The small town of Milford, Ohio, always had an eerie quiet about it. Even on a weekend afternoon, there were few pedestrians on Main Street. Only a handful of shops had their lights on, their signs swaying gently in the wind. Bai Haorui sat in a restaurant booth with a local newspaper in his hands. The headline stood out starkly: "Third 'Death in the Mirror' Case! Victims' Eyes Gouged Out-All Had Said 'Bloody Mary' Before Dying!"
"Bloody Mary." Dean took a sip of beer and tapped the newspaper. "Legend says if you light candles in front of a mirror and say 'Bloody Mary' three times, she'll come out of the mirror and gouge out your eyes. I thought it was just some kids' prank. Didn't think people would actually die."
Sam opened John's journal and skimmed through it. "Dad mentioned Bloody Mary in his notes, too. According to this, she was a witch back in 1910. The villagers caught her using witchcraft to hurt people, gouged out her eyes, then burned her to death. Her resentment attached itself to mirrors. Whenever someone summons her, she comes out for revenge and gouges out the summoner's eyes-because she doesn't have any herself."
Bai Haorui set down the newspaper, took out the Expelling Evil notebook, and turned to the page titled "Vengeful Spirits in Mirrors": (During the Republican era, a cluster of old Western-style houses with gray brick walls and dark tiled roofs lay tucked behind Avenue Joffre in Shanghai's French Concession. When Lin Wanqiu was looking for a room, the agent kept insisting, "The room on the third floor is the best value. Pass this one up, and you'll have a hard time finding anything this suitable." When she climbed the creaking wooden stairs, the first thing she saw was a mirror set in a bronze frame. Intertwining lotus vines were carved into the frame, with pale gray dust gathered in the petals' grooves. A thin mist veiled the glass, making reflections look as though they were behind gauze. Even her newly made moon-white qipao looked a little dim.
The landlady was a woman in her fifties, her hand clutching the brass key covered in calluses. As she handed over the key, she glanced toward the bathroom, her voice dropping. "That mirror belonged to the previous tenant, Miss Zhang. She passed away in the winter of the twentieth year of the Republic. She taught at St. John's University. Pretty girl, gentle, too. All she wanted was for her fiancé to come back from the United Kingdom. Who could have known that in the twelfth lunar month that year, word would arrive that the ocean liner Kangtai had struck a reef? That very night, she stood in front of this mirror and slit her wrist with a hairpin...
Lin Wanqiu's heart gave a jolt. The landlady added, "Afterward, I asked Daoist Master Chen from the end of the lane to take a look. He said her soul was clinging to her longing and had become bound to the mirror. He told me not to throw it out or let tenants comb their hair in front of it at night. He even put a Safety Talisman over the door, said it would keep some of the yin energy out." At the time, she had dismissed it as an older person's superstition and agreed with a smile. She had never expected trouble to come calling on a stormy night half a month later.
The rain fell hard that night, beating against the dormer window like countless hands slapping the glass. Her fellow tenant, Su Xiao, ran in carrying a dog-eared copy of Strange Tales of Shanghai, biscuit crumbs still clinging to its pages. She pointed to a page for Lin Wanqiu and the other two girls to see. "Look at this! It says that if a mirror in an old house has been stained with a dead person's blood, it becomes a 'soul-nurturing mirror.' If you comb your hair in front of it at night and call the deceased's name three times, you can see them.
Su Xiao's older cousin-aunt had once worked as a servant in this house. Su Xiao lowered her voice. "My aunt said that before Miss Zhang died, she combed her hair in front of the mirror every day. The comb's teeth were tangled with hair, and she was always talking to the mirror, saying, 'Why hasn't A Ming come back yet?' After she died, my aunt kept hearing the clacking of someone combing their hair in the bathroom when she got up at night. It scared her so badly she quit before she'd even worked a full month!"
"Seriously?" Li Juan huddled on the sofa with a hot-water bottle in her arms, but her eyes lit up. Young people were always curious about strange tales like these, especially girls like them who prided themselves on being women of the new era, even if they were frightened inside. Su Xiao had long since forgotten the landlady's warning and pulled the others toward the bathroom. "Let's try it! If we really see Miss Zhang, we can ask whether she's still waiting for A Ming!"
The bathroom was cramped, with half a crate of coal briquettes still piled in the corner. The smell of coal smoke mingled with dampness in the air. Su Xiao rummaged through a drawer and found an ox-horn comb left by previous tenants, its back worn to a shine. She lit the kerosene lamp. Its dim yellow light fell on the mirror, and the shadows of the intertwining lotus vines swayed across the wall as though they had come alive.
