Three hours later, the three arrived by car at the abandoned farmhouse in Richardson, Texas. Broken-down furniture and discarded liquor bottles lay scattered across the weed-choked yard. With its peeling walls and shattered windows, the house looked from a distance like a monster with its mouth open.
"This is the place?" Dean kicked a broken board by the entrance. "Other than being old and falling apart, it doesn't look like there's anything here."
Sam took out his laptop and pointed at the screen. "The website says the haunting stories started ten years ago. Supposedly, a farmer named Mordechai Murdock lost his entire family to starvation during the Great Depression, then hanged himself. His vengeful spirit stayed here afterward, targeting girls who broke in. Three teenagers came exploring yesterday, and one of the girls was strung up. But after the police arrived, they couldn't find her body anywhere."
Just then, two young men carrying large bags came out of the farmhouse. One of them, a boy with thick glasses, saw the peachwood sword in Bai Haorui's hand and sneered. "Wow, another fraud playing ghost hunter."
His name was Ed, and the stockier boy beside him was Harry. They ran the website "Hell Hound's Lair" and called themselves "professional paranormal investigators." Harry held an electromagnetic detector. The needle on its display wavered slightly, but showed no obvious reaction.
Dean immediately perked up and patted Bai Haorui's shoulder. "Hey, Master Bai, looks like we've met some colleagues."
Ignoring Ed's mockery, Bai Haorui raised the Five Emperor Coins beside Harry's detector. Instantly, the coins blazed with blue-green light. The detector's needle spun wildly, and a shrill alarm rang out. Harry's hand jerked in fright, and he nearly dropped the device.
"Wh-what is that?" Ed's glasses slid down to the tip of his nose as he stared at the Five Emperor Coins in shock.
"Heh. Watch what you say next time, brother. Running your mouth will offend people." Bai Haorui put the coins away and said evenly, "Your detector can only detect energy anomalies. It can't tell yin energy from ordinary electromagnetic interference. My Five Emperor Coins can identify the exact type and concentration of yin energy. What's here is 'hallucinatory yin energy.' It amplifies people's fears and creates hallucinations."
Sam stepped in to smooth things over. "All right, all right. We're after the same thing. Let's figure out what's going on with this spirit first."
The five entered the farmhouse together. Chaotic symbols covered the walls, some resembling crosses, others strange geometric shapes. They looked eerie and sinister. Ed excitedly pointed at them. "These are medieval curse runes! I researched them. They're used to summon evil spirits!"
Bai Haorui shook his head. "These aren't curse runes. The cross-shaped one is artwork from a Blue Oyster Cult album cover, and that triangle is an illustration from a theology textbook. These symbols were thrown together. They have no power to curse anything."
Sam immediately took out his laptop and searched, quickly confirming Bai Haorui's explanation. "Ten years ago, two teenagers made up Mordechai's legend as a prank and drew these symbols on the walls. The story spread until it became the 'Hell House' legend we have now."
"Then why did a real vengeful spirit appear?" Harry asked in confusion.
"Because enough people believed," Bai Haorui slowly explained, drawing on the system's notification. "This isn't an ordinary ghost. It's what Daoists call 'Obsession Manifestation.'" As he spoke, he took out his notebook again and found a similar account.
During the plum rains in Suzhou, threads of rain stretched like unbroken silver strands, weaving heaven and earth into a gray net. Outside the city stood a Wenchang Temple.
Five scholars preparing for the examinations had once lived there. All were sixteen or seventeen, and apart from their arduous studies, they found life so dull that staying there made them restless. One rainy night, an oil lamp flickered with dim yellow light while wind drove raindrops against the broken windows, making a mournful sound like someone crying. No one knew who spoke first, bringing up an incident from a century earlier: a scholar who had repeatedly failed the examinations had slit his own throat with a sword inside Wenchang Temple. His head rolled beneath the altar, and strange things had happened in the temple ever since.
"Why don't we make up a headless ghost story to tease the villagers nearby?" suggested a scholar in a blue cotton robe, laughing. "It'll relieve the boredom."
The others immediately agreed. They began deliberately creating "supernatural phenomena": painting bloody handprints on the walls with cinnabar, imitating ghostly cries in low voices at midnight, and even secretly killing the village chickens and sprinkling their blood on the stone steps outside the temple. They enjoyed themselves immensely every day. Soon, the news seemed to grow wings, spreading through several nearby villages. The villagers were already superstitious, and with the scholars' vivid descriptions, each retelling grew more outlandish. Eventually, some even claimed they had personally seen a headless ghost in a blue-green robe wandering through the temple.
At first, the scholars were pleased with their "masterpiece." But as the legend spread, even they gradually grew frightened. When they studied at night, they kept feeling movement beneath the altar. The wind blowing through the broken windows sounded like the headless ghost's wails. Some even woke in the middle of the night, claiming they had seen a tall black figure beside their beds, with nothing above its neck.
Fear quietly wound around their hearts like vines. They began blaming and reproaching one another, but the more they did, the stronger that lingering terror became. They considered stopping and revealing the truth, but faced with the villagers' terrified eyes and the ever-spreading stories, they could only steel themselves and keep concealing it.
Then, one morning, a scholar's body was discovered.
He lay dead outside the temple, his head missing. The cut across his neck was as smooth as if made by a sharp blade, yet there was not a single drop of blood. The villagers erupted, saying the headless ghost had come to claim lives. Then came the second, the third... Within three short days, all five scholars died horribly, each in exactly the same way.
Panic engulfed the area completely. The villagers shut themselves indoors, and families with black dogs untied them at night to let them roam the village. No one dared approach the ruined temple even in daylight. As things grew worse, a wandering Daoist passed through. He wore a patched blue-green Daoist robe washed nearly white, carried a cloth bag on his back, and held a peachwood sword. A steady righteousness showed in his face.
After hearing about the headless ghost, the Daoist said little and entered Wenchang Temple alone. Dust covered the interior. The statue of Lord Wenchang on the altar was missing an arm, and cobwebs veiled its face, making it look particularly eerie. The Daoist brushed his fingertips over the bloody handprints on the wall, bent to examine the gaps beneath the altar, then picked up a scripture worn ragged from the floor, his brows drawing together slightly.
"This is no haunting by the dead. It is Obsession Manifestation," the Daoist told the villagers gathered at the entrance after leaving the ruined temple. "Those five scholars invented the headless ghost legend and stirred your fear. Because they failed to clarify the truth in time, these obsessions gathered together and took the shape of a headless ghost."
The villagers were doubtful. Someone asked, "Daoist master, how can we get rid of this headless ghost?"
The Daoist shook his head. "It was never a true ghost or monster. How can we speak of 'getting rid' of it? It can only be dissolved."
That night, the Daoist set up a ritual altar outside Wenchang Temple. He lit three sticks of incense and placed the brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones the scholars had left behind on the altar. Then he took several yellow talismans from his cloth bag, bit his fingertip, and swiftly drew talismanic markings on the paper. Moonlight broke through the clouds and fell across the altar, and the talismans glimmered faintly gold.
"Heaven and earth are boundless; I borrow the power of the cosmos." Holding his peachwood sword, the Daoist silently recited an incantation, formed a hand seal, and flung the yellow talismans into the air. They burned in midair, becoming streaks of golden light that flew deep into the ruined temple.
The temperature inside the temple plummeted. A sinister wind howled out, and a tall black figure emerged through the doors. It wore a blue-green robe, with nothing above its neck: the very headless ghost the villagers had described. The shadow roared and lunged at the Daoist.
Unhurried, the Daoist pointed his peachwood sword at the shadow. "Gathered from obsession, you have no physical form. Born of human hearts, you must return to nothingness."
He stepped forward and swept the peachwood sword through an arc. Golden light flashed. The shadow gave a painful wail, its body becoming much more transparent. The Daoist then lit the scripture on the altar. Wisps of smoke rose and merged with the night.
"Those scholars did wrong, but they have paid the price." The Daoist's voice was steady and clear. "The dead are gone; the living must carry on. Only by releasing obsession can you transcend."
The shadow's movements gradually slowed. Five indistinct outlines of heads slowly appeared above its neck, their faces filled with regret that had come too late. Moments later, the shadow became a wisp of smoke and vanished in the moonlight. The temperature in the temple gradually returned to normal, and the suffocating pressure slowly faded.
