“So be it then." Song Tianming reluctantly nodded.

Having said what needed to be said, and with both sides agreeing to notify each other of any leads, Jiang Cheng took his leave.

Watching Jiang Cheng and Fatty's figures disappear beyond the courtyard gate, Ye Qiutang's slightly bewildered gaze instantly sharpened, filled with undisguised vigilance. "What do you think? Can these two be trusted?"

Having learned a lesson from the maid Lü Zhu, Ye Qiutang was even more worried about the unknown origins of Jiang Cheng and his companion.

Unlike Ye Qiutang's anxiety, Song Tianming visibly relaxed. He silently watched the direction they had left in, his voice even and cold. "For now, I haven't found any flaws. And the information they brought is very important—that is, if it's all true."

"Also, that Jiang Cheng is very wary of us. He doesn't want us to contact Monk Huicong alone, which is normal. I'd be suspicious if he agreed to it right away."

As he spoke, Song Tianming stood up and walked towards the stone stool where Jiang Cheng had been sitting. He crouched down and rummaged through the weeds. Soon, a square wooden box was placed on the stone table.

The craftsmanship of the wooden box wasn't particularly exquisite, and the strange patterns carved on it were worn. It was clear that it was an antique.

Opening the wooden box, a dried human head was revealed. The withered, brown skin clung tightly to the bone. The head was much smaller than an adult's, and the sparse, yellowed hair that remained covered the top of the skull, tied with a red string.

Carefully holding up the head, Song Tianming's face was filled with reverence. "This is one of the thousands of young boys and girls brought overseas by Xu Fu, the first Dafang Shi (Great Master of the Esoteric Arts), to seek immortality. After offering the severed head as a sacrifice, the magic tool refined from the child's head can discern good from evil and distinguish loyalty from treachery."

The more Ye Qiutang got to know this leader of the Fangshi sect, the more wary and disgusted she became. Although his methods were clever, they were full of strangeness. "Old Mr. Song, please hurry," Ye Qiutang urged, frowning.

"Hehe, Miss, don't be impatient."

This item had naturally been placed here in advance by Song Tianyang, for the purpose of Jiang Cheng and Wang Fugui, and even their seats had been pre-calculated.

He spread a piece of red cloth on the table and then placed the head on it. Song Tianming gently brushed the skull, and the remaining withered hair scattered, revealing three holes in the top of the skull.

The holes weren't very neat, and traces of jagged edges remained. It was an indescribable feeling of strangeness. Seeing this scene, Ye Qiutang felt a gust of cold wind on her face. She was almost certain that these holes had been drilled while the person was still alive, and the girl had struggled constantly in agony, but all in vain.

Images flashed through her mind uncontrollably: the vast ocean, with towering waves, the fleet like a lone boat, about to capsize in the constant turbulence. At that moment, a man in luxurious robes stood out. Ye Qiutang strained her eyes but couldn't see the man's face clearly, but she saw the tortoise shell in the man's right hand.

The man used the tortoise shell to divine, then pointed, and a girl of about 7 or 8 years old was pushed forward.

The girl was hoisted up amidst cries, hanging high beneath the mast, her body swaying with the waves. At that moment, two young men in white robes walked towards the girl, one holding a sharp knife, the other holding a stone hammer and large, brown nails that looked like coffin nails. The two men moved towards the girl in a strange dance-like step, their lips moving.

Ye Qiutang desperately wanted to know what these two were saying or singing. She could only try to get closer, closer…

But the next moment, the girl dangling in mid-air suddenly flashed before her eyes. In that instant, she inexplicably tilted her head slightly. The next moment, she saw the most terrifying scene of her life: the girl's eyes, nose, ears, and lips had all been cruelly cut off. The bloody eye sockets stared fixedly at her, and the bloody mouth exposing two rows of white teeth opened and closed, "Why didn't you save me? Did you want to see me die so much?! Hehehe… Then you can take my place!"

Accompanied by the girl's eerie laughter, Ye Qiutang saw the girl's face constantly changing, eventually becoming 70-80% similar to her own childhood face, and this similarity was still improving. At the same time, she felt her body becoming lighter and lighter, more and more ethereal, as if… as if she was the one being hung under the mast!

"Why?" Ye Qiutang roared helplessly, "Why is this happening? Not me! Not me!!"

Her perspective began to invert. The two young men in white robes stepped forward and grabbed her. The sharp knife reflected Ye Qiutang's helpless and desperate face.

The next moment, with a stinging pain in her finger, Ye Qiutang suddenly woke up. She almost fell to the ground from exhaustion, but fortunately, someone supported her. "Miss, are you alright?"

It took Ye Qiutang a few seconds to regain her senses. She trembled as she looked at her finger. Her right middle finger had been pricked, and blood was still flowing from the pale fingertip.

"I… what happened to me?"

Feeling Ye Qiutang's weak voice, Song Tianyang finally breathed a sigh of relief. He slowly helped Ye Qiutang to sit down on the stone steps a little further away from the stone table, saying with remorse, "Miss, you've been hit. It's all my fault for not informing you beforehand. This magic tool is very taboo. It's fine in ordinary places, but this place has extremely heavy yin energy. It's a geomantic location that blocks wind and water. During the divination process here, you must not let living people stare at the pupils of this magic tool, otherwise, it's easy for the resentment in the magic tool to hook away your soul."

At this point, Ye Qiutang only felt dizzy and didn't have the energy to blame him. She just waved her hand, telling him to hurry.

After confirming that Ye Qiutang was fine, Song Tianyang turned around and walked back towards the stone table. But the moment he turned around, Song Tianyang's eyes changed, becoming strange, and hiding some doubts, as if there was something he couldn't figure out. "It wasn't her… it really wasn't her who broke my spell. Then who could it be?"

Thinking so, Song Tianyang's hands didn't stop. He took out three incense sticks from his bosom, lit them, and inserted them one by one into the holes on the dried head, chanting the incantations of the Fangshi sect in his heart.

Along with the incantations, the three inserted incense sticks burned rapidly at a speed visible to the naked eye. An even more bizarre scene appeared: the smoke generated by the burning incense actually fell straight down, pouring into the head's mouth and nose.

At the same time, the closed rows of white teeth on the head made a "whooshing" sound, as if laughing.