"Sister Wanqiu, you're brave. You go first." Su Xiao pushed the comb into Lin Wanqiu's hand. "Comb three times and call 'Miss Zhang' three times. Take it slowly. Don't panic."
The moment Lin Wanqiu's fingertips touched the teeth, she felt a chill crawl up from them. She stood facing the mirror. Her reflection looked pale, and even the color of her qipao seemed dull. As she drew the comb down for the first stroke, hair caught between its teeth with a soft click, and the temperature in the bathroom suddenly dropped. It was an autumn night, yet it felt as cold as deep winter. The kerosene flame shrank into a blue-green ball, and even the shadows seemed to radiate cold.
"Miss Zhang." Lin Wanqiu's voice trembled slightly. As soon as she called the name for the first time, the mist on the mirror suddenly moved-not as though blown by wind, but as though something behind the glass was wiping it away. A slender figure slowly emerged. It was a woman in a pale pink qipao, her hair cut to her ears with a pearl hair clip fastened near the ends. With her back to the mirror's surface, she was combing her hair, her movements as slow as a film played in slow motion.
"There... there really is someone!" Li Juan's voice tightened. She stepped half a pace backward, knocking her heel against the coal crate with a clatter. The woman in the mirror paused, then slowly turned around. Lin Wanqiu saw her face clearly: skin as white as rice paper, a tear mole the size of a grain of rice beneath her left eye, and lips utterly devoid of color. She clutched an ox-horn comb identical to the one in Lin Wanqiu's hand, with several black hairs still tangled in its teeth.
"A Ming... is that you?" The woman's voice was soft and weightless, like cotton falling onto water, with a hint of tears. Lin Wanqiu's throat tightened. She had barely said "Miss Zhang" for the second time when the woman's eyes suddenly turned red-not from crying, but from threads of blood seeping out of the whites. Blood ran down her cheeks and dripped onto her pale pink qipao, blooming into dark red flowers.
"Have you seen A Ming?" Her voice suddenly grew shrill. The comb in her hand fell against the mirror's surface with a sharp clack, but did not break. It seemed to remain inside the mirror, never falling into the real world. "He said he would come back in winter, that he would marry me... But I waited so long, and all that came was news that the Kangtai had struck a reef!"
Before the third "Miss Zhang" was fully spoken, tiny beads of blood suddenly seeped from the mirror. They ran down the grooves of the intertwining lotus vines and dripped onto the floor, collecting in a small puddle with a drip, drip, like tears falling to the ground. The woman slowly raised her hand, her nails a bluish white, and reached toward Lin Wanqiu. Her fingertips almost touched the mirror's surface. "Will you help me find him? I can't find him. I can't leave... I'm so cold. It's so dark here...
"Stay away!" Su Xiao screamed and tried to push the door open, but the handle seemed glued in place. No matter how she twisted it, it would not budge. Lin Wanqiu felt as though her feet had been nailed to the floor. The beads of blood clinging to her soles were icy cold and crawled up her trouser legs. She saw a small piece of off-white paper stuck to the hem of the woman's qipao in the mirror. It was a scrap of a ship ticket, with the faded imprint of "Kangtai" still visible.
Just as the woman's fingertips were about to touch the mirror's surface, a clear ringing of bronze bells suddenly came from downstairs, followed by the landlady's tearful voice. "Daoist Master Chen! Quickly! The third-floor bathroom! I just heard a woman crying inside, and the door won't open!"
The door creaked open, and Daoist Master Chen walked in. He wore a blue-green Daoist robe washed almost white, with flecks of mud still on the cuffs-presumably the landlady had summoned him so urgently that he had not had time to change. He held a bronze bagua mirror. As its light swept over the mirror's surface, the woman gave a faint, tremulous cry and retreated half a step. The blood in her eyes faded a little.
"Miss Zhang." Daoist Master Chen's voice was gentle, without a trace of sternness. He took a kraft-paper envelope from his sleeve. It had yellowed, and its corners were water-stained. "Your fiancé, Chen Mingyu, clung to a plank and drifted for three days after the Kangtai struck that reef. A fishing boat rescued him. He was badly injured and spent six months in a hospital in Singapore. The first thing he did after being discharged was send you a letter, but by then you had already..."
Daoist Master Chen handed the envelope to Lin Wanqiu and asked her to hold it up to the mirror. "You had already passed away when this letter arrived. I was afraid of disturbing your peace, so I kept it for you. He wrote about his hopes in this letter. Take a look.
