Clash of the Spirits

　　The moment Liu spoke, the courtyard erupted in a cacophony of shattering wood as the heavy doors burst open, reduced to splinters in an instant.

　　"You killed me!" a voice shrieked from beyond the threshold. "Your whole family will pay!"

　　Ma's wife stood in the gaping entrance.

　　Even prepared as they were, my grandfather and Liu recoiled at the sight.

　　Gone was any semblance of humanity.

　　Her body was grotesquely swollen, her eyes vacant and white.

　　Her lips, drawn back in a gruesome parody of a smile, revealed four elongated fangs.

　　Her hands, too, had transformed.

　　Her fingernails, now bluish-green and ten centimeters long, were wickedly sharp, like claws.

　　It was a sight to curdle the blood.

　　"Ma's wife!" Liu called out, her voice firm despite her fear. "I am Liu, spirit medium! I am here to help you find peace. The dead cannot return! I know you feel wronged, but every soul must move on. Repent, and I will help you find rest in the underworld! Defy me, and I will strike you down where you stand!"

　　"Bring me the child!" the creature roared, ignoring Liu's words. "I will have my revenge! "

　　With a speed that defied her grotesque form, she launched herself forward. S

　　he moved like a macabre puppet, her stiff legs propelling her in a four-meter leap. A heavy thud marked her landing.

　　Liu had told us that a corpse spirit was a terrifying fusion – a human soul, trapped and twisted, animating its own decaying flesh. A monster.

　　My grandfather, fear battling with protectiveness, stepped forward, brandishing his cleaver.

　　"If you want him," he growled, "You'll have to go through me! Touch him, and I'll send you back to the grave!"

　　But before either of them could react, a new wave of eerie filled the courtyard.

　　From every shadow, every nook and cranny, they emerged – a sea of yellow weasels and foxes, their eyes glowing menacingly in the darkness.

　　They swarmed the walls, the roof, their numbers multiplying with each passing second.

　　Among them, unmistakable, was the giant yellow weasel, the white stripe blazing down its back, leading the charge.

　　Without hesitation, it darted towards Ma's wife.

　　"The Yellow Weasel Spirit!" Liu breathed, a flicker of hope in her voice.

　　It was short-lived.

　　The weasels and foxes swarmed the corpse spirit…. and were tossed aside like insects.

　　She swatted them away, her inhuman strength terrifying.

　　One unfortunate weasel found itself caught in her grasp.

　　 With a sickening crack, she ripped it in half and shoved it into her mouth, chewing with ghoulish delight.

　　Even the giant weasel, knocked off its feet, scrambled back, momentarily stunned.

　　My grandfather, his stomach churning at the sight, almost retreated. This…*thing*…

　　The corpse spirit, a mass of writhing fur and snapping teeth, turned its attention back to us.

　　 It lurched toward the house, its eyes fixed on the doorway, where my father stood frozen.

　　"Xiao Jie!" he roared, all thoughts of his own safety forgotten.

　　He lunged, swinging the cleaver with all his might, aiming for the creature's head.

　　Metal met flesh – or what should have been flesh.

　　To his horror, the blade skidded off her skull as if it were stone.

　　His arm went numb from the impact.

　　But the blow, glancing though it was, had its intended effect. The corpse spirit, knocked off balance, staggered.

　　She stared at the cleaver, something akin to fear flickering across her vacant eyes.

　　It was gone as quickly as it appeared. She roared, a guttural sound filled with rage, and lunged again.

　　This time, her jaw gaped open, and a cloud of black mist – the stench of death – spewed forth, heading straight for my grandfather.

　　He reeled back instinctively.

　　Liu reacted instantly. Her pipe, its bowl glowing red hot, was suddenly at her lips.

　　She inhaled deeply, then exhaled, a stream of thick smoke colliding with the black mist.

　　The air crackled as the two forces met, the stench of decay momentarily overwhelmed by the pungent aroma of tobacco.

　　Then, with a dancer's grace, she whipped the pipe around, smashing the bowl against the creature's chest, pushing it back.

　　"Old Wu!" she cried, "Get inside! Release the roosters! Now!"

　　My grandfather, torn between assisting Liu and obeying her urgent command, hesitated.

　　But as he turned to obey, he did a double take.

　　Something about Liu… had changed.

　　Her eyes…were no longer their usual brown.

　　They glowed green. A cold, predatory green.

　　He understood. Liu was summoning her spirit familiar.

　　"Every mountain has its king," Liu's voice rang out, transformed, younger, stronger, "Every home, its guardian! You dare defile this house, demon? Face the wrath of the Willow Spirit! "

　　Her hunched form straightened, her movements suddenly fluid and powerful.

　　The pipe in her hands became a blur, each strike accompanied by a shower of sparks as it connected with the corpse spirit, driving it back.

　　My grandfather, reaching the house, released the roosters.

　　The birds, sensing the unnatural presence, erupted in a chorus of frantic crowing.

　　The corpse spirit shrieked. Fear, raw and visceral, warped her monstrous face.

　　She scrambled back, retreating toward the safety of the open doorway.

　　And came face to face with my father.