The Hand of Confession – Chapter 267

Volume 8: The Days of the Ghost Marriage

Evil Arts¹

Formations²

Potato Chip was somewhat silent.

Mainly, she did not know what she should say.

She was somewhat speechless, yet she also felt a strange sense of ease.

The thing she regarded as shackles was so unworthy of mention in others’ eyes; the dissatisfaction in her heart was probably like a joke to everyone else. This deep hatred and resentment, born from trivial matters that had accumulated bit by bit, if spoken aloud, would likely only make others think she was such a small-bellied-chicken-guts³ woman.

As long as one is human, one cannot avoid caring about the opinions of others.

She looked at Shen Maomao’s eyes, which held no gloom, and suddenly felt envious.

No, it was not just envy, but also deep jealousy.

A person’s character is the best reflection of her upbringing. For her to have such clear eyes, she must have a happy family and many people who love her.

The very things she longed for, but could never have.

Lou Jingmo also sat up, tilting her head to look at her. She said unhurriedly, “Only trash complains about injustice. If you feel you’ve been treated unjustly, find a way to shatter that injustice. Since you have chosen to accept adversity obediently⁴, then don’t open your mouth to complain. All the roads are ones you have walked yourself.”

Potato Chip trembled all over, it was unclear if from anger or agitation. “What do you know? You aren’t me, how could you know my hardships?”

Lou Jingmo let out a huff of contempt from her nose, too lazy to continue the conversation with her.

Potato Chip’s body tensed for a moment, but ultimately, the air was let out in a single breath. Then, she lowered her head in humiliation and spoke no more.

Scattered leaves were swept up by the fierce wind, slapping against the windows and the door with a crackling sound. It was just like those nights of silent weeping. But perhaps because the person she hated had been killed by her own hand, or perhaps because she was no longer alone tonight, she only felt as if a pair of wings had sprouted from her back, ready to carry her to break her chains, to fly with her toward the infinitely vast sky, never to look back.

Shen Maomao pulled the quilt over herself, her gaze watching her dispassionately. She said, “Everyone has their own story. Your story is unrelated to us, and I don’t care what kind of person you are. This is a lawless place. As long as you have not threatened our safety, we will not do anything to you.”

Lou Jingmo lay on her side, watching her with an unreadable expression. She asked, “Do you think she is guilty?”

Shen Maomao’s intuition told her this question had a trap, so she gave a clever response: “From a legal perspective, she is guilty.”

Lou Jingmo laughed, her arm reaching out from under the quilt to pinch her cheek. “You certainly know how to be clever.”

Shen Maomao angrily slapped her hand away. Just as she was about to tell her to stop pinching her cheek, she heard a sudden muffled thud from the doorway——

“Splat—“

It was like the sound of a drop of water hitting the floor, and also like something had bumped into the door. The three people in the room looked up at the same time, only to see a bright red handprint blossoming on the door’s paper screen.

Su Han, who hadn’t even been woken by their conversation, scrambled up with a start, her face deathly pale as she said, “I think something has come over!”

“Splat—“

“Splat, splat—“

A second, then a third, bright red palm print slapped onto the windows and the door, the palm lines clearly visible. Each print splattered sticky streaks of blood around it.

The heavy darkness of night swept in, bringing with it a baring-fangs-and-brandishing-claws⁵ mist, which seeped in bit by bit through the cracks in the door and windows.

The rice-grain-sized⁶ flame on the oil lamp began to flicker, swaying unsteadily as if it would be extinguished the next second.

Potato Chip grew tense. “This is bad! One lamp isn’t enough, quick, light the other lamp too!”

Shen Maomao shot out from under the quilt, rushing directly toward the windowsill, and snatched the oil lamp placed upon it.

A sharp howl exploded by her ear, startling her so much that her whole body jolted. The black mist, like a boil on the bone⁷, spread swiftly up her arm, bringing with it an icy, bone-piercing sensation.

A pair of black-and-white eyes appeared before Shen Maomao, looking exactly like the ones on the white lantern she had seen that night. The dot-like pupils in these eyes darted left and right erratically. The sight made her scalp tingle with fear, yet she found that she could not move her head at all.

I can’t move!

Potato Chip was still urging her, “What are you doing? Hurry and bring it over! Don’t hesitate!”

At the same time, an immense force transmitted from her arm, desperately dragging her toward the door.

Lou Jingmo noticed something was wrong almost at the same moment Potato Chip shouted. She rushed over directly, grabbing Shen Maomao’s arm with her left hand to prevent her from being dragged out, while her right hand produced a fire starter and, using Shen Maomao’s hand, lit the oil lamp.

The black mist, as if burned by the light, scurried back out through the crack in the door with a “hiss.” The force gripping Shen Maomao released its hold at the same moment, and due to inertia, she fell directly into Lou Jingmo’s arms.

Su Han, a little more clear-headed, quickly and anxiously asked, “Are you alright? Hurry, come over here!”

Shen Maomao dared not delay any longer and, holding the lamp, rushed back to the bed with Lou Jingmo.

