Chapter Eighty-One: Nine Dragons Subdue Evil

When Niu Dahuang said this, my thoughts drifted back to last night’s events.
Last night, I felt as if someone was watching me. When I turned around, I glimpsed a fleeting shadow. Soon after, Tong’er also heard an old woman calling her name, complaining about being pressed down and suffocated by a red quilt.
That memory brought to mind the coffin in the ancestral hall, so I asked Niu Dahuang whether the thing haunting us might be what’s sealed inside that coffin.
He agreed it was possible, and together we hurried to the ancestral hall. Yet, the coffin remained where it had always been, unchanged from before, its lid securely closed.
A faded red cloth, nearly white from age, was draped over the coffin. Several black chalk lines crisscrossed it—clearly, a means to seal whatever was within.
“These lines are a Maoshan spell for sealing coffins,” Niu Dahuang explained. “Powerful enough to trap vengeful spirits or the undead. See the black liquid dripping from beneath? That means there’s a ghost here, not a corpse demon. And if this spirit can roam in daylight, escaping the seal to devour souls, it must be something truly formidable. We mustn’t take this lightly.”
I crouched down to look and saw, indeed, black liquid oozing from beneath the coffin. I asked him why this meant a ghost and not a corpse demon.
He replied that the black water was corpse fluid, seeped from decaying flesh. Once a corpse becomes a zombie, it no longer decays, so only a ghost would produce such a sign.
I nodded.
Then, Niu Dahuang took a handful of grains from his pocket and scattered them in a circle around the coffin. We returned to the house.
The Ma family did not come to the Bai family’s old home all afternoon.
It was odd—one of their own elders, Ma Zhenhai, had lost his life, yet it seemed to stir no concern among them. Still, while Ma Zhenhai was dead, his body had vanished, which was also hard to fathom.
Come evening, Niu Dahuang and I set out once more.
Night made it easier to search for clues without drawing attention. When we reached the town, we saw many people pulling carts with small coffins on them, all destined for the Ma family.
We hid nearby and could hear, even from a distance, crying and struggling from within the coffins. The adults, pushing the carts, wiped their tears, and the sight was heart-wrenching.
In this town, aside from Tong’er, there were more than a hundred children who had been tricked into becoming spirit mediums. No one dared speak out or resist; they could only watch as the Ma family preyed upon their children.
Gazing at the coffins, I said, “These children are innocent. We can’t let them die like this.”
When the River God takes his bride, these children will be sacrificed—thrown into the depths of the White River. Even if there are no spirits lurking below, the river is deep, and none would survive.
Niu Dahuang sighed. “Who could bear to see these children die? But the two of us alone—saving one or two, perhaps, but over a hundred? It’s impossible.”
“And besides, how many families here are like Bai Akun’s, able to tell right from wrong? Even if we tried to help, most would not trust us, and would fear the Ma family’s retribution more than anything. So if we truly wish to save these children, there’s only one way: we must utterly destroy the Ma family of Baiqiao Town.”
He was right. The Ma family’s crimes went deep. To uproot them would not only save the children, but also deliver the entire town from misery.

