​​Chapter 172: Phantoms of the Abandoned Village

​Though audiences were long accustomed to Li Zhi’s unorthodox methods in dungeons, witnessing this scene still left them utterly dazzled:

​​[Absolute madwoman!!!]​​
​​[So, Boss Lychee has evolved from making ghosts rage helplessly to now inciting them to fight each other?]​​
​​[Solo dungeons really showcase her full power, huh?]​​
​​[Now I understand why the guide in the rookie dungeon said emotional stability is the most crucial and rarest skill in dungeons. I’d have fainted from terror long ago—how could anyone stay calm enough to exploit each ghost’s weakness and create chaos to escape?!]​​
​​[Lychee’s puzzle-solving is the smoothest. She’s got both combat skills and brains—a perfectly balanced player. I think her strength rivals Xie Qiong’s.]​​
​​[That cry of “Da Qiang” was so heart-wrenching! Even I couldn’t resist it, let alone Liu Daqiang!]​​
​​[ZhiZhi’s popularity is skyrocketing, both inside and outside the dungeon. I can’t wait to see the top players’ reactions when they meet in the safehouse. Too bad we won’t get to watch.]​​

…

If the outside world was buzzing, the dungeon’s live audience was completely stunned by the streamer’s maneuvers.

During her earlier search, Li Zhi had noticed that only Liu Erqiang’s room had an intact wardrobe. Though small, it was more than enough to hide a person.

She shut the wardrobe doors and pressed herself against the back panel. The old wooden closet wasn’t airtight—a gap the width of a pinky finger ran between the doors. Li Zhi used the remaining yellow talismans to seal the top and bottom gaps, leaving only a narrow slit at eye level to peer through.

The chaos downstairs lasted a while before gradually quieting.

The rain that had threatened all day finally began to fall, pattering against the overgrown yard outside.

The storm drowned out other sounds. Li Zhi held her breath, straining to listen.

A flash of lightning lit up the dust-covered window, briefly illuminating the pitch-black room. When Li Zhi’s gaze returned to the slit, the village chief’s family of six stood outside the wardrobe.

Drenched in blood, their faces deathly pale with dark hollowed eyes, they stared unblinking at the closet.

Liu Daqiang stood at the front, a bloody cleaver dangling from his hand. He bent down, his rotting eyeball swelling in Li Zhi’s vision until it pressed against the slit.

“Xuanxuan…” he crooned, his grayish face twisting into a grotesque smile. “Come out, Xuanxuan…”

Li Zhi didn’t move or breathe.

The audience was screaming in terror.

“Xuanxuan, come out…”
“Xuanxuan, hurry out…”

Liu Daqiang kept calling while the others stood behind him, their hollow gazes piercing through the gap as if they could already see the person hiding inside.

Liu Cuimei, standing beside the chief, suddenly tugged Liu Daqiang’s sleeve. “She’s not Zhou Xuan,” she said darkly.

Liu Daqiang turned, and the others’ stiff necks creaked toward her. Liu Cuimei stared at the wardrobe, her voice eerie: “We already scattered Zhou Xuan. She can’t come back. Don’t you remember?”

We already scattered Zhou Xuan.

Only ashes are “scattered.”

Had they burned Zhou Xuan’s body?

No wonder there was no grave for Zhou Xuan in the village. After cremating her, they hadn’t buried her—they’d scattered her remains somewhere.

Liu Cuimei said Zhou Xuan couldn’t return.

Zhou Xuan had hanged herself in a red dress while pregnant—a double death, the worst omen in rural superstition. The Liu family feared her vengeful ghost more than anyone. They knew exactly how monstrous their actions were, so…

They’d made sure she couldn’t even become a ghost.

This family deserved worse than death.

But if Zhou Xuan hadn’t become a vengeful spirit, who was behind the later red-dress massacre cases?

Li Zhi wanted to listen for more clues, but Liu Daqiang flew into a rage at Liu Cuimei’s words. With a snarl, he swung the cleaver at the wardrobe—only to be repelled by the talismans. Howling in frustration, he attacked again.

The entire family surrounded the closet, desperate to drag out the intruder. Liu Erqiang even flattened into a paper figure, slithering under the wardrobe—

A child’s scream erupted beneath Li Zhi’s feet.

Scalded by the talismans, Liu Erqiang scrambled out, wailing on the floor.

Though surrounded, the talismans Li Zhi had pasted on all six sides of the wardrobe held firm. The family seethed but couldn’t break through.

If Li Zhi hadn’t discovered Liu Youcai’s cellar that afternoon and taken these talismans, tonight would have been dire.

After futile attempts, Liu Daqiang flew into a frenzied rage, hacking wildly at the room until the family finally retreated, casting lingering, hateful looks at the wardrobe.

Li Zhi remained motionless and silent.

Eventually, the six figures shuffled out.

Silence returned, broken only by the rain.

Li Zhi still didn’t move. Five minutes later, a rotting eyeball suddenly pressed against the slit—

Liu Cuimei had returned.

Her venomous glare bore into Li Zhi before she finally slammed the wardrobe door in frustration. A talisman’s burn made her shriek, and she vanished for good.

The rain continued. Some time later, Li Zhi heard barking downstairs.

Woof—!
Woof! Woof!

