Chapter 129: The Large Red Suitcase

Cui Yue instinctively cast a glance toward the back row of seats; the tall, thin man had truly vanished into thin air.

Just then, his heart began to pound violently. A surge of alertness gripped him, and as he lowered his head, he caught a glimpse of a shadow on the floor.

"Oh no!"

Before he could turn around, a heavy blow struck his head. His body went limp, his mind turned blank, and he slumped to the floor, unconscious.

A sinister laugh echoed from behind, and the tall, thin man stood over him, holding a blood-stained jack.

Cui Yue drifted through a kaleidoscope of colors, a world of illusory bubbles. He looked at his own hands and wondered, *What is this? What is happening to me?*

Am I dreaming again? Why would I have such a strange dream?

Suddenly, he felt his body burning with intense heat. He looked down and gasped; a gaping hole had been torn in his chest, with a black vortex embedded within it. Countless wisps of black vapor slowly seeped out from the vortex, coiling around his body.

Gradually, Cui Yue found it difficult to breathe. His entire being was bound within a massive black cocoon, and as the endless black silk slowly devoured him, only his despairing eyes remained visible.

The human-shaped cocoon fell through the void, descending into the unknown, into nothingness.

Cui Yue snapped his eyes open, staring blankly at the ceiling of the carriage.

"Where... where am I?"

The pungent smell of gasoline mixed with the stench of cheap cigarettes assaulted his nose. Cui Yue felt a splitting headache and instinctively reached up to rub it, only to discover a large, swollen lump on the back of his head, his fingers stained with traces of blood.

Only then did he recall being ambushed by the tall, thin man and knocked unconscious.

He clutched his head in agony as he pulled himself up, leaning against the seat to scan the carriage. It was empty. The shattered glass, the spots of blood on the floor, and even the discarded jack were all proof of what had occurred, but the driver, Old Wu, and the tall, thin man were gone.

Along with them, the red suitcase had also disappeared.

What was going on? What had happened?

Cui Yue’s head throbbed violently, and waves of dizziness threatened to make him collapse at any moment.

Suddenly, a strand of black hair dangled down from the shattered windshield, revealing a single white eyeball that stared fixedly at him.

"It... it's you again!"

Cui Yue’s heart tightened. He scrambled to pull a small peach-wood sword from his clothes, gripping it tightly.

Man and ghost stood face to face, separated by the broken glass.

The female ghost reached out a mangled hand and gently pushed aside the black hair covering her face. Blood constantly welled from her ruined eye sockets. Her face was a mass of knife wounds with skin hanging in flaps, and a hissing sound emanated from her lips.

Whether it was the lingering vertigo from the blow to his head or the sheer repulsion of the ghost's true form, Cui Yue felt a wave of nausea.

"What do you want? I advise you to move on to the afterlife; my sword is made to cut down evil spirits!" Cui Yue forced himself to stay alert, issuing a threat.

Whether the ghost understood him or not, she crawled down from the roof and landed by the carriage door. That white eye remained fixed on him, her lips twitching as if she had something to say.

She drifted to an open space three meters away, as if waiting for him.

Cui Yue hesitated. Should he go out?

Old Wu had once said that the carriage was protected by Master Huo’s spiritual talismans, keeping most ghosts at bay. Staying inside was like sitting within a circle drawn by the Monkey King—it was the safest course of action. But once outside, there was no guarantee of safety.

Yet, with Old Wu and the tall, thin man both missing, Cui Yue sensed that something was terribly wrong. He feared worse was yet to come.

What did this female ghost want?

Gritting his teeth, he lunged for the door release, but the mechanism wouldn't budge.

Broken?

Cui Yue didn't care anymore. He kicked the door repeatedly until it finally burst open. He leapt out, pointing his peach-wood sword at the ghost and shouting, "What exactly do you want?"

Seeing him exit, the ghost drifted a dozen meters forward. When she saw him standing there, stunned, she pointed her mangled hand toward the cornfield ahead, signaling him to follow.

Was she trying to lead the way?

Cui Yue felt a foreboding sense that the ghost and the tall, thin man might be connected. He thought for a moment and decided to follow her to get to the bottom of things.

Thus, the man and the ghost faded into the night. Only the rustling of the cornfield could be heard, while the minibus remained abandoned on the roadside, one side smashed against a cliff.

Before long, through the thick stalks of corn, Cui Yue spotted a dim yellow light ahead.

"Is that... the vehicle's emergency light?"

He held his breath and carefully parted the corn leaves with his hands.

In the clearing ahead, the driver, Old Wu, stood covered in blood inside a waist-deep pit, shoveling dirt out. The tall, thin man stood above him, wielding an axe. The blade, glinting coldly under the moonlight, was leveled at Old Wu’s head.

One wrong move, and his skull would be split in two.

At the tall, thin man’s feet sat the large red suitcase, looking strikingly conspicuous and eerie in the dark of the night.

Old Wu’s legs trembled uncontrollably. Too terrified to wipe the sweat from his brow, he shoveled dirt mechanically.

Cui Yue dared not act rashly, fearing that a premature intervention might not save Old Wu but instead lead to disaster. He decided to observe a little longer.

After Old Wu had dug a pit nearly the height of an adult, he barely had a moment to catch his breath before the tall, thin man ordered him to drag the red suitcase over. The man unzipped it and flung the lid open.

Cui Yue felt his breath hitch, his eyes locked on the suitcase, desperate to see what was hidden inside.

With a heavy thud, a mangled hand fell out of the case.

Cui Yue’s eyes widened, and he nearly cried out. Inside the red suitcase lay a naked female corpse, her body covered in knife wounds. Even more horrific, her face had been slashed repeatedly, leaving it a bloody mess with half an eyeball hanging from the socket.

Old Wu froze. Once he realized what was in the case, he dropped his shovel into the pit and collapsed onto the edge, retching violently. He had never been so humiliated in his life; he sobbed and gagged, almost vomiting his very bile.

The tall, thin man, however, remained calm, even wearing a faint smile, as if what lay before him was not a mutilated corpse, but a finely crafted work of art.

Watching the bloody scene, Cui Yue gasped. Now he understood why the ghost had led him here.

Without a doubt, this woman had been tortured to death by the tall, thin man and stuffed into that red suitcase. That was her body inside.

And because she had died a wrongful death, she had been haunting the man, only to cross paths with Cui Yue and his group.