Chapter 37: He Should Love Me

The leading priest was Yu Qingxu, the head of Qingya Temple. He formed a hand seal, his lips moving as he chanted rapidly.

Under the deep night sky, countless talismans ignited into a fierce blaze, reflecting in the evil ghost’s phoenix eyes, which had turned entirely blood-red. His countenance was more sinister than usual, radiating a dense, ghostly aura.

“…It’s actually you.” Yu Qingxu paused, his brow furrowing as his expression became much more complex.

Qingya Temple had long-standing ties with the He family. He Xunye was the most talented Feng Shui master of the current generation—no, he was likely the greatest the He family had seen in a century. There had been none like him.

Yu Qingxu had seen He Xunye when he was born and had even sent congratulatory gifts. He Xunye’s Bazi (birth details) were pure Yang, and his skeletal weight was seven liang and one qian—an exceptionally noble and heavy destiny. He did not possess the countenance of someone destined for an early death.

Later, something unknown happened. He Xunye’s constitution grew weaker year by year; the Yin and Yang energies within his body became muddled, and even his innate destiny was ruined, leaving him essentially a demi-ghost.

He Wuling had searched everywhere for a cure and had even visited Qingya Temple, but He Xunye couldn’t even save himself. What could they have done?

Yu Qingxu had once calculated that He Xunye should have lived until thirty. He hadn’t expected him to die so suddenly.

“Xunye,” Yu Qingxu said gravely, “since it is you, you should understand better than anyone that the paths of the living and the dead must not cross. That child was born with a weak constitution; he cannot endure the haunting of an evil ghost like you. You will kill him. I am performing these rites for your transcendence today. Leave early and do not create any more karmic slaughter!”

With that, he raised his hand to form a seal and began the incantation: “Sentient beings tie many grudges; deep grudges are hard to untie. One life creates a grudge; ten lives find no rest. I now transmit the marvelous Dharma to dissolve all karmic debts! Er—”

He had barely finished the first recitation when a black mist rose behind the evil ghost, blotting out the sky and sun, and completely veiling tonight’s moonlight.

Yu Qingxu was leading a formation of forty-nine disciples. Standing at the very front, he was struck by the sudden eruption of the ghost’s baleful aura and spat out a mouthful of fresh blood on the spot.

The disciples nearby cried out in panic, “Master?!”

Yu Qingxu raised a hand to indicate he was fine.

The evil ghost’s pupils were pitch-black and cold. He let out a faint, shallow laugh and said, “So, the Priest believes that a husband and wife having a good relationship constitutes ‘haunting’?”

“He cannot leave me,” the ghost murmured. “And I cannot leave him. He is my wife.”

He emphasized those last words heavily.

“Stop this nonsense!” Yu Qingxu refused his disciples’ support and pointed his Seven-Star Sword at the ghost. His face darkened. “What ‘feelings’ can a spirit have? What ‘unable to leave’? Have you actually fallen in love with him?”

The evil ghost avoided the question. The crimson red spread further through his dark eyes as he said, “He should love me.”

Yu Qingxu sneered. “Stop your wishful thinking. I have already given him three protective talismans. Even if you escape from here, you won’t be able to find where he is.”

“So it was you,” the evil ghost’s gaze grew increasingly gloomy. He was not truly a gentle husband; he was merely an evil ghost with sky-high resentment and deep-seated hatred. Now, the resentment and obsession in his eyes surged, and he actually laughed. “You’ve taught him bad things.”

No wonder he had just tried to capture Tan Xueci’s aura but found nothing. This feeling of irritation made his resentment grow thicker, and the black mist spreading behind him became dark and viscous.

Yu Qingxu saw that this ghost was entirely devoid of humanity; talking to it was a waste of breath. He commanded his disciples, “Rise, the formation!”

Inside the vast temple, countless red strings rose up like a sea of blood, each one having been blessed with exorcism incantations. Yellow talismans rustled. Though there was no rain in the middle of the night, dozens of pale lightning bolts pierced the night sky as if ready to strike down all demons.

The evil ghost’s pale face was somber and desolate. For the first time, he found these Taoists troublesome. They didn’t seem to understand his words—there was simply nothing to say to these people who didn’t have wives.

Yu Qingxu stood firm, his hands forming a talisman seal as he continuously chanted difficult, archaic spells.

It wasn’t that he was heartless toward He Xunye, but this evil ghost already had over a dozen lives on its hands—and not just those killed for Tan Xueci. If it weren’t struck down now, it would soon be uncontrollable. He intended to summon heavenly thunder to purge the evil.

