I Became a Witch in a World Full of Urban Legends

Chapter 575: She Said She Was the Miracle

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A little past nine in the evening, the Jin Opera Theater on Sleepless Street was bustling with a performance in full swing. The sounds of traditional opera music drifted from the front stage. In a prop room backstage, a wiry old man in worn clothes sat in a wheelchair, a drink in his left hand, a cigarette in his right. His eyes were hazy with intoxication, lost in enjoyment as he swayed his head to the rhythm of the opera. “Creak—!”

The door to the prop room was pushed open from the outside with a soft sound. A petite girl with round-rimmed glasses slipped in through the slightly opened gap and stopped right in front of the old man. Playfully, she tugged at his beard. “Third Grandpa!”

The old man winced, his face twitching slightly, but upon seeing it was Lin Nian, he broke into a smile. “Oh, it’s Little Nian! Are you officially taking over your grandfather’s role now?”

“Are you making fun of me? How could I ever compare to my grandpa?” Lin Nian pouted. As she spoke, she pulled a liquor bottle wrapped in newspaper from her small bag and held it out to him. “Here! This is for you, as a token of respect.”

The old man took the bottle, peeled back a tiny corner of the newspaper to glance at it, and nodded with satisfaction. “Hey, good stuff. You’re a thoughtful girl.”

He paused, then shifted his tone and asked directly, “Alright, what do you want to ask this time? I suspect you didn’t come here just to visit this old wreck of a man, did you?”

Seeing her little scheme exposed, Lin Nian curled her lip. “Then I’ll just be straightforward!”

With that, she recounted Hu Chuan’s information and the whole story to the old man. “Can you remember the specifics of the fake identity you helped him forge?”

At the end, Lin Nian added, “It would be even better if you could recall where he went using that forged identity.”

After hearing Lin Nian’s words, the old man put down the liquor bottle, stubbed out his cigarette, straightened up in his wheelchair, and stared at her with a grave expression, silent for a few seconds. “Little Nian, how much did you say that she-devil paid you again?”

“20.”

The old man shook his head. “Too little!”

“Was it?” Lin Nian asked, surprised. “But for this type of intel, isn’t it usually…”

“You’re mistaken!” the old man interrupted. “That guy is no ordinary person or low-level psychic.”

As he spoke, he recalled the scene from when he first met Hu Chuan four years ago. His murky, aged eyes trembled, seemingly with fear. Noticing the shift in the old man’s eyes, Lin Nian frowned. Even Third Grandpa was afraid of that guy? Then it really was too little! The price for intel on a Class B Psychic or haunting was usually five times that of Class C and below. If the target’s psychic energy fluctuation level reached Class A, the price would skyrocket a hundredfold. As for catastrophe-class…

These information brokers, even if they stumbled upon intel about a catastrophe-class entity, usually wouldn’t dare speak of it—unless someone offered payment worth risking their life for. After all, at the catastrophe class, the fundamental nature of psychics and hauntings underwent a subtle shift. Even mentioning their names could trigger a reaction from them. Lin Nian wondered, was the guy Gu Qianqian was investigating Class B, Class A, or a catastrophe? “Little Nian…”

“Hmm?” Hearing the old man’s soft call, Lin Nian snapped back to attention and nodded. “Yes, Third Grandpa, go ahead!”

“Hoo—!” The old man slowly exhaled a stale breath and spoke with deep sincerity. “If you truly want to know, I can only tell you this: the fake identity he used is named Gu He. Don’t dig any deeper than that.”

“Trust me, this single piece of information alone is already worth what that she-devil paid you.”

“Your grandfather and I were brothers who practically shared the same pants growing up. Now that you’ve taken over for him, I can’t just stand by and watch something happen to you. You understand?”

Hearing this, Lin Nian froze. After thinking it through carefully, a wave of fear washed over her. A single name worth 20g of gold as payment… That meant the person Gu Qianqian was investigating had to be at least Class A! Damn, I thought it was strange from the start. Why would a major haunting like her bother investigating a Class C- psychic? Tch, those witch types are just like the rumors say, each one more cunning and deceitful than the last! Lin Nian thought, bowing slightly to the old man. “I understand. Thank you, Third Grandpa. If there’s nothing else, I’ll be going now?”

“Mm, go on.”

