Chapter 15: Wrapped in Black Mist

His head felt heavy and dizzy, and several figures floated before his eyes, swaying without any pattern.

Pei Liu reached out instinctively, wanting to grab at them.

His consciousness was blurred, slowed down by the fever, and his brain felt like it couldn’t turn anymore.

He thought to himself, then reached out, curling his fingers toward the air.

It felt like he had grabbed something, but also like he hadn’t.

…So strange.

Pei Liu persisted, reaching out again with a soft, lethargic movement to grab.

“…”

The ghosts surrounding the bed seemed to have a series of dots trailing above their heads, left speechless and bewildered.

“What is he doing?”

“Looks like he’s trying to grab us?”

“He must be seeing us, right? Is this how a normal person reacts? Why isn’t he afraid?”

The ghosts wanted to know, too.

Pei Liu had completely baffled them, leaving them all in a state of utter confusion.

Generally, when a human is sick, weak, and afraid, their yang energy fluctuates and becomes unstable. At such times, if ghosts approach, they can easily erode and harm them with yin energy.

That was why things that were once invisible and untouchable would suddenly change.

But now, even though Pei Liu was clearly feverish and seeing them, his hands still passed right through their spectral forms.

This proved that Pei Liu didn’t think of them as ghosts at all, much less feared them.

His three “fires” might be weak, but he still had that final barrier—thin, transparent, yet abnormally solid. The ghosts couldn’t harm him.

Such a cruel reality was enough to anger a ghost to death.

“What do we do now?”

The headless ghost took off its head, held it, and looked pained and troubled.

The other ghosts couldn’t help but follow suit, removing arms, plucking out eyeballs, digging out hearts… all showing the same expression.

Delicacies were right before their eyes, visible but unreachable, leaving them only able to swallow their saliva in frustration.

Anyone would find that agonizing.

Moreover, even like this, they couldn’t bear to leave, each one turning into a monster guarding an exquisite feast—it was truly pathetic.

Pei Liu grabbed at the air for a while, lost his strength, and his arms felt sore and weak, so he lowered them again.

Because of the fever, his whole body felt hot, as if he were being roasted on a furnace; the heat spread to his limbs, making him feel miserable.

At times like these, people always want to hold onto something cold. Putting an ice pack on the forehead to cool down would be great.

However, Pei Liu’s room was chilly, which did a good job of dispersing the heat and making him feel comfortable.

Inadvertently, the ghosts had become Pei Liu’s air conditioning, and one with an automatic follow-function at that.

For this reason, even with the buzzing noise like flies by his ear, Pei Liu endured it.

Not long after, he frowned in dissatisfaction when the ghosts drifted out of the room one by one and the temperature rose back to normal.

The ghosts had suddenly drifted away, and naturally, there was a reason.

The extremely terrifying entity from the third floor had arrived.

They had never seen that entity’s face, but they could all sense his terrifying aura even when it was suppressed. Ghosts knew how to seek advantages and avoid harm; they fought when they found food, but when they sensed a danger they couldn’t counter, they slipped away decisively.

In the blink of an eye, the bedroom became very quiet, with only the sound of rapid breathing.

Pei Liu lay on the bed, his pale face flushed with a sickly crimson. He was struggling, his mouth slightly parted as he kept exhaling hot, damp breaths. Dense beads of sweat broke out on his forehead, sliding down his cheeks; his long, thick eyelashes became damp and clumped together, and against his reddened eye corners, it looked as if he were struggling and weeping.

A figure shrouded in thick black mist slowly approached and stood by the bedside.

The entity lowered his eyes, looking at the person on the bed with a blank expression.

His yang energy was fading, his illness was severe, and his body was shrouded in eerie ghostly energy—signs of someone on the verge of death.

He was as fragile as a piece of glass that would shatter at a touch.

Had he possessed even a shred of fear, he would have long since been devoured by the ghosts.

The black shadow furrowed his brows, somewhat displeased.

Ever since he had fed his own energy to this human, he had come to view this person as his own possession, yet now, he was tainted by the yin energy of other ghosts.

Black mist drifted from his body, strand by strand, filling the entire bed and coiling around Pei Liu, weaving into a special black cocoon. It completely enveloped Pei Liu—cold, viscous, and dense, leaving no gaps. The ghostly energy left by other spirits was instantly covered and expelled from his body, only to be devoured entirely by the shadow.

After a while, the cocoon slowly dissipated, revealing Pei Liu’s flushed face. His ears were red too, a color spreading to his neck and collarbone, making one wonder if the parts hidden beneath his collar were just as red.

The entity sat on the edge of the bed and fed him as usual, his fingertip landing on Pei Liu’s lips. A wisp of energy flowed like water down his throat and straight to his lungs. The icy temperature was exactly what the feverish Pei Liu craved at this moment.

Consequently, when the shadow finished feeding and went to retract his hand, Pei Liu instinctively grabbed it and rubbed his face against it to cool himself down. The brows that had been furrowed in discomfort relaxed, and he looked cozy and comfortable.

After rubbing for a while, he began to mumble and bite, treating the hand like an ice cube to gnaw on.

The entity didn’t stop him or get angry throughout the process, watching him fuss just like one would watch a little pet.

He didn’t care, but Pei Liu, after gnawing for a while, had accidentally consumed too much of the entity’s aura; his soul felt so full he felt like he was going to vomit.

Then, he decisively tossed the entity’s hand aside.

A classic case of burning the bridge after crossing—tossing it aside the moment he was done.

The entity looked down at him from above, his eyes narrowing slightly, a hint of danger glinting within his upturned, phoenix-shaped eyes.