All four women were huddled on it. Potato Chip placed the two lamps in front of her, in the spot that originally belonged to Milk Tea, and said, “How much do you all understand about the instance’s plot?”

Su Han said, “Did that Old Master Shao use some kind of evil art to obtain his current family fortune? I heard that he ignored the objections of those around him, borrowed money from everywhere to buy this manor, and even personally supervised his servants as they dug eight wells in eight different directions within the estate…”

Potato Chip nodded. “I don’t have too much understanding of the plot either, I just know a little more than you all. Old Master Shao obtained a book. The book introduced a kind of wealth-gathering art, and stated that as long as one followed its instructions, one could have a fortune of ten thousand guan.”

Old Master Shao was terrified of poverty.

The wealthy can never know what poverty means; it brings people endless pain and torment.

When he picked up the book, he didn’t believe it, until he followed the book’s method to perform a small wealth-beckoning ritual, and it actually succeeded.

From that point on, he became unstoppable.

Starting with the smallest wealth-beckoning ritual, it was like gambling, leading you step by step toward the most distant abyss. Once the bow is drawn, there is absolutely no road to turn back.

He was blinded by money, driven forward by profit. From sacrificing items, to sacrificing plants, then to animal corpses… the better the things sacrificed, and the larger the formation was drawn, the higher the profits he obtained.

Until, in a state where his heart-mind was bewildered by a ghost⁸, he pushed two orphaned servant girls into a well. After that, he was completely out of control.

He didn’t understand business, had no foresight, was gluttonous and lecherous, and indulged in pleasure, yet his business snowballed, growing larger and larger. A life where money could come in just by lying down—who wouldn’t be tempted?

The deaths of the servant girls did not create much of a ripple; they even brought him one business deal after another. His appetite grew, his ambition swelled, and he began to become crazed.

“Actually, there were not only two concubines in the Shao Manor. A few of them, for some reason, failed to become ghosts after they died. Others became ghosts only to have all their value squeezed dry by the formation.” Potato Chip continued to speak, “The complete version of this formation is what you see now, eight directions, eight wells, covering almost the entire Shao Manor, with eight hate-filled women residing within the wells…”

“After several decades, this formation is finally complete. The eighth well must be filled by a player, and then the instance can continue. My method of escape is to release all the ghosts and use players to fill the eight wells. For you all, it might not be very applicable.”

As she was speaking, gusts of cold, sinister wind blew in from outside, swirling ceaselessly around the four people in the room, seemingly searching for an opportunity to extinguish the candles in one go. “You all, come closer… we’ll surround these two lamps…” she said cautiously, her breath held to its lightest, deeply afraid that she might accidentally blow out the lamps.

Lou Jingmo squinted her eyes and looked at her for two seconds, then patted Shen Maomao’s butt. “Go, do as she says.”

The four people sat in a circle, using their bodies to block the wind that blew in from all four directions.

Potato Chip continued to sigh with emotion, “Before becoming a Cleaner, I didn’t even know such a profession existed. Why did it find me? I’ve clearly only cleared five instances…”

The knocking on the door never stopped. The bloody prints on the windows and door had already connected into a single sheet; at a glance, one couldn’t even distinguish how many palm prints were on it, so they also didn’t know for sure how many people were outside the door.

“Wuwuwuwu…”

“Scraaaape, scraaaape—“

Sharp fingernails scraped on the door panel. The woman outside cried while grinding her nails, using the bloodstains as a canvas and her nails as a paintbrush, drawing messy and irregular marks.

She was clearly the most terrifying existence, and also the true culprit who brought about the current situation, yet she cried so miserably, as if her liver and intestines were breaking inch by inch⁹, making those who heard it unable to resist crying along with her.

Shen Maomao covered her own eyes, wiping away the tears that were endlessly streaming down, and cursed, “Damn, is this toxic¹⁰? I don’t want to cry at all!”

Except for Lou Jingmo, the other three women were all shedding tears, crying a mess of snot and tears.

Shen Maomao wiped her nose with a handkerchief, her train of thought starting to derail again. “You guys think that since the sister outside is crying so tragically, is her face also covered in snot?”

Lou Jingmo: “…”

Potato Chip: “…”

Su Han: “…”

An image simultaneously appeared in their minds——a female ghost with long, disheveled hair and eyes full of fresh blood, letting out mournful wails. As she cried, a line of glistening snot flowed from her nostrils, over her purplish lips and down her deathly pale cheeks…

The image was so horrifying that even the crying from outside seemed to stutter for a moment.

Lou Jingmo’s shoulders were shaking continuously. Finally, unable to hold on any longer, she burst out laughing.

Shen Maomao wiped her tears, a look of innocence on her face, completely unaware of the visual experience she had brought upon the others. “What are you laughing at? Isn’t it a normal physiological reaction to get a runny nose when you cry hard?”

Su Han’s mouth twitched. “Although… that is true, but…” But I feel like ghosts and stuff aren’t scary at all anymore?!!

This kind of thought is really too dangerous, I’m even afraid that the next time I see a ghost, I won’t remember to run!! This woman is toxic, isn’t she???!

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