But before the thunder could strike, a chilly wind whipped through the temple. From far and near came the sound of countless ghosts wailing and howling. The young Taoist priests nearby shivered, so frozen they could hardly hold their long swords.

“You all are far too annoying.” The baleful aura in the evil ghost’s blood-red eyes intensified. He raised a hand, his pale fingertips drawing a talisman in the air—upon closer inspection, the strokes were drawn in the exact reverse of a normal talisman.

Yu Qingxu’s eyes flew wide.

The ghost was drawing a “God-Summoning Incantation,” usually meant to summon protective deities. But since he was a ghost drawing it in reverse, it didn’t summon gods—it summoned evil spirits from the ten directions and tens of thousands of Yin souls.

Countless wailing ghosts were drawn to the site, appearing like massive clouds of dark gray fog covering the entire temple. Resentment soared toward the sky.

The evil ghost strolled leisurely, letting the vengeful spirits clear a path for him, wave after wave of them throwing themselves against the red strings of the formation and disintegrating into ash.

Yu Qingxu was shaken to his core. The ghost walked right up to him and smiled. “Priest Yu, I’m feeling a bit homesick. Which talisman did you say could take me home?”

He reached out toward the talismans behind Yu Qingxu. If he could find the “Soul-Recall” talisman that Tan Xueci had used to summon him, he would be able to find Tan Xueci again.

As a temple head, Yu Qingxu possessed some cultivation. Even if the film crew were recording a show, the ghost wouldn’t be able to find Tan Xueci’s specific location without help.

Cold sweat poured down Yu Qingxu’s face, but he stood his ground, gritting his teeth. The evil ghost didn’t stand on ceremony; he reached out and took a talisman. On the paper was written: Soul, return hither.

He felt nothing about returning to the He household, but he looked forward to returning to Tan Xueci’s side. He didn’t need sleep, but right now, he really wanted to lie down next to his wife and have a rest.

These people were truly wicked, but Xiao Xue would give him a home. They would stay together forever. If Tan Xueci wasn’t willing, he would always find a way to make him willing.

“You…” Yu Qingxu was powerless. He could only watch as the ghost took the talisman. He pointed a trembling finger at the ghost. “Absurd! How can a human and a ghost be together? Who would ever love an evil ghost?!”

The evil ghost suddenly remembered something. His blood-red eyes turned back as he said with a smile, “What did he give you to use to catch me?”

Yu Qingxu’s face was dark, and he didn’t answer. But the object was sitting right in the center of the formation behind him; it was too late to hide it.

The evil ghost looked up and was momentarily stunned.

Tan Xueci met up with Lu Qi and the others around 8:00 AM.

Mountain Wanderer was a popular, long-running variety show that released four episodes a year, each filmed in a different village. This was the final episode of the year, filmed in Yanxia Village.

Yanxia Village wasn’t particularly far from the temple—about a two-hour drive into the mountains. The mountain roads were difficult; once they arrived, they had to switch to a tricycle, then a local ox-cart, and finally hike a stretch on foot to reach the village.

Yanxia Village was named for being downstream on the Yan River. There was another village upstream called Yanshang Village.

Tan Xueci and the group didn’t go straight to Yanxia Village. The production crew wanted to film some contrast between city and village life, so they shot a few segments first and didn’t drive out until after lunch.

By the time they reached the foot of the mountain, the sky was already darkening. It had rained a few days prior, so the mountain paths were very slippery.

Tan Xueci accidentally tripped. When he climbed back up, his snowy white face was smudged with mud and his pants were dirty. He was reminded of when he climbed the back hill of the He family estate for He Xunye’s funeral—back then, a pair of hands had been leading him forward.

Though he couldn’t see them, he could feel it was He Xunye. Later, when he went back, He Xunye had even carried him home on his back. It felt like a dream; to think someone would actually want to carry him.

Tan Xueci lowered his long eyelashes and wiped his face. He had handed the items over to the Taoist priest, who said they would catch the ghost tonight. The priest had given him several talismans and recited some spells over him.

Tan Xueci was a bit confused—what purpose did it all serve? He felt no different than usual. He had thought he was simply in a daze, perhaps mentally unstable, and that’s why he was “unconscious” in a dream.

He had imagined a husband who treated him well, and he had imagined himself becoming unexpectedly famous and loved by everyone. But this false feeling was painful. Because he knew it was fake, the happier he felt in the dream, the sadder he became. If he suddenly woke up one day, he might truly go mad.

He would rather face reality. Even if he opened his eyes and discovered that being an actor was also a dream—that he had never actually left that attic—it wouldn’t matter.

He wanted to suffer in the real world; that was better than being happy in a fake dream.

