Chapter 209: The Haunted High-Rise: A Decade of Resentment

Mo Qingyan led us through a period of night walking until we arrived before a towering apartment complex. This lengthy high-rise comprised approximately five units, each soaring over thirty stories into the night sky.

“Is this the haunted place Liang Xuezhang mentioned?” Bai Yue questioned, her gaze fixed on the building. “It appears to be a resettlement complex. How many ghosts could possibly inhabit an apartment like this?”

“A place like this shouldn’t harbor too many ghosts,” Jia Cheng added, pondering. “Even if a heinous murder occurred, it would at most wipe out a single family, claiming five or six lives, thus creating a haunted house. Even if subsequent residents were killed by vengeful spirits, it would only nurture a few malevolent specters at most. It’s hardly suitable for cultivation.”

“Unless, of course, this area was once a mass grave,” Xushan mused, crouching to touch the ground with their hand. “But I can’t sense any malevolent aura, so it shouldn’t be a situation like our school.”

Suddenly, I clutched my eyes, lowering my head.

Through my spiritual sight, a section of the apartment building before me was constantly shifting. One moment, it was enveloped in thick, black-red smoke; the next, it returned to its original state. Panic-stricken shouts and cries for help echoed in my ears, and the acrid smell of scorching permeated the air intermittently.

“What is it?” Mo Qingyan asked, turning to look at me. “Yubing, have you discerned something?”

I raised a finger, pointing towards the third unit. “There, something seems to have happened. Such a desolate wail, yet it’s faint and intermittent. I can’t see it clearly.”

“What powerful spiritual sensitivity,” Mo Qingyan remarked. “Even with my glasses, I can only perceive a fraction of it. Try to control it, to lower your spiritual vision. Otherwise, your future will be fraught with hardship and danger.”

They then began to instruct me on how to control the art of spiritual observation. I was told to clear my mind and calm my spirit, to perceive with my heart rather than my eyes. I was to approach it with the detached perspective of observing a landscape, devoid of curiosity or longing.

Eventually, the chaotic and noisy spectacle before me vanished.

I could only see that in the middle of the building, an entire unit’s lights had gone dark. The walls were pitch black, appearing incredibly eerie and terrifying in stark contrast to the brightly lit units on either side.

“A fire?!” I exclaimed in astonishment, describing the scene I witnessed.

Everyone paused, immediately pulling out their phones to search for past news. Knowing the complex’s name and the possibility of a fire, they quickly found relevant articles by inputting keywords.

“Found it! Yongjia North Garden,” Xushan announced, looking at their phone. “Ten years ago, there was a massive fire here. The official cause was arson by someone in the internet cafe on the first floor. The flames spread up the stairwell to the rooftop. The official death toll was twenty-eight, but it’s rumored to be far higher.”

“Yes, the actual death toll reached over a hundred, but it was concealed by the authorities,” Mo Qingyan confirmed with a nod. “Of course, every victim’s family received sufficient compensation to keep them silent.”

“I also found a rumor,” Jia Cheng added. “It’s said the arsonists were three minors. Because they hadn’t reached the age of criminal responsibility, they were sentenced to three years in a juvenile reformatory. However, in their second year, a short circuit in a power outlet caused a fire in their dormitory, burning all six reformatory inmates in that room to death. And the time the fire started? It was precisely on the anniversary of the original fire, a year later.”

“Exactly,” Mo Qingyan affirmed. “Even the time of the fire was accurate to the second—the very moment they set the original blaze. This was the vengeful spirits of those who tragically died in the fire exacting their revenge. There was no official report on this incident.”

“Afterward, the authorities invited masters to purify the fire-damaged building. However, the resentment was so dense and stagnant that it couldn’t be dispersed, and the masters couldn’t eliminate it. After three masters sacrificed their lives, consumed by the lingering fire spirits, they sealed the site of the fire. Subsequently, the real estate developer renovated the fifth unit, using the vital energy of new residents to suppress the resentment from the blaze.”

“Would people really live in a dangerous building after a fire?” Ou Zhiqing wondered aloud. “They’re truly not afraid of being haunted by the vengeful spirits of those who burned to death.”

“They can’t resist the low price,” Mo Qingyan chuckled. “In a market with such high housing prices, who wouldn’t jump at a house less than half the market value, regardless of a past fire? Besides, most people aren’t certain if ghosts truly exist.”

“That’s right,” Xushan added playfully. “I often see a saying online: ‘If a property is only two thousand per square meter, forget a haunted house—I’d even sleep with a ghost.’ While it’s a joke, it’s not entirely baseless.”

“There’s no need to dwell on that,” Mo Qingyan stated. “The masters who sealed the fire scene back then were indeed highly skilled. It’s been over ten years since the sealing, and this building hasn’t experienced any supernatural incidents. Even Liang Xuezhang spent a month studying it before finding a way to unseal it and enter the ghost realm. For ordinary residents, the fire is merely distant old news. It’s likely that even residents who experienced the fire back then are no longer certain of its details.”

“So, we’re re-entering the sealed fire zone?” Xiao Qing asked with worry. “Sister Mo, this is no laughing matter. The resentment from such a collective disaster, especially a man-made one, is incredibly potent, and it’s been sealed for ten years. There’s no telling what kind of monstrous entities might be inside.”

“No problem,” Mo Qingyan replied. “Liang Xuezhang is already inside. He even wrote down a few precautions for me. As long as we heed these, there shouldn’t be any major issues. Of course, if any of you are afraid, you can leave now. I won’t force you.”

“I’m going in!” Bai Yue declared, showing no trace of fear. Instead, she seemed even more eager, as if wanting to enter immediately.

“This is an excellent spot! I’ve been looking for a haunted place, and I can’t believe Liang Xuezhang found one like this. I’m definitely going in!” Xushan exclaimed excitedly.

“If Sister Mo is willing to give me a hand, count me in too. Fortune favors the bold, after all,” Jia Cheng said after a moment of consideration. Mo Qingyan nodded, assenting to his request.

Now, only Xiao Qing and I remained. We had come to the ghost realm specifically for our training, and danger was an unavoidable aspect of entering any such place.

Even so, Xiao Qing said, “I want to hear what taboos Liang Xuezhang mentioned.”

“It’s quite simple,” Mo Qingyan explained. “First, do not enter the internet cafe, the source of the fire, unless you wish to uncover the truth of the matter. Second, absolutely do not ascend above the thirtieth floor. Third, do not enter the stairwell.”

“I understand not entering the internet cafe, the source of the fire, but what are the reasons for the latter two rules?” Xiao Qing inquired.

“It’s said that after the fire started, the flames spread along the stairwells, eventually engulfing the entire building,” Mo Qingyan replied. “Even now, within that fire-ravaged site, the stairwells remain one of the most dangerous places.”

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