The piercing screams echoed through the night, growing more solitary and more terrifying. Should we run? Hearing the cat king's speaker emit those screams, Zhang Yuanqing felt a sudden tightness in his scalp, a chill spreading through his chest. He had never expected such a response from the cat king speaker—this was far from good news. He waited in silence, only for the speaker to remain silent. As it did, his heart sank. He gave it a solid slap. "Come on, you don't want to stay here forever, do you? Tell us what you know—let's work together to get out of this place!" But this time, the speaker offered no reply, even when Zhang Yuanqing drew out his blood-sucking blade for good measure. So, its only message was to escape? Seeing that the cat king speaker provided no reliable information, Zhang Yuanqing quickly regained his composure and drew upon his own strengths, beginning to analyze. He first reviewed the available facts and noticed that when the old man mentioned the paper figures, he only said they would appear at two in the morning, offering no further details. As for the ghost doll, it insists on playing games. "So it seems the paper figure differs from the ghost doll—while the latter can rely on rules to avoid confrontation, the paper figure cannot; it has to face things head-on, with no alternatives." "The cat king speaker's hint is to escape—this already speaks volumes. The paper figure may even be more daunting than the ghost doll. This is a quest zone; if I could escape, I would have done so already. What's the point of your reminder?" "Information about the paper figure is still scarce. To defeat it, I'll need to first uncover its true nature. Fortunately, I've always been cautious and asked a few more questions." He asked the old man where the box of rouge was located. The reply was that it was still at Mr. Xu's home. Thus, the next objective became clear: find Mr. Xu's home and locate the box of rouge. At that point, he would likely gain a wealth of useful information. "Since the ghost doll departed, nearly half an hour has passed. Between the first and second watch, there are two hours apart. I still have about one and a half hours left." "The village isn't small—by the time you've reached Mr. Xu's house, it takes over an hour and a half, which is quite a challenge," Zhang Yuanqing said, gazing into the deep night, pausing for a few seconds before forming a plan. ——Absorb the villagers' spiritual essences to gain answers. Wang Xiaoshi is a key NPC and cannot be consumed; the villagers, then, should suffice. He led the deceased No. 1 to the nearest stone house and charged straight in. "Hoo-hoo~" Hearing the commotion, the two spectral corpses inside their home had blood-red pupils surge with fierce intensity, lunging at them with outstretched arms. The deceased No. 1 stepped forward with a steady stride, sweeping his right leg like a whip, knocking out the female spectral corpse's head. Then, using the momentum of the whip motion, he rotated half a circle, guiding his right arm to deliver a powerful punch that shattered the male spectral corpse's head. Blood and flesh, along with bone fragments, rained down like droplets. The two headless spectral corpses staggered forward a few steps before collapsing. In Zhang Yuanqing's eyes, a dark energy surged, filling his entire One after another, fragmented scenes flashed by, and soon among the scattered memories, Zhang Yuanqing located Mr. Xu's residence. The teacher lived in a courtyard on the western side of the village, by the river, and was the most cultured person in the village. Once he knew Mr. Xu's address, Zhang Yuanqing no longer felt urgent. He remained seated in place, eyes closed, calming himself. Given his current physical condition, he was utterly unable to handle sudden emergencies. It was better to stay put and recover his strength and health rather than wander around. In the stillness, he could not perceive the passage of time. With his left finger lightly resting on his pulse, he counted the beats to measure time. The surrounding abundance of the Yin energy nourished his injured body, repairing broken bones and restoring strength. After his pulse had beaten 1,800 times, Zhang Yuanqing opened his eyes—his gaze now bright and vibrant, the earlier weakness completely gone. His broken bones had fully healed and his strength had returned to seventy percent of his peak. "When my strength recovers to about ninety percent, I'll be able to re-activate the Roar of the Moon. Unfortunately, I haven't had any food—otherwise, I'd already be at my peak. Without hesitation, he leads the deceased No. 1 away from this location toward the western part of the village. Fifteen minutes later, while walking along the narrow village roads, Zhang Yuanqing hears the cheerful sound of a flowing stream. Turning around a compact earth-built house, he sees a small river, three meters wide, weaving through the stone houses. The water flows swiftly but gently, making a light, lively sound. After walking a few more minutes along the stream, he finally reaches the outer courtyard of Mr. Xu's residence. It's still half an hour before