Seeing the old man nod, Lin Nian bowed again and hurried out of the prop room. ————

After Lin Nian left, the old man sat quietly for a moment, staring at the closed door. Once he was certain she was long gone, he slowly wheeled his chair over to the corner of the prop room. There, a magnificent theatrical costume hung, made of fine silks and brocades, adorned with pearls and silver. Its colorful patterns were all meticulously hand-embroidered. However, the costume seemed untouched for a while, a thin layer of dust settled upon it. The old man gazed at the dust-laden attire, a look of anguish and struggle surfacing on his face. Unconsciously, tears streamed down his wrinkled cheeks. Outsiders could hardly understand the agony of a young man, obsessed with opera and blessed with rare talent, who was forever barred from the stage due to injuries sustained in the chaos of war. “Little Nian, I’m sorry. To stand on the stage one last time is the final wish of your Third Grandpa’s life…”

“Even if I don’t say it, they’ll find out anyway. They are everywhere, everywhere…”

“Besides, this whole mess was stirred up by Gu Qianqian. Surely, that esteemed one won’t hold it against you…”

The old man’s lips trembled as he muttered to himself, slightly neurotically. Then, he took out his phone and sent a message to a contact saved as “Gu.” After his wrinkled, shaky hands finished sending the message, he turned back to look at the costume, his eyes filled with the image of himself at sixteen, stepping onto the stage for the very first time. This costume was a gift from Hu Chuan. With this costume, he was granted one—and only one—chance to step onto the stage again. And he wanted to save that chance for the very last moment of his life. ————

Leaning against the wall in the dim, damp alley, Fang Ji stared up at the sky. Listening to the constant, faint rustling sounds around him, the light in his eyes gradually dimmed. There’s no way out now, is there? If I can still be saved from this, it would truly be a miracle. Just as he was thinking this, his phone vibrated. Calamity: “Dear user, congratulations! You’ve received a Heaven-Sent Fortune Gift Pack. You’ve accumulated enough assist points. We are contacting an aid worker for you. Estimated arrival time is within five minutes. Please stay where you are while you wait.”

Fang Ji froze. His eyes widened, slowly regaining their light. He instinctively replied: “A miracle really did happen!”

The moment he sent the reply, a soft sound reached his ears. “Squelch—!”

Following the sound, he saw that the ribs of the man beside him had pierced through his skin, unfolding like the ribs of a fan. His entire chest cavity was splayed open, flesh torn apart, internal organs exposed. The next second, Fang Ji watched as the dying man shakily, trembling, rose to his feet. And the faint “crack crack” sounds had now shifted into the man’s skull. Fang Ji’s mind went blank with terror. “!!!” ————

In the alley outside Moyue Pifeng. A miracle? Lu Yibei stared at her phone, reading Fang Ji’s reply. She curled her lip. “Silly kid, where in this world are there miracles? The situation only turned around because I showed up. Wait, am I the miracle?”

Just then, her phone vibrated again. A Little Hamster: “Miss Guide, what do I do? I don’t think I can wait five minutes. That thing is moving! [Video]”

As she swiftly followed the location Fang Ji shared, Lu Yibei quickly skimmed the video. Her eyes widened slightly after watching it. Whoa, what the hell is this thing? An aberrant-type haunting? In the video, the man stood in the dim alley, head hung low, body convulsing. His chest gaped open like a bloody maw, thick, pale mucus stretching and bridging between his organs. His right hand drooped to the ground, its end sprouting a bizarre, shovel-shaped organ. The grotesque and distorted appearance made Lu Yibei feel that there was a very good reason why aberrant-type hauntings perpetually sat at the very bottom of the aesthetic hierarchy.

Calamity: “Dear user, while you’re waiting, I suggest you go to Beta Station and search for a compilation video of [High-Quality Human Oil-Creatures] to watch.”

A Little Hamster: “Can that deal with a haunting?”

Calamity: “No, but if support can’t arrive in time, it can make every second feel like a year, so it’ll feel like you lived a little longer.”

A Little Hamster: “Okay!”

————

Not long after Lu Yibei rapidly left Moyue Pifeng, two figures walked out from the shadows, their forms revealed beneath the streetlight.

“Elder, did you hear what that young lady said just now?” Salih asked in a low voice. “She said that she herself is the miracle…”

Shem pondered for a few seconds, then nodded solemnly. “It looks like this young lady, Wang Buliuxing, is the Holy Son we’ve been searching for.”

Shem felt that his judgment could not possibly be wrong!

They had followed the rich fragrance of the Flower of Miracles on “Miss Wang” all the way here and waited for a long time.

Although the only one who arrived was that chestnut-haired girl, and although the psychic energy fluctuation aura emanating from her was different from Miss Wang’s before, the fragrance of the Flower of Miracles on her had not changed.

That miraculous disguise, along with what she had said, made Shem conclude that she was undoubtedly the long-missing Miracle Holy Son!

There was absolutely no way this could be wrong!

“Finally, we’ve finally found the Holy Son!” Shem exclaimed.

As soon as he finished speaking, he sensed three psychic energy fluctuations rapidly approaching from not far away. Immediately after that, several whooshes of wind sounded, and three black shadows swept over their heads, chasing in the direction “Miss Wang” had left.

“Elder, this…”

“…”

Shem pondered for an instant. A ruthless glint flashed through his eyes, and he said sternly, “Follow them. Observe from the shadows first, and protect the Holy Son depending on the situation!”

