Kuang Feifan now stood in the center of the room. The moisture dripping onto his cheek could only have come from the ceiling; the power in the room hadn't been restored yet, and glancing up, the candlelight was insufficient to discern anything on the ceiling above.

Feng Tian noticed Kuang Feifan raising his hand and continuously looking upwards, asking curiously, "What is it?"

"There's something on the roof," Kuang Feifan murmured.

Feng Tian first froze, then also looked up, realizing he couldn't see clearly. He then conjured a flashlight as if by magic from the side pocket of his bag.

He directed the beam of light towards the spot where Kuang Feifan felt the drip, and now both men clearly saw it: starkly visible on the originally white ceiling was a patch of wetness. It wasn't a simple water stain from leakage below; rather than a patch of water, it appeared as a human face composed entirely of moisture on the ceiling.

Under the flashlight's glare, the face clearly showed an expression of extreme agony, particularly jarring. From the slightly parted eyes, beads of water continuously dripped down, like falling tears.

"This is..." Kuang Feifan exclaimed involuntarily in surprise.

"Hold this..." Feng Tian suddenly tossed the flashlight to Kuang Feifan. Startled, Kuang Feifan managed to catch it. He watched as Feng Tian quickly moved to the bed inside the room, reached under the sheet, lay down, and pulled the sheet over himself, saying in a muffled voice, "I won't come out; you handle it yourself."

Kuang Feifan was taken aback; he had absolutely no idea how to handle it.

Just as he was feeling utterly lost, the dripping suddenly vanished. Kuang Feifan stared blankly, then quickly raised the flashlight to the ceiling, just in time to see the water stain, shaped like a human face, slowly dissolve back into the ceiling material.

Then, a soft whimpering sound echoed in the room. Kuang Feifan quickly swept the flashlight across the corners, but the crying seemed incredibly elusive, making it impossible to pinpoint its source immediately.

The plaintive cries continued to fill the room, making one deeply uneasy. Kuang Feifan felt every nerve in his body tighten. Perhaps infected by the despair and pain embedded in the sound, his chest felt constricted, his nose stung, and he felt a strong urge to burst into tears himself.

Unconsciously, Kuang Feifan's eyes grew moist. A single drop traced a path from the corner of his eye, down the bridge of his nose to his lip—it tasted faintly salty.

The moment he realized this, his whole body stiffened. Right then, he felt a sudden chill at his back, sensing something drawing near.

It seemed that after two candles were extinguished, something had approached without him needing to move.

Before he could turn to see what was near him, he felt a pressure suddenly settle on the back of his neck, his shoulders growing heavy—a sensation precisely like someone mounting him.

What was more frustrating was that whatever was weighing him down, he couldn't see it, and he found it incredibly difficult to turn his head or lift it.

Kuang Feifan swallowed with immense difficulty, unsure what to do. He suddenly remembered the chair wasn't far away and tentatively moved his leg towards it.

The weight on his shoulders was neither light nor heavy; he estimated it to be at least several dozen pounds. Fortunately, his load-bearing capacity was decent, and though it took effort, he finally reached the backrest of the chair.

Unsure if Feng Tian had done something to the chair, as Kuang Feifan positioned himself behind the backrest, he suddenly felt an icy chill course through his limbs. The bone-deep cold made him involuntarily shudder. It was then he noticed two legs gradually appearing in front of his torso, draped from his shoulders down to his chest.

Kuang Feifan felt a surge of panic, his hands instinctively gripping the chair's backrest. They were two bluish-white, slightly swollen legs—not belonging to an adult. Kuang Feifan trembled all over; he had already suspected that the weight on his neck belonged to that small boy.

Seeing the two legs resting on his chest now confirmed this suspicion, but having his head pressed against thighs so swollen they seemed ready to ooze corpse-water if squeezed was hardly a pleasant experience. Moreover, it wasn't just the legs; he was certain the small boy had manifested now. Though still unseen, he felt waves of moisture, cold and damp, as if he himself were submerged in icy water.

It wasn't just the legs; now he could feel a pair of small hands groping around on the top of his head. He felt the lifelessly cold palms sliding down from his scalp. A wave of nausea, mixed with sheer terror and revulsion, immediately welled up, nearly causing him to vomit instantly.

The sensation was so intense that the more he tried to suppress it, the less he could control it. Finally, his body bent forward, and he gagged dryly a few times.

At that exact moment, the pressure on his neck vanished, and the two legs across his chest disappeared as well.

Kuang Feifan, momentarily forgetting everything else, gagged a few times and slowly straightened up, gasping for breath. He instinctively touched his forehead—it was covered in sweat, he couldn't tell if it was cold sweat. His clothes were nearly drenched by wave after wave of perspiration, making him feel intensely cold, and his teeth chattered uncontrollably.

