Secrets of the Secondhand Shop - Chapter 7

To make a deal with the Devil, you must play by the Devil’s rules.

I drove while Bai Yue kept an eye on Chen Xiaocheng. According to Bai Yue, this woman’s crimes went beyond framing others with such a dangerous object. She was also responsible for Zhao Jinsong’s death. Bai Yue explained that while inspecting the room, he discovered Ghost Talismans carved into the bed frame. Ordinary people wouldn’t recognize their purpose, and even Bai Yue took a moment to decipher them. Since knowledge of the Soul-Devouring Talisman was rare, and the practice had been banned for over a century, Bai Yue never expected to encounter such a thing. As the name suggests, the Soul-Devouring Talisman is a dark magic that consumes human souls. The ritual binds a living person’s body to the talisman, creating a narrow fissure to the Netherworld. This fissure continuously devours the soul until it’s completely dragged into Hell. This method is particularly insidious because the narrow fissure causes a gradual death rather than a sudden one. The victim’s lifespan slowly dwindles until the appointed time, when Hell’s soldiers arrive to collect their soul.

After using Soul Devour, there’s a forbidden act: Spirit Communication. Spirit Communication serves as a nexus between the Netherworld and the Living World, and Soul Devour is a twisted variation of this nexus. However, Spirit Communication allows two-way traffic between the realms, a connection that can be opened and closed at will. Soul Devour, on the other hand, is a one-way path from the Living World to the Netherworld. Once opened, this fissure remains until the person dies. Because Bai Yue carelessly used Spirit Communication, the fissure widened into a gaping hole, acting like a black hole that instantly devoured any soul that came into contact with it. My Lifespan vanished in an instant, leading Bai Yue to predict I wouldn’t survive the night.

Originally, Zhao Jinsong should have died swiftly after being subjected to this method. But the man proved to be no pushover. When his Lifespan expired, he wasn’t claimed by the Netherworld; he escaped. Though the means remained unknown, Bai Yue speculated Zhao Jinsong must have been a scoundrel in life, someone the Netherworld’s minions couldn’t subdue, allowing him to slip through their grasp.

Remembering the perverted man’s pliers torturing me, I couldn’t help but agree.

As these thoughts swirled, I glanced at the rearview mirror. The woman appeared so innocent, yet her heart harbored such cruelty. A wave of melancholy washed over me. I’d seen the medicine bottles; Zhao Jinsong should have died soon enough. Why resort to such a reckless method?

“Little Boss, you’re truly resourceful. How did you manage to find me?” Chen Xiaocheng asked, a hint of amusement in her eyes as she caught me watching her in the rearview mirror.

“Heh, that’s a trade secret,” I replied, mimicking Bai Yue’s evasiveness. We had found a business card at Zhao Jinsong’s rented apartment, belonging to a director named Zeng Yunxiang. Initially, I hadn’t paid much attention to it, but when Bai Yue flipped it over, my eyes lit up. Scrawled on the back was: “Chen Xiaocheng 13810109824.”

Chen Xiaocheng.

Chen Xiaocheng.

We searched high and low, only to stumble upon it effortlessly.

So, that was the woman’s name.

Bai Yue and I put our heads together. Since her name was written on the back of Zeng Yunxiang’s card, they were likely acquainted. Desperate, we decided to pretend to be President Zeng’s secretary and call Chen Xiaocheng, claiming he wanted to meet her. To our surprise, it worked! Not only did she recognize President Zeng, but their connection seemed far more intimate than mere acquaintance.

Suddenly, a voice echoed in my mind: “There’s no time left… no time left…”

Right, Zhao Jinsong had said those words. What exactly was he running out of time for? Was that why Chen Xiaocheng had accelerated his death?

“What did Zhao Jinsong mean when he said there was no time left?” I asked.

Chen Xiaocheng scoffed. She raised her left hand, a dazzling diamond ring adorning her middle finger. “I’m getting married next week. He didn’t want me to marry Zeng Yunxiang, so he tried to stop us. How did you find me so quickly?”

“Damn it! This is murder! I’m being too lenient by not settling the score with you. How dare you act so arrogant?”

“Heh, blame yourself. If you hadn’t been so greedy, you wouldn’t be in this mess,” Chen Xiaocheng retorted, her eyes still retaining a pitiful, vulnerable quality even as she spoke such cruel words.

“That’s twisted logic. I’m a businessman… Forget it, I’m done arguing with you.” I couldn’t be bothered with this woman. She looked beautiful and charming, but her words could drive anyone insane.

