Chapter 35: The Little Ghost 3

Chen Zheqin's gaze slowly traveled over Jiyue's shoulders and arms.

He studied the spirit body carefully, very slowly — from the forehead, the slightly upturned nose, the pursed lips, all the way down to the bare, fair shoulders and back. There was a bruise on the arm, left over from the subway earlier.

His gaze slid lower, over a pair of soft thighs pressed tightly together.

Moonlight quietly settled on those legs, illuminating the faint bluish veins beneath the pale skin. Without close inspection, the body looked no different from a living person's.

...A 'yin peach blossom' referred to a ghost that bewitched a man in his dreams and fell in love with him.

Every seductive ghost in the old storybooks lured scholars this way.

In the modern world, Zhong Xian had also been bewitched into falling in love with a little ghost.

Had Zhong Xian also been on that subway escalator, with the little ghost hiding behind him, blowing air into his ear, squeezing in close to sit together, deliberately rubbing against his leg?

Chen Zheqin frowned slightly.

He remembered a saying — spring dreams leave no trace.

He was different from Zhong Xian. Even if he entered such a dream, he would not be bewitched by the little ghost.

[Is there a chance that he wants—]

'Stop.'

Jiyue cut off the system's fantasizing.

Moonlight fell on the floor. The steam in the bathroom slowly dissipated; the air conditioning was strong.

A drop of water fell from the tips of his hair onto his thigh.

Jiyue lowered his head and rubbed his arm.

The next second, a piece of clothing dropped over Jiyue's head.

His vision was instantly half-blocked; pressed against his face was the clean scent of laundry detergent.

"Put it on."

Chen Zheqin's low voice came down from above.

Jiyue's face showed no expression, nor did he thank him. He lowered his head and pulled on the sweatshirt. The size was far too big for him — the hem covered his thighs, the sleeves reached the backs of his hands. The oversized garment hung loosely on his body like a short dress.

"You followed me home. What exactly do you want?"

Chen Zheqin said.

At that moment, Jiyue had his head lowered, fastening buttons, his long hair falling down to hide half of his pale face.

His hands paused.

The atmosphere had finally built up to this point —

Like in so many horror films, the human tremblingly demands of the ghost: Why did you come for me?! What do you want!

He raised his face expressionlessly and pushed up his glasses.

As a fierce ghost from the Underworld, it was necessary to answer the human's question.

"To take your life, of course."

Jiyue's voice was utterly cold, without even a ripple of emotion.

After speaking, he glanced at the wall clock in the bedroom. The time was exactly midnight.

Time to sleep.

He turned his face toward Chen Zheqin and said: "Please stop disturbing my life with Zhong Xian, or I will come find you again."

[Classic villain line!]

[Be careful, Chen Zheqin is at the end of his rope!!]

The air in the room froze for an instant. Chen Zheqin's heart sank; he understood that every possibility had been frozen by that sentence.

The little ghost wanted not only Zhong Xian's life, but others' too.

"I only wanted to stop you from bewitching him. It seems that no matter what, you won't let Zhong Xian go."

Chen Zheqin frowned. The moment he finished speaking, he abruptly reached out toward Jiyue.

Catch this little ghost! Even in a dream, he would do the same as in reality.

But just as he was about to touch Jiyue, the other vanished from before his eyes.

Immediately after, that long-haired, pale figure appeared at the corner of the wall.

Under the moonlight, Jiyue stood motionless, his gaze calm and icy.

His thick long hair slowly drifted and spread in the windless room, like ink diffusing through water. A few strands brushed past Chen Zheqin's cheek — cold, a temperature that did not belong to the living.

Chen Zheqin reached out to grab the cuff of that black sweatshirt, and touched something else — the back of Jiyue's hand.

...Soft, slightly cool body, smooth skin. He had touched it not long ago.

Jiyue did not dodge. As if weary, he merely lowered his eyes and blinked lightly.

His dim blue pupils were like moonlight shimmering on water, about to go out.

Then he swept his sleeve and vanished completely.