The Daoist put away his peachwood sword and turned to the villagers. "There is no need to be afraid anymore. The obsession has dispersed. Repair this temple, and nothing strange will ever happen here again."
The villagers thanked him one after another. He waved a hand, shouldered his cloth bag, and disappeared into the night. Only Wenchang Temple remained, standing quietly beneath the moonlight as though nothing had happened.
Later, another wandering Daoist passed through with his disciple. After hearing the story, he told his disciple, "Many voices can melt metal; relentless slander can destroy bone. Where obsession gathers, it too can take form."
"Sometimes, the most frightening things are not ghosts and monsters, but the obsessions in human hearts." The Daoist stroked his young disciple's head, his eyes solemn. "When enough people believe something false, it becomes real. That is the power of obsession, and what we Daoists mean by 'the heart's direction gives birth to the world around it.'"
Many voices can melt metal; relentless slander can destroy bone. Where obsession gathers, it too can take form.
Those words were more than a comment on a story; they were a warning about the human heart. "So it relies on people's fear and belief to exist. Every time the legend on the website is updated, its abilities change along with it. Didn't you say on your website last week that Mordechai was afraid of silver?"
Ed nodded. "Yes! We just wanted to make the legend more believable. We never expected..."
"Then a silver knife can hurt him now," Bai Haorui added. He took out a handful of glutinous rice and scattered it toward a corner. Nothing happened when it landed. "Ordinary ghosts fear glutinous rice, but it doesn't. That's because it isn't a physical entity. It's a thought-form manifested through collective belief."
Dean raised an eyebrow. "So we're dealing with a 'ghost everyone imagined into existence'?"
"You could put it that way. It's like buying a good-luck bracelet and having your luck actually improve. Is that because the bracelet really works, or because buying it makes you pay particular attention to the good things that happen to you?" Bai Haorui closed his notebook. "Its weaknesses depend on what people believe it fears."
To test that conclusion, the five decided to venture deeper into the farmhouse again and find the spirit's core. They had just reached the second-floor hallway when the air turned freezing and the light dimmed. Ed's detector sounded its alarm again.
"Watch out!" The moment Sam spoke, their surroundings distorted.
The familiar apartment appeared before Sam. Jessica stood in the living room, wearing his favorite white dress and smiling as she reached toward him. But a second later, flames burst through the floor and swallowed her body. She screamed Sam's name, her eyes filled with despair. "Jessica! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Sam fell to his knees, clutched his head, and howled in anguish.
Dean saw his father, John, tied to a cross. The Yellow-Eyed Demon stood before him, holding a knife and slowly slicing his skin. "Dean! Help me!" John's voice was hoarse, and blood ran down his arms. Dean's eyes reddened. He grabbed his silver knife and charged. "Let him go!"
Bai Haorui, however, saw a different scene: in a sunny little courtyard, his young parents sat on stone stools. His mother held a palm-leaf fan, while his father smiled as he peeled an orange for his younger self. "Haorui, come have an orange." His mother beckoned him over. The scene was so warm that his nose stung.
[Warning: Hallucination has triggered deep-seated obsession. Vengeful spirit energy is strengthening!]
The system panel's red warning appeared. Bai Haorui abruptly snapped out of it and bit the tip of his tongue, the pain clearing his head completely. "This is bad! It's the spirit's trap!"
He immediately took out sulfur and sandalwood and lit them with a lighter. Thick smoke instantly spread. "Eyes behold the truth; the heart breaks falsehood. Evil spirits' illusions have nowhere to hide!" Bai Haorui loudly recited the Breaking Illusion Spell. A faint red glow rose within the smoke and enveloped Sam and Dean.
Sam shook his head. The flames and Jessica vanished, leaving only the cold farmhouse hallway. Breathing hard, he took the Clear Heart Talisman Bai Haorui offered and pressed it to his chest. "That... felt so real."
Dean broke free of his hallucination too. His face was pale, and the hand gripping his silver knife trembled slightly. "Son of a bitch! These hallucinations again!"
"The spirit grows stronger by absorbing people's fear," Bai Haorui explained. "The more afraid we are, the stronger its energy becomes."
