Chapter 26: Arranged Marriage

In life and in death, this was the first time He Xunye had ever heard such childish protection—as if since those people were mean to him, Tan Xueci simply wouldn’t play with them anymore.

Tears streamed down Tan Xueci’s pale little face. As he lay on He Xunye’s back, he bit his finger and sobbed quietly for a while, but he still couldn’t set his mind at ease. He reached out to pull at He Xunye’s collar.

His husband couldn’t be covered in bloody holes from the nails right now, could he? That would be terrifying. What if he woke up in the middle of the night and got the fright of his life?

He was truly a bit angry now. It was bad enough bullying him, but they had to bully his husband too? Was he really such a pushover?!

Just wait until he finished secretly digging up the grave; he’d scare them all to death.

The damp, cold drizzle of the night drifted down, covering them. Even an evil spirit would find it somewhat uncomfortable, let alone having a damp, icy little hand constantly groping inside his clothes. After the shoulder wasn’t enough, the hand moved to his chest, seemingly satisfied, and pressed against his pectoral muscle without moving, rumpling his suit jacket into a mess.

The evil spirit turned his head. A few strands of slightly damp black hair fell, brushing past those cold, lusterless peach-blossom eyes. He asked in a voice both tender and chilling, “Baby, what are you feeling for?”

Truly naughty.

He had clearly promised to be obedient and proactively puff out his chest for that specter to touch, yet not only had he failed to do so, he had even picked up bad habits—touching another man’s chest, and with such practiced ease.

He Xunye suddenly remembered that his wife had an ex-boyfriend. So, did He Sui used to let his wife touch his chest often to seduce him?

Tan Xueci’s face turned bright red, as if he had only just realized what he was doing. He quickly withdrew his hand and stammered softly, “Sorry, Hubby. I… I wanted to see if you had any wounds on your body.”

He Xunye raised his dark eyes, seemingly hesitating, but still asked in a strange tone, “Baby, do you want to see my body?”

Tan Xueci: “…”

That seemed right, yet also wrong. He did want to see, but why did it sound so strange when He Xunye said it? A sudden sense of illicit romance filled the air.

“You can,” the evil spirit was considerate and generous to his little wife, seemingly willing to give even his body. He coaxed in a gentle voice, “Baby, do you want to see it here? But this mountain used to be a mass grave; there should be many lonely ghosts and wild spirits around. How about we wait until we get home? Hubby will undress and let you look all by yourself.”

Stop, stop, stop!

Hearing about “lonely ghosts and wild spirits,” Tan Xueci couldn’t help but shiver. He hugged He Xunye even tighter, wishing he could fuse onto his body. And what on earth was He Xunye talking about!

Tan Xueci was dumbfounded, his snowy ears flushed red. He sputtered for a long while, not knowing how to counter.

It made it seem like he was especially greedy for his husband’s body, unable to resist stripping him even next to someone else’s grave.

Was he really that bad?

The rain gradually grew heavier. Tan Xueci held an umbrella over both their heads. The mountain path was steep and muddy, but He Xunye’s steps were steady and his shoulders were broad. He felt that even if he didn’t hold onto him, He Xunye wouldn’t let him fall.

Although He Xunye looked dangerous—and in reality, wasn’t exactly “safe” either—whenever he was truly in danger, He Xunye became his only source of security.

Tan Xueci lowered his head, burying his fair, elegant nose against the back of the spirit’s neck. His hot breath brushed against him. Just a moment ago, he had been whimpering and fussing about touching a man’s chest, but now he had gone limp again.

“Why are you unhappy, Baby?” He Xunye asked.

Tan Xueci froze. He hadn’t said a word, and he didn’t know how He Xunye could sense his unhappiness. This feeling was very strange. Back when he was at home, he could cry until his face was flushed and his voice was too hoarse to make a sound, yet no one would ever ask:

Baby, why are you unhappy?

It was as if his happiness actually mattered.

Tan Xueci’s lashes blinked, and tears fell unexpectedly. His throat felt stuffed and blurry. He hugged He Xunye’s neck tight, unable to speak. He Xunye didn’t rush him; he just continued walking forward with him on his back, waiting patiently.