However, the Ma family’s hold on Baiqiao Town was absolute. The fate of every soul here lay in their hands. This was not a battle to be rushed; we’d need careful planning.
We discussed it.
Tomorrow night, when the River God comes for his bride, would be our best chance to act.
After this, Niu Dahuang asked me suddenly, “Yi Wa, we’ve only heard of these spirit mediums, but never the bride the River God is supposed to marry. No family in town has sent their daughter to the Ma family for this. Who do you think the River God is marrying?”
I shook my head; I had no answer. I asked if he had any ideas, but he only gazed at the river beneath the White Bridge in silence.
Night had fallen. The lanterns on both banks reflected on the water, swaying. Above, the river was clear; below, it was murky—a beautiful scene, yet the ghostly cries from both banks could not be stilled.
“By the way, didn’t Bai Akun say that the nine stone bridges were built by his ancestors to create a formation known as the Nine Dragons Suppressing Evil Array? Do you think the entity being suppressed is the very River God to be wed?”
The thought occurred to me suddenly, and I voiced it.
My words brought Niu Dahuang back to the present. “You’re right, it’s possible. After Ma Zhenxing’s corpse was sunk in the river, he must have made some pact with what lies beneath. That’s how he returned to life and began preparing the wedding for the creature below.”
“And this marriage, with the hundred spirit mediums, might be the key to breaking the Nine Dragons Array. The Ma family is helping the River God shatter the suppression and regain his freedom.”
The name alone—Nine Dragons Suppressing Evil Array—sounded extraordinary. I asked Niu Dahuang what such a formation was meant to contain.
He replied that it varied, but the array itself was a powerful Daoist formation, used only for things that could not be destroyed by ordinary means. If it were a lesser evil, it would have been exterminated rather than sealed away, so whatever is trapped here must be exceptionally difficult to kill.
After discussing the array, we went to investigate near the Ma household. Their security was tighter than ever, suggesting they were being especially cautious with the River God’s wedding imminent.
Just as we were about to leave, Niu Dahuang stopped and whispered, “Look—it’s Ma Zhenhai!”
I turned and saw him—the very Ma Zhenhai I had killed, standing at the Ma family’s gate, giving orders to the guards as though nothing was amiss.
“What’s going on?” I whispered.
“I don’t know,” Niu Dahuang replied. “The dead can’t return to life. You struck him down, blood pouring from all his orifices—his vital points were utterly destroyed. Even if the soul returned, there’s no way the body could live again, let alone walk the earth.”
It had sounded unbelievable when Bai Akun said Ma Zhenxing had risen after being sunk in the river. Now, seeing Ma Zhenhai alive after such a death, I could no longer doubt it.
Niu Dahuang speculated that his resurrection must be tied to the River God beneath the White River.
Having found no more clues, we returned to the Bai family’s old house. The Ma family still sent no one after us, perhaps wary of further incidents during the River God’s wedding.
By the time we got back, it was already midnight.

Lying down, I found my thoughts troubled by worry for Madam Wang, who was still at the Ma family’s home, and for the poor children of Baiqiao Town. The more I thought, the less I could sleep.
Just then, I felt that familiar sensation again—someone watching me.
This time, I turned my head quietly, casting a sidelong glance, and saw an old woman, hair wild and filthy, standing outside the window. Her sudden appearance was enough to send chills through me.
I nudged Niu Dahuang quietly. He motioned for silence, signaling me not to move—he must have noticed as well.
I watched as he stealthily drew a yellow talisman, fingers forming a secret gesture.
Just then, the latch on the door clicked open by itself. With a creak, the door swung wide on a gust of icy wind, and the temperature in the room dropped sharply.
A swirl of cold mist filled the entrance, and through it, the old woman glided soundlessly, feet not touching the ground, moving slowly toward our bed.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her face: ashen, deeply lined like scars carved by a knife, her eyes all whites with no pupils, mouth opening to reveal rows of needle-like teeth—grotesque and terrifying.
She bent lower, drawing close to Niu Dahuang’s face, intent on draining his life force and soul. I was about to intervene when, in a sudden move, Niu Dahuang flipped over and slapped the talisman onto her forehead.
The old woman let out a shriek as blue smoke poured from her head.
Yet, she only staggered back a few steps, then tore off the talisman and lunged at Niu Dahuang again. He rolled off the bed, slipping beneath it.
I jumped down as well, shutting the door and blocking the exit.
Now that the creature had revealed itself, we could not let it escape.
Niu Dahuang drew another talisman, chanting under his breath. The old woman lunged, but he dodged aside and pressed the talisman to her back.
But with a sudden leap, she shot up to the rafters, wrapping herself around a beam. Near the roof, there was a carved vent in the wall—small, but the old woman slipped through it and vanished outside.
I rushed out in pursuit, but by the time I reached the yard, there was no sign of her.
I suspected she must be the malicious spirit sealed in the ancestral hall’s coffin, so Niu Dahuang and I went straight there.