Lin Wanqiu raised the envelope in front of the mirror, and the beads of blood suddenly stopped. The woman's gaze fell on the envelope. She slowly reached out, her fingertips passing through the mirror's surface, but she could not touch it. Her soul could only remain within the mirror; it could not touch things in the living world. Daoist Master Chen sighed, took out the letter, and unfolded it. "I'll read it to you. 'Wanwan, may reading these words be like seeing me in person. When the ship struck the reef, I thought of you still waiting for me, and I fought with everything I had to stay alive. I'm well now. Next month, I'll return home and take you to eat your favorite pastries at Xinghualou and go see the lanterns with you...'"
At the end of the letter was a drawing of a tiny tear mole, identical to the one on the woman's face. The woman in the mirror suddenly began to cry. This time, her tears were not blood but clear droplets that rolled down her cheeks and fell onto the mirror's surface, spreading through the beads of blood. "So... as long as he survived. As long as he survived." Her voice softened. The bloodstains on her qipao slowly faded, and even her gaze grew gentle.
"Your attachment was too deep. That was why you became bound to the mirror." Daoist Master Chen raised the bronze bagua mirror, its light soft. "Now your wish has been fulfilled, but your soul has been separated from your body for three years and carries too much yin energy. You cannot enter the cycle of reincarnation directly. I must seal you in the mirror temporarily. Once all the yin energy has dispersed in three years, I'll return to undo the seal and send you into reincarnation.
The woman looked at Daoist Master Chen, then at Lin Wanqiu outside the mirror, and nodded gently. Her figure slowly grew transparent and dispersed like mist. Only the shadow of the pearl hair clip lingered, wavering briefly on the mirror's surface. Daoist Master Chen took cinnabar from his sleeve, dipped his fingertip into it, and drew talismanic markings over the intertwining lotus pattern along the mirror's edge. With every stroke, a faint glow rippled over the glass, and the shadows of the lotus vines grew clearer, as though they had been traced anew.
"These are Soul-Subduing Talismans. They will protect you from malevolent yin forces and keep you from disturbing people in the living world again." Daoist Master Chen pasted three yellow talismans in the center of the mirror, crossing them into the character for "peace." "On the Winter Clothing Festival three years from now, I'll come remove the talismans. Then you can enter reincarnation in peace."
The faint glow in the mirror gradually faded, leaving only the intertwining lotus vines on the bronze frame. The pale gray dust in their grooves seemed to have been washed a little cleaner, and the mirror had brightened, too. When it reflected people again, the mist was finally gone. Lin Wanqiu's moon-white qipao looked especially bright in it.
The rain had stopped. A sliver of moonlight came through the window and fell on the mirror, casting a gentle glow. The landlady walked in and sighed at the sight of it. "She's finally at peace." As Daoist Master Chen packed away his ritual implements, he told Lin Wanqiu, "This mirror won't be haunted anymore. Just don't comb your hair in front of it at night again-not because of Miss Zhang, but because other malevolent yin forces might take advantage of the opening."
In the days that followed, there were no more sounds of hair being combed in the bathroom, nor any crying. Occasionally, when Lin Wanqiu got up at night, she would see a faint glow on the mirror, the shadows of the intertwining lotus vines swaying on the wall, as though someone inside were gently stroking that long-vanished pearl hair clip.) "Looks to me like this story is telling us to reform her. The problem is, she was a witch who got caught hurting people and was burned to death for it. How are we supposed to reform her? Dean, why don't you just charge in and smash the mirror?"
"Smash the mirror?" Dean frowned. "Someone already tried that. All the mirrors in the second victim's house were smashed, but someone still died afterward-the third victim died at the barbershop in town. They smashed the mirrors, too, but she still came out of a vanity mirror in the shop."
"Because they didn't find her 'core mirror.'" Bai Haorui pointed to an illustration in the Expelling Evil notebook. "Every mirror spirit has its own 'main mirror,' the mirror its resentment first attached itself to. Only by finding that core mirror, destroying it, and resolving her resentment can we make her disappear completely. Other mirrors are just her 'temporary passages.' Smashing them won't help."
Sam's eyes lit up. "Then we need to find Bloody Mary's core mirror first! The place where she was burned to death in 1910 should be where the mirror is." He immediately opened his laptop and searched for "Milford 1910 witch burning."
The results soon appeared. In 1910, the Milford witch burning had taken place in an abandoned church on the east side of town. At the time, there had been a huge bronze mirror in the church basement, a tool Bloody Mary used to practice witchcraft. The church had later burned down, and the bronze mirror's whereabouts were unknown.
"The abandoned church." Dean stood and picked up his jacket. "Let's head over there now, find that bronze mirror, and take her out."
