Chapter 42: A Broken Pot for a Rotten Lid

Tan Xueci bit his lip. He Xunye stood still where he was. Tan Xueci had originally intended to just turn around and walk away.

But for some reason, as the misty, cold rain drifted down, the ghost’s form seemed to become a bit paler and more blurred, as if he were about to melt into the winter rain of the mountain village. It made Tan Xueci feel inexplicably uncomfortable.

He was reminded of the ghost he had encountered before, peeping at his wife and child from outside a shop.

Stop acting so pitiful. Tan Xueci’s face slumped. This was the first time he had met someone who was even better at “acting” than he was.

“Hey, Teacher Tan,” Zhang Chengli drove the ox cart over. Seeing Tan Xueci alone, he asked, “Where is Mr. He?”

Zhang had lived in Yanxia Village for seven or eight years as a child. His family hadn’t been well-off back then, so he knew many farm chores and often helped around the house.

The other guests and staff members had already come out. Bai Shuizhang was introducing the stone tablets in front of the temple; they would be leaving as soon as he finished.

They were all huddled together, chatting, while the space around the malevolent spirit was extremely desolate. Aside from the biting rain, there was nothing else.

Tan Xueci’s heart thumped. He remembered a rainy year when he was a child—his mother had taken A-Yan (Tan Yanning) out into the courtyard to play in the puddles.

Gao Ying was very strict with Tan Yanning. He was her lifeblood, and she was terrified of losing him. She wouldn’t let him do anything remotely dangerous or go near the water; getting his clothes dirty or tripping was strictly forbidden.

It was rare for her to accompany Tan Yanning in such games.

Tan Yanning was just like him—full of bad intentions and only wanting benefits. He wasn’t a reserved, self-disciplined child by nature; he was simply afraid of Gao Ying’s scolding, so he molded himself into the person she wanted to see: serious and refined.

But he was just a child, after all. No matter how much he pretended, he couldn’t always control his nature. Tan Yanning had been very happy that day. Tan Xueci had heard them from the attic and leaned against the window with his little sheep plushie, his soft cheeks pressed against the damp, cold glass.

He chewed his fingers for a while, his eyes darting around. He noticed that Auntie Zhang had forgotten to lock the door after delivering his meal. He ran down from the attic and watched them from a distance, secretly playing in the water himself.

Tan Yanning jumped so hard that Gao Ying laughed and stepped back, saying A-Yan had given Mommy a “big scare.”

Tan Xueci hugged his sheep, the envy in his eyes almost tangible. He muttered under his breath and imitated Gao Ying, hopping backward. His eyes were bright, and his little face was flushed.

“Mommy got a big scare, I got a little scare.”

He thought he was being sneaky, but his splashing had actually made a lot of noise. He was quickly discovered. Gao Ying slapped him and told Auntie Zhang to lock him back upstairs.

Tan Xueci had fallen onto the bed, covering his face, kicking his legs in a rage. He could only vent by punching his sheep’s backside a few times.

His snowy little face was wet and red. With swollen eyes, he listened to them continue playing outside. Tan Shangli and Tan Chongchuan came home, too; they were all talking out there.

Tan Xueci felt as if he had been abandoned by the whole world. He wished a flood would suddenly wash them all away. He was high up on the second floor and wouldn’t drown. Then, someone would have to call him “Xiao Xue” and beg for help before he would pull them up.

But such a “good thing” never happened. He was always the one ignored and neglected—like a little mouse.

Tan Xueci couldn’t stop himself from wanting to chew his fingers. He glared resentfully at He Xunye. Dead ghost. It’s not like you don’t have legs. I ran away; can’t you come and find me?

He Xunye looked like a social outcast standing there alone. He himself was disliked; if he found a husband who was also repulsive to others, people would definitely mock him.

Tan Xueci lowered his head, his pale neck bent, as he dawdled back toward He Xunye.

It’s not because I think the dead ghost is pitiful, he told himself. I just don’t want people to laugh at us and say we’re a pair of mice.

The ghost’s dark, icy eyes turned toward him, and his red lips gradually curved into a smile. Before Tan Xueci could get close, the ghost reached out. His body carried the damp chill of the rain.

