Chapter 18: One More Husband, One More Home

Inheritance? What “ghost” inheritance?

The humble, flattering expression on the butler’s old face was barely holding on. He had just lain down to sleep when, before his eyes could even close, a ghost hand heavy with yin energy had clamped around his throat and dragged him out of bed.

The hand squeezed the loose skin of his neck, dragging him across the floor. He let out a wet, gurgling sound, desperately gasping out a single word: “Help…”

Could we please stop abusing the elderly?

He hadn’t said he was unwilling to help! If the Master wanted something done, couldn’t he just tell him directly?!

The entity said nothing. Most spirits were mute, or capable only of eerie, incoherent murmurs; only the most powerful malevolent spirits could mimic human speech.

The butler tried to struggle, but the ghost hand suddenly released him and tossed a card onto the floor. A trail of black blood snaked across the ground, barely forming two words: Inheritance.

What inheritance?

The butler was confused, but as he saw the ghost hand reaching for his throat again, he suddenly heard a soft thump-thump-thump of footsteps outside, like a small cat.

It was the kid from the Tan family.

The He family estate was vast. The head of the house and his wife lived in the main building. As He Xunye’s personal butler, he had lived there too, but after Tan Xueci arrived, he had been temporarily moved to this wing.

When Tan Xueci first arrived at the He residence, he didn’t dare leave his room. He walked silently, making no noise at all, trying to be invisible for fear of causing trouble or being disliked. After a few days, realizing that this building was mostly empty except for the butler and a couple of servants who were often away, his “silence” had evolved into a soft, pitter-patter of running around.

Hearing the “Young Madam’s” footsteps, the butler had a sudden flash of insight. Clutching his throat, he shouted, “I understand!”

The ghost hand gradually vanished.

Tan Xueci looked at the card, hesitating to take it.

“From now on, I will deposit 30,000 yuan into this card for you every month,” the butler added. “If it’s not enough, just let me know.”

Tan Xueci wasn’t used to people being kind to him. No one had ever given him allowance before. His mind went blank, his face flushed red, and he managed a helpless, “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, please!” The butler nearly knelt down to kowtow.

The He family hadn’t actually mistreated the Tans. After the engagement was finalized, He Wuling had transferred 10 million yuan to Father Tan’s account.

Beyond that, he gave the Tan family three commercial properties and numerous antiques and jade pieces. The dowry totaled at least 50 million yuan.

Furthermore, the alliance between the He and Tan families wasn’t hidden from the public; they simply hadn’t specified who was marrying whom. Having climbed into a relationship with the He family, Father Tan had seen his business flourish recently. He spent his days taking Mother Tan to various banquets, looking every bit like a member of the upper class.

How was the butler to know the Tan family had pocketed all that money and hadn’t given a single cent to Tan Xueci, leaving him to go out and pick up trash?

The butler wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, sighed, and left.

Tan Xueci held the card carefully. Although he didn’t know how much money was on it, for the first time, he felt that getting married was actually quite nice.

He even felt that if his husband were still alive, it would be even better. But then, if He Xunye were alive, he probably wouldn’t want to be his husband, nor would he like him as he did in the dreams.

Tan Xueci lay on the bed, his snowy-white cheek squished against the mattress. He must like me a little bit, right? he thought blankly. He hugs me all the time.

He couldn’t think of why anyone would like him, so he stopped thinking about it—any further thought would just make him sad. He took out his phone and started scrolling through videos.

Ever since his phone had started “acting up” and oozing blood, he hadn’t dared to look at it for days. Opening it now, he found that a fellow patient who loved “relationship guru” programs had forwarded him a new video.

Tan Xueci bit his finger, watching intently as a relationship guru in a suit spoke eloquently.

“One more husband, one more home. One more husband, one more card.”

“To avoid losing out in a marriage, remember this: When is a man at his most handsome? He’s most handsome when he’s spending money on you.”

“Men are better when they’re older; they die faster, they leave sooner…”

“…”

The air beside him gradually grew cold.