It was like waiting for a damp little clam to open its shell on its own, or waiting for a little hermit crab hiding under a reef to crawl out by itself, rather than violently dragging him out.

Regardless of why Tan Xueci had run up this mountain in the middle of the night—in short, he was both timid and terrified of ghosts, yet he had still run up here to dig a grave without hesitation. His palms were slightly chafed and red, and his snowy cheeks were filthy, yet he still clung to He Xunye and rubbed against him, asking stickily if his husband was in pain.

And regardless of what He Xunye’s motives were—why he hadn’t devoured Tan Xueci, who was overflowing with yin energy, and instead acted as his husband—the point was that He Xunye was truly gentle to him. It was the kind of gentleness that could make Tan Xueci burst into tears the moment he met his eyes.

The moonlight reflected in patches like water. They didn’t speak, falling into a long, tacit silence.

Tan Xueci gripped the fabric of the suit on He Xunye’s shoulder, clenching and releasing. His plump, crimson lips moved a few times before pressing tight. Finally, he called out in a small voice, “Hubby.”

This “Hubby” was called with exceptional sincerity. The corners of the spirit’s lips seemed to lift slightly as he asked, “What is it?”

“Am I… especially stupid?” Tan Xueci asked in a wilted, small voice, his eyes wet and red. “Did I do something stupid?”

He realized that the coffin looked very strange. He had nothing; everything had been snatched away by A-Yan. He only had one husband.

But He Xunye looked perfectly fine now. That coffin had been sealed for a long time. He had run out in the middle of the night, struggled for so long, nearly scared himself to death on the mountain, and might even have been discovered by the He family. In the end, he hadn’t been able to dig anything up.

He was useless.

His family often scolded him for being a fool who was more than capable of ruining things but incapable of accomplishing anything. At first, he hadn’t wanted to admit it.

He had even secretly learned to write, wanting to prove he wasn’t a little idiot and that he could study well just like A-Yan.

With great difficulty, he had learned to write his parents’ names and excitedly took it to show them. But his mother’s eyes were full of terror, as if she were seeing something horrifying. She snatched the paper, tore it to shreds, slapped him across the face, and screamed: “Who told you to write?!”

That same night, his mother fell ill, and his father scolded him again, calling him a worthless fool.

No matter how much he wanted to prove himself, in the end, it seemed he still couldn’t do anything right; he only knew how to cause trouble for others.

Tan Xueci couldn’t help but start biting his finger again, nearly biting the nail until it bled. His finger turned bright red. As a wave of self-loathing surged, his body felt much heavier. If He Xunye weren’t still carrying him, he might have sat on the ground and been unable to get back up. Then people would point at him and say: You are such a burden. Why are you always so sickly? You’re cursed, and you’re going to ruin our family.

Fool.

Go die.

Tan Xueci bit his finger painfully. Strange sights and sounds filled his vision. The blurry rainy night seemed full of ghostly shadows, and the ethereal white mist and drizzle became tangled, vengeful spirits.

They were going to swarm him and tear him to pieces. So many ghosts, all of them ghosts, grinning at him with malice.

“Tan Xueci.”

It wasn’t until the man’s cold, low voice rang out that the chaotic scenes in Tan Xueci’s mind were suddenly interrupted. He then realized they had almost reached the He residence; before them was the rain-slicked street of the capital.

“No,” He Xunye set him down. The spirit’s narrow dark eyes curved, and he poked Tan Xueci’s cheek, creating a small dimple in the soft, snowy flesh. He said, “You did very well. Thank you.”

Tan Xueci’s cheek was poked. He swayed dizzily for a moment. Meeting the man’s handsome, upright face and those dark, deep peach-blossom eyes—which seemed naturally full of affection—his heart skipped a beat, thumping wildly. He couldn’t help but bite his lip.

It was as if doing so could stop his heart from pounding.

His plump lips were pressed down by his white teeth, making that soft flesh look devastatingly red—perfect for being kissed. A few sucks would leave them swollen and misty.

“Good boy,” the spirit’s gaze grew sticky. He asked enticingly, “Since Baby is so good, do you want a reward?”

Tan Xueci felt a bit lightheaded. There’s such a thing? I went to dig up someone’s grave, and they’re giving me a reward?

