Histoires de fantômes

Chapitre 82

I exclaimed in shock, "Ah! That powerful? Ye Daheng was... afflicted with such a powerful spell?"

Although our conversation didn't explicitly name the tycoon's past romantic escapades, we both tacitly understood. The Chinese underworld is only so big; any gossip about a prominent figure will spread throughout the community within minutes.

Guan Baoling doesn't belong to this underworld, because judging from her tone and thought process, she has no idea about the relationship between me, Xunfuyuan, Scalpel, and the tycoon, and she would actually resort to such a desperate measure to seek help.

“It’s… ‘Bone and Blood Curse’…Isn’t it amazing?” She smiled bitterly, resting her right elbow on the armrest of the armchair, her right palm against her forehead, lost in deep sorrow.

I nodded, feeling a heavy weight pressing down on my heart. Previously, the scalpel had only said the tycoon was under "black magic," but hadn't specified what kind.

The method for applying the "Blood Curse" requires obtaining the blood and bones of the cursed person's descendants, adding twenty-one strange caterpillars unique to Guatemala, and then refining them into poisonous blood during a special season. The sorcerer will use this poisonous blood to write the cursed person's name on an ivory pillar engraved with cursed characters, repeating this process daily until the poisonous blood is used up.

The most insidious aspect of this method is that both casting and breaking the curse require the cursed person's own flesh and blood—no sane person would willingly use their own offspring's blood and flesh to save their own life, or suffer alone. Therefore, this seemingly "unbreakable" black magic is actually impossible to break.

If the tycoon only suffered from erectile dysfunction (ED), that would be the least of his worries. In the Guatemalan encyclopedia of witchcraft, there are over a hundred examples of "blood curses," which subject the cursed person to 365 days a year of caterpillars gnawing at their brains until the brains are completely drained, leaving them as a mindless, unresponsive corpse…

"I understand... I understand..." Another chill ran down my spine as I remembered the black and silver woodpecker ring on Resica's hand on the plane. Whether or not it carried a curse of dark magic, it was undeniably terrifying. At least for me, I never wanted to be associated with anything related to dark magic.

"If you can help me, would you give up the villa?" Seeing my silence, Guan Baoling seemed to have hope again.

I waved both hands together: "No need to say anything, Miss Guan. The 'Bone and Blood Curse' is so powerful that the Japanese simply can't break it. The instructions you received are probably just some people with ulterior motives deliberately trying to confuse you. I won't sell the villa, much less demolish it. You'd better think of another way..."

If even Zhang Baisen from mainland China couldn't break the "Bone and Blood Curse," I certainly wouldn't believe that such a master existed in the small Fengge Temple.

Zhang Baisen is a legendary figure in the mainland's paranormal community. His father was once highly regarded by Zhang Zuolin, the warlord of the Northeast Army, as his chief advisor and honored guest. In the oral tradition of the people of the three northeastern provinces, he was known as "Zhang Tianshi reborn".

I couldn't bear to look into Guan Baoling's even more disappointed eyes. Just as I was about to tell her to leave, she stood up gracefully, blushing, and asked in a low voice, "Mr. Feng, may I use your restroom?"

Her long hair fell silently down, like the most perfect black tassels in the world, carrying an indescribable elegance with a 100% Chinese flavor.

I nodded, pointed to the bathroom door, and sighed instead of answering. If there were another way to help her, I would have done it without hesitation. In fact, if it weren't for Watanabe and his group of Japanese suddenly becoming unusually interested in Xunfuyuan, I might have chosen to sell it to Guan Baoling.

Now, I suspect that Guan Baoling was being used by someone with ulterior motives. Watanabe Castle is incredibly powerful; setting up such a small trap to use Guan Baoling as a pawn would be a piece of cake for him.

Upstairs, the grandfather clock started chiming again, this time eight times in a row.

My watch just showed 7:10, so it seems the accuracy of that old clock is highly questionable.

The fire in the fireplace gradually died down, so I added four more pieces of firewood and stared at the fireplace wall for a few minutes. Since the bell was there, I even hoped that the bubbling sound would reappear, at least there would be a witness here. However, things rarely go as planned; the more I hoped for its appearance, the less I heard the strange noise, only the crackling sound of the burning firewood.

My stomach suddenly started growling, and I realized that I hadn't eaten dinner yet.

