The community dining hall at Zhumin had once been the liveliest place nearby.
But now, it lay abandoned.
Tables and chairs were scattered haphazardly, utensils thrown about in disarray. Water dripped continuously from the corners, nurturing patches of moss. Even during the day, the hall was filled with a heavy, unsettling atmosphere.
Wu Xian and Shi Ji stood at the entrance.
"Yesterday, I wanted to find some ingredients and cook a hot meal for everyone," Wu Xian explained. "While searching, I came here. Outside the dining hall, in the freezer, I found some frozen pig intestines and some utensils to cook with."
"Later, I decided to look for more ingredients and stepped inside."
"At first, everything seemed fine, but suddenly, I felt an overwhelming hunger—as if something was tempting me. I desperately needed to find something to eat."
"At that moment, I lost all reason and clutched the pig intestines…"
Wu Xian's expression twisted oddly. "If I remember correctly, the intestines you found weren't cleaned."
"Luckily, they weren't!" Shi Ji slapped his thigh excitedly.
"Because they were dirty, I couldn't bring myself to eat them—and that's when I finally snapped out of it."
"When I came to…"
"I saw a skinny, skin-and-bone man clinging to me, biting down hard. His eyes were a sickly green, and he kept moaning as he gnawed."
"'Hungry… I'm so hungry…'"
Shi Ji lifted his shirt to show Wu Xian the left side of his chest and abdomen, where dozens of teeth marks were clustered tightly. If he had stayed unconscious any longer, he might have been bitten open from gut to spine.
"I barely managed to escape. You can't imagine how terrified I was…"
Wu Xian suddenly recalled that Shi Ji seemed to be wearing different pants yesterday morning and evening…
Shaking off the unpleasant thought, Wu Xian peered into the dining hall.
He vaguely spotted two blurred statues on the far counter—proof Shi Ji hadn't lied.
As he looked away, Wu Xian caught sight of a gaunt face peeking from behind a pillar. Drool dripped constantly from its lips, and its gaze seemed intent on devouring him whole.
Wu Xian asked, "From what you said, this spirit is really tough to deal with. Once you go deep inside the dining hall, it can confuse you so badly you don't even notice being eaten alive. So how do you plan to worship the gods?"
Shi Ji lifted a bag. "With this, of course!"
He opened it to reveal a bunch of pig intestines reeking of a foul stench, half-cooked and tough-looking.
Wu Xian frowned in confusion. "You're going to strangle it with intestines?"
"No, I'm going to bait it with intestines."
"Bait it?"
Shi Ji sneered.
"I didn't survive yesterday by luck. I learned two useful things."
"First, its ability to confuse people only works inside the dining hall, in places where sunlight doesn't reach."
"Second… its teeth aren't very good."
"Teeth… I see now!"
Wu Xian thought for a moment and realized what kind of cunning mind would come up with such a plan.
Shi Ji's face twisted with pure hatred, as if the spirit had personally wronged him.
"Since it's a starving ghost, it can't refuse food. Pig intestines are toughest when half-cooked. I'll use them to lure it beyond its confusing range, and then…"
"I'll make it pay for what it did to me yesterday!"
From Wu Xian's observations, Shi Ji seemed honest and easygoing, not someone who got angry easily. What could have made him so furious that he wanted to tear that spirit apart?
The truth was probably far worse than he let on.
Perhaps when Shi Ji tried to eat the intestines, it wasn't that he couldn't bring himself to—it might have been something else entirely…
The plan to bait the spirit sounded absurd, but Wu Xian had no better idea.
After a brief discussion, the two set their plan in motion.
They threw the half-cooked pig intestines into the shadows. Wu Xian had assumed the spirit's intelligence was at least above a fish's and that it would wait a bit.
But before the intestines even hit the ground, a mouth snapped down.
Feeling the tug on the other end of the intestines, Wu Xian and Shi Ji quickly pulled together, yanking out a gaunt figure.
The creature that flew out was male.
He wore only ragged beach shorts. His body was so thin he looked more skeleton than flesh—skin stretched tight over yellowed, rough bones. His legs were splayed like a frog's, allowing him to move on all fours like an animal.
As soon as it was dragged into the open, black smoke began to seep from its body, accompanied by pitiful howls. It shrank backward, reluctant to let go of the pig intestines in its mouth, inching away slowly.
Seizing the opportunity, Wu Xian tugged on the intestines while Shi Ji grabbed a mop handle and swung it hard at the starving ghost.
Shi Ji's face twisted with rage, his teeth clenched so tightly they seemed ready to shatter. Every strike poured all his strength into the blow, but his frail body quickly betrayed him—after only a few swings, sweat was already beading on his forehead.
The starving ghost, unable to endure the blows, retreated into the shadows like a wounded puppy.
Wu Xian watched in silent disbelief. Shi Ji's attack was fierce as a tiger's roar, yet it only inflicted minor scratches on the spirit's head—barely causing any real harm despite all the effort.
Still, Wu Xian made a new observation.
First, the weapons distributed by Qi Zhiyong were indeed effective—but only marginally so.
They were like a couple playfully flicking each other with leather whips.
Did it hurt?
Sure, but it was hardly enough to cause real damage.
Earlier, when dealing with the Refrigerator Ghost King, after exposure to sunlight, black smoke appeared on the king's body. Wu Xian had guessed that sunlight harmed or even killed spirits.
But now, that theory seemed flawed.
This starving ghost had been exposed to sunlight for a while and showed no fundamental injury—just weakness, and less vigor than before.
Maybe sunlight was merely an uncomfortable environment for spirits. Maybe different spirits had different levels of sunlight tolerance. Maybe...
There were many possibilities.
But whatever the answer, holding the belief that sunlight guaranteed safety was a sure way to get burned.
The starving ghost retreated again.
Neither of them worried too much, though—the idea that a fish's memory lasted only seven seconds was false, but a creature driven purely by desire might have an even shorter memory span.
Shi Ji threw the intestines out once more. Soon enough, the spirit bit down again.
This time, Shi Ji held tight while Wu Xian wielded a bloodstained cleaver, slashing deep wounds into the ghost's body.
After several such exchanges, Wu Xian grew restless.
Shi Ji's plan was sound, but killing the spirit with ordinary weapons was painfully slow. If this dragged on, who knew how long it would take to finish off the ghost? For Shi Ji, it was worth it, but for Wu Xian, the cost was too high.
So Wu Xian drew his copper coin sword, ready to play his trump card.
But this time, the starving ghost refused to take the bait. The intestines swung endlessly inside the hall, but the spirit remained unmoved.
Wu Xian's anxiety spiked instantly.
If it didn't come out, how could they justify the time already wasted?