That afternoon, she’d told Liu Xiaoyan to come to the chief’s house at night and have her dog bark three times as a signal.

The girl had actually kept her word.

Li Zhi took out a blank map from her inventory. After murmuring an incantation, the map revealed the terrain within a hundred meters, including all paths around the chief’s house. Only two sets of red footprints appeared—Liu Xiaoyan and her dog.

The chief’s family was nowhere to be seen. After being suppressed for so long, they’d probably gone to take revenge on the villagers who’d killed them.

Li Zhi finally emerged, inspecting the talismans. Most had burned away from the ghosts’ resentment. She pocketed the remaining usable ones and hurried downstairs.

In the rainy gloom stood a thin figure in an oversized men’s shirt and black pants, her hair in braids. The half-headed yellow dog beside her panted, its eyes glowing eerie green in the dark.

Li Zhi paused. “Liu Xiaoyan?”

The girl watched her timidly, her pale face and pitch-black eyes unsettling.

Li Zhi softened her voice. “Xiaoyan, I mean no harm. You came because you trust me, right?”

The dog drooled, its jagged teeth glinting as it eyed Li Zhi hungrily.

Liu Xiaoyan patted its head. “No, Huang.” She looked up at Li Zhi and spoke in a thick rural accent: “I know you’re the sister from outside. You’re not bad.”

She turned. “Follow me.”

Relieved, Li Zhi followed.

As they left the chief’s house, the map updated, revealing other red footprints—phantoms roaming the abandoned village.

The storm made the village even creepier. Several times, Li Zhi nearly collided with the ghosts.

But Liu Xiaoyan knew the paths well. She led Li Zhi through crumbling walls and winding trails, avoiding the spirits until they reached a desolate mountainside beyond the village—likely an old logging or hunting area.

Amidst the weeds and dead trees stood a few crumbling graves, their bones exposed by erosion, glowing with phosphorescence.

At the mountain’s base stood a small wooden hut. Liu Xiaoyan and her dog entered.

Li Zhi followed, shaking off rainwater. The hut was tiny, crammed with rusted tools—probably a resting spot for villagers in the past.

Liu Xiaoyan stood in a corner, stroking her dog’s half-head.

Li Zhi set down her bag, lit some incense, and after a thought, opened her last can of meat for the dog.

The girl and dog perked up at the smell.

The dog sniffed the can, wagging its tail, its gaze on Li Zhi now less ravenous.

Li Zhi spread dry grass on the damp floor and sat cross-legged. After finishing the offerings, Liu Xiaoyan studied her before creeping closer. “Why’d you come to our village?” she whispered.

Li Zhi considered. “I’m looking for Zhou Xuan. Do you know her?”

Liu Xiaoyan nodded, her expression sad. “You won’t find her. My parents killed her. She hanged in our main room.”

“Did she hang herself, or did your parents hang her?”

Liu Xiaoyan shook her head. “I didn’t see. When I got back from the fields, Daqiang had already killed my mom. Sister Xuan was hanging from the beam. Daqiang chased my dad… then my dad saw me and pushed me at him.”

She looked up, her huge eyes eerily calm. “Then I died.”

Li Zhi’s jaw tightened.

In the cellar, Liu Xiaoyan’s mother had claimed the girl threw herself at Liu Daqiang to save her father.

Even in death, they lied. Even in death, they hid their sins.

A father who used his own daughter as a human shield was worse than an animal.

Liu Xiaoyan looked frail and malnourished, her oversized hand-me-downs hanging off her bony frame. The life she must have endured in that family was unimaginable.

“Where’s your grave?” Li Zhi asked gently. “I couldn’t find it in the village.”

Liu Xiaoyan had been killed alongside her grandparents, yet while they’d been suppressed in the cellar, there was no trace of her grave. Had she been burned like Zhou Xuan?

“I don’t have one,” Liu Xiaoyan said softly. “They threw me and Huang in the mountain gully up there.”

In life, she’d been invisible. In death, she was disregarded. The villagers feared her grandparents. They feared Zhou Xuan in her red dress. But they hadn’t feared Liu Xiaoyan—this meek, neglected child.

To them, her young life had been worth no more than a dog’s.

And true to their expectations, Liu Xiaoyan hadn’t become a vengeful spirit. She remained as guileless as in life, trusting this stranger so easily.

Li Zhi reached out, brushing the girl’s hair. Her fingers met only icy Yin energy.

Liu Xiaoyan seemed shy but didn’t pull away. “You’re like those other sisters,” she murmured.

Li Zhi withdrew her hand. “Which sisters?”

Liu Xiaoyan looked up earnestly. “Sister Xuan, Sister Yan, Sister Xu… They all came from outside the village. Pretty outside sisters were always nice to me.”

The trafficked women.

“Were there many sisters like that?”

Liu Xiaoyan nodded. “Lots. When families needed wives, people brought pretty young sisters to the village. My brother was supposed to get one too, but he died. My parents said Daqiang killed him to steal his wife.”

This matched what Li Zhi already knew. But she needed more. “Do you know where Sister Xuan went after she died?”

Liu Xiaoyan shook her head. “By the time Huang and I found our way home, lots of people were already dead.”

“Did Daqiang kill them?”

Liu Xiaoyan lowered her eyes. “I don’t know.”