What did you see after entering the village?

At this point, I couldn't help but become curious as well.

Dazhu gulped down a mouthful of the cold noodle soup, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"At first glance, it seems normal: bluestone paths, brick houses, and faded Spring Festival couplets on the walls. But upon closer inspection—"

He suddenly shivered.

"Every household had their doors and windows tightly shut, not even a dog barked, it was pitch black like a ghost village... well, even though it was three in the morning, it felt just like a ghost village!"

"Logically, in places where people live, there should be moss in the corners and dust in the cracks of doors, but that village..."

He suddenly tugged at his collar, revealing bulging veins on his neck: "Like a specimen wrapped in plastic wrap, even the sound of the wind blowing through the eaves is off!"

I frowned: "Something's not right?"

"It's so predictable!"

As he spoke, he grabbed a handful of his hair, picked up his glass in frustration, took a big gulp, and continued.

"I'm not very good at expressing myself. How should I put it? It's a place where people live, but I don't know if you understand, it just feels unnatural, and I feel creeped out all over."

"It's strange, I can't quite put my finger on it! It's just so quiet. Normally, a place where people live shouldn't be this quiet!"

"It's like those experts I've seen on TV before, saying that if the sound level is below a certain decibel, it will make people feel depressed!"

"Well... how should I put it? You can clearly see the couplets on the doors and windows, and the clothes racks on the walls, but every brick and every tile in this village has a 'fake' feel to it!"

He suddenly slammed his rough palm on the table: "Have you ever smelled a newly renovated house? The formaldehyde smell is so strong it makes you dizzy, but even the air in this village is fake! That's right, that's what I mean, it's all fake!"

As we were talking, I noticed that Dazhu's pupils suddenly contracted as he stared at the corner of the wall behind me.

"And what's even stranger is that the characters on those Spring Festival couplets, from a distance they look like auspicious words, but up close, the last stroke of each character trails off with a blood-red tail, like... like blood licked on with a tongue!"

I frowned: "Old Zhou didn't say what happened?"

"He went straight to someone's door and knocked on it!"

Dazhu imitated the action of banging on the door: "The door creaked open a crack, first a fragrance of perfume wafted out, then a woman's face peeked out."

He suddenly swallowed hard: "Master Chen, have you ever seen a fox spirit in human form? That woman had upturned eyes and lips as red as if she had eaten someone. She looked to be in her thirties, but she looked like a seventeen or eighteen-year-old girl. She was so alluring that it made your bones melt."

"She wasn't wearing traditional clothing?" I noticed his clenched fist.

"She's wearing red silk pajamas!"

Dazhu's ears turned bright red, and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as if an egg was stuck in them.

"My legs were trembling, but my eyelids just wouldn't leave that woman's red lips. Isn't that weird? She didn't do anything, but my mind was filled with honey, and I just wanted to get closer to her..."

Old Zhou kicked me in the butt, laughing and scolding, "This is your sister-in-law's room, what are you doing getting involved!"

As he spoke, he deliberately lowered his voice and glanced around furtively, as if afraid of being discovered.

This reminds me of the fox I just saw.

I suddenly pressed down on Dazhu's trembling hand: "Wait."

"W-what's wrong?"

His muscles tensed instantly.

"Don't rush to speak."

I raised my hand to stop Dazhu's trembling narration and pulled out a tin box with faded talisman paper pasted on it from my canvas bag.

Dazhu stared wide-eyed as I unscrewed the lid.

Inside lay a wolf-hair brush wrapped in red rope, its tip still bearing dark red, dried marks.

"What is this...?"

Before he could finish speaking, I had already bitten my index finger open with my teeth, and blood dripped onto the character "镇" (zhen, meaning town) engraved on the pen.

The sweet, pungent smell of blood mingled with the muttony odor of the restaurant, and Dazhu abruptly covered his mouth and nose, shrinking back.

As I opened the carved wooden door of the private room, the proprietress was passing by carrying a steaming bowl of mutton offal soup.

"Sir, would you like to order more food?"

She squinted and looked us over.

"No more food, ma'am. No matter what noise you hear, don't let anyone near this room."

As I spoke, I stuffed three crumpled hundred-yuan bills into her greasy palm.

The proprietress's expression froze instantly, and she looked us up and down as if she had swallowed a fly.

Especially when he caught sight of the two wooden stools huddled together in the private room, he gave a meaningful smirk: "I said, you two..."

"Please don't overthink it."

I was speechless. I took out three hundred-yuan bills and slapped them on her oil-stained apron.

Her expression instantly shifted from suspicion to understanding, a knowing smile playing on her lips: "I understand, I understand! Men, there are some private matters they can't handle..."

"It's not what you think!"

Before I could finish speaking, she waved her hand dismissively: "Oh, I've been in this business for decades, what haven't I seen? Don't worry!"

He then shouted at the top of his lungs toward the lobby, "Er Gouzi! Come and guard the private room!"

The waiter, who was wiping the table, slipped and dropped the rag into the bucket.

He hunched over and ran over.

The proprietress, quick as a flash, kicked him: "What treasure are you hiding?"

The boy blushed and remained silent.

"This child has been clever since he was little."

The proprietress patted him on the shoulder and winked at me: "You two go ahead and do whatever you want. With him here, I guarantee no one will ruin your good business!"

I opened my mouth to explain, but she had already swayed away, humming a little tune.

The waiter stood at the door, looking at us like we were monkeys in a zoo.

Dazhu, his face flushed, leaned closer and whispered, "Did she...did she misunderstand us...?"

"Never mind it."

I closed the door and heard the proprietress gossiping to a customer outside: "These young people nowadays—oh, no, people of this age, they make such a fuss about eating out..."

I shook my head helplessly.

When the door closed again, Dazhu was already drenched in sweat.

I used my fingertips dipped in blood to draw "proof signs" on the doors and windows.

The cinnabar turned golden upon contact with blood, outlining lotus-shaped patterns on the door frame.

Seeing Dazhu's curiosity, I explained, "This is a 'closing yin ear talisman,' which allows sounds from the mortal world to enter, but blocks the transmission of sounds from yin objects."

Dazhu stared wide-eyed as I pointed the word "listen" into the center of the rune with the tip of my sword: "You...you're using a secret technique from Maoshan?"

"No, this is the Fu lineage of Chenzhou in western Hunan."

I flicked the blood droplets from the tip of my pen: "Want to learn? You must first purify yourself for seven days, abstain from grains, and use the blood of a virgin as a catalyst. Can you do that? Besides, you're not a virgin, so you can't learn it!"

Dazhu immediately shook his head, his rough hands rubbing together with a "rustling" sound: "I... I just want to... Master Chen, could you draw a talisman on me? I keep feeling like someone is breathing on my back!"

I hesitated for a moment, then took out an oil paper package from my backpack.

“Talismans cannot be drawn on living people, but they can be made into ‘evil-repelling sachets’.”