Chapter 243: Wails of Sorrow

Mournful cries swirled above South Corner Village, laden with emotions of regret, resentment, and bitterness.

A young man in a white opera robe, his expression full of sorrow, led a group of dozens—men, women, young, and old. Each time they passed a household, they would stop, and one of the followers would step forward to share their tale of hardship.

By the time Gu Ning’an and his group caught up with them, the procession had grown to about forty people. Many had even donned mourning clothes, making the gathering resemble a funeral procession.

Just as before, Gu Ning’an and the others did not act hastily, nor did they know what to do. They simply followed, watching the opera-clad youth’s every move.

Soon, the procession halted in front of a modest courtyard. The young man in opera robes pointed at the house and lamented, “Fellow villagers, do you know who lives here?”

Someone in the crowd responded, “This is Widow Wang’s house. She’s had a bitter fate—she hadn’t been married for long when her husband’s entire family died off. She didn’t even have a child.”

“Exactly! That makes her the last of the line! Just look at the footprints on her wall—shameless men are always sneaking over.”

“That poor woman, she’s not even thirty yet. Who knows how she’ll survive the decades ahead?”

“Oh, and her husband was a gambler, drowning in debt. The debt collectors come knocking every few days… Honestly, at this rate, she’d be better off dead. What’s the point of living like this?”

The village was small, and any news, no matter how minor, would spread within a day. Widow Wang’s misfortunes were well known to all.

After listening to the villagers, the opera-clad young man’s voice turned sharp. “Widow Wang, the whole village knows of your suffering. Come out and share your hardships with everyone!”

“Woo… Woo… So tragic… So tragic…” As if rehearsed, the villagers accompanying him broke into coordinated wails, repeatedly chanting the word “tragic” between sobs.

Zhou Zhongtian and the others, following behind, felt their hair stand on end at the eerie cries, their bodies tensing involuntarily.

After some time, the courtyard door finally creaked open, revealing a woman clad in a red wedding gown. She was of unremarkable appearance, her skin rough and sallow, her stature short. The trailing red fabric of her dress made her look strangely out of place.

Most peculiar of all, her belly had a slight bulge—whether from weight gain or pregnancy was unclear.

“Widow Wang, you’re finally willing to come out!” The opera-clad young man took her hand, leading her before the crowd. He sniffled and urged, “Come, tell everyone your sorrows, your hardships.”

Widow Wang’s eyes brimmed with tears as she choked out her tragic past.

She was an outsider, married off to Four Corners Town because of her family’s poverty. Only after arriving did she discover that her husband was a compulsive gambler. Whenever his parents earned any money, he would steal it for gambling.

Though life was meager, she had managed to survive—until her husband and in-laws passed away, and true hardship began.

As the villagers had said, she endured debt collectors at her door, men sneaking over her walls, and being cursed to her face as a woman who brought misfortune to her husband.

And now, she was pregnant—by whom, she did not know.

“Tragic, tragic, tragic! Widow Wang, your suffering is beyond compare!” The opera-clad young man wiped his tears and asked, “So, what will you do about the child? You already struggle to feed yourself—how will you provide for a baby?”

Widow Wang wept bitterly, falling to her knees. “I don’t know… I wanted to see a doctor to get rid of it, but I can’t bring myself to do it, and I don’t even have money for a doctor!”

For a brief moment, the crowd fell silent as they listened to her story. But then, once more, they broke into wailing.

They cried for her misfortunes, lamented her fate—but not one of them considered helping her.

Once Widow Wang had joined the “mourning” procession, the opera-clad young man led the group to the next household.

A young man too poor to marry… Tragic, tragic, tragic!

A couple married for years without bearing a son… Tragic, tragic, tragic!

Children refusing to care for their aging parents… Tragic, tragic, tragic!

Barren farmland yielding no crops… Tragic, tragic, tragic!

As they followed the group from house to house, the External Agents found their minds filled with one word: Tragic—repeated endlessly, drilled into their very bones.

Even though they instinctively resisted joining the funeral-like procession, they found themselves unable to turn away. Feng Wei’s eyes had already reddened, on the verge of tears.

“There’s no need to follow any further,” Gu Ning’an suddenly spoke. “This person is the same as the two we encountered earlier.”

As soon as his words fell, the agents’ ears cleared of the endless wailing, and the oppressive chant of ‘tragic’ vanished from their minds.

Zhou Zhongtian paused, rubbed his eyes, and found them slightly damp. “Damn it, this is too eerie. The more I followed, the sadder I felt… I even had the urge to cry along with them!”

As soon as he said this, the others chimed in, expressing that they felt the same way.

“That young man in the opera costume looks like a ghost… But all he does is lead people in crying. What’s that supposed to mean?” Liu Feng spoke as he discreetly wiped away the tears at the corners of his eyes.

“Who knows?” Guo Teng sniffled.

At that moment, everyone turned their eyes to Gu Ning’an.

In their view, after experiencing the strange occurrences in the three villages, Gu Ning’an remained the calmest—almost as if he had expected things to turn out this way, as if he already knew the identities of the three strange figures.

“Mr. Gu, do you know something?” Zhou Zhongtian couldn’t hold back and asked.

Gu Ning’an nodded. “Those people should be chang ghosts.¹”

“Chang ghosts?”

“Spirits left behind after being devoured by a tiger?”

“If that’s the case, doesn’t it mean there’s a tiger behind these chang ghosts?”

“A tiger demon? That’s going to be troublesome!”

Having worked as external enforcers for a while, they were somewhat familiar with malevolent spirits and demons.

So, as soon as they heard the term chang ghosts, their first thought was that a tiger demon was causing havoc.

“That’s incorrect. The method of creating chang ghosts is not exclusive to tiger demons alone!”

An aged voice suddenly rang in their ears.

In the dead of night, an unfamiliar voice suddenly appearing made the already tense enforcers immediately draw their weapons, turning toward the source of the sound!

Not far behind them stood an elderly man in a black robe, leaning on a cane, and a girl carrying an iron sword on her back.