Spirit Reaper - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: A Child of Calamity

“You are a child of calamity. You killed your mother.”

—

“Quick—bring more water!”

In the dead of night, even the birds in the surrounding mountains had gone silent. Only the Yu household remained brightly lit, people moving in and out of the room nonstop. At first glance, it almost seemed lively.

Yet the thick stench of blood spreading from inside the house made hearts sink with every passing second.

“How is my wife?”
When the midwife’s assistant came out for the fifth time, the man pacing anxiously outside could no longer restrain himself. He grabbed her arm, eyes bloodshot, forcing back his sobs as he asked.

“Prepare yourself…”
The assistant, her clothes soaked in dark red blood, left only those words before shaking him off and hurrying toward the water room.

She moved quickly, and the wind she stirred carried the bloody stench outward. In an instant, the smell crashed into the man’s nostrils, overwhelming him.

“Waa—!”

The sound of retching mixed with the cry of a newborn, tearing through the silence of the night. Thunder roared overhead, splitting the sky open.

Moments later, torrential rain poured down mercilessly, extinguishing the last trace of life.

At that very moment, the clock’s hands pointed to midnight.

The fifteenth day of the seventh lunar month.

The Gates of the Ghost Realm had opened.

—

“It’s a lovely baby girl…”

“But… the mother couldn’t be saved…”

The midwives stepped out carrying the swaddled infant, pity and regret mingling in their eyes.

They reached out to hand the baby to the man—

But without a word, he rushed straight into the room.

“Ah—!!!”

A heart-rending wail erupted.

“My Yu family has been cursed by a calamity star—!”

That night, the rain fell harder than ever before.

And it did not stop for an entire week.

—

“You killed your mom! The adults say you’re cursed—get away!!”

A group of children frowned at the little girl in front of them, their eyes full of fear and disgust. She had two small buns of hair and held a stick of candied hawthorn, clearly trying to make friends.

“I didn’t…”
Called a calamity star, Yu Wuyi instinctively protested—but when she remembered everyone saying she had caused her mother’s death, her voice faltered. Beyond denial, she could say nothing more.

Grandma had told her it wasn’t her fault.

Then why did everyone still believe she was cursed?

“Get lost! If you don’t, we’ll stone you!”

Seeing Yu Wuyi standing frozen, the children bent down, picked up stones, and hurled them at her.

“Stop—please… sob…”

She didn’t manage to dodge in time. A stone struck her calf painfully. Ignoring the pain, she cried as she ran toward home.

She didn’t understand.

Why was she a calamity star?

Her mother was gone. Her father had abandoned her. The villagers avoided her as if she carried plague.

Only Grandma still loved her.

Only Achun would still play with her.

Wiping away her tears, Yu Wuyi ran through the narrow alleys—running and running, not knowing how long she’d gone before the sky slowly darkened.

She still hadn’t made it home.

She was so tired…

The little girl gradually slowed her steps. The roads around her all looked the same now—she could no longer tell which way led home.

She was lost.

Realizing this, Yu Wuyi tightened her grip on the candied hawthorn and whimpered softly:

“Sniff… Grandma… Wuyi’s scared…”

Her eyes brimmed with tears, ready to fall at any moment. Standing still wouldn’t help, so she steadied herself against the wall and moved forward shakily, one step at a time.

“Wuyi… Wuyi…”

Dazed, she thought she heard her grandmother calling her—near yet far—

Like a wind she couldn’t grasp.

“Grandma?”

Mist slowly rose in the distance. Within it stood a hunched figure—one that looked just like her grandmother.

Swallowing her fear, Yu Wuyi mustered her courage and moved closer.

A little closer—she saw a pair of old-fashioned slippers.

Just like Grandma’s.

Closer still—a floral cotton jacket.

Also Grandma’s favorite.

When she was less than a meter away, Yu Wuyi saw her grandmother’s face.

The same kind smile as always—

Yet the longer she looked, the more something felt… wrong.

Terrified, Yu Wuyi noticed none of it. The moment she recognized her grandmother, she threw herself forward—

Only to feel a bone-chilling cold seep through her skin.

“Grandma… why are you so cold? Are you sick?”

“Of course not… Wuyi…”
“Come… let’s go home…”

The smile on “Grandma’s” face didn’t change, but her voice was flat and emotionless. Alarm bells rang in Yu Wuyi’s mind.

She quickly stepped back and pointed at her, shouting:

“You’re not my grandma! Who are you?!”

“Hehehe…”
“Wuyi, you’re not being good…”
“You smell so sweet…”

“Be good and let Grandma eat you!”

The thing dropped its disguise.

Its body twisted grotesquely, limbs bent at unnatural angles, joints creaking loudly. Sparse, yellowed hair clung to a charred skull. Empty eye sockets glowed with eerie green light, while black, sticky sludge dripped endlessly from its nostrils.

It grinned—its mouth split all the way to its ears, torn wide open. Pale skin covered in festering sores, maggots writhing beneath it.

