Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Man-Eating Horse

I fixed my gaze on the village chief and asked, "Qiushuang, what exactly is going on?"

The village chief replied, "Qiushuang is a vengeful ghost here to collect a debt. That Daoist said she wasn't originally meant to be reincarnated as a human—she was most likely to come back as a horse. Because there were no horses nearby, she ended up reincarnated in the body of a wolf."

"The real trouble started when the she-wolf she inhabited was taken down by the Guo family. Most hunters won't kill a pregnant wild animal, but the Guos were infamous for slaughtering beasts that couldn't reproduce."

"When a pregnant animal is beaten to death, it carries a terrible resentment. And the Guo family had four or five female ghosts lingering about, all killed for failing to bear children—so you can imagine the level of malice there! Those vengeful spirits, seeking revenge, dragged Qiushuang into reincarnation, and what she gave birth to was essentially a ghost fetus."

At this point, I immediately pressed, "So, is Qiushuang now a living being or a ghost? Does she have a grudge against your village?"

The village chief opened his mouth, hesitated, and after a long sigh finally admitted, "Qiushuang is a ghost. And she does bear a grudge against the village. Back when the Guo family died out, Qiushuang hadn't yet turned into a malicious spirit. Several times, villagers spotted her on the mountain, but she never hurt anyone."

"Later, when a family's child went missing, everyone assumed Qiushuang had eaten the child. They all went up the mountain, cornered her at the old Guo's lookout, and beat her to death. Afterward, the missing child reappeared—turns out he'd just fallen asleep in a cornstack, exhausted from playing."

"Realizing they had wronged Qiushuang, the villagers arranged a burial for her. Those carrying her body said she'd been beaten so badly that more than half her bones were broken, her spine snapped—it must have been agonizing. No one expected that a few days after her death, Qiushuang would come back to life and return to the village to claim her revenge."

"I never dared to mention this before—it's shameful."

I sneered, "So, by that logic, your entire village is at odds with Qiushuang?"

The chief gave another long sigh and said no more, clearly conceding that Qiushuang bore a grudge against the whole village.

At that moment, someone asked, "Uncle, according to you, Qiushuang should have been a horse. Since when do horses eat people?"

The village chief answered, "Others have asked the Daoist that before. He said, who says horses can't eat people? In the old days, people would feed horses with human blood and flesh. And anyway, Qiushuang is a ghost now, not a real horse—why wouldn't she eat people?"

I had actually heard of feeding horses with human blood before—my grandfather had told me about it.

There's a saying among veterinarians: if you see a herbivore suddenly eating meat, whether or not it's become a demon, you must kill it, or else it will bring disaster. My grandfather once asked a senior vet how a grass-eater could end up eating meat.

The old vet replied: if someone deliberately feeds them that way, there's no telling what they might eat.

In the past, Zhang Xianzhong did exactly that—after gutting people, he stuffed their corpses with feed, turning the dead bodies into horse troughs. The horses, eating the feed, would consume human blood as well, and after tasting blood, they became wild and fearless. Most of these horses wouldn't survive long, but if even one or two made it, they'd start seeking out human flesh themselves.

Everyone knows horses are herbivores; you wouldn't expect one to attack you. But if a horse ever got close enough to bite your neck, it would be far too late to run.

If a horse consumed enough people, it could even transform into a demon.

Still, I didn't care to explain all of this to the villagers and risk scaring them off. Instead, I seized the opportunity to ask, "We've come all this way, and Qiushuang hasn't shown herself. Do you have something on you that can keep her at bay?"

The village chief shook his head. "No! If we did, don't you think we would've dealt with her by now?"

"In the past, whenever we tried to confront Qiushuang, it was only after she'd eaten her fill. Once she'd eaten, she'd find a place to sleep, and that's when we'd sneak into her cave."

I understood then—Qiushuang hadn't appeared yet most likely because Hu Sanqi had intervened behind the scenes.

Hu Sanqi had said he wouldn't help directly, but he could buy me some time to find my own way out. He was exploiting a loophole in the laws of Heaven, so he wouldn't go too far.

I figured Qiushuang would be here soon, and I needed to deal with this problem quickly.

The village chief, seeing my silence, assumed I was pondering how to handle Qiushuang, and took the chance to say, "Xiao Xie, I've told you everything. Do you have any way to save us?"

I jerked my chin in the direction of a stone. "See that hitching post over there? That thing can hold Qiushuang too. It's up to you how you want to use it."

I had already noticed a stone pillar, about half a meter high, near the stone horse. It was the kind of hitching post that used to stand outside grand households. Whether it could really restrain Qiushuang, though, was another question.

I said this intentionally, hoping the chief would untie me. If I kept sitting here with my hands and feet bound, I'd be at a serious disadvantage.

The chief's eyes lit up. "Yes! Didn't those two stablehands once tie Qiushuang to the hitching post?"

"Boy, what do you suggest?"

I replied, "Didn't I tell you to bring coffin ropes? Used coffin ropes can bind evil spirits. When Qiushuang arrives, tie her up and fasten her to the post. Simple as that."

The chief nodded, "Boy, on behalf of the whole village, thank you! But you'll have to bear with us a little longer."

"Everyone, come here. Move him to the hitching post."

"All of you, hide. When Qiushuang comes for him, use the coffin rope to snare her."

He still intended to use me as bait.

A few men dragged me to the hitching post, gauged the distance, and decided that if Qiushuang came to eat me, they'd have a good chance to catch her. They left me beside the post and hid themselves in the corner of the cave, silently waiting for Qiushuang to appear.

Though my ropes weren't untied, I had half a razor blade hidden in my sleeve.

Hu Sanqi had taught me that trick, saying that when dealing with ghosts and spirits, one never knew what might happen. Carrying a small blade could save your life someday.

As I quietly worked the razor blade against my bonds, a sound like hooves striking the ground echoed from outside the cave, making my heart clench.

A villager hiding in the dark nearly cried out in fright, and the chief quickly covered his mouth, whispering, "No one make a sound!"

I hadn't managed to cut through much of the rope yet. If Qiushuang came in now, I'd be as helpless as ever.

The sound of hoofbeats drew closer, growing more eerie with every step.

I'd heard horses before, but these hoofbeats distinctly mimicked the cadence of two feet walking. Without looking, I could picture it—a horse standing upright like a human, walking step by step into the cave.