Thump.
Another knock-like sound echoed through the air.
There's something next door!
Zhang Yuanqing swiftly swapped his rusty kitchen knife for a rusty dagger and his wooden stick for a long spear.
Gripping his weapons, he darted out of the room with silent steps. The moonlight lay like frost across the silent surroundings.
Crouching low, Zhang Yuanqing crept toward the window.
The paper covering the window had long since rotted away. He crouched beneath it, cautiously raised his head, and peered through a gap in the lattice frame.
The cold, frost-like moonlight streamed through holes in the roof, casting beams of light into the narrow room.
What Zhang Yuanqing saw inside made his heart leap.
In the dimly lit, silent room stood three ancient coffins, their black paint peeling and their lids covered in dust.
Two mummified corpses lay beside the coffins, clad in work uniforms. A brass-colored awl had rolled from the hand of one of the corpses.
The awl caught Zhang Yuanqing's attention. Half an arm's length long, it was cast from brass and engraved with incantations and intricate carvings. The craftsmanship was exquisite, and crucially, while all the other weapons were rusted, this awl remained gleaming, showing no signs of corrosion.
A vision flashed through his mind: the Goddess of Sandaoshan's hand, fingers curled as if grasping something.
But her palm was empty.
Thump.
The muffled sound echoed again, forcing Zhang Yuanqing to shift his gaze to the central coffin.
A teeth-grinding creak filled the air as the coffin lid slowly slid open.
A bluish-black hand emerged, gripping the coffin's edge.
Then, a terrifying figure sat up from within.
Bathed in the pale moonlight streaming through the roof, Zhang Yuanqing clearly saw the creature's appearance: clad in tattered rags, its face bloated and severely decomposed, its lifeless eyes bulging from their sockets.
Its hair, like withered grass, stood in disheveled tufts atop its head.
Hoh-hoh~
The creature tilted its head back toward the moonlight, exhaling a foul, corpse-like breath. Two sharp fangs gleamed menacingly.
Zombie? A Zombie!
Zhang Yuanqing felt his Uncle Ying PTSD flaring up.
So it was a zombie. Yes, it had to be. Otherwise, what was the point of the Corpse Suppressing Talisman, a consumable item? A retreat began to form in Zhang Yuanqing's mind. He had gathered enough information for now.
It was time to return to the Main Hall.
Just then, a sudden weight settled on his shoulder, bringing with it a familiar, bone-chilling cold that seeped into his body, raising goosebumps across his skin.
At this critical moment, the Shoulder-Clinging Vengeful Spirit had arrived.
Fifteen minutes had passed, and Zhang Yuanqing's heart sank.
In this perilous Ancient Temple, where his nerves were stretched taut, it was difficult to spare the mental energy to silently count the time. He had been forced to rely on his instincts, which inevitably led to inaccuracies.
The appearance of the Shoulder-Clinging Vengeful Spirit was like adding frost to snow, and what followed was like pouring oil onto a fire.
As if sensing the presence of a living being, the zombie in the coffin lowered its raised head. Its bulging eyes dropped, fixing on the window, on the eyes peering in from outside.
Amidst the rising tide of goosebumps and terror, Zhang Yuanqing sprang to his feet and bolted.
He had barely turned when he heard the coffin lid crash to the ground with a deafening clang.
Daring not to look back, he fled with heavy steps, the Vengeful Spirit clinging to his shoulder.
Another thunderous clang echoed as the door was smashed open.
As Zhang Yuanqing sprinted, he glanced over his shoulder to see a grotesque figure clad in tattered rags burst from the room. With a ferocious leap, it lunged after him like a starving tiger pouncing on its prey.
Is that a zombie? Where's the stiffness? His face paled as he spun on his heel, using his momentum to complete the turn. He thrust his spear at the zombie's chest.
He slammed the spear's butt into the ground, creating a makeshift barricade.
At the same time, he noticed a gruesome hole in the zombie's chest, as if its heart had been ripped out.
