Chapter 962 928 Reporting the Death
“What time is it now?”
“It’s 3:30 am.”
In the back hall of the ancient mansion, the group had been guarding the red coffin for several hours. Ever since Yang Jian used the firewood knife to dismember an unknown vengeful ghost earlier, the darkness in the mansion had retreated into the corridors on both sides.
And for several hours, the darkness hadn’t returned.
This indicates that the dismembered ghost hasn’t recovered.
Or perhaps, the ghost was scattered and hasn’t found all its pieces, leading to a significant reduction in supernatural power. Now, it’s unable to exert greater influence on this mansion.
The old-fashioned radio still lay abandoned on the floor in the main hall.
Though static occasionally hissed from it, no signal had been received, nor had any eerie voice emerged.
During the first few hours of the night watch, the initial wave of ghost attacks was endured.
Though perilous, no one perished. That was considered good news, but this resistance had nearly consumed the incense stick burning in front of the coffin.
The remaining incense stick had to last five days.
Clearly, it would be impossible to make it to that point. Yang Jian believed the final incense stick would soon burn out.
“We can likely survive tonight. It looks like the mansion has returned to calm, and the ghosts have temporarily retreated. But what should we do on the third day? Since we have some time now, why don’t we discuss it?”
Seeing the situation stabilize, Old Eagle initiated a discussion.
He wanted to plan their next course of action.
This was a logical thought. Anticipating danger and making decisions in advance would prevent panic when the time came.
“The first day was interment, the second day was the night watch, and the third day should be… mourning rites?” Li Yang proposed uncertainly.
“That’s unlikely. In a traditional funeral, the third day should involve notifying acquaintances of the death. After the interment on the first day and the night watch on the second, the third day should be reserved for spreading the news. Mourning rites would come on the fourth day, when relatives and friends receive the news and come to pay tribute to the deceased, viewing the corpse.” Wang Feng explained.
“There’s a notification step? Logically speaking, shouldn’t that happen on the first day?” someone asked.
“In a traditional funeral, could you notify people on the first day? Back then, there were no phones or communication devices. Deaths were sudden, and the focus on the first day was on securing the corpse in the coffin. Family members would watch the body overnight, and then the next day they would notify others.” Wang Feng said confidently.
He had been pondering the funeral process during this time.
“If notification is required, how exactly should we do it? Shout throughout the mansion that someone has died here?”
Wang Feng replied, “Of course, not like that. Notification would typically involve sending out a signal, but I have no idea how to do that.”
“Hold on, there’s movement outside.”
Suddenly, Yang Jian gestured and turned his gaze toward the back door.
The back door was slightly ajar, and through the gap in the wooden door, he could vaguely see a pale white light swaying in the distance, slowly approaching. Once it got closer, he confirmed it was a person carrying a white lantern along the path emerging from the old forest.
“It doesn’t look like a ghost. It seems more like the previously missing Zhou Deng. Yes, it’s Zhou Deng.” Someone else noticed and immediately clenched their teeth, standing up.
“That guy’s still alive?” Fan Xing was surprised.
Earlier, the mansion was shrouded in darkness, brimming with danger. Apart from the safety of the back hall, every other area was extremely life-threatening.
Even Zhou Deng, a supposed team leader, shouldn’t have been able to survive in such an environment.
Crunch!
The back door was pushed open.
Zhou Deng walked into the back hall with feet covered in yellow mud and spoke curiously, “I saw someone inside earlier, so I came over to check. Didn’t expect to find all of you here. Did anything happen earlier?”
“Where did you go before?” Yang Jian scrutinized him and asked.
“Obviously, checking the area nearby to see if there were any dangers,” Zhou Deng replied.
Yang Jian asked, “And what did you find?”
Zhou Deng answered, “This place really isn’t ordinary. In that forest, there’s an old grave that felt off. I burned an incense stick near it and left.”
“The lantern you’re carrying—is it the one from the front door?” Yang Jian observed the familiar lantern.
“It’s dark outside, so I took the lantern for light. That shouldn’t be an issue, right?” Zhou Deng said. “I deliberately looked everywhere earlier and confirmed there’s no other escape route. This mansion is the only place we can stay. I’m planning to check out the front area again.”
Fan Xing immediately retorted, “Stop messing around, Zhou Deng. This place isn’t as simple as you think. The mansion was originally the only safe area. If you cause disruptions and break the balance, you’ll doom all of us. Also, you shouldn’t have taken that incense—it’s very special with mysterious effects and crucial for us.”
