10:58 p.m.
National Highway 17 was almost completely deserted.
A light drizzle fell, each drop striking the windshield and leaving long, distorted streaks.
Luc Minh had just finished his shift at the antique shop.
His old motorcycle chugged along through the night.
Today was his twenty-second birthday.
No birthday cake.
No friends.
Only a still-warm steamed bun in his jacket pocket and the peachwood sword always strapped to his back.
Ever since his Master disappeared, Luc Minh had tried to live like an ordinary person.
He wouldn't take ritual-service jobs.
He wouldn't exorcise anything.
He wouldn't mention the words "Maoshan."
He had once promised his Master.
He could only draw his sword when it was absolutely necessary.
The motorcycle had just passed the banyan tree at the village entrance.
Suddenly...
The engine died.
Luc Minh frowned.
"That can't be..."
He had replaced the battery only two days ago.
He tried starting it again.
Nothing.
Just then...
A chill wind swept past.
The temperature seemed to drop by dozens of degrees in the blink of an eye.
Luc Minh shivered.
Something...
wasn't right.
Across the road.
A girl in a red dress stood beneath a streetlamp.
Her long hair hung over her chest.
She was soaked from head to toe.
The strange thing was...
In the middle of that rain, the ground beneath her feet was completely dry.
Luc Minh was about to ask if she needed help.
"Do you need—"
The words caught in his throat.
The girl slowly raised her head.
No eyes.
No nose.
No mouth.
Just...
A smooth white face, like a blank sheet of paper.
Luc Minh felt his heart pound.
His hand instinctively tightened around the peachwood sword's hilt.
His Master had once told him:
> "Seeing a ghost isn't necessarily frightening."
> "What's frightening is when a ghost comes looking for you."
The red-clad woman slowly raised her arm.
A deathly pale finger pointed straight at Luc Minh.
Then a hoarse voice rang out.
"Give..."
"...back..."
"...my..."
"...life..."
"...to me..."
Each word seemed to echo up from the bottom of a deep well.
Luc Minh immediately pulled a golden talisman from his jacket pocket.
"Yin-Sealing Talisman!"
The talisman burst into flames in midair.
Golden light flashed.
But...
The girl remained standing there.
Completely unaffected.
Luc Minh's eyes widened.
"Impossible..."
This was the talisman his Master had personally left behind.
It had never failed.
Suddenly.
**Crack!**
The peachwood sword on his back trembled.
A tiny crack appeared along its blade.
It was the first time in eighteen years...
that the sword had reacted.
Just as Luc Minh reached for it.
The red-clad woman vanished.
As if she had never existed.
The road fell silent.
The motorcycle suddenly started up again.
Six the next morning.
Luc Minh's phone rang nonstop.
"Luc Minh!"
"Get to the banyan-tree crossroads right now!"
"There's another strange killing!"
The caller was Tran Hai, a local police officer and Luc Minh's childhood best friend.
Fifteen minutes later.
The scene had already been sealed off.
A corpse lay in the middle of the road.
There were no signs of a beating.
No blood.
But...
The entire face was gone.
The skin was smooth and flat, as if the facial features had never existed.
Exactly like the red-clad woman from the night before.
Tran Hai frowned.
"The forensic doctor says this is impossible."
"There are no cuts."
"No signs of the skin being peeled off."
"It's as if..."
"...the person was born without a face."
Luc Minh stood frozen.
Just then.
A young police officer ran over.
"Captain!"
"We found this."
Inside the victim's jacket pocket.
Was a talisman gone yellow with age.
The moment Luc Minh saw it, his expression changed.
It was...
**the Maoshan Ghost-Sealing Talisman.**
But what sent an even colder chill down his spine was...
Every incantation on the talisman had been written backward.
Exactly like a forbidden ritual.
Luc Minh clenched the talisman.
His Master's final parting instruction suddenly echoed in his mind.
> "If one day you see a Maoshan talisman written backward..."
> "...leave that place immediately."
> "Because..."
> "...the person who opened the door has appeared."
In the distance.
Another cold wind blew past.
No one noticed.
On the roof across the street.
The faceless red-clad woman stood silently watching Luc Minh.
This time...
A red thread had appeared around her wrist.
The other end of the thread...
was tied around Luc Minh's wrist.
**End of Chapter 1.**