The Art of Stealing Longevity

The steward, He Fusheng, brought back an important piece of news: the unconscious Cheng Zhi had finally recovered.

He Ping himself was quite concerned about this matter.

It was highly likely that Cheng Zhi had some connection to the Immortal Puppet Sect, which meant there was an opportunity for him to dig up some information from this man.

"There are still secrets surrounding Cheng Zhi. For instance, the business at the Cheng Family Ranch is far from ordinary. And then there is his sister, who died under suspicious circumstances in the ancestral hall..."

He Ping recalled the sight of the female corpse he had seen in the ancestral hall—Cheng Zhi's sister, that corpse, had died a miserable death.

One look at her features revealed that her resentment had congealed and refused to dissipate, and white fur had even sprouted from her body. From this, it was clear that Cheng Yujiao's method of death was not simple; she had likely been strangled with a straw rope, and after death, the woman's resentment was immense, her obsession lingering.

"However, she was not killed by the evil spirits in the ancestral hall."

He Ping had examined Cheng Yujiao's corpse and knew she hadn't been killed by a ghost; many evil spirits left behind traces of yin energy after a kill. There was none on Cheng Yujiao, which proved she must have died at human hands.

"In that ancestral hall, was Cheng Zhi the only one there?"

If that were the case, the identity of the murderer who killed Cheng Yujiao could be confirmed.

But why would Cheng Zhi kill his own sister? Could it be that he was possessed by a ghost in the ancestral hall, or was there some other hidden story?

At this thought, He Ping furrowed his brows, a pensive expression crossing his face.

Cheng Zhi felt exhausted. He lay on the bed, his mind muddled and heavy, his mouth still muttering things like, "It wasn't me," "I didn't do it," and "Spare me!"

He was dreaming, his dreams a chaotic mess, and he constantly felt as though a shadow were standing by the bed where he lay.

At night, moonlight as thin as gauze filtered in through the window. Sleeping into the latter half of the night, Cheng Zhi tossed and turned on the bed; that eerie sensation was exceptionally distinct, impossible to shake off.

On a somewhat dilapidated and crooked wooden table, a red candle was lit, its flame flickering, dimming and brightening as if it might go out at any moment.

He didn't know how long he had struggled, but he finally woke up.

"How long have I been asleep?"

Cheng Zhi rubbed his brow, feeling slightly more clear-headed.

In an instant, his frozen memories began to return. He remembered being saved and then placed in some remote mountain village. Because of the poison, he had been lying in bed, muddled and unconscious for the past few days...

"After that, I ran a high fever and remained in a coma."

Cheng Zhi wanted to get up, but felt his limbs lacked strength.

He turned his head and could see that this was a rural house with a wooden roof, like an attic. Outside the paper window to the side, dark clouds obscured the moon, and the candle flame flickered, the light in the room unstable.

Thump.

It sounded like a knock at the door. Subconsciously, Cheng Zhi glanced toward the door.

Suddenly, his heart skipped a beat. The door to the room had actually been pushed open, leaving a narrow gap.

In the gap of the door, it seemed as if someone was standing sideways, peeking at the person inside the room.

Cheng Zhi, sitting on the bed, felt his pupils violently tremble. He noticed a pale, greenish eyeball pressed tightly against the gap between the two door panels; the person hiding behind the door was glaring at the only living soul in the room.

His scalp went numb, and his heart hammered wildly. Just outside the door, that pale, greenish eye seemed to be bulging out of its socket, the protruding eyeball covered in scarlet bloodshot veins.

"...Who..."

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. His throat felt as if it were blocked, emitting a raspy, rattling sound.

The candlelight on the table turned ghostly, tinged with green, and the entire room was permeated with a gloomy, emerald hue.

Thump... Thump—

The door was pushed by a force several times. Cheng Zhi's face stiffened, layers of goosebumps instantly crawling over his entire body, and a large amount of cold sweat seeped out from his back.

(Damn it... that thing wants to come in...)

His breathing became exceptionally rapid. The thing outside the door actually wanted to break into the room!

Cheng Zhi felt an extreme sense of terror. He had a strong, underlying feeling that if the thing outside the door broke into this room, he would be dead for sure.

"I have to escape!"

He turned his head to look toward the window. The only window in the room was very narrow; it was clearly difficult for an adult to crawl through.

But Cheng Zhi had no choice now. He took the initiative to crawl toward the window, thrusting his head out into the night.

"Eh?"

Cheng Zhi had only extended his neck halfway when he felt something strange. The window felt even narrower than he had imagined; the parts of him other than his head could not pass through at all, as if he were stuck in the window frame.

"What, what is going on?"

He vaguely felt that something was wrong, because his neck was caught on the window, making it uncomfortable, and even his breathing became labored.

"No, this isn't right... This isn't a window!!"

Cheng Zhi suddenly widened his eyes. He discovered that his neck was looped in a straw rope, and this straw rope was hanging from a ceiling beam.

"I... I'm hanging myself?!"

Every hair on his body stood on end. With a burst of strength in his feet, he kicked over a wooden stool, and as his neck was constricted by the straw rope, his legs dangled in mid-air, kicking frantically.

Cheng Zhi naturally did not want to die. He stretched out his hands toward his neck, trying to untie the straw rope.

It was only because of his previous injuries that he was clearly unable to muster the strength, and coupled with the ice-cellar chill of the room, Cheng Zhi was shocked to find he could not untie the straw rope around his neck. His limbs were limp and weak; he could not even lift a single finger.

"Can't... untie it."

The sudden onset of despair, accompanied by an irrepressible pressure on his neck, made Cheng Zhi feel he had reached his breaking point. His vision went black, and his consciousness nearly slipped into a faint.

The air was sliced by a sharp, whistling sound, and the straw rope strangling his neck was severed.