Pei Liu had his eyes closed, sick and dizzy, his sharpness dropping drastically; he couldn’t perceive the threat right in front of him and instead busied himself with rolling into the quilt, humming and hawing in discomfort like an injured cub whimpering.

The entity stared at him for a while, his gaze sliding slowly from his reddened eye corners, his cheeks, and his neck—it was a beautiful color. The temperature he had felt at his fingertip earlier was also warm, like clean stream water that had been warmed by the sun.

A beautiful yet fragile human, one he could easily kill with a wisp of yin energy, yet one who could feed on his energy without being harmed.

The black mist behind the entity floated up and quickly condensed into different shapes, forming a wooden table and chair, with brush, ink, paper, and inkstone placed on top.

He suddenly had the urge to paint the person.

The entity sat down, picked up a brush, dipped it into ink with practiced ease, and looking at Pei Liu on the bed, sketched out his general outline on the rice paper with a few strokes.

The bedroom was very quiet, with only the sound of one person’s breathing and the subtle rustle of the brush against paper.

After a long while, the entity was absorbed in his painting, but Pei Liu, his throat dry from the fever, opened his damp, watery eyes and coughed twice, saying in a weak voice: “Water…”

He crawled up from the bed, swaying, and reached for the thermos on the nightstand. But having just woken up, his hands were weak and limp; he couldn’t even unscrew the lid. After trying several times, he turned his head to look at the blurred black shadow not far away. He couldn’t see what he looked like, only knowing someone was there.

“I want to drink water…” Pei Liu looked at him pleadingly, his eyes full of longing.

The entity continued his painting, ignoring him.

Pei Liu kept calling out, his sickly voice soft and limp, lacking strength, and carrying a hint of raspiness—sounding both cute and pitiful.

The hand holding the brush paused, and a drop of ink bled outward on the paper. The entity frowned, finally raising his eyes to look at this troublesome human with a hint of disdain.

Pei Liu looked back at him.

The two of them stood in a silent standoff, seeing who would concede first.

Finally, the entity let out a light, impatient tsk, stood up, walked to the bedside, and casually unscrewed the thermos. To keep him from bothering him further, he even poured the warm water into the cup lid and handed it to him.

Pei Liu took it with both hands and began to drink slowly, looking like an obedient little cat licking up water.

The entity stood to the side, watching in silence. Up close, he could see Pei Liu’s skin was delicate and smooth as jade—flawless, porcelain-white, and radiant.

Thinking of the painting he had just ruined, he suddenly realized that painting didn’t have to be on paper; he had heard of the benefits of skin as smooth as congealed fat. If bright, lush flowers were to bloom on his shoulders or chest, it would surely be beautiful as well.

The entity stared at Pei Liu’s neck, which trembled slightly as he swallowed, imagining the image with keen interest. It might be worth a try in the future.

Pei Liu, being watched, was completely unaware of the future danger, focusing entirely on finishing the cup of water. It wasn’t enough, so he drank another one before his parched throat was finally soothed, his eyes curving in satisfaction as he said politely: “Thank you.”

Then, he let out a sleepy yawn, lay back down, curled into the quilt, and closed his eyes to sleep.

The entity accepted the thanks openly, even giving his face a casual stroke with his fingertip, brushing against it as if petting a little lamb.

After a while, the sound of cautiously quiet footsteps came from outside the door.

The entity didn’t care.

The bedroom door was slowly and carefully pushed open, and a strange man poked his head in—it was a staff member who had come specifically to check on the patient.

He was supposed to have entered the room, but a ghostly wind hit him head-on, chilling him to the bone. Moments later, his mind went blank, and his body turned around as if outside of his control, silently retracing his steps.

After returning, the staff member naturally reported to the director that Pei Liu’s fever had broken and he was improving, so there was no need to worry. It was as if he had truly cared for Pei Liu.

Pei Liu slept for a long time and broke into a sweat, truly feeling much better.

However, his clothes were soaked through with sweat, and his hair hung limp against his forehead and neck, damp and uncomfortable.

Thus, Pei Liu pushed himself up from the bed and tugged at the fabric on his chest; the wet clothes clung to his skin, feeling chilly. He pushed off the quilt, moved sluggishly to the edge of the bed, and felt around blindly on the floor to find his slippers.

Finally putting them on, he grabbed clean clothes and headed to the bathroom, but since his illness wasn’t fully gone, his limbs felt weak and heavy from the sweating, and walking felt like stepping on cotton—lacking any solidity.

He didn’t notice the black shadow standing by the bedside at all.

The entity watched him sway slightly as if drunk and couldn’t help but suspect he might trip in the shower and drown. Humans are just too fragile.

After pondering it, the entity followed him, easily entered the bathroom, and leaned against the sink to watch.

A sick Pei Liu had become slow; the sense of being watched that he usually felt like a second skin was now completely unnoticed.

He stood under the showerhead, letting the warm water stream down his body and wash away the sweat. His cool skin took on a sense of warmth and a shallow flush—extremely beautiful. When he lowered his head, his collarbones formed deep hollows that accidentally held a pool of water, which swayed and flowed with his movements.

After a while, Pei Liu turned off the water and turned to grab a bath towel from the rack. The rack was on the wall beside the sink. He reached over, accidentally brushing past the entity’s shoulder, pulling their distance close. Warm breath drifted lightly against his ear, causing a wave of itchiness.

The entity remained expressionless and motionless, his gaze resting calmly on Pei Liu’s neck, where the pulse beat, exuding the fragrant aura of a living soul. If he leaned in slightly, he could take a bite and taste the delicacy.