Chapter Twelve: The Nameless Ancient Coffin

  The village inn is located in a remote area, surrounded by farmland, and the nearest household is hundreds of meters away. There are no electric lights or other lighting equipment, so Lao Ba has been relying on kerosene lamps for half a year now. It's like suddenly returning to ancient times. The only flashlight is also reluctant to be used, fearing that the battery will run out, and being anxious about it.

  Actually, this rural public house is just a charity house that has been around for hundreds of years. It's just been converted into an ancestral hall. If it weren't for its majestic appearance, outsiders really wouldn't be able to tell. When I first arrived, the interior was tidy and organized, which put my mind at ease. Later, when I asked around, I found out it was a charity house, and I was so scared that my heart went cold. Fortunately, nothing happened.

  Nan San followed Lao to the county government office, and as soon as he arrived, his eyebrows furrowed. He observed that the building was indeed old, with two stone lions less than half a meter tall in front of the door, and a talisman on the door with an eight-trigram tiger-headed mirror. These two things already indicated that there must be problems inside the county government office. The stone lions were used to dissolve the evil spirits and increase the yang energy, so they were often found in temples. The eight-trigram tiger-headed mirror was used to ward off evil spirits and adjust the feng shui.

  Lao Da Bao had originally planned to take Nan San to see the coffin, but Nan San shook his head and carefully observed the surrounding terrain. When they arrived at the back of the village hall, they discovered a strange phenomenon - in a clump of grass behind the village hall were two wooden sticks wrapped in red cloth bags, a broken pig-killing knife, and a smooth stone with intersecting lines on its surface.

  Seeing this, Nan San hastily told Lao to keep the knife far away, not allowing it to approach within a one-meter range. This made Lao's knife puzzled, asking what was going on. Nan San said seriously: "This is an evil spirit mark, it's where a wrongly killed person died. The stone pattern and the butcher knife are for suppressing this evil spirit. As for the red wooden stick, it's a door-blocking line. Look, doesn't the two ends of the red stick have a thin black thread?"

  Lao Dao took one listen and heard it was a place of death, he got scared and didn't dare to get close, instead he leaned in with the tip of his head, he was nearsighted, how could he see that black line clearly? His voice trembled slightly: "San, I think we should go back?"

  Nan San nodded, counted on his fingers and asked Lao Ba Dao if he had felt a bit suffocated in the chest recently, and if his body felt heavy and cold when sleeping. Lao Ba Dao was taken aback and asked: "How did you know? I haven't been sleeping well lately, is it because of that coffin?"

  Nan San fell into deep thought and didn't respond, instead calling Lao to bring the knife and take a look at that coffin. As they were about to leave, Nan San took a special glance at the ghost needle, quietly tossing a charm into his hand before entering the rural government office. Inside, there were seven rooms, one large hall, and in the back, an abandoned woodshed containing some incense sticks, paper people, and grains of rice, indicating that this rural government office had been inhabited by someone previously.

  As for the coffin, it was placed in a room near the back of the main hall, with an iron chain locked on the door. San touched the lock and found that it weighed several kilograms, so it would be impossible to enter without a key. But Lao Dao shook his head and said: "Originally there was a key, but the person in charge of cultural relics took it away and won't let us in."

  Nan San's mind was filled with doubts, wondering why the house had to be locked up and what secrets the coffin held. Unfortunately, there was no key, so everything was pointless. He could only return to Lao Da Dao's room and wait until nightfall to investigate the singing voice again. Lao Da Dao was delighted that Nan San was staying, and with no worries, he quickly prepared two dishes and some wine to entertain him.

  It was late at night, and Lao Daogun was snoring loudly while Nan San lay beside him with his eyes closed, resting but not sleeping. He listened intently to the sounds outside, but everything was quiet, except for the occasional croaking of frogs. Nan San couldn't help but wonder whether what Lao Daogun had said was true or false, but during the day, he had surveyed the layout of the village inn and knew that something was amiss in this place.

  It was almost midnight, but there was still no movement outside. Nan San couldn't bear the drowsiness and slowly fell into a deep sleep. He didn't know how long he had slept when he felt something unusual happening. Footsteps sounded from outside, followed by the creaking of the door opening. Nan San hastily opened his eyes to find himself in complete darkness - the kerosene lamp on the table had gone out at some point.

