# The Maoshan Heir
## Chapter 3: The Open Coffin
The voice had barely faded.
The long hallway sank into silence.
The red-clad figure stood motionless beneath the flickering lights.
Luc Minh tightened his grip on the peachwood sword.
This wasn't the first time he'd seen her.
But this time...
The yin energy was far stronger.
Suddenly.
**Fwhoosh!**
Every light on the second floor went out at once.
The villa was swallowed by darkness.
Children's giggles echoed from all around them.
"Big brother..."
"...can you see me?"
Luc Minh immediately pulled out three talismans.
"Heaven clear, earth bright!"
"Evil yin, retreat!"
The three talismans burst into three blue flames, illuminating the entire hallway.
But...
The red-clad woman had vanished.
All that remained was a pool of black water on the floor.
At its center lay an old silver bracelet.
Two words were engraved inside:
**"Thanh Ha."**
Luc Minh picked up the bracelet.
A hazy memory suddenly surfaced in his mind.
A little girl of about ten was smiling brightly.
She was wearing an identical bracelet on her wrist.
But just as he tried to remember more...
A violent headache crashed over him.
### The Rescued Child
Back in the bedroom.
Luc Minh took out a fresh talisman and stuck it to the boy's forehead.
This time, the talisman didn't burn.
The yin energy in the room gradually dissipated.
The boy opened his eyes.
They were no longer cloudy as before.
"Mom..."
"...she's gone."
After saying that, he burst into tears.
Mr. Phan held his son, tears streaming down his face.
"You're okay now..."
"You're really okay."
Luc Minh looked down at the reverse-written talisman.
On the back was a black eye-shaped symbol.
This was the first time he'd seen this symbol.
He silently put the talisman in his pocket.
Maybe...
This was the real clue.
### A Midnight Invitation
Eleven at night.
As soon as he got home, Tran Hai was waiting at the gate.
His face was deathly pale.
"Minh."
"It's happened again."
Luc Minh frowned.
"What is it this time?"
Tran Hai swallowed hard.
"At the funeral home."
"The dead..."
"...sat up."
### Funeral Home No. 9
It was late at night.
The rain had let up.
The funeral home stood at the end of the old road, lit by only a few dim yellow bulbs.
Chaos reigned inside.
Crying.
Screaming.
Everyone was scrambling to get out.
An old woman pointed inside with a trembling hand.
"It..."
"...it opened its eyes."
Luc Minh hurried into the funeral hall.
At the center of the room stood a coffin made of ironwood.
The coffin lid had been blown open.
A man of about fifty was sitting bolt upright inside.
His skin was deathly pale.
His lips were purple.
His eyes were wide open.
Clearly...
He was dead.
But the most terrifying thing was...
The corpse slowly turned its head toward Luc Minh.
The corners of its mouth lifted into a stiff smile.
Then it spoke in a hoarse voice.
"Luc..."
"...Minh..."
The entire room fell silent.
Even Tran Hai took a step back.
"He..."
"...knows your name."
A chill ran through Luc Minh.
He had never met this man.
So why...
Why was a dead man calling him by name?
### The Dead Man Speaks
The corpse slowly climbed out of the coffin.
Its stiff legs dragged across the tiled floor.
Every step made a dry, rasping sound.
It stared fixedly at Luc Minh.
"You..."
"...you're too late."
Luc Minh shouted.
"Who are you?"
The corpse smiled.
A stream of black blood trickled from the corner of its mouth.
"He..."
"...is waiting for you..."
"Who?"
"Your Master."
Luc Minh froze.
"My Master?"
The corpse nodded.
"Beneath..."
"...the..."
"...mountain..."
The moment the words left its mouth.
**Crack!**
The corpse's entire body split apart like a clay statue.
Dozens of reverse-written talismans flew out of its chest, covering the entire funeral hall.
The talismans all burst into blue flames at once.
Amid the sea of fire.
A low laugh rang out.
"Luc Minh..."
"We'll be meeting soon."
The flames went out with a whoosh.
The corpse collapsed onto the floor.
This time...
It was truly dead.
### The Clue Left Behind
After everyone had left.
Luc Minh discovered a partially burned photograph beneath the bottom of the coffin.
The photograph showed an old temple.
More than twenty Taoist priests stood in a line in front of it.
Luc Thien Ha stood among them at the center.
But behind them...
Someone's face had been deliberately scratched away.
In one corner of the photograph was a line of red ink, blurred with age.
> **"Don't trust the living."**
Luc Minh stood stunned.
Was this a warning?
Or...
A curse?
At that moment.
The peachwood sword on his back suddenly began vibrating violently.
A drop of dark red blood slowly dripped from the blade onto the ground.
That was the first time...
His Master's sword had **bled**.
**End of Chapter 3.**