the second watch. For safety, Zhang Yuanqing decides to send the deceased No. 1 inside to explore while he stays outside. Considering the deceased's limited vision in the dark, he wraps the deceased No. 1 in the Yin-Yang robe. With both hands pressed against the courtyard gate, the deceased No. 1 exerts silent force, and the gate slowly opens, emitting a subtle creak from the hinges. The deceased, undeterred by the darkness Every time this happens, Zhang Yuanqing feels a deep sense of foresight—he had started preparing to create the Yin Shi three levels ago. Otherwise, in such a crisis-prone quest, if the original body had to keep clearing obstacles, it would likely explode mid-process and return directly to the Spiritual Realm. After passing through the courtyard and pushing open the lattice door of the main hall, Yin Shi No. 1 stops just outside the threshold, spreading her palms. Whoosh! A ball of fire rises, dispelling the darkness and bringing light. The furnishings inside the main hall come into view: a round table directly facing the entrance, with round stools beside it, and scrolls and paintings hung on the walls. To the left of the entrance is a wooden bed with curtains draped down, and to the right, a bookshelf and a rectangular desk. No paper figures, no corpses. It seems the villagers, upon discovering Mr. Xu’s death, had already buried his body. The absence of paper figures here is a relief—Zhang Yuanqing exhales in relief. Immediately, he steps over the stone threshold of the courtyard, making sure to close the courtyard gate behind him, then walks through the small courtyard to reach the main The paper figure is different from a ghost doll; as long as it has a physical form, it cannot ignore the physical obstacles. Closing the door of the hall isn't to block the other person, but to serve as an alert—like the sound of a bell. One person and one corpse entered the main house, the door was closed, Zhang Yuanqing extinguished the fire ball, treated the darkness as if it didn't exist, first inspected the beds, opened several chests containing cotton quilts and clothing, and paused to glance at the bed's base. Only after confirming that the paper figure was truly no longer there did he walk over to the desk and examine the items upon it. The first thing he noticed was a small, elegant rouge box—about half a palm in size, one finger high, made of silver, composed of a base and a lid, intricately carved with elegant clouds and floral patterns. Zhang Yuanqing reached out and picked up the rouge box, pausing for a few seconds. The item properties appeared: 【Name: Blood Rouge】 【Type: Cosmetics】 【Function: Spirit attachment, Blood-thirsty】 【Description: It is said to have been made from the blood of eighty-eight young girls, never drying out or fading over a thousand years—exactly what every woman dreams of for her private beauty essentials. After the owner's death, it becomes a burial item, deeply buried beneath the earth for ages. The spirit of lamentation within the box, nourished by the surrounding阴 (yin) energy, grows increasingly fierce. Applying the rouge to the cheeks or lips allows the spirit to attach itself. This spirit has an intense craving for blood and can only be pacified through the offering of sufficient vital essence.】 【Note 1: If no one is killed, then the user will be the one to die.】 【Note 2: Over the next ten minutes, one of the body's functions will randomly cease to function.】 【Note 3: Among the deceased girls, one is a spirit of seduction—be cautious of its influence.】 "Indeed, the rouge box is a high-quality item—though not yet at the Sage Realm level, it already possesses the quality of a transcendent peak, comparable even to such elite equipment as the Yin-Yang Robe." Zhang Yuanqing thought it over and was about to retrieve the box. 【Notification: This item cannot be collected.】 Well, nothing comes for free, then... Zhang Yuanqing mused internally. As far as he knew, all items in the spiritual realm were unique and non-renewable—once taken, they were gone forever. The realm adjusted its difficulty levels based on the number of items gained or lost. If the rouge box could be taken, the Demon King would have already claimed it by now; it couldn't still be here. Without the paper figures, the difficulty of the 'Silent Village' might even decrease. "According to explanation No. 3 in the notes, Mr. Xu was likely enchanted by the rouge box, which is why he applied rouge to the paper figures and released the vengeful spirit trapped within—leading to his untimely death." Zhang Yuanqing thought this over while examining the other items on the table. — Several books related to the Ming Dynasty, and one hand-drawn, simplified map. The books were written in classical Chinese, which Zhang Yuanqing casually flipped through before setting aside, and instead took up the map to examine it closely. On the map, simple lines outlined "houses" and "mountains," with a note at the bottom reading: "Location of the ancient tomb, southwest of the rear hills, twenty-three li." Combining this with the books at hand, Zhang Yuanqing immediately understood that Mr. Xu was