Senior Disciple? The zombie is the Senior Disciple from the notebook!
In the next instant, the zombie charged forward, ignoring the spear. The finger-thick shaft bent like a full moon before snapping with a crack.
Without time to think, Zhang Yuanqing seized the opportunity created by the broken spear. He rolled under the zombie's feet, his nostrils filling with the stench of decay. Behind him, he heard the sound of a heavy blade cleaving into the ground.
He rolled to the zombie's rear, sprang to his feet, and swung his dagger.
Clang!
The dagger struck the zombie's skull like striking steel. Aside from severing a few brittle strands of hair, it inflicted no damage.
Instead, the force of the impact jolted Zhang Yuanqing's hand, sending a searing pain through his palm and nearly dislodging the weapon.
Copper Skin and Iron Bones?
Zhang Yuanqing was terrified. He watched as the zombie spun around, its black, razor-sharp claws reaching out to grip his shoulders.
Pain shot through him instantly.
The claws pierced his skin, crimson blood staining his coat.
The scent of blood seemed to stimulate the creature. A crimson light surged deep within its bulging eyes as it bared its fangs, exhaling a foul-smelling breath before lunging for Zhang Yuanqing's neck.
The candle's purifying effect still held. He didn't lose his composure to fear. With a thought, his fluorescent blue Inventory interface materialized, and a Talisman appeared in his hand.
Thump-thump-thump. The zombie, moments ago a savage beast, recoiled at the sight of the Talisman, retreating as if from venomous snakes.
It works! It fears me! It possesses some intelligence! Zhang Yuanqing gritted his teeth against the pain from the wounds on his arms, tensing his muscles as he stared intently at the zombie. With the Vengeful Spirit clinging to his shoulder, he slowly backed away, step by step.
As he retreated, he prayed the Well Ghost wouldn't surface and complicate matters.
Throughout this ordeal, the zombie emitted chilling, guttural growls from its rotting throat, its crimson eyes fixed on Zhang Yuanqing.
Fortunately, whether due to the zombie's presence or Zhang Yuanqing's backward retreat, the Well Ghost remained hidden. He escaped the East Courtyard and returned to the Courtyard House, not daring to pause for a moment. He stumbled toward the Main Hall, and as he neared the upturned eaves, a phantom, piercing scream echoed in his ears.
The weight on his shoulders lifted, and all negative effects vanished.
Huff... huff...
Inside the Main Hall, Zhang Yuanqing leaned against the lattice door, panting heavily, his legs twitching uncontrollably.
Half of this was due to lingering fear, the other half a physiological reaction to the adrenaline withdrawal.
After resting for a few minutes, the adrenaline subsided, and the wounds on his arms began to throb. Grimacing, he stripped off his jacket and t-shirt, revealing two arms torn to shreds, the blood oozing out a dark, almost blackish red.
Clearly, the Zombie's claws carried a potent poison.
The situation had suddenly turned dire.
There's no disinfectant here, no tetanus shots. How fast does Corpse Poison spread? Am I going to die from poisoning?
A flurry of thoughts raced through Zhang Yuanqing's mind. To his surprise, he found himself remarkably calm. Then he realized it wasn't his own courage, but the Candle's.
Bathed in its warm glow, his emotions gradually settled.
Now that I'm infected with Corpse Poison, I can't afford to delay any longer. Time to execute Plan B.
Before entering the Spirit Realm, Zhang Yuanqing had devised two strategies. Plan A was a cautious exploration of the Mountain God Temple, gathering information, and then seeking a method to break the curse. A steady, methodical approach.
Then, inspired by playing games with his Aunt—observing patterns and finding solutions—he had formulated Plan B, a riskier alternative.
He decided to try to subdue the Red Dancing Shoes.
Since both were items, and he could use the Yellow Paper Talisman, why not the Red Dancing Shoes?
