```
After hypothesizing the origins and developnt of the incident, Yan Junze wrapped the statue in multiple layers and secured it with a plastic bag before placing it in his backpack. He set the backpack by the bedside and then returned to bed to sleep.
Perhaps due to exhaustion, he still had a good night’s sleep during his last night at Rock.
Although he had gone to bed late, Yan Junze didn’t wake up until the first light of dawn, when his cell phone alarm annoyed him awake.
The first early morning bus, number 803, headed to the center of Shuntian City departs around 6:40 AM. This is an exceptionally early bus; even the couple living upstairs who rush to work in the morning don’t take it—they opt for the 7:30 AM bus.
Yan Junze’s aim was to interact with as few people as possible, which is why he chose the first bus.
He had packed his things in advance. After quickly getting up and washing up, he slung his backpack over his shoulder and left.
He left the rental keys in a flowerpot at the landlord’s doorway without disturbing anyone, then turned and departed.
Arriving at the bus stop for the 803, the early bus had not yet arrived.
It was now 6:44 AM, but the sky was already bright.
Yan Junze reckoned that the 803 bus would take less than ten minutes to arrive at Rock after starting from the first station, as it was only the third stop from there.
The bus started at 6:40 AM, and he was confident he could catch it.
True enough, right at 6:50 AM, he saw bus 803 slowly driving from the end of the road.
He stopped in front of it, paid the fare, and boarded; aside from a middle-aged driver, there were no other passengers.
This was perfect—catching the bus early turned it into his private ride.
Yan Junze found a seat towards the back, put his backpack on the adjacent chair, propped his hand as a pillow, and made himself comfortable.
He took out his phone to browse the news. The bus started moving rhythmically, swaying gently, and Yan Junze quickly felt drowsy. Stay tuned for updates on empire
Today’s lack of sleep didn’t help, and Yan Junze turned off his phone and simply held it in his hand as he closed his eyes.
Images of the Back-faced Woman, Ke’er, Long-tongued Zhenzhen, and Resentful Granny intermittently flashed through his mind.
Apart from Long-tongued Zhenzhen, the other ghosts had left too deep an impression on him; now, whenever he had a mont of rest, their images uncontrollably appeared in his thoughts.
He was tired, but sleep didn’t co easily.
The 803 bus proceeded with its stops, and at one of them, a young man got on.
This young man, hands in his pockets, imdiately took the seat closest to the driver upon entering.
Yan Junze didn’t pay much attention. His posture was upright, reminiscent of a primary school student listening attentively in class.
Half-awake, Yan Junze opened his eyes and stared at the back of the young man’s head, his thoughts drifting to that crucial detail that had been bothering him these past few days, sothing he just couldn’t rember.
It seed vitally important, a detail triggered in a mont of conversation with Zhang Xiaomo; however, it was interrupted by another matter and buried beneath other thoughts, never resurfacing.
Sotis, the harder one tries to recall sothing—like urgently searching for an item at ho—the more elusive it becos at the mont it’s needed.
Then unexpectedly, on so unremarkable day, the once elusive item will suddenly appear before your eyes, effortlessly found.
At this mont, as Yan Junze watched the young man seated not far from the driver, he finally grasped the idea that last ti had been buried deep in his thoughts.
He rembered, when he found out that Landlord Lin Dong had been affected by Spirit-Splitting from Resentful Granny, Zhang Xiaomo had said sothing like this: "Lin Dong must have been Spirit-Split just under 48 hours ago; later tonight I’ll go next door, rescue him, and see if Granny Ren is there."
At that mont, Yan Junze had a thought, but it was swept away by Zhang Xiaomo’s introduction of the Strangeness Interferer—no, not that—the Spirit Destroying Device, which diverted his attention and prevented the thought from developing into a coherent idea.
Now at last, Yan Junze had the realization.
If Zhang Xiaomo said that Lin Dong must have been Spirit-Split less than 48 hours ago and that they could rescue him later, does that an if it had been over 48 hours, there would be no hope for rescue?
If that were true?
Yan Junze abruptly shivered and grabbed his phone. No matter how early it was or whether the other party had woken up, he imdiately dialed Zhang Xiaomo’s number.