Tan Xueci listened with wide eyes, shouting in his heart, Master, I have realized the truth! He wanted to keep listening, but the phone resting against the pillow was suddenly pushed, falling over with a thud.

Tan Xueci was startled and instinctively rolled over, thinking another ghost had arrived.

The bedroom was quiet. He Xunye’s funerary photo looked as dark as deep water, but there were no ghosts. He grumbled to himself, turned back over, and continued to play on his phone while kneeling on the bed.

He had bad habits; no one had ever taught him anything. At home, his parents didn’t like seeing him, so he tried to live as silently as possible. He didn’t dare turn on the lights at night, and once he went out, he forgot that he was actually allowed to turn them on. So, he often played on his phone in the dark.

He wasn’t in the dark now, but the way he was kneeling on the bed with his bottom up was clearly “unruly.”

After listening to the guru for a while, the voice became hypnotic. Tan Xueci eventually fell asleep in that very position.

The teenager’s slumped waist was incredibly thin—it felt as if one could snap it with a single hand. All the “meat” on his body seemed to have gathered in that round, perky area. His skin was so fair that the parts usually covered were likely even whiter, like two soft, sweet mounds of snow.

In his sleep, Tan Xueci felt a bit cold. It felt like a damp, sticky breath, like a snake’s tongue, was drawing near. He rustled around and hid under the covers.

The icy breath didn’t seem to notice his resistance. It slowly lowered its head, burying itself in the blanket to take a deep breath before dissipating into the night like mist.

He slept for over three hours and woke up hungry. He sat on the bed in a daze for a while before remembering he hadn’t eaten dinner.

Lu Xi was busy and hadn’t taken him to eat. He had intended to eat at home, but when the butler suddenly gave him the card, he forgot all about it.

He tucked the card away and went out to find food. It was past midnight, and everyone was asleep. He pushed the door open cautiously, but as he stepped into the hallway, he felt something was off.

A chill ran down his back, but when he looked back, there was nothing. He sighed in relief, but as he turned to walk forward, cold sweat instantly soaked his spine. He nearly screamed.

A bloody, swollen head suddenly poked out from the door to his left. The man had kept himself very clean in life, but now his face was a strange greyish-purple, covered in liver spots.

It was Xu Zongdu.

The thing rolled out, and only then did he realize it had no body—it was just a head.

The head flew toward him.

Tan Xueci gripped the talisman pouch at his chest. He wasn’t the type to scream frantically when scared; instead, he tended to lose his voice unless the fright was extreme.

His eyes grew wet and red, his lips trembled, and in a low, shaky voice, he murmured, “Husband.” Then he turned to run, but before he could even take a step, he crashed into a broad, solid chest.

He Xunye pulled him into his arms. His dark “peach blossom” eyes were narrow and gloomy, half his face shrouded in the dim shadows of the hallway, carrying a heavy, oppressive coldness. On his pale, thin wrist, he wore a string of Buddhist beads. A cluster of deep red, almost black flames ignited in his palm, engulfing the head. In moments, it was burned to ash.

The surging, dark tongues of fire flickered like a blaze from hell, illuminating both their faces.

Tan Xueci watched, dazed. He suddenly remembered the night in the funeral hall when the paper effigies had also been burned. The butler said he was dreaming—was it really a dream? Held by the shoulder by He Xunye, he looked up, about to speak, when he heard hurried footsteps approaching.

He Wuling walked over with long strides, followed by the butler and several servants. In his hand, he held a sword made of lightning-struck peach wood.

His expression was solemn and sharp. Seeing the ashes on the floor, he frowned and asked Tan Xueci, “Where is the beast?”

Tan Xueci didn’t know who he was talking about, but his palms sweated slightly as he moved to shield He Xunye behind him.

His subtle movement didn’t escape He Wuling’s eyes.

He Wuling frowned and looked into the empty space behind the boy. He couldn’t see anything, but something should be there.

His rebellious son had always been difficult to control, and having died with immense resentment, he would likely turn into a malevolent spirit.