The rest of the drive passed in silence. I focused on driving, and we soon arrived at Zhao Jinsong’s residence. Earlier that day, Bai Yue had given the landlady five thousand yuan, instructing her to have all the tenants, including herself, stay elsewhere for the night. I worried that the sum might be excessive, but Bai Yue countered that five thousand yuan was a small price to pay for saving a life. With that in mind, I stopped dwelling on it.

“Lie down on the bed,” Bai Yue instructed Chen Xiaocheng.

“Wait a minute. First, you need to explain what you want me to do. If it’s going to cost me my life right now, I refuse. We might as well die together—at least I’ll have company. I’m not going to die alone just to make things easier for you,” Chen Xiaocheng retorted warily.

This woman was indeed proving difficult.

“If you cooperate, you have a good chance of surviving. Even in the worst-case scenario, you’ll die after him. If you refuse, your death is certain. Under the influence of the Nether Talisman, the hosts of the talisman will die in chronological order. You’ll die before him,” Bai Yue said, gesturing toward the bed without elaborating further.

Chen Xiaocheng glared at Bai Yue for a few seconds. Clearly a shrewd calculator, she quickly weighed her options. Though reluctant, she reluctantly lay down.

Bai Yue placed candles around the bed, then took out a red string. He tied one end to Chen Xiaocheng’s wrist and the other to his own, then lay down beside her.

“Remember, when you see Zhao Jinsong, I don’t care how you do it, you have to get him to the courtyard,” Bai Yue instructed.

“Where’s the courtyard?”

Bai Yue tugged on the red string. “Follow this. Only the living can see it.”

He turned to me. “Guard these candles. Don’t let them go out. We can only return to the Living World if they all stay lit.”

“Okay, no problem,” I replied. Keeping a few candles lit seemed like an easy task—just be careful.

“If some go out, relight them immediately. Don’t let them all go out. If they do, we’ll get lost over there.”

Just when I thought Bai Yue was finished, he added, “One more thing.”

He pointed to the ceiling. “Don’t turn on the lights. No matter what happens, don’t turn on the lights.”

I nodded. Before they fell asleep, I warned Bai Yue that Zhao Jinsong didn’t play by the rules and wasn’t someone to be trifled with.

As soon as I finished speaking, Chen Xiaocheng gave a strange smile. “Little Boss, don’t worry. Jing Song might be tough to deal with, but neither your friend nor I are exactly innocent lambs, are we?”

Bai Yue didn’t respond. He simply lay down, closed his eyes, and instantly fell asleep. In that instant, Chen Xiaocheng also drifted off. Suddenly, the room fell silent. The entire house was dark, except for this bedroom, which was illuminated by a sea of candles. The sight of a sleeping couple amidst the flickering flames was undeniably eerie.

I checked the doors and windows, ensuring they were tightly secured. To prevent anyone from the opposite building from noticing the bizarre candlelit scene, I drew the curtains. With these precautions in place, I figured guarding the circle of candles shouldn’t be too difficult.

It was eleven o’clock, an hour before midnight. My life hung in the balance during this final hour. With nothing else to do, I pulled out my phone and began drafting a will—better safe than sorry.

The bedroom faced east-west, with the bed positioned north-south. I sat at the foot of the bed, leaning against the wall, giving me a clear view of the entire room. Whether danger came from the door or the window, I could see it coming. As soon as I settled in and leaned my head against the wall, the sound felt wrong. I turned and tapped the spot where my head rested, then tapped other parts of the wall. It sounded hollow.

This wall, separating the bedroom from the living room, didn’t seem to be load-bearing. It looked like someone had tampered with it, hiding something inside. It couldn’t have been the Landlady; no one would hide something they wanted to keep secret in a tenant’s room. Originally, this wasn’t particularly important to me, but since I was bored, I decided to pry it open and see what was hidden inside.

I slipped my phone into my pocket and tapped the wall. The hollow section was a full meter square, which only deepened my curiosity. I pulled out a key and ran it along the edges of the hollow area. Sure enough, I could pry a gap open.

At first, I hadn’t paid much attention to the room. Now, I noticed that the paint in this area was remarkably fresh, as if it had been applied recently. Moreover, the paint along the edges of the square was thick, as if it had been repeatedly applied. This square had clearly been opened more than once. I followed the gap I’d created with my fingers and found a particularly soft spot at the bottom of the square. With a little pressure, the soft spot caved in, just enough to fit a finger. I inserted my index finger and pried the square panel loose. It was a piece of plywood. I set it aside, and when I saw what was hidden behind it, I couldn’t help but gasp in surprise.

