My father wasn't alone when he appeared at the gate—he had a massive black dog on a leash.
At the exact moment he showed up, the corpse ghost that used to be Ma Lao San's wife was heading right toward him. The instant my father caught sight of her grotesque, twisted face, his legs gave out. He stood frozen, trembling violently, unable to move.
"Get out of the way!" Grandpa shouted, seeing his son standing there like a fool.
But my dad's legs were like jelly. He wanted to run, but his body refused to cooperate.
In that critical moment, the black dog he held suddenly let out a thunderous bark. Without hesitation, it lunged toward the corpse ghost, leaping over two meters high and landing squarely on her—but it wasn't enough to knock her down.
Taking advantage of the distraction, the weasels and foxes swarmed in again, biting and clawing. But the corpse ghost's skin was as hard as bronze, their fangs and claws couldn't pierce her. They clung to her like ornaments more than attackers.
Only the largest of the weasels managed to make an impact. It clamped onto the ghost's legs and violently yanked, toppling her to the ground.
"Get inside! All of you!" Old Lady Liu shouted, raising her iron smoking pipe high and smashing it onto the corpse ghost's skull. The ghost let out a blood-curdling shriek.
That was when my father finally snapped out of it. He turned around and bolted into the house.
Grandpa followed quickly and rushed into the bedroom.
By then, my mother and I were already awake from the chaos outside. She held me tightly, trembling with fear at the horrifying chorus of wails and howls.
At that age, I didn't understand anything. I could only listen: the yelping of foxes and weasels, the ghost's demonic roars, a rooster's crow and a dog's bark—all tangled in a maddening cacophony.
When Grandpa came in wielding a battered broadsword, Mom let out a startled cry.
"Xiao Juan, don't be afraid. Hurry, dress the baby in the burial clothes—just like Granny Huang instructed," Grandpa urged.
Mom was so frightened she had forgotten all about the burial clothes. She scrambled to dress me.
Everything was falling apart.
My dad had come back at the wrong moment.
Old Lady Liu had told him to bring three roosters. The plan was to scare the corpse ghost off with their crowing.
Roosters only crow before dawn. Creatures like corpse ghosts—evil beings—are terrified of light. When the sun rises, they must hide in darkness. A single ray of sunlight, and they'll melt into a puddle of blood and pus.
The moment the ghost heard the rooster's cry, it panicked, thinking dawn was near, and turned to flee.
That's exactly what Liu had planned. The ghost was more powerful than expected, so she had Grandpa release the roosters.
What she didn't expect was my father—he heard the commotion and came straight to the gate with the black dog, blocking the ghost's escape route.
The black dog was meant to be a gatekeeper. Black dogs carry strong yang energy. One without a single stray hair is especially potent. Even if it can't kill a ghost, it won't back down.
Old Lady Liu had prepared for both outcomes—if the ghost was too strong, scare it off with the roosters. If they could hold it, the black dog would block its escape.
But no one had told my father when exactly to unleash the dog.
So here we were, in chaos.
Just as Mom finished dressing me in the burial clothes, a muffled groan came from the courtyard—it sounded like Liu.
Grandpa tensed. He grabbed his sword and turned toward the door. But before he could move, a massive shadow loomed outside the window.
CRACK!
Two long, clawed hands smashed through the wooden window. Then a twisted, snarling face followed—the corpse ghost had returned.
With a single leap, she entered the room.
Mom, already faint-hearted, nearly passed out at the sight of the ghost's fanged mouth. Her scream echoed through the house.
Grandpa, though terrified, swung his blade.
But the ghost was ready. She caught the blade mid-air and kicked Grandpa across the room. He hit the ground with a dull thud and couldn't get up.
"Wu Jie… Wu Jie… I've come for you…" the ghost giggled. Her nostrils flared, but then her expression shifted—confusion clouded her face.
She couldn't find me.
Corpse ghosts are blind, but they can sense the living's life force—especially mine.
That was why Old Lady Liu had me wear the burial clothes—they masked my life energy.
Before I wore them, the ghost could track me. Now, she was lost.
"Sister-in-law… please… he's my only son…" my mom sobbed, holding me tightly, shielding me with her own body.
The ghost sniffed again and again, but couldn't detect my energy. Furious, she turned to glare at my mother, her dead eyes glowing.
"Wu Jie… come out… If you don't, I'll kill your mother."
With that, she lunged, claws stretching toward my mother's throat.
I was only three, far too young to understand fear.
But then, something strange happened.
Under the dim lamplight, a giant shadow appeared behind me—it was a fox spirit with eight tails.
My mind went blank. A deafening buzz filled my skull.
"LEAVE!"The voice burst from my mouth like thunder—it wasn't mine, but a woman's.
At the same time, a beam of golden light shot from my body and slammed into the ghost's face.
She let out a shriek of agony and was flung back out the window.
Right after that, my eyes rolled back, my body stiffened, and I collapsed into my mother's arms, unconscious.
She was stunned, having no idea what had just happened.