Chapter Thirty-Six: The Kuman Thong

I have no idea who Bai Juan originally sought out to perform the life-swapping ritual. Ever since the last attempt was broken, the other party has helped her swap my life several more times. Even Teacher Xing sighed, "Bai Juan is truly obsessed with the idea of swapping your life!"

That day, I was so furious that I typed out a scathing text message to Bai Juan: "From childhood until now, what have I ever done to wrong you? Everything in this world has a way of coming to light; if you do too many evil things, you will eventually face retribution. Tread carefully."

Bai Juan, naturally, refused to admit to her actions and even turned the tables on me, calling me neurotic and nonsensical.

Teacher Yang sighed as I fumed over the text I had sent. She poked my forehead with a finger and said, "You, you’ve just alerted the enemy, don’t you see?"

I gritted my teeth and replied, "I don't care. I just want her to know that I am aware of what she’s been doing. She shouldn't think she can hide in the shadows and plot against me. If it comes to it, I’ll fight her to the end."

A curious glint flashed in Teacher Yang’s eyes as she asked, "You said Bai Juan is your age, so she must be married, right?"

"She’s been married for several years." I tilted my head and thought for a moment before adding, "It's strange, why doesn't she have children yet? I remember Hu Rui mentioning in private that Bai Juan’s husband treats her poorly and that her mother-in-law resents her for not conceiving all these years..."

"That’s hardly surprising." Teacher Xing, as usual, was turning his bodhi prayer beads, his voice calm and detached. "She has been dabbling in these evil arts for a long time. The backlash from the heavens makes it perfectly natural for her to be barren. Even if she were to have a child, that child would only be there to settle a debt and seek revenge."

"Who is Hu Rui?" Teacher Yang asked, frowning.

I replied casually, "Oh, another childhood friend. We all grew up together, her, me, and Bai Juan."

That night, a small child wearing a red bib and a sinister smile appeared abruptly at the door of my bedroom. Its skin looked wrinkled, as if it had been soaked in water for years, and its body radiated an indescribable, cold, and evil aura.

It hopped into the room and, upon turning its head, caught sight of Little Round Cake sleeping soundly in the nearby cradle.

Deep jealousy flashed in the eyes of the red-bibbed child. A black mist surged from the top of its head as it reached out with two tiny, iron-gray hands, aiming for Little Round Cake’s delicate, tender neck.

Whether it sensed something or not, the bloody pupils of the red-bibbed child flashed with profound fear—an instinctual terror as if facing a natural predator. It let out a jarring, croaking sound, turned around, and scrambled toward me like it was running for its life.

At that moment, I was fast asleep. The child in the red bib extended a tiny index finger and poked my left cheek gently. A small, bloody fingerprint—like a drop of blood splattered on snow—slowly emerged on my skin.

"Heehee, haha..." A hollow, eerie laughter filled the air. It was the innocent tone of a child, yet it sounded exceptionally sinister as it echoed through the room.

The next morning, I woke up feeling exhausted, and my stomach was cramping violently. I had to run to the bathroom several times throughout the morning.

Little Round Cake was also acting strangely. Whenever I got close, he would cry incessantly, waving his little hands as if desperately resisting my presence.

By the afternoon, the stomach pain grew even more severe, and eventually, I began passing blood.

Realizing something was terribly wrong, I contacted Zhong Yang. She had been staying at Wang Xinyue’s home ever since they returned from Henan and hadn't left yet.

Zhong Yang’s eyes glinted with a faint green light as she stared at my face, her voice filled with alarm: "Xiaoqian, why is there a red fingerprint on your face?"

Zhong Yang pondered for a long time before finding the right words to describe it: "It looks like the kind of mark a child leaves after eating red-dyed eggs, when they rub their stained fingers all over their face."

Wang Xinyue, standing nearby, added gloomily, "To leave such a small bloody print, the child is likely premature."

