Yin Shou Shu

Chapter 287 The Resentment of the Locals
The old man in the wheelchair spoke, and the crowd in the fog was suddenly stunned.

The corpse-driving Taoist priest quickly looked around and sneered, "As expected of that filthy old man, Master Shou. No wonder he hates the spirit-walking lineage so much..."

And that hoarse, deep voice that had been acting mysteriously before rang out again.

But this time, Master Shou's voice sounded somewhat annoyed.

"...I am a living person too, why can't I participate in the Dharma assembly?"

The direction of the voice was still unclear, and it was impossible to tell who was speaking.

But the old man in the wheelchair stared coldly at the empty chair, a chilling and eerie light flickering in his cloudy, dim eyes. His lips moved, and he uttered a childlike voice once more.

"...Please leave, Master Shou."

The old man's voice was clear and his tone was calm, but an invisible pressure emanated from the mist.

Everyone present instinctively sat up straight and looked at the empty chair.

On the empty chair, the mist in that area began to stir slightly.

Immediately afterwards, a figure shrouded in mist stood up from the chair.

Its form was indistinct in the mist, but its venomous gaze swept over everyone present.

Finally, Old Master Shou said angrily and resentfully, "I hope that everyone here tonight will be wiped out by the ghost realm of Wujiang!"

With a bitter curse, the figure, enveloped in thick fog, walked away and quickly disappeared into the ruins of the half-collapsed roof.

As Master Shou left, the grand chair he had been sitting on bounced and leaped into the foggy ruins.

An empty seat appeared among the people sitting around the coffin.

The elderly man in the wheelchair was pushed by the wooden figure, listlessly filling the empty space, and then looked at the people on his left and right.

"...Among those present, some are old friends, but some are new friends."

"Let me introduce myself. I come from the lineage of Jinlun Temple in Daxueshan. My secular name is Chuan Zengji. I moved to Zangke fifteen years ago, so I am considered a semi-local."

"I have invited you all here tonight to talk about the recent disaster caused by the opening of the gates of hell."

"The catastrophe that happened ten years ago should be clear to all of you here, and some of your relatives and friends may have even died in it."

"I never imagined that just ten years later, the gates of hell would open wide once again..."

The elderly Kawasakichi, slumped in a wheelchair, introduced himself in a clear voice, giving his opening remarks.

The people sitting around the coffin remained silent. The twenty-seven people in the mist had different expressions and were all lost in their own thoughts.

But from the small circle of thirteen people to the side, a piercing laugh suddenly rang out from among the thirteen figures shrouded in black mist.

The laughter was laced with sarcasm and mockery, and Xiong Dacheng, a burly and robust man, laughed the most arrogantly.

These jarring laughs interrupted Kawasakichi's speech.

But the elderly man remained silent for a while, waiting for the laughter from next door to subside before continuing to speak as if nothing had happened.

"...With the gates of hell wide open, we members of the Xuanmen sect are the first to be affected."

“Many people died ten years ago. We should learn from the painful lessons of that time.” “These past few days I’ve been thinking that if we can join forces and deal with what’s behind the Red Gate, perhaps we can stop this disaster.”

"My sixth aunt, who was a spirit medium, once discussed the feasibility of this matter with me before she passed away. Spirit mediums who frequently travel to and from the ghost realm of Wujiang also believed that this matter was feasible."

"If we join forces to seal off the Red Gate and block the Wuzhai Pass, perhaps we can prevent the things deep within the Wujiang Ghost Realm from emerging..."

The elderly man's voice was childlike, and his tone was full of sincerity, making people subconsciously want to believe him.

Although it was their first meeting, Ran Qing felt that the old man in front of her possessed a kind of compassionate and Buddhist nature that made her want to trust him.

But this old man actually knows Aunt Liu?

Ran Qing glanced at Mo Li, who had transformed into a middle-aged village woman, without making a sound. Mo Li noticed Ran Qing's gaze, and the two looked at each other. The girl gently shook her head, indicating that she did not know.

However, it's not surprising, since Mo Li didn't inherit her sixth aunt's mantle, and her sixth aunt naturally wouldn't take her daughter with her when she went out.

After the old man, Kawasakichi, finished speaking, everyone present fell silent.

In the small circle next door, the figures shrouded in black mist sneered and yelled again. Although they didn't say anything provocative, their wild and arrogant laughter and yelling were clearly mocking the old man on this side.

Kawasakichi, in his wheelchair, lay quietly, unmoved by the harsh laughter.

An eerie silence lasted for a while, and even the loud-mouthed, flamboyant corpse-driving Taoist priest remained silent, as if he were following some kind of rule.

The crowd looked around and Ran Qing noticed that the Taoist priests and monks dressed as Taoists were all keeping their eyes down and not saying a word, as if they were not going to speak.

On the contrary, the Zangke villagers, dressed in local ethnic costumes, with dark and rough skin, who were clearly locals, had changing expressions and restless sitting postures.

Finally, the Gu Master with a venomous snake wrapped around his neck spoke.

He stared coldly at Kawasakichi in his wheelchair, his gaze sweeping over the thirteen ghostly figures next door.

The Gu Master, speaking in a heavily accented Zangke dialect, said coldly, "We Zangke people have always been like this, and we used to have ways to cope. Our ancestors found ways to survive. If it weren't for you outsiders running in and causing trouble, would we be in this mess?"

"Once the gates of hell open, everyone wants to dig up the coffin of the Ghost King, and everyone wants to live forever. You can't stop them no matter what you do."

"The gates of hell used to open only once every few decades!"

"Now, because of you, it has opened again after only ten years. All the methods invented by our ancestors are no longer effective. Now everyone is in danger."

"Ten years ago, when you guys were rushing in, I tried to persuade a lot of people, but they wouldn't listen to reason, not even ten oxen could pull them back."

"As for joining forces to block the Wuzhai Pass... can you even enter the ghost realm of the Wujiang River? You're just making ghostly noises at Zhidian."

The Gu Master stared at the old man in the wheelchair and coldly cursed, "Since Aunt Liu is dead, and there's no new ghost guide, how can we enter the Wujiang Ghost Realm without one to lead the way?"

The Gu Master spoke angrily, his gaze sweeping over the crowd with a hint of resentment. He was filled with hatred for these outsiders, such as monks, Taoists, and itinerant knife sellers.

He spoke up at this moment, making no attempt to hide his inner resentment.

After the Gu Master finished speaking, a middle-aged woman whose head was wrapped in black cloth in layers, forming a black hat, coughed and spoke.

"...Old Liu Pinglezhi said some harsh things, but they were indeed the truth."

“We locals and the ghosts inside actually have a balance. It's you outsiders who mess things up and disrupt that balance.”

(End of this chapter)