Hearing the heaviness in Fatty’s voice, coupled with his grim expression, everyone knew they had stumbled into trouble again. Though they didn't know the precise nature of their predicament, they had gleaned something from Fatty’s earlier words—at the very least, this entity seemed intensely interested in women, especially the sole female among their group of burly men. Ge Mei trembled, her entire body shaking.

She leaned forward, fearful that something might latch onto her and drag her backward. Her hands gripped Fatty’s corpulent frame with desperate strength—partly for psychological comfort to soothe her terrified spirit, and partly to haul Fatty along should danger strike. Despite the voices persistently trailing them, they couldn't sense any unclean presence nearby.

Lu Zong quickened his pace to reach Fatty, whispering urgently, "Fatty, what the hell did we run into? Why is it so bizarre? We can clearly hear their voices right beside us, can even feel their breath, yet why are they still so far behind us?" Fatty swiftly glanced around with his peripheral vision, confirming nothing followed them.

He turned back for a look, but the moment he did, his face transformed instantly. He whipped his head around, shouting at Ge Mei, "Ge Mei, run! Everyone, run!" Before the others could react, Ma Xiong’s piercing scream sliced through the air.

Lu Zong’s heart leaped; realizing they were in grave peril, he glanced toward Ma Xiong’s direction. What he saw shocked him: Fatty—the Fatty who had been walking ahead of him—was now inexplicably standing behind him. Lu Zong stammered, "Fatty, you...

you..." But in that moment of hesitation, he heard Fatty’s voice boom from directly behind him, "Damn it, Lu Zong, run like hell! Are you waiting for possession?" This startled Lu Zong even more. Fatty’s voice had clearly come from behind, yet Fatty himself was standing right in front of him.

Could it be...? He spun around, nearly letting out a shriek of terror, for there stood Fatty, desperately pulling Ge Mei as they fled. He immediately turned back again, needing to see what this entity in front of him was.

Was it like the spectral version of Fatty that the real Fatty had witnessed earlier? Had he, too, been visited by a ghost? He stared dumbfounded at the indistinct figure of Fatty before him.

The swirling mist clinging to the figure’s face made the already pale complexion look even more ghastly. He narrowed his eyes, trying to get a clear look at the person, only to make an astonishing discovery: he could somehow see right through this ‘Fatty.’ "Fatty?" Lu Zong was utterly confused. He was in a state of semi-collapse from excessive shock; people in such a state easily lose their rational grip.

Fear had been completely swamped by curiosity. Finally, he resolved to investigate this mystery fully. He mechanically extended his arm and pushed it into the mouth of the ‘Fatty.’ His arm passed straight through the phantom figure.

The figure reacted not at all, save for the slight upturn of its lips, and then Lu Zong heard a familiar sound: "Hahahaha." It was that same brief burst of laughter. Only then did Lu Zong fully comprehend: the thing they were facing now was identical to the spectral double the real Fatty had seen earlier. He had been possessed too.

He stood frozen, bewildered, completely unsure of his fate in the next second, left only to submit to destiny. The laughter from the Fatty before him ceased abruptly. Then, Lu Zong felt his body become weightless, lifted by an almost flying sensation.

A current seemed to swirl beneath his feet, gently elevating his not-so-heavy body to an even level. He felt pleasantly numb, gradually losing awareness of his surroundings. His eyes slowly closed.

His heartbeat was tranquil; the world felt peaceful, devoid of sound, unconstrained by the concept of matter like the tomb. Only one thought spun in his mind: I need rest. But just as he prepared to drift into sleep, a powerful counter-force surged from behind him, grabbing his ankles and yanking him violently back to the ground.

He felt a searing pain shoot through his legs as they were pulled apart by two opposing forces. He struggled desperately to break free from the grip on his feet, putting forth every ounce of strength to escape the restraint. Suddenly, a familiar voice broke through, "Damn it, stop thrashing!

I’m saving your life! You’re resisting? Hey, Lu Zong, wake up!

It’s Fatty!" Lu Zong’s brain instantly snapped back into gear. Fatty? Right, I came here with Fatty.

Fatty’s voice echoed again, "Listen to me now. Follow my chant. Got it?