Guan Ya had said that breaking the rules of a Rule Item gave one a chance to subdue it.
"With my current abilities, it's unlikely I could stick the Yellow Paper Talisman to a Zombie's forehead myself."
Trying to affix a Talisman to the forehead of a ferocious, intelligent Yin creature was like a child challenging an adult to a duel with a knife. Though the adult might fear the blade, it didn't mean the child could actually harm them.
Zhang Yuanqing wasted no time. He pushed himself up from the lattice door, stepped over the threshold, and entered the courtyard in front of the Main Hall.
This was where he had first encountered the Red Dancing Shoes.
The full moon hung like a silver platter in the sky, illuminating the ancient mansion, overgrown weeds, and swaying shadows of trees.
He waited and waited, standing for a long time among the weeds, vigilantly watching for any changes in his surroundings. But the Red Dancing Shoes never appeared.
The shoes seemed to lack a fixed territory. They had initially followed him into the temple, then appeared in the Courtyard House, and now their whereabouts were unknown.
Zhang Yuanqing sighed, his body growing weaker with each passing moment. He reluctantly turned to return to the Main Hall.
Just as he turned, his body froze.
Tap-tap...
Between him and the Main Hall, a pair of red dancing shoes glowed with a faint crimson light, rising and falling rhythmically as if worn by an invisible person treading in place.
Footsteps echoed eerily through the empty, silent night.
Can't you make a less terrifying entrance? Zhang Yuanqing thought, his nearly dislodged soul slowly returning to its place. He swallowed nervously.
Despite anticipating its appearance, facing the Red Dancing Shoes still sent his Sanity plummeting uncontrollably.
The shoes continued their rhythmic stamping, heels striking the ground with crisp, echoing taps that grew increasingly lonely and terrifying.
Suddenly, a fluorescent blue message popped into Zhang Yuanqing's vision:
[ Will you dance with me? If so, please step in place. ]
The message appeared beside the Red Dancing Shoes, as if it were speaking directly to him.
So it really wants to dance. Refuse, and it kills you. What a vile pair of shoes. Zhang Yuanqing realized he had no choice but to gamble everything. He noticed the Red Dancing Shoes had cut off his escape route, positioning itself between him and the Main Hall.
Failure to dance meant certain death.
Is this a coincidence? Or did the shoes do this deliberately? Does it even have intelligence? Zhang Yuanqing focused his thoughts, calmed his emotions, and visualized his father's face in his mind.
Simultaneously, he began stepping in place.
The rhythmic tap-tap of his footsteps seemed to activate the Rule Item. With each step, the Red Dancing Shoes shifted their rhythm, launching into a rapid-fire tap dance.
The shoes danced a tap dance, its infectious rhythm and breakneck speed sending loud tap-tap sounds echoing through the silent night sky and the desolate Ancient Temple.
Under the moonlight, amidst the wild grass and on the cobblestone path, the Red Dancing Shoes danced alone, radiating an indescribable, bewitching beauty.
Zhang Yuanqing widened his eyes, letting his pupils absorb the moonlight as he stared intently at the shoes. He didn't need to consciously memorize the steps; he only needed to imprint their movements into his vision.
Simultaneously, his heart pounded like an overloaded engine, his ears rang with chaotic noise, and countless fragmented images flashed through his mind.
His brain began automatically processing external information: the sound of the wind, the subtle sway of the wild grass, the rhythmic rustling of leaves on the distant locust tree, the shoes' tap-dancing posture and tempo.
The brain rapidly analyzed and memorized the incoming data.
After several minutes, the Red Dancing Shoes came to a satisfied halt, their left foot stepping back and rising onto its toe.
The posture looked odd, but if someone were wearing them, it would be a perfect curtsy.
Quite polite, Zhang Yuanqing thought, blood trickling from his nostrils. Then, a sentence materialized above the shoes:
[ Your turn! ]
In just a few minutes, it had danced through hundreds of rhythms, each with unique steps, far exceeding the capacity of ordinary human memory.
