The Three Pure Ones' Secret: Expressing Spirit

The old man's series of farts were so stinky that the entire living room reeked. My friend was so overwhelmed by the stench that he felt dizzy, his stomach churned, and his face contorted in pain. He almost vomited on the spot.

The atmosphere was extremely tense, and everyone thought a fierce battle was about to break out.

As a result, while I was feeling dizzy and disoriented from the stench, Fan Biao next to me had already moved silently.

He held his breath the entire time, and taking advantage of the moment when the evil spirit was distracted by the stench of the fart and retreated while pinching its nose, he moved as lightly as a cat and quietly circled behind the evil spirit without making a sound.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that he was already tightly clutching a yellow talisman in his right hand, his eyes were sharp, his expression was tense, and his whole aura had completely changed, without a trace of his usual carefree demeanor.

When the time was right, Fan Biao didn't hesitate at all. He flicked his wrist and slapped the entire talisman solidly onto the back of the evil spirit!

"Aww~!!"

A sharp, piercing, and incredibly mournful scream suddenly rang out in the living room! The voice was both high-pitched and hoarse, carrying an icy chill that sent shivers down one's spine.

The moment the talisman was applied, it trembled violently and its body twisted, clearly in great discomfort.

However, this evil spirit's malevolent aura was indeed heavy enough that a single talisman could only severely injure it, not completely suppress it.

In just two or three seconds, the yellow talisman stuck to its back began to hiss and emit white smoke, quickly turning black and curling up, and finally "whoosh" it completely burned into fine black ash that scattered in the wind and disappeared.

The evil spirit clearly sensed the deadly danger around it and knew that there must be something dangerous nearby. Without hesitation, it ran away.

Ignoring its disheveled state from the stench, it stiffly twisted and turned, completely disregarding its surroundings, and tried to escape.

Fan Biao reacted quickly. Seeing the creature trying to escape, he immediately reached into his pocket and pulled out a short, green bamboo tube. The tube looked simple and unadorned, about the length of a palm, and smooth all over. He raised his hand, aimed it at the fleeing demon, and gently blew on it.

Several needles, as thin as hair and almost invisible to the naked eye, shot out instantly from the bamboo tube and accurately pierced the ghost's phantom body.

Strangely, the evil spirit did not react at all after the needle, which was supposed to break the curse and lock the soul, was struck.

It doesn't hurt or itch, there's no reaction at all, it's like being stuck in the air.

I was completely stunned.

Then, an absurd scene unfolded. The ghost, completely disregarding what was happening, bent its two ethereal legs slightly, its posture comically resembling bowlegs, and swayed left and right as it ran towards the kitchen wall, crashing headfirst into it.

All that could be seen was a flicker of black mist on the wall, with ripples spreading slightly, and the ghostly figure vanished without a trace the next second.

The huge living room instantly became empty, and the biting cold wind also subsided by more than half.

I stood there, eyes wide, completely stunned, feeling both speechless and wanting to laugh. I had thought this was a vengeful ghost with overwhelming malevolent energy, and that a fierce battle was definitely in store for me tonight.

The result truly overturned my understanding. The ghost that looked fierce and terrifying was actually a coward who was the best at running away!

Before the fight even officially started, it chickened out and turned tail and ran away.

Just as I was dazed and making sarcastic remarks, Fan Biao's expression changed drastically. His brows furrowed, and he quickly reminded me, "Don't just stand there, Lao Pu! Hurry up and chase after them!"

Without a word, Fan Biao and I set off to follow the ghostly figure. Peng Guoqiang, who was not in the underworld, naturally couldn't see the ugly and frightening ghost. He watched helplessly as we hurriedly and nervously stared at the air, completely dumbfounded.

He was still drunk and his head was spinning. He was convinced that Lao Fan and I were just acting and pretending to scare him. He shook his head helplessly and said with a hint of mockery, "Hey, you two brothers, that's enough. You don't have to take acting so seriously, do you? Aren't you tired in the middle of the night?"

We don't have time to pay attention to his teasing right now. When it comes to the chase, who the hell has the mind to explain to him?