Tan Xueci’s hair was getting a bit long, hanging down and obscuring his eyes. His pale, thin face looked somewhat gloomy.

Jin Chen was tall with long legs, over 1.8 meters. Lu Qi was about the same height as Tan Xueci but in better physical shape. The two of them walked ahead, then turned back to wait for Tan Xueci.

Jin Chen pointed at Tan Xueci’s gloomy face and signaled to Lu Qi.

He’s gone “evil” again.

Tan Xueci felt someone pointing at him and glanced up with a frown. Jin Chen immediately turned away sheepishly.

Tan Xueci had also removed the talisman bag He Wuling had given him. Although Priest Yu didn’t say whether it was a ghost-summoning talisman or something else, his explanation matched He Xunye’s: the talisman had already lost its power, so it didn’t matter what it was, and there was no need to wear it anymore.

They were about to reach the steepest part of the mountain path before entering the village. A young man ahead waved at them. He was somewhat tanned, looking to be in his early twenties. He called out loudly, “Is that Teacher Tan and Teacher Jin?”

Lu Qi waved back.

The man, holding a high-powered flashlight, ran over quickly. His dark skin made his teeth look very white. His smile was dazzling as he said, “I’m Bai Shuizhang, the deputy secretary of Yanxia Village. The mountain paths are tricky; the Village Head sent me to lead you up.”

As they walked toward the village with Bai Shuizhang, they learned he wasn’t a local. He was a “student village official” who had come to work in Yanxia Village after graduating three years ago.

Their acceptance of this variety show had been very rushed. Since Tan Xueci had just become famous, she had many offers for endorsements and the like. Because Mountain Wanderer was a reputable show, Lu Qi hadn’t had time to look closely at what they were actually supposed to do.

He only heard it was about making some kind of “Intangible Cultural Heritage” cloth dolls.

It started raining in the mountains again. The night was somber. They put on rain boots and ponchos and continued through the cold mountain rain.

“Actually, Yanxia Village used to specialize in paper effigies (zhizha),” Bai Shuizhang told them with a smile. “Man, when I first got here, I felt like there were more paper effigies than people. The Village Head put me in a brick house, and when I woke up in the middle of the night and saw several pairs of paper boys and girls in the yard opposite, I nearly jumped out of my skin.”

Tan Xueci was fine, but Lu Qi and Jin Chen didn’t look well. Having just left that horror movie set, they couldn’t stand hearing about such things. The two of them, who had been walking in front of Tan Xueci, now silently moved behind him, shrinking their shoulders and letting Tan Xueci’s slender frame shield them from the wind and rain.

Tan Xueci: “…”

Are you guys okay?

Bai Shuizhang didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Realizing he had frightened the guests, he quickly said, “No need to fear. There are fewer and fewer people making paper effigies now. They make old-fashioned ones—the process is complex and there are many rules, like not being allowed to paint the eyes and so on.”

Only when they heard that there were fewer now did Lu Qi and the others sheepishly step back out from behind Tan Xueci.

“There are so many paper effigies on the market now!” Bai Shuizhang waved his hand. “Machine-made ones are quite good too, with lots of fancy styles. They look nice and are cheaper than handmade ones. Fewer and fewer people buy the handmade ones, so the village started making ‘votive dolls’ (huanyuan dolls) and ‘leg-holding dolls’ instead. They bring them to me, and I put them online to help them sell.”

Many young people from this village had gone elsewhere for work. The elderly and the women who stayed to care for the old and young usually did handicrafts in addition to their farm work.

“Votive dolls” were folk dolls used for requesting children. Families who couldn’t conceive would go to the goddess at Mount Miaofeng to pray for a child and bring a doll home. If they actually had a child, they had to return another doll to the goddess—they could make it themselves or buy a cloth doll.

“Leg-holding dolls” were for a child’s safety. They were usually cloth dolls holding one of their own feet with one hand. They were palm-sized, with white faces, black willow-leaf eyes, and sometimes two pigtails tied with red string.

“Once we reach the village,” Bai Shuizhang told them, “a master will likely teach you how to make the dolls tomorrow.”

Hearing about “fancy styles” of paper effigies, Tan Xueci suddenly remembered that maid-outfit paper effigy, and his face immediately slumped.

It was true; that old male ghost definitely wanted a maid outfit more than some paper boy or girl guarding a door.

As Tan Xueci grumbled internally about He Xunye, a cold strand of rain blew onto his face. He felt a chill on the back of his neck and instantly grew alert, even glancing behind him.

But this time, no one told him he was truly “wicked,” and no icy aura descended over his back or took his hand.

For the first time, he did not see He Xunye at night.