Chapter 40: Who is the Other Man?

In the dead of night, while a torrential downpour lashed the village, a man suddenly appeared outside the door. Even in this muddy mountain village, he remained impeccably dressed, meticulous from the strands of his hair to the tips of his shoes.

The man’s phoenix eyes were pitch-black and deep, contrasting with a skin tone so pale it bordered on blue-grey. Though he was exceptionally handsome, his presence was unsettling—it carried an indescribable, eerie quality.

It was like living in a remote ravine and having a beautiful woman knock on your door at midnight; in such a case, she’d likely be a ghost.

Everyone present was frozen. Cold white flashes of lightning occasionally illuminated the room, highlighting the man’s deep brow bone and leaving half of his pale face submerged in darkness. Even the bullet comments came to a standstill; no one dared to speak.

The man looked to be around twenty-seven or twenty-eight, tall and imposing—at least $190\text{ cm}$. His well-tailored black suit perfectly outlined his broad shoulders and long legs; even through the jacket, one could see the fluid, powerful lines of his physique.

The director stood dazed for a long time, with only one thought left in his head: Who ordered the male model?

But the man’s brow was pressed low, radiating the pressurized aura of someone long accustomed to a high-ranking position. Though there was a faint smile on his lips, he commanded a respect that forbade offense. Anyone could see that he was currently angry.

The bullet comments were silent for a good while until someone finally ventured a remark.

[? Bro, who are you?]

[I think… maybe… it seems… this is Tan Xueci’s husband, the one you guys were just scolding. holds head and hides.jpg]

[When did you enter the palace? I’ve never seen you before. Pudge the cat resting chin on paws.jpg]

[My god, you actually dare to thirst for him? Go search him up; his name is He Xunye, a professor of Folklore at Jing University. He’s very famous.]

[??? You scared me to death. I was scrolling through the stream and suddenly saw the professor who used to teach me. I feel like I’ve been caught slacking off. No joke, my back is covered in cold sweat right now. But bro, why did you appear so suddenly like a ghost?]

Tan Xueci’s mind had gone completely blank. He saw that the moment the door opened and He Xunye stepped in, gusts of ghostly, swirling black mist and water spread beneath the man’s feet.

Then, he seemed to hear a faint crunching sound of chewing. When he turned his head again, the “extra” guest was gone, as if swallowed whole by something.

One ghost less.

But a much more powerful malevolence had taken its place.

Cold sweat soaked He Sui’s back. Aside from that time in the elevator, he was rarely this frightened. His heart seemed to beat faster as he stared at He Xunye in shock and disbelief.

What was going on?

How could this be happening?

Wasn’t He Xunye dead?!

He had attended He Xunye’s funeral himself, personally witnessing He Xunye lying in the coffin, covered in white flowers as people mourned. Why would he suddenly appear in this place?

A look of dread appeared on He Sui’s young, arrogant face as a wave of hair-raising horror washed over him. He Xunye’s dark, heavy gaze finally shifted from Tan Xueci’s pale cheek to the hand gripping the boy’s shoulder.

He Sui’s palm immediately broke out in a cold sweat.

He Xunye’s gaze didn’t even contain a massive outburst of rage—the man was calm and steady—but He Sui felt a chill run down his spine as if a cold blade were suspended over his neck.

He hadn’t been willing to give up so easily and tried to grit his teeth and keep his arm around Tan Xueci. A ghost marriage held no legal power; even if Tan Xueci broke up with him, it shouldn’t have anything to do with He Xunye.

But after a few minutes of stalemate, meeting He Xunye’s dark eyes that seemed to hold a mocking glint, he felt a vivid, skin-crawling killing intent. His very breath felt constricted.

He Sui swallowed hard and finally, with a dark expression, slowly released his grip. As a member of the He family, he possessed a certain level of sensitivity; his instinct told him that if he didn’t let go now, something terrifying would happen.

Furthermore, his jade was already broken. Although his father had found him a new amulet, it was incomparable to the jade statue that had been consecrated before the ancestral tablets. He couldn’t afford the gamble.

Most of the other guests and staff remained in a daze, but Zhang Chengfa was just like He Sui—covered in cold sweat, his expression as if he’d seen a ghost.

