Wang Ying’s body. The woman lying here, beautiful and voluptuous, didn’t quite feel like her. To love her, I wanted to love the real her.

Seeing her pale lips, I wondered if she was hungry. I bit my finger and gently placed it in her mouth. She made no movement; blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. I cleaned the blood, feeling an unspeakable bitterness. I promised myself that when she recovered, I would love her with all my heart.

Suddenly, I felt something stir at my waist. Looking down, I saw my soul jar moving. Removing it, I found Qingting clinging to the rim, her crimson tongue circling her lips.

"Hungry?" I asked Qingting.

"Mhm! I’m hungry. Your blood smells so sweet," Qingting replied with a childlike smile.

Her words sent a chill down my spine. Human blood, usually salty and metallic, now smelled sweet—what kind of state was this? But she was a ghost; naturally, she wasn’t like us. I offered my finger at her mouth. "Drink."

Qingting instinctively drew back. "Does it hurt?"

I smiled bitterly, inspecting my finger. After days of feeding others, my fingers were already raw. Pain runs straight to the heart, doesn’t it? But physical pain can be endured—the pain of absence is harder to bear. "It doesn’t hurt. Drink."

After feeding Qingting, I sat beside Wang Ying again, holding her hand, recalling our days together. My resolve to save her grew stronger—whatever the cost, I would save her.

When I returned to Wei Qi’s house, the old and the young were both tipsy. I found it odd—why did everyone in our line of work like to drink? Second Uncle, Wei Qi, Li Danian, even Zhao Dongsheng. I’d asked Second Uncle before, who said drinking bolsters yang energy, so those who travel the shadow paths all drink; even if they aren't used to it, they learn.

Night finally fell. The three of us headed straight for the village entrance, crossed the bridge and cornfield, and soon reached the solitary grave of the young departed. Wei Qi said it was a woman’s grave. I couldn’t tell.

"Master Li, what do you think?" I asked Li Danian, who was circling the grave, gazing intently. "Is there Blood Ganoderma?"

Li Danian shook his head. "There’s no Blood Ganoderma."

My heart sank. This was the last night; if we didn’t find the Ganoderma now, it was over. "Master Li, please look carefully. Is there really none? The locust tree is blooming blood-red flowers—that’s an omen, isn’t it?"

Li Danian shook his head again. "Da Chuan, there’s no Blood Ganoderma, but there is a Blood Amber."

"Blood Amber? What is that?" I felt a surge of hope and hurriedly asked.

"Blood Amber is what it sounds like. Its value and power rival Blood Ganoderma—it can gather souls and stabilize forms, a rare treasure."

"Can it revive Wang Ying, make her as she was?"

"No, but it can extend the soul’s existence. The Soul-Stabilizing Pill lasts three days; Blood Amber can keep a soul and body unchanged for three years, thirty years, even three hundred years." Li Danian replied seriously.

His words made me breathe easier. With three years, I could search every corner of the earth for Blood Ganoderma.

But then Li Danian dashed my hopes. "Although there’s Blood Amber inside, we can’t dig up this grave. There’s a resentful spirit in the coffin; her body remains uncorrupted thanks to the Blood Amber. Would she let you take it?"