A flush spread across his pale cheeks. He swallowed nervously and said, “I… I want it…”

The spirit’s cold, broad palm cradled the back of his head. Tan Xueci’s body was forced to sway. Instinctively, he gripped He Xunye’s jacket. He stumbled as he stood on his tiptoes. The distance between them vanished instantly; he could almost feel the cold, damp breath of the evil spirit.

Right then, a flurry of footsteps suddenly rang out from the He family’s main gate not far behind them.

The butler hurried out with several people. He had intended to get into a car, but when he looked up and saw Tan Xueci, he hurriedly shouted: “Young Master Xiao Ci!”

“Tsk.” The blood-red depth of the spirit’s eyes surged and flickered. He let out an annoyed click of his tongue.

Tan Xueci heard someone calling him and instinctively turned his head. By the time he turned back, He Xunye had already vanished.

“Young Master Xiao Ci!” The butler, wearing a black robe, ran over drenched in sweat. He said anxiously, “Why did you go out in the middle of the night? I was just about to go look for you.”

Tan Xueci was a bit unhappy. He was less than ten meters from the door; he had wanted his husband to see him home.

His pale, thin face looked like a vengeful ghost in the night—gloomy and cold. The butler inexplicably shivered.

Tan Xueci gave him a ghostly look, then walked upstairs with his little backpack. He was chronically ill, and after climbing a mountain and digging a grave at night, his strength was spent. Passing the second floor, his gaze caught something by accident. He was so terrified that his legs went weak, and he collapsed onto the floor, trembling all over.

At the end of the second-floor hallway stood a woman in white. Her long, pitch-black hair was loose, and her face was pale and dull, looking like a pre-prepared corpse that had been frozen in a morgue for half a year.

Tan Xueci thought his illness was acting up again, but the butler stepped forward and called out respectfully, “Third Miss.”

It was said that He Wuling and Xu Yuzhu had four children together. The eldest and second sons had died many years ago, and their names had become taboos within the family, never to be mentioned again.

The only daughter was the third child, named He Pinglan. After her husband and child passed away in quick succession a few years ago, she developed a mental illness. It was a tragic affair. Although she still lived in the He family’s ancestral home, she had severed ties with her parents and had been removed from the family tree.

The servants only continued calling her Third Miss out of habit.

He Xunye was actually the youngest child, but with those before him dead or mad, he was the only one left, making him the Eldest Young Master of the He family. But now, he was dead too.

In short, the He family was currently in a state where they really needed to hire a master—except He Wuling himself was supposed to be the master.

Tan Xueci: “…”

Tan Xueci was caught completely off guard. He Pinglan’s appearance chilled his breath. He had known He Sui since childhood, so he had heard some rumors about the He family, but he hadn’t expected them to be true.

He hadn’t seen He Pinglan during the burial today. In all his time at the He family, he hadn’t heard the butler mention other children, and there were no memorial tablets for He Xunye’s two brothers in the ancestral hall.

He had thought they were just rumors.

Tan Xueci was slumped on the ground. Just as he was about to get up, He Pinglan walked up to him like a phantom. She wore a very oversized white nightgown that hung damply and coldly.

He Pinglan leaned down. Her cold, pitch-black hair fell over Tan Xueci’s face. Her hair was too thick, making Tan Xueci feel like he was being tightly wrapped in dark seaweed. The rims of his eyes turned red, and his breathing became shallow and rapid.

Her pupils were also very dark, radiating a heavy aura of death. Her lips parted slightly, carrying a heavy sense of omen as she said: “You aren’t dead yet?”

Tan Xueci: “…” Where are your manners?

I can’t take this. A whole family of male ghosts, female ghosts, and feudal old ghosts. I really want to throw a handful of glutinous rice.

Tan Xueci had already been shrinking back; he shrunk a bit more and gave a timid “Mm.”

He Pinglan stood up. She ignored Tan Xueci and turned to walk back toward her room.

The He family children used to live together in this building, but now only He Pinglan remained, along with the newly arrived little wife, Tan Xueci.

Tan Xueci saw that her room was at the end of the second-floor hallway. When he went out earlier, the person watching him from the window must have been He Pinglan. What was she doing on the third floor then? She couldn’t have been looking for him, could she?