The abandoned church stood hidden in the woods at the edge of town. Its outer walls were scorched black, and half the roof had collapsed, leaving only a few charred beams like an outstretched black claw. The cross at the entrance lay on the ground, covered in vines. As soon as Bai Haorui entered the church, the Five Emperor Coins in his pocket began to grow cold. The yin energy was stronger than that of the mirror spirit he had encountered before.
"She's here." Bai Haorui took out his peachwood sword, then pulled a bronze mirror from his backpack. He had bought it at an antique shop in town. It had a brass frame and a smooth surface. According to the notebook, Chinese bronze mirrors had a "Soul Subduing" property and could reveal a spirit's true form.
The three entered the basement. A rotten, musty smell filled the air, and broken boards and bricks littered the floor. At the far end of the basement, a huge bronze mirror stood against the wall. Strange patterns were carved into its brass frame. Though its surface was somewhat cloudy, it was unusually clean, without a speck of dust.
"This is the one." Sam raised his ultraviolet light and shone it onto the mirror. A pale violet glow spread over its surface-a sign of a spirit attached to it.
Suddenly, the mirror began to blur, as though a layer of mist had covered it. A woman's figure gradually emerged in the haze. She wore a long black dress, her hair disheveled. There were no eyes in her face, only two pitch-black holes. Dark red blood flowed from them and dripped down her cheeks.
"Bloody Mary!" Dean drew his silver knife and started forward, but Bai Haorui stopped him.
"Don't rush in!" Bai Haorui took out cinnabar powder and scattered it over the bronze mirror's frame. The instant the powder touched it, a faint red glow appeared. The woman in the mirror let out a piercing scream, her figure beginning to twist. "Her power comes from guilt. We need 'someone who feels guilty' to make her see her own sins."
Sam froze for a moment, then raised his hand. "I'll do it." He took a deep breath, walked up to the bronze mirror, and looked at Bloody Mary inside it. His voice was calm but firm. "I once abandoned my family because I was afraid. I've always regretted it... But I know regret is useless. What I need to do now is protect the people I care about."
At Sam's words, Bloody Mary suddenly went still inside the mirror, more blood flowing from her hollow eye sockets. She seemed to remember something. Her body began to tremble, and ripples spread across the mirror. Bai Haorui knew his chance had come. Tightening his grip on the peachwood sword, he took out another handful of cinnabar powder and scattered it across the glass. "Sam, keep talking! Make her see her own sins!"
"You gouge out other people's eyes because yours were gouged out. That isn't revenge. It's slaughter!" Sam's voice grew louder and louder. "You were a victim once, but now you've become the one hurting people. Don't you regret it?"
Bloody Mary let out a scream of pain inside the mirror, her body beginning to turn transparent. Bai Haorui seized the chance, raised his peachwood sword, and slashed at the glass. The instant the sword struck, red light burst out, and cracks spread across the mirror like a spiderweb. Bloody Mary's figure twisted and faded inside it, finally turning into a wisp of white smoke that dispersed into the air.
The bronze mirror shattered into several pieces with a bang. Cinnabar powder and mirror shards scattered across the floor, and the yin energy in the basement gradually dispersed. All three leaned against the wall, breathing hard, their clothes covered in dust.
"Finally got her." Dean wiped the sweat from his forehead and looked at the pieces of bronze mirror on the floor. "This Bloody Mary was even harder to deal with than the Wendigo."
Bai Haorui smiled and put the peachwood sword into his backpack. The system's notification sounded in his mind:
[Host has successfully eliminated Bloody Mary. Active skill "Breaking Illusion" unlocked (can use an item to reveal a vengeful spirit's core sins).] [Received free attribute point ×1 (current attributes: strength 7, constitution 6, agility 6, HP 18/18).]
Bai Haorui added the attribute point to "agility" and immediately felt his reactions speed up a little more. His agility had now reached 6, one point above an ordinary adult's, allowing him to run faster than other people when danger struck.
Sam walked over and patted Bai Haorui on the shoulder. "Haorui, you're getting better and better at this. I really can't believe you'd never dealt with any of it before."
"Oh, come on. I'm just an ordinary genius, that's all." Bai Haorui pointed at Dean. "Besides, isn't someone still waiting for my sticky rice bullets? Next time we run into a Shapeshifter, I'll make you a few."
Dean rolled his eyes. "How many times have you said that? I haven't seen a damn thing." He bent down, picked up a piece of the bronze mirror, and put it into an evidence bag. "Let's go. We're continuing on to Minnesota. There are rumors of a 'Shapeshifter' there."