Chapter Seventy-Two: If Found, Their Tongues Will Be Cut Out

“Not good!”

Lin Jianyuan’s heart was thrown into chaos. She forced her eyes shut, refusing to look upon that bizarre scene any longer.

The glass palace lantern had already slipped from her sleeve. Her fingertips trembled as she fumbled in panic, searching for the three-petal iris mechanism and hastily twisting it.

With a soft whoosh, the milky white flame inside the lamp flared up once more. Wherever the gentle light touched, the room’s chill and sinister miasma faded just a little.

Yet the soft glow seemed powerless to dispel the cold seeping through her heart.

She opened her eyes, gasping for breath, taking in the inn’s lobby that had reverted from a maze of bloody flesh to its former state. Hurriedly, she reached into her pocket for the familiar oiled-paper packet, unwrapped it with shaking fingers, and tipped a few cubes of sugar into her mouth.

As sweetness melted across her tongue, her mind finally returned to her. Even so, her delicate, oval face remained pale as snow, cold sweat beading at her brow, and her doe-like eyes still haunted by lingering terror.

“Commander!”

“Commander Lin, are you all right?”

Ling Jue and several Demon Suppression Division guards, seeing her state, hurried forward, concern etched on every face.

Shangguan Chuci’s elegant brows also furrowed. Though she hadn’t witnessed the horrors inside the woodshed, one look at the girl’s expression told her the ordeal had been no ordinary one.

She flicked open her white jade folding fan and stepped forward, asking gently, “Commander Lin, did you notice anything amiss?”

Surrounded by her colleagues, Lin Jianyuan realized belatedly that she’d lost her composure. Her face flushed a deep crimson, the heat rising all the way to her ears as shame and embarrassment warred within her heart. She thought, flustered:

“So many are watching—how disgraceful, to show this side of myself in front of the Demon Suppression Division…”

She bit her lip, inwardly torn between duty and fear.

“That puppet… it was so strange, insisting on playing hide-and-seek with me. What does it mean? If I refuse, what will happen? And if I accept, the danger will surely be greater…”

“But it’s clearly hiding in that woodshed. If I don’t speak up, isn’t that neglecting my duty? The safety of Zhenhai River’s people could rest on my decision…”

Her thoughts twisted and turned, but in the end, the sense of duty instilled by the Demon Suppression Division prevailed.

She drew a steadying breath, forced herself calm, and lifted her head, ready to recount all she’d seen and heard, her voice trembling:

“I… I saw—”

But before the words left her lips, her surroundings changed in an instant.

Ling Jue and his ever-stoic guards, who had just shown such concern, now wore the same chilling, unnatural smile—all at the exact same moment!

Their smiles were stiff, exaggerated, their mouths stretched wide—as if painted on, identical to the puppet’s mocking grin.

Especially Ling Jue, whose stern face twisted into a grinning mask as he spoke, his voice overlapping with countless childish, high-pitched tones:

“If I find you… I’ll have to cut out your tongue.”

“Mm!”

A deafening buzz filled Lin Jianyuan’s mind, blanking everything. An indescribable terror swept through her. Instinctively, she clapped her small hand over her mouth, pain spiking at the root of her tongue as if invisible scissors pressed there, snapping open and shut with a chilling snick-snick.

In that instant, the illusion vanished. Ling Jue and the others were once more their anxious, concerned selves—nothing strange about them at all.

“Commander Lin, what’s wrong?!”

Ling Jue, seeing her sudden change, grew even more worried and reached out to steady her.

“Don’t—don’t come near!”

Lin Jianyuan shrieked as if bitten by a viper, stumbling backward, nearly tripping in her haste. Her terrified gaze darted over her colleagues, as if they might turn into vengeful wraiths at any moment.

Shangguan Chuci’s heart tightened at the sight.

She realized the girl must have fallen prey to the entity’s sorcery—a potent attack on her very soul. At that, she summoned the fire of logic within her mind’s eye.

Bathed in that inner flame, she finally saw the truth—

Lin Jianyuan’s delicate face, twisted by fear, now bore two blood-thin cracks at the corners of her mouth—identical to the ones on the puppet’s face.

“Not good!” Shangguan Chuci was alarmed. “That evil thing can harm and corrupt from afar—if this continues, the girl will be turned into a puppet herself!”

Without hesitation, she darted forward, blocking Lin Jianyuan from the others, her white jade fan raised defensively as she said in a low voice:

“Wait! Commander Lin has suffered a backlash from the entity during her investigation—her mind is not clear.”

“In my opinion, with this malign presence still lingering, it’s too dangerous for her to stay. Let’s return her to the Division and seek an exorcism.”

As she spoke, she felt a gentle tug at her sleeve.

Glancing down, she saw Lin Jianyuan clutching her clothes as if clinging to a lifeline, trembling all over.

Ling Jue, no fool, recognized the gravity of the situation and nodded at once. “Young Master Chu is right. We’ll escort the commander back immediately.”

He glanced at Lin Jianyuan, still dazed, then at Shangguan Chuci, who shielded her, and finally clasped his hands in a gesture of respect.

“However, this case is of utmost importance. Since Qian Dahai died here, may I trouble Young Master Chu to accompany us for a full statement of what you witnessed that night?”

Shangguan Chuci thought to herself, “Perfect.”

She had worried the Demon Suppression Division’s investigation might lead to Lu Chenyuan. Now, with this excuse to lead them away, it was all to her advantage.

She sighed quietly, face showing a trace of resignation. “Very well. I’ll accompany you to the Division.”

Inside the woodshed, Lu Chenyuan held his breath, listening intently.

He heard the clatter of armor and the measured steps of official boots in the inn’s front hall gradually recede into silence.

He mused, “The Demon Suppression Division arrived with such force—strange that they left so quickly, all sound and fury, signifying nothing.”

When all was finally quiet, his eyes flashed. He reached into his robe, drew out the puppet, and set it on the pallet.

The doll’s face remained childishly innocent, but its painted eyes, catching the dim light through the window, seemed to flicker with sinister energy, disturbingly unnatural.

Lu Chenyuan gazed at it and spoke as if pondering aloud:

“The Division’s sudden retreat—was it your doing?”

The puppet was silent, as insensible as a block of wood.

Lu Chenyuan was unfazed. He knew this thing was no ordinary object. “You’ve helped me evade a search—I owe you for that. But what do you seek in return?”

He waited, hoping for some sign from the sinister thing.

But the woodshed was utterly silent, save for the mournful wailing of the wind outside.

Seeing no response, Lu Chenyuan frowned, his suspicions growing. He was about to probe further when, all at once, faint rustling from the backyard reached his ears, followed by the soft creak of roof tiles underfoot.

“That sound… could someone be climbing over the back wall?”