Chapter 28: The Wolf Feigns Sleep to Lure Its Prey—A Trap within the Jar!
????Chen Fan stood atop the Wall, his gaze lingering for a mont on Crippled Monkey and the others below before dropping to the Ghostskin Map in his hand. His expression was complex—silent, contemplative.
??This map—the very first waystation he had ever stayed at—had been a gift from the Green-robed Man.
??Tears welled in his eyes, clinging to his lashes and blurring his vision. Even through the haze, he could clearly see: the “waystations” that once glittered across the map like stars had dimd, nine out of ten snuffed out. Only seven or eight lonely points still flickered, defiant in the vast Wasteland.
??Tonight marked the second night of the Rainy Season.
??But—
??In this stretch of the Wasteland, nearly every waystation had fallen.
??Before dusk, Chen Fan had checked the Ghostskin Map one last ti. Back then, there had been twenty-eight waystations—most deep within the Wasteland, too far to retreat, forced to endure the Rainy Season head-on.
??But now...
??The first half of the night wasn’t even over, and already twenty waystations had been wiped out.
??Among them was the “temporary waystation” he’d hastily assembled in the wilds just yesterday. Before leaving, he’d tossed a Ghoststone into the Ghostfire there, planning to return tonight for another hunt. But plans never keep pace with fate; that outpost, too, had been swallowed whole by the Ghost Tide.
??Just then—
??A sudden flash of white swept across the Ghostskin Map. When it faded, another white dot—another waystation—went dark.
??Tonight would be sleepless.
??No one in the camp would find rest.
??He could hardly imagine how the survivors at the other waystations were enduring this night. Just picturing their despair and helplessness made his chest tighten, his breath grow heavy.
??…
??Before long, Crippled Monkey trudged back up the Wall, lugging a large ceramic jar. There were simply too many Ghoststones; the burlap sacks couldn’t hold them all, so he’d gone straight for the jar.
??“Young Master.”
??Crippled Monkey, panting, fished three glowing items from inside his jacket and handed them over. “I counted—four hundred eighty-four Ghoststones, and three Unique Treasures.”
??“Good.”
??Chen Fan quickly scanned the details of the three Unique Treasures, then turned his gaze back to the Gray Mist shrouding the camp.
??The Flesh Maggot Ghosts had retreated.
??But the crisis was far from over. That Female Ghostbeast—the one with the twisted laughter—would surely return.
??Still…
??This ti, he wasn’t afraid. Surviving the onslaught of the Ghostbeast Swarm had left him with a much stronger foundation. He didn’t imdiately use the Ghoststones to strengthen the camp.
??No—he needed to play weak.
??That Female Ghostbeast, hidden in her blood-red Palanquin, was clearly intelligent.
??If she sensed that the camp had grown too strong, she might abandon her vendetta. That wasn’t the outco Chen Fan wanted; killing her would surely yield sothing worthwhile.
??So when the Female Ghostbeast charged into the camp, that would be the mont to instantly reinforce the defenses.
??Let the wolf feign sleep to lure its prey, then close the jar and trap the turtle!
??…
??Ti ticked by.
??The Ghostbeast Swarm had passed, with no sign of returning. Not a single Ghostbeast erged from the Gray Mist. Even for monsters, facing a Flesh Maggot Ghost tide was a near-death ordeal.
??Still, none of them dared to relax.
??Tonight’s Ghost Tide had taught them the true aning of “when the Rainy Season descends, the Ghost Tide runs rampant”—eight simple words, but the despair they carried was suffocating.
??Just then—
??“They’re coming!”
??Crippled Monkey was the first to spot it, his voice low and tense.
??It was already deep into the night. From the Gray Mist, nearly a hundred Ghostbeasts surged forth—faces all too familiar.
??Bamboo Ghostbeasts. Mantis Ghostbeasts. Monkey-Head Ghostbeasts.
??And a Palanquin, borne aloft by four Bamboo Ghostbeasts.
??“Persistent as ever, aren’t they?”
??Chen Fan wiped rain from his face, deliberately feigning ignorance as he lowered the Wall a notch into the ground, luring the Ghostbeasts to charge the camp. The Arrow Towers couldn’t attack Ghostbeasts outside the camp’s boundaries.
??If the enemy refused to enter, there was nothing he could do.
??So he waited—patient as a hunter—for nearly the ti it takes a stick of incense to burn. The Ghostbeasts made no move to attack, standing there in the Gray Mist, silent and motionless as wax statues.
??“…”
??Chen Fan frowned, his voice low. “Xiao Qiu, head outside and pretend to pick up a Ghoststone. Don’t actually take anything—just put on a show. When I tell you to co back, do so imdiately.”
??The four hundred eighty-four Ghoststones Crippled Monkey had gathered were only from the Flesh Maggot Ghosts they’d killed.
??The rest—the Ghostbeast corpses from the initial defense—still lay quietly outside the Wall, just as he’d planned.
??Without hesitation, Xiao Qiu descended the stone steps and walked out, feigning ignorance as he stooped to “dig out” Ghoststones from the corpses. Normally, this would be the perfect opening for the Ghostbeasts to attack—especially with an intelligent Female Ghostbeast leading them.
??Yet—
??As Xiao Qiu stepped beyond the Wall, the Ghostbeasts didn’t charge. Instead, they slowly retreated, lting back into the Gray Mist until they vanished into the Eternal Night.
??Baffled, Xiao Qiu turned to look up at Chen Fan atop the Wall.
??“Co back.”
??Chen Fan sighed. No point wasting any more effort; this Female Ghostbeast was even smarter than he’d thought.
??After all—
??A camp that could withstand the Flesh Maggot Ghost tide needed no further explanation. A re hundred Ghostbeasts wouldn’t suffice, and the Female Ghostbeast knew it. Even when he deliberately exposed a weakness, she made no move—instead, she withdrew.
??Whether she’d given up on revenge, or was plotting sothing slower, he couldn’t tell.
??All he could do was stay vigilant.
??For the rest of the night, not a single Ghostbeast ventured near the camp, nor set foot in the Gray Mist. As terrifying as the Ghostbeast Swarm was, as long as you could survive its initial onslaught, it carved out a temporary safe zone—no other Ghostbeasts would dare approach.
??The next mont—
??The oppressive darkness overhead, thick as molten rock, began to recede like a falling tide, revealing a sky shrouded in endless gray clouds.
??Dawn.
??They’d survived another night.
??…
??Inside the wooden cabin.
??Zhou Mo sat cross-legged by the stove, already changed into dry clothes, carefully writing on a sheet of cowhide parchnt.
??“Today marks the third day since the Rainy Season began.”
??“Not a single death.”
??“Last night, we endured the onslaught of the Flesh Maggot Ghosts, and the probing attack of a high-level Ghostbeast. We survived—barely.”
??He finished writing, then glanced at the wall where he’d drawn thirty circles in ink—one for each day of the Rainy Season. Two of them were already crossed out.
??The Rainy Season lasted thirty days. During this ti, Ghost Tides rampaged, and every day was perilous.
??Once these thirty days passed and winter arrived, things wouldn’t be so hard—at least, not in terms of large-scale Ghost Tides in the Wasteland.
??Two nights down.
??To survive the Rainy Season, twenty-eight days remained.
??Just then—
??The cabin door swung open.
??Zhou Mo scrambled to his feet, setting the parchnt aside. “Station Master.”
??“Mhm.”
??Chen Fan nodded lightly, toweling his rain-soaked hair as he sat by the stove and casually picked up the parchnt from the floor, scanning it.
??“Writing a diary?”
??“Uh… yeah.” Zhou Mo scratched his head, a bit embarrassed. “Just jotting things down for fun.”
??“I don’t usually keep a diary, either.”
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