  The only sound was the creaking of the open door, a gust of cold wind slapping against the wooden door, making Nan San feel that this wind was somewhat strange. He hurriedly called out to Lao Da Dao softly, but there was no response from Lao Da Dao. He recalled the footsteps he had heard earlier and thought to himself that something was amiss. He then took out a talisman, pinched his fingers together to ignite it, and the darkness was dispelled. Nan San hastily pushed open the door and walked outside, scanning his surroundings. Even with his mastery of magic, it was impossible for him to see clearly in the dark.

  He hastily took out three talismans and recited: "Hui Gai Li Xun, Jin Sheng Huo Wang, Fen."

  But then the three talismans suddenly burned, rushing forward, and in an instant, Nan San saw a shocking scene. Taking advantage of the brief light, Nan San saw Lao Da Dao standing in front of the room where the coffin was placed, his head raised, his hands constantly tearing at the iron chains, with drops of fresh blood flowing from under his fingernails, as if unconscious. Seeing this scene, Nan San did not take action, but instead quietly watched Lao Da Dao's back.

  On his back, there was a blood-red palm print that kept rubbing upwards. Nan San realized that the old butcher knife had been controlled by the little ghost, but unfortunately, he still knew some Taoist skills and didn't even react to the old butcher knife being controlled. He hastily ran forward and cast the Ghost-Calming Seal, and the blood palm print seemed to have anticipated Nan San's ferocity and disappeared without a trace.

  Lost control of the bloody palm print, Lao Ba also woke up with a start, staring blankly around, and in a panic, he lowered his head to glance at his own hands, scaring him so much that his legs went weak and he almost fell to the ground. Nan San hurriedly supported him, saying: "Quickly go burn some firewood, fast!"

  Lao Daozi only felt someone supporting him, and after hearing Nan San's voice, he was terrified and grabbed onto Nan San's long gown, afraid to let go, saying: "How did I end up here?"

  Nan San didn't have time to explain, pulling Lao Ba back a few steps with his knife, urging him to hurry up and get firewood. Holding the Mofa wooden sword, he was about to break open the iron chain door when suddenly, Nan San heard a woman's voice, or rather, a song, mournful and gentle, with a hint of desolation. The song came from inside, his movements paused, not daring to act rashly.

  At this time, the old man also reacted and, after being frightened, did not dare to delay. In the dark, he hastily brought some firewood into the main hall and lit it up, and at the same time lit the kerosene lamps around him, illuminating the rural government office for a while. Under the firelight, Nan San also calmed down, after all, this vigorous fire was just right to dispel some evil spirits, but the singing in his ears still lingered.

  "Nan San, it's this singing voice, listen!" Lao Ba's face turned pale and he trembled as he spoke.

  Nan San nodded, this singing voice was indeed strange. Why was there a woman's singing voice in here? Besides the possibility of ghosts, he couldn't think of any other reason to explain it. So he called out to Lao Da to follow closely behind him, otherwise he feared that they would be invaded by evil spirits at any moment. Nan San looked up and glanced at the sky outside, estimating in his heart that it was probably around 2 o'clock in the morning. This time was when the yin energy was the heaviest.

  In addition to the remote location of this rural inn, the surrounding area is shrouded in a gloomy atmosphere, and San can feel the eerie wind blowing. If it weren't for the stone lion suppressing the evil spirits and the Bagua tiger-headed mirror warding off evil, this place would have been occupied by numerous small ghosts long ago. Even so, there is still a small ghost inside this rural inn, which is the coffin inside the iron chain. San has no idea what's going on with this ghost for now, and the only way to find out is to open it and take a look.

  After thinking for a while, Nan San said to Lao Dao: "Later I will break open this door and see what's going on inside."

  As soon as he heard that the room was to be opened, Lao Ba Dao retreated, saying nothing and refusing to enter. Nan San had no choice but to give him a talisman, and then proceeded forward himself. This time, he didn't use brute force, but instead held an iron chain, closed his eyes, and then slightly exerted his right hand. The iron chain suddenly fell with a clang, causing Lao Ba Dao to be shocked and fearful, casting a look of reverence at Nan San.

  After opening the iron chain, Nan San took a deep breath and pushed open the large door. Under the reflection of the flames outside, an old, broken coffin made of cyan wood was placed in front of him, emitting a strong stench of rot. Nan San furrowed his brow; this smell wasn't from a decaying corpse, but rather from the rotting coffin itself.