It really was He Xunye.

The He family didn’t just read feng shui; they also handled exorcisms and warding off evil. He Xunye was a standout even within the He family. Many matters that He Wuling couldn’t handle were eventually passed to him. However, He Xunye had an eccentric personality and was extremely difficult to get along with; people rarely sought him out unless they encountered a dire emergency.

After all, inviting others was for saving a life; inviting He Xunye was like being called by the King of Hell. Who would want to meet the King of Hell voluntarily?

A few years ago, Zhang’s father was suddenly possessed. Black water constantly flowed from his mouth, he lay unconscious in the hospital, and his belly was highly distended as if the black water would never run out.

Terrified, Zhang rushed to invite He Xunye. He Xunye took one look and said with a cold face: “Prepare the funeral feast.”

Refusing to give up, Zhang invited him several more times. Every time, He Xunye said the same thing: “Prepare the feast.”

Zhang Chengfa: “…”

The rest didn’t need to be said. He Xunye looked up, signaled that he understood, and then…

Just as they were about to start the funeral feast, an old hand reached out from the coffin.

Your father is still here.

Zhang Chengfa: “…”

However, the old man’s time truly hadn’t come. He Xunye hadn’t saved him because there was no need; the old man had simply offended a deity while sacrificing to ancestors in his hometown and was being punished. But He Xunye’s decision to save or not save, to speak or not speak, depended entirely on his own mood.

Since then, Zhang never dared to invite He Xunye again. He had been beaten by his father until his head was covered in bumps, which didn’t go away for six months. Why six months? Because his father would get furious and hit him again every time he thought about it.

Zhang Chengfa’s heart was full of bitterness, and he couldn’t wipe away his cold sweat fast enough. He had recently attended He Xunye’s funeral, out of gratitude since his father was still alive. He had even sent a massive wreath with a couplet he wrote himself. Now, the recipient of that wreath was standing right in front of him, making his legs go weak.

But the rest of the crew just looked at each other, none daring to speak. Zhang Chengfa finally stepped forward and said boldly: “Mr… Mr. He?”

“CEO Zhang.” He Xunye glanced at him, his tone distant and cold, though he seemed to remember him.

Zhang Chengfa finally let out a sigh of relief. He could still speak human words and seemed reasonably civil—he didn’t look like a ghost.

The He family was so mysterious; maybe that death was just a smokescreen. He Xunye was standing perfectly fine in front of them; how could he be dead? He had never seen such a flamboyant ghost.

“Um,” Zhang Chengfa signaled to the others, “Let me introduce everyone. This is Mr. He…”

The bullet comments had also reacted by now. He Wuling was low-profile and mysterious to the outside world, but many knew of the vast He family. Some viewers had even sought the He family’s help before.

[I don’t know if I should say this, but I’ve seen him. He seems to be He Sui’s young uncle. The He family is a huge feudal clan; I heard before that He Sui’s young uncle was the next head of the family.]

The director looked at He Xunye tremulously. Though he didn’t know the man, seeing He Sui’s pale face and Zhang Chengfa’s exceptionally respectful attitude, he knew this person was a big deal. He asked hesitatingly: “Mr. He, your visit to our production team is for…?”

What exactly are you here for? You scared the life out of me.

“My spouse is ill,” He Xunye raised his dark eyes. He placed the dripping black umbrella by the door, his attitude humble. “I was worried and wanted to come see him. My apologies, am I disturbing you?”

“No,” the director said quickly, “Not at all.”

He Xunye nodded politely and walked toward Tan Xueci, who was still standing there in a daze.

The fever reducer he took hadn’t worked at all. His eyelids and cheeks were currently flushed bright red, his snowy skin looking as if it were ripe fruit, and his muddled brain couldn’t process things properly.

He could only watch blankly as He Xunye walked up to him and reached out to touch his face.

“You have a fever,” He Xunye said, his cold hand resting on the boy’s face as his dark eyes gazed at him.

“Mr. He,” Zhang Chengfa was dying of curiosity and couldn’t help asking, “When did you get married?”

Aren’t you dead?

He Xunye: “Last month.”

Zhang Chengfa: “…”

You were dead last month!

