The old fortune teller also wore a helpless expression. If it were other matters, there might still be room for maneuver.
However, these people clearly bore the traces of lingering Yin energy on their faces. The fact that such obvious lingering Yin energy could be left on the faces of living people indicated that this evil spirit was no ordinary one. With his own cultivation, the old fortune teller was unable to deal with it.
If he were to forcibly confront it, he might not save the people and instead get himself into trouble.
Yet, he couldn't resist Wang Fugui's persistent pleading and could only agree to try first, without any certainty of resolving the problem.
Wang Fugui thanked him profusely, promising a satisfactory red envelope regardless of whether the matter was resolved or not.
To this, the old fortune teller said nothing, merely stating that they would see what happened that evening.
Upon hearing that they might be the next to die, the faces of those who had gone to the back mountain immediately turned green.
At noon, they had claimed they took nothing, but now they had confessed to taking what they had, even producing the gold ingots and placing them on the table.
Looking at the small pile of gold ingots before him, Wang Fugui was so furious that he almost lunged to hit them, but he was stopped by the old fortune teller.
"You only took these things, nothing else?" the old fortune teller asked, frowning at the people whose faces were etched with fear.
"We didn't take anything else, only these gold ingots. And we had agreed that each person would only take one."
The old fortune teller walked up to the pile of gold ingots, casually picked one up, weighed it in his hand, and then tossed it back.
"If you only took these things, normally people wouldn't want your lives. You found a dwelling for it, and even if the reward was a bit excessive, it would at most torment you for a few days. Now it seems it wants to fight you until one side dies. Think carefully, did you take anything else, or did you disrespect its remains?"
At the old fortune teller's question, everyone present frowned and recalled meticulously what they had done during the burial.
"Um, does peeing in front of the coffin count?"
Suddenly, a voice rang out from the crowd.
Everyone turned their gaze towards him. It was the village's Skinny Monkey, whose surname was Hou, but because he was thin and small, everyone called him Skinny Monkey.
Upon hearing this, the old fortune teller's expression changed slightly. "You urinated on someone's coffin?"
This could be a big or small matter. Even if you urinated on a living person's roof, they wouldn't let it go, let alone an ancient corpse with cultivation.
"It wasn't me who peed, it was Zhao the Cripple. He was the last one to take things out of the coffin. As he was leaving, he suddenly said he needed to pee, walked five or six steps, and then just started. We even tried to stop him."
"Yes, now that Skinny Monkey mentioned it, I remember too. There was such a moment. At that time, Uncle Zhao even cursed him, calling him a lazy donkey whose dung and pee were too much when starting work."
"..."
Listening to the villagers' chatter, Wang Fugui saw the old fortune teller's face darken and roared, "I told you to bury the coffin, who told you to open it and take things out? Now that someone is coming for you, you're scared. What can I say about you?"
Facing the village chief Wang Gui's reprimand, no one dared to utter a sound. Everyone hung their heads, awaiting how the matter would unfold.
Wang Fugui sighed inwardly. Regardless, he had arranged for them to do this, and furthermore, the deceased had died in his home. He had to give the surviving villagers an explanation no matter what.
"Old fortune teller, how should this matter be handled?"
The old fortune teller sighed deeply. "I can't say for sure. We can only wait for them to come and see how they want to handle it. I will try my best to reason with it."
As soon as the old fortune teller finished speaking, everyone present exchanged wary glances, their expressions filled with fear.
Villages were inherently superstitious, but it was only "heard" or "rumored." Now, they were to witness it firsthand. To say they weren't afraid would be a lie.
Skinny Monkey, with a fearful expression, asked, "Can I not watch? I'm naturally timid, I'm afraid that later..."
Skinny Monkey's words instantly enraged Wang Fugui. "What were you doing before? Now you're scared? When you were taking the other person's things, weren't you scared? If you're scared, you'd better stand firm. I'm telling you, if this matter isn't handled properly, don't think only you will die; even your children and wives won't escape."
Upon hearing this, everyone quickly cursed Skinny Monkey for being cowardly, stating that even if they died, they couldn't let their wives and children suffer misfortune.
Skinny Monkey's face turned red with anger from the scolding, but he remained silent, accepting his misfortune.
Under the old fortune teller's arrangement, the villagers gathered items from their respective households to deal with the evil spirit.
On a square table, a live rooster was placed. Three incense sticks were inserted into an incense burner, along with a knife that the old fortune teller carried with him.
The rooster belonged to Wang Fugui's household and had been raised for at least five or six years. The old fortune teller used some method, and when the rooster was placed on the table, it didn't run. Its eyes darted around, constantly observing its surroundings.
"Old fortune teller, aren't these preparations a bit too simple?" Seeing the simplicity of the items prepared by the old fortune teller, Wang Fugui felt a bit worried, thinking that dealing with it this way seemed rather rudimentary.
Upon hearing this, the old fortune teller rolled his eyes at Wang Fugui. "What are you thinking? We're not fighting it directly. We just want to talk to it and see what it wants."
Time passed quickly, and it was almost the hour of the rat.
The atmosphere in the old house was exceptionally oppressive. In the courtyard, besides the men who had gone to the back mountain and the old fortune teller, even Wang Fugui was sent back inside, with instructions not to come out regardless of what happened.
As the hour of the rat struck, a wind began to blow, making the windows rattle noisily.
The rooster, which had been quietly perched on the table, fluffed its feathers and its claws tapped restlessly on the table, appearing uneasy.
"It's here."
The three incense sticks, inserted into the hundred-family rice, ignited on their own without being lit. The incense smoke flickered as if someone were breathing.
And the knife placed on the table suddenly stood upright, tumbling in the air as if someone were playing with it.
Under the old fortune teller's anxious gaze, the knife then settled steadily on the table.
This brought a sigh of relief to the old fortune teller, who had been staring intently at the knife.
Although the items the old fortune teller had placed on the square table were simple, they were all significant.
The rooster was to detect whether the evil spirit harbored killing intent and was determined to fight to the death. If it had killing intent, the rooster would naturally puff up its feathers and fight the evil spirit.
This was because rooster's blood was a treasure against evil spirits, especially that of roosters raised for many years.
The incense offered by the hundred-family rice signified whether there was a possibility of negotiation. If negotiation was possible, it would eat the incense; otherwise, it would directly overturn it.
And the final knife represented "Dao," also indicating the old fortune teller's identity as a Taoist, hoping the evil spirit would show some respect.
"May I know which divine being has arrived? Please show yourself for a discussion."