Chapter 8 Ghost Coffin at Sunset

At this moment, Qi Tiezui was cold all over and felt as if time had stopped as he watched the child slowly put his hand into the whistle hole. Soon, the child’s whole arm was inside, and an unexpected mist formed as the alcohol on his body quickly evaporated due to the rapid rise in body temperature.

Nobody was making a sound, and even Qi Tiezui didn’t dare breathe as the sweat on his hands soaked into the hemp rope holding the gong.

He was just thinking that these few minutes had felt like hours, when suddenly, the child’s face changed.

He seemed to have touched something.

He immediately started trembling and looked to Zhang Qishan, who stood up and fixed his gaze on him. The child began to sign something with the fingers of his other hand, but Zhang Qishan immediately shook his head. Although the child turned pale and looked very scared, he never took his hand out.

Qi Tiezui’s heart almost leaped out of his chest. He kept praying and hoping that it was a false alarm, but now it appeared that his theory was correct and there was actually something strange in the coffin. But he didn’t understand the Zhang family’s sign language, so he didn’t know what exactly the child had touched.

He had heard Fo Ye say several times before that the training the Zhang children had undergone in the northeast was very strict, and most of the children’s happiness, anger, sorrow, and joy had been trained out of them. Although the generation born in Changsha had received the same rigorous training, it was said that their temperament was much weaker.

Qi Tiezui could read people’s faces, and knew in a single glance that Fo Ye never spoke without holding something back, but he should still have some sort of feeling towards children. But Qi Tiezui thought that children ought to be weak. If a child had to be calm from an early age, their life would truly be miserable and they wouldn’t even know it.

He had heard that the Zhang family— even the so-called weak children—were fierce on the battlefield, so even though this child was young, he definitely wasn’t a pushover.

As Zhang Qishan watched the child continue signaling with his fingers, his face darkened and he made a gesture that even Qi Tiezui could understand—take your hand out. The child trembled but showed a stubborn expression, seemingly wanting to continue.

Qi Tiezui’s mind was spinning and he asked himself, what in the world are you talking about? What creepy thing did you touch? Whatever it was, it made this child extremely afraid, but when Zhang Qishan told him to pull his hand out so he could take his place, the child didn’t want Fo Ye to take the risk.

Just as Qi Tiezui was thinking this, the child suddenly jerked and cried out. Then, his whole shoulder sank into the whistle hole as if he were being dragged in by a powerful force. He pressed the coffin with his other hand and tried to pull his hand out, but the thing in the coffin was so powerful that there wasn’t anything he could do. In an instant, half his shoulder was dragged in, and the sound of bones and joints popping could be heard.

The severe pain made this soldier cry out, and Zhang Qishan quickly jumped to the outer coffin, gripped the child’s neck, and pulled with all his strength, causing the veins in his arm to bulge. He managed to pull the child’s arm half a foot out and saw that a red rash was crawling up towards the child’s shoulder. Zhang Qishan shouted: “Fortune teller!”

Qi Tiezui, who had been completely frozen by this scene, was frightened by the loud shout. The gong in his hand fell to the ground with a loud crash, and the horse next to him lifted its feet and ran forward. For a short moment, Qi Tiezui’s vision went white and all he could hear was the crisp sound of the pipa shear’s blades closing and the child’s heart-wrenching screams.

The sound of the gong kept ringing in his ears, and after his vision cleared, he saw that there was blood all over the outer coffin and medics were rushing up. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he almost fainted.

“Ba Ye!” Before he could fully recover, Lieutenant stuffed the gong back into his hand and brought the horse back over to be buckled to the contraption again. Zhang Qishan threw off his coat, crouched on the outer coffin where the child had just been, and put his left hand between the pipa shears.

Again? Qi Tiezui was trembling all over and felt as if his knees were about to collapse. Unlike the shouting from a moment ago, Zhang Qishan’s voice was very calm as he said: “Old Ba, look at me.”

Qi Tiezui looked up. Zhang Qishan had already taken out the severed arm, which was completely covered in blood. He threw the severed arm to the medic and then inserted his hand into the whistle hole again. Qi Tiezui’s mind went blank, and the smell of blood in his nose immediately made him gag. He told himself he wouldn’t collapse as he clung tightly to the gong, fearing that his hands would go slack and he would drop it on the ground again.

Zhang Qishan’s body jerked violently and he seemed to have touched something, but he didn’t show the slightest hint of fear. Instead, he looked expressionless. Qi Tiezui didn’t know whether it was an illusion or not, but he saw a few dark red lines appear on Zhang Qishan’s neck and chest that seemed to be the blood in his veins brought out by the alcohol. Then, Zhang Qishan twisted his arm sharply in the coffin. No one heard a sound, but they could feel the amount of strength that had been exerted. After that, Zhang Qishan slowly pulled his hand out and Qi Tiezui could see that he was holding something.

The thing in his hand was completely black and filthy, which either came from the blood or the filth inside the coffin. He held it up to the dying sunlight and got a good look at it.

<Chapter 7> <Table of Contents><Chapter 9>

**** 

RIP little Zhang’s arm. Oh yeah, I discovered today that somebody else apparently translated some of “The Mystic Nine” like 4 years ago, so if you’d prefer to read their version, it’s here. Just want to give credit where it’s due, you know they worked super hard on it（＾ｖ＾）