Chapter 33: Oedipus

Tan Xueci’s cheeks, already naturally pale, turned several shades whiter than usual. He stared at He Xunye and the ghost infant, his lips trembling but unable to form words, leaving him in a state of continuous, helpless confusion.

The evil spirit’s sticky gaze licked across his face. Seeing that Tan Xueci didn’t seem particularly happy, he felt a bit more disdain for the ghost infant in his hand. He kept his eyes on Tan Xueci and spoke gently: “Baby, you don’t like this one? Then we’ll change it for another.”

As he spoke, he began to look down to pick through the remaining ghost infants on the floor.

Tan Xueci bit his lip until he could almost taste blood. Large patches of dark-red blood stained He Xunye’s suit jacket. While the clothes didn’t look torn, his abdomen was bleeding continuously; the thick, black-red blood flowed onto the ground, pooling beneath He Xunye.

It truly looked as if he were hemorrhaging from giving birth.

He Xunye’s complexion had indeed turned much paler, deathly still like a specter, and even his pupils seemed to have darkened. This ghost infant looked scrawny, but it was a child nonetheless; the wound from pulling it out must have been enormous.

Tan Xueci stopped worrying about the ghost infant. He hurriedly reached out to touch He Xunye’s hand, only to find it covered in cold, black blood.

He Xunye, however, seemed completely unbothered. A smile still curved the evil spirit’s crimson lips. He reached out to embrace his wife, rubbing his chin against the top of the other’s head. “It’s okay,” he said.

“Are you crazy?” Tan Xueci snapped, exposing a rare bit of temper. His fingers shook as he fumbled to unbutton He Xunye’s suit jacket and shirt. “How can it be okay?!”

The evil spirit raised its hands, letting its wife undress it. It didn’t seem to mind being touched by its wife’s hands at all; it was always this gentle and tolerant toward him.

Tan Xueci’s mind wasn’t filled with anything untoward; he was simply terrified that upon opening the shirt, he would see a gaping hole in the other’s abdomen. He would truly die of fright. Fortunately, there wasn’t one.

But He Xunye was indeed injured. There was a wound spanning almost his entire abdomen; the man’s cold, white, firm abdominal muscles had been torn, and blood was gurgling out. Tan Xueci didn’t dare touch it. Aside from the corpses on the film set, he had never seen such a horrific wound in person.

The evil spirit looked down. Seeing his wife staring at his abs, his dark phoenix eyes curved. He reached out to stroke his wife’s soft cheek. “Humans have incisions when they give birth. If Baby likes it, I can keep it forever.”

Tan Xueci felt dizzy. For the first time, he felt that communication with He Xunye was completely impossible. Who on earth would like something like that?! He bit his lip, his eyes turning red as he held back tears. Seeing He Xunye’s face grow increasingly pale and ghostly from blood loss, he quickly reached out to cover the wound on the other’s abdomen.

The evil spirit let out a muffled groan. His voice was low and slightly hoarse, scraping against Tan Xueci’s ears like a little hook. It gave Tan Xueci a strange feeling—He Xunye didn’t sound like he was in pain from being covered; he sounded like he was enjoying the touch.

Crazy. Absolutely crazy.

No emotion flickered across the evil spirit’s deep, handsome face, but his Adam’s apple bobbed slightly. His wife’s soft hands were frantically pressing and rubbing all over his abs. The wound was painful, of course—ghosts can be hurt—but no pain showed in his eyes, only dark, crimson desire.

However, he finally realized that Tan Xueci didn’t like seeing him bleed.

“It’s fine,” He Xunye said hoarsely, comforting his wife. “Baby, don’t be afraid.”

With that, he raised his hand and drew a complex rune over his abdomen. The blood stopped instantly, and the wound began to close bit by bit. Tan Xueci’s pale face remained tense, the rims of his eyes and nose turning red as he stared at He Xunye in silence.

Seeing that he didn’t like the ghost infant, He Xunye prepared to throw it away, but Tan Xueci suddenly froze. He noticed the ghost infant’s face wasn’t as ashen as before. Although its mouth was still full of tiny, pitch-black fangs, its skin tone had shifted, and the corpse spots had faded significantly.

It had absorbed He Xunye’s blood, gradually becoming more like it was when it was alive; blood had become its nourishment, much like amniotic fluid. Tan Xueci suddenly couldn’t bear to throw it away. Wouldn’t that be wasting his husband’s blood? He hurriedly spoke up, “Wait!”

“Hmm?” He Xunye stopped his hand. “What is it, Baby?”

Tan Xueci awkwardly held the ghost infant. He Xunye had placed a talisman over its mouth, so it couldn’t bite anyone; it could only open its dark, beady ghost eyes and lie in Tan Xueci’s arms, staring at He Xunye with venomous resentment—fuming but silent.