Within the one-meter-square wall hung an array of sharp pliers of various sizes. I surmised this was Zhao Jinsong’s hiding place, as I had seen him use similar pliers as murder weapons when I first encountered him.

Would he actually use these iron pliers to harm people in real life?

I took down a pair and squeezed them. Snap! A chill ran down my spine. At that moment, a gust of eerie wind swept through the room, extinguishing most of the candles.

I cursed inwardly and hastily pulled out my lighter to relight them. Not a moment’s peace! Of all times, the lighter refused to ignite. I tossed it aside and grabbed a lit candle, intending to use it to relight the others. But just then, another inexplicable gust of wind blew through, causing the remaining candles to flicker and die.

The doors and windows were tightly shut. Where was this demonic wind coming from? The hair on my neck stood on end.

The candle in my hand was the only light left in the room. The darkness had deepened, obscuring the two figures lying on the bed. It felt as if something lurked within this oppressive darkness, though I couldn’t make out what it was.

Bai Yue’s words echoed in my mind: “If all the candles go out, they won’t be able to return.” Clutching the candle in my left hand, I shielded the flame with my right, terrified that this last lifeline would be snatched away by the eerie wind. A deathly silence descended with the darkness, my ragged breathing only amplifying the horror.

Just my luck! Bai Yue had warned me repeatedly to protect the candles, yet now only one remained lit.

But that wasn’t the worst of it. A far more sinister discovery sent shivers down my spine—a new shadow had appeared on the wall.

The figure stood hunched behind me, its head leaning toward my shoulder, lips pursed as if about to blow out the candle in my arms.

Goddamn it!

Clutching the candle tightly in my left hand, I held my body still, glancing sideways at the shadow on the wall. My right hand clenched into a fist, elbow bent, and I swiftly swung it backward toward the shadow’s head. But in that instant, the candle went out, plunging the room into darkness, and my fist struck only air.

If I hadn’t drawn the curtains earlier, perhaps some light from outside would have illuminated the bedroom. Now, it was pitch black—I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. A cold dread washed over me; I feared I’d been outmaneuvered. Yet basic rationality remained. The moment the candle died, I lunged forward instinctively, throwing myself away from my original position.

No sooner had I moved than something brushed past the back of my head with a whoosh, followed by a gust of icy wind. Though I couldn’t see what it was, I knew it couldn’t be good. Thank God my reflexes hadn’t dulled; otherwise, those few seconds would have sent me straight to King Yama.

I dared not linger. If that person followed, we’d both be shrouded in darkness, likely resorting to indiscriminate attacks. This darkness had become both his and my shield.

We had thoroughly checked the room when we first entered, confirming that no one else was present. So how could another person suddenly appear? The thought sent shivers down my spine. I had been standing at the foot of the bed when the shadow attacked. I lunged forward, reaching the door in an instant. Without pausing, I tiptoed lightly back onto the bed, intending to circle around to the window and yank open the curtains. I wanted to flood the room with light and face this thing head-on.

The candle had already been extinguished, a fact I couldn’t change. Though I felt guilty toward Bai Yue, I couldn’t afford to hesitate now. I’ve always been decisive. From the moment the shadow blew out the candle to when I dodged and leaped to the window, no more than five seconds could have passed. I grabbed the curtains and yanked them open with a loud whoosh.

The city’s nocturnal glow spilled into the bedroom. Though dim, it instantly illuminated the room’s contours, bringing every detail into sharp focus.

Apart from me and the two figures on the bed, there was no fourth person in the room.

I stood by the window, my back against the bed, vigilantly scanning the room. There was genuinely nothing amiss. My gaze drifted to the space beneath the bed. Could the intruder have hidden there?

Damn it, I should have searched under the bed and in the closet thoroughly. Maybe he was hiding under the bed from the start, waiting for me to let my guard down before sneaking out. But one thing didn’t make sense: why would he try to stop us from “killing” Zhao Jinsong again? What business was it of his? Or could this actually be Zhao Jinsong’s ghost, trying to prevent us from killing him?

I honestly hoped the latter was true. If it were, things would be straightforward. But if it was the former, Bai Yue and I might have crossed someone’s path and were likely in trouble.

The phrase “Murphy’s Law” flashed through my mind again. Come to think of it, ghosts are said to have no shadows, but that candle-blowing thing did have a shadow. The chances of it being a ghost were slim. This time, things truly looked grim.

I wasn’t afraid of ghosts that scared people; I was afraid of people who ate people.

As I pondered this, my gaze swept across the wall at the foot of the bed, and my nerves tightened. The pile of iron pliers that had been hidden behind the wall had vanished as if they’d been spirited away.