Chapter Seventy-Three: Is There a Monster Beneath the Pond?

Fu Yang nodded.

At present, he was still half a novice, knowing too little; matters like this were best left to the professionals.

Not long after, Ah Huang arrived, swaggering as ever—moving lazily, not at all like a Daoist priest, but more like some frivolous young master.

The sight irked Fu Yang for no reason; he strode over and, like yanking a stray dog, grabbed Ah Huang by the collar and dragged him over.

“Ouch, what the hell, Yang! Let go, let go! Damn it—”

Dragged over in such an undignified manner, stumbling all the way to the scene, Ah Huang quieted immediately upon seeing the strange human-skin skeleton. He looked genuinely shocked.

“Hurry up and see what’s going on here. Is it connected to the Jiangda Forest incident? Could it be the work of that demon Daoist, Liu Mengshu?”

Fu Yang urged him, giving him a nudge with his foot for good measure.

“You damned pervert!”

Ah Huang rubbed his backside, took a few steps forward, and leaned in to inspect the human-skin skeleton.

Squatting beside it, he checked for injuries but found none. It seemed he would have to resort to Daoist arts.

“Hasten as the law commands! May the Three Pure Ones grant me power! With my eyes, I see evil!”

He recited the incantation, pressed his index and middle fingers together while curling the others, then touched the corners of his eyes, stretching them into narrow slits. He scanned the skeleton and the surrounding area.

Through Ah Huang’s altered vision, the scenery looked like a CT scan: silhouettes in black and gray. Except, at the back of the skeleton’s neck, there was a small red dot!

“There it is!”

Quickly, he used his peachwood sword to turn the skeleton over, exposing its back.

Examining it more closely, he saw a tiny wound precisely at that spot—barely bigger than a needle hole. No wonder conventional forensic methods had missed it outdoors!

“It really is the work of something sinister!”

Ah Huang thought to himself. He surveyed the vicinity for further clues.

And indeed, there was more—a glistening trail, almost like saliva, stretched from beneath the skeleton, following the path to the left. It crossed the low shrubbery and vanished into a murky pond.

Ah Huang let out a long breath, closed his eyes, and rubbed them hard.

Fu Yang asked, “Did you find anything? Spill it, don’t keep us in suspense.”

He nodded and shared his findings.

Zhao Shanshan quickly ordered the forensic expert to examine the back of the skeleton’s neck more closely. With the aid of a high-powered magnifier, they finally spotted a wound no larger than a needle prick.

The forensic expert clicked his tongue in amazement, speculating if the victim’s blood and organs had been extracted with a syringe.

Ah Huang rolled his eyes dramatically.

“It’s definitely some evil force at work. The trail leads from the small pond over there. Let’s go check it out.”

Fu Yang wondered, why was it always lakes? Why did supernatural events seem to have an issue with water?

The three of them stepped over the shrubs and reached the edge of the pond.

To call it a lake was generous—it was more like a modest rectangular pool, no larger than two hundred square meters. The water was turbid, almost opaque. There was a sign nearby: “Danger—Deep Water,” and beneath the words, a mark showing 1.9 meters.

Ah Huang pointed to a patch of disturbed earth at the pond’s edge.

“This is it. With my evil-seeing technique, I can spot a glistening, transparent line—like a snail’s trail. It’s likely the same substance as the slime on the skeleton.”

“So, it’s probably not a ghost then? If a vengeful spirit had killed, it wouldn’t have left such traces…”

Ah Huang clapped Fu Yang on the shoulder, his tone earnest. “Good thinking, kid, you’re learning fast with me! Not a ghost—a demon is far more likely.”

Zhao Shanshan was startled. “You mean there’s a demon under this pond?”

She’d heard Fu Yang mention before a kind of demon called ‘Grievous Charm’, formed from the hair of countless women.

“In that case, Shanshan, do the police have the authority to drain this pond? If it is a demon, draining it in broad daylight might force it out!”

Fu Yang suggested. He’d estimated earlier that the pond held little water; with a few high-powered pumps, it could be emptied in under two hours.

“Alright! I’ll contact the botanical garden management and arrange it. I’d like to see for myself what’s lurking in this pond!”

With that, Zhao Shanshan moved to coordinate tasks.

Fu Yang went to check on Qin Mei. She looked a little better, though still pale, clutching her clothes tightly.

Seeing her so unwell, Fu Yang couldn’t bring himself to act nonchalant. He sighed. “Qin Mei, you really shouldn’t have come. And Shanshan should’ve known better… Should I take you back first?”

Qin Mei’s brows were gently furrowed. Compared to her usual alluring, commanding air, she now looked delicate and pitiable.

She didn’t argue, simply nodded softly.

But she asked, worried, “If you leave, won’t the police…”

“It’s fine. They’ll be busy draining the pond for a while yet. I’ll take you back to your dorm and return.”

So Fu Yang hailed a cab and took Qin Mei back to campus, making sure she got inside before he returned to the botanical garden to watch the workers.

To prevent whatever demon might be lurking from escaping through the pump hoses, Ah Huang instructed Zhao Shanshan to have the workers place wire mesh with holes beneath each pump outlet.

On the dry edges of the mesh, where water wouldn’t reach, Ah Huang affixed a talisman.

This way, even if the demon sensed something amiss and tried to escape through the pipes, it would be blocked by the mesh and trapped by the talisman’s power.

Everything in place, all that remained was for the powerful pumps to drain the pond.

Zhao Shanshan stood at the water’s edge, eyes fixed on the receding, muddy surface, visibly tense.

Fu Yang tried to reassure her. “What’s there to be afraid of? From what Ah Huang says, this shouldn’t be a particularly powerful demon. It’s nothing compared to what we’ve faced before.”

Zhao Shanshan nodded, unconsciously edging closer to him. Close enough that, through their clothes, their arms touched—a soft, yielding sensation.

Damn… I’m going to die at this rate. Now’s not the time to get distracted.

Fu Yang muttered inwardly, forcing himself to focus on the pond.

An hour later, only a shallow layer of water remained.

Some of the larger fish, their backs exposed, twisted in the dwindling pool, splashing about.