As if he had never come at all. The bedroom was empty, leaving only Chen Zheqin's breathing, and the lingering sensation of physical contact.

------

[The male lead's good bro is seriously going to be driven to death by you — you just wore his sweatshirt right out of there!]

The system cackled with laughter.

Jiyue's room had a full-length mirror.

The moment he woke from the dream, he sat up and saw in the mirror the overly large black sweatshirt on his body.

He frowned, pulled it off by the collar, and tossed it onto the bed along with the watch.

Time flowed differently inside and outside the dream — dawn had already broken.

Jiyue yawned, walked to the kitchen fridge, opened it, and took a look. Nothing he wanted to eat.

The cushion in the living room had somehow been swapped for the style from the sofa in Zhong Xian's room. Zhong Xian had probably taken the wrong one.

Hugging the cushion, he walked toward Zhong Xian's bedroom, pushing the door open and going in like a cat.

There was no one in the bedroom at all.

Before dawn, the male lead had already left home — perhaps off gallivanting at that coffin shop again.

Jiyue slowly sat down on the bedroom sofa, cross-legged, head propped on his hand. He carefully looked the room over and found nothing unusual.

Walking to the desk, he saw a note left on the surface.

—Xiao Yue, I'll be back later, don't worry about me :)

[The male lead has always known you sneak into his room to snoop around, you know.]

"Miss, do you want the delivery boxes at your door?"

An old person's voice came from outside, accompanied by knocking.

This residential complex was fairly old; not many people lived here, mostly the elderly. Occasionally one or two old folks came up to knock, always pounding with great force, afraid the people inside wouldn't hear.

Today was overcast. The corridor was dark as night, with only a sliver of faint light leaking through the door crack.

Jiyue didn't go out during the day, unless it was rainy and overcast.

He helped the old person carry a stack of delivery boxes downstairs.

Downstairs, quite a few elderly people made a living collecting waste cardboard. Jiyue and Zhong Xian deliberately left their delivery boxes at the door; any old person who wanted them could take them.

He washed his hands by the flowerbed, shook off the water droplets, and was just standing up when, out of the corner of his eye, a silver convertible sports car swept past the entrance of the complex.

As a ghost, he was very alert toward humans.

[Hm? That's right — since when does our dump of a complex have cars that expensive?!]

With an agile flash, Jiyue cautiously ducked behind a tree, carefully listening to the sounds outside. He heard the sports car seem to stop midway; the owner exchanged a few words with an old lady. Too far away to make out the content.

Only after the convertible's engine sound had completely faded did he step out from behind the tree trunk.

People with special constitutions could tell at a glance that he wasn't human. The male lead's good bros all now knew Zhong Xian had fallen under an evil influence; they would surely find ways to target him, this fierce ghost. In the original novel, they invited quite a few Taoist priests and masters to the complex to perform rituals.

The old lady collecting recyclables, carrying a vegetable basket and humming a tune, walked toward the apartment building.

Jiyue drifted up behind her and called out softly: "Grandma, that car just now was from outside, right?"

The old lady was first startled by him; then, seeing it was this young lady, she excitedly lowered her voice: "Miss, let me tell you — of course it was from somewhere else. Said he was looking for Zhong Xian. He knew you live in Unit Thirteen, even knew the apartment number, and asked me if I'd seen Zhong Xian's girlfriend today. Aiya, I'm not stupid — I just said I hadn't."

"Did he say who he was?"

"Said he was a friend. The details, I can't quite remember." The old lady thought for a moment. "Looked pretty sharp, too. Driving that kind of car — not cheap, right? Wonder what his family does?"

Just then, the phone buzzed.

Gorgeous Straight Guy: [[Image]]

The straight guy sent a whole string of photos: the entrance of the complex, the foot of the apartment building, the corridor, and finally the doorway — Jiyue's back as he'd just entered the building.

He'd even photographed the orange cat Jiyue often petted downstairs, crouching by the flowerbed licking its paws, utterly unaware it was being photographed.

