If one were perfectly sober at this moment, seeing the Qipao woman approaching Feng Tian, they would surely understand why the exposed skin seen earlier was black. The reason was plain: beneath the Qipao lay a body charred black after being burned—flesh consumed, leaving only blackened bone. No wonder she had appeared frighteningly emaciated moments before.

It was unclear what sort of face lay hidden beneath the cascade of long hair, or why she possessed such a full head of it. Perhaps only a skull, carbonized and barely clinging to residual black flesh, remained. Yet, the occasional glimpse of a white eyeball flickering through the strands suggested her eyes might still persist.

Regardless of her true appearance, she was now gliding silently toward Feng Tian, her hands subtly raised, closing in on his waist as if intending to embrace him.

The three figures in the pavilion seemed utterly unaware of the Qipao woman’s arrival. Two were locked in a deadly struggle, and the third, who still retained some defensive capability, was hunched over as if crippled by abdominal pain, offering no visible means of defense.

Unexpectedly, just as the Qipao woman’s hands were about to brush against Feng Tian, he suddenly lunged forward two steps from his crouched posture, straightened his body with a violent twist, and spat a mouthful of saliva, thick with blood from his tongue, directly at the woman. It was impossible to tell how long he had been holding it; his cheeks were distended before the expulsion.

From the moment Feng Tian felt that strange anomaly surge within him, he recognized it as the Qipao woman’s ploy from the outside. However, the distance made immediate interception difficult. He was certain the erratic surging power within him was connected to the residual soul that had been channeled into his body. After a brief calculation, he decided to feign weakness to lure the Qipao woman into the pavilion.

Though he couldn't ascertain the Qipao woman’s true identity, he had formed a strong suspicion. The residual soul guided into him from Ji Ping must be connected to her, giving him a fifty-percent certainty that she would approach him to amplify the residual soul’s power within him, ultimately aiming for his death.

Yet, his crouching stance wasn't entirely a pretense. The sudden eruption of power inside him had nearly overwhelmed his control. It was only thanks to the prayer beads still clenched in his mouth that he avoided collapsing immediately.

He had bent low specifically to observe behind him through his legs. As he predicted, the Qipao woman had indeed reached him. Her legs, hovering three inches above the ground, confirmed her nature: a female ghost who had been consumed by fire.

Honestly, Feng Tian truly didn't wish to see those withered legs. It was a pity such a fine Qipao was worn by such a specter. After using the beads to suppress the sudden violent surge within, he quietly removed them from his mouth, bit his tongue, and collected saliva. Unfortunately, his timing was slightly off, resulting in a mouth full of blood-tinged fluid that he had to endure holding in agonizingly.

Finally expelling the contents, his jaws ached and felt bloated, compelling him to raise a hand to rub them. Struck full-face by the mixture of saliva and his pure Yang blood, the Qipao ghost instantly lurched backward. Her previous sharp hiss morphed into a shriek of unbearable pain as she raised her charred, bone-like hands to cover her face. Feng Tian’s shot had been devastatingly effective; even now, as the ghost covered her face, wisps of pale smoke rose between her fingers. Even diluted by saliva, his pure Yang blood was akin to concentrated sulfuric acid for a spirit.

However, this single mouthful wouldn't be enough to kill the ghost—at best, it inflicted severe surface wounds, temporarily disabling her ability to harm them.

The Qipao ghost truly seemed grievously injured. Clutching her face, she flickered and vanished from the pavilion, reappearing on the path leading toward the community gate.

The entire episode, from the Qipao ghost's appearance in the pavilion to Feng Tian spitting her away, took barely a minute. Feng Tian immediately turned to check beside him. Ji Ping was still straddling Kuang Feifan, but with the loss of the Qipao ghost's controlling influence, the hands gripping each other’s throats seemed to loosen slightly. Yet, since they remained unconscious, the force exerted hadn't fully dissipated. The hands looked as if they were nearly buried in the flesh of their necks, making Feng Tian instinctively draw in his own throat.

He knew if he didn't act, even after waking, both men would suffer permanent injuries. He gauged the distance, grabbed his flashlight, and tapped the nerves near their elbows—a spot known as a "numb point," also present in the thighs. Their arms instantly went limp, releasing all force. Feng Tian took the opportunity to shove, sending Ji Ping, who had been on top, tumbling to the ground beside them.

Examining them now, deep handprints marked both their necks. As the strangling force vanished, both Kuang Feifan and Ji Ping gasped sharply, touching their throats, their eyes rolling back in a near-death relief. For a moment, neither could speak.

But it seemed their consciousness had returned, and Feng Tian breathed a sigh of relief. He collapsed onto the ground, set the flashlight aside, and settled cross-legged. He held Kuang Feifan’s prayer beads in his hand against his lower abdomen. As a warm current flowed from the beads into his body, he relaxed, allowing the warmth to circulate. Gradually, vapor seemed to emerge from the pores across his skin, coalescing into a dense, ink-black mist that enveloped him like somber armor, refusing to dissipate.

