The two statues in the temple were both very tall, at least four meters high, and it was unknown how much effort it had taken to carry them over from another place.
Yang Jian wasnât superstitious about these things, nor did he plan to burn incense or worship the clay statues.
Without any hesitation, he clambered onto the high platform where the statues were placed, seated himself on the shoulder of one statue, and then touched the statueâs head with the black Ghost Hand he had just removed his glove from.
His hand eerily penetrated into the statue.
This was the combination of the Ghost Domain and the Ghost Hand; he had once retrieved the Ghost Infant from Zhang Liqinâs body through the abdominal wall, so by now he was quite practiced at it.
Soon,
Yang Jianâs extended hand felt a clump of dense hair that felt like a dead manâs, chilling to the core, embedded tightly in the clay statue.
Another Dead Manâs Head.
He even felt the contours of the facial features, not decayed, very well-preserved, just like the two sections of the corpse he had unearthed before.
He tried to pull the head out, but then Yang Jianâs expression changed dramatically, and he quickly withdrew his hand.
Yang Jian looked at his hand, now bearing a row of faint bite marks.
He had been bitten.
âWhat a joke, even if that head were a ghostâs, it shouldnât be able to move under the suppression of the Ghost Hand, let alone bite,â Yang Jian felt a chill, because this was beyond his understanding, an unprecedented event, whether facing humans or ghosts.
âVery strange, but these bite marks are not a problem, and I wasnât injured,â
He glanced at his hand, and instead of reaching out again, he simply slapped the head, knocking it out from inside the statue.
Thud!
A heavy Dead Manâs Head fell out of the statue, landing heavily on the altar before rolling onto the ground and knocking over several oil lamps.
The old woman basking in the sun at the door seemed somewhat hard of hearing and didnât notice the commotion inside, not even turning her head to look.
Yang Jian jumped down and walked towards the head rolling on the ground.
This Dead Manâs Head was different from the rotting one held by the Ghost Child before; its features were clear, its skin was ghastly pale, showing no signs of decay or damage, and its hair was thick, looking as though it had died just yesterday, showing no indication that it had been sealed in the statue for over a decade.
âMy father really knew how to hide things. Legs in a fishpond, a body in the woods, and a head in this temple; he separated the body parts of a bizarre person into three pieces, placing them in different locations. Yet, I still have a few doubts.â
Yang Jian frowned.
If it was about hiding things, why choose a fishpond, a dog-raising wood, and this temple?
Digging a deep pit and planting a tree as a marker, or choosing an easily recognizable spot to bury, wouldnât that be better?
Not considering these things now,
Yang Jian approached the pale and closed-eyed Dead Manâs Head and took a closer look.
He didnât recognize the face.
There was an inexplicable disharmony about it; the whole face didnât seem naturally born, somewhat as if it was⊠pieced together from different sources. A cursory glance revealed nothing odd, but upon closer inspection, it was clear that the eyes, eyebrows, nose, and mouth didnât match at all.
Yet, there were no traces of being pieced together.
âItâs just like a dormant fierce ghost,â Yang Jian made this assessment in his mind.
After observing for a bit, he saw the head showed no signs of movement, no hint of resurrection, nor any trace of opening its eyes and awakening.
To be on the safe side, he didnât touch it and let the head remain on the ground.
Then, Yang Jian went to the second statue and, just like before, he removed the object inside.
To oneâs surprise, it turned out to be another Dead Manâs Head rolling out.
What kind of joke was this?
There were two statues here, and each concealed a Dead Manâs Head.
Yang Jian quickly went over to see what the second Dead Manâs Head looked like, to understand the difference from the previous one, and to figure out why his father had specifically placed two heads here. After all, there was only one body, which simply couldnât accommodate two heads.
However, when he got a clear look at the second Dead Manâs Head, Yang Jian froze completely, as if seeing something unbelievable, he just stood there, stunned.
The second head was similar to the first: pale skin, short hair, eyes closed, clear features, and no signs of decay or destruction.
â`
But that appearance⊠it actually bore a striking resemblance to Yang Jian himself; no, not Yang Jianâthe face was more like that of his father in the portrait.
Right.
That was indeed his fatherâs face, without a doubt. So, did that mean this head was a part of his fatherâs corpse?
âHow could this be, how is this possible,â Yang Jian felt an inexplicable chill.
If this head belonged to his father, then the timeline made no sense at all because his father was still alive at that time, not yet dead. He was digging fish ponds in the village, raising dogs in the woods, engaging in questionable activities, and only occasionally going out to work⊠It was impossible for him to have severed his own head and hidden it within the statue.
A mystery.
An inexplicable, eerie phenomenon.
Yang Jian thought he could unravel these events, but he found the whole affair growing even more bizarre. The deeper he dug, the more restless and confused he became, gaining not answers but rather even more frightening information.
Perhaps, his father had long been dead, and the person doing these things was not his father but someone else.
Or, perhaps many peopleâs memories were flawed.
Yang Jian suddenly remembered the bloodstained newspaper. If that object could alter memories, then all these inconsistencies could be explained.
It wasnât reality that was flawed, but rather himself.
A headache.
Truly a headache.
Yang Jian felt it would have been better if he hadnât made this trip at all. At least he would not have to consider all this, and could have just stayed in Dachang City to work calmly. Now that he had unearthed these things, he felt as if a shadow enveloped him.
Maybe.
He was not a normal person.
The encounter with the haunted newspaper in the rental was not an accident.
After pondering for a moment,
Yang Jian stared at the head that might belong to his father, then looked at the body bag in his hands.
He wondered, if he reattached the head, would the person resembling his father wake up?
âThis is foolish, how could someone dead for over a decade resurrect? Even if that were possible, itâs likely not his father, but a ghost merely wearing his fatherâs appearanceâjust like the other Ghost Handlers who died and revived due to malevolent spirits.â
Yang Jian then shook his head, finding his own thoughts ridiculous, entertaining such an idea.
It seems he still clung to a sense of familial affection; even if he had never met this father, he would probably try to resurrect him without hesitation if possible.
But.
There were two heads here, one his fatherâs and the other belonging to a strange, eerie stranger.
Yet there was only one body to join them to.
At first glance, both heads seemed fitting to attach.
It was a choice to make.
Yang Jian did not immediately choose, but rather collected these things and began to leave the place.
There was nothing more here worth lingering over.
He had found everything he ought to find, save for some lingering doubts.
But then again, those probably werenât important.
Yang Jian returned to the village with the body that had been divided into three parts.
Yet, he still hadnât noticed that every time he passed a place with standing water, his reflection watched him with a strange expression. Though there were no overt signs of suspicion, the reflection didnât leave his side and kept following him covertly.
Because it was certain that the reflection wasnât Yang Jianâs own: it had been invaded by some supernatural force, or one might even say, it was a ghost.
The nightmares at night, the dismembered bodies, the head that could be his fatherâs, and the peculiar reflection in the water.
The seemingly tranquil Meishan Village was not as peaceful and serene as imagined.
The village had long harbored an incomprehensible eeriness; it was just unknown why these latent supernatural elements had yet to reveal themselves.
â`
Source: Webnovel.com, updated by novlove.com
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