Volume One: The Field of Eight Coffins Chapter 61: The Net of Earth

“Cat resentment? What is cat resentment?” I asked, puzzled.

“Cat resentment, as the name suggests, is a form of grievance or lingering resentment attached to a cat’s soul. When this resentment attaches itself, it forms a unique spiritual entity. Such entities may possess physical bodies or old objects, neither extinguished nor dissipated, enduring for thousands of years.”

“Then… the thing that was inside Xu Ruoxi just now…”

Third Uncle nodded. “That was likely cat resentment.”

Xu Ruoxi listened in confusion. “Inside me? What happened just now?”

I shot her a glance. “Some things are better left unknown.”

She was silenced, her usual temper gone; she only glared at me but said nothing more. Noticing the blood flowing from my wounds, she quietly tore strips from her cheongsam and came over to bandage me. I was unexpectedly touched by her gesture, and suddenly remembered something. I asked, “Why didn’t the cat bite you just now?”

Xu Ruoxi was equally baffled. Third Uncle explained, “I suspect it’s because the cat resentment had just possessed her. Those cats appeared because of that resentment—they must have sensed it on her.”

“I see. So being possessed wasn’t all bad, then.” I forced a bitter smile and turned to Third Uncle, “That net of yours is quite effective. What’s its origin?”

Third Uncle, usually unserious, was deeply knowledgeable when it came to his craft. The special ritual tools he produced often worked wonders, and his bag seemed bottomless, always full of surprises. I was eager to learn, so whenever he revealed something new, I’d ask about its provenance and function.

He enjoyed explaining, both to showcase his skill and genuinely wanting to teach me.

Outside, things had calmed for now. The cats kept their distance from the nets, wary and hesitant. Our best option was to hold out until dawn.

Third Uncle found a moment to let me examine the nets sealing the doors and windows. The threads were fine, as though coated in black paint, and the knots were small and varied, each one tied differently. Constructing such a net must have been even more laborious than weaving black tiger knots; Third Uncle had certainly prepared thoroughly.

“Have you heard of the Net of Heaven and Earth?” Third Uncle suddenly asked.

I nodded—of course, it’s a familiar saying.

Third Uncle continued, “This is called the Earth Net. The Net of Heaven and Earth consists of two types: the Heavenly Net binds monsters, the Earth Net hunts ghosts. The threads for this net come from old chalk lines, and its knots are highly complex, based on the Four Pillars of Fate, encompassing the celestial stems, earthly branches, yin-yang, and the five elements. Each knot represents a fate; there are three hundred and sixty knots in total. Monsters caught in the Heavenly Net return to their place; souls ensnared by the Earth Net are rendered formless…”

I was amazed by his explanation, and had just witnessed its power—the cats kept their distance because of the Earth Net.

“Is it really that formidable? So these cats can’t break through?”

Third Uncle nodded. “There shouldn’t be any problem. The Earth Net is mainly used to hunt ghosts, but cat resentment is a spiritual entity, and these cats are drawn to it, bewitched. So the Earth Net still works against them.”

I asked, “Did you learn this from that book?”

He chuckled. “Picked it up and put it to use right away. That Record of Haunted Houses describes the knotting method. I improvised and used chalk line instead of red string, doubling its effectiveness. What do you say, isn’t your Third Uncle a genius?”

I was used to his boasting. What truly shocked me was the Record of Haunted Houses itself; I had never valued it before, but now it seemed a real treasure, especially for those like us who often venture into haunted places. No wonder Third Uncle said it was worth more than half a million in cash.

With the Earth Net, we felt much safer. We kept an eye on the outside, hoping time would pass quickly and dawn would come soon.

The house was pitch dark, lit only by a fallen flashlight and moonlight through the window. Since it was unclear how long we’d need to wait, Third Uncle turned off the flashlight and lit several candles on the floor.

I checked the time—after all the chaos, it was midnight, a few hours from daybreak.

Looking out the window, the cats’ eyes glittered like ghostly flames, flickering green in the darkness. Not only had they not dispersed, there seemed to be more than before.

I groaned inwardly—perhaps these would be the most unbearable hours of my life.

The three of us sat silently on the floor, not knowing what to say.

Suddenly, a faint crunching sound began. At first barely audible, it grew louder, seeming to come from beneath the house.

Our nerves were taut; hearing the sound, we all sprang up from the floor.

Xu Ruoxi shouted, “It’s below us! The sound is below!”

I turned to see her lying prone, ear pressed to the floor. She meant the crunching came from underneath.

“Not good. They must be trying to chew through the floor and break in via underground tunnels,” Third Uncle called.

“They… are they really that clever? And besides, they’re cats, not rats.”

“You don’t get it. Cat resentment has lingered for at least a century, long enough to become cunning—smarter than you, for sure. Cats are the natural enemies of rats, and cat resentment can drive rats to dig passages. It’s entirely possible. We can’t just sit here; if they get in, we’re doomed.”

“What should we do then? Should we try to run?”

Third Uncle shook his head. “No, too many cats outside. That won’t work.”

I felt deflated—so we could only wait for disaster?

Now, more and more places on the floor began to echo with the ominous sounds. I couldn’t tell if Third Uncle’s deduction was right, but whatever the truth, these sounds didn’t bode well for us.

(End of chapter)