C13 Ghost Seedling Growing

"Blood? What are you up to now?" I quickly set the bottle down and inquired.

"It's certainly useful. Watch this..." Third Uncle gave me a sidelong glance, unscrewed the bottle cap, and began to carefully pour the blood into the bowl of the black datura, explaining as he did so, "This is black dog blood. I've mixed in cinnabar and powdered rosin to prevent it from coagulating."

I nodded, observing the dwindling amount of blood in the bottle. Despite being poured into the copper bowl, the blood swiftly penetrated the soil. Several large cracks had formed in the bowl, yet no blood leaked from them. It appeared as though the plant had absorbed all the blood.

Just then, the unremarkable flower bud underwent a transformation. Vein-like structures emerged from the roots to the leaves, faintly visible on the plant. Recalling Third Uncle's experience from the previous night, I instinctively stepped back, wary of any further odd occurrences with the flower bud.

Third Uncle grumbled, "After leaving that room, the Ghost Infant won't be fully developed and can't follow us. This flower bud won't stir up any trouble."

Relieved by his words, I continued to watch Third Uncle work with the flower bud. The veins grew increasingly prominent, and I could actually see something resembling blood flowing within them. This sight truly embodied Third Uncle's saying that the world is full of wonders. I doubted anyone would believe me if I shared this story.

The veins thickened until, under our watchful eyes, they burst. Blood dripped from the leaves, rapidly staining the ground red.

Once all the blood had drained, the once vibrant black datura wilted rapidly.

Third Uncle then began pulling various items from his bag, laying them out on the ground: a censer, several pieces of yellow talisman paper, and a small shovel.

Pointing to the censer, Third Uncle instructed, "Nephew, there's incense ash inside. Hold onto this censer and await my command. When I tell you, scatter all the incense ash..."

"Where should I scatter it?" Third Uncle's instructions were vague, leaving me bewildered.

Without another word, Third Uncle, his expression grave, picked up a small shovel and began to dig at the base of the black datura.

I held back my questions, cradling the censer in my arms, and watched Third Uncle work. The copper bowl contained only a small amount of soil, which was quickly displaced by Third Uncle's efficient digging, exposing the roots of the black datura.

We had researched black datura in the library, learning that its roots could be used medicinally and its leaves were highly toxic. We had handled the leaves without suffering any ill effects, likely due to the protective shrouds we wore. Third Uncle had mentioned that these shrouds could conceal our Yang energy. Could they also provide a barrier against the leaves' poison?

Lost in thought, I barely noticed Third Uncle had cleared away the loose soil from the roots.

The sight of the black datura's rootstock left me speechless with astonishment. It had taken on the form of an infant, complete with a head, arms, and legs. At the navel of this Ghost Infant sprouted the black datura. I could even make out the semblance of blood circulation within the infant's body, a slow transfusion feeding into the plant's branches and leaves.

However, Third Uncle had already mixed the blood with that of a black dog, and most of it had been drained. Despite this, the blood vessels on the Ghost Infant continued to pulse with life.

"Nephew, scatter it now," Third Uncle commanded abruptly.

At last, I understood where my incense ash was meant to go. Following Third Uncle's directive without hesitation, I scattered the ash from the censer into the copper bowl. The Ghost Infant's small form was nearly buried beneath the mound of ash.

I had already noticed that the infant's limbs were fully formed. The only discernible difference from a normal baby was its facial features, which were still indistinct, suggesting that the rootstock had not yet fully matured.

"If we had arrived even a few days later, this rootstock might have been fully developed," Third Uncle mused, standing still for a moment before exhaling deeply.

"What's the deal with this child? What will happen once it's fully formed?" I couldn't help but interject with a question, driven by curiosity.

"I've already told you, this is a form of Evil Arts, and I'm not entirely sure about the details. But there are commonalities among the arts, so I can use Tao Arts to destroy this Ghost Infant. There's an Evil Art that accelerates the growth of a Ghost Infant, which is likely what we're dealing with here. The Ghost Infant uses plants to aid spirits in their escape. That stem resembling an infant is actually the essence of the Ghost Infant – it's the deceased baby that Chen Xi buried, now merged with the stem. In that ominous house, the malignant aura and Yin Qi are abundant, nurturing the growth of the Ghost Infant. Once the infant's facial features are fully developed, the Ghost Embryo will emerge from the earth..."

"And what happens after it emerges?" I pressed, feeling increasingly out of my depth as Third Uncle continued.