analyzing both the location of the tomb and the identity of its owner. Since he had seen Wang Xiao'er retrieve valuable treasures from the tomb, Zhang Yuanqing now suspected that Wang had developed a desire for wealth and might also wish to enter the tomb himself. "Yet that doesn't quite make sense. Wang Xiao'er and the itinerant Daoist spent the entire night wandering the hills before finally discovering the tomb's entrance. Mr. Xu could not have deduced the tomb's location simply from his home. He might have obtained information through purchasing the rouge box from Wang Xiao'er—perhaps even extracting details through subtle inquiries." Zhang Yuanqing set this point aside immediately. It didn't matter precisely how Mr. He shifted his attention back to the item details of "Bloodly Rosette." "According to the old man's account, Mr. Xu was sucked dry and turned into a human skeleton—this aligns perfectly with the description of the Bloodly Rosette. Mr. Xu passed away, but the villagers next door remained unharmed. That night, the paper figure only killed Mr. Xu..." Suddenly, a faint "creak" sounded from the courtyard, interrupting Zhang Yuanqing's thoughts. The sound was subtle, yet in the quiet night, any movement was magnified. Zhang Yuanqing instantly lifted his head, turning toward the door, his body instinctively tensing. Hey—already past two in the morning... Since becoming the Night-Wanderer, Zhang Yuanqing hadn't felt this sharp sense of unease and suspense in a long time. The last time he'd experienced it was in the Mountain God's Temple, where, as a regular person, he had barely held on by sheer survival instinct. Otherwise, he would have been overwhelmed by the eerie and terrifying atmosphere. Now, he has rediscovered that sense he once had... Zhang Yuanqing did not rush out with his weapon to engage the paper figures in a head-to-head battle. Instead, he carried the deceased No. 1 swiftly toward the bed, and silently slipped beneath the mattress. He pressed gently on the deceased No. 1’s shoulders and entered the state of nocturnal movement. Zhang Yuanqing observed the paper figure and sensed a rich, deep阴 qi, far more profound than that of the usual ghost doll. He stepped back a few centimeters to broaden his field of view, enabling a full assessment of the figure's appearance. Darkness did not impair the Night-Wanderer's vision; he focused intently and clearly saw the figure—a paper figure dressed in vibrant crimson, appearing like a streak of blood in the dark. Its face was made of white paper, unnervingly pale, yet the cheeks were painted with a vivid, blood-like red, and the lips were tinted with rosy rouge. Most unsettling of all, the eye sockets of the paper figure held two streaks of deep crimson. The stark whiteness and the vivid redness contrasted dramatically on a lifeless, rigid face, and anyone who saw it would immediately feel uneasy. ...Zhang Yuanqing silently drew back. At that moment, the paper figure, which had stood motionless for a long time, began to move toward the desk, stepping with an odd, unsteady gait. Its gait was strangely odd—its knee joints seemed rigid, as if marching in stiff, precise steps with equal distance and interval between each stride. Human beings could never walk with such accuracy and regularity. From the round table to the desk, a distance of four or five meters, it took the paper figure over a dozen seconds before it finally stopped by the desk, its head hanging stiffly downward, as though gazing at something on the surface. What book was it looking at? Zhang Yuanqing felt a sudden jolt in his mind, quickly reviewing his actions to ensure everything had been properly reset, only then exhaling in relief. The paper figure paused briefly by the desk, turned stiffly on its knees, and walked toward the bed. ….. Zhang Yuanqing’s relaxed demeanor tightened once again. "Shh... shh..." The paper figure moved softly, its footsteps barely audible. Zhang Yuanqing fixed his gaze on the embroidered shoes, watching it advance in stiff, measured steps, inching closer until it finally stopped at the edge of the bed. Though it was in a nocturnal state, Zhang Yuanqing held his breath. After arriving at the bedside, the paper figure began standing there for a long time. At this moment, Zhang Yuqing's night-wandering time remained only half a minute. The embroidered shoes were now less than fifteen centimeters away from his face. Following an increasingly suffocating silence, the stiff paper figure turned around and took a light, rustling step toward the door. Finally, it had gone—Zhang Yuqing longed to exhale, finally relieved. Suddenly, the paper figure stopped, facing away from the bed, motionless. Zhang Yuqing's view was blocked by the bed's edge, so he could only see the lower part of the figure's legs, and the upper body remained out of sight. Why had it stopped? As Zhang Yuqing remained attentive, his curiosity grew, and then he witnessed a terrifying scene. The paper figure slowly bent down, lowered its head, and looked downward between its legs. Zhang Yuqing saw the pale, lifeless face. Meanwhile, the paper figure had also noticed him.