The more Tan Xueci thought about it, the more scared he got. He scrambled up and headed for his room, rubbing his eyes and sniffing as he went.

“Young Master Xiao Ci,” the butler said, already acting like a sycophant as he consoled him, “don’t be afraid. Third Miss has mental health issues; she is a psychiatric patient. But she doesn’t hurt people and doesn’t come out often. If you run into her again, just wait for her to move away. You don’t need to talk to her.”

Tan Xueci: “…”

Tan Xueci caught the keyword and his little face fell, looking at him with red, watery eyes.

The butler: “…”

Almost forgot. This one is also a psychiatric patient.

The butler slapped his forehead.

Could it be that I’m actually a psychiatric patient too?

After seeing Tan Xueci back, the butler left in a daze. Tan Xueci didn’t know what kind of “illness” the man was having. With no one around, he had wanted to secretly roll his eyes, but the bedroom door was suddenly opened, turning his small face pale in an instant.

He Xunye stood at the entrance of the pitch-black bedroom. The evil spirit’s pale, gloomy face was sunken into the blurry rainy night, carrying a chilling ghostly aura. He asked with a smile, “Baby, why aren’t you coming in?”

“Hubby,” Tan Xueci’s heart still hadn’t settled from the fright. He hugged He Xunye’s arm and asked, “When did you come up?”

You dead ghost, jump-scaring me again.

He Xunye felt his arm being hugged against his wife’s chest, and held very tightly. The corners of his red lips lifted as he said, “When you were talking to Third Sister.”

Tan Xueci was a bit worried. The butler and the others had brought shovels when they came looking for him, so they must have known he went up the mountain. He had been seen by He Pinglan when he went out; he wondered if she had told them.

“It’s fine,” He Xunye walked to the desk and pulled him onto his lap. “Ignore her.”

Tan Xueci was sitting on the man’s cold thighs, frowning and biting his nails. Seeing He Xunye start to unbutton his shirt, he quickly stopped him with a red face: “Hubby, what… what are you doing?”

“Has Baby forgotten?” He Xunye acted like a good husband who always kept his word. Although it seemed a bit difficult, he still wanted to fulfill his wife’s wish. “I promised Baby just now that I’d let you see my body when we got back.”

Let’s not.

Tan Xueci felt he didn’t actually want to see it that much. Mainly because it surely wouldn’t be “free.” His gaze flickered around and suddenly spotted his notebook on the desk. Grabbing it like a life-saving straw, he said timidly, “H-Hubby, I haven’t done my writing for the night yet.”

Brother Lu had bought him a practice book and told him to write one page every day, saying he would check his homework every few days.

He Xunye didn’t force him. After all, as a considerate husband, he should support his wife’s studies. So he held him steady, handed him a pen, and said, “Fine. Do your writing first then.”

The tips of Tan Xueci’s ears peeking through his dark hair turned from white to red. He swallowed. Writing while… while sitting on his lap.

But He Xunye had no intention of letting him down.

What else could he do?

Write.

Tan Xueci hung his head and started writing. After writing a crooked line, he turned his head and said pleadingly, “H-Hubby, can I go get a blanket?”

He Xunye’s legs were cold; sitting on them for a long time made his bottom freeze.

He Xunye: “…”

He Xunye’s eyes darkened slightly. He went to get him a blanket. Tan Xueci happily wrapped himself up and sat back in He Xunye’s lap, letting his husband hold him while accompanying him in his writing.

He wrote another half-character before his mind started to wander. On the nearby shelf were He Xunye’s books. He casually pulled one down. He couldn’t understand it, but a group photo was tucked inside.

It was a photo of many professors. The background looked very familiar—it was at Jing University. Tan Yanning was a student there, and there were many photos of him at home, so Tan Xueci had seen the place before.

Tan Xueci was stunned for a moment, then turned to ask: “Hubby, were you a teacher at Jing University? Did you ever teach A-Yan?”

“Him?” The evil spirit buried his face in his wife’s fair, tender neck. “He didn’t have the qualifications to attend my classes.”

He was a doctoral supervisor at Jing University; Tan Yanning was only a postgraduate student.

Tan Xueci held that photo helplessly. Who would have thought that his husband—who played him into the hospital and loved watching him wear a maid outfit—was actually a teacher.

