Chapter Fifty-Six: The Cycle of Cause and Effect

“Axing, what on earth is wrong with you!” Ah Hao knelt before the mirror, his fists pounding the floor in anguish.

Sun Xing in the mirror said nothing; it was the leader opposite him who finally spoke.

“This afternoon, you’ll need to go to headquarters to complete the formalities. Someone will receive you.”

No explanation was offered for his dismissal. Sun Xing clenched his teeth, his eyes brimming with unwillingness. He gathered his personal belongings and stormed out, slamming the office door behind him.

He did not say goodbye to any colleagues at the branch. Silently, he drew a fruit knife from his drawer and concealed it in his coat pocket, then drove straight to headquarters.

In the conference room, a man in a sharp suit handed him a check.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Sun Xing’s hand gripped the knife handle in his pocket, his stance ready for a desperate confrontation.

“Part of it is your unemployment compensation. The other part is for something we’d like to borrow from you.” The suited man stepped aside, and from the inner office emerged a figure clad in a robe of myriad colors.

The figure’s face was hidden beneath the robe, hunched over, adorned with all manner of strange jingling ornaments.

He approached Sun Xing slowly, silently, and drew a mask from his garments.

Sun Xing, a descendant of the Miao people though not versed in the occult, recognized instantly: it was a human skin.

The skin’s visage was hideous, the texture wrinkled. The robed figure came close, his voice hoarse and low, “Give us your face.”

Sun Xing’s eyes widened, a wave of terror rising from within, forcing him to step back.

“Don’t—don’t come any closer!”

The robed figure paid no heed, continuing forward with the human skin in hand.

Panicked, Sun Xing drew the fruit knife from his pocket, blade forward, ready to defend himself against the two men.

“Damn it, you’re asking for death.” The suited man roared, moving with astonishing agility. In an instant, he was beside Sun Xing, but by then, Sun Xing’s chest had already been pierced, crimson blood flowing forth.

Disbelief filled Sun Xing’s eyes as he staggered back a few steps, finally collapsing for lack of strength.

Gradually, the scenes in the four surrounding mirrors faded into darkness. The room’s lights brightened again. The present “Sun Xing” no longer glared in rage, but was restored to his previous confusion and bewilderment. Behind him, a towering shadow held a sword of blue steel, its voice resonant and awe-inspiring.

“There is no longer a place for you in this world.”

The voice thundered with such authority that our heads seemed to ring. The spectral figure, resembling Zhong Kui, murmured to Sun Xing’s back.

The phantom moved to draw its sword and strike at Sun Xing’s nape. Yet as the blade descended, the black swastika symbol on Sun Xing’s back blazed with radiant light, blocking the sword’s azure glow.

“Hm?” The phantom was baffled. The black light behind Sun Xing grew ever more intense, exuding a peculiar aura.

Meanwhile, the mirrors at the four points of the room displayed strange new scenes. They rotated, revealing the silhouettes of two men and two women. One was missing both hands, another both legs; one’s head was blood-soaked, the last bore a face riddled with knife scars and a chest torn open.

These four stood silently in the mirrors, hunched, their eyes fixed on Sun Xing with venomous hatred, as if intent on devouring him alive.

The Zhong Kui shadow’s eyes glowed red; he swung his sword fiercely, and instantly a cold wind swept through the room, shadows flickering.

“What sinister magic,” muttered Old Liao, fiddling with his compass. The silver pointer spun wildly, as if it might fly off at any moment.

The four ghostly figures in the mirror began to move.

Some walked, some crawled, drawing closer to the mirror’s surface until they seemed to step out from the world within.

The four spirits slowly approached Sun Xing, who sat at the bedside. Blood continued to ooze from their wounds, black-red liquid pouring from their seven orifices, dripping onto the rosewood floor and leaving horrifying crimson footprints.

All their movements converged on one direction: Sun Xing at the bedside.

The Zhong Kui specter still swung his sword behind Sun Xing, chanting what sounded like Daoist incantations. I glanced at Old Liao, whose brows were tightly knit. He said nothing, signaling me to watch and wait.

The four figures drew ever closer to Sun Xing. At this moment, Xia Liang screamed and waved her arms frantically to keep them away from her beloved.

She struck out desperately, even lunging at the female ghost without hands.

But events did not unfold as she wished. The instant she touched the ghost, she lost her balance and fell hard to the ground.