Gorgeous Straight Guy: [Heard your girlfriend is often home alone? How about I drop by to pay sister-in-law a visit? (puzzled)]

Jiyue stared at this line, wondering what it meant.

[These photos can't have been taken just now, right? Is the straight guy planning to come take you out?! Or is he just joking?]

Jiyue frowned slightly.

The old lady was still chattering, saying that once Jiyue broke up, she'd introduce him to a rich, handsome young man from a relative's family.

He brushed her off with a few vague "mm-hmms" and waved goodbye: "Goodbye, Grandma."

The moment he turned around and slipped the phone into his pocket, he pushed up his nonexistent reflective glasses.

The fierce ghost in the original story was as aggressive as those who opposed him.

[Since the straight guy is being this outrageous, we have no choice but to strike back hard!]

[But seriously, why do I feel like the straight guy has some kind of designs on you?]

[He can't actually be straight, right? You wear women's clothes, but you're fundamentally a man! This is a twisted love!]

Jiyue paid it no mind, tapped the screen, and rapidly sent the other party several messages.

[What exactly do you want?]

[What are you planning to do to my girlfriend?]

[How about this — let's meet and talk. Name a time.]

Since the straight guy had mistaken the person on WeChat for Zhong Xian, he might as well go along with the misunderstanding. Once there, he'd only need to see who the straight guy was, then take something of his, go home, and put a curse on the man.

The straight guy replied quickly.

[(location)]

It was a chain restaurant nearby.

[Talk in person.]

Jiyue was also curious about who exactly this gorgeous straight guy was.

He drifted lightly through the night, footsteps airy.

Arriving at the restaurant before the appointed time, Jiyue pulled his baseball cap low and, once seated, watched the customers coming and going.

Judging from his tone, the straight guy should be a young man.

Unfortunately, it was the weekend; the place was still lively at this late hour, table after table of young students from the nearby university district, eating, gaming, chatting, laughter nonstop.

Jiyue's gaze swept across those faces one by one.

The straight guy had surely come alone.

After filtering, Jiyue locked onto two tables.

The first was on the right: a young man with brown hair. His skin tone suggested frequent outdoor sports. He wore a black shirt, had a sharp, striking face, smiled readily at everyone, and was especially polite to the waiters. He'd ordered food but barely touched it, instead watching the window and the door the whole time.

The second was on the left: slightly older, around twenty-five, wearing a striped shirt and rimless glasses, a cold-featured face. Since sitting down he'd been looking at his phone, hardly looking up.

Which one was the gorgeous straight guy?

Holding his bowl of noodles, Jiyue moved to a table closer to the brown-haired man, diagonally opposite — just close enough to clearly see the other's phone movements.

Perhaps his observing posture was too obvious; the young man across quickly noticed him, and their gazes met in midair.

Jiyue didn't look away, holding the stare, waiting for him to message "Zhong Xian." If he was the gorgeous straight guy, he should message "Zhong Xian" saying he'd seen your girlfriend.

But after several minutes, the phone didn't stir at all.

Unwilling to waste his time, Jiyue carried his noodle bowl to the next table.

The refined glasses man also quickly noticed his gaze and looked up, casting a look through his lenses.

Jiyue sat eating noodles, waiting a while.

During that time, the phone was silent as the grave.

Growing a bit impatient, he messaged the straight guy: [Hey, are you here yet?]

No reply.

The refined man sat there, the dishes on his table untouched, chopsticks still unopened — and he wasn't looking at his phone either.

?

Jiyue expressionlessly slurped a noodle.

[People who don't eat properly and waste food should be beaten to death! What's the point of coming to a restaurant if you're not eating?!]

By the time he finished the noodles and went to the register to pay, he still hadn't received any message from the straight guy.

Just after paying, someone called out behind him: "Did you need something just now?"

Jiyue turned his face to look behind him.

It was the refined man with rimless glasses from earlier.

The clamor of the male college students formed the background noise, which abruptly quieted for a beat.