Ed and Harry had already been driven frantic by the hallucinations and ran screaming from the farmhouse, forgetting even their equipment. Without further hesitation, the three followed the direction indicated by the sulfur smoke and found the spirit's core: the bedroom wardrobe where Mordechai had killed himself.
The wardrobe door stood ajar. Low sobbing came from within, and intense yin energy seeped through the gap. Bai Haorui snapped inked carpenter's line around the wardrobe, leaving a ring of talismanic patterns. "This is a Spirit-Trapping Formation. It can hold it temporarily."
"We need Ed and Harry to post that 'Mordechai fears fire' on the website," Sam said, typing rapidly. "If enough people believe it, fire will become its weakness."
Dean immediately called Ed. The two were still shaken, but agreed to the request. Just as they were about to post the information, however, the server suddenly crashed. The page displayed "Unable to access."
"Damn it!" Sam slammed a fist into the wall. "The plan failed!"
The sobbing inside the wardrobe grew louder. The Spirit-Trapping Formation's ink lines began trembling, on the verge of breaking. Dean gritted his teeth and pulled a gasoline can from his backpack. "If it only exists in this house, we burn the house down, and it's gone!"
"No," Bai Haorui immediately stopped him. "If we burn the house directly, the spirit might take the chance to escape and attach itself somewhere else. I'll put up a Home Protection Talisman first to seal off its retreat, then ignite the wardrobe with Pure Yang Fire and completely destroy the vessel it's attached to."
He took mugwort, sulfur, and cinnabar from his backpack, mixed them into a paste, and spread it on his peachwood sword. Then he stuck the Home Protection Talisman to the wardrobe door. "Sam, open all the doors and windows. We need ventilation to get the fire going. Dean, pour the gasoline around the wardrobe when I call you."
Both immediately got to work. Sam quickly opened all the doors and windows, while Dean stood beside the wardrobe with the gasoline can, waiting. Bai Haorui drew a deep breath and recited an incantation. The mixture on his peachwood sword instantly ignited with pale blue flames: Pure Yang Fire, which specifically countered sinister and evil things.
"Pour the gasoline!"
Dean immediately splashed gasoline onto the wardrobe. Bai Haorui extended his peachwood sword toward it, and flames surged up, engulfing the entire wardrobe. Piercing screams came from inside. The spirit's shadow twisted and struggled in the flames, but the Home Protection Talisman held it firmly in place, preventing its escape.
The flames gradually died down. The wardrobe became a heap of ashes, and the spirit's presence vanished completely. Standing amid the wreckage, the three finally breathed sighs of relief.
The farmhouse fire brought the police, and the three left the scene amid the confusion. After Dean instructed Ed and Harry to film a video revealing the truth and post it on their website, Sam took out his phone and used a voice changer to pose as a Hollywood producer, calling Ed and Harry. "I saw the material on your website. It's fantastic. We'd like to turn your story into a movie. Come to Los Angeles tomorrow to discuss it in person."
Ed and Harry's excited shrieks came through the phone. The two immediately packed their bags, planning to leave as soon as they finished filming the video explaining the farmhouse mystery. Dean sneaked around behind their car and stuffed a dead fish he had just bought at the supermarket into the trunk, grinning smugly.
Watching their excited figures from behind, Bai Haorui shook his head helplessly. He took two Safety Talismans from his backpack and slipped them into theirs. "At least these can ward off minor evil spirits, so these two idiots don't go courting death again."
The three drove out of Texas, the setting sun stretching the car's shadow long behind it. Leaning back in the driver's seat, Dean suddenly spoke. "Hey, Sam, Bai. I have a suggestion."
"What suggestion?" Sam asked.
"How about a temporary hundred-mile truce in our prank war?" Dean grinned.
Bai Haorui took out the Breaking Illusion Talisman the system had rewarded him with and waved it teasingly. "This is a brain-growing talisman I drew just for you. Stick it on your forehead, and that clever IQ of yours can reclaim the high ground in your brain again."
Dean reached for the talisman. "You're the one who needs a brain! I'll burn all your talismans!"
"Don't you dare!"
"Heh. Why wouldn't I dare?"
Sitting in the passenger seat, Sam watched the two bicker and shook his head helplessly, but the corners of his mouth lifted despite himself.