“…” Tan Xueci unwillingly took his hand, only to be yanked into a tight embrace.

Holding his wife, the ghost let out a low, satisfied sigh. Tan Xueci’s health wasn’t great, and his body temperature was lower than average, but to a ghost, he felt like a little furnace. He was also crackling with internal anger, making him feel warm and comfortable to hold.

He lowered his head to kiss the tip of Tan Xueci’s cold ear and pecked at his cheek, praising him: “Xiao Xue is so good.”

His wife was truly adorable.

[??? This isn’t right. I open the stream and see this? Mental health monitor, I feel a bit unwell. crying.jpg]

[Wait a minute, why don’t I have a wife like this? Why does HE get to have a wife like this?! Help, this guy tore my thesis to shreds before he resigned, and now he’s stealing my wife.]

[I can’t take it anymore. What is he pretending for? Usually, at group meetings, his mouth is like it’s dipped in poison. I’m afraid if he kisses Xiao Xue, he’ll poison him to death.]

The cameraman, draped in a raincoat and holding a camera, was quite far from them. Although the audio didn’t pick up their conversation, the visual was clear.

He Sui’s face twisted for a moment. If I had known, I wouldn’t have cared about having children. Tan Xueci had said he didn’t mind if He Sui couldn’t have kids; why was he still hung up on it?

He knew Tan Xueci was a little fool who said unpleasant things, yet he still insisted on being angry with him. He Sui had never even kissed or hugged him, and now…

He also hadn’t expected that Tan Xueci would be so obedient when held. Anyone could tell Tan Xueci was angry with He Xunye, but he seemed to turn soft the moment he was embraced. He gripped the man’s coat buttons, stuffing his fingers into the buttonholes, remaining silent and sullen.

He Sui felt as if a heavy stone were pressing on his heart. He ground his teeth. I’ll take him back and make him hate me.

…

The guests soon returned to their lodgings. Zhang Chengli and He Sui went to make lunch.

Zhang was in his early thirties and still kept in decent shape—enough to go on a dating show—but he wasn’t what he used to be. He was a great cook who often made meals at home, and his weight was climbing every year. Seeing him cook, the other guests cheered about their “good fortune.”

In these settings, Tan Xueci appeared a bit dazed. He didn’t know how to socialize or flatter others; he only knew how to eat.

However, he was currently “a sheep riding on a ghost’s coattails.” As He Xunye’s wife, his status had risen. He didn’t need to flatter Zhang Chengli; Zhang would actively come over to ask him what he wanted to eat.

Tan Xueci’s face was listless. One moment he was sorrowful, wondering why he had to be haunted by a ghost, and the next moment he felt quite pleased with himself.

Zhang Chengli had the look of a boss—a bit of a slippery, worldly air, but also the dignity of someone in a high position. Yet, here he was, nodding and bowing next to Tan Xueci. No matter what Tan Xueci said he wanted to eat, Zhang would praise his “excellent taste.”

Tan Xueci hadn’t realized he had such “taste.”

While they were chatting in the main room, an auntie from next door came over to borrow a bamboo basket. She looked to be in her fifties, her eyes clouded with grey cataracts and her expression numb and dazed.

While others in the village were somewhat curious about the crew and the cameras, she showed no emotion at all.

Auntie Zhang was helping Zhang Chengli knead dough and couldn’t spare a hand, so she called to Xiao Cai: “Go, bring the basket out to your auntie.”

Xiao Cai’s condition seemed slightly better than her brother’s. Though she was also simple-minded, she could occasionally help with chores. Xiao Shuan, on the other hand, just wandered around with his head down, rarely reacting to his surroundings.

As the neighbor left with the basket, Zhang Chengli walked over to the stove. He looked at Xiao Cai from a distance and couldn’t help but say to Auntie Zhang: “With children like this, life must be hard.”

When he was a kid, there were several simple-minded people in the village. Coming back now, they seemed to have all died. Their families were gone too, their courtyards empty save for dust and spiderwebs.

There were fewer and fewer people in this village, but thousands of unsold paper offerings remained piled up. In the corner of Auntie Zhang’s courtyard, there were stacks of paper gold and silver ingots, red and white banners, and various burial shrouds.

“It’s not so bad for me. At least the children are still here. Simple or not, they’re company,” Auntie Zhang pouted, gesturing in the direction the neighbor had gone. “In her house… her daughter died in childbirth. Her son, Chunping, went to the city—to your Beijing—to do business. He died over a month ago. When they brought him back, his intestines were spilling out all over the place. That was truly tragic.”

Chunping… Zhang Chunping?!

Tan Xueci, overhearing this in the main room, sat up straight instantly. No matter how he heard it, it sounded like Zhang Chunping.

Zhang Chunping is dead?

Back then, he had been covered by the bridal veil and saw nothing, only hearing a strange chewing sound.

Tan Xueci’s lashes trembled, his cheeks turning pale. He stole a glance at He Xunye beside him.

The ghost had a sharp bone structure; from the side, his nose was high and straight, catching the cold light of the rain. Hearing Auntie Zhang’s words, his lips remained slightly upturned. There was no hint of guilt or fear.

Tan Xueci’s fingers curled. Cold sweat trickled down his pale jaw. He Xunye definitely killed him. But why? Perhaps the ghost just killed indiscriminately.

“I don’t like them looking at you with those eyes,” He Xunye said, as if he could peer into Tan Xueci’s mind. His dark phoenix eyes were curved, but the color was so black it was eerie. The ghost’s voice was a low, ethereal murmur: “I’ve said many times, you are mine.”

Tan Xueci wasn’t as composed as the ghost. He was restless. That woman didn’t know her son had been killed by a ghost; if she found out, would she seek revenge?

Malevolent spirits were full of lies and moody. Especially one with such deep resentment—they killed without logic. Even a small matter or an unintentional word could provoke them into murder.

Maybe one day, when He Xunye got bored, he would kill Tan Xueci too.

His heart raced like a drum, but he had no one to talk to. He sneaked away to pull out the talismans Yu Qingxu had given him from his small backpack and hid them on his person. But if Yu Qingxu himself couldn’t catch He Xunye, these papers probably wouldn’t work either.

He thought he was an expert, but he’s just a fraud.

Lunch was served half an hour later. Zhang Chengli had started braising fish before leaving that morning, and it had been simmering in the pot. Since winter was approaching, he had also made mutton and radish soup. The meat was tender, and Tan Xueci ate several pieces with his head down.

As he ate the mutton, he thought sorrowfully: Maybe in the future, I’ll be the one dismembered and eaten.

Auntie Zhang and Uncle Zhang seemed to have a good relationship. Auntie Zhang handled the household chores and took care of Xiao Cai and Xiao Shuan, while Uncle Zhang spent all day, from morning to night, doing handiwork. Every few days, he would wheel a cart to the village committee, and Bai Shuizhang would help him sell the items online.

During the meal, Uncle Zhang would occasionally put food in Auntie Zhang’s bowl.

“Little Sheep.”

Tan Xueci had his face buried in a bowl larger than his head. Hearing someone call him, he jolted. He looked up and realized He Xunye’s lips hadn’t moved, yet the ghost’s smiling voice rang in his ear: “I said, you must be good to me.”

“…” Tan Xueci, angry but afraid to speak, put a piece of fish in He Xunye’s bowl.

The corners of the ghost’s lips lifted further.

As he kept serving him, Tan Xueci saw that He Xunye wasn’t paying attention. He turned his chopsticks toward his own bowl, picked out the fish bones, and placed them on top of He Xunye’s rice.

The ghost acted as if he hadn’t seen a thing and ate them directly.

Tan Xueci bit the tip of his chopsticks and couldn’t help but wonder: Can ghosts eat human food? Then what were the incense sticks I burned for him before? I thought he couldn’t eat.

Even if he ate it, he probably couldn’t digest it. A ghost was still a ghost, even with a physical form; it wasn’t a “real” body. Yu Qingxu had said it was just a mass of condensed ghostly energy.

In that case, would the food just fall straight to the floor?

Tan Xueci’s face was gloomy as he thought maliciously: How is that any different from eating while pooping?

