He sorted the scriptures into categories: one set he stuffed into his chest to ward off evil, another he hid under his pillow for future study and cultivation.

After arming himself from head to toe, Samuel finally let out a sigh of relief.

He took a big bite of chicken drumstick and cheered himself on:

“I could kill a rolling-head ghost with my bare hands before. Now that I have the divine sword and the horsetail whisk as magical tools, plus the treasure of silver coins, and Mr. Samuel is right next door, hmph, there’s nothing to fear from any monsters or ghosts!”

As if in response to his words.

No sooner had he finished speaking than a knocking sounded at the door:

“Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang...”

The sound came from outside the closed main gate.

Unhurried and steady.

Clear and distant.

Echoing endlessly in the courtyard.

Samuel glanced outside and felt his scalp tingle:

One of the main gates had originally been taken down by David Carter.

But now both gates were closed.

So how did they get closed?

And when did that happen?

These two questions gave him a bad feeling.

Meanwhile, the knocking continued to drift through the courtyard:

“Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang...”

With the sound echoing back and forth, for a moment all he could hear was the knocking.

The wind had stopped.

The sound of the wind rustling the peach tree leaves was gone too.

The mountain wind, which blew day and night without pause, had stilled; the peach tree leaves had stopped moving, all eerily drooping downward.

Just like a person’s hand hanging down after death.

Samuel gripped his peachwood sword and looked at the main gate, mustering his courage to shout, “Who’s knocking at the door?”

No one answered; the knocking continued resolutely.

As unhurried as ever.

Samuel shouted again, “It’s already very late, Mr. Samuel is resting. If you want to offer incense to Mr. Samuel, you’d better wait until tomorrow.”

As his words rang out, there was still no response from outside, but the knocking suddenly sped up:

“Bang bang bang, bang bang, bang bang bang, bang bang...”

Seeing this, Samuel sneered and said, “Playing tricks, how ridiculous! Demon, even through the door I can tell you’re not human! If you want to come in, just push the door open. If you dare to come in, I’ll make you show your true form!”

The knocking finally stopped, replaced by a dry, aged voice:

“Boy, I can smell you through the door too. Come open the door, open it up, they’ve all gone in, let us in too.”

“I’m looking for my money. Have you seen the money I lost?”

Hearing this, Samuel couldn’t help but clench his buttocks.

They’ve all gone in?

Let us in too?

Who’s ‘they’?

He gripped his sword and focused on the courtyard.

Inside, it was as deathly still as ever.

But it also seemed to have become lively.

Samuel asked in a low voice, “You said ‘they’ have all come in. Who came in?”

The voice outside didn’t answer him, but kept speaking on its own, one sentence after another:

“Boy, come open the door, open it wider, open it a bit wider...”

“Boy, come open the door, I know you’re inside, I have something to ask you, something to ask you...”

“Boy, I lost my money, have you seen my money?”

The old, calm voice spoke sentence after sentence, with no change in tone, no emotion in its words.

Utterly eerie.

Samuel quickly changed tack and asked, “You lost money? Was it gold, silver, or copper coins?”

The old, calm voice replied, “I lost paper money. Did you pick it up?”

Samuel didn’t answer, but asked again, “Was it yellow joss paper, aluminum foil paper money, or gold foil paper money?”

“What I lost—I lost... Right, what kind of paper money did I lose?”

The old, calm tone finally wavered a little.

Taking advantage of its confusion, Samuel immediately asked again, “You just said ‘they’ went in. Who are they? Why do they want to come in?”

The voice outside blurted out, “The ones being buried, the hanged, the drowned, the coin-eyed are inside...”

The words broke off abruptly, and then the rickety wooden door began to shake violently, as the ghost outside started to roar:

“Boy, you’re so cunning, you tricked me, you made a fool of me, I want your life! Your life! Give me back my money! Give me back my money! Give it back!”

The broken wooden door that David Carter could easily take down during the day now seemed full of resilience.

It shook violently, as if a mad bull was crashing into it from outside.

But it only shook and trembled; the two door panels remained tightly blocking the entrance.

Seeing that the ghost couldn’t push the door open, Samuel grew bolder. He gestured at the doorway and shouted:

“You want my life? Such nerve! I was born a Daoist, and death—death won’t take me!”

“You want my life? Fine, come in! If you’ve got the guts, come in and see how I’ll destroy you! If I can’t destroy you, I’ll be your father!”

At this moment, the atmosphere was eerie, and a ghost had come knocking.

Though he was armed to the teeth, Samuel was still nervous inside, so when the other side tried to scare him with words, he fought back with bravado.

This was also a way to boost his own courage.

Besides, if it was just a war of words through the door, he wasn’t afraid of anyone: