Chapter 19: The Ghost-Attracting Talisman

A sudden chill ran down the back of Tan Xueci’s neck. A Ghost-Attracting Talisman? He felt the contents of the pouch; it felt like powder. Wasn’t it supposed to be He Xunye’s ashes?

But he found it difficult to think straight. He Xunye’s hand hadn’t fully withdrawn; the wide collar of his hoodie had been pulled open slightly, and if he looked down, he could see his own pale, thin chest.

Tan Xueci’s ears turned a deep crimson, and he wanted to tell He Xunye to move his hand, but since he was the one being “exposed,” he was too embarrassed to speak. His eyes began to mist over, and he didn’t even dare to cover himself. With a face flushed bright red, he turned to look at He Xunye.

As if only just realizing his actions, the evil spirit slowly and deliberately withdrew his hand, saying in a gentlemanly tone, “My apologies.”

“I-it’s okay,” Tan Xueci whispered.

He Xunye held the talisman pouch, leaning close to the boy’s ear. His ruby-red lips curled into a beguiling smile as he whispered, “Xiao Xue, why don’t you take it off?”

Tan Xueci’s mind was in a whirl. Why would He Wuling give me a Ghost-Attracting Talisman?

He decided to open the pouch and look inside. Sure enough, there was a small piece of yellow talisman paper that hadn’t burned completely, along with some ash.

Tan Xueci’s scalp went numb. He reached up to take it off, but seeing He Xunye’s pale, inhumanly handsome face and the faint, flickering red in his eyes, he paused.

He Xunye lowered his head and rubbed his nose against the boy’s. “What’s wrong, Xiao Xue?”

Tan Xueci flushed at the contact, but his back remained stiff and tense. He had a strange, sudden feeling.

What if the one lying to me is He Xunye?

There were many kinds of talismans. Since this one was burnt, it was unrecognizable. It wasn’t necessarily… a Ghost-Attracting Talisman, right?

“It’s alright if you don’t take it off,” He Xunye said, noticing the hesitation on the boy’s pale cheeks. He comforted him, “It probably lost its power the moment you touched it. Those ghosts were attracted to you because your own yin energy is too strong.”

Tan Xueci blinked, confused. “Why?” He hadn’t done anything that should have made a talisman fail.

“Xiao Xue,” He Xunye’s dark eyes looked at him tenderly as he poked his little wife’s soft cheek. “Have you noticed anything unusual lately?”

Tan Xueci frowned. There was something. The strangest thing was that in the past, ghosts couldn’t touch him—they could only scare him. But recently, they had become aggressive, even physical, like that ghost infant.

So soft. He Xunye thought. He feels like he’d be soft enough to bite.

He Xunye lowered his gaze, his eyes dark and sticky as they fixed on a small patch of Tan Xueci’s snowy skin. His voice dropped to a low, husky murmur. “You have conflicting things on your person. This talisman has heavy yin energy; it canceled out the protection you had, causing it to fail.”

Tan Xueci suddenly remembered something. He didn’t actually have a name until he was six; his family just called him “Xiao Guai” (Little Well-Behaved One). His mother had given him the lamb plushie, saying she hoped he would be a good child, like a little lamb.

It wasn’t until he was six that a wandering old monk passed by the Tan house and wrote the character Ci (Compassion/Mercy). His father took that character to a master to name him, and thus he became Tan Xueci.

Though he was slow to learn writing, his memory was excellent. He remembered everything from a few months after his birth until now.

Back then, his mother hadn’t spoken to or hugged him for a long time. That day was the only time she had taken his hand and led him outside.

Before he turned six, ghosts could touch him. He remembered the first time he encountered one—the severed head under his mother’s bed that kept rolling into his shins. After he got his name at age six, he could still see them, but they could no longer touch him.

He even remembered a ghost trying to bite him and failing; it got so angry it pulled its own head off, which gave him a high fever that night.

Over the last few years, the ghosts had been getting closer and more aggressive, their hunger visible, but they still couldn’t touch him—until the night of the paper effigies from the He family.

“That character Ci was likely a protective mantra, one of ultimate light and yang energy,” He Xunye said, his deep-set eyes shrouded in the hallway’s shadows. “Over a decade, its power weakened, and then it was completely dispersed by that yin-heavy talisman. That’s why it can no longer protect you.”

“As for the paper effigies, they aren’t entirely spirits. They’re just paper dolls, so it’s normal for them to be able to touch you.”

Tan Xueci was stunned. If I don’t count the paper dolls… then it really was after He Wuling gave me the pouch that the ghosts started being able to touch me.

