Chapter 46 :Ghost Talking

“Ghosts want to tell me something?” I instantly recalled the calls I heard in my dream, and a cold sweat broke out all over me, my body involuntarily trembling.

“Yes, ghosts cannot directly communicate with humans.
If they want to communicate with the living, they must do so through indirect means, such as dream divination, soul-calling, and… the Bixian summoning you did yesterday,” Mo Qingyan said.

“But I don’t know those two ghosts at all.
Who are they?
And what do they want to tell me?” I asked, trembling.

“Hmm, based on you remembering them calling you ‘Bing’er’ in your dream, and that you’ve been to Xia Yubing’s house, even taking some items and donning her skin, I’m guessing the two ghosts you saw are Xia Yubing’s parents,” Mo Qingyan said.

“Ah?
Xia Yubing’s parents?
But I’m not Xia Yubing.
What do they want with me?
They won’t kill me just because I’m impersonating their daughter, will they?” I asked in a panic.

“Calm down, don’t panic.
Since they’re only causing ghost pressing on your bed and dream visitations, it means they don’t intend to take your life for now.
They just hope you can help them seek justice,” Mo Qingyan comforted.

“But the Painted Skin Ghost is already dead,” I said, puzzled.
The culprit who murdered them had been brought to justice, so why were they still bothering me?

“The Painted Skin Ghost is indeed dead, but they died tragically and are unwilling to rest.
Just now, you mentioned that Xia Yubing’s death was three days ago?” Mo Qingyan suddenly asked.

“Yes, at least her group chats and selfies stopped on that day three days ago; there have been no updates since,” I said, simultaneously wondering why Mo Qingyan brought this up.

“And you were attacked by the Painted Skin Ghost two days ago, which was the Zhongyuan Festival.
Buddhists call it Ullambana, and folk customs refer to it as Ghost Festival,” Mo Qingyan said.

“Hiss!
It really seems like the Ghost Festival.
No wonder the Painted Skin Ghost attacked me that day.” I recalled the white rice with chopsticks stuck in it at every household’s door that morning, feeling an inexplicable chill.

“Ghost Festival is the day when the gates of the underworld open, and ghosts return to the living world to enjoy offerings from their families.
It is also the time when yin energy is at its heaviest.
Xiao Qing daring to go to school to pick you up on Ghost Festival is particularly brave,” Mo Qingyan exclaimed.

“I, I didn’t think that much.
Fortunately, I didn’t encounter any major danger,” Ou Zhiqin said, patting her chest.
At that time, she also hadn’t thought much and just rushed out of her house.

“Thank you, Xiao Qing.
No wonder I saw so many ghosts and monsters at school and on the street.
So that’s why,” I said.
I had just gained the ability to see ghosts and malevolent auras then, and it almost scared me to death.
Xiao Qing daring to come and save me without a second thought on such a dangerous Ghost Festival moved me deeply.

“No need to thank me.
If I hadn’t come to pick you up, you might not have been able to go home that night,” Xiao Qing said.
In fact, the Painted Skin Ghost attacked again that very night; without Xiao Qing to save me, I would surely have died.

“But, what does this have to do with Xia Yubing’s parents?
Is it because of the Ghost Festival that they became ghosts and are now bothering me?” I recalled the topic we were just discussing.

“Almost.
You should also know some occult knowledge by now.
First, it’s not just that day that the Zhongyuan Festival has overwhelming yin energy; the yin energy starts rising two or three days beforehand, until the ghost gates fully open on the fifteenth day of the seventh lunar month.
It then takes a few more days for the yin energy to slowly recede.
So, the yin energy is very heavy during these three days, which is why the Painted Skin Ghost could recover so quickly and attack you multiple times consecutively,” Mo Qingyan explained.

“Hmm, I see.
No wonder its attacks were a bit too frequent,” I nodded.
The Painted Skin Ghost attacked me four times in two days, and each time it was severely wounded and fled, yet it would fully recover and attack again the same day.
Even including killing and absorbing blood energy, its recovery was too fast, making me think it was invincible for a while.
It turns out the Ghost Festival and yin energy were influencing factors.

“And in some folk traditions, the Zhongyuan Festival is set on the fourteenth day of the seventh lunar month, with the fifteenth being the actual Ghost Festival.
Some places even celebrate a three-day Zhongyuan Festival, as the first three days are when the yin energy peaks,” Mo Qingyan added.

“Xia Yubing and her parents were murdered three days ago, which was the fourteenth day of the seventh lunar month, the first day of the Zhongyuan Festival.
Because of the excessive yin energy and their tragic deaths, her parents’ souls did not disperse; instead, they lingered in the human world and became resentful spirits.”

“But ultimately, I’m not Xia Yubing.
And the Painted Skin Ghost is already dead.
What more do they want from me?” I asked, distressed.
Unexpectedly, while the Painted Skin Ghost problem was solved, I was now entangled with two dead ghosts.

“Well, I don’t know.
How about we play the Bixian game again and ask the spirits?” Mo Qingyan asked again.

“No way?
I still owe those Bixian blood, and now you want to ask Bixian again?” I was a little afraid of seeing those ghosts.

“That time, we needed to ask Bixian for help with an attack.
This time, it’s just normal questioning and doesn’t require payment.
As long as we follow the taboos, nothing major will happen.
Besides, this is a good opportunity to repay their blood, lest we have future troubles,” Mo Qingyan said.

“Is that so?
Alright, I’ll ask then, but what about the blood?” I gritted my teeth and agreed, just worried about how to give the blood to those Bixian.
If I didn’t, I would encounter disaster, so I was anxious to repay the debt.

“Use a blood collection needle and blood bag.
You’re lucky; in ancient times, inviting gods often required cutting open one’s hand to release blood,” Mo Qingyan said, taking out a vacuum-sealed medical blood collection bag.

I checked it.
Indeed, it was an unopened, disposable blood collection needle, sterilized.
I wondered where Mo Qingyan found such medical equipment.
I didn’t quite dare to look, so I let Mo Qingyan draw my blood.
She skillfully inserted the needle into my vein, then into the vacuum blood bag.
Blood immediately flowed into the blood bag through the tube.
She definitely wasn’t doing this for the first time.

“Let it draw like this for now.
Let’s begin,” Mo Qingyan said, already setting out a new white paper.
It still had “Yes” and “No” written on it, as well as numbers.
The previous white paper had been burned by Mo Qingyan afterward, but the red pencil was still the same one.

“Good.” I placed my left hand, which was drawing blood, in a comfortable position nearby.
My right hand rested on the red pencil.
Xiao Qing also wanted to reach out, but Mo Qingyan said, “This time it’s just a few simple questions; there’s no urgent crisis like the Painted Skin Ghost.
Xiao Qing, you don’t need to participate.”

“Alright.” Xiao Qing withdrew her hand.
This time, only Senior Sister Mo and I placed our fingers on the pencil, set it on the paper, and softly chanted the incantation: “Bixian, Bixian, you are my past life, I am your present life.
If you wish to continue the connection, please appear.”
A cold gust of wind blew through, and the hanged female ghost and the inverted male ghost appeared on opposite sides of the table.