Although the physical pressure was gone, his own legs felt unstable, shaking uncontrollably. He had never imagined his legs could feel so weak he couldn't move them.

He gripped the chair's backrest tightly, using its support to keep from collapsing onto the floor. Looking up, he saw someone sitting on the chair in front of him: a small boy, completely soaked.

Kuang Feifan almost cried out. It was clear this was the child who had been on his back, as his entire body, like those two legs, was swollen.

As if sensing his gaze, the small boy slowly turned his head. Kuang Feifan immediately saw his face. Although the face, already tinged blue, was distorted beyond recognition by the swelling, his two wide-open eyes stared directly at him, protruding like a dead fish's. For some reason, looking into those eyes stirred a torrent of conflicting emotions within Kuang Feifan.

Fear, sorrow, despair, pain...

Kuang Feifan instinctively felt that the little boy was trying to convey a message, but the preceding events had left his mind blank. He couldn't grasp anything concrete; all that remained was dread and panic. Yet, strangely, he also sensed an indefinable agony—an emotional stimulus so intense it seemed to brush against every nerve, leaving him incapable of doing anything but drawing shallow breaths.

Before he could compose himself, a flicker in his peripheral vision caught Kuang Feifan's attention: a white shadow was slowly moving nearby in the room.

Another one?

Kuang Feifan was terrified and quickly turned his head to look closely. Indeed, a white, humanoid form was approaching him. However, the moment he clearly saw what it was, he almost let out a string of curses.

The white figure turned out to be Feng Tian, completely enveloped in a bedsheet, inching slowly toward the perimeter of the circle of candles, apparently preparing to light the two remaining ones.

If not for the terrifying child still directly in front of him, Kuang Feifan would have rushed over and ripped the sheet off him.

But now, he just stared at the sheet-shrouded Feng Tian. Feng Tian slowly reached the two candles, crouched down, and extended an electronic lighter from beneath the sheet, instantly lighting them.

When the flames flared, Kuang Feifan saw the small boy shudder violently. The eyeballs, which showed almost no discernible pupils, were suddenly coated with a film of mist, and dark tears began to stream slowly from the corners of his eyes. Though his expression was unreadable, Kuang Feifan felt an overwhelming surge of profound sadness.

He noticed his fear gradually dissipating, replaced by an inexpressible melancholy. By this time, Feng Tian had lit both candles.

He stood up, ripped off the sheet, and then said to Kuang Feifan, "Gloves..."

Kuang Feifan heard the prompt and instinctively reached for the fingertips of his gloves but hesitated, sensing the little boy's intense reluctance.

Feng Tian seemed to detect Kuang Feifan's unusual mood. Seeing that the three incense sticks stuck in the bowl of uncooked rice were already halfway burned, he grew anxious and shouted, "Take off the gloves! We must force it into the doll! Hurry, I will arrange for the deliverance of this family of three."

Kuang Feifan’s momentarily dazed expression brightened. Gritting his teeth, he pulled off the black gloves. The moment the beads were exposed without the covering, they abruptly burst forth with a ball of warm, yellow light—a brightness that illuminated the entire candle circle without being harsh.

In that light, Kuang Feifan watched the little boy's body slowly become transparent. In moments, he seemed to dissolve into countless water droplets, scattering instantly. Immediately afterward, the replacement doll placed before the chair toppled onto the floor.

The radiance from the prayer beads abruptly vanished once the doll fell. The room plunged back into dimness. Kuang Feifan could hold on no longer; his legs gave way, and he collapsed onto his knees. If his hand hadn't been resting on the chair back, he would have crumpled onto the floor.

"Whoa... Are you alright?" Feng Tian rushed to Kuang Feifan’s side and bent down to ask.

"Let me... recover..." Kuang Feifan replied weakly.

Feng Tian shrugged, turned back to carefully secure the doll, and then pulled open the door. He found the main power breaker for the house and flipped the switch; electricity instantly flooded the room.

Feeling the lights come on, Kuang Feifan finally let out a long breath. The truth was, his exhaustion stemmed mainly from significant mental drain; his body hadn't exerted much physical energy. Once the external environment normalized, his mind gradually settled. Thus, after a short while, he was able to slowly stand up, and the fatigue began to recede.

"We're finished here. Shall we head back over there?" Feng Tian asked, seeing Kuang Feifan on his feet.

Kuang Feifan nodded, about to leave, but suddenly called Feng Tian back, asking, "Was the murder case in this room solved?"

Feng Tian paused, then shook his head; he wasn't clear on that matter.

Kuang Feifan murmured an "Mm," and then asked, "You said you would arrange for a deliverance, right?"

Hearing these questions, Feng Tian became slightly startled. He stared intently at Kuang Feifan for a while, frowned, and asked, "Are you really okay?"