Suddenly, Zhong Yang’s eyes flashed with horror: "Is that a Kuman Thong?"

Zhong Yang quickly described what she saw: a small child in a red bib with iron-gray skin, radiating a chilling, evil aura, was perched on top of my head, playing with my hair while giggling.

"Kuman Thong?" My mind went blank. Suddenly, I remembered over a decade ago when I was still close with Bai Juan. We would often lie on my old bed, talking about everything under the sun.

One time, she asked me, "Xiaoqian, do you know what a Kuman Thong is?"

I was stunned for a moment. There had been a period when internet forums were filled with ghost stories about people raising "little ghosts," so I had certainly heard of them.

"Kuman Thong? That’s very evil, isn't it? And I heard it backfires—once you get involved, it’s not easy to get rid of."

Bai Juan lay on the bed, a look of longing flashing in her eyes: "I heard it can grant your wishes and make you invincible. How powerful is that!"

I sensed something wrong and stared at her nervously, "You aren't thinking of raising one, are you? It’s said to be extremely evil, don't be foolish! There’s no such thing as a free lunch in this world; everything comes with a price."

Bai Juan laughed fearlessly, "Look at how tense you are! I was just teasing you. Who would actually dare to touch that stuff? If you can't get rid of it, it could cost you your life."

Thinking back now, Bai Juan had clearly been involved in this world long before I knew it. If she dared to perform life-swapping rituals, what was a mere Kuman Thong to her?

I told them about the time Bai Juan mentioned the Kuman Thong.

Wang Xinyue’s eyes half-closed, as if she were receiving a psychic revelation. She began to speak slowly: "Bai Juan started raising Kuman Thong a long time ago. At first, it was just to achieve success. Somewhere along the way, the Kuman Thong must have gone out of control. While searching for help online, she met someone from..." She stopped abruptly, her face turning pale. She raised her hands to cover her ears tightly, as if something had just screamed in her ear.

"What’s wrong?" I asked, terrified, reaching out to her.

"Longhu Mountain!" Wang Xinyue lowered her hands, her voice resolute. "It’s a Taoist from Longhu Mountain! There is a statue of Lu Dongbin there that contains a fragment of my soul. That fragment just told me that a man from Hunan once went to Longhu Mountain to study secret arts for several years before descending to specialize in this trade. Bai Juan met him online, and they exchanged WeChat contacts. Bai Juan frequently asked him to transfer the wealth of her friends and family to her and to cast evil spells on those she envied. It was also that Taoist who performed the life-swap for you. When Teacher Xing broke his spells several times, he grew furious and suggested that Bai Juan use the Kuman Thong she was raising to take your life. At first, Bai Juan didn't dare commit direct murder, but after seeing that you had discovered her secrets and continued to break her spells, she decided to go all the way. Last night, she made a wish to the Kuman Thong to kill you and silence you forever!"

"She—she dared to kill?" Zhong Yang was stunned. Although they frequently battled demons and spirits, they existed in a different dimension. This was the first time they had encountered such a direct, real-world murder attempt using dark artifacts.

"She has completely lost her mind!" Wang Xinyue remarked, shaking her head. "A Kuman Thong might bring fame and fortune to its master at first, but over time, it corrupts the master, making them increasingly evil until their conscience is completely extinguished. In the end, the Kuman Thong demands the master's own life."

The reason Bai Juan hadn't been fully dealt with previously was that the person behind her was too well-hidden. Now that Teacher Xing knew it was a Taoist from Longhu Mountain, he could report the matter to the heavens to handle it.

On the video call, Teacher Xing’s expression was somber. He took a piece of yellow ritual paper, wrote the words "Longhu Mountain" on it, stamped it with his official seal, presented it before the seven statues in his shrine, and finally burned it.