He stole a look at the floor, wanting to find evidence of something disgusting. But He Xunye ate normally like a person. The ghost was dressed impeccably and behaved with a decency that was almost pretentious.

Tan Xueci retracted his gaze, disappointed. After his eyes darted around for a while, he said in a small, timid voice: “Hubby, let me get you some more rice.”

“…” He Xunye glanced at his soft little face. After a pause, he said, “Okay.”

Tan Xueci had become so used to calling him “hubby” that he didn’t notice everyone was staring at him. Lu Qi covered his face in pain, while the bullet chat exploded.

[Who can resist this? This dog-man eats so well in private, and he doesn’t even share. angry.jpg]

[Baby, you’re such a doting wife.]

Tan Xueci didn’t know what they were saying. He ran to the kitchen with the bowl, quickly opened the bag of glutinous rice, sprinkled a handful of raw grains into the bowl, and stirred it with his chopsticks.

They say glutinous rice can ward off evil. He didn’t know if it would work on He Xunye.

His heart was beating slightly fast as he took the bowl back out. He Xunye reached out and took it. On the first bite, he seemed to pause, then suddenly let out a laugh before continuing to eat.

Chewing on hard, raw glutinous rice must feel like eating sand and stones.

“Mr. He,” Zhang Chengli was puzzled. “What are you laughing at?”

He Xunye couldn’t seem to control his laughter. The ghost’s shoulders trembled, making Tan Xueci feel inexplicably red-faced and ashamed. He wanted to kick He Xunye under the table, but remembering he was a ghost, he didn’t dare and pulled his feet back.

After laughing for a while, He Xunye said: “It’s nothing. I just think eating with everyone is very pleasant. I haven’t encountered such an interesting thing in a long time.”

Zhang Chengli was completely confused, but as long as the man was happy, it was fine. He wished He Xunye would stay happy and stop bothering him.

When He Xunye finished, he handed the bowl back to Tan Xueci. “Xiao Xue, would you mind getting me a little more?”

“…” Tan Xueci felt resentful. But they were still on camera. A dark look crossed his beautiful face before he quickly controlled his expression. Eat, eat, eat! You’ve already had two bowls and you’re still eating! You’re eating away all your fortune!

He was obedient but resentful. He went back to the kitchen to get more rice. This time, he put in more glutinous rice than regular rice. Even the viewers could tell something was wrong with He Xunye’s rice.

[Why do I feel like it’s not cooked?] [And it’s not the same kind of rice, it looks like glutinous rice.] [Serves him right. Who told you to show up suddenly like a ghost? Now you’re being exorcised by your wife.]

The chat was dying of laughter.

Before He Xunye finished this bowl, Zhang Chengli served them each a bowl of soup. Tan Xueci sneaked back to the kitchen, wanting to grab another handful of glutinous rice to put into He Xunye’s mutton soup later.

He grabbed a lot, hesitated, then put a hundred-yuan bill into the rice bag. It pained him deeply. He had spent another hundred on He Xunye. If this continued, his three-million-yuan inheritance would be gone soon. He Xunye is such a spendthrift.

With a slumped face, he muttered curses under his breath. As he turned to go back, he came face-to-face with He Xunye’s blue-white face. He nearly screamed.

When the hell did this dead ghost get here?! He hadn’t felt a thing.

The ghost’s thick, long lashes drooped. He didn’t answer. He took Tan Xueci’s hand; the boy’s thin, white hand looked tiny in his palm.

He pried open Tan Xueci’s fingers. His vibrant red tongue reached out. His tall frame leaned very low, burying his face in Tan Xueci’s palm. One by one, he licked away every grain of the “evil-warding” glutinous rice, even licking between Tan Xueci’s fingers.

“…” Tan Xueci’s mind went blank. He couldn’t speak.

The ghost’s handsome face looked up, his crimson lips curving. He said softly: “If there’s anything else Xiao Xue wants me to eat, you can give it to me directly. I won’t refuse anything you give me.”

Tan Xueci thought he was insane. The glutinous rice seemed to have worked a little, as He Xunye’s face was a bit bluer than before. His lips were bleeding. Only a powerful malevolent spirit like him could hold on; any other ghost would probably have had their stomach burned through.

Yet