“Are you sure she won’t come back?” Fu Miaoxue hesitantly moved the table aside and poked her head out to scan the area. “…If she catches up to us halfway there, we’re completely finished.”

Bai Youwei gave her a cool glance. “What are you afraid of? Even if she does catch up, she’ll definitely catch me first.”

Fu Miaoxue took this in and let out a haughty, disdainful snort. “Was I scared? What do I have to be scared of? I’m already a walking dead person — I don’t feel pain, I don’t feel discomfort. Even if she caught up to me, she couldn’t do a thing to me!”

Bai Youwei regarded her with skeptical scrutiny. “So you’re… some kind of undying entity right now?”

“How should I know?” Fu Miaoxue glared at her irritably. “It’s not like I’m going to randomly kill myself just to run an experiment!”

Bai Youwei smiled slightly. “What a shame not to try~”

Fu Miaoxue’s eyes went wider. “Demon!”

The two women bickered for a few more exchanges, then went out the door one after the other.

Outside, the sky was very black. The rain was very heavy. The fluffy rabbit hopped up onto the wheelchair and curled into Bai Youwei’s lap, quickly becoming a thoroughly soaked rabbit.

Fu Miaoxue walked nervously ahead, glancing around anxiously every few moments.

Her pace was clearly faster than Bai Youwei’s in her wheelchair — but she didn’t dare go on alone, somehow always feeling safer when she stayed close to Bai Youwei.

They walked for a long time without the Bone-Hauling Woman appearing in pursuit. Gradually, they left the village behind.

The old scholar’s estate was not far ahead. The red lanterns beneath the eaves cast a hazy glow through the pitch-black curtain of rain.

Fu Miaoxue allowed herself a small sigh of relief.

But then she remembered the two paper-figure constructs inside the estate, and her unease returned.

If the village weren’t so terrifyingly dangerous, she truly did not want to spend another night in this place!

……

Before Bai Youwei and Fu Miaoxue could reach the front gate, Du Lai and Shen Mo heard the sounds of their approach and came out to meet them.

Du Lai saw the two of them unharmed and was somewhat surprised.

He and Shen Mo were already among the most capable fighters — yet even they hadn’t been able to handle the Bone-Hauling Woman and had only barely escaped by fleeing. Yet these two women had come back completely intact.

Though he already had a vague inkling that Bai Youwei had intervened, he still couldn’t help asking: “How did you two escape?”

Bai Youwei answered lightly: “Used an item.”

Shen Mo walked over and squeezed her hand. Her body temperature was ice cold; he frowned. “Let’s get inside first.”

— Fu Miaoxue was a puppet, so illness likely couldn’t touch her, but Bai Youwei had a weak constitution and caught cold easily.

The four of them entered the estate once more.

The outer gate, like on the first night, was standing open.

The inner gate was only pulled to — a light push swung it open.

They crossed the stone-paved front courtyard to the main hall, which was bright with lamplight. The two paper-figure constructs sat in their high-backed chairs; the offerings of pastries and fruits still lay on the table, candle flames wavering.

The old scholar, dressed in a grey-blue long robe, held a scroll in his hands and was reciting aloud beside the paper figures.

He read with great concentration — a concentration tinged with something like nervousness, the look of a child whose parents are checking his homework.

Bai Youwei had expected the old scholar to set them another challenge, but instead, when he saw them, he simply cupped his hands in greeting and said politely: “Ah, the honored guests have returned. It is late — please retire to your rooms and rest.”

Not the slightest intent to make things difficult.

That suited them.

They had only just escaped the Bone-Hauling Woman with their lives, and had no energy to deal with another adversary.

For some reason, Fu Miaoxue looked back once more at the paper figures.

She seemed afraid they might follow her — after casting a quick, furtive glance, she clutched Du Lai’s arm tightly and quickened her pace.

Du Lai walked with a limp.

Back in the side room, candles lit, both men checked their injuries. Du Lai’s ankle — where the Bone-Hauling Woman had seized him — was wounded without question.

The scratch marks on Shen Mo’s back had turned dark blue-black, the skin looking as if it were on the verge of decay.

These were no ordinary wounds.

They looked like corpse poison — or something akin to a malevolent energy. Treatment with the mud-type items had no effect.

—