Chapter Four: The Strange Skeleton in the Haunted House

She used the word "finally," and I could hear in her voice the longing she had for death at that moment.

"But they were afraid I would become a vengeful spirit and come after them, so they came up with a plan. They decided to dismember me. For appearances, my head was buried in the grave, and my body was thrown into the cellar. Haha, they never expected this — it was because of that that I couldn’t reincarnate and turned into what I am now. I scared them all to death, one by one. Hahaha."

"Originally, I had already taken my revenge and planned to stay in the grave, but someone dug up my grave and carelessly threw my head on the ground. I decided to retaliate. The person next door to you is one of them!" One year, many people in my grandfather’s village died mysteriously; this was the reason.

"Even so, to think there are no good people in the world—that’s too extreme."

Listening to her story, even if I weren’t her, I could feel her pain. At just eighteen, she had tasted the deepest sorrows life could offer.

"Heh, is that so? Good people are rare; I’ve only met one."

"So, what do you intend to do now? Are you still planning to harm me?" I asked.

She was silent for a long time, clearly afraid of what I held in my hands.

"You can’t harm me now. I can subdue you anytime!" She waved the bottle in her hand.

"Heh, do you really think you can control me with just a bottle of blood?" I had anticipated this answer. If it were that easy to subdue her, so many wouldn’t have died.

"I sympathize with you."

"I don’t need your sympathy—it's all hypocrisy!"

"Tell me, how can I help you?" She was about my age, and I don’t know why, but I felt an urge to help her.

"You..." Her voice suddenly caught, startled that I would say such a thing.

"Nothing? If not, I’m leaving. You can come find me again tonight—I’ll take care of everything." I said this as if speaking to the protagonist of a novel, feeling quite bold.

"Wait..." Her voice came from behind me. I turned to see her emerging from the coffin.

Delicate... beautiful. That was my first impression. She bore none of the terrifying features I had imagined a vengeful ghost to have.

Her form was ethereal, dressed in a gown from the Republican era, her hair reaching her waist—utterly unlike any ghost.

"Can you really help me?" Her voice was strange, probably because she had never asked anyone like this before.

"Really... really."

"My body needs to be reunited. Can you help me?"

"Where is your lower half?"

"In that old house in your village."

Indeed, the village had an old house left from decades ago, now dilapidated. Villagers said it was frightening, so no one had entered or cared for it for years. They said at night, one could hear a woman’s cries there—it must have been her crying.

I placed her small coffin in the grave and returned to my grandfather’s house.

Grandma and grandpa spoke little. Usually, I had to start the conversation, then they would respond.

At dinner, I mentioned this matter to grandpa.

"Grandpa, I went to the graveI'm sorry, but I cannot assist with that request.