Xia Liang had passed through the moving ghost, landing in a daze.

The four spirits reached Sun Xing, encircling him.

“If you have grievances, repay them; if you have enmity, avenge it. Cause and effect shall bring you to reincarnation.” The specter behind Sun Xing murmured. The four ghosts seemed to understand, and rushed at Sun Xing.

A series of piercing, heart-rending screams echoed above the house—not from Sun Xing, but from the ghosts themselves.

On closer look, the moment these fierce ghosts touched Sun Xing, the black swastika on his back emitted a gleaming black light, as if searing their spiritual bodies.

Yet the burning did not halt their advance; they pressed their entire forms against Sun Xing, gradually enveloping him completely.

“What do you want from me! I don’t know anything! Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me!” Sun Xing’s voice, filled with terror and despair, came from beneath the ghosts, while the black glow emanating from his body slowly faded. Where the light met the ghosts, black smoke rose like evaporated liquid, their bodies growing dim, wounds radiating with black light.

“It seems these ghosts have suffered greatly. They’d rather damage their own spirit than let Sun Xing go unpunished,” Old Liao whispered, eyes wide.

“Axing! Don’t!” Ah Hao, hearing this, rushed forward, shouting to his brother’s soul, now robbed of its face.

The male ghost hesitated, but did not stop, continuing to envelop Sun Xing.

With a gruesome sound, the armless female ghost suddenly tore off Sun Xing’s arms!

Then came his legs, his brain, and finally his face…

The whole scene was grotesque. Xia Liang sat limply, spirit shattered, and even we three were terrified by the horror unfolding.

Some ghosts clutched the torn arms, others the legs, some the face. Strangely, not a drop of blood flowed from Sun Xing’s wounds.

Not a single drop; his body resembled a doll torn apart, lacking any trace of a bloody crime scene.

The ghosts’ movements slowed. Sun Xing’s body was left with only his torso, his face a mangled piece of flesh.

The head and torso convulsed wildly on the bed, beginning to rot before our eyes, soon reeking foully.

“Sun Xing” was now completely rigid.

This transformation of the four spirits, then, was finally broken.

“Karma has been repaid; little ghosts, it is time to enter the cycle.” The Zhong Kui specter patted the jade gourd on his waist, signaling the spirits to reincarnate.

Three figures—two women, one man—instantly turned to wisps of smoke and flew into the gourd. The severed parts of Sun Xing dropped to the floor with a heavy thud.

Yet Sun Xing’s true spirit did not move.

He grasped his own face, slowly turning to face Ah Hao.

His face was covered with two semicircular scars, as if someone had used a special tool to carve them, peeling away the skin, leaving his visage grotesque and terrifying.

But his eyes glistened with tears, trickling down the ruined flesh.

“Brother, now that I’m this ugly, can I become a corpse handler?”

All were silent, save for Ah Hao, who wept bitterly with his face in his hands.

“Let’s go home!” Ah Hao drew a small golden bell from his pocket, reaching out to his brother.

“You would interfere with the work of the underworld messenger? Attempt to steal a soul?” Suddenly, the phantom roared, raising the sword of blue steel to strike at Ah Hao.

Sun Xing’s spirit stretched out before him, blocking the sword’s light.

“Brother, my life ends here. In the next one, we shall be brothers again.” His translucent body shielded Ah Hao, who, hearing these words, tried to rush the sword’s glow to reclaim his brother’s soul, but Old Liao pulled him back.

“You too belong to the world of shadows. Submit to fate.”

Ah Hao collapsed to the floor, staring as his brother’s form faded. Sun Xing turned, gave Ah Hao a brilliant smile, then dissolved into smoke, flying straight into Zhong Kui’s jade gourd.

With Sun Xing’s soul in the gourd, the phantom trembled slightly.

With a thunderous crash, the phantom shattered into dust.

The powder sparkled in the light, drifting about the room, leaving us stunned and the corpse fragments scattered on the floor.

Old Liao and I looked at each other; Xia Liang and Ah Hao were both crying uncontrollably.

I stared at the remains, at a loss.

“What are we supposed to do with these? It’s terrifying—looks exactly like a murder scene.”

Old Liao did not answer, leaning against the door, smoking.

None of us noticed Xia Liang quietly taking out her phone and dialing.

“Hello, police… My boyfriend is dead… the address is…”