"The ancient texts mention that with the right guidance, such a Ghost Infant can be resurrected. But since Chen Xi has passed, there's no one to tend to this Ghost Infant. It will become the Flying Evil Ghost Infant described in the texts, reputed to prey on unborn children within pregnant women. Furthermore, this Flying Evil is difficult to form and even harder to subdue. It could bring misfortune to many."

I found Third Uncle's explanation hard to believe; it sounded straight out of a myth.

Noticing my skepticism, Third Uncle added, "As I said, it's documented in ancient books. Whether it's true or not, no one has seen it firsthand. With these things, it's better to err on the side of caution. The term 'Evil' in Evil Arts is used for a reason. For now, let's focus on destroying this unformed ghost embryo and seed. Whether it's real or not, ending it will resolve the matter."

"Okay. How do we destroy it?"

"Burn it," he replied. Third Uncle then dug a hole in the ground with a shovel and placed the shriveled ghost seed inside. He magically produced several sticks of firewood from his bag as if performing a sleight of hand.

"Third Uncle, your bag is like a general store; how come you have everything in it?"

Third Uncle replied, "When you set out to do a job, you've got to be prepared. These firewood sticks come from a farmer's hearth. They burn with the fire of the living world, also known as Yao fire, and they're particularly effective against certain malevolent entities."

While he spoke, Third Uncle lit a stick of firewood and tossed it into the pit.

I kept adding more wood to the fire, and the flames grew larger and more intense.

Yet, oddly enough, the black datura, though wilted, seemed to be fire-resistant. It didn't catch fire, and its leaves sizzled as if they were coated in oil.

Seeing this, Third Uncle quickly pulled out several talisman papers, pricked his middle finger, and swiftly wrote some runes on them before flinging them into the flames.

The talisman papers caught fire immediately. Oddly, as they burned away, the flames leapt up over a meter high.

Simultaneously, I heard a sound like a baby's cry. It was piercing and mournful, as if it were suffering from endless torment.

The cry made my skin crawl and goosebumps spread across my body.

Both of us were intently watching the pit when, unexpectedly, a sigh came from behind us.

The sigh was faint, almost imperceptible.

Before we had the chance to look back, a shadowy figure darted past us. With swift movements, the figure reached the fire and grabbed for the Ghost Infant.

Caught off guard by someone appearing at this moment, Third Uncle and I were momentarily stunned by the turn of events.

By the time Third Uncle called out, "Who's there?"

The figure had already snatched the Ghost Infant from the fire with his bare hands and was sprinting off in a different direction.

We gave chase for a few steps, but the figure quickly vanished into the night.

We had no choice but to stop. Third Uncle swore under his breath, "Damn, someone actually went and stole it."

I gazed in the direction the figure had fled, pondering for a moment, then asked, "Third Uncle, did you see that silhouette? Looked like a person, didn't it?"

"Hmm?" Third Uncle was taken aback. "Looks like a person? Who does it resemble?"

I shook my head. "It shouldn't be possible."

Annoyed, Third Uncle pressed, "Quit beating around the bush. What did you actually see?"

"That old man from the library. His silhouette seemed familiar, and he had silver hair too."

"Damn, you noticed that? Now that you mention it, I'm starting to feel the same way. Isn't that old man a professor? What's he doing stealing that thing?" Third Uncle was clearly baffled.

"Who knows? He seemed really interested in the photo of the black datura. My guess is that he's been following us since we left. He tracked us to this place, but when we went into the haunted house, he lost us. He must have been persistent, searching the area until he saw us burning the ghost seed, and that's when he made his move."

After I shared my thoughts, Third Uncle nodded, signaling his agreement with my theory.

Third Uncle gestured dismissively, "Let it go. The ghost seed is already half destroyed; it's unlikely to be revived. Our mission isn't perfectly complete, but it's done. Once we've dealt with this haunted house, we'll have time to confront that old man at the university."

I turned to Third Uncle and inquired, "So, is the haunted house resolved?"

"It's pretty much settled. The ghost seed's strength was its main threat. With the ghost shadow's original form gone, its spirit should have dissipated too. Didn't you hear that wailing? Tomorrow at noon, we'll perform a Room Cleansing in the house. That will take care of any lingering spirits and filth. After that, the house is ours. Heh, we'll find a buyer, make a tidy sum, and nephew, we'll be in the money."

Third Uncle was beaming with excitement, as if energized.

"And for now?" I asked.

Yawning, Third Uncle replied, "We head back and get some sleep. I'm dead tired."

We packed up our gear, hailed a car, and returned to the basement.

Everything seemed to have gone according to plan, at least according to Third Uncle. But I couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't going to be that simple. As it turned out, subsequent events confirmed my suspicions.