Chapter Fifty: The Sinister House at Dragon Ridge

“A corpse-breeding ground?”
“Yes, perhaps due to the dragon vein running behind Dragon Ridge, the feng shui of this area has turned exceedingly ominous, making it a place where corpses are bred.” Old Liao crossed his arms, his expression darkening.
“Isn’t good feng shui supposed to be here?” The mention of a dragon vein brought to mind those tomb-raiding novels, with their descriptions of auspicious land.
Ah Hao shot me a sidelong glance. “Not every dragon vein brings good fortune. Even among the dragons, there are ill-fated ones—dead dragons, malevolent dragons.”
“Then this place…”
“For the dead, this might be an ideal resting ground. But for the living… the evil energy here is overwhelming, more than ordinary people can withstand.” Old Liao sighed, casting his gaze around the silent surroundings. “Besides, grounds where corpses are bred are prone to attracting ghosts and specters.”
Who in their right mind would build luxury homes in such a remote, ill-omened place? The story behind Dragon Ridge Manor was clearly far from simple.
I glanced at Ah Hao, who nodded at me. Well, for Ah Hao’s brother, we’d take the risk.
“Hello, Miss Xia Liang? We’ve just entered the community—how do we get to your house?” I dialed Xia Liang’s number.
“Go straight… (die) to the end (die) and you’ll be there (just die), I’ll be waiting downstairs (waiting for you all to die),”
As Xia Liang spoke, the line crackled with static, and beneath that electric hiss, rough, hoarse whispers could be faintly heard, bearing a chilling message of death.
I sucked in a sharp breath, steadied my nerves, and handed the phone to Old Liao.
He too was startled near out of his wits and nearly dropped my phone.
For all Old Liao called himself a Daoist prodigy, boasting of countless exorcisms, his expertise was mostly theoretical. When truly faced with such eerie places, he was always the first to want to run.
He turned to Ah Hao. “Brother, the ghosts have already warned us through the phone—are we still going in?”
Seeing Old Liao wavering again, I landed a quick smack to the back of his head.
“You old coot, trying to back out again?”
“Heh, caution is the parent of safety, isn’t it?”
“Don’t worry. This time, I came prepared.” I patted my bulging sports backpack, the clinking of bottles and jars inside lending weight to my words.
At that, Old Liao seemed to recall something and dropped the idea of retreat entirely, grinning sheepishly as he hid behind Ah Hao’s spirit guardian.
“Rest assured, gentlemen. Whatever dangers await, I’ll do my utmost to see you both out safely. This matter began with me; I won’t let either of you lose your lives because of it.”
The lights were dim. The road was lined with locust trees, their shadows swaying as the wind moaned through the branches, casting ghostly silhouettes everywhere.

Walking beneath the yellowish glow of the lamps, surrounded by those shifting shadows, the air pressed down with an almost suffocating weight.
The main road through the neighborhood wasn’t long. Soon, we reached the end—and there was Xia Liang, standing by the roadside.
Yet something was off about her.
She wore a long, white dress, hands hanging at her sides. Her hair was cropped short, but her features were blurred, indistinct.
The white dress fluttered eerily in the chill wind.
Suddenly, Ah Hao stopped short. Old Liao, close behind, stumbled and ran straight into his back.
“Watch where you’re going!” Old Liao grumbled, rubbing his sore forehead.
“That woman… she doesn’t have any feet…”
I quickly looked over. Xia Liang’s white dress billowed in the wind, and beneath its hem—there was nothing.
She was floating above the ground.
Was Xia Liang a ghost or a living person?
“Should… should we still go?” Old Liao’s voice trembled, perhaps recalling the eerie warning from the phone. He cowered behind Ah Hao, knees knocking together.
“Don’t panic. We deal with ghosts all the time, don’t we? Let’s get closer and see.” I steadied Old Liao, though my own nerves were taut. Ah Hao was nowhere near as capable as Brother Xiao Lin.
It was like two level-30s in World of Warcraft running a dungeon, with the max-level carry suddenly going offline, leaving us weaklings to stare helplessly at the boss. How were we supposed to manage?
As the three of us hesitated, Ah Hao moved forward.
I quickly dragged Old Liao along.
Strangely, just as we neared the intersection, “Xia Liang” vanished—
Leaving only the three of us gaping at one another.
“Where did she go?”
“Ah Hao, are you sure you saw that Xia Liang didn’t have feet?”
“Not just no feet—she didn’t even have a shadow.” I confirmed what I’d seen as well.
Just then, as we whispered outside the building, Xia Liang’s voice floated toward us from behind:
“What are you three doing out here?”

The sudden voice sent a shock through me and Old Liao.
“Miss Xia… did you just come out from inside?” Old Liao asked, testing her.
“Yes, I just tidied up, took a shower, and came down.”
“Then what we saw…”
“What?”
“N-nothing.”
So, what we’d seen wasn’t Xia Liang after all. But why did the vengeful ghost vanish as we approached? And why did it appear in Xia Liang’s form?
Ah Hao followed Xia Liang toward the mansion. Old Liao and I fell in behind, and he tugged at my sleeve, whispering, “This seems nastier than the ghost at Lijing Garden. Tell me honestly, what backup do you have?”
I swung my backpack around, unzipped it, and revealed a crimson-covered ancient text, giving Old Liao a meaningful look.
“You actually learned Soul Embroidery?” Old Liao’s eyes widened in shock.
“I wouldn’t call it mastery—more like a new insight. There shouldn’t be any trouble. Old Jin gave me something potent this morning. We’re here to help Ah Hao find Sun Xing and to test the effects of Yin Embroidery.”
I patted Old Liao’s shoulder, signaling him to stay calm, and urged him forward.
It had to be said, this luxury estate was impressive. Nestled between mountain and water, the air was fresh, and the vast grounds meant almost every villa had its own yard and pool—far more space than city villas.
Xia Liang’s mansion was particularly grand. Passing through the iron gates, we were greeted by meticulously trimmed gardens and sculpted trees on either side.
These artistic creations stood silently along the path, as if welcoming our arrival.
Yet, as I walked through the courtyard, an uneasy sense of being watched crept over me. No matter how I looked, I saw no one else, and a chill ran down my spine.
We soon reached the grand entrance. Xia Liang slid her long-handled key into the lock, turning it gently. The three-meter-tall door creaked open to reveal a brightly lit, opulent interior.
I brought up the rear, closing the door behind me. For a moment, I thought I saw a human face peering from the trunk of a dead tree in the yard, its gaze fixed on me, one branch waving slowly in my direction.
With a bang, the door shut. The wind, the insects’ calls, and the whisper of small creatures were all sealed outside.
Inside the courtyard, the plants began to writhe and twist, and on those bare wooden carvings, pale human faces gradually emerged…