Chapter Twenty-Three: The Ancient Child Doll

It seemed that things were not unfolding as we had hoped. The shattering of the dark talisman and the disappearance of the curse had not eased Su Jin's suffering. Old Liao and I decided to visit Su Jin’s home to find out what was really happening.

Su Jin lived in a well-known villa district in the city. The level of service there was so high that Old Liao and I felt overwhelmed by the hospitality. After the security guard called Aunt Wang, the two of us were ushered onto a sightseeing cart that took us deep into the estate.

We stopped in front of a luxurious standalone villa. At the entrance crouched a fearsome guardian beast, its presence intimidating. Old Liao walked around the house, studying the stone creature. “This beast is called the Coiling Viper, also known as the Centipede Dragon,” he explained. I looked closely: it was neither fish nor dragon, though its head was somewhat draconic—flatter than a dragon’s, adorned with a pair of horns. Its body, four legs, and tail were all covered in dragon scales.

“This divine beast is one of the nine sons of the dragon, meant to ensure peace in all directions. But typically, such a beast is placed on bridges. I just checked the feng shui of this house—the heavenly star lies southeast, with water as its favorable element. But as the saying goes, 'when full, it overflows.' This house’s feng shui is excellent, yet it’s prone to water disasters. Placing the Coiling Viper at the entrance serves as a remedy—whoever thought of this must be quite skilled.”

Just then, the front door creaked open. Aunt Wang, noticing us standing dumbfounded outside, called out anxiously, “What are you two waiting for? I’m worried sick—come inside and see Jin’er!”

Glancing around the villa, it was clear that every piece of furniture and every detail of the decor had been meticulously chosen. As Old Liao later remarked, “The feng shui is exquisite, everything arranged with precision.” Su Jin was leaning against the sofa, sitting on the carpet with her arms wrapped around her knees, trembling uncontrollably.

Looking closer, I saw that the ghastly appearance she’d had during her obesity was gone, along with the corpse-like marks on her belly. She’d reverted to her once pure and beautiful form. No, that wasn’t quite right—now Su Jin was gaunt, almost skeletal. She had no spirit left in her, utterly drained, collapsed on the carpet, unresponsive to our calls.

“A few days ago, she was getting better,” Aunt Wang said anxiously. “The stains and claw marks on her belly faded, her appetite shrank, and we were all so relieved. But then, her appetite dropped off a cliff. At first, she ate a little, but now she refuses even a bite. It’s been two days and a night since she last ate, and she just lies there, weak and listless. We can only feed her some water and milk. If this keeps up, what are we going to do?”

I frowned. By all rights, after Tian Tian’s case was resolved, Su Jin should have returned to normal. Why had things taken such a sinister turn?

As I pondered, I saw a pair of bluish arms slowly wrap around Su Jin’s waist. From behind her, a ghostly, pale-blue infant stepped out—it was the very same little ghost that had appeared at the tattoo shop!

I looked around; it seemed no one else could see it. The ghost child no longer gnawed at Su Jin’s belly, but stared straight at me with dark, vacant eyes, mouth slightly open, twisted fangs protruding as if trying to tell me something.

The little ghost waved at me, beckoning me to follow. I trailed behind it toward the study, with Old Liao and Aunt Wang, curious about my actions, following in tow. We passed through a lavish corridor and up a rosewood staircase to the second-floor study.

The ghost child showed no sign of aggression—rather, it kept banging its head against the bookshelf. I couldn’t fathom the meaning of this strange behavior. Old Liao shook me and whispered, “Hey, brother, what are you looking at? There’s no one here. Don’t tell me you’re possessed...”

I quickly brushed his hand aside. “I see… Su Jin’s child.”

“The ghost infant?”

I nodded, running my hand along the gilded edge of the bookshelf. “He’s right here, hitting the bookcase over and over, as if trying to tell us something.” At that moment, I didn’t notice Aunt Wang’s expression shift—her features torn between pain and relief.

Old Liao, puzzled, stepped forward and felt around the edges of the shelves. “Here, is this where he’s hitting?” Suddenly, a creaking sound drew everyone’s attention—a hidden mechanism whirred inside the bookcase. “So it’s a secret door!”

“Let’s go in and take a look!” I led the way. The other side of the study was a concealed chamber, its wallpaper a ghastly white. Despite the central heating and floor warmers in the house, an inexplicable chill permeated the room. Words like eerie, sinister, and terrifying barely described how I felt as we ventured deeper—until we came upon a blood-red altar.

On the altar, among a jumble of talismans and offerings, sat a jet-black, sinister-looking infant figure at the center.

I glanced at the ghost child, who was baring its teeth in a silent snarl at the black infant on the altar, as if consumed by bitter hatred.

“My god—is that… a Thai Kuman Thong?”

The Kuman Thong is infamous, a name even novices like myself have heard. As one of Southeast Asia’s most notorious dark arts, its creation is especially cruel. In short, the Kuman Thong ritual uses the corpse of an infant to raise a ghost child.

There are many methods for raising a Kuman Thong: blood sacrifices, offerings of good fortune, or even striking pacts to share a body with a ghost. This black art has no boundaries. In Thailand, the popularity of Kuman Thong has even fueled child trafficking and disappearances. Some unscrupulous hospitals sell aborted fetuses and abandoned newborns to practitioners of the black arts, who are willing to pay high prices for these tiny corpses. The greater the resentment and suffering of these forsaken children, the stronger the effect.

“Aunt Wang, now it’s time for you to finally explain where this Kuman Thong came from, isn’t it?”