Old Fan didn't stop walking. He turned around and quickly gave a serious instruction: "Uncle Peng, you stay in the villa and don't go anywhere. We're going out for a bit and will be back soon."

Peng Guoqiang didn't take it seriously at all, thinking we were just going through the motions. He waved his hand drunkenly, looking completely indifferent, leaned back on the sofa, and gestured for us to go wherever we wanted, while he stayed comfortably at the Huang family villa waiting for us to return.

I followed Fan Biao quickly out of the villa gate. The night wind blew in our faces, chilling us to the bone.

The night was deep, and the entire street was eerily quiet, without a single sound of people or vehicles.

Fan Biao casually rolled up his sleeves, revealing a Yin-Yang distinguishing device on his wrist. As he walked quickly forward, he stared intently at the faint light dot on the device's pointer, precisely locking onto the location of the Yin energy.

I quickly chased after him to the entrance of the residential area. The instrument needle steadily pointed to the end of the road where the streetlights extended, without any slight tremor or deviation.

Judging from the trajectory, the evil spirit didn't go far at all. It must have fled to this area and found a corner with heavy yin energy to hide in.

While keeping an eye on the instrument, Lao Fan casually explained to me, "This thing can't go far. I've locked onto it with my silver needles, so it's definitely hiding nearby. Just be careful and follow the instrument."

The temperature dropped lower and lower at night, and gusts of cold wind blew in, making people feel cold all over. To make tracking easier, Lao Fan suggested scanning shared bicycles to get around.

Dude, I had no objection. We each scanned a shared electric scooter and straddled it. Lao Fan kept his head down, watching the movement of the device on his wrist, while slowly riding the scooter towards the road ahead.

The moon was hazy tonight, and the clouds were thick in the sky. A breeze blew, and the clouds drifted back and forth, dimming the moonlight and creating a gloomy, desolate atmosphere. Fortunately, a row of old streetlights shone with a dim yellow light, barely illuminating the way ahead, preventing it from being completely dark.

I followed behind on my bike, the sweat drying in the damp, cold air, the biting wind feeling like knives. My gaze casually swept across both sides of the street, and that one glance instantly sent a chill down my spine, making the hairs on my back stand on end.

Along both sides of the empty street, countless blurry figures drifted aimlessly. Their feet were off the ground as they slowly floated back and forth along the street. Each face was ashen white, expressionless, with empty, lifeless eyes, devoid of any trace of life.

My heart skipped a beat. I knew in my heart that these were not people at all, but wandering ghosts.

Along the entire night road, ghosts would occasionally wander around, making my buddy's scalp tingle and his eyes darting away. He could only follow closely behind Lao Fan's car.

We rode our electric scooters for several kilometers.

The city buildings gradually faded away, and the surroundings became increasingly remote. Lao Fan led me through the narrow streets, turning left and right, and before we knew it, we had ridden directly to the suburban factory area.

This area is practically deserted; hardly anyone comes here on weekdays, and at night, you can't even see a single passing car. Most of the streetlights along the road are broken and unusable, with only a few remaining, barely lit. The light flickers dimly, as if it's about to go out completely, teetering on the verge of collapse.

The entire area was desolate and silent, exuding an aura of decay and coldness.

The road was full of potholes and extremely difficult to walk on. The low-lying potholes were filled with murky rainwater, and wild grass grew rampant and tangled along the roadside. Two tall, old walls stood on either side of the road, with thorny bushes taller than a person at their base, and the weeds intertwined, making it look messy and eerie.

The entire area was deserted and lifeless, and the chill seeped into my clothes.

Fortunately, the shared electric vehicles have a small light on the front, and the faint light barely pierces the darkness, allowing us to see the bumpy road ahead.

Old Fan carefully maneuvered the handlebars, swaying left and right, avoiding puddles and protruding pebbles along the way. As he rode, he suddenly stopped slowly under a large tree.

Seeing this, I immediately rode my bike to his side. Looking at the desolate and eerie surroundings, I was filled with doubt and asked in a low voice, "What's wrong, Lao Fan? Have we arrived? Is that ghost hiding here?"

