Rooftop, No Choice but to Fight

The moment Uncle Yu finished speaking, the two of us started running for the rooftop.

The Old Crone chased us to the doorway, going "woo woo woo," then stopped.

Before heading upstairs, I glanced back down.

The Haunted House Crone was glaring at me viciously.

She stood motionless at the entrance. It looked like she couldn't come out...

When we reached the rooftop, I scanned the area under the bright moonlight.

The residents had turned the rooftop into a vegetable garden, planting some greens and setting up bamboo poles as trellises.

There was also a canopy nearby, with cardboard, plastic bottles, and other miscellaneous junk piled beneath it.

But aside from that, there was nothing around.

There wasn't even a place to hide.

Uncle Yu and I had nowhere left to run.

Yet waves of foul stench kept pouring out from the rooftop entrance, along with black mist visible to the naked eye.

Zhang Qiang, that Drowned Ghost, was about to come up.

"Uncle Yu, there's no way out. I'll fight that thing. Find a chance to run."

I spoke fiercely.

Since I couldn't escape, I didn't want to drag Uncle Yu down with me.

But Uncle Yu frowned.

"We can't fail at the final step.

Dawn is almost here.

Let's start a fire and see if we can hold him off a little longer."

With that, Uncle Yu ran straight toward the canopy where the junk was stored.

There was cardboard and plastic bottles there, all piled together.

Uncle Yu took out a lighter and clicked it several times as he lit the waste paper.

I helped from the side as well, breaking apart the bamboo trellises to use as fuel.

Before long, we had a fire going.

The flames crackled. Uncle Yu and I each held a burning plastic bottle.

A heap of fire burned before us, casting a red glow over our bodies.

Meanwhile, the stench grew stronger and stronger.

At the same time, Uncle Yu said,

"Once the fifth watch passes, we'll be safe.

That thing is a Drowned Ghost.

Water and fire are incompatible.

This fire can't go out. It's our last line of defense."

Uncle Yu reminded me.

I nodded and added several more bamboo sticks to the fire.

Just then, a gust of sinister wind swept over us.

The rancid fishy stench was enough to make someone vomit.

Then the two of us saw a soaking-wet figure emerge from the rooftop entrance.

It was none other than Zhang Qiang, the Drowned Ghost haunting me.

The moment he stepped onto the rooftop, he stopped.

He stared straight at us by the fire.

His face had returned to its swollen state.

His lifeless, dull eyes stared at me.

He looked exactly as he had when I first saw him that night.

Uncle Yu and I were both tense, but neither of us spoke or moved.

After several seconds, Zhang Qiang looked at me blankly and said in a faint voice,

"Jiang Ning, it's time to go. The teacher is urging us again."

There was no emotion in his voice, but it made my skin crawl.

"I'm a living man. Who the hell's going with you? Fuck off."

I cursed viciously.

If I went with him, I would definitely die.

When Zhang Qiang saw that I hadn't moved, he began walking toward us step by step.

He walked on tiptoe in a strange posture.

Everywhere he stepped, he left a trail of water.

Finally, he stopped about two meters in front of us.

The firelight reflected off Zhang Qiang's face, making him look eerie. He didn't even cast a shadow.

As he stared at the flames, his body seemed to be melting, water continuously dripping from him.

Before long, there was a puddle on the ground.

He stood there blankly, then suddenly took a deep breath through the flames, just like a living person.

A wave of icy cold swept over me. It felt as though my internal organs were about to be sucked out.

Uncle Yu gripped the Dragon-Head Cleaver and stepped in front of me.

Then Zhang Qiang took another deep breath.

Even the flames drifted toward him with a series of puffs. As he inhaled, his stomach and cheeks suddenly swelled, becoming enormous like a bullfrog's.

The instant I saw that, I guessed what he was trying to do.

He wanted to blow out the fire in front of us.

I hurriedly said,

"Uncle Yu, this bastard wants to blow out the fire!"

Seeing this, Uncle Yu hurled the burning plastic bottle in his hand straight at him.

But just as the flames were about to touch Zhang Qiang, he suddenly opened his mouth.

