Chapter 103: The Foreign Object on the Back

Since it was just a modest guesthouse, the facilities and conditions were quite basic. Even the bathroom was communal, and after Xuān Xuān finished showering, there was no hot water left.

Air conditioning? Nonexistent. The room they stayed in was already considered “VIP,” yet all it had was an old electric fan.

At night... oh my, the mosquitoes in the mountains were no exaggeration—they were nearly the size of a one-yuan coin. The autumn mosquitoes were even worse, and mosquito coils barely had any effect.

In short, no one could sleep well. Even when they managed to doze off, they’d wake up drenched in sweat from the heat or bitten by mosquitoes.

Wi-Fi? Forget it. Qī Yán had to sit at the bedside using his own mobile data, with speeds fluctuating between EDGE and 3G—no better than that.

Three grown men crammed into one room. Hào Dàlóng tossed and turned on the adjacent bed, holding a wet towel in one hand and fanning himself with an old magazine in the other, moaning in discomfort.

Qī Yán felt even hotter than him... his body seemed to burn faintly, making him uneasy, though he couldn’t pinpoint why.

His mood calmed down a bit, and after scrolling through his phone for a while, he leaned against the headboard, his mind wandering.

He took out his own Yin talisman and the “Walking Buddha” that Li Ruoké had lent him, playing with them in his hands. Normally, genuine Yin talismans shouldn’t be placed together, but he disregarded this rule.

It had become a habit by now. Whenever it was this quiet, staring at the talismans always sparked wild thoughts.

Countless times before, he had pondered what materials Yin palace talismans were made from. Whether “Mother” or “Blind Spirit,” they were all pitch-black objects, presumably some kind of composite, but dwelling on it too deeply was terrifying.

There was one Yin talisman called “Lù Gě,” made from the corpse of a stillborn fetus within the placenta. Most were tiny, quite petite...

Since he personally sealed the Yin talisman temporarily with a charm tube, he hadn’t had a single nightmare. For a moment, he even felt a little uneasy, as if something was missing from his heart—how pathetic!

As for Yán Bó, he was more straightforward: he simply refused to sleep.

Sitting by the windowsill, constantly smoking, his mood heavy and complex, he was deeply contemplating what to do next in the stillness of the night.

How could they continue to search for the Yin talisman’s owner?

Around past eleven o’clock at night, Qī Yán finally felt a bit sleepy when a sudden rapid knock came at the door.

Yán Bó, still seated by the window, called out, “Who is it?”

“It’s me, open the door... quickly!” It was Xuān Xuān’s voice, urgent and anxious, matching the frantic knocking.

Yán Bó got up and opened the door halfway, mindful that Hào Dàlóng and Qī Yán were already undressed.

“What’s going on?”

“You’d better come see...” Xuān Xuān’s expression was tinged with fear as she urged him on.

The two on the bed were roused by her as well. As Yán Bó followed her out, Hào Dàlóng and Qī Yán slipped on their shoes and followed.

The group crowded into the girls’ room, where they found Dīng Língzǐ lying on the bed. Her sunglasses were surely off, but her eyes remained tightly shut, her face pale and drawn.

Like someone burning with a high fever, one hand pressed to her forehead, her breathing uneven, her cheeks damp with sweat.

“What happened?” Yán Bó asked, moving closer as he took her wrist to feel her pulse.

Xuān Xuān only knew she had been fine not long ago. Both girls had barely fallen asleep, but Dīng Língzǐ was worsening, showing strange symptoms, looking very uncomfortable like this.

“Hss~” Yán Bó checked her pulse and then her neck, his expression growing graver by the minute.

“This is strange... it doesn’t seem like a cold. Xiao Dīng, how do you feel now?”

Dīng Língzǐ shifted slightly, her short breaths accompanied by a murmured, dreamlike voice: “My back... my back feels terrible.”

Back pain? That was even stranger.

“Xuān Xuān, help her check.”

The men all turned away as Xuān Xuān carefully helped Dīng Língzǐ roll over and cautiously lifted her shirt...

“Oh my... my goodness... this is really... something new, huh?” She stammered for a long moment, unable to find a fitting word, and blurted out “new” without thinking.

Yán Bó cursed, “What do you mean ‘new’? What’s going on? Spill it!”

“You... you’d better see for yourselves. Don’t be squeamish—you really need to look with your own eyes!” Xuān Xuān urged them to put aside their reservations and turn back.

Yán Bó, concerned and resolute, didn’t hesitate. He was an elder, and Dīng Língzǐ had been under his care—there was nothing to fear.

But when he fixed his gaze on her back, he was genuinely stunned.

He was a seasoned master of spirit arts, rarely shocked by strange phenomena. The very fact that he was stunned spoke volumes about the severity of the situation.

Dīng Língzǐ’s skin was naturally fair, but now, on the upper part of her back near the neck, there was a large patch of pinkish discoloration.

The most alarming part was beneath her skin: a strange, palm-sized growth.

It wasn’t deeply embedded in the dermis—just beneath the outermost layer, visible as if separated only by a thin membrane, making it distinctly clear.

The growth resembled a spider web or engorged blood vessels spreading outward, but it was denser than any spider web, with no apparent pattern—a tangled, convoluted network.

Only that patch on her back exhibited this, and the crooked, raised veins appeared pitch black, showing as a dark green beneath the skin.

Gently feeling it, the surface was uneven. Yet, they dared not probe further.

Hào Dàlóng glanced discreetly and remarked, “Hmm, what is that? A scar?”

“No...” Xuān Xuān said beside Yán Bó, “It looks like some kind of parasite suddenly attaching itself to her. It must have appeared recently—she’s only been feeling bad for about ten minutes.”

Yán Bó examined her for a long time without a conclusion. Virus? Blood disease? He even ruled out gu and spirit arts techniques—none seemed to fit.

“Xiao Dīng, Xiao Dīng, what does your back feel like?” At times like this, asking the patient directly was best.

Dīng Língzǐ’s spirit was weak; her voice barely audible. “It itches... and it hurts a little.”

“What kind of pain? Is it sharp?”

“No... not very painful, but it feels like... it’s quickly draining my energy... it’s awful.”

Yán Bó wasted no time. Composed, he gave orders: “Qī, go inform the innkeeper. Get some alcohol, gauze, anything useful. Also, bring my backpack. Xuān Xuān, fetch a basin of clean hot water. Dàlóng, hurry outside and see if there’s any vehicle left in the village going back to the county seat—any kind of transport...”

Without hesitation, they all sprang into action at once.