“Take it off,” He Xunye said, holding the boy’s shoulders and turning him to face him. He pulled him into an embrace, rubbing his lips against the top of the boy’s head. “Does Xiao Xue not trust me?”

His tone held a hint of grievance, as if Tan Xueci had done something terrible.

Tan Xueci shook his head quickly. “N-no, that’s not it.”

He Xunye held him tightly. Buried against the man’s chest, Tan Xueci’s fingers curled. At first, he didn’t dare, but seeing that He Xunye didn’t pull away, he reached out and hugged the man’s waist, looking up at him expectantly.

They were so close their breaths mingled. If He Xunye lowered his head just a bit, he would kiss the tip of the boy’s nose.

Tan Xueci’s face reddened, and he was speechless. The man’s embrace wasn’t warm, but it was broad and gentle—the kind of gentleness that made one want to stay forever.

Should I take it off?

Tan Xueci’s heart was racing. He felt a strange fear, but he also didn’t want He Xunye to be angry or ignore him. Would he never see him again?

Tan Xueci bit his lip, his nose and eyes turning a faint red. Seeing the boy’s damp lashes, He Xunye said considerately, “It’s okay. It’s useless now anyway, so it doesn’t matter if you wear it or not. If you’re scared, you can keep it on.”

“Husband,” Tan Xueci looked up, hugging him. “Are you angry?”

When He Xunye was cold, he looked sharp and handsome, but his “peach blossom” eyes gave an impression of affection and favoritism. He said, “No. I won’t be angry with you.”

Tan Xueci was still conflicted.

He Xunye seemed to truly not care about the pouch anymore. He asked, “What did Xiao Xue come out to do just now?”

Tan Xueci: ! Eat!

“Go back inside,” He Xunye said. “Butler Xu will bring you food.”

Tan Xueci was confused. He hadn’t told the butler anything; how would he know? But He Xunye guided him back toward the bedroom by the shoulder, so he followed.

Half an hour after sitting down, hurried footsteps sounded in the hallway. The butler, dressed in a black Chinese tunic like a relic from a tomb, brought a tray. He smiled and said, “Young Master Xiao Ci, it was a bit rushed. I didn’t have time for much, so here is some braised beef from tonight and a bowl of noodles.”

Tan Xueci swallowed. The beef looked tender and flavorful, and the thin noodles were garnished with ham and bok choy. The butler had even added some chili oil, making it look very appetizing.

He never got good food at home. After Lu Xi took him for malatang, he discovered he loved spicy food; now, he added chili oil to almost every meal.

The butler bowed and backed out of the room. Once he was gone, He Xunye sat across from Tan Xueci and handed him chopsticks. “Eat.”

Tan Xueci was indeed hungry and began to eat.

He Xunye stared at the boy’s lips. Tan Xueci’s skin was so white it made his lips look full and crimson. His tongue was even redder and very soft—and sensitive; it would move reflexively when held, as if he were actively licking.

After a few bites, Tan Xueci looked up. “Husband, aren’t you eating?”

He offered the chopsticks, then remembered he had already used them. Worried that He Xunye might mind, he looked at him tentatively.

He Xunye hesitated. He looked at the altar in front of his funerary photo, then at his little wife who was busily eating.

Eat what? He forgot to light incense for me again.

“Husband won’t eat,” He Xunye said, his eyes dark under the light. He seemed to smile. “You eat.”

Tan Xueci continued eating, wondering if he could ask He Xunye to stay with him when it was time for bed. Would that be inappropriate?

Tan Xueci’s face flushed on its own, but they were married; it should be okay to sleep together.

He hadn’t decided how to ask, but by the time he finished half the bowl and looked up, He Xunye was gone.

“…”

Tan Xueci stared at the empty chair, his eyelashes drooping. Suddenly, the noodles didn’t taste as good.

But he wasn’t a picky eater and didn’t like to waste food. Despite his lack of appetite, he finished the rest before setting the bowl down.

With a fallen face, he went to shower and crawled into bed. Looking at He Xunye’s spirit tablet and the empty incense burner, he felt he’d forgotten something but couldn’t remember what.

He was no longer afraid of the tablet; even with it right next to him, he could sleep and wouldn’t be scared if he woke up at night.

He whispered a soft “Goodnight” and closed his eyes.

Late into the night, amidst the silence, Tan Xueci slept soundly clutching his lamb. A dark shadow gradually solidified beside him.

“So naughty,” the shadow murmured in a hoarse, low voice. It buried its face in the boy’s snowy neck. “Let’s eat something else instead.”