It reached out with branch-like hands, reeking of rot, closing in on Yu Wuyi.

“Ah—!”

She screamed and turned to flee without thinking.

At some point, the fog had spread everywhere. Unable to tell direction, she could only run blindly forward.

“Wuyi…”

“Come here… stop running…”

More and more seductive voices echoed beside her ears. She covered them tightly, but it did nothing.

“Ah—!”

She stumbled and fell hard to the ground.

“Still running?”

The ghostly voice whispered beside her ear, and suddenly she felt her body lifted.

She opened her eyes.

She was suspended in midair, dangling above the monster’s gaping, blood-red maw.

“Let me go!”

She struggled with all her strength, but couldn’t break free.

In the end, Yu Wuyi gave up.

Her hands fell limply to her sides as she waited for death.

“I’d like to see who dares touch my granddaughter. You’ve got some nerve.”

A furious shout rang out.

Yu Wuyi opened her eyes again and saw her grandmother charging forward, a wooden sword plastered with yellow talismans in hand.

“Ah—!”

Before the creature could beg, it disintegrated into ash and scattered with the wind.

Weightlessness overtook Yu Wuyi as she fell—

But before hitting the ground, she landed in a familiar, warm embrace.

Grandma’s arms.

“Grandma…”

Yu Wuyi wrapped her arms around her. Grandma lifted her up, gently patting her head.

“Good Wuyi… Grandma came late. Let’s go home.”

—

From that day on, Grandma began teaching Yu Wuyi the family’s inherited secret arts—for self-protection, she said.

At first, faced with stacks of ancient books and strange tools she didn’t understand, Yu Wuyi still studied diligently, day after day, knowing Grandma meant well.

Only when she grew older did she learn—

Her grandmother, Yu Song, was a renowned master in the village, skilled in exorcism, demon suppression, and feng shui.

From that day forward, Yu Wuyi also began to suspect there was something wrong with her eyes.

She could see things no one else could.

Once, Yu Song took her to Auntie Li’s house next door. Yu Wuyi saw a coffin placed in the center of the room, a black-and-white portrait displayed in front of it.

Yu Song donned her robes, rang a bell, and chanted incantations.

While Grandma was busy, Yu Wuyi obediently found a seat and looked around.

The coffin was surrounded by mourners, their cries echoing through the night. Inside the house, several women wiped their tears.

Young as she was, Yu Wuyi didn’t understand—

Why were they crying?

Wasn’t Auntie Li standing right over there?

Though… she seemed to be crying too.

By the time everything ended, dusk had fallen. As Yu Song packed up her tools, Yu Wuyi hurried over and tugged at her hand.

“Grandma… come closer…”

Confused, Yu Song bent down.

“Why are they crying?”
“Look… Auntie Li is standing right there, isn’t she?”

Yu Wuyi whispered by her ear, pointing to where Auntie Li had been.

“Huh?”
“Why is she gone?”

This time, Auntie Li had vanished without a trace—
as if she’d never been there at all.

Yu Wuyi rubbed her eyes, then looked up at her grandmother in confusion.

Yu Song’s expression was grave.

She took Yu Wuyi’s hand and said slowly:

“Wuyi, if you ever see something like that again, do not speak of it. Understand?”

“No matter when—pretend you see nothing. Do you hear me?”

“Yes… I understand, Grandma…”

Sensing the seriousness, Yu Wuyi nodded repeatedly, then hugged Yu Song tightly, reaching up to smooth her deeply furrowed brows.

“Wuyi will help Grandma relax…”

—

Not long after that incident, on the night of a full moon, Yu Song suddenly woke Yu Wuyi and led her toward the back mountain.

The night was pitch black, swallowing the mountain whole. Even the full moon looked sinister.

Cold moonlight poured down, unable to pierce the layers of darkness, only sketching vague, eerie outlines.

The moment they entered the mountain, a bone-deep chill rushed over them. Yu Wuyi shuddered, goosebumps rising.

The path was uneven, strewn with rocks and tangled dead vines. With every step, the vines rustled—

like whispers from hell.

“Grandma… where are we going…”
Yu Wuyi was terrified, gripping her grandmother’s hand tighter.

“We’re almost there…”
“You’ll know soon…”

Grandma didn’t answer directly, pressing onward.

The deeper they went, the stranger the trees became—twisted, crooked, branches reaching wildly like roaring demons. Torn white cloth strips hung from them, swaying in the night wind like summoning banners.

Occasional owl cries sliced through the silence, echoing endlessly.

Soon, Yu Wuyi saw a stretch of white.

She rubbed her eyes.

Graves.

Rows upon rows of graves.

Her legs trembled uncontrollably, her voice breaking.

“Grandma—”

Before she could finish, a force pushed her forward.

She fell to her knees before a grave.

Before she could react, her hand was lifted—

Pain flared.

Blood streamed from her palm.

Her grandmother’s voice rang in her ears, cold and commanding.

“No crying.”

“Now, start kowtowing.”

“One grave at a time.”

“Until someone is willing to accept you.”