The register area was crowded and noisy. Jiyue crooked a finger, signaling the man to come closer to talk.

The man's eyes paused for a moment, then he walked toward him.

From onlookers' perspective, this was a long-haired girl in a strappy black dress, so beautiful one couldn't help taking a second look. A few of the male college students were itching to act, egged on by their buddies to come ask for her WeChat.

Under the lights — delicate, pale, with ice-blue eyes, an expressionless air — everything about her seemed unapproachable.

In the original male lead's recollections, it was mentioned that this ghost had always deceived him into thinking it was a girl, and wore skirts daily — probably some disgusting fetish.

Jiyue didn't care how others saw him, and made no explanations when misunderstood.

"Are you the straight guy?"

He asked the refined man.

[Uhhh, if this guy isn't the gorgeous straight guy, that question is super weird!]

Behind his lenses, the man's eyes rippled slightly. He paused a moment, then said: "Why do you ask?"

Answering with a counter-question just happened to prove he wasn't the gorgeous straight guy.

Jiyue instantly lost interest in him, turned, took his receipt, and left.

So the brown-haired young man from before was the real straight guy.

As it happened, that man was getting up to leave the restaurant.

He quickly walked to the door, faster and faster — charge!

Tonight, a fierce ghost would haunt someone.

At the entrance, several male college students wanting to hit on him came over with phones, stammering requests for his WeChat. Jiyue refused with a stern face: "Sorry, I'm very busy."

#FierceGhostIsBusy#

The night was deep; only a single moon hung in the sky.

He jogged all the way, skirt hem flying.

The crowd of college students ahead walked fast, talking and laughing. He stood on tiptoe, searching among those bobbing heads for a touch of light brown hair.

The straight guy was tall, standing out like a crane among chickens. He'd clearly seen the man up ahead just now, but in the blink of an eye he was gone.

The crowd flowed toward the subway entrance in front of the mall. Jiyue hurriedly pushed past two people's backpacks and squeezed through, but that figure had still vanished.

Too many people — he couldn't just float over; he'd scare too many.

Jiyue sighed and found a bench to sit on.

Just then, the phone buzzed.

He picked it up and looked. The gorgeous straight guy had sent a message.

[Image]

It was a live photo of him sitting in the restaurant eating noodles.

Scalded by the noodle soup, he couldn't help opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue a little.

[Mhm mhm mhm, why is this guy deliberately taking this kind of photo?! OMG, the mouth and tongue all red and moist, like someone's been sucking on them...]

The straight guy sent another line: [Your girlfriend is very cute, I like her. Saw her tonight too ^^.]

After reading that sentence, Jiyue's face turned completely cold.

What did that mean?

Threatening a ghost?

The system couldn't help laughing three times: [Hahaha! The straight guy is way too provocative, saying that to Zhong Xian! There's definitely a grudge — too bad Zhong Xian can't see this!]

'Are they really enemies?'

He thought about it.

[If he's an enemy Zhong Xian made in the infinite-flow instances, that's not surprising. With Zhong Xian's scam-loving personality, his enemies are countless. The straight guy might want to use you to get revenge on Zhong Xian — you need to watch out for him!]

'Mm, I'll be careful.'

Jiyue put the phone in his pocket, smoothed his skirt, and stared blankly at the night sky.

Moonlight bathed his face, cool and silken, making him feel a bit better.

By the time he came back to himself, the man was already right in front of him.

The brown-haired young man — or rather, the gorgeous straight guy — had circled around behind him at some point. Without a word, he bent down, pinched Jiyue's jaw, and tilted his face up, far exceeding normal social distance.

"Sister, why have you been following me all night? And Zhong Xian didn't even come?" The young man's voice carried a touch of laughter. "What kind of boyfriend is Zhong Xian, letting his own wife out in the middle of the night? You should trade in a man like that."

"You don't seem to be doing too well?" The man's thumb rubbed gently across his cheek a few times. "Your face is so hot — do you have a fever? Want me to take you home?"

"..."