He couldn’t sleep no matter what. He spent half the night looking closely, but he couldn’t find a single trace of “professional ethics” on He Xunye’s face.

He covered up his own “chicken scratch” handwriting, suddenly feeling too embarrassed to let He Xunye see. Even A-Yan couldn’t attend his husband’s classes, let alone him. He didn’t even have a primary school diploma; it was so embarrassing.

“Why stopped writing?” He Xunye held his waist. Seeing his beet-red ears, he let out a low laugh and leaned over to teach him how to write. His voice was coaxing: “It wasn’t appropriate for me to teach him, but it’s just right for me to teach Xiao Xue.”

He held Tan Xueci’s hand and wrote Little Snow Baby on the paper, then drew something next to it. But Tan Xueci’s brain was already muddled; he couldn’t think at all.

You dead ghost, always seducing me.

He Xunye’s cold, large hands had very long fingers; he could practically pinch his waist with one hand. Even through the blanket, Tan Xueci could feel that the muscles on the man’s abdomen were firm. His voice was pressed very low, his lips brushing against his ear as he spoke, as if rubbing into his ear.

Tan Xueci had only been in one relationship, and even then, He Sui hadn’t paid much attention to him. He had never been held in someone’s arms and proactively seduced like this. Water filled his translucent eyes, and his red lips parted. His breath was hot, and some part of his body felt exceptionally uncomfortable; his palms were covered in sweat.

With a flushed face, he didn’t even know when He Xunye had left. When he came to his senses, he suddenly saw that what He Xunye had drawn on the paper was a little snowman. His face instantly fell, feeling that He Xunye, like his mean fans, was making fun of him.

However, as he looked up and saw his own shadow nearby, he froze. He was wrapped in the blanket, his arms and legs tucked inside, curled into a ball with only his head sticking out. That shadow really did look like a little snowman.

The tips of Tan Xueci’s ears turned red bit by bit.

The butler left Tan Xueci’s side and went to see He Wuling.

He Wuling had his hands behind his back. The cold green ring on his hand looked dark and oppressive. He said with a grim face, “He’s back again?”

“He’s back,” the butler sighed.

He Wuling’s expression was cold and dark. He knew that eighty-one talismans wouldn’t necessarily be enough to seal He Xunye. He had sent someone to watch Tan Xueci tonight, fearing he would cause trouble again, but Tan Xueci had still managed to slip out. He must have been let out by He Xunye.

He Xunye probably didn’t know what Tan Xueci wanted to do at first, but he was very interested in his little wife and was quite happy to let him out to play. He hadn’t expected Tan Xueci would end up going to the mountain.

When Tan Xueci returned, He Wuling had been watching him from upstairs. He couldn’t see He Xunye, but he could feel the dense ghostly aura around Tan Xueci. In fact, he didn’t even need to “feel” it, because Tan Xueci was hugging that thing and sticking to it, which was a complete eyesore.

They were even dating.

He Wuling looked away in frustration, his forehead throbbing. He set up the altar to summon the evil spirit.

He and the butler waited for several minutes, but not even a ghostly shadow appeared. He Wuling said coldly, “You beast! What unfulfilled wish do you have? Say it, and I will do it for you. After it’s done, I will perform the rites for you so you can be reincarnated sooner. Why suffer and cause trouble in the world of the living!”

Dark red bloodstains gradually seeped from the floor, forming a few characters, but it was impossible to see what was being written.

He Wuling: “…”

“Get the hell out here!” He Wuling, having reached his limit, barked, “Speak! Why play dumb?!”

He had originally thought He Xunye didn’t have enough power and thus couldn’t speak, only being able to play tricks to scare the butler. But even so many talismans couldn’t suppress him; the opponent’s cultivation was extremely deep. How could it be impossible for him to speak? This unfilial son was deliberately refusing to speak to them.

“Speak about what?” A cold voice rang out behind him. The tone was lazy, carrying an annoying, dissolute edge that made one want to slap a talisman onto him. “Thank you for the arranged marriage?”

“You…” He Wuling’s old face was as dark as water, trembling with rage. He pointed at him, unable to speak. “You…”

“Thank you,” the evil spirit’s crimson, thin lips curled up, and he said politely, “Xiao Xue is very cute. I like him very much.”