Cheng Zhi's body tumbled down from the air.

"...Cough, cough, cough..."

With the rope broken, he clutched the welts on his neck and coughed several times before he finally regained his senses.

Just then, the candlelight in the room returned to normal, no longer that ghastly, ghostly green.

"This is... the Hair-Cutting Pill."

His consciousness barely recovered, and his vision cleared. He opened his eyes wide, then picked up the straw rope from the floor; it had been sliced through by a small ball of tangled hair.

"Who... who saved me?"

He turned his head and saw the main door of the room had been opened, and outside stood a paper-pasted ghost mask.

The paper mask was painted with a face—a strange, squinting, smiling face that looked exceptionally eerie under the flickering light of the night.

"You are Cheng Zhi of the Cheng Family Ranch."

The ghost mask's voice was low and hoarse, filled with a murderous aura.

"I truly did not expect that the first thing you would do upon waking was to attempt suicide. Are you tired of living?"

"Who are you?" Cheng Zhi was struck with terror.

"The one who saved your life."

The ghost mask wore a black robe, his hands tucked into wide sleeves. He stepped slowly into the room, and the two doors behind him creaked shut on their own.

"Why did you try to kill yourself?"

The person wearing the paper mask was, naturally, He Ping. As soon as he entered the room and saw Cheng Zhi preparing to hang himself, his brows could not help but furrow.

"Suicide... no, that is not it."

At the thought of something, Cheng Zhi's face turned pale with panic.

"--It is this room. There is a ghost here. I was just bewitched by a ghost and nearly tricked into hanging myself."

"Oh?"

He Ping became alert. He channeled his mental energy to inspect the room, yet he detected no traces of any ghostly presence.

(This place is a farmhouse on an estate my He Family purchased outside Suian City. It is usually just a civilian dwelling; how could there possibly be a ghost here for no reason?)

He felt suspicious of Cheng Zhi's claim, but he changed the subject instead.

"Speaking of which, there is one thing I do not understand. Since when did techniques like my sect's 'Formless String' and 'Hair-Cutting Pill' flow into the Cheng Family Ranch? Why do you and that sister of yours, Cheng Yujiao, know how to use the 'Hair-Cutting Pill' method?"

Cheng Zhi had been feeling uneasy, but when he looked up and saw a pair of eyes flickering with strange light behind the mask, and heard that eerie voice like grinding iron sand, he trembled.

"Could it be that you stole the techniques of my sect? Do not force me to demand the truth."

The masked stranger questioned him sternly. Although his voice was not particularly loud, it transmitted a ripple through the air. As it entered his ears, a dull thud echoed in his brain like a golden bell being struck, shaking Cheng Zhi until half his body went numb and his blood surged.

"Stole techniques," "my sect," "demand the truth"... This series of words triggered something, and Cheng Zhi's chaotic thoughts suddenly became a little clearer.

(Could it be that this person belongs to the same sect as that senior, Chixinzi... Even if not, the other party is no ordinary practitioner; he is likely a true master...)

Cheng Zhi was not without experience; he immediately realized he had encountered someone of profound cultivation and hurriedly knelt down.

"Senior, this is a long story. Please allow me to explain in detail!!!"

The Cheng Family Ranch was located on the outskirts of Beizhou Prefecture, and for generations, they had made their living by herding and trading horses.

According to Cheng Zhi's own account, it was said that the Cheng ancestors had migrated from Zhonghuan Prefecture and originally dealt in the fur trade.

Because they encountered bandits and could no longer continue the fur business, the Cheng ancestor steeled his heart and brought his entire family to the frontier plains to make a living.

The Cheng ancestor first started a small ranch, and because it was managed well, it gradually expanded. He united some of the nearby herdsmen and merged several small ranches into one large one.

Over the decades, relying on their skill in raising and herding horses, the horses the Cheng family cultivated became the target of horse traders from all over who scrambled to buy them.

Cheng Zhi's grandfather was named Cheng Tianyou. He was heroic and loyal by nature, and he once led eighteen skilled men from the ranch to bravely charge into Baishi Valley, where he completely annihilated a band of two hundred mountain bandits entrenched there.

The Cheng Family Ranch became famous after that battle. The trade route from Suian City in Beizhou to Baishi Valley, which had once been a place where horse thieves and mountain bandits were rampant and travelers spoke of it with terror, became very peaceful because of the influence of the Cheng Family Ranch.

Cheng Tianyou was full of heroic spirit, and in his daily life, he was generous with wealth and quick to help those in need.

Once, while traveling far from home, he saved a beggar who was being hunted by thugs. The beggar's injuries were extremely severe, and after struggling for only a few days, he breathed his last.

After the beggar died, Cheng Tianyou obtained a strange bowl from him.

The old beggar had claimed that it was because of this bowl that he was being hunted, and to repay Cheng Tianyou's kindness, he would simply give the bowl to him.

After the old beggar died, Cheng Tianyou did not think much of it and took the bowl with him. This bowl was later kept by the Cheng family in their secret vault.

Cheng Zhi himself had never seen the bowl, but he had heard his father say that it was a strange bowl, seemingly made from a human skull.

The bowl was painted with unknown sigils and demonic, ghostly patterns that looked like scribbles. Inlaid with gold and silver along its rim, the stark white bowl gave off an unsettling sensation, radiating a chilling, ominous aura.

"That is an inauspicious object; your grandfather knew as much, which is why he tucked that Bone Bowl away."

That was what Cheng Zhi's father had said.

"But what exactly is that Bone Bowl? Why is it inauspicious?"

Cheng Zhi had asked out of curiosity at the time.

"That Bone Bowl can steal life."

Cheng Zhi's father let out a soft sigh.

"...It steals a person's remaining years."