The young man's fingers were hot and rough.

A scorching sensation spread across his face; a sandpaper-like touch scraped over his cheek.

Jiyue was a ghost after all, without a human shell; his body was somewhat feverish, and his head grew dizzier.

A bothersome gust of wind lifted his long hair, winding around the two of them like silk threads.

The straight guy lowered his head then, looking at this pale, delicate face — a small face, coverable with one hand — wearing a cold, freshly-widowed expression. Only the lashes trembled, while a suspicious thin blush floated up on the cheeks.

Can't be touched by any man but the husband, huh.

So pure?

"Get lost."

Jiyue coldly pushed him away.

Thoroughly satisfied, the straight guy let go, and even helped smooth Jiyue's wind-tousled long hair, like a patient boyfriend.

"Let me take you home, sister?"

"No need."

"Fine then. Sister, when you get back, tell Zhong Xian for me — what he owes me, he'd better pay back. Otherwise..."

The straight guy laughed softly, his gaze lingering on Jiyue's face for a while. That look turned tender and affectionate, sticky like honey that could be drawn into threads.

"Right — what's your name?"

The straight guy called out to stop him again.

Jiyue, cold-faced, turned and walked away.

Just you wait — I'll blast you with my corn cannon!

He walked fast; his skirt hem swept past the straight guy's knee. The man glanced down — the girl's calves had the sheen of cream, as if a pinch would leave them sticky to the touch.

"I heard him call you 'Jiyue' and 'Xiao Yue.' Which 'Ji'? There aren't many surnames with that pronunciation."

The straight guy's voice drifted over on the wind, haunting like a ghost, pressing right against his ear.

Jiyue walked quickly; with one turn he entered the subway station.

The carriage wasn't crowded. He found a seat by the side, sat down, and opened his hand — in his palm lay a cufflink.

A silver cufflink, inlaid with a deep blue stone that faintly glowed, rather like a dazed eye.

He closed the cufflink back into his fist.

Tonight, he'd give this man some fierce-ghost terror!

Just as he thought this, the phone buzzed.

Gorgeous Straight Guy:

[Actually, it was you who took Zhong Xian's phone to this meeting, right? (surprised)]

[Sister really is too cute. Today's dress suits you. (heart)]

Jiyue didn't understand how he'd figured it out.

Did he think that, given Zhong Xian's personality, he wouldn't agree to a late-night meeting?

[Though it's unclear exactly who the straight guy is, this person definitely isn't on the male lead's side. The original novel has many villain side characters — hard to say which one.]

Jiyue sent a message straight across:

[Who are you?]

The gorgeous straight guy's personality was as candid as his ID; he directly sent over a name.

[Kong Youzhuo].

Him?

Jiyue didn't have much of an impression of him.

The system swiftly pulled up the original novel excerpt: [The novel does mention he has an old grudge with the male lead. He appears in this part — Kong Youzhuo clashed with Zhong Xian in an instance, they couldn't stand each other, and Zhong Xian screwed him over. Of that whole team, only Kong Youzhuo survived.]

[But it never mentioned he'd come to the transit world for revenge!]

'Looks like we're in trouble.'

[Yes! Kong Youzhuo is a character who popped up out of nowhere — his next moves can't be predicted.]

[If Kong Youzhuo discovers Zhong Xian's girlfriend is actually a ghost, he'll definitely find a way to scatter your soul, so Zhong Xian never sees you again — losing his beloved!]

'Coming for me?'

Jiyue was a little displeased.

[Wait!! There could be another kind of 'losing his beloved'!!]

'?'

[NTR right in front of the husband! Publicly stealing the male lead's girlfriend, cucking him, doing this and that — that's also a passionate form of revenge!]

The system spun through the air in excitement: [My new program really does have lots of novel angles!]

'I don't think he wants to fuck me.'

Jiyue didn't take the system's words seriously.

His stop arrived. He got off the subway and walked home.

There were few pedestrians on the road.

Ghosts never fear the deep of night.

