This Japanese Monogatari Isn't Lame
Chapter 121 - 120. Lock

Chapter 121: Chapter 120. Lock

Beichuan Si broke free from the opponent’s shackles, stepped forward, and then crouched low, wrapping his hands around Magong Nayuki’s head, and slammed his knee ruthlessly into her face!

Bang!!!!

The Spiritual Body exploded!

Countless black mists seeped out from between Beichuan Si’s fingers.

But these black mists didn’t disappear.

Under Beichuan Si’s watchful eyes, the mists writhed, and incredibly, reassembled into a complete and undamaged Magong Nayuki.

However, compared to before, this Magong Nayuki seemed much more ethereal.

But the next moment, the Jian Ding in Beichuan Si’s hand had already sliced across her neck.

The Spiritual Body splattered once again—

Yet Magong Nayuki still hadn’t disappeared; the black qi writhed once more.

Beichuan Si seized the opportunity, just as she was almost fully formed, the Jian Ding flickering with a faint silver light, cleaved open her neck.

This process repeated roughly three times before Magong Nayuki let out a wail, her ghastly, contorted face revealing a shade of relief.

She sighed from afar:

"Ryosuke—you finally came."

Until her death, Magong Nayuki was still waiting for the man called Ryosuke, but even as she died full of resentment, he never came.

As the broken syllables of Magong Nayuki’s voice fell, the thick resentment dispersed with them—

Nishijou Kurenai, the little tyke, seemed to jump out wanting to absorb this visible resentment, but the grudges seemed completely unaffected by Kurenai’s attraction and seeped into the floor and disappeared.

"Perhaps this is why the system didn’t settle it," Beichuan Si rubbed his fingers.

Could there be something hidden under the tatami that absorbs resentment?

Beichuan Si probed around the area of the tatami—

"It should be right here."

Beichuan Si’s fingers paused, lifting the tatami mat.

Beneath the tatami, there were a few empty spaces, used for storage by some Japanese.

Inside these empty spaces were some of Magong Nayuki’s personal items.

But apart from an old diary with a water-patterned cover and a few well-preserved kimonos, Beichuan Si found no items that might absorb resentment.

Just to be sure, Beichuan Si even had Nishijou Kurenai go down for a look, and after confirming there was nothing else, he put the tatami back in place.

It appeared that the thing that could absorb resentment was hidden elsewhere.

"Diary..."

It wasn’t a total loss.

Beichuan Si briskly flipped through the diary with the water-patterned cover, hoping to find details of the rituals in the village on its pages.

On the somewhat oxidized pages, Magong Nayuki’s past emerged before Beichuan Si’s eyes.

It seemed Magong Nayuki didn’t like leaving her home much and fancied sentimental writings about the fleeting nature of beauty and life.

The diary was full of entries about when she raised what kind of small animals, they died, or how someone in the village got ill, they died, then lamentations about the fragility of life.

However, this Magong Nayuki also had someone she liked.

By chance, she met a remarkable young man from the village, Ito Ryosuke.

Magong Nayuki was amazed by Ito Ryosuke’s intelligence and greatly admired him.

And it seemed Ito Ryosuke also had some feelings for Magong Nayuki.

After all, forming a connection with the Magong Main Family, the great family of Shenzhu Village, would be more than beneficial.

Thus, Ito Ryosuke gave her an ebony comb, and promised Magong Nayuki he would definitely marry her and take her home—a romance that should have been perfect.

But plans can never keep up with changes.

Under the persuasion of the village elder, Ito Ryosuke had actually abandoned Magong Nayuki and left the village without looking back to head to the big city.

The latter half of the diary was filled with entries where Magong Nayuki expressed her longing for Ito Ryosuke.

Self-pity, self-abandonment, eventually contracting a strange illness, she was no longer in her right mind—

After flipping through the diary back and forth, Beichuan Si shook his head in disappointment.

This was just an ordinary diary, with no reference value whatsoever.

Beichuan Si put the diary back into his backpack, stepped out of the room, and walked towards the staircase to his left.

Down there was the first floor, which should have the entrance to the courtyard.

Beichuan Si made his way to the first floor with his flashlight on.

In front of him was a path leading straight ahead, and on the right was an entrance hall, presumably the entry to the courtyard.

Beichuan Si didn’t hesitate and strode to the entrance.

A Japanese-style paper sliding door revealed itself before him.

"This should lead me to it..." Beichuan Si pondered, his hands moving without pause, sliding the door open with a whoosh.

A cold wind, sharp as a knife, hit him in the face, making Beichuan Si squint involuntarily.

Once the eerie chill had swept past, Beichuan Si looked out into the courtyard.

Standing here was a completely different feeling from looking down from the third floor.

But what truly captured the gaze was the ancient tree, its canopy huge like an umbrella.

The irregular, slender branches densely blocked out the sunlight, creating an almost suffocating atmosphere in the winter day.

Beneath the ancient tree, numerous stupas stood erect, densely inscribed with individuals’ memorial tablets.

This incredibly eerie and terrifying scene didn’t make Beichuan Si stop.

He left the entrance hall and entered the courtyard, his gaze drawn to the heavy door leading to the mortuary.

It was a massive, heavy iron gate, etched with all sorts of strange inscriptions, with patches of rust marring its surface and some parts of the iron peeling unpleasantly.

Beichuan Si ignored the ancient tree and went straight to the gate.

About half a person’s height, there hung a White Chrysanthum Lock.

The White Chrysanthemum Lock, about the length of a baby’s arm, was rectangular in shape.

It was unclear what material was used for the lock, as it showed no signs of erosion by the years and even shone brightly.

Looking at the lock, Beichuan Si summoned the system panel once more.

His vital energy was running low.

If he used Jian Ding again for lock picking, and then encountered a malevolent spirit, Beichuan Si estimated he wouldn’t have much power to resist.

Even though Magong Yongshi had warned him to enter the mortuary, he couldn’t fully trust the other party.

After all, nine years had passed, and it was quite normal for things to have happened that Magong Yongshi didn’t know about.

One need not harbor ill intentions, but one must also not be without caution.

"Should I turn back now?" Beichuan Si’s brows were tightly knitted.

Beichuan Si didn’t plan on staying overnight in Shenzhu Village, but the mortuary in front of him might just hide the secret—

Having come this far in his exploration, he had no reason not to go in and see for himself.

But the vital energy...

Wait a second—The White Chrysanthemum Lock?

Suddenly, Beichuan Si remembered something.

Didn’t the key given to him by Magong Dongzi also bear the pattern of a white chrysanthemum?

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