If you got it, wiggle your left foot." Lu Zong gave a small wiggle of his left foot, signaling that he fully understood Fatty’s instruction. He was starting to grasp his situation. Right now, his feet were the only things he could reliably move.

A strange thought flickered through his mind, comparing his predicament to a dramatic TV scene: "This child must be a boy; look at the way his calves are twitching. Congratulations, Cuihua, you’ve birthed a son!" Fatty grumbled impatiently, "You got nothing! I haven't even started yet.

Repeat after me. Tian ling ling, di ling ling, ha ji yang ma xi ga na lou ao mei xi gou, ao mei ga yi xi ma si." After a pause, Fatty asked, "Did you memorize it, Lu Zong?" Lu Zong wiggled his right foot, indicating he had not grasped a thing. Fatty stared at the floating, almost celestial Lu Zong, growing intensely anxious.

If he didn't rescue Lu Zong immediately, something terrible might happen. Without another word, Fatty scratched his head twice, pulled out two or three strands of hair, rolled them into a small black ball, and stuffed it into Lu Zong’s mouth. Lu Zong was hit by an immediate wave of foul, fishy flavor that shot straight to his gut, making him gag.

But trapped as he was, he could only swallow the humiliation. Fatty said, "Lu Zong, bear with this for a moment. I had no choice; I had to use this nasty trick." Lu Zong was still puzzling over it.

Never mind eating a hair, I’d let you chew off all your hair if it saved my life. But can eating your hair save me? Your hair must be incredibly valuable.

However, things did not unfold as he expected. He felt the force binding his legs suddenly vanish, and he began to float slowly forward. He felt a warmth envelop his entire body, damp and comforting.

He tried to open his eyes, but he couldn't control his body at all; the only part he could move was his feet. At this moment, he heard a muffled sound—it was Fatty’s voice. He couldn't make out the words, but he could sense Fatty was chanting.

The sound seemed blocked by something, indistinct and hazy, as if echoing from a vast distance. Fear gripped him: Had Fatty given up? Had he drifted so far away from the previous location, far from Fatty?

The thought spurred him to struggle violently, but he was horrified to find himself seemingly cocooned by something. He strained to open his eyes, but the effort brought intense pain. Finally, his eyelids fluttered open, and he could see his surroundings.

Before him was nothing but thick, dense fog, obscuring everything else. He managed to move his body slightly and found he was fully mobile again. He took two steps and bumped into something solid.

A loud thud sounded outside, followed immediately by Fatty’s voice reaching his ears: "Damn it, Lu Zong, stay right there and don't move, or I won't be able to save you. You’re on your own if anything happens." Lu Zong clamped his mouth shut, staring blankly at the dense, swirling mist. He had no idea what his current state was.

He opened his mouth again—surprisingly, he could speak—and asked, "Fatty, where am I exactly? Why does everything around me look gray and murky? I can’t see a thing." His voice seemed to loop around his own head, as if contained by something, unable to escape this small sphere of haze.

Despair set in. He feared this feeling of complete isolation more than anything, yet here he was, perfectly embodying the standard state of such an experience. Fear rising, he thought inwardly, Fatty, you’re the only one who can save me now.

If you can get me out of this, I’ll repay you in the next life, even as your ox or horse. Immediately afterward, he heard Fatty’s voice. But it didn't come from the outside; it arose from within his mind, from some deep recess, astonishingly clear, as if spoken directly into his ear.

Fatty said, "Lu Zong, don't panic. I’m figuring out how to get you out. Relax.

I can feel your thoughts. You’re possessed now; I can’t hear what you say out loud, but if you think it, I can sense it." Lu Zong finally realized the hair Fatty had made him swallow wasn't just for immediate survival; it was for communication. If Fatty could know his thoughts without him speaking, that was certainly a bonus.

He thought, Fatty, what exactly has happened to me? Why do I feel like I’m wrapped up in something? Fatty’s voice sounded again in his mind, "Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.

It’s just possession; don't be afraid. I’m working hard to save you, and you’ll be out soon." "Possessed?" Lu Zong wondered internally. What possession?

Am I already taken over by a ghost? Are you truly confident you can save me? Fatty swore solemnly to Lu Zong, "Don’t worry.

As long as my hair doesn’t get expelled from your belly as feces, I am absolutely confident I can pull you out."