Even if it was a fake death, you were still “dead”! Zhang Chengfa immediately broke out in goosebumps. Was this man dead or not? A funeral on one hand and a wedding on the other—it couldn’t be a ghost marriage, could it?

He Xunye’s complexion had been pale in life, and under the flickering candlelight, his eyes appeared even darker and more viscous. Though he was tall and upright, he lacked color; only his lips were an intense, vibrant red, carrying a heavy ghostly aura that made people afraid to look directly at him.

He Xunye touched Tan Xueci’s soft, hot cheek, then looked up at He Sui. His tone was flat but carried a condescending authority: “I recall you and Xiao Xue have already broken up. Is this how your parents taught you to pester another person’s husband?”

“…”

He Sui was stunned. His face suddenly burned as if he’d been slapped; it was the first time someone had scolded him for a lack of upbringing in front of so many people.

He was fuming, feeling that He Xunye had no right to scold him from a senior’s position, yet he had no way to argue back because He Xunye was his elder.

He Xunye was the late-born son of He Wuling and Xu Yuzhu; his older siblings were at least ten or twenty years older than him. So, even though He Xunye was young, he was of the same generation as He Sui’s parents.

But so what if he was a senior? He was just a young uncle. He Xunye made him sound like a shameless “other man.”

He Sui’s face was dark. Just as he was about to speak, he suddenly heard a low chuckle in his ear. The voice was deep and cold, carrying a ghostly breath as if a spirit were whispering directly to him: “Was being the ‘other man’ for three months not enough for you?”

“…”

He Sui whipped his head around. Humiliation and rage surged within him, his breathing growing heavy, but his eyes were full of terror.

Because it seemed only he had heard it. No one else reacted to the sentence; seeing him turn his head so suddenly, they just looked at him in confusion.

He looked back at He Xunye. He Xunye was holding Tan Xueci’s shoulder, still wearing that serious, cold expression.

What was going on?

He had definitely heard He Xunye’s voice.

“You…” He Sui’s chest heaved, his face dark with fury. How could there be someone so shameless? Who exactly lacked upbringing? Who was the shameless “other man”?!

Tan Xueci had dated him for three months, but back then, Tan Xueci had absolutely nothing to do with He Xunye.

By what right did He Xunye call him the “other man”?!

If anything, He Xunye was the interloper! He was dating Tan Xueci; if it weren’t for the He family’s sudden marriage alliance, he and Tan Xueci would never have broken up.

He Sui was nearly as tall as He Xunye, but he was so flustered by rage that he seemed shorter. He had never seen such a thick-skinned person. He desperately wanted Tan Xueci to hear what He Xunye was saying; Tan Xueci would have to be blind to like this kind of man.

Tan Xueci’s porcelain-white face was flushed red. He was still in a daze—what “other person’s husband”? He had always assumed he was He Xunye’s wife; could… could he be someone else’s husband too?

After He Xunye finished speaking, he didn’t look at He Sui again. He touched Tan Xueci’s face once more and suddenly lowered his head, pressing his cold lips against the boy’s forehead.

He Xunye’s lips were too cold, and Tan Xueci was startled. A delayed blush spread from his ears to his neck, and his eyes filled with moisture; now his whole body seemed to be burning red.

Why did he suddenly kiss him? And so many people were watching.

“I just came to see Xiao Xue,” He Xunye said politely to the director. “He’s in poor health, and I was worried because he’s sick. I won’t disturb you further; I’ll leave now.”

With that, he made to leave.

“Wait… wait a minute!” The director hurriedly raised a hand. “Mr. He!”

The live stream had already exploded; the comments never stopped.

[Holy sh*t, there really is a husband. But this husband… nothing to say, he really is much stronger than He Sui. Bloodline suppression.]

[#HeSui is Useless#]

[No, He Sui, I have to say something about you. What are you doing lusting after your own young aunt? You’re being a bit too thick-skinned.]

[Help, am I allowed to watch this for free? How did they just start kissing? This isn’t right… where did he kiss? Can’t you two find each other’s mouths? Do you want me to help you find them? pervert.jpg]

[Xiao Xue is blushing from the kiss! AHHH Baby, you can’t be like this. Mommy really has to scold you. What will you do if you react this strongly to just one kiss? Wuuu our Xiao Xue.]