Old Fan didn't reply immediately. He looked down and carefully examined the Yin-Yang distinguisher on his wrist, watching the direction where the pointer was trembling violently. Then he looked up and stared intently at the dense and messy bushes next to him. His expression instantly became serious.

He dropped his casual laughter, lowered his voice, and earnestly warned me, "Be careful, the yin energy is getting stronger. That thing is definitely hiding around here. Stay close behind me the whole time, don't wander off, and be careful!"

I glanced at the wisps of gray mist around me, nodded immediately, my heart pounding, and gestured for him to lead the way.

Surrounded by barren trees, high walls, and overgrown weeds and thorns, the fleeing ghost lurked in the darkness beneath this gloomy wasteland.

The moonlight was dim, and a cold wind from the outskirts of the city swept through the treetops, carrying the chill and dampness of the desolate countryside, making me shiver involuntarily. I followed closely behind Lao Fan, and by the faint light left by the tram, I bent down and squeezed into the narrow path through the bushes.

The roadside weeds grew taller than a person, their tangled branches and sharp thorns spreading everywhere, densely intertwined. The leaves brushed against clothes, making a soft, rustling sound that was particularly jarring in the deathly silence of the night. The ground was covered with soft, damp mud and withered grass, slippery and cool to the touch, the sound of muddy feet scraping against each step clearly audible. I had initially thought this desolate thicket was completely impassable, but as I walked along the base of the high wall, I discovered a narrow dirt path had been carved out by someone.

The road surface, pressed down firmly by years of footsteps, has shed its tangled weeds and meanders deep into the walled area, indicating that people or other things frequently pass through here.

Old Fan and I crouched low, slowly making our way along the cold wall, one after the other. The old wall had fallen into disrepair over the years; its surface was mottled and cracked, with large areas of the plaster and mortar peeling off. At the slightest touch, crumbs would crumble, revealing the dark, rough red bricks beneath. The wall was covered in cracks and blackened moss, damp and sticky to the touch, exuding a musty smell of years of decay.

After walking about ten meters forward, Lao Fan suddenly stopped and exclaimed in surprise, "Holy crap, no wonder there's a path here! Who made a hole in here?!"

I followed his gaze and saw a noticeable gap in the middle of the wall. Someone must have pried off a red brick, leaving a hole just big enough for one person to squeeze through sideways. The bricks around the hole were uneven, weathered, and blackened with dampness. Dry vines clung to the hole, making it look eerie and dilapidated.

Old Fan frowned, staring intently at the Yin-Yang distinguishing device on his wrist. The light on the device was flashing wildly, much more pronounced than the reaction he'd seen by the roadside earlier. His expression was grave, his voice low and wary: "Be careful, don't let your guard down. The Yin energy here has completely gathered, all clustered behind the wall. It's definitely not an ordinary Yin place. There's a high probability it's a long-abandoned area behind there; that ghost is definitely hiding in there."

I nodded emphatically, my heart filled with tension and fear. We had chased it all the way from bustling streets to desolate suburbs, but I never expected that this ghost would finally hide in this deserted, dilapidated factory. Such places are filled with smog and malevolent energy, making them the perfect hiding place for evil spirits.

I took a deep breath of the damp, cool night air, suppressing the panic in my heart, and followed Lao Fan, bending down and carefully crawling through the hole in the red brick wall.

The moment I passed through the hole in the wall, a much denser, colder, and more piercing chill rushed in, completely different from the night wind outside. The cold here was a deathly, chilling cold that seeped into my body through my mouth and nose, freezing my internal organs, making me stiff all over and my scalp tingle.

What came into view was a hazy gray fog and a completely abandoned old factory.

The entire factory area had been abandoned for countless years, completely deserted. The cement ground beneath our feet had long lost its original smoothness and color; it was uneven, riddled with cracks, and filled with lush green moss and tangled weeds. The slippery moss covered most of the ground, making it slippery and wet, and one could easily slip and fall if one wasn't careful.

The ground was covered with withered weeds, gravel, and rotten wood chips, piled up haphazardly everywhere, a scene of desolation and ruin.