His mouth opened absurdly wide.

It looked big enough to fit a weight inside...

Then he blew at the flames before us. "Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh..."

The plastic bottle Uncle Yu had thrown was blown right back.

The wind was as cold as the bitter winds of midwinter.

The fire before us crackled, and more than half of it went out at once.

If Zhang Qiang blew out the fire completely, we would have nothing left to rely on.

Uncle Yu's face darkened. He bit the tip of his tongue and sprayed a mouthful of blood onto the Dragon-Head Cleaver in his hand.

Then he said to me,

"Xiao Jiang, I'll hold him off. You run."

After saying that, Uncle Yu didn't even wait for my answer.

He raised the bloodied cleaver and slashed at Zhang Qiang.

This time, Zhang Qiang did not stand there dully.

Instead, he dodged swiftly, avoiding the bloodied cleaver.

Uncle Yu missed, and Zhang Qiang swatted him to the ground with a backhanded claw.

"Uncle Yu!"

I cried out in panic.

"Run!"

Uncle Yu shouted again. He sprang to his feet and continued fighting Zhang Qiang.

Uncle Yu had gone this far to save a stranger he had never met.

How could I ever repay such kindness?

More importantly, Uncle Yu was only a Yin Chef, someone who prepared meals for the dead.

He clearly wasn't a fighter, much less some great Taoist priest who exorcised demons and subdued monsters.

It was obvious he was no match for Zhang Qiang, the Drowned Ghost.

And Zhang Qiang was trying to kill Uncle Yu.

If I really ran, Uncle Yu would definitely meet a bad end. He might even lose his life.

I wasn't a heartless, ungrateful person. I shouldn't have been selfish enough to abandon Uncle Yu, who was risking his life for me.

I stopped running too. I grabbed a bamboo pole and, following Uncle Yu's example, bit down hard on the tip of my tongue.

It really hurt.

Warm liquid quickly filled my mouth.

I spat it onto the bamboo pole in my hand.

Pfft!

Bright red blood stained the bamboo pole.

My eyes went bloodshot as I cursed,

"Uncle Yu, I'm coming to help!"

I raised the bamboo pole and charged in to help.

I thrust hard at Zhang Qiang's back.

The thrust missed, but it relieved the pressure on Uncle Yu.

When Uncle Yu saw that I hadn't fled and had even copied him by staining the bamboo pole with tongue-tip blood to help, he actually smiled at me.

Then he said,

"You've got loyalty, kid. Since you won't run, we'll take him on together."

"Alright!"

I gripped the bamboo pole and swung it fiercely at Zhang Qiang again.

But he was fast, unnaturally so.

That strike missed again.

When Zhang Qiang reappeared, he was standing blankly beside me, reaching out to strangle me.

Uncle Yu slashed at him.

Zhang Qiang turned his head and swiped back with a claw.

Bang! It struck Uncle Yu in the chest.

Uncle Yu was sent flying and crashed into the vegetable garden nearby.

Damn it!

I thrust the bamboo pole at him again.

But he was even faster. He grabbed my throat in one motion.

The bone-chilling cold made my neck ache unbearably, and half the strength in my body was drained away.

The bamboo pole fell straight from my hand.

But he didn't twist my neck.

Instead, he gripped my throat and dragged me toward a large water vat beside the vegetable garden.

No matter how hard I struggled, I couldn't break free.

Finally, Zhang Qiang clutched my neck and said faintly,

"Time to go..."

Then he shoved my head into the water vat.

He was a Drowned Ghost. He wanted me to become his replacement, so naturally he intended to drown me.

At that critical moment, Uncle Yu suddenly leaped up from behind.

With one slash, he cut off half of Zhang Qiang's human face and struck his arm.

The dull Zhang Qiang finally let out a scream.

The hand gripping me loosened as well.

When I pulled my head out of the water vat,

I saw that the cut-off half of Zhang Qiang's face exposed flesh, but there was no blood.

One of his hands was gripping Uncle Yu's throat, shoving him toward the edge of the rooftop.

Half of Uncle Yu's body was already hanging in midair, and he was about to be pushed off the rooftop...