Looking at the two vases on the fireplace—"If it weren't for this villa deal, being able to enjoy a rose and candlelight dinner with superstar actress Kwan Po-ling without any distractions would be a very pleasant thing, even if it was just drinking and chatting, right?" I'm a man, not some old monk who only knows how to close his eyes and chant scriptures and sit in meditation. Faced with the vibrant and colorful world, I can't help but feel a slight ripple in my heart.

Confucius said: "Food and sex are human nature."

I don't believe that a man who has no lustful desires and doesn't know how to appreciate beautiful women can have a persistent pursuit of life and a strong desire to improve himself...

Ten minutes later, the clock upstairs rang eight more times, the "dong dong dong dong" sound echoing continuously in the empty hall.

I couldn't help but chuckle: "This old relic not only keeps accurate time, but it also rings the bell terribly. Shouldn't it be removed and kept as a mere collection?"

The warmth from the fireplace enveloped my face, a comforting and pleasant sensation. Sitting alone by the fire on a cold night, one is most likely to recall Bai Juyi's poem: "Newly brewed wine, green as ants; a small red clay stove, glowing with fire. Evening approaches, the sky threatens snow; shall we share a cup?"

Although he refused Guan Baoling's request, he still felt a slight reluctance to part ways with her.

I sat down in the armchair, the scent of her lingering French perfume still lingering in my nostrils—sweet, with a captivating allure. I truly hoped to keep her here, to talk for a long night; that would surely become a cherished memory of this trip to Hokkaido. I smiled at the bronze statue, my male self-delusion prevailing. I felt I could politely decline her flirtatious smiles, and that this noble sentiment of "a gentleman does not deceive in secret" would become another unique and beautiful memory in her life.

Ten more minutes passed, and Guan Baoling still hadn't appeared. I started to wonder, "What has she been doing for twenty minutes?"

Suddenly, a surge of heat welled up inside me, and I jumped up—"Could it be that he felt he couldn't break the curse on the tycoon and committed suicide in utter despair..." This thought struck me like a thunderbolt from a clear sky, and I rushed toward the bathroom almost without hesitation, pushing my lightness skill to its limit.

I'm sure if there were a camera system installed in this hall, they could capture me moving quickly like a wisp of white smoke—

I don't want a beauty like Guan Baoling to commit suicide, and I certainly can't let her die in my villa. If that happens, I wouldn't be able to explain myself even if I had a hundred mouths.

The bathroom door was ajar. I lightly touched the wall with my hand, and my body immediately froze.

There was no sound from inside the door; there were neither footsteps nor the sound of water.

I took a deep breath and called out softly, "Miss Guan? Are you inside?"

There was no sound, no reply. My nerves tensed up instantly, and my muscles began to clench. I raised my voice and asked, "Miss Guan? Miss Guan? Are you there?"

There was still no response. Without further hesitation, I reached out and pushed the door open. The door opened silently, and a cool breeze blew in, filling my nose and causing an unbearable itch. I sneezed loudly.

There was a breeze, so the windows were naturally open, and my gaze first fell on the back window.

The bathroom was empty, of course, but the back window had a narrow crack, about the width of a fist, through which the north wind blew straight in, carrying a biting chill.

I felt a little relieved, at least I didn't see the horrific scene of wrist-cutting covered in blood. The most common way girls choose to commit suicide is to fill a bathtub with water, lie in it, and die without pain, letting their blood mix with the cold water.

After seeing the situation inside the room, I breathed a sigh of relief and went over to close the window.

"Where did Guan Baoling go?" I wondered, because it was only a dozen steps from the bathroom to the living room, with just one corner, making it impossible for her to have any other hiding place. When she disappeared from my sight, she was heading towards the bathroom, and she didn't reappear within twenty minutes, meaning she couldn't have gone to another room right under my nose.

I left the restroom, shouting, "Miss Guan? Miss Guan? Miss Guan? Where are you?"

The sound echoed in the living room. I hesitated for a moment, then quickly walked towards the stairs. My thinking was that since she wasn't on the first floor, she had probably quietly gone up to the second floor while I was staring blankly at the fireplace. If that was the case, her purpose in coming to the villa was probably not just a simple negotiation, but rather using "beauty and negotiation" as a pretext to commit "theft."

Watanabe Chō and Kwan Po-ling's groups purchased the Xunfuyuan Villa not to further develop the tourism industry, but rather to uncover a great secret or a treasure hidden within the villa...

I was immediately filled with anger. I had always claimed that I was not lustful, but I never expected that I would be so easily captivated by beauty and let Guan Baoling take advantage of me.

