After Wang Liang obtained the seal and listened to Chang Feng explain its use and effects, he shook his head.
It was a very weak supernatural item. Judging from what had happened earlier, it could only repel extremely weak fierce ghosts; against anything slightly stronger, it would have no effect at all.
Perhaps if it absorbed more flesh and blood—even sucked a person dry—the repelling effect would be greater?
If that was possible, then it might still be somewhat useful.
Otherwise, to him, this thing was not even as useful as the ghost bell. At least the ghost bell could sometimes produce miraculous results.
“It was ineffective because the supernatural power on this item is too weak. It can’t contend with stronger fierce ghosts, though it does still count as a supernatural item.”
After casually explaining, Wang Liang put the seal away.
No matter how weak it was, it was still a supernatural item. Naturally, he could not possibly leave it in the hands of these three messengers and give them a chance to cause trouble.
Time passed. Night approached; it was dusk.
From time to time, Wang Liang used the photograph as a medium to conduct supernatural surveillance over the entire village.
But what Wang Liang found strange was that even though the seventh day after death would begin after midnight tonight,
the people at the cemetery to the north still headed back one by one before night fully fell, including the couple from Old Li’s family.
These people had spent many days preparing for the seventh-day rites of Old Li’s daughter. Now the platform, wreaths, candles, and everything else had been arranged, but as the time drew near, each of them went home to sleep as usual.
“Do they not have the custom of keeping vigil here?” Wang Liang muttered in confusion.
Zhou Kun heard Wang Liang suddenly speak and looked over.
“What?”
“After tonight, it’ll be the seventh day after death, but the people at the cemetery still went back. All of them.”
“Maybe they’re just going back to eat, then heading over again afterward?”
“Doesn’t look like it. For the past two days, they’ve been eating from a communal pot at the cemetery, but now they’ve all returned, each to their own home, doors shut tight. Heh, not a single light is on. Looks like they’re preparing to go straight to sleep.”
“Guilty conscience,” Zhou Kun mocked.
“Rest for a bit. At ten tonight, we set out,” Wang Liang said.
“Fine.”
Seeing this, the three messengers crouched in the corner exchanged glances, then sent out Fang Rui, who looked the least threatening, to speak.
Fang Rui coughed and cut in:
“Ahem, then the three of us—”
“The three of you are coming too, of course.” Wang Liang looked coldly at the three messengers. “Or are you comfortable letting me deliver the letter for you? Not afraid I’ll just toss it away somewhere?”
Fang Rui forced a smile.
“Of course we’re comfortable, of course. But since you want us to follow, then we’ll follow.”
In truth, they were not comfortable at all. Speaking up at this moment was precisely because they wanted to go along and see whether this person in charge would actually deliver the letter. This concerned their lives, so this arrangement suited them perfectly.
After that, the group continued waiting in the room.
The hunchbacked old man also returned, a little earlier than yesterday.
He came to their room and took a look. Seeing three extra people, he was a little surprised, but he did not say anything about it.
He merely told them not to run around tonight, and that there was no need to go to the cemetery to give condolence money and eat at the banquet. There would be no banquet tonight; it would only begin at noon tomorrow. At that time, they should prepare the money. Only after receiving the money would the villagers allow them to attend the meal.
After Wang Liang brushed off the hunchbacked old man, he continued waiting in the room for the final moment to arrive.
At ten o’clock that night, the five of them quietly slipped out the door.
[Arrival time: 1 hour and 58 minutes later.]
The arrival time happened to be midnight tonight, which was also the time of Li Lengmei’s seventh-day rites.
It was precisely because of this that Wang Liang felt it was no coincidence. The Film Ghost had to be connected to that Li Lengmei. The arrival of the messengers made him even more certain of this.
After Wang Liang and the others arrived near the cemetery, by the moonlight they could see grave mounds and tombstones standing one after another in the dark night, like pitch-black human silhouettes silently watching them from the darkness.
In front of the cemetery, a wooden platform had already been completed, with wreaths on both sides.
