Chapter 28: The Ghostly Venom

The Ghost Gu, also known as the Spirit Worm, is an abomination created by those with sinister intentions. It assumes a unique form, distinct from ordinary ghosts, and is unafraid of talismans and other tools specifically designed to subdue spirits. The bronze mirror serves as its lair—the more ancient the mirror, the more powerful the Ghost Gu within. In this regard, the person who sought to deal with Song Nianqiang went to great lengths, not only procuring that antique bronze mirror but also cultivating this vicious Ghost Gu.

The art of Ghost Gu had been lost for countless years, so much so that even Song Nianqiang’s teacher had only heard of it in passing and never in detail, further attesting to its mystery. Of course, the Ghost Gu has its nemeses as well: white light or strong, cold illumination. Sunlight is not counted, for any spirit would be obliterated under the noonday sun. Here, it refers to cold, artificial light—like the flash of a camera—which the Ghost Gu particularly fears.

“Damn it! It’s a Ghost Gu! The very thing the old man spoke of!” By now, Song Nianqiang had realized the creature’s identity, but the knowledge only increased his distress. If even his teacher was powerless against such a thing, how could he possibly contend with it? Yet, he could hardly wait here to die; when resistance is due, resistance must be made.

He sprang forward, landing before the Spirit Worm and seized its long hair. Pain shot through his hand as if bitten by something, forcing him to let go. At that moment, the Ghost Gu attacked in deadly earnest, its long nails slashing toward his throat.

The claws were about to pierce him when, suddenly, the spirit recoiled. It was the fat man—seeing Song Nianqiang in peril, he rushed forward, grabbed the Ghost Gu, and hurled it backward.

Sweat drenched Song Nianqiang; his life had nearly ended just then. Snatching up a large chair from the floor, he strode quickly to the Ghost Gu’s side and swung it down upon the spirit’s head. The chair shattered into splinters, but the Ghost Gu was utterly unscathed.

Song Nianqiang had expected as much and remained calm, retreating in a flash. The Ghost Gu, now aware, floated toward him, claws extended with blinding speed. Fortunately, Song Nianqiang had practiced parkour. With a forceful kick, he vaulted over the spirit, but upon landing, his foot came down on a broken piece of wood, twisting his ankle badly.

A searing pain shot from his ankle to his brain; he nearly wept. But compared to his life, such pain was nothing—he forced it from his mind.

The Ghost Gu, having learned from before, advanced slowly this time. Helpless, Song Nianqiang dragged his injured leg, retreating step by step. Each pace wrung a grimace from him, and soon, sweat was dripping from his brow in heavy beads.

“Kangzi, duck!” The fat man’s voice finally rang out. Song Nianqiang obeyed instinctively, and a rush of wind passed over his head. With a tremendous crash, the fat man had ripped the security door from its hinges and now pressed it against the Ghost Gu, attempting to shove it out the window.

“Don’t let your anger drown in thirty-six-point-five-degree urine—push harder!” Song Nianqiang shouted, lending his friend encouragement. It seemed to work; the fat man’s strength swelled, and soon the Ghost Gu was pinned at the window’s edge.

The glass cracked, then shattered, and the Ghost Gu was forced through the window by the fat man’s herculean push. Both men cheered, exhilarated.

Yet, the Ghost Gu was unharmed. It drifted back through the broken window, regarding the two humans with puzzlement. It seemed to think their intelligence questionable, as if their childhood brains had been addled by water, donkey kicks, or slammed doors.

Seeing the Ghost Gu unchanged, Song Nianqiang and the fat man’s laughter faded. He glanced at the clock: three-thirty. They only needed to survive until four-thirty or five, when the spirit would return to the bronze mirror. Then, Song Nianqiang could easily destroy it with any number of methods—but until then, he was helpless.

“Fatty, burn it!” Song Nianqiang whispered, limping away, for the Ghost Gu had eyes only for him. To the spirit, the fat man did not exist.

Song Nianqiang climbed onto the bed, pulled the blanket over himself, then rolled swiftly underneath. The Ghost Gu, surprised by his sudden disappearance, floated to the bedside. From beneath the bed, Song Nianqiang shot out his hand, grabbed the Ghost Gu’s ankle, and yanked it down.

With a dull thud, the spirit was pulled under. The fat man, holding a burning textbook, hurled it onto the Ghost Gu. Its thin clothes should have caught fire at once, but to their dismay, the flames did nothing—the spirit seemed immune, utterly impervious.

The Ghost Gu flipped the bed, lunging at Song Nianqiang, who dodged aside. Still, his impaired leg cost him—his clothes were torn, though his flesh remained unharmed.

The fat man grabbed two thermos bottles at random and smashed them over the Ghost Gu’s head. Scalding water gushed out, enveloping the spirit in a cloud of white steam. The hot water began to peel away its skin, releasing a stench that swiftly filled the rented room.

“God, the smell!” the fat man retched, unable to bear it. But Song Nianqiang noticed the Ghost Gu was momentarily stunned by the boiling water—an opportunity too rare to miss. He’d recovered a bit of his spiritual power and could barely manage a Heavenly Thunder Strike.

He quickly formed the necessary seals and shouted, “Heavenly Thunder Strike!”

A blue bolt, thick as an arm, crashed down upon the Ghost Gu. Black smoke billowed from the spirit, and its once-silky hair bristled into a tangled nest. Song Nianqiang’s spell had struck true, but both men remained tense—who knew if this would be enough?

A full minute passed before the Ghost Gu’s form emerged from the smoke. The room was now thick with black fumes. When Song Nianqiang glimpsed the creature, he recoiled. The fat man’s face twisted in disgust.

The Ghost Gu’s flesh now hung in ragged strips; in some places, white maggots writhed. An eyeball had dropped to the floor, and only its long claws remained whole.

Now, the spirit’s ferocity was fully revealed. It advanced step by step toward Song Nianqiang, leaving bits of rotten flesh behind with every footfall. He had no answer for it and could only retreat further.

The fat man tried to flee, but the Ghost Gu lashed out with an arm, sending him crashing to the floor, where he lay unmoving for several minutes, clearly hurt badly.

Song Nianqiang was forced back against the wall. The spirit closed in, step by step. Though the room was stiflingly hot, Song Nianqiang was drenched in sweat, yet felt no heat—only the chill of the spirit’s ghostly wind blowing over him.

(Two chapters today; I must stockpile more drafts for next week’s ranking push. Expect an explosion of updates on Monday and Tuesday…)