A human is a human, and a ghost is a ghost. Even if He Xunye was his son in life, he was nothing but an evil spirit in death.

He Xunye had been exceptionally talented since childhood, a standout among his peers and the entire He family. Such a person becoming a ghost would undoubtedly be more powerful than ordinary spirits.

As the head of the foremost family in the feng shui world, He Wuling couldn’t allow an evil spirit to run rampant. But destroying He Xunye completely would be difficult, so he decided to “tame” the ghost—to keep the malevolent spirit under his thumb.

Tan Xueci was the offering he had prepared for the ghost. If the ghost accepted the offering, he would be bound to the master’s use and control, unable to go out and harm people indiscriminately.

Actually, a direct offering would have sufficed, but He Xunye was notoriously defiant; he might not have been willing to return home on the seventh night after death. Thus, He Wuling had arranged a ghost marriage to forcibly summon him back.

His wife is here. Where else could he go?

But he never expected that He Xunye wouldn’t eat Tan Xueci. Tan Xueci’s “Pure Yin” birth chart made him a delicious feast for ghosts; logically, no spirit should have been able to resist such a temptation.

Fortunately, he had other preparations. He set up the “Three Yin Array” and offered the sacrifice again. This formation required a focal point—the Pure Yin offering—and two people with heavy yin energy to keep watch.

Zhang Chunping and Jiang Heng thought they were hired for their strong “yang” energy, but the opposite was true. This array was meant to trigger the ghost’s ferocity. Who would have thought that even after killing those two, He Xunye still didn’t lay a hand on Tan Xueci?

What is he planning?

He Wuling’s face was dark, his chest heaving. He nearly crushed the cold green jade ring on his thumb. Thinking of his eldest son’s notoriously lecherous reputation, he grew even angrier.

If I’d known, I wouldn’t have found him one this beautiful.

Maybe he really has taken a liking to the boy.

Evil spirits lack humanity, but they should be able to distinguish between a single meal and a steady supply. If he’s hungry, he can swallow a few lonely ghosts; but he only has one wife to hold and hug.

He Wuling had intended to plan carefully, but he had suddenly felt a ghostly presence enter the house.

The He family estate had perfect feng shui; it was impossible for ghosts to cause trouble. That ghost must have been let in intentionally by He Xunye—with sinister intent.

He Wuling’s face was covered in a layer of frost.

The evil spirit should be executed. But now was not the time.

“I’ll tell you once more,” He Wuling said, his brow tightening coldly as he pointed the peach wood sword at Tan Xueci. “If you don’t want to die, remember that humans and ghosts walk different paths. You cannot believe a single word a ghost says.”

Before, he had intended to use Tan Xueci’s life to save others—after all, one death was better than the evil spirit going on a killing spree later. But since the “ghost-taming” failed, he didn’t want to see Tan Xueci die in vain.

After all, it was he who caused Tan Xueci to be haunted by the spirit. He should take responsibility and protect the boy’s life.

Tan Xueci felt dizzy. Many things seemed to slide right through his brain without him understanding a single word. Even after He Wuling left with his people, he still hadn’t reacted.

Different paths for humans and ghosts?

Is he crazy?

He Xunye leaned down from behind and hugged him, his chin resting on the boy’s shoulder. The cold aura bound him tight.

Suddenly being embraced, Tan Xueci felt the other’s body—dead and devoid of warmth—but his own heart skipped a beat. His body heated up uncontrollably, and his snowy ears turned red. He looked back expectantly.

The evil spirit curled his lips, looking somewhat lazy. His cold fingers slipped into the collar of Tan Xueci’s shirt, sending a shiver through him.

Tan Xueci wanted to dodge, but then thought Mr. He probably didn’t mean it, so he forced himself to stay still.

He Xunye’s fingers rubbed against his chest, pulling out the red string and the talisman pouch underneath. His tone was tender and lingering, yet it inexplicably made one’s skin crawl as he whispered in the boy’s ear: “I’ve been wanting to ask… why is Xiao Xue carrying a ‘Ghost-Attracting Talisman’ on him?”