Various magical instruments, command flags, seals, and talismans appeared out of thin air in the shrine. The heavens had confiscated the items the Taoist used for his rituals. Without his command flags and seals, he could no longer make a living in the metaphysical arts. If he wished to continue performing such rituals, he would have to trade his own lifespan to do so.

Next, it was time to deal with the Kuman Thong.

There was only one Kuman Thong here, which was easy to handle, but the base of operations was in Thailand. Since they were doing this, they decided to finish it once and for all.

However, Kuman Thong are not like ordinary demons that can be dispatched by divine soldiers alone. Each art has its specialty; in this world, everything has its counter. To deal with Kuman Thong, it was best to deploy their natural enemies.

Teacher Yang used a dragon-seeking ruler to inquire one by one about the deities from the *Investiture of the Gods*.

I forgot to mention that since the New Year, the dragon that previously resided in the ruler had finished its term, and a phoenix had been assigned in its place. This phoenix was no ordinary being—she was the daughter of the Jade Emperor, Xue'er, and a sister of Teacher Yang in the divine realm.

After much inquiry, Xue'er pointed to the name "Yu Lei."

"Who is Yu Lei?" For some reason, the name felt familiar and comforting.

"Shen Tu and Yu Lei guard the Ghost Gate Pass and specialize in subduing evil spirits. Later, the common folk started pasting their portraits on their doors to ward off evil, and over time, they became recognized as the Door Gods," Teacher Yang explained.

Teacher Xing closed his eyes and summoned Yu Lei with his intent. Little Round Cake, who had been happily sucking on his milk bottle, suddenly trembled. A brilliant golden light erupted from within his body, transforming into a young, handsome man wearing brocade robes and black armor. His eyes flashed with brave, fearless light as he hovered in the air, flashing a grin at me.

Then, with a gentle wave of his hand—like a general commanding thousands of troops—the wind howled outside the window. Countless underworld soldiers poured in, seemingly responding to his call. My phone, which was propped up on the table for the video call, captured him as he stepped through the screen and appeared in the shrine, followed by a vast, surging army of underworld soldiers who traversed the phone screen alongside him.

He clasped his hands and bowed deeply to Teacher Xing. "Yu Lei pays respects to the Kunlun Mountain Master."

I was completely dumbfounded. I knew Little Round Cake had been Judge Bao of Kaifeng during the Song Dynasty, I knew he had been Xu Shilin—the son of the White Snake—and I knew he was the first recorder of the *Investiture of the Gods* and the Wenqu Star. But I never expected him to also be Yu Lei!

Teacher Xing nodded calmly and dispatched a million divine soldiers to accompany Yu Lei to the Kuman Thong production base in Thailand.

In an old Thai temple, a dark, damp room reeked of a foul, bizarre stench of corpses. Yet, the monks there seemed accustomed to it. They used special tongs to pick up palm-sized infant corpses and roasted them over candles that emitted a blood-red light. After a long roasting process, the corpses were shriveled and shrunk, then covered in gold leaf to be fashioned into "golden dolls." These were the high-priced Kuman Thong.

The cheaper ones were made more crudely, depending on the price paid.

In a dark corner of the room, a dense row of countless infant spirits stood against the wall. Their figures were dim and weak, looking exactly like toddlers in kindergarten trembling in fear, waiting for punishment from their teacher.

Every time a Kuman Thong was completed, the presiding sorcerer would chant a strange, mysterious incantation, and an infant spirit would fly from the wall and enter the doll.

A sudden, violent gale roared in through the window, extinguishing the corpse-oil lamps. All the tools in the room were swept into the air and crashed down, shattering into pieces.

The monks, sensing the strangeness of the wind, exchanged glances. Without a word, they sat cross-legged in a row and began chanting ancient incantations. The eerie, evil patterns painted on the walls seemed to come to life, stretching and leaping out to engage in a fierce battle with the million divine soldiers that had suddenly descended.

