Chapter 10: The Birthday Feast

At that moment, Li Zhuiyuan felt as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his head, soaking him to the bone.

In a daze, it was like his soul had been scared right out of his body—and the only reason it hadn’t fully escaped was because this wasn’t the real world. His body wasn’t actually here.

“Run!”

He grabbed Qin Li’s hand and bolted.

But they hadn’t made it far when the old grannies who had been scrubbing dishes with sand earlier now stood in a line ahead, blocking their way.

Their seemingly frail and aged bodies didn’t budge no matter how hard Li Zhuiyuan pushed or rammed into them.

In despair, the only thought in Li Zhuiyuan’s head was: No wonder Great-Grandpa’s paper effigies business did so well. The craftsmanship and materials really are top-notch.

Honestly, forcing his way through was hopeless to begin with—he was too young, had no strength, and didn’t know any of Great-Grandpa’s or Liu Jinxia’s techniques.

He had thought he could avoid the whole mess by staying hidden, and he’d nearly succeeded—until the last second, when everything fell apart.

Turning around, he faced the cat-faced granny, forcing himself to stay calm while rapidly combing through everything he’d read, trying to recall anything that might help.

Luckily, there wasn’t much to search through. He had only read one book, an entry-level encyclopedia at that—and only four volumes of it.

Truly, you never realize how little you’ve read until you need it. Still, he had no choice but to make do with what he had.

And surprisingly, he found something that seemed to match.

In volume three, entry twelve of The Records of Strange Happenings in the Martial World, there was mention of a specific type of Dead Sinker—called a corpse fiend.

It was a bizarre creature, born when someone full of deep resentment drowned and their corpse, still floating in the water, happened to come into contact with the body of a foul, tainted animal. The two merged, and what resulted was neither human nor beast, neither living nor dead—a creature of nightmares.

Such fiends possessed strange powers. The book gave one example from the Changbai Mountains in the northeast—a fusion of a person and a weasel spirit. It could conjure mind-clouding fogs and manipulate people’s thoughts, but was eventually “destroyed by the righteous path.”

Li Zhuiyuan didn’t know what exactly counted as the “righteous path,” and he didn’t feel the need to. Every single entry in the book ended with the same phrase: “destroyed by the righteous path.”

Whether they were actually destroyed, and by whom—monks, priests, lamas, sorcerers—it didn’t matter. The author seemed to treat “destroyed by the righteous path” as a kind of signature sign-off.

The cat-faced granny in front of him was a lot like one of those corpse fiends.

But to really count, the death had to happen in a river. If they’d died elsewhere, it didn’t qualify as a Dead Sinker and wasn’t included in The Records of Strange Happenings.

The problem was, this granny’s clothes were spotless, her white hair fluffy and dry. She didn’t look like a water ghost at all. Someone like Little Oriole, dripping wet from head to toe—that was the textbook example.

Li Zhuiyuan had to admit… this might be out of his league.

The cat-faced granny pulled her head back and bent down to pick up a piece of tiger skin meat and a chicken drumstick from the ground.

It was these bits of food that had tipped her off—something wasn’t right. It didn’t fit her internal logic of how the world should work.

“Such good food… how could anyone waste it like this? That’s just asking for…”

She cut herself off before finishing the sentence. Clearly, even in her current form, those final words were taboo.

She opened her mouth and, without minding the dirt, stuffed the meat and drumstick in. She chewed with deep, almost blissful satisfaction.

“If only… back then… I’d had a bowl of corn gruel. Just one.”

In her eyes was the glint of memory. Back when she’d curled up in bed, staring at a tightly shut door, that simple food had been her greatest longing—for a long time, even a wild hope.

But in the end, she hadn’t even gotten a single grain of rice, a single drop of water.

She looked at Li Zhuiyuan again, but before she could speak, he quickly blurted out:

“Hello, Grandma. Happy birthday.”

The cat-faced granny: “…”

That birthday greeting left even the corpse fiend speechless.

After a long pause, she extended her hand toward him.

Li Zhuiyuan noticed the back of her hand was covered in fine hair, and her nails were long and sharp.

He didn’t flinch, letting her hand touch his face.

That same ice-pack sensation returned—the exact same one he’d felt in Liu Jinxia’s main hall.

“Grandma’s noticed something,” she said. “You’re not just a good-looking little guy, you’ve got a sharp mind too.

“That day, when my eldest son was about to leave, you deliberately got him to wash his hands next to you so Grandma could leave you and go back to him. Isn’t that right?”

“I was just afraid Grandma would forget the way home.”

“Really?”

“Also thought you’d be more used to him carrying you.”

“No…” Her finger slid down to his lips. “Now I prefer you to carry me, little guy.”

Then she turned to look at Qin Li behind him. “What a pretty little girl.”

Li Zhuiyuan quickly interjected, “She’s got brain issues. Can’t talk. Bad temper, too—bites people all the time.”

“Oh? That so? No wonder when I saw her during the day, she just sat there like a statue. Such a shame. Pretty little girl like that…”

Then her eyes were back on Li Zhuiyuan. “Little guy, Grandma really likes you. Stay with me for a while, won’t you?”

“You’ve already got—” He caught himself just in time and switched mid-sentence. “Sure, I’ll stay with Grandma.”

He’d almost said, “Don’t you already have a grandson?” But that would’ve been digging his own grave.

The cat-faced granny nodded with a smile, then turned to the others and said, “You’ve all worked hard. Come, let’s eat together.”

In local tradition, after the guests finished the first and second rounds, a table or two would be set for the cooks, helpers, and family.

“Alright, Old Granny,” said the chef, who, along with the other grannies, seemed to come back to life. They began tidying up and getting ready to eat.

“You too, little guy,” she added.

Then she turned and walked out of the kitchen. Li Zhuiyuan noticed her footprints were wet, and the cloth shoes on her feet were a deep, saturated color, squishing with every step—like they were soaked.

Did he guess right after all?

“Come on, little guy, time to eat,” said the chef, grabbing his hand and snapping him out of his thoughts.

Li Zhuiyuan noticed none of the grannies went after Qin Li. Clearly, the cat-faced granny wasn’t interested in a girl with “brain issues.” He let go of Qin Li’s hand and told her:

“You go first—no, just stay here. Don’t move.”

He didn’t know where she’d go anyway. Better to keep her in the kitchen where it was safer. The one the old granny wanted was him.

As he was led out of the kitchen, the once-crowded yard was now deathly silent.

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