**Knock!**
The seventh knock had just faded.
The entire house fell silent.
There was no sound of insects.
No sound of wind.
Even the wall clock had stopped.
The second hand stood perfectly still at **12 o'clock**.
To Nhuoc swallowed hard.
“Who... is that?”
Luc Minh did not answer.
He quickly took three golden talismans, a handful of sticky rice, and some cinnabar from the ancestral altar.
In just a few seconds, he drew a circle on the floor.
“Stand inside.”
“Under no circumstances step out.”
To Nhuoc stared at the red circle.
“Is it safe as long as I stay here?”
“No.”
Luc Minh answered calmly.
“It only means that... if you die, it won’t be able to take your spirit away.”
To Nhuoc’s face went pale.
### The Figure Outside the Door
**Creak...**
The wooden door opened by itself.
No one pushed it.
The yard outside was blanketed in white mist.
A shadow figure stood with its back to the house.
It wore a tattered mourning robe.
Both feet hovered several inches above the ground.
Luc Minh gripped his peachwood sword.
“Who are you?”
The figure did not turn around.
It only spoke slowly.
“Luc Thien Ha...”
“...is he here?”
Luc Minh jolted at the mention of his Master.
“You know my Master?”
The figure gave a hoarse laugh.
“He...”
“...owes this entire village.”
The moment it finished speaking, the figure’s head twisted backward a hundred and eighty degrees.
Its face was deathly pale.
Its eyes were pitch-black, like two bottomless pits.
But the most terrifying thing was...
Its mouth had been sewn shut with red thread.
### Spirit-Awakening Talisman
Luc Minh bit his fingertip.
Blood dripped onto the peachwood sword.
The sword immediately began to glow with a pale golden light.
“Spirit-Awakening Talisman.”
“Spirit sword, exorcise evil.”
He lunged forward.
**Clang!**
The sword struck the figure’s shoulder.
But instead of blood,
Long strands of black hair fell to the ground.
Yin energy erupted.
The figure staggered backward, then dissolved into mist.
Luc Minh had not even caught his breath when a child’s laughter rang out behind him.
“Hee hee...”
“You’re looking in the wrong place.”
He spun around.
In the yard...
There were already **seven identical shadow figures**.
### The Secret of the Seven Knocks
Every figure wore a mourning robe.
Every mouth was sewn shut.
Every head hung low.
To Nhuoc’s voice trembled.
“Why... are there seven?”
Luc Minh remembered a passage in the scripture.
> **“The seven knocks are not a request to enter the house.”**
> **“They are seven roll calls for seven vengeful spirits.”**
> **“If the door is still opened after the seventh knock...”**
> **“...seven lives will be taken.”**
Luc Minh drew a deep breath.
“This isn’t a wrathful ghost.”
This is...”
“...the Seven-Gate Ghost.”
A type of malignant spirit that appeared specifically in places where massacres had taken place.
### The Clue
At that moment,
one of the seven figures raised its hand.
In its palm
was a piece of charred wood.
Luc Minh picked it up after dispersing one of the clones.
It was...
A fragment of a signboard.
Only three characters could still be made out on the wood.
**“...Temple...”**
An eye-shaped symbol was carved into the back.
It was identical to the symbol on the reverse-written talisman.
Luc Minh frowned.
“A temple...”
“Could it be connected to Maoshan?”
### The True Ghost Appears
Suddenly,
the other six figures vanished in unison.
Only one remained standing in the middle of the yard.
It slowly raised its hand.
Then it tore out the thread sewing its mouth shut.
Its mouth stretched wide to its ears.
Inside...
There was no tongue.
Only countless tiny hands reached out, clawing and scratching without pause.
A cacophony of dozens of voices rang out at once.
> “Open...”
> “The...”
> “Door...”
> “Beneath...”
> “The...”
> “Mountain...”
Luc Minh was shaken.
This was the second time he had heard that phrase.
What, exactly...
was the door beneath the mountain?
### The Man Who Saved His Life
The Seven-Gate Ghost let out a roar.
Yin energy twisted into a vortex and hurtled toward Luc Minh.
At that exact moment,
a blue talisman flew down from the roof.
**BOOM!**
The yin energy was torn apart.
A man in a gray Taoist robe landed in the yard.
He looked about thirty.
A bronze sword was strapped to his back.
His gaze was cold.
The strange thing was...
**His right hand was black as charcoal**, and black veins spread all the way to his wrist.
He glanced at Luc Minh once and spoke in a low voice.
“Your Taoist arts...”
“...are too slow.”
With that, he raised his black hand.
A stream of black energy immediately swallowed the Seven-Gate Ghost.
Its screams echoed throughout the night.
Within seconds,
the ghost vanished completely.
The man turned his back and started to leave.
Luc Minh immediately called out.
“Who are you?”
The man stopped.
He did not turn around.
He only left Luc Minh with a single sentence.
> “If you want to stay alive...”
> “...don’t trust anyone who claims to be with Maoshan.”
With that,
the man’s figure vanished into the mist.
Luc Minh stood motionless.
The black hand...
The strange Taoist arts...
And that warning.
A terrible premonition suddenly rose in his heart.
Perhaps...
the incident eighteen years ago had not merely burned a temple to the ground.
It had also buried a horrifying truth.
**End of Chapter 5.**