In a few quick strides, I rushed up to the dark second floor and forcefully pressed the light switch at the top of the stairs. With a snap, the huge crystal chandelier in the central living room lit up, instantly sweeping away all the darkness.

The doors to the study and bedroom remained open. I suspected the secret was hidden in the study. With so many books, secrets could be hidden anywhere, especially since Guan Baoling, being delicate and frail, couldn't move anything too large and certainly wouldn't dare to act rashly.

"Miss Guan, please come out!"

I shouted at her from the study, hoping she would obediently come out and explain that it was all a misunderstanding. Even if "beautiful woman" equals "thief," I wouldn't harshly accuse her.

Good men are always gentle and polite to beautiful women, and this is a great driving force for social progress.

No one answered, so I pressed the switch by the door, and the light in the study turned on.

"Miss Guan, stop playing hide-and-seek and come out!" I've already been very polite to her.

Entering the study only added to my confusion, as it was completely empty except for the numerous books displayed. Of course, a search of the bedroom yielded no results either.

Up to this point, Guan Baoling was nowhere to be found in the three rooms on the second floor, the lobby on the first floor, or the restroom. She had mysteriously vanished right under my nose—

I took a deep breath, raised my right fist and gently tapped my forehead a few times, silently telling myself, "Calm down, calm down, calm down..."

Since there's no one on the second floor, the key focus should still be in the restroom.

I rushed down the stairs like the wind, paused briefly in front of the fireplace, and looked around. The front door was tightly shut; no one could have come or gone. The living room was completely open, with no corner for anyone to hide in. The only possibility was the bathroom…

The wind on the roof intensified, howling like ghosts and wolves.

A chill ran down my spine. I bent down and pulled out my hunting rifle from under the coffee table. With a click, I cocked it and chambered a bullet. If it was Watanabe's gangsters who suddenly appeared and kidnapped Guan Baoling, they couldn't have gone far. With my martial arts skills and marksmanship, five bullets would be enough to take down the attackers.

Despite being in a state of extreme fear and anxiety, I remained confident that I could withstand any attack from the enemy. Otherwise, I wouldn't have dealt such heavy blows to Nine-Tailed Fox and Golden Wheel Demon this morning.

The crackling of burning firewood echoed through the living room, and sparks flew from the crackling of dry wood in the fireplace. I tiptoed toward the bathroom door, listening intently for any sounds that might come from inside.

The bathroom was very quiet, presumably because the back window was very well sealed; once closed, not a sound of wind could be heard.

I kicked open the bathroom door, held the shotgun level in my right hand, and pointed it at the back window. That was the only way to enter and exit the villa without going through the living room. If the enemy who kidnapped Guan Baoling came out of the window, they couldn't have done so without leaving a trace.

The door slammed against the wall on the left with a loud bang and bounced back sharply, but I had already slipped and leaped toward the back window.

With a bang, the huge rebound force slammed the bathroom door shut.

At this moment, I was already pressed against the back wall. After a slight pause, I raised my left hand to unlock the hidden lock on the window, pulled it sharply, and roared in English at the top of my lungs: "Who's outside? Get out! I'm going to shoot!" All the movements were done in one go, extremely smoothly, and were completely in line with the professional level of the special police force. The muzzle of the gun was also pointed diagonally at the roof, ready to pull the trigger at any time.

There was no one outside, nor could there be, because outside the window was a security grille made of steel bars as thick as a thumb, with the bars spaced less than twenty centimeters apart, extremely sturdy. I should have noticed these details earlier, but as soon as I entered the villa, all my attention was diverted by the inexplicable sound of bubbles, and I completely ignored the security grille.

Such tight security makes it impossible for adults to pass through.

In the distance, the Tower of the Dead was shrouded in darkness, with only occasional glimpses of light emanating from the interconnected temples—distant, ethereal, and eerily silent. The mountain wind whipped at my face without mercy, freezing it numb in just a few minutes.

I closed the window, calmed myself down, and turned to look around the bathroom.

There were very obvious water stains on the sink, probably left by Guan Baoling when she washed her hands. There were also water stains near my feet, probably because she didn't dry her hands properly before coming to the window to open it for fresh air. A person who is extremely depressed should indeed come here for some fresh air, or perhaps she even shed tears here.

"So, what did she do after opening the window? In this cold weather, she should at least feel uncomfortable within a minute of opening the window, like I do, and close it immediately, right?"