Zhang Yuanqing steadied his nerves, pulled a small pill from his pocket, and placed it under his tongue.
His mind entered a peculiar state, replaying the past few minutes frame by frame.
Tap-tap-tap-tap...
He began to dance slowly, awkwardly mimicking a few rhythms before carefully examining the Red Dancing Shoes.
If the requirement was an exact match, even memorizing every rhythm and movement wouldn't guarantee success.
Seeing no reaction, Zhang Yuanqing breathed a sigh of relief and focused entirely on his dance.
Tap-tap, spin, small hops, crossing his feet—he moved slowly, his posture clumsy and unsightly, a stark contrast to the Red Dancing Shoes' fluid, graceful movements.
But the slow pace ensured accuracy.
After seven or eight minutes, Zhang Yuanqing had replicated all the Red Dancing Shoes' steps, stopping with a gasp.
Warm liquid overflowed from his nostrils, trickling down his lips and chin, but he couldn't spare a moment to wipe it away, his eyes fixed on the Red Dancing Shoes.
Whether he lived to leave the Spirit Realm, whether he successfully completed the Trial—
It all came down to this moment.
[ Your dancing skills remain as dreadful as ever! ]
The Red Dancing Shoes displayed this message before transforming into a faint crimson glow and vanishing into the night.
Immediately afterward, Zhang Yuanqing heard a cold, mechanical voice in his mind:
[ Ding! You have accompanied the Red Dancing Shoes in a dance. Congratulations on earning the Red Dancing Shoes' favor! However, due to your abysmal dancing skills, the Red Dancing Shoes will only grant you its favor for half an hour. Best of luck! ]
Zhang Yuanqing collapsed to the ground, utterly drained, his face pale and his brain throbbing in waves of pain.
After half a minute, the symptoms subsided. He sat up, his face still pale, and eagerly opened his Inventory.
In the second slot lay a pair of brand-new, crimson-red dancing shoes.
As he stared at them for a few seconds, the item's information automatically appeared:
[ Name: Red Dancing Shoes ]
[ Type: Footwear ]
[ Function: Tracking, Pursuit ]
[ Description: Its former owner was a princess from a Western kingdom, blessed with natural beauty and exceptional dancing talent. The kingdom's men were captivated by her. But her wicked stepmother, consumed by jealousy of her talent and beauty, imprisoned her in a tall tower. The lonely princess danced alone under the cold moonlight until her death. The Red Dancing Shoes inherited her dying wish, beginning an endless wandering and solitary dance. ]
[ Note 1: Usage Mode 1: Throw the Red Dancing Shoes at a designated target (or lock onto the target using their blood, hair, skin cells, etc.). The shoes will relentlessly pursue the target, ignoring all physical obstacles. There is no escape, no way to destroy them, until the target dies or completes a dance with them. The type of dance is unrestricted. ]
[ Usage Mode 2: Wearing the Red Dancing Shoes grants increased agility, enhanced evasion, terrain-agnostic running, and infinite stamina. However, you can only wear them for five minutes at a time. Exceed this limit, and the shoes will become permanently fused to your feet, forcing you to dance endlessly until your death or the amputation of your legs. ]
[ Note 2: Refuse to dance with me? You'll all die! ]
This is a divine artifact! Zhang Yuanqing exclaimed inwardly, his excitement surging as he finished reading the item description.
So this is a Rule Item?
It's absurdly powerful!
The descriptions for the Yellow Paper Talisman and Candle had been relatively simple, just a few brief sentences. In contrast, the Red Dancing Shoes' item information was a lengthy treatise.
This alone demonstrated the unique nature of the Red Dancing Shoes.
Too bad they only appreciate me for half an hour.
Zhang Yuanqing noticed the countdown timer next to his Inventory and felt a pang of regret.
If he could possess such a divine artifact, it would be invaluable both in the real world and in future Spirit Realm missions.