“Understood!”

————

Meanwhile, on the tiled roof of an antique-style building somewhere on Sleepless Street.

Huá Sāng expressionlessly broke apart the dried squid in her hand and fed it piece by piece to the mouth of the pure-white stray cat in front of her.

After eating the last shred of squid, the stray cat looked at Huá Sāng and meowed softly. Its eyes were somewhat pitiful and aggrieved.

“Meow~!”

“What?” Huá Sāng frowned. “Don’t even think about scamming me! This is already enough compensation for that hit just now.”

The so-called “that hit” referred to the time she had sent the stray cat flying with a single strike of her ferule.

Earlier in the small park, after “Miss Wang” had intercepted three of her Thousand-Night Paper Cranes in a row, it had nearly driven her insane. After buying materials at Moyue Pifeng, remaking a Thousand-Night Paper Crane, and successfully casting it, she had been following behind all along.

When she passed near this area and saw a black shadow flash by, she threw out her ferule without the slightest hesitation. Then she heard a shrill cat’s cry, and afterward saw the big white cat on the rooftop, its face full of grievance.

At that moment, she realized she had encountered the legendary “scam cat”…

“Meow~ meow~!”

The stray cat kept crying, rolling back and forth, acting cute and spoiled, with absolutely no intention of leaving.

Seeing the big white cat roll over and expose its belly, Huá Sāng’s eyes suddenly lit up. Then she said in a deep voice, “Oh? So you’re a little tomcat!”

“Meow?” The big white cat tilted its head at Huá Sāng.

“You haven’t been neutered yet, have you? Stray cats have to be neutered! Come on, I’ll take you to get your balls snipped?” Huá Sāng said seriously.

As soon as she finished speaking, the big white cat seemed to understand her words. Its fur instantly stood on end, and in a few quick bounds it disappeared without a trace.

These days, there were more and more haunting incidents, and even cats were practically turning into spirits!

“Phew—!”

Watching that white figure vanish into the distance, Huá Sāng let out a sigh of relief, refocused her attention, and prepared to follow the guidance of the Thousand-Night Paper Crane to search for her senior brother.

However, just as she straightened up, a sharp throb came from her temples, and her vision suddenly blurred.

In the distance, the dazzling light of the neon signs seemed to be veiled in a layer of mist, turning before her eyes into patch after patch of mottled color.

She clearly had not exercised strenuously, yet for some reason her breathing grew rapid.

A short while later, the mist before her eyes gradually dispersed, and everything in front of her began to become clear.

Then…

She saw her senior brother.

In her field of vision, Wu Yutang had already become completely unrecognizable, but Huá Sāng recognized the contours of his face, and she also recognized the folding fan in his hand—the fan that had once never left his side for even a moment, but had now fused into one with him.

With a “clang—!” a hum rang out deafeningly, and cold light stabbed at her eyes.

In an instant, an ancient-looking Broken Sword burst into Huá Sāng’s field of vision from a blind spot, then slashed down from above, straight toward Wu Yutang.

Huá Sāng recognized that sword move.

It seemed to be the “Wind Command” recorded in The Diagram of the Gentleman Sword of Taihe, yet there were also some subtle differences. That move was rougher than “Wind Command,” but at the same time, it was much more swift and fierce!

It was as fast as a storm, carving a pale cyan trajectory through the air.

“Pfft—!”

With a muffled sound, Wu Yutang’s right arm, which he had raised to block, along with most of his already completely twisted right chest, was instantly shredded by the fierce sword energy and exploded into a cloud of blood mist.

At the sight, Huá Sāng froze in place.

From her perspective, the image just now felt as if she herself had been holding the Broken Sword, using the sword techniques of the Taihe Gentleman Sword, and slashing at her senior brother, tearing apart his body.

Why was this happening?

Stop, stop now, I’m begging you!

Huá Sāng thought in utter panic, so anxious that tears spun in her eyes.

This was not only because Wu Yutang was in danger.

It was also because that sensation, as though she had personally cut and wounded her senior brother, stimulated her sealed-away memories, making her instantly recall the villagers of Jinhua Village who had died because of her. Her heart felt as if it were being carved by knives, and she lost all composure.

The next moment, as if responding to the intense call in her heart, the scene before her eyes abruptly froze, as though someone had pressed the pause button.

“Roar—!”

An inhuman roar exploded beside her ears.

The scene before her eyes suddenly spun wildly, and then, amid the chaos, like a mirror shattering, the hallucination-like image before her vanished in an instant like smoke.

Huá Sāng looked at the bustling street before her, now restored to normal, and was briefly dazed.

Immediately afterward, her face went deathly pale with a swish. Then, following the direction indicated by the Thousand-Night Paper Crane, she ran forward with all her might.

Huá Sāng suddenly realized that just now, she might have accidentally hurt two people at the same time…

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