We didn't dare to delay, so we slowed down and slowly explored forward along the dirt road in the middle of the factory area. After walking for about thirty or forty meters, our view suddenly opened up, and we came to the center of a wide main passage.

Rows of old, dilapidated corrugated iron factory buildings stand on both sides of the road. The tall factory frames are broken and mottled, indicating that this place was once quite large. This wide passage was obviously the main road used by large trucks to load and unload goods when the factory was in operation.

The moon was hazy tonight, the clouds gathering and dispersing, and sparse moonlight filtered through them, barely piercing the darkness. The moonlight vaguely outlined the dilapidated factory buildings on either side. The rusted corrugated iron walls gleamed a dark gray-black in the dim night. The wind whistled through the empty factory area, passing through the cracks in the ruins, making a low, mournful sound, like someone sobbing softly in the shadows, sending chills down one's spine.

Old Fan glanced down at the instrument on his wrist, his gaze fixed on the front: "It's just ahead. The evil aura is getting stronger and stronger. That ghost is hiding nearby."

I followed closely behind him, not daring to stray even a step, my eyes scanning the factory buildings on both sides warily.

Every factory building along the way was open, without doors or windows to shield them, the empty workshops exposed to the night. On the workshop floors were large, square, deep concrete pits, neatly arranged, likely the foundation pits used to house large production machinery when the factories were first built. Years later, the machinery had long since been removed, leaving only these empty pits.

All the factory buildings were empty, except for construction debris, broken sheet metal, rotten wood, and piles of dust and garbage. As far as the eye could see, it was a scene of utter devastation, a dilapidated wasteland abandoned for years.

We explored along the main road, passing through seven or eight empty workshops. Each factory building was exactly the same desolate scene, with no unusual activity and no trace of the ghostly figure.

The further I went, the heavier the yin energy became, and the more intense the oppressive feeling became. My palms were slightly sweaty, and my heart was constantly in my throat. I stared intently at the dark corners around me, afraid that something might suddenly jump out from the shadows.

As they walked deeper into the factory area, nearing the end of the hillside, Lao Fan, who was walking ahead, suddenly stopped.

I immediately stopped what I was doing, took two steps closer, and followed his gaze to the last factory building in front of me.

This factory was completely different from the workshops along the way. It was a whole circle smaller and stood alone at the foot of the hillside, next to the dense forest behind the mountain. Its location was remote and secluded. Precisely because it was backed by the mountain and built against the mountain, the yin energy here was more concentrated than that of other factories. The surrounding air was cold and stagnant, and even the wind seemed to stand still.

I lowered my voice and asked softly, "Is this the place? All the malevolent energy is gathered here?"

Old Fan nodded slightly, his eyes sharp and serious. He carefully scanned every detail of the small factory, glanced at the instrument on his wrist, and said in a deep voice, "That's right, the heaviest and densest evil energy is coming from here. That thing must be hidden inside."

I followed his gaze and carefully examined the factory building in front of me, which was surrounded by swirling gray mist.

The front of the factory building is a single, old iron roller shutter door, exposed to wind and sun year-round, long since thoroughly corroded and oxidized by rain and moisture. The once smooth iron sheet is now rusted and dilapidated, the door panel riddled with holes and cracks of all sizes, the edges rusted and peeling off, incomplete and broken. With the slightest breeze, the rusted iron sheet sways slightly, emitting a soft creaking sound, exuding a strong sense of decay and age.

The roller shutter door was tightly shut without a gap, and to its side was a small door that had originally been used for passage, but it was long since broken. The entire door had rotted and broken, crashing to the ground. After years of wind and rain, decay and weathering, the door panel had turned into fine wood chips and rust fragments scattered all over the ground, mixed with the soil and weeds, becoming one with the ground. Only the empty door frame remained on the wall, dark and staring at us, like a silent, wide-open black hole.

A gentle night breeze rustled through the forest behind the mountain, stirring the surrounding weeds. The entire factory area was deathly silent, save for the mournful sound of the wind. I stood there, tense, barely daring to breathe, my gaze fixed on the gloomy, dilapidated little factory building before me.