He Xunye stared back at it, his expression as dark as still water.

Tan Xueci didn’t have time to worry about the two of them; he was dazed. What was happening? What should they do now?

He saw many jars filled with formalin in the factory. Formalin could prevent corpses from rotting; these jars must have held bodies before. As he moved closer, he saw name tags pasted on the bottom of the jars—some were relatively new, while others were faded and yellowed. The ghost infant’s tag had already turned yellow; it must have been several years old.

But there were tags even older than this one, indicating it wasn’t the first to be killed. There were many others before it.

Tan Xueci thought of the female ghost at the school. Did she want him to find this place? He didn’t quite understand, but with He Xunye there, although he could feel prying eyes, no spirits dared to approach. Thus, he checked every single jar.

He had a great memory; almost everything since his birth was as clear as yesterday. The reason he didn’t do well in school was simply that he hadn’t tried. He was a “bad kid” who didn’t like studying. When Brother Lu gave him lessons, he was always daydreaming.

But because he looked so obedient, even when his mind was wandering, he appeared to be doing everything seriously. So, Lu Qi never noticed and just thought he was a bit slow.

“Hubby,” Tan Xueci walked in a circle and finished looking around, but they hadn’t left yet. He asked He Xunye blankly, “Why are we still here? What is this place really about?”

“It’s exactly what you see,” the evil spirit poked his cheek, his gaze lingering. “They turned people into meat lingzhi.”

Actually, he had seen this over a decade ago. A girl in her early twenties had gone missing back then. Her family was very poor; those who kidnapped her probably didn’t expect her parents to keep investigating, but they begged everyone for help and eventually found He Wuling by chance.

He Wuling had led a team to eliminate a group of them, not only liberating the wronged souls but also catching some of the perpetrators. They were handed over to the police for intentional homicide, which led to a subtle cooperation with the authorities.

Back then, they discovered that several high-level entertainment executives and stars had eaten this kind of meat lingzhi. He hadn’t expected someone to start selling it privately again years later—the greed of the human heart truly never stops. The people at the top called it meat lingzhi, but they knew full well it was human flesh. Only stars like Zhai Fang, who weren’t quite top-tier, treated it as medicine; even if they felt it was strange, they didn’t think too deeply.

“But…” Tan Xueci pursed his lips, looking at He Xunye in confusion. “After Zhai Fang ate it, his face really recovered. Does this stuff actually work?”

“In essence, it’s no different from raising a ghost,” He Xunye said. “It’s not that the meat lingzhi works; it’s just that the ghost fulfilled his wish. But this comes with a price.”

Zhai Fang got the face he wanted, but in the end, he would be eaten by the ghost to extend its ghostly lifespan. That was why the little girl ghost eventually changed back to her beautiful self in the white dress. If she didn’t eat Zhai Fang soon, her ghostly lifespan would run out, and she would quickly dissipate.

The evil spirit reached out to hug Tan Xueci. He loved hugging his little wife from behind and resting his chin on his shoulder. This way, when he spoke to Tan Xueci, he could see his wife’s cold, white ear tips twitching like a little lamb’s.

So, he didn’t plan to kill Zhai Fang himself. He didn’t have to do anything; Zhai Fang wouldn’t live much longer anyway. Moreover, having eaten dead human flesh, the Yin energy on those people was overwhelming. They were already half-human, half-ghost, and didn’t fully count as living beings anymore.

Tan Xueci turned his head, leaning back into He Xunye’s embrace. His face was pale and troubled as he murmured, “If I hadn’t joined this production in the first place, would I have avoided all of this?”

“Baby, don’t you understand yet?” The evil spirit smiled gently. “They believe that the younger and fresher the meat, the more effective it is. That’s why they only target young people and children.

“Furthermore, the heavier the resentment in a spirit, the stronger its power and the more wishes it can fulfill. A female corpse carrying immense resentment is the finest medicine to them. Such medicine is rare, so they seek out other women, children, and even men with heavy Yin energy, torturing them to death to consume their flesh.”

As for why they weren’t directly retaliated against by the ghosts but could instead make the ghosts work for them, someone from the metaphysical world likely interfered and did something in secret.

But what did that have to do with him? He was a ghost, not a god or a Buddha. Why should he bother saving all living beings?

The evil spirit hooked Tan Xueci’s cold, thin chin affectionately, praising him: “You don’t even need to harbor resentment; the Yin energy on your body is already dense enough. You would have ended up in a film crew regardless—if not this one, then another.”

Tan Xueci swallowed hard, cold sweat trickling down his spine.

