Chapter 12: Where Did the Dark Aura Come From?

When suddenly asked, Yan Jue froze. Was the danger not entirely resolved?

He quickly recalled their trip. “We brought back some local specialties, as well as some clothes and jewelry Zhiyin liked…”

“A-Qiao, could these be problematic?” Yan Jue asked worriedly.

“Yes. The vengeful spirit didn’t possess her without reason. It required a medium. With its level of cultivation, it couldn’t directly attach to a living body otherwise. Bring out everything she brought back. Check if there’s anything you missed.”

Shen Zhiyin’s room was already in disarray.

“Mother-in-law, please help search,” Yan Jue requested. He was holding Shen Zhiyin, and the others were men—rummaging through a young woman’s belongings would be inappropriate.

“Alright.” Mrs. Shen, now compliant out of fear for her daughter’s safety, obeyed without protest.

Yan Qiao scanned the room with sharp, cold eyes. Mrs. Shen soon gathered everything Shen Zhiyin had brought back for Yan Qiao’s inspection.

After reviewing the items, Yan Qiao shook her head expressionlessly.

The wind outside the window wailed again. Yan Qiao’s gaze shifted to the curtains, where a faded yellow corner caught her attention. She walked over, followed closely by Yan Hao—acting as her loyal bodyguard—and Li Xun, who watched with curiosity.

Yan Qiao pulled out a yellowed, aged painting. The edges were frayed, and the paper brittle. The painting depicted a woman.

“…”

Yan Hao glanced at the woman’s face on the painting, then at his unconscious sister-in-law, and shuddered.

The woman’s makeup matched Shen Zhiyin’s exactly. But the painting clearly depicted someone from a different era—likely the Republican period.

Mr. and Mrs. Shen crowded closer, their faces paling as they realized the eerie resemblance. A chilling dread crept down their spines.

Yan Jue recognized the painting. “This was picked up during a folk ritual at the festival. Zhiyin liked it and brought it back. A-Qiao… is this the cause?”

“Yes. The vengeful spirit is the woman in this painting. It sought a host, and your fiancée’s weak birth chart made her an easy target,” Yan Qiao confirmed.

She pasted a talisman onto the painting, borrowed a flame, and burned it to ashes. Collecting the remnants in yellow paper, she stored them away.

“A-Qiao, is everything settled now?” Yan Jue asked, still anxious.

“For now. Her recovery depends on her own rest.”

“Payment: 6,666 yuan.” Yan Qiao stated flatly.

Yan Hao gaped. “You worked all night and only charged this much?!”

“Rules are rules,” Yan Qiao replied tersely.

Mrs. Shen reluctantly transferred the amount, disgruntled but compliant.

Yan Qiao added, “Avoid cemeteries, gravesites, or hospitals in the future. People with weak birth charts, like your daughter, should never collect stray items. Once she recovers, get another talisman from me.”

Yan Jue nodded solemnly, memorizing every word.

“Let’s go home,” Yan Qiao declared.

Li Xun glanced at his watch—it was past 3 a.m. As they prepared to leave, Mrs. Shen hesitantly suggested, “It’s so late… perhaps stay the night?”

“No,” Yan Qiao refused bluntly.

Yan Jue ignored his mother-in-law’s pleading look. “Rest well when you get back. Thank you, A-Qiao.”

On the drive home, Li Xun broke the silence. “Thank you for protecting me earlier.”

“You’re welcome. If I brought you, I’d ensure your safety,” Yan Qiao replied indifferently.

“Why did it attack me?”

“It sensed a familiar aura in you. It wanted to possess you.”

“Am I… a magnet for such things?” Li Xun frowned.

“Yes. Haven’t you noticed? Constant chills, nightmares, weakness.”

Li Xun nodded grimly.

“Then… where did this dark aura come from?”