Chapter Nine: Half a Human Swine

My heart immediately leapt into my throat, and I instinctively grabbed hold of Wang Feiyang. He turned to look at me with a cold, indifferent expression and asked what I was doing. I shot back, "What are you doing?" Then I told him everything that had happened last night at Zuo Daoyin's house, finishing by asking if he remembered the thief who had snuck into the attic there years ago.

"Are you scared?" Wang Feiyang seemed to regard my current demeanor with contempt.

I truly was scared, because I had no idea what secrets might be hidden in the attic of Zuo Daoyin's house. If the rumors were true and he really raised evil spirits up there, then Wang Feiyang and I were courting disaster. Besides, I didn't believe that the second floor of Zuo Daoyin's house had anything to do with the string of strange events we've encountered.

Wang Feiyang seemed unwilling to waste much effort on me; by now he had already begun climbing the stairs. The rickety floorboards groaned beneath his steps, each sound tugging at my nerves.

Soon, Wang Feiyang reached the attic and slowly walked toward the locked room inside. At the moment he pushed the door open, he seemed to see something terrifying, and quickly retreated two steps. Yet he didn't flee. After standing there for two seconds with a frown, he stepped forward again, removed the rusty lock from the door, and entered the small room.

Once Wang Feiyang was inside, a gust of wind seemed to slam the door shut behind him with a loud creak. I snapped out of my daze and steeled myself to climb up to the attic.

From Wang Feiyang's reaction just now, he had definitely seen something inside that frightened him; that's why he retreated. But now that he was inside, I couldn't back down either.

I pushed open the door and entered. Though I'd prepared myself mentally, the sight inside still sent chills racing through my body.

Zuo Daoyin hadn't been raising evil spirits in his attic as rumored—instead, he was imprisoning a person.

It was a woman with disheveled hair, gaunt as a skeleton, dressed in a yellowed, tattered dress that was almost reduced to rags. Her right foot was shackled with an iron chain that had dug into her flesh, seeming almost fused with her body.

She lay motionless on the ground, lifting her head like a dog. Only then did I realize she had no eyes. More precisely, her eyes had been gouged out years ago. Now, after the wounds had healed, only two sunken scars remained.

My chest tightened with horror. Who could have guessed that Zuo Daoyin's attic held such a terrifying woman? Who was she?

I didn't dare go inside, standing frozen at the doorway, barely daring to breathe.

Wang Feiyang, on the other hand, remained calm. He stood before the woman, scrutinizing her for a few seconds, then slowly crouched down.

The woman reached out her skeletal hand, gently caressing Wang Feiyang's face, then placed her fingers at his lips and opened her mouth. Peering inside, I saw that she had neither tongue nor teeth.

Suddenly, I recalled the old tale of Empress Lü turning Lady Qi into a human swine—gouging out her eyes, cutting off her nose and tongue, pouring mercury into her ears, and finally severing her limbs.

This woman was half a human swine; though her hands and feet remained, her other mutilations were nearly identical.

Was all this Zuo Daoyin's doing? If so, then he was unimaginably cruel—a monster.

I didn't know what the woman meant by placing her finger at Wang Feiyang's lips, but he seemed to understand. He suddenly bit down on her finger until blood welled from the tip.

The woman withdrew her hand and began to draw on the floor with her bloodied finger, forming strange characters. I recognized these symbols—they were the same ones written on spirit houses in Wang Feiyang's family's paper shop.

They must be burial script, meant for the dead. I couldn't decipher them, but Wang Feiyang surely could.

The woman wrote five characters, taking several minutes to finish. Afterwards, her already pale face looked even more ashen; she gasped for breath, like someone on the verge of death.

I stared at those five characters, clueless as to their meaning. Wang Feiyang, however, looked deeply troubled upon reading them.

I didn't dare ask him what they meant. Seeing the woman's growing agony, I felt helpless. Wang Feiyang turned to me and told me to fetch her a glass of water.

Just as I was about to leave, the woman suddenly grabbed Wang Feiyang's arm, shaking her head vigorously.

It seemed her ears still worked. She hurriedly began to write another character on the floor, much faster than before.

The moment she finished, Wang Feiyang sprang to his feet, grabbed me, and bolted downstairs.

Before I could react, he had pulled me out into the courtyard and, in a flash, we scrambled over the wall into the street.

"What happened?"

"Run!"

I wasn't sure if 'run' was the character the woman had just written, but Wang Feiyang was already speeding away from Zuo Daoyin's house. We had barely reached an alley ahead when I saw Zuo Daoyin returning.

Only then did the fear truly hit me. Had we been half a minute later, Zuo Daoyin would have caught us. Remembering his icy glare from the attic yesterday, I shuddered to think what would happen if he discovered we'd been up there.

After some time, my pounding heart slowly calmed. I pulled out a cigarette and lit it, offering one to Wang Feiyang. Then I asked him why he'd suddenly decided to go to Zuo Daoyin's attic, and who the woman inside really was.

Wang Feiyang's expression returned to its former coldness. He said his grandmother had told him to go.

I was startled. "But your grandmother passed away, didn't she?"

Wang Feiyang glanced at me and replied, "Before she died."

His answer confirmed for me that Wang Feiyang had been present when his family was slaughtered last night. I immediately asked what had happened in their paper shop last night.

Wang Feiyang's eyes grew icy. I hurriedly said, "Forget I asked," and quickly changed the subject. "Who is the woman imprisoned in Zuo Daoyin's attic? What did those five characters she wrote mean?"

Wang Feiyang's answer shocked me. He said the woman was Zuo Daoyin's wife, Luo Xiu.

My first reaction was disbelief. Luo Xiu had died of a serious illness more than ten years ago, and most of us on White Street had attended her funeral, witnessing Zuo Daoyin bury her. How could she still be alive?

Wang Feiyang explained that Zuo Daoyin had once been a famous fortune teller on White Street, highly skilled in occult arts. Staging a fake funeral to deceive others would have been easy for him.

I fell silent for a moment, then asked if Wang Feiyang knew why Zuo Daoyin had done this. According to older neighbors, Zuo Daoyin and his wife Luo Xiu had always been deeply affectionate. Why would he torture her so cruelly?

Wang Feiyang shook his head. He said he didn't know, but perhaps it was connected to the bizarre events we'd been experiencing.

I quickly asked what Luo Xiu had written on the floor, why Wang Feiyang's expression had turned so grim after reading it.

Wang Feiyang took a deep drag on his cigarette, stubbed it out on the ground, and said, "Beware of Zuo Daoyin."