“I didn’t notice anything special about that incense,” Zhou Deng frowned.
“Everyone, instead of arguing about the incense, can we confirm whether Zhou Deng came in alone just now?”
Suddenly, someone spoke up, pointing at the footprints on the ground.
The group looked over.
Near the back door, there were scattered footprints of various sizes, some crouched around the door. Suspiciously, the unmoving wooden door was now gently shifting back and forth on its hinges without the influence of wind.
Old Eagle stared at the muddy footprints and remarked, “There’s more than just Zhou Deng’s footprints—there are others mixed in. But don’t you think these muddy footprints resemble the ones we saw on the fourth floor of the Post Office?”
“Now that you mention it, I recall. They likely belong not to the same ghost, but were created in a similar supernatural incident. There seems to be a connection between the Post Office and this place.” Li Yang recalled.
He vividly remembered the footprints from the Post Office’s fourth floor.
“Did a ghost sneak in with Zhou Deng into the back hall? It doesn’t appear to have gone deeper inside but lingered at the entrance repeatedly before vanishing.” Yang Jian’s eyes flickered. He hadn’t noticed anything earlier.
It was simply unbelievable.
“I’ll check outside.” Zhou Deng abruptly grabbed the lantern and walked out the back door.
Standing outside, he looked around: “There’s nothing here. I don’t see anything.”
“Yellow mud merely serves as a medium to expose ghosts, similar to supernatural rain or certain kinds of blood. Now that most of the mud has fallen off, the ghost’s traces naturally fade away.” Yang Jian explained immediately.
“There’s no need to overthink. Even if another ghost appears now, it doesn’t matter. As long as the balance remains intact, ghosts won’t easily invade this mansion.”
The group exchanged surprised looks at Yang Jian.
But upon reflection, his reasoning seemed plausible.
No one could predict how many dangers lurked both inside and outside the mansion. At this point, they couldn’t divert their attention to small supernatural incidents. As long as the ghosts didn’t breach the safety of the back hall, everything else hardly mattered.
“If the ghost followed me from the old forest, then I’ll take responsibility for leading it away.” Zhou Deng said from outside, holding the lantern.
Then he moved toward the mansion’s front entrance. Whether he truly intended to divert the ghost or had other motives was unclear.
“That Zhou Deng is utterly insane. Wandering with a lit lantern—he’s practically courting death. I bet he’ll face a ghost attack tonight. I refuse to believe he’ll keep dodging harm every time.” Someone said, gritting their teeth, clearly displeased with Zhou Deng.
Yang Jian said nothing. As far as he was concerned, as long as Zhou Deng didn’t cause trouble for him, it didn’t matter where he wandered.
At worst, he’d die out there.
Yang Jian’s mission was to deliver a message on the seventh day. Aside from that, he wasn’t interested in anything else.
His goal was to reach the Post Office’s fifth floor.
The mansion’s secrets and supernatural objects could wait.
However, one thing did pique Yang Jian’s interest.
The locked room in the right corridor—what secrets were behind that door?
With the Ghost Cabinet’s key in hand, he could open the door anytime.
But was now the right time?
After all, it was only the second day.
“Better to wait,” Yang Jian thought, suppressing his curiosity.
The hours passed.
At 4:00 am, the mansion’s supposed calm was finally disrupted. The darkness that had receded earlier began to seep back into the corridors flanking the courtyard, creeping steadily into the mansion once more. Accompanying this darkness, supernatural phenomena reemerged.
As expected.
The ghost’s retreat was temporary—caused earlier by Yang Jian’s firewood knife attack.
But the dismemberment’s effect wasn’t permanent. Given time, the ghost would recover and reawaken.
“Shhh, shhhhhh~!”
The eerie old radio in the main hall suddenly crackled again. It seemed to pick up another signal, causing everyone’s hearts to clench.
“Is tonight’s second wave of attacks about to begin?” Yang Jian’s expression shifted slightly as he glanced at the group.
No words were needed.
Everyone braced themselves.
The darkness thickened, and the radio’s static grew louder and clearer.
The supernatural intrusion was rapid.
In mere moments, it had reached the same intensity as before.
The mansion was being engulfed in darkness once more.
This signaled that Yang Jian’s earlier firewood knife attack had lost its effectiveness. All it had done was buy them a short, insignificant window of time.
But the danger wasn’t confined to the main hall.
This time.
After Zhou Deng left, the once-secured back door creaked open slowly, as if pushed by an unseen force.