“Baby,” the evil spirit leaned down to kiss his lips, chilled by fear. His ghostly, pitch-black eyes peered into Tan Xueci’s. Smiling, he said, “You were marked long ago. You can’t run away.”

Tan Xueci had already been frightened, but He Xunye’s words made his scalp tingle, as if he were being watched not just by these people, but by other “dirty things” as well.

“Hubby,” Tan Xueci, still holding the gagged ghost infant, clutched He Xunye’s sleeve. His beautiful face was pale with dread. “What should we do now?”

“You see things others can’t,” He Xunye said. “She has already pointed you in the right direction. Fulfill her wish, and you can leave—not just this place.”

He could forcibly take Tan Xueci away, but… he felt that Tan Xueci might actually want to help. His wife was young and playful; it didn’t matter if he accompanied him to have some fun, they could treat it as a date. It wasn’t without its gains, after all—they had even gotten a child out of it.

“Hubby,” Tan Xueci murmured, biting his lip, and asked in a small voice, “Did you know all of this? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Stupid ghost, his social circle in the spirit world seems quite extensive.

But He Wuling was a master, and He Xunye seemed to know talismans and perhaps more. He didn’t know if a female ghost told him or if he figured it out himself.

“Because the outcome is good.” The evil spirit was full of patience for his wife. He loved the way Tan Xueci leaned softly against him while talking, those bright red, plump lips opening and closing. From his angle looking down, he could even see a hint of his red tongue.

Tan Xueci grew more confused and asked blankly, “What?”

“Xiao Mie,” the evil spirit’s black eyes curved. “Your fate was destined from the very beginning. Someone—perhaps not even human—wants you to experience all of this. Have you ever heard of the Oedipus effect? Someone prophesied that Oedipus would kill his father, so his father abandoned him. Consequently, he ended up fulfilling that very destiny. The more you flee, the more you end up with what you want least. So, there was no need to tell you. Staying here isn’t a bad thing.”

Tan Xueci was stunned. At this moment, he suddenly felt a resonance with the principal of Jiahe; he truly couldn’t understand a word these masters said.

But he didn’t dwell on it. He still didn’t know who had brought him to the school tonight—the female ghost from the crew, the one from the school, or someone else? He felt that the female ghost from the school had led him to this factory, but she wasn’t the one who put him in the school restroom to begin with.

Tan Xueci’s mind was a mass of doubts. He held the ghost infant and inspected the entire factory. Out of fear, he stayed hidden in He Xunye’s arms, letting the man hold him as they walked. The young man’s eyes looked past the mist-shrouded school and abandoned factory toward a more distant place.

“Let’s go back first.”

Just as Tan Xueci finished his inspection, he felt a pair of large, cold hands give his shoulder a push. The movement was so light and the voice so gentle that he didn’t even have time to resist before he felt himself falling from a great height.

Tan Xueci’s body jerked, and he finally woke from the heavy dream. He opened his eyes blankly and found that the rest of the crew was also exhausted, either napping or talking in low voices.

“Xiao Ci,” Meng Zhi walked over and waved a hand in front of his eyes. The girl’s pretty face wore a smile. “You’re awake? You fell asleep just as the late-night snacks arrived. I put your portion in the microwave; you can heat it up if you’re hungry.”

So it was a dream.

Tan Xueci felt it was strange but also felt a weird sense of relief. Luckily it was a dream—how could He Xunye suddenly give birth to a child? It was too insane. People who knew him would think he was sick; those who didn’t would think He Xunye was the one with the mental illness.

Tan Xueci thanked Meng Zhi. He wasn’t hungry now, but having often gone hungry at home, he couldn’t bear to waste food, so he heated it up and ate.

By the time he finished, the assistant director’s work was also done. Seeing the sky beginning to brighten, the assistant director stood up and stretched tiredly. “Good work, everyone. Go back and pack your things; we’re changing hotels. Rest for a bit after we move, we have scenes to shoot tonight.”

The crowd dispersed to return to their rooms. Tan Xueci took the elevator toward his own room, remembering that he had told He Xunye to wait for him there earlier. He didn’t know if He Xunye was still there.

Wait, wait.

He had been dreaming tonight. When exactly did the dream start? He should be awake now, so his husband shouldn’t be there. Tan Xueci’s face drooped slightly. Just as he took out his key card to open the door, it opened from the inside.

He Xunye was wearing rare domestic attire—a thin gray sweater. The man’s handsome face wore a gentle smile as he leaned down to kiss Tan Xueci’s lips. “Baby, you’re back?”

He looked like a virtuous, considerate husband waiting for his wife to return home after a hard day’s work—if only he weren’t holding a ghost infant with pitch-black eyes and a sickly green face in his arms.