The Kuman Thong that had been standing against the wall were stimulated by some unknown force. They threw their heads back, emitting shrill, piercing wails. Tiny blood vessels, like vines growing in the wind, crawled from their ankles up to their faces and heads, looking terrifyingly grotesque.

Yu Lei arrived with the underworld soldiers. The Kuman Thong opened their hideous, blood-red jaws, lunging like ghosts in the night. Yu Lei held a seemingly ordinary peach-wood sword, but its blade flowed with a brilliant, dazzling golden light, as if it were forged from the purest liquid gold. With a flick of his wrist, the sword danced, cutting through the air with sharp energy as he struck at the rampaging Kuman Thong.

Every Kuman Thong struck by the peach-wood sword instantly regained its reason. Their skin tone shifted from deathly gray, and they clutched their bruised heads, sitting on the floor and wailing.

However, the production base held more than just Kuman Thong and wall-spirits. In the center stood a massive statue of an evil god, plated in gold and radiating an ominous light. Its eyes, carved from gold lacquer, suddenly shifted, as if an evil consciousness had awakened. Two pitch-black beams of light shot from the eyes, sweeping across the hall. The black light fell upon the infant spirits that Yu Lei had just restored to their normal state, and they were instantly transformed back into violent, bloodthirsty Kuman Thong.

Yu Lei’s instincts flared; he had to destroy this evil god first. He ordered his men to handle the Kuman Thong while he lunged toward the statue. A black light emerged from the head of the gold statue, transforming into a hunched, emaciated old man. His face was twisted, half-shadow and half-light, looking hideously grotesque. His withered fingers, like dried branches, clutched a bizarre, long weapon.

Against this evil god, the peach-wood sword was useless. Yu Lei sheathed it and drew a golden halberd, heavy and fierce, imbued with infinite power. He charged at the evil god, and they began to clash.

The evil god had been fed with blood sacrifices for years and nourished by constant incense, so its power was formidable. But Yu Lei, having guarded the Ghost Gate Pass for eons and serving as a Door God, was a legendary warrior. No demon could escape his iron grip.

Ultimately, justice prevailed. Yu Lei’s halberd struck true, piercing the evil god’s left eye. A sound like metal hitting boiling acid hissed through the air.

"Ahhh!" The evil god shrieked in agony, stumbling backward. It covered its wounded eye with its left hand, black mist leaking through its fingers, its power fading rapidly.

Yu Lei realized that the evil god’s eyes were both its greatest asset and its fatal weakness.

With this insight, he concentrated all his attacks on the right eye. Despite the evil god’s desperate attempts to protect it, it could not escape Yu Lei’s relentless pursuit. Each strike was precise and ruthless, until the right eye met the same fate as the left—blinded by Yu Lei’s blade.

Losing both eyes, the evil god’s power collapsed like a receding tide. Its massive form crashed to the ground, turning into a heap of useless, fleshy sludge. Facing a powerless enemy, Yu Lei did not hesitate; with one final sweep of his halberd, he ended its existence.

The evil spirits housed in the wall murals were also wiped out by the divine soldiers. Yu Lei waved his arm, and the ground seemed to respond to his will, revealing an ancient, solemn double-doored gate carved with intricate patterns. The door rings shimmered with a ghostly light.

He reached out and pulled the right door. With a deep creak, it opened, and a rush of freezing cold air poured out. The left door remained closed, but suddenly, a young man in magnificent robes and shining golden armor stepped out from it, holding a long spear, his appearance heroic and handsome.

Yu Lei smiled and called out to him, "Brother, help me open the left door too, so these Kuman Thong can get in faster!"

"You rascal, how did you end up in Thailand?" The other young man was naturally Shen Tu. He laughed familiarly, stretched out his long arms, and easily pulled open the left side of the deep, dark Ghost Gate.

With both gates open, the countless Kuman Thong, like toddlers in kindergarten obeying their teacher, lined up in an orderly fashion and marched into the Ghost Gate Pass.