He reached the door. The whole apartment was pitch-black and silent; the tea gone cold still sat on the table. Zhong Xian still hadn't come back.

[Maybe the straight guy already took him out!] The system cackled.

Jiyue returned to the bedroom and locked the door behind him.

He took out the cufflink, placed it in his palm, and closed his eyes.

This cufflink let him sense another person's presence — heartbeat lively, breathing steady, already asleep.

Through the straight guy's consciousness, Jiyue entered the dream in an instant.

He picked up a paintbrush, swept his grand hand, and pinched a nightmare into shape.

----

Late night. A hospital. The moon hung high outside the window; cicadas rasped hoarsely.

A nurse in pink pushed open the door of the hospital room.

The nurse confirmed the patient in the bed: a brown-haired young man, eyes closed, the label reading the three characters "Kong Youzhuo."

The nurse glanced down at the bedside card, then turned and took a syringe from the trolley.

A dark blue liquid swayed inside the glass tube, the color of a witch's poison.

The wind carried in the whispers of passing orderlies: "This one's been hospitalized so long, and his family never visits. Poor thing."

Hearing the clink of metal from the trolley, Kong Youzhuo slowly woke.

He opened his eyes and saw the syringe in the nurse's hand glowing with an eerie blue light.

Standing before his bed was an unfamiliar nurse — pink uniform, nurse's cap, hair coiled at the back of the head, a blue mask covering half the face.

Above the mask was a pair of ice-blue eyes, very large, the corners tilting upward like a cat's.

Only the nurse's gaze looked extremely cold, as if looking at an unreasonably troublesome patient.

Kong Youzhuo stared at those eyes for a few seconds, then suddenly smiled: "My body feels awful, nurse. Can you examine me first?"

Jiyue frowned slightly.

He only wanted to cosplay a ghost nurse; he had no intention of actually examining a patient's condition.

"Where does it hurt?"

"Here."

Jiyue followed his gesture and looked down.

Something was tenting up the blanket.

[Holy shit, vulgar! He pitched a tent just like that? You're only wearing a nurse uniform — you're not even showing anything but your arms!]

The system turned into a green frog, shrieking and leaping.

[Mhm mhm mhm??? It's just nurse-patient play, is it worth getting that excited? What will you do when you wear a maid outfit, a sailor uniform, a sukumizu??]

"One shot will fix it."

Jiyue coldly raised the syringe at the patient, like a girl raising an axe in a horror film.

But just as he lifted the poison, his wrist was seized.

Kong Youzhuo's hand was large, his strength great, his fingertips rough — like an iron clamp. He twisted Jiyue's wrist bone inward, and in an instant heaven and earth flipped; Jiyue was pinned down on the hospital bed.

The medical chart flew from his hand and crashed to the floor; the nurse's cap fell who-knows-where. His long hair spilled loose like splashed ink, soaking the pillow into a patch of blackness.

Kong Youzhuo pressed down on top of him, one hand gripping both his wrists, the other braced beside his ear. He pulled off the nurse's mask, his breath grazing Jiyue's ear and temple hair, scorching hot.

Beneath him, Jiyue's face flushed with springtime red, a few strands of hair stuck to his cheeks with sweat, lashes trembling.

Only his gaze was frigid, his expression cold.

Jiyue said nothing, his eyes spelling out "you need electroshock therapy."

"Sister... I still don't know your name?"

Kong Youzhuo's voice was low, his breath pouring entirely over Jiyue's ear.

[Why did the straight guy suddenly turn into a dog in heat? This isn't an animal hospital for neutering procedures!] The system scratched its head in confusion. [Something seems off? Dreams are constructed jointly by human and ghost — did something go wrong somewhere?]

Expressionless, Jiyue pushed Kong Youzhuo's face away and turned his head — happening to see the line of text on the medical chart fallen on the floor:

Diagnosis: Impulse control disorder — sexual.

[What?! That disease is the legendary sex addiction!] The system yelled holy shit. [Oh no — you're really about to get fucked now!!]