Though Feng Tian was aware of the residual soul's power, he hadn't anticipated this display. He inwardly marveled. If Kuang Feifan hadn't appeared with the beads when he did, successfully expelling the residual soul would have been impossible. Simply whipping it with willow branches, as he'd tried before, might have taken until the Year of the Horse.

The black mist formed by the residual soul ultimately could not withstand the potent spiritual energy contained within the prayer beads; its only fate was to vanish into smoke. Truthfully, the beads exerted far greater power in Feng Tian's hands than Kuang Feifan's, and the spiritual force within made him deeply reluctant to part with them. However, after purging the lingering residue from his body, he rose and fastened the beads back onto Kuang Feifan's wrist.

He knew that it was precisely this immense spiritual energy that had protected Kuang Feifan through repeated brushes with death. Although Kuang Feifan could only truly activate the beads' power at the very brink of demise, providing crucial protection at critical moments, it appeared to be sufficient.

“In a way, you are very lucky,” Feng Tian murmured, stealing a lingering look at the beads, his expression greedy enough to suggest he might try to lick his lips.

The instigating Qipao ghost had been repelled, but that didn't mean they were safe. Many issues remained unresolved, and they needed to leave this place quickly.

Fortunately, after some time, Kuang Feifan and Ji Ping finally regained their strength. Recalling their ordeal, both felt a chill crawl up the back of their necks, overwhelmed by lingering terror.

There was no time to discuss their individual experiences leading up to their convergence. The most urgent matter was getting to the car and returning to the Taoist temple.

Feng Tian picked up his tool bag and announced, "All of you ride with me."

The other two readily agreed. Given their current state, they didn't even want to walk. Furthermore, Feng Tian's vehicle held all his necessary equipment.

They desperately wished Feng Tian would drive the car right to them, but he immediately vetoed that idea. Preposterous—it was a moonless, windy night. Who knew if the ghost would return, or if she had accomplices? If Feng Tian left, Kuang Feifan and Ji Ping, in their present condition, would likely perish without even the chance to resist.

Finally, they managed to inch their way to Feng Tian’s car. Feng Tian got in and opened the door; the other two practically climbed aboard. The small vehicle shuddered and finally pulled onto the road.

Once in the car, they began to exchange brief accounts of what they had encountered.

Ji Ping’s experience was the most straightforward. He never found the manager named Lu. When he arrived at the man's house, the gate was locked, and calls went unanswered. Not wanting the trip to be entirely fruitless, he decided to stake out the entrance, planning to wait for the rabbit. He didn't wait for a rabbit, but instead tired himself out sitting by the door, leaning against the wall until he fell asleep. He awoke only when Kuang Feifan was dragging him by the lake. Upon falling into the water, his senses immediately fogged over, and he had no recollection of ripping off a corpse's head.

When he came to on the bank, he found Feng Tian squatting beside him. Before he could process anything, Feng Tian told him a ghost had possessed him, seemingly very powerful. The quickest and simplest solution was to channel the ghost from his body into Feng Tian's, and then find a way to exorcise it.

Feng Tian interjected to clarify, stating that in the emergency, that was indeed the fastest and simplest method. He had temporarily stunned Ji Ping underwater, and upon reaching the shore, he managed to wake him and barely suppress the ghost controlling his actions. He could feel the spirit was immensely capable, and with his powers at the time, he could only suppress it for a very short period before Ji Ping would fall back under its control. Furthermore, exorcising such a powerful spirit required complex rituals unless the spirit could be induced to switch hosts—which was why Feng Tian chose to become the temporary vessel.

Of course, he didn't merely guide the ghost from Ji Ping into himself; he had also placed certain restraints on his own body beforehand, so the ghost, upon entering him, couldn't seize control.

Feng Tian had believed this method viable, confident he could suppress the intruding spirit at will. However, after using his techniques to transfer the ghost from Ji Ping, he discovered it wasn't a ghost at all, but merely a residual soul. Even more astonishing, despite being only a remnant, it possessed greater power than any full ghost. Even with the safeguards he’d set, he nearly failed to subdue it.

Utterly desperate, he could no longer spare attention for Kuang Feifan underwater. He had to resort to emergency measures: tearing willow branches from a tree by the shore with Ji Ping, twisting them into a willow whip, finding the pavilion in the community, hanging himself upside down, and beginning the whipping.

Kuang Feifan had heard of exorcising spirits with willow branches but wasn't clear on the specifics. Feng Tian’s explanation seemed vague, skipping over details, his words hesitant, as if something crucial was left unsaid.

This, in turn, sparked Kuang Feifan’s curiosity, triggering his notorious habit of prying until the root of the matter was uncovered.

Seeing Kuang Feifan press repeatedly, Ji Ping simply sealed his mouth and stared straight ahead at the driving Feng Tian, provoking Kuang Feifan to lean over the back of the front seat, craning his neck to interrogate Feng Tian.

Finally, Feng Tian cleared his throat several times and said with exasperation, "Why do you insist on dwelling on the fine details of making the willow whip? You know, not everything warrants digging to the very root. Sometimes, it brings no benefit... Ah, fine, but you mustn't lose your temper when I tell you?"