Chapter Eighty-One: The Headless Corpse

Cui Yue had not anticipated the power of that talisman to be so tremendous. If he had known it was so formidable, he would have struck with his palm from the start and finished it off early. What Cui Yue didn’t know was that, earlier, the blood corpse’s head and body had not been separated—they were still one entity, with ghostly energy circulating throughout its entire form and its flesh thick and resilient. Even if such an explosive talisman had been used before, at most it would have torn the skin a little, but it could never have inflicted a fatal wound.

Not far away, in a small convenience store, Old Yu was wearing his reading glasses, tidying up the goods on the counter. He happened to glance up and saw, at the distant corridor, two figures locked in combat, darting back and forth.

“Whose unruly brats are fighting now? Why don’t young people learn anything good these days?” Old Yu muttered, curious to see whose children were so disappointing. He craned his neck for a better look. But that glance nearly scared him out of his wits.

One of the figures had no head—its neck was empty, yet it was still leaping about energetically.

“Good heavens! What on earth is that?!”

Startled, Old Yu nearly spat out his dentures. He hastily wiped his glasses and peered again, carefully confirming that one of those fighting truly had no head at all—its entire body a bloody, mangled mess, too horrific to look at.

In all his years, Old Yu had never seen anything so bizarre. His hands shaking, he reached for the phone by the table and dialed a few numbers.

Ring... ring... ring...

“Hello, is this... is this the police station?”

“Yes, sir. What’s the matter?” Old Yu peered outside once more, then hurriedly spoke.

“Comrade, I want to report a crime. This is at the entrance to Victory Alley—there are two people fighting in the corridor, and one of them has no head!”

“Alright, the entrance to Victory Alley, right? There’s a fight... Okay, wait, what did you say? Did you say... one of them has no head?” The person on the other end fell silent for a long while before answering.

“Sir, are you joking? Filing false reports is against the law. Considering this is your first time, we won’t pursue it, but you really shouldn’t—”

Old Yu slammed his palm on the table and snapped, “Comrade, why won’t you believe me? Just send someone over right away. Come and see for yourself!” With that, he hung up.

After all, he’d been a Party member before retiring—how could he make things up?

Old Yu was getting on in years. Seeing no one else around, with not a soul to bolster his courage, he could only clutch the doorway with his head craned out, not daring to venture forward.

Meanwhile, the blood corpse’s head had been severed by a sword; its flesh was torn, the ghostly energy could no longer protect it, and with the explosive talisman, the killing blow succeeded.

Now, the headless corpse staggered about like a headless fly, careening in all directions. Had Cui Yue not dodged quickly, he would have been struck head-on.

After some thought, Cui Yue decided to keep calm. He gently lifted Yang Liu and placed her in a sheltered corner by the wall, ensuring her safety so he could fight without restraint, unafraid of harming her by mistake.

The headless corpse’s skin was dark purple, black fluid oozing from the wound, its flesh drying out. It waved its two large hands in the air, grasping wildly but unable to catch so much as a corner of Cui Yue’s clothing, growing ever more frantic.

Cui Yue held his breath, grasping the peach wood sword tightly, his eyes fixed intently on the corpse’s movements.

Seizing an opening, Cui Yue rolled forward and leapt past the flailing arms, slipping to its back and stabbing fiercely with both hands.

The corpse trembled violently, spinning in pain, its hands twisting behind in an attempt to snap Cui Yue’s neck.

He dodged back, but his footing slipped and he fell hard onto his back.

Sensing movement, the corpse raised its massive foot and stomped down viciously.

Cui Yue’s heart pounded—he saw the black leather shoe split open, the mutated foot thick and terrifying. If he was stomped, spitting blood would be the least of his worries.

With no time to dodge, he quickly pointed his sword upward. The heavy foot came down, and the tip of the sword pierced straight through the sole.

The corpse jerked back as if shocked by lightning and then fled, barreling ahead so violently it even shattered a corner of the stone platform by the corridor.

It careened across the road, vaulted over the river embankment, and tumbled out of sight.

Cui Yue scrambled to his feet and chased after it. He reached the embankment, peered down, and saw only the thick darkness and the surging Wei River, its yellow waves churning. There was no trace of the headless corpse.

Gone?

That was his first thought.

Though the process had been perilous, Cui Yue was surprised and emboldened to realize he had subdued the blood corpse by himself.

Wait—no! He suddenly remembered that Yang Liu was still unconscious in the corner, and who knew if other ghosts were lurking nearby. What if this had all been a trick to lure him away? That would be disastrous.

With anxiety surging, Cui Yue dashed back.

Thank goodness, thank goodness. That was terrifying.

Panting, he glanced over and saw Yang Liu’s blue dress still leaning safely against the wall. Only then did he feel relief.

Several minutes passed before Yang Liu finally opened her eyes. Seeing a figure before her, she clapped her hands to her face in fear.

“Help! Ghost!”

Cui Yue hurried over and covered her mouth. “Hey, hey—it’s me! Don’t scream!”

Hearing Cui Yue’s voice, Yang Liu peeked through her fingers and, seeing it was truly him, finally calmed down.

With a sob, she threw herself into his arms, clutching him tightly. The scene she had witnessed had been too horrifying; she was still trembling with fright, quietly weeping.

Huh?

Before Cui Yue could react, he was already enveloped in the scent of a young woman.

Uh...

He felt warmth in his arms, his chest pressed by something soft, and a faint fragrance drifting to his nose—his heart beating rapidly, mouth dry.

So this girl really is... impressively endowed!

He tilted his head back, nearly getting a nosebleed.

Cui Yue gingerly placed his hands on Yang Liu’s shoulders, full of affection, just about to take the next step.

Suddenly, a flashlight beam shone right in his face.

A voice followed.

“Officer, that’s him—he’s the one who was fighting just now!”

Old Yu, adjusting his glasses, peered carefully and pointed at Cui Yue with certainty.

“Fighting? Me?” Cui Yue’s mind was a mess. What in the world was he talking about?

Noticing others approaching, Yang Liu slipped out of Cui Yue’s embrace, her pretty face flushed bright red, not daring to meet anyone’s gaze.