Chapter 105: Stirring Up Trouble

After hearing my old flame explain the lore behind "Tiao Yang," my heart sank. According to her, Tiao Yang is a long-lost, highly technical craft, and an incredibly difficult one to execute. If done poorly, there was a high probability that it would bring fatal consequences upon the rest of us.

Sure enough, just as Hou Qiankun was about to use the "Er Ren Duo" to perform the Tiao Yang, Wanhualong grabbed his hand. "Second Brother, it’s not worth risking so much for these two nails in the Nuo mask’s eyes. Even if these nails were bronze artifacts from the 'Three Dynasties' (Xia, Shang, and Zhou), it wouldn't be worth the risk to perform Tiao Yang just to retrieve them."

I nodded in agreement. Wanhualong’s words were sound advice. In today's antique market, a bronze tripod from the Three Dynasties with fine craftsmanship—around twenty centimeters tall, from a good provenance or a well-known site—would fetch at most three or four million, provided it had a clear history. Even if these nails were rare bronze pieces from that era, or plucked from the eyes of some ancient monster, how much could they possibly be worth? A million at most—hardly worth risking one’s life over a Tiao Yang ritual.

But this sage advice left Hou Qiankun unmoved. Usually gentle and kind-hearted like a benevolent elder, he underwent a sudden personality shift. His face dropped, and he let out a cold laugh. "What? Are you trying to stop me when I want to show off my old spirit?" With a violent shove, he pushed Wanhualong away, nearly sending the man sprawling. Hou Qiankun then shook the Er Ren Duo in his hand and tightened his arm muscles, causing a sharp *crack* as his arm visibly thickened. It wasn't as dramatic a transformation as Ghost-Face Zhang’s, but the change was unmistakable.

I sighed at Hou Qiankun’s bizarre behavior. A month ago at the Hongbin Restaurant, when my master held the banquet to recruit talent, Hou Qiankun and Tong Tianguan were such upright, seasoned men. How had everything changed since we entered this tomb? Was there some invisible, malevolent force in this place controlling our minds? Or had they been hiding their true selves so deeply that their nature was now leaking out? In this world, the most terrifying things are truly not ghosts or spirits—they are people, especially those closest to us.

Hou Qiankun picked up Iron Crutch Liu’s Er Ren Duo and flicked it, producing a rhythmic *clack-clack* of bone joints. He seemed to be loosening his joints to ensure agility for the Tiao Yang. After a long moment, he approached the Nuo corpse and stood still, studying it intently. Everyone standing nearby held their breath, staring fixedly at Hou Qiankun as he prepared to demonstrate his unique skill. With a muffled grunt, he swung the Er Ren Duo, striking the tip against the "Fengchi" acupoint on the upper neck of the Nuo corpse. The corpse had oxidized over the years, drying out into something like an iron-clad monster. If Ghost-Face Zhang hadn't used his precious blade earlier, this creature wouldn't have been so easily sliced in two.

As the tip of the Er Ren Duo touched the Fengchi point, a bone-chilling sound erupted. The Nuo corpse let out a rasping "creak," like someone gasping for air while choking, or a drowning person surfacing for a split second before being pushed back under. The sudden noise was suffocatingly eerie.

Though the sound was terrifying, it was clearly within Hou Qiankun's expectations. Relying on the slight friction between the weapon and the corpse, he gave a sharp, rapid flick of his wrist, hoisting the Nuo corpse into the air. The speed was so great I barely caught the motion. Like a circus acrobat balancing a pole, Hou Qiankun had the corpse perfectly poised on the tip of the Er Ren Duo.

"Watch out!" Hou Qiankun whispered. We all instinctively took a step back. He nodded to himself, shifted his left hand next to his right in a motion like operating a millstone, and dropped into a horse stance. He began to strain, letting out a series of guttural grunts: "Hnn... hnn..."

I was watching with rapt attention when Mengya, standing beside me, let out a mocking sound. "Pfft."

I looked at her, confused. "What is it?"

"Why does old man Hou look like he’s suffering from chronic constipation? All that grunting—at his age, he’s going to give himself a brain hemorrhage." She couldn't help but giggle.

I felt a wave of embarrassment. It was true—the old man was risking his life for two nails in a corpse's eye socket. Was it even worth it? Even at a sky-high price, such tomb relics wouldn't fetch more than a few hundred thousand. I couldn't help but offer a wry smile.

*Gaga-gaga-gaga!*

While I was lost in thought, a sound like cackling laughter sent a chill through me. My heart squeezed tight. I stared ahead: the mouth of the Nuo mask on the corpse had opened, and it was cackling, yet no "evil vapors" emerged.

Hou Qiankun was clearly straining; sweat was pouring down his nose, and beads of it were visible behind his ears. He looked up, frowned, and sighed again before tossing the corpse into the air with a sudden jerk of his hands. The corpse flipped in the air; Hou Qiankun stepped forward, turned, and raised the weapon, catching the corpse perfectly on its crown.

As the tip touched the skull, I covered my ears, fearing another jarring noise. Surprisingly, there was no sound this time, only the creaking of rubbing bone. The corpse went still. I relaxed and lowered my hands.

Hou Qiankun eyed the corpse on the tip, nodded, and pushed the Er Ren Duo deeper, as if trying to drive it further in. As the tip sank another two centimeters into the skull, the Nuo corpse let out a desperate, earth-shaking roar: "Ah...!"

The sound was truly hellish, like Zhang Fei shouting at the Changban Bridge. It didn't scare anyone to death, but it nearly finished me off. The roar made me see stars, my head buzzed, and I almost fainted on the spot.

"Are you alright?"

As I stumbled, my old flame and Mengya caught me. A wave of warmth washed over me—it felt good to be cared for. But the two women exchanged a glance; Mengya snorted, and my old flame offered a cold smile. Thankfully, no argument broke out.

I steadied myself and looked at Hou Qiankun. The old man was truly vigorous; he seemed completely unaffected by the corpse’s "soul roar," standing firm in his horse stance and holding the weapon steady. As the roar faded like a dying battery until it was silent, Hou Qiankun let out a long sigh, relaxed, and lowered the corpse to the ground.

His display of the "Tiao Yang" craft had stunned everyone present. I looked at Mengya; she still wore an expression of lingering shock and awe. I turned to look at my old flame on the other side. She was frowning, as if she had noticed something wrong but wouldn't say. I leaned toward her and whispered, "What is it?"

She didn't speak, only shook her head and waved her hand, leaving me completely bewildered. I glanced at the others—the Dragon King, Wanhualong, Fatty Xu, and the rest were mostly like Mengya, still buzzing with excitement over the event. Only Ghost-Face Zhang remained expressionless, smoking his cigarette. His eyes flicked toward us for a moment before turning away—perhaps by accident, or perhaps on purpose.