Chapter 20: Cleaning up the scene

I voiced my doubts to Xiaoqing, and she sighed softly.
“Do you think it’s so easy to make the ancestors intervene? Unless the spirit invades the ancestral hall itself, they won’t lift a finger.”

“The ancestors only protect the bloodline descendants within the hall’s boundaries. In the countryside, clans often build ancestral halls that are large enough to cover wide areas. If something unclean appears, you just run inside and you’ll be safe. But my family’s hall is rather small, so its range of protection is limited.”

“Wait a minute… if the ancestors only protect those inside the hall, then you weren’t standing inside, were you?” I looked at her in puzzlement. She had clearly still been outside, a step or two away from the entrance.

“Heh, luckily I made it in time.” Xiaoqing raised her hand. I noticed for the first time that her fingertip had been cut open, fresh blood dripping down.

At the threshold of the hall was a blood-stained fingerprint. At the very last moment, Xiaoqing had reached in and touched the doorframe, marking herself as being within the ancestral hall’s protection.

“You… you used yourself as bait? Just to force the ancestors’ hand against the Painted-Skin Ghost? Why take such a risk? You could’ve just stayed in the hall from the start!” My heart ached at the thought—this was far too dangerous.

“That ghost isn’t stupid. If I’d hidden in the hall from the beginning, it never would’ve entered. It would’ve just gone after you. But you’re not of my bloodline. Even if it killed you right in front of the tablets, the ancestors wouldn’t have cared. Only when the Painted-Skin Ghost directly attacked me would they be compelled to act.” Ouzhi Qing explained matter-of-factly.

“But using yourself as bait… that’s reckless. You strapped the bronze mirror to your back to protect yourself, sure, but what if it had clawed at your chest instead?” I still couldn’t help worrying.

“Relax. I had that covered too.” From under her torn nightdress, Xiaoqing pulled out a jade ruyi. She had hidden it in front of her chest, a safeguard against the ghost trying to dig out her heart.

I stared at her with a mix of awe and gratitude. From the very start, she had intended to lure the Painted-Skin Ghost into attacking her so the ancestors would strike back. The talisman she used earlier had only been to draw its attention. Even with protective artifacts, this was still a gamble with death. One wrong move, and she could’ve been gravely injured.

“Still, taking a bit of risk was worth it. We didn’t kill the Painted-Skin Ghost, but we seriously injured it. Tonight it won’t dare to come back here. Let’s just get some sleep—we still have school tomorrow morning.” Ouzhi Qing said with calm certainty.

“Huh? We’re still going to school after all this?” I was dumbfounded. Honestly, Jiànlóng High had already left a shadow in my heart. The thought of going back there made me uneasy.

“Of course we are. What, do you plan on hiding at my house forever? Even if I agreed, my parents wouldn’t. And besides, the Painted-Skin Ghost isn’t dead. It will keep coming after you. The only way out is to find Senior Sister and get her help.”

Xiaoqing had mentioned this Senior Sister more than once already. Supposedly, she was the president of the Supernatural Affairs Club. Xiaoqing held her in very high regard, and it was this same Senior Sister who had warned Xiaoqing I might end up in danger. Hopefully, she really did have the ability to save me.

It was then that I spoke up, feeling rather embarrassed.
“Uh… could you lend me another nightdress?”

“Huh? Why?” Xiaoqing blinked in confusion, then glanced down—only to see the hem of my nightdress soaked through. Her lips twitched, and she couldn’t hold back a laugh.
“…Did you seriously wet yourself from fear?”

Here’s the translation of this passage, keeping it faithful, immersive, and consistent with the previous style, including the tension, embarrassment, and the supernatural context:

My face flushed with embarrassment.
“No! It’s not what you think! I… I’d been holding it in all the way from school, and just now, when the Painted-Skin Ghost was choking me and I couldn’t breathe, I lost control. That’s why I… peed.”

“Ah? Then why didn’t you just go to the bathroom earlier?” Xiaoqing asked, puzzled. Her question only made me feel even more ashamed.

There was no way I could tell her that, after becoming Xià Yùbīng, I couldn’t bring myself to see the image of the school goddess—my idol—urinating, and I wasn’t used to it. So I had been holding it in all this time.

I had to make up an excuse: “I didn’t get a chance before leaving school, and afterward I was too nervous to remember.”

If those rowdy boys at school ever saw it, the image of the goddess Xià Yùbīng wetting herself would be utterly shattered… though, for some of them, it might be exciting.

Xiaoqing seemed to sense my awkwardness. She didn’t comment, only shook her head.
“I can’t help you there. I don’t have any other nightdress left either. I don’t even have one to wear myself.”

Her situation was worse than mine. A claw from the ghost had slashed across her shoulder and chest; the blood had already turned black. Her back had been clawed too. The bronze mirror had saved her from serious injury, but it still tore a large gash in her nightdress. The garment was practically ruined.

In the end, Xiaoqing pulled out two shirts, just enough to cover her body. I, of course, had nothing on underneath the nightdress, as before—but at least it had been bare; otherwise, I’d have ruined another pair of underwear.

Tending to ghost-inflicted wounds was the priority. If left untreated, the corrupted energy would quickly rot the flesh. Xiaoqing had no Ling Water left, but luckily, my jade pendant could purify the malevolent energy.

She couldn’t hold the pendant herself—the purification was far too slow. Only with me placing the jade against her wound directly could the corrupt energy be cleansed quickly.

Xiaoqing had to half-remove her shirt, exposing her shoulder and chest scars, letting me place the jade against her wounds. She winced painfully at every touch, looking fragile and pitiful.

“The spirit left in this jade is all from your grandmother. She probably spent her entire life charging it. Only someone closest to her—you—can wield it. In novel terms, the artifact has recognized its master,” Ouzhi Qing explained.

Soon, the blackened wounds began turning red again, fresh blood slowly seeping out—proof that the corruption had been cleansed. All that remained was disinfecting and bandaging.

After tending Xiaoqing’s wounds, I looked at the jade pendant. Once crystalline green, it had dimmed considerably, now resembling ordinary white jade.

I realized that after saving me twice from the ghost and purifying Xiaoqing, the jade had expended a huge amount of spiritual power—power my grandmother had spent a lifetime cultivating, now mostly gone in a single day.

If the Painted-Skin Ghost continued its pursuit, there was no telling how long this jade could still protect me. It was far from infinite. Without another solution, my path was still a dead end.

After bandaging Xiaoqing, we cleaned up the scene together—returning the overturned furniture, wiping away stray blood. Since Xiaoqing was injured, I did most of the work.

Once the room was at least superficially restored, I finally crawled into bed with Xiaoqing to sleep.