In front of the wooden platform were more than twenty tables and chairs, meant for the banquet at noon tomorrow, but right now there was not a single person there.
Behind the wooden platform, in front of the nearest new grave, the tombstone was engraved with Li Lengmei’s name. Before it were two candles that had already burned out and a basin containing some paper ashes.
Wang Liang and the others gathered around this grave mound.
“There’s still more than an hour left. Are we just going to wait here the whole time?” Fang Rui asked in a low voice.
Wang Liang did not reply. His eyes flickered as he looked at the new tombstone before him, no one knew what he was thinking.
He stared at the three characters “Li Lengmei” carved on the new tombstone, and at the photograph embedded in the surface of the stone—a photograph of Li Lengmei.
She was a girl of about seventeen or eighteen, pretty in appearance, but expressionless in the photo.
Wang Liang met the gaze of the woman in the photograph. After a moment of silence, he said:
“No. Dig up the grave.”
“What!”
Everyone looked at Wang Liang in shock. At the same time, they roughly understood why he had come here after ten o’clock, even though the delivery time was midnight.
“Dig up the grave. There are too many rotten things going on in this village. I need to confirm that the one buried inside is really Li Lengmei!” Wang Liang said coldly.
“This… isn’t that being too cautious? Is it necessary?” Fang Rui said in a low voice.
“Shut up.” Zhou Kun glared at Fang Rui. “Just do as you’re told. When it comes to matters involving fierce ghosts, being careful is never wrong.”
After saying that, Zhou Kun went to the front of the platform and fetched a wooden chair. He smashed it apart on the ground and handed the wooden sticks that served as chair legs to the three messengers.
“Dig. Quickly.”
“Okay, okay,” Fang Rui said with a bitter expression, taking a wooden stick and starting to dig up the grave.
Chang Feng and Lü Huizhen remained silent, but after taking wooden sticks as well, they too began digging.
Using wooden sticks to dig up a grave was difficult. The three of them alternated between using the sticks and clawing with their hands. After half an hour, they had dug several meters down and finally reached the coffin.
After laboriously prying out the nails, the three of them worked together to lift off the coffin lid.
But inside the coffin, what entered their sight was only a dirty dress.
“What! This is a cenotaph!” Fang Rui cried out in shock.
Chang Feng and Lü Huizhen beside him also showed startled expressions, their faces no longer calm.
Li Lengmei’s corpse was not here. Then if they had not been obstructed and had come here normally to deliver the letter,
only to deliver it to an empty cenotaph, would the delivery count as a success or a failure?
“This…” Zhou Kun’s eyes widened, then he looked at Wang Liang.
“So it really is like this. This village may be small, but it sure has plenty of messed-up business. Always pulling these flashy tricks. Let’s go.”
Wang Liang gave a cold snort, turned, and left.
“Where are we going?”
“To find that hunchbacked old man. We already know enough. We’ll lay our cards on the table and break through his psychological defenses directly.”
Wang Liang’s group ran back to the hunchbacked old man’s house and barged straight into the bedroom where he was sleeping.
Zhou Kun stepped forward and yanked the dazed hunchbacked old man up from the bed.
“Eh, what is this, what are you doing?” The hunchbacked old man woke with a start and looked at the people gathered around his bed.
“Young people, don’t, don’t be rash. At worst, I won’t charge you rent.”
“Where is Li Lengmei buried?” Zhou Kun shouted.
The hunchbacked old man’s face stiffened. His lips trembled a few times.
“Isn’t she… at the cemetery?”
“Old man, tell the damn truth already, or I’ll shoot—uh, I’ll strangle you with my own two hands.”
Fang Rui was also anxious now. If the time came and they could not find the delivery target, then the delivery would fail. The fierce ghosts of the post office would very quickly come for them.
Against an attack from fierce ghosts, the two big brothers might not be afraid, and Huizhen could withstand one for a while too.
Old Feng also had an item that could resist fierce ghosts—oh, not anymore.
As for him, he was just an ordinary person. Even his gun had been confiscated.