"In ancient times, executioners would make an incision at the back of the prisoner's neck, down the spine to the coccyx. With this wound, skinning would be smoother."
In the park, Father Michael O'Connell seriously explained the origin of the wound to me.
"So... why did she target me?"
"Indeed, there are few ghosts in this world who act without reason, but only you can understand the reason."
Father Michael O'Connell stopped speaking, as if he had something more to say but hesitated.
Seeing this, I wisely handed all the cash to Father Michael O'Connell, and said urgently: "Father Michael O'Connell, you have to help me!"
After receiving the money, Father Michael O'Connell rummaged through a cloth bag and pulled out a packet of powder.
"This is a powder to dispel yin energy. Take it three times a day, it's enough to keep you safe for the next two days. I will contact you again for the rest."
I took the so-called powder, thanked him repeatedly, and after bidding farewell to the Taoist priest, I hurried home, focusing on studying this packet of powder with a jasmine fragrance.
Although there was still some doubt, but firstly, Father Michael O'Connell did seem to have some skills, and secondly, I was also fed up with the strange events of the past two days, I directly followed the Taoist priest's instructions, divided it into three portions, and drank it mixed with water.
Thankfully, I did indeed sleep well that night.
The next morning, I hesitated for a while and still took a day off.
I must figure out as soon as possible why the female ghost was targeting me?
Firstly, I generally parted on good terms with my ex-girlfriends, and I had been single for a long time now, so it couldn't be a love debt.
Secondly, I had become increasingly slick over the years, I hadn't offended anyone, let alone killed anyone.
So, why was she specifically targeting me??
Until after dark, I had searched through my QQ, WeChat, and even the company group from high school to now, but I hadn't found any girls who had any grievances with me.
After quickly making a bowl of noodles, I set my sights on before high school.
The memories of that time were already too vague, but I still had a few childhood friends, and I could ask them about it.
No sooner said than done, I looked up the phone number of my childhood friend, Liam Miller, and called it.
As a result, it was Liam Miller's mother who answered the phone.
I greeted her and asked with confusion: "Where's Liam Miller?"
The aunt was silent for a moment, and said: "Liam Miller has passed away."
"What?" I was stunned, "When? And why?"
"This March."
That was two months ago.
I was a little dazed, and after comforting the aunt for a few words, I realized that the aunt hadn't answered my question.
"Auntie." I followed up, "So, how did Liam Miller pass away?"
"Joseph, don't ask, the police said it can't be made public yet."
"Can't be made public? What is this? Is it a criminal case?"
My head was full of questions, but the aunt pleaded with me not to inquire further, and then hung up the phone.
What kind of death could make relatives not disclose it?
I angrily called the other childhood friends, preparing to question them about whether they knew about this matter and why they had hidden it from me.
As a result, the phone number of the second childhood friend, Noah Wilson, was already out of service.
The third, Oliver Smith, was also out of service.
The fourth was Mason Davis. This time the call went through, but it was Mason Davis's mother who answered.
A sense of inexplicable fear welled up in me, and I asked in a trembling voice: "Auntie, why are you answering the phone?"
"Joseph, Yuanlin has passed away."