I crouched down and saw two rows of footprints left by opposing high heels. The row that came first was complete and clear, with relatively small gaps—a standard model's catwalk. Guan Baoling, during her rise to fame, served as the chief model for a French women's clothing brand for a period; this catwalk is one of the most basic qualities of a model.

The footprints that led away from the window were at least twice as long, and only the balls of her feet touched the ground; the gait was erratic, indicating that she had left them in a state of extreme panic. The footprints extended all the way to the sink, and when I walked over and looked closely at the wall, I was surprised to find two clear handprints of a girl on the mirror, with very obvious water stains on the glass.

"She ran over to the mirror? What was she going to do? Why was she putting her hand on the mirror? Did something appear in the mirror—?"

I slapped my forehead and yelled "Ah!" because I remembered that strange bubbling sound. If it were me, and I heard bubbling sounds coming from inside the room while standing by the window, I would definitely look around and run to the mirror to check.

Especially when I found corresponding handprints on the left and right edges of the mirror, I became even more certain of my idea: "Guan Baoling heard the sound of bubbles and was sure it was behind the mirror, so she wanted to take the mirror off to see what was going on—"

Volume Two: The Tower of the Dead

The first book, The Mysterious Villa

— Chapter 9 - Angel of the Night —

Based on my own experience, I can imagine that anyone who hears the sound of bubbles coming from behind a mirror would be tempted to take it off and see what's going on, even the delicate Guan Baoling would be no exception. However, this mirror was very heavy, and all she could probably do was lift a corner of it to peek inside.

In any case, no one should disappear inexplicably. After all, this villa has been around for many years, and no one has ever disappeared before, nor now, and never in the future. Guan Baoling must be hiding somewhere. What is her intention?

I lifted the bottom left corner of the mirror and looked behind it, only to see a smooth wall; it couldn't be anything else.

In a daze, I felt as if a shadow flashed across the mirror. I quickly focused and looked closely. From this angle, I saw the back window reflected in the mirror.

"What? Am I seeing things?" I looked out the back window in confusion, but couldn't figure it out.

Next, I searched every corner of the two floors, under the sofa, under the bed, under the table, almost anywhere that might have a hiding place, but Guan Baoling disappeared without a trace, as if she had vanished into thin air, without a sound.

Exhausted, I returned to the fireplace, collapsed into the armchair, and tossed the shotgun aside. My stomach was still rumbling, but I had no appetite whatsoever.

Last night I was busy with the sound of bubbles in the fireplace, but today was even more bizarre—a perfectly healthy person vanished right before my eyes…

It's been over two hours since I discovered Guan Baoling was missing. I've been running around the house almost nonstop, and I'm so exhausted that I've drifted off to sleep in that position. I can vaguely hear the crackling and popping of firewood, and my eyes can still feel the blinding light of the lamp, but I'm too weak to move at all.

A strange sound came from the bathroom—the sound of someone landing lightly. Even the most skilled light-footed martial artist in the world cannot be completely silent, especially not with my extremely sensitive ears.

I suddenly became fully awake, but remained motionless.

"Is that Guan Baoling? Where did she hide? What kind of joke is she playing?" Judging from the sound just now, someone fell from a height, probably from the window.

The footsteps were very alert as they left the restroom. I couldn't see in that direction, but I could hear the "swish" sound of their soft-soled cloth shoes hitting the ground.

"It's definitely not Guan Baoling! She must be a master of night walking, and a master from a legitimate sect in the martial arts world, otherwise she wouldn't be wearing such professional-grade soft leather-soled shoes!" I carefully examined the security bars on the back window of the bathroom. The gaps were enough to restrict ordinary people from entering and exiting, but they were no obstacle for a master who had practiced "bone shrinking skills".

The person who came in probably really thought I was fast asleep. After entering the living room, he tiptoed towards the fireplace. When he was about five steps away from me, he suddenly lunged forward, bracing himself on his hands and making a silent, swimming motion as he reached for the hunting rifle I had left at my feet.

The entire process of me springing up took less than a tenth of a second, and I stomped my right foot hard on his outstretched wrist. Regardless of whether he was related to Guan Baoling's disappearance, he would become the target of my anger.

He reacted quickly, abruptly withdrawing his hand and then rolling to the side.

I quickly leaned down, my left leg bending and straightening as I unleashed the authentic Shaolin Northern School "Seventy-Two Style Springing Leg," striking his knee with a resounding thud. The Springing Leg emphasizes "arrow-like force," suitable for short-range combat. The kick I used this morning to knock down Jinlun was also a technique of this.