Outside, the dim light seemed even more oppressive and terrifying. Whether it was an illusion or not, the distant old forest appeared to inch closer, as if countless eerie eyes were peering out from its depths, staring at them. It was impossible to discern whether this was a trick of the mind or that the forest truly harbored such a multitude of unsettling gazes.
“Li Yang, shut the back door.” Yang Jian commanded.
Li Yang instantly walked over and closed the door.
But just as he did—
“Bang!”
The back door flew open again, forcing Li Yang back.
“What the hell is this?” The others stared in shock.
Yang Jian directed, “Don’t hold back. Use supernatural powers—see if you can close it.”
Li Yang’s expression shifted. He immediately used the Door-blocking Ghost’s supernatural power to affect the door.
He tried again to close it.
To his disbelief, an enormous force resisted his effort—as if countless invisible hands pressed against the door, stopping him.
“Creak!”
The old wooden door groaned and barely shut halfway. Despite his best efforts, Li Yang couldn’t close it entirely.
“Captain, this isn’t right.” He growled, panic evident on his face.
“What the hell?” Yang Jian’s face darkened; he was visibly shaken.
The Ghost Door Blocker’s supernatural power couldn’t close the door?
“You can’t expect the two of us to handle this alone. Help Li Yang—if we fail, none of us will survive tonight.” Yang Jian ordered.
He could sense something was off.
The incense was still burning. Based on Old Eagle’s previous findings, the incense should’ve boosted Li Yang’s supernatural powers, making them stronger than before.
What went wrong?
Yang Jian’s unease grew—things seemed to spiral out of control.
Though it wasn’t yet severe, the signs were undeniable.
This was his gut feeling, and he knew it was correct.
“I’ll help,” Old Eagle stepped forward decisively.
Wang Feng glanced at Yang Jian and then joined in as well.
Fan Xing and two other ghost-wielders approached the door, their faces grim, ready to assist.
Using supernatural forces, they resisted the entities pushing from outside and forced the door shut. However, they dared not let go, as they realized something terrifying was exerting pressure from the other side of the door.
Should they loosen their grip, the door would inevitably reopen.
“Shhh, shhhhhh…”
The old radio crackled louder, its eerie noise resonating through the darkness. It once again picked up a signal, this time broadcasting a chilling phrase: “Dead, died, finally dead… heh, heh-heh.”
“The ghost is still active.” Fan Xing stared into the corridor’s encroaching darkness, prepared to act.
“Wait.”
Yang Jian suddenly realized something.
“What’s wrong?” Fan Xing asked. “If we don’t stop the supernatural radio now, it’ll keep summoning more ghosts.”
“Something’s off—the radio’s last words don’t make sense.” Yang Jian said. “It said ‘dead’? Who’s dead? From earlier until now, none of us have died.”
Yang Jian scanned the area.
Everyone was still alive.
Even Yang Xiaohua was standing there holding her red balloon, alive and well.
“There’s only one dead person here, and that’s…” Someone glanced at the red coffin.
Yang Xiaohua trembled as she spoke, “Could it be—that the death news was transmitted? According to your previous deductions, the third day involves reporting the death. If that step is expedited, what happens?”
“Reporting the death? I get it now. It’s Zhou Deng. Earlier, he carried the white lantern outside—that’s how he notified them. That’s why the radio said what it did.” Yang Jian quickly pieced it together.
“The ghosts couldn’t confirm whether the old man here was dead until Zhou Deng left the back hall carrying the white lantern. That effectively ‘announced’ there had been a death here.”
“The problem lies here.”
“The back hall is no longer safe.”
Fan Xing froze for a moment before swearing viciously: “Damn Zhou Deng! He’s caused so much trouble. If he shows up again, I’ll definitely risk my life against him.”
Just as Yang Jian theorized—
The group struggling to hold the back door shut finally faltered after some time. Several members reached their limits, unable to continue channeling ghostly powers, leaving Li Yang to fend for himself, which was woefully insufficient.
The back door swung open once more.
The door was marked with numerous handprints stained with yellow mud, and the ground outside was riddled with chaotic footprints.
And now, at the threshold—
A pair of old, worn black cloth shoes appeared on the doorstep, as though preparing to step inside.
But it wasn’t just the back door.
The darkness from the main hall began seeping into the back hall.
The incense burning in front of the red coffin inexplicably failed to have any effect.
Supernatural forces fully invaded the back hall.
The mansion’s dangers had arrived ahead of schedule.
Source: Webnovel.com, updated by novlove.com