The bullet comments were as festive as New Year’s, but some people were still confused.

[Wait, didn’t He Sui say Tan Xueci’s husband was dead? What’s going on?]

[Who knows? But the man is standing right here. Look, there’s even a shadow on the floor…]

The user who sent this comment was about to say there was a shadow on the floor, but then noticed that He Xunye didn’t seem to have one. The man’s skin looked even more deathly pale against the black suit. Tan Xueci was dizzy in his arms, making He Xunye look like a male ghost sucking away someone’s essence.

The user’s hand shook in fear, sending the half-finished comment. After a moment of blurred vision, she noticed black water snaking and writhing at He Xunye’s feet, gradually twisting into a shadow that resembled a human.

She had been watching the stream at home with the lights off; she felt a chill through her entire body. By the time she reacted, her back was soaked in cold sweat.

The production team didn’t care about having an extra guest. The live stream was blowing up; the director was desperate for He Xunye to stay. Thus, he tried his best to persuade him: “Mr. He, you teach folklore, so you’re perfect for our show! And you can take care of Teacher Tan.”

He Xunye seemed to hesitate, fearing he would interfere with their filming, but finally, the malevolent spirit’s red lips curled up. He reached out to shake the director’s hand and said: “Then I shall impose upon you.”

Tan Xueci: “…”

What an act.

He had no intention of leaving at all.

“Did Mr. He drive here?” Qin Shuyao asked.

She had been following the drama with her mouth wide open the entire time. Her hair was already messy from the night, losing her cool celebrity image as she eavesdropped on Tan Xueci’s business. She hadn’t expected the seemingly dazed Tan Xueci to be fought over by an uncle and nephew.

She gave Tan Xueci a teasing wink and then said to He Xunye: “These mountain roads are hard to travel, especially in the rain. It must have been hard on you. Everyone is tired; Old Chen and I will go make some late-night snacks. Let’s eat before we sleep.”

Traces of the Wilderness had been filming for seven years now. Both she and Chen Qing had been guests since the first episode. Auntie Zhang and the others had already gone to bed, so she and Chen Qing naturally acted as the hosts.

He Xunye didn’t decline. “Alright, thank you.”

While Chen Qing and Qin Shuyao went to prepare the snacks, the other guests went back to tidy up their things, planning to sleep immediately after eating. Jin Chen and Lu Qi also returned to their room.

Tan Xueci was acting suspicious; he had wanted to sneak in behind Lu Qi and the others, but the man caught his wrist and pulled him under the eaves of the nearby woodshed.

There were no lights here. In the dim light of the torrential rain, He Xunye’s face looked deep and cold. Tan Xueci’s heart beat so fast his palms began to sweat. Finally, he whispered timidly: “Hub… Hubby.”

He was afraid, his body trembling. He had wanted to smile at He Xunye and then lean into his arms to ask him how he’d come, as if nothing had happened. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t smile; his eyes were slightly watery and red from fear.

Tan Xueci truly couldn’t tell if he was seeing ghosts or if his mind was the problem. After staying at the Tan house for so long, anyone would develop mental issues. He felt that if Tan Shangli and Tan Yanning went to the hospital for a check-up, they might turn out to have schizophrenia too.

Tan Xueci’s cold, pale, and weary face was framed by the heavy rain, making him look drenched. His eyes were full of regret and fear.

He had thought that if, as Xie Yun said, he was dreaming, then even if He Xunye was a ghost, there was nothing to fear. And if he really was a ghost, he couldn’t escape anyway.

He had watched an “emotional mastery” class before, where the master said to be direct with men: if you like a man, go up and call him “hubby”—few men can resist that.

He had been terrified in the funeral hall, and he was sick that day, so his muddled brain only remembered the master’s words: call him hubby, call him hubby, call him hubby.

If men couldn’t resist it, maybe male ghosts couldn’t either.

Whether it was a dream or reality, He Xunye was dead; he could only be a ghost, not a human. He would just call him “hubby”—after all, he didn’t dare call him by name. What if there wasn’t a ghost but his calling summoned a soul?

Tan Xueci bit his lip, his eyes dark and gloomy on his pale face. He hadn’t expected He Xunye to be so good to him. For a touch or a kiss, He Xunye would treat him well; he felt he wasn’t losing out. No one liked him anyway; if he went to someone else, even if he worked himself to the bone, they might not treat him as well as He Xunye did.

Tan Xueci’s fingers trembled. He might really be a fool, happily thinking he’d gotten a husband for free. But he forgot that whether it was a dream or reality, he was making a deal with a malevolent spirit. What a ghost wanted wasn’t just a touch or a kiss.

Even in a dream, he didn’t want to be “dealt with” by a ghost. That black mist that touched him was likely He Xunye; if he were truly touched by someone else, he felt He Xunye would definitely be angry. That would be very bad.

Tan Xueci couldn’t help biting his finger; he always wanted to bite his hand when he was nervous or upset. His slender white finger was covered in tiny, bloody marks.

There really were ghosts.

So there really were ghosts.

So many people had seen He Xunye—it wasn’t just him—but He Xunye was indeed dead.

Tan Xueci’s heart began to beat uncomfortably.

The black mist had only touched him at first, but later it had tried several times to crawl into his body. He Xunye truly wanted to “have” him and was nearly at his limit. That was why he had tried to have He Xunye caught; who knew He Xunye would find him so quickly?

He didn’t know what those Taoists had done to He Xunye. This dead ghost was good at acting; it was impossible to tell if he was angry or not. What if those Taoists had gone too far and this ghost was furious? What if he killed him after he was done with him?

Tan Xueci’s face was full of fear and sorrow, his features crumpled in conflict. He felt that being near He Xunye was being near pain, but being away from him was being away from happiness.

When He Xunye wasn’t around, all he thought about were He Xunye’s good points: Hubby would give him money to spend, Hubby would carry him, hold him, and praise him every day. He really missed He Xunye.

But now that he’d seen He Xunye, he was restless, wishing the Taoists would find a Leifeng Pagoda to lock He Xunye away.

He was just that kind of villain—wanting to take all the benefits but willing to give nothing in return.

Tan Xueci didn’t know why He Xunye was good to him. Even humans weren’t good to him; why was a malevolent spirit so kind? The spirit would eventually demand a price, and he might not be able to pay it. Would he die after being “used” by a ghost? But he had no one to ask for advice; he’d never met anyone else who’d been “used” by a male ghost.

Gripped by the wrist, Tan Xueci’s pale face shifted between gloom and timidity. Finally, he decided to pretend nothing had happened—pretend he was a fool, pretend he couldn’t see and didn’t know there were ghosts in this world.

His beautiful face scrunched up as he forced a smile, reaching out to hug He Xunye. He whispered: “Hubby…”

“Xiao Xue,” the ghost’s gaze was dark and cloying, yet his tone was very gentle as he spoke. “Look, what is that in the courtyard?”

Tan Xueci reflexively turned his head and almost screamed in terror. Fortunately, He Xunye reached out in time to cover his mouth.

Cold sweat instantly soaked Tan Xueci’s back. He hadn’t noticed that over a dozen people were standing in the courtyard behind him, all wearing patched old clothes, looking like apparitions in the dark, oppressive rain.

One of them looked up; he looked very strange, with exceptionally long eye slits and asymmetrical eyes—one high and one low—grinning at him while drooling.

Beside him were several white-haired elders whose skin appeared a greyish-purple. They seemed to be eating some incense; when they looked up and saw Tan Xueci watching them, they assumed he wanted to steal it, and their gaze instantly turned cold and venomous.

They were all ghosts.

Tan Xueci was on the verge of collapsing. The entire courtyard was packed with ghosts. There was even a ghost with no legs, crawling on the ground, its dark, muddy nails reaching out, trying to grab his feet.

Terrified, Tan Xueci burrowed into He Xunye’s arms. He Xunye didn’t push him away; he held him in his arms as usual. But the ghost’s lips curled up, and his dark eyes looked down at him, seemingly filled with ghostly malice, as he asked: “Is this enough? Do you want to see more?”

Tan Xueci’s lips trembled. He was stunned and didn’t answer. In those few seconds, beneath the torrential rain, something seemed to be floating in the dark clouds. Tan Xueci instinctively tried to see clearly, only to discover it was a massive, grey-green ghostly face.

He almost screamed, but the ghost’s hand held his mouth tightly shut; he couldn’t make a sound. His eyes were wide with shock, and tears streamed down his face.

He kicked wildly, trying to get He Xunye to let go, but He Xunye didn’t loosen his grip. The ghost’s arms held him in a death grip. Finally, Tan Xueci swung his hand and slapped the ghost across the face.

The slap was incredibly heavy; the ghost’s pale cheek instantly turned red, and a bloody hue seemed to surge in the depths of his dark eyes.

Tan Xueci’s entire body shuddered.

“Still unwilling to believe?” The ghost’s cold breath paused for a second after the slap. Then, he lowered his eyes, his expression unreadable. He began to laugh, leaning toward Tan Xueci as his thin lips moved: “I can show you even more ghosts.”

The other guests had finished tidying up and were waiting in the main hall for the snacks. Suddenly, they heard a loud slap from outside that even the torrential rain couldn’t mask. Everyone was startled.

Only Tan Xueci and He Xunye were outside. Zhang Chengfa quickly poked his head out. “Mr. He? Did something happen?”

It was too dark in the courtyard to see clearly.

The ghost’s viscous dark eyes showed no emotion. Seeing Zhang Chengfa about to come out with an umbrella, a trace of annoyance flickered in his gaze. He spoke in a dark, dripping voice: “Nothing. Go back in.”

“…” Zhang Chengfa snapped back. “Right away.”

He didn’t dare interfere; it sounded as if the man were telling him to beat it.

Lu Qi was scared to death inside. The sound felt like someone was being hit—like a slap, and a very strong one at that. His heart pounded; could it be that He Xunye saw Tan Xueci with He Sui and got so angry he committed domestic violence?

With Tan Xueci’s small build, one slap could kill him.

Surely he wouldn’t resort to violence?

Lu Qi sat down and stood up repeatedly, wanting to rush out but then retreating in cowardice. It wouldn’t go that far, right? No, wait, is this a human or a ghost?

He’s already dead! He finally got a wife but doesn’t cherish him, and even commits domestic violence? He deserved to die!

…

The ghost had been slapped. A few strands of black hair fell across his brow and nose. Seeing Tan Xueci finally calm down a bit, he released the hand covering the boy’s mouth.

“…What do you want?” Tan Xueci met his gaze with red eyes, his timidity gone, his expression darker than the storm.

The ghosts He Xunye had summoned in the courtyard had vanished, but his expression was still unpleasant.

The ghost reached out to touch his face, but Tan Xueci slapped his hand away, leaving a red mark on the back of it too. The ghost curled his lips and said: “I just want you to properly recognize our marital relationship.”

He wanted Tan Xueci to know clearly that he had married a malevolent spirit and then actively stayed with him. They were a couple who had bowed before the altar and performed the rites; they should never be apart.

Tan Xueci: “…”

Bullsht.* For all the nice words, he felt He Xunye just wanted to “deal” with him.

“Or,” the ghost said with a smile, “did you have Yu Qingxu catch me so you could be with He Sui?”

His eyes gradually turned a vibrant red. Tan Xueci, who had just been screaming and hitting him, became afraid again—afraid He Xunye would get angry and kill him. His whole body was shaking. He thought that maybe he should just beg He Xunye; he would do anything.

He knew best: malevolent spirits have no humanity or feelings; they won’t feel pity. Whether the spirit was good to him or killed him depended entirely on He Xunye. He was just an ant in the ghost’s hand.

Although He Xunye was good to him, he never expected He Xunye to truly love him. Humans and ghosts are different.

The ghost, bearing the swelling pain of the slap mark on his face, fell silent for a moment. Then, he put his arms around the boy’s waist and lowered his head to rest it on Tan Xueci’s thin shoulder. He said:

“I seem to be a little unhappy.”

Tan Xueci was stunned. What did that mean?

The ghost raised his vibrant red eyes. Seeing no reaction from Tan Xueci, he rubbed his cheek against the boy’s and pulled him closer. The ghost’s voice was very low as he pleaded:

“Xiao Mie, coax me.”

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