Chapter Eight: Striving for Self-Rescue

My grandfather’s hands dangled right before my eyes, while behind me I could feel the sting of someone’s fingernails digging into my back.

The demon-faced tumor had reached out from behind!

With a sudden motion, I thrust the ironwood bark I held straight at my grandfather. The ironwood bark, already poised and waiting to bite, sank its teeth deeply into his arm.

Wracked by pain, my grandfather grabbed the serpent’s tail and yanked it outward with all his strength, tossing the snake away, but its broken fangs remained embedded in his flesh.

Gripping my grandfather’s arm with both hands, I used my momentum to hurl us both forward, swinging him over my shoulder and slamming him into the mud.

A hand reached to his back, grabbing hold of something soft and yielding; I pulled at it desperately with all my might.

Hu Sanqi had told me before: when something filthy latches onto a living person, it forms a connection—hurt the person, and the spirit feels pain as well. Especially when someone is about to be killed, the evil thing will always try to escape.

With no choice left, I had to try whether I could wrench the demon-faced tumor out.

At that moment, my grandfather lay face down in the wet mud, already poisoned by the snake; in a few minutes at most, he would be dead.

If I couldn’t pull the demon-faced tumor out within a minute or two, I’d have no choice but to accept our fate.

I clamped my fingers around its throat and pulled. Its ghastly hands seized my arms in return, talon-like fingers digging deep into my flesh, black blood beading and dripping steadily down my arms.

Then I drew out the tiger’s fang and stabbed it straight into the brow of the demon-faced tumor.

This time, the fang sank in halfway, and a blaze of crimson light erupted like fire around it. The demon-faced tumor ignited in my palm, blazing like a fireball.

I’d known before that the tiger’s fang could ward off evil—but I had never imagined it could wield such power.

Though the demon-faced tumor was ablaze, it struggled furiously in my grip.

I simply let go of the tiger’s fang and clamped both hands around its neck, not daring to loosen my hold for even a fraction of a second.

Seeing it could not break free, the demon-faced tumor shrieked, “Boy, don’t you find it strange you can seize a ghost with your bare hands?”

“I tell you, that fox spirit set this trap for you on purpose. You’re just a piece in his game. Let me go—only I can save you now.”

I tightened my fingers in silence. Flames shot from between them, and the demon-faced tumor’s talons sank all the way into my arms.

Fortunately, the fierce-looking flames were only ghostly fire, unable to harm the living; otherwise, my arms would have been ruined already.

Within seconds, I could feel the strength draining from the demon-faced tumor’s hands. It gritted its teeth and hissed, “Boy, let go, and we’ll both have a chance to live. Otherwise, you’re dead for sure.”

“You think everyone in the Child Pagoda is human? The most formidable among them are human-born spirits. Let me go, and I’ll tell you how to deal with them.”

I clenched my jaw, saying nothing, and strangled the thing until it turned to ash in my hands. Then I dragged my grandfather up onto the bank.

That left thirteen demon-faced tumors.

There was no time for relief; my grandfather’s fate was still hanging by a thread. I knelt to check on him.

My grandfather was a veterinarian and knew how to treat snake venom. Following the methods he’d taught me, I quickly found some local herbs, chewed them, and applied the paste to his wound.

As the old saying goes: “Wherever a venomous creature lurks, within five paces you’ll find its antidote.” The key is knowing what you’re looking for.

For now, my grandfather was out of immediate danger. Xie Tianzong, too, had only fainted, though his face had aged noticeably. It seemed that when the spirit named Twenty-One pulled the demon-faced tumor from Xie Tianzong, it had siphoned off a portion of his vital energy, leaving him unconscious.

As for Xie Tianzong’s demon-faced tumor, it must have been devoured by Twenty-One; otherwise, there’d be some trace of it.

That meant there were twelve demon-faced tumors left.

As I watched over my grandfather and Xie Tianzong, my mind raced.

That demon-faced tumor had called me “a piece in Hu Sanqi’s game”—I hadn’t believed a word of it.

I can still tell right from wrong; I wouldn’t fall for such attempts at sowing discord.

Besides, Hu Sanqi had told me long ago: calamity is fated by the heavens. In other words, a calamity is a deadlock set by fate, but also a test and a forge for you. Only you can overcome it; no one else can take your place or shield you from it. Even if you manage to dodge it for a while, sooner or later it will return in another form, perhaps harder than before.

Only by surviving calamity can you truly grow; otherwise, you’ll remain ordinary all your life.

So I’d always known Hu Sanqi wouldn’t help me through this ordeal.

He’d taught me what I needed to know; the rest was up to me.

As for why I could seize the demon-faced tumor with my bare hands, it made perfect sense.

Those with weak constitutions and insufficient yang energy can sometimes see spirits even without the “yin-yang eyes.” Those with heavy yin energy might not see them, but can feel them by touch.

When a person walks into a graveyard or other place heavy with yin energy, they mustn’t wave their hands about; by then, yin energy is already clinging to them, and a careless move can make contact with something unclean.

After what happened at my birth, my body had always been laden with yin energy. It was no surprise I could grab a ghost with my bare hands.

But I wasn’t naïve enough to think I could rip every ghost out of my family by force.

My grandfather’s rescue this time was pure luck—what about next time? Would I have to batter someone half to death before acting again?

If I misjudged, it wouldn’t be half-dead, it would be truly dead.

I couldn’t gamble like that!

But if I didn’t get rid of those things, all that awaited me was passive suffering. I couldn’t fight, couldn’t flee—wasn’t that a dead end?

As anxiety gnawed at me, a sudden inspiration flashed through my mind.

I remembered hearing that sometimes, when someone is haunted, the spirit will follow them home, causing havoc and making demands.

If you run into a ghost with a sense of shame, once you give what it wants, it leaves you alone; if you encounter one without scruples, the more you give, the more it pesters you.

In such cases, the simplest solution is to find its grave and drive peachwood nails around it in a circle; then the ghost can no longer leave its tomb.

If that fails, dig up the grave and burn the coffin to ashes, destroying the spirit entirely and leaving no further threat.

I didn’t know whether such methods would work against the demon-faced tumors in the Child Pagoda—but I had no other ideas left.

So I waited at the scene for over ten minutes, watching until my grandfather and Xie Tianzong’s breathing grew steady and safe. Then I used my bayonet to cut branches, covering them, and slipped quietly home.

Hu Sanqi had prepared far more than just a couple of tools for exorcising spirits; the rest were packed in a yellow cloth satchel. My first goal upon returning home was to fetch that bag.

With those items in hand, at least I’d have a fighting chance to protect myself.