Chapter 110: The Yin-Gathering Pool

“Which brat is making noise?” Gao Changyi, lying on the ground, grumbled angrily as he woke up. Yet all around remained eerily silent.

Gao Changyi glanced at the group before him. Bail Ling was still deep in sleep inside his sleeping bag, and Fang You was dozing on a tree branch. Among the several local guides Gao had brought along, one was missing—the guide with the braided hair.

“That little bastard isn’t resting properly. Where could he have gone?” Gao Changyi stood up quietly, not wanting to disturb the others.

“The noise just came from this direction,” he muttered angrily, heading slowly toward where he had heard the shout. “What is that kid up to?”

After about six minutes, he suddenly heard soft rustling sounds. Approaching cautiously, he found the braided-hair guide digging a hole in the ground.

“Hey, what are you doing? What’s wrong with you digging in the middle of the night?” Gao Changyi scolded the young man.

The guide paused, a faint, eerie smile appearing at the corner of his mouth.

“Turn around and go back to sleep,” Gao Changyi said quietly.

“Almost done, almost done. Soon, we’ll all be buried together!” The guide slowly turned around, causing Gao Changyi to freeze in horror.

The young man’s face was deathly pale, blood oozing from his eyes, nose, and mouth. His ten fingers were nearly scraped off from digging into the hard earth.

In that instant, Gao Changyi understood: his comrade had encountered some malevolent spirit out here in the wilderness. Such things were common; anyone who spent enough time near rivers would eventually run into the supernatural.

Gao Changyi hurriedly pulled out a vial of black dog’s blood from behind him. “I’m sorry... I’ll make sure your family knows,” he whispered.

The braided-hair guide looked at him hesitantly, then suddenly lunged forward. “Let’s be buried together!”

In a flash, Gao Changyi threw the black dog’s blood at him—the essential talisman for warding off evil spirits.

As the blood touched the guide’s body, it seemed to corrode him, melting away as agonized howls echoed. Then, as if regaining clarity, the guide exclaimed, “Boss, run!”

The commotion naturally roused Fang You, Bail Ling, and the others. Soon, they all hurried to the scene, their faces pale at the ghastly sight.

“Looks like Dragon God Mountain isn’t exactly peaceful,” Bail Ling murmured.

“Boss, the braided one—he’s...” The others stared in disbelief at the decaying corpse, their companion who had just been with them.

“Lai Zit, Scarface, Er Gouleg, Xiao Douzi, listen carefully. None of you are to move alone from now on. Even going to the bathroom requires reporting to me,” Gao Changyi ordered the remaining four guides sternly.

Fang You studied the four men: one bore scaly patches on his head, another had a fierce scar across his face, one limped noticeably, and the youngest, Xiao Douzi, looked like a mere schoolboy—unfathomable that he worked such a dangerous job.

Before anyone could say more, sinister shadows emerged—one ghostly wraith after another, their malevolent forms slithering closer.

“This is bad,” Fang You murmured, eyes darting between the angry spirits and the geography around them.

From the moment they had entered, he’d noticed the encircling mountains forming a deep pit, perpetually shaded and sunless—a perfect gathering place for dark energy.

Such a “Yin Gathering Pool” concentrated heavy negative energy, drawing restless spirits like moths to flame. Once trapped here, these vengeful souls could not escape, their numbers growing ever more dense, yet unable to dissipate.

As they spoke, the ghostly figures closed in.

Fang You realized that at night, there was no way to dispel the pool’s power. They would have to wait until dawn, when his feng shui skills could alter the terrain’s energy and disperse the spirits. For now, standing ground was impossible.

“Run! There are too many vengeful spirits here. We can’t deal with them all at once, but they can’t leave this place. If we just get far enough away, we’ll be safe!” Fang You shouted.

The group scrambled to escape, the angry spirits pursuing relentlessly.

In desperation, Fang You pulled a wooden puppet from his bag and smeared it with his own blood, chanting:

“Dead wood was once living wood; touched by human blood, it takes shape. Human breath gathers in this wood; dead wood becomes living form!”

He threw the puppet behind them.

The living energy infused in the puppet attracted all the spirits’ attention. They swarmed it instantly, tearing it apart into splinters as if it were flesh.

While the puppet distracted the spirits, Fang You and the others fled.

After more than half an hour, they finally paused under the moon’s cold light.

“Braided one’s dead,” Lai Zit said sadly.

“We’ll take care of his family,” Scarface added solemnly.

The youngest, Er Gou and Xiao Douzi, looked frightened.

“This place isn’t safe. We should keep moving,” Gao Changyi urged.

But Fang You disagreed. “Traveling at night is even more dangerous. There’s an old saying: travel a thousand miles by day, but do not journey at night.”

“During the day, yang energy dominates, so moving forward is safe. But at night, yin energy rises and yang wanes. That’s when all manner of ghosts and demons come out. Traveling then only increases the risk of encountering them, dragging us down.”

Bail Ling, descendant of the Tomb Robbers, nodded in agreement. “Fang You’s right. It’s best not to move at night.”

“Afraid of what?” Gao Changyi scoffed. “Any demon or ghost, with me around, I’ll tear them apart!”