...
```
Tianng District, Sealed City.
Within the courtyard of a temple.
Normally, this place called Thunder King Temple would have already attracted an endless stream of pilgrims, and the daily inco from incense offerings alone was no less than a seven-figure sum.
However, at this mont, there was not a single pilgrim in the entire temple courtyard, only one person standing.
With shoulder-length short hair, wearing a pure white cartoon short-sleeved T-shirt, casual jeans, and white sh sneakers, Zhang Xiaomo stood alone with a knife in hand, in the middle of the courtyard, next to the gigantic incense burner.
Inside the incense burner, which was previously unceasing with burning incense, there was now a pile of cold ashes, without the slightest scent of incense or candles.
This ti, the cartoon pattern on Zhang Xiaomo’s chest was switched to HelloKitty, but her expression seed as usual, and she had just pulled the dagger out from the chest of an old monk who had fallen to the ground.
The body of the old monk was gradually disappearing, and after a mont, only a transparent shadow could be seen.
Not far from the old monk, on the steps below, lay the body of a young monk, which was also becoming more and more faint, now barely visible.
And in the main hall, another body had long since vanished without a trace.
"Three high-level Wandering Spirits, dealt with!"
Having put away her magnetic knife, Zhang Xiaomo earnestly made a note in her notebook. However, her brows furrowed slightly as she wrote.
Seconds later, she capped her pen and tucked it into her notebook, muttering to herself, "Why is it like this?"
After her words fell, Zhang Xiaomo took out her phone and called her ntor, who was with the exorcist team in Huaying District of the Great Capital of Huaying.
She was well aware that her ntor was an early riser and would already be awake at this ti, so she wouldn’t be disturbing him.
"Xiaomo." A voice with a hint of vicissitude rang out.
"ntor, I have a question."
Zhang Xiaomo always cut to the chase when speaking with her ntor. Her straightforwardness was well known among the people in the Supernatural Incidents unit, so it seed the ntor didn’t mind.
"Speak."
"I’ve just slain three malevolent Wandering Spirits, high-level ones," said Zhang Xiaomo. "It took quite an effort, so I recorded it. But considering the Evil Spirits I’ve slain these past few days, I suddenly have a doubt. I want to know, precisely speaking, how many high-level Wandering Spirits would equal one Sculpting Spirit?"
"That... There’s no comparability," the voice from the phone responded, "In terms of the strength of Evil Spirits, one Sculpting Spirit would be roughly equivalent to around ten high-level Wandering Spirits. However, this is without considering the intervention and Spirit-Splitting tendencies of the Sculpting Spirit."
Zhang Xiaomo said, "So, if we take everything into account, does the strength of a Sculpting Spirit exceed that of ten high-level Wandering Spirits?"
"Definitely more than that." The ntor paused for a mont, then said, "Are you... hmm, let check your task records."
After a few seconds, his voice ca through again: "A Semi-Sculpting Spirit? You killed one two days ago? Hmm, you are capable of handling that, how did it feel?"
"The feeling..." Zhang Xiaomo’s foreboding feeling grew stronger at this mont, "I haven’t dealt with Semi-Sculpting Spirits before, but it felt... barely different from the three high-level Wandering Spirits I’ve just killed!"
There was silence on the other end of the phone, followed by the ntor’s voice: "With your ability, fully killing a Semi-Sculpting Spirit must have been difficult. Now... co back imdiately!"
"ntor..."
Zhang Xiaomo hadn’t finished speaking when suddenly her phone signaled another call waiting to be answered.
Glancing at the phone screen, Zhang Xiaomo’s pupils narrowed, and without further conversation with her ntor, she imdiately switched calls.
"Zhang Xiaomo, don’t ask anything, just listen to first!" It was the voice of Yan Junze, "Answer imdiately, what happens to a person who has been inflicted by Spirit-Splitting for more than 48 hours?"
Zhang Xiaomo was taken aback and replied, "They can never be saved. Why are you asking this, where are you? Right now you must..."
Her words were interrupted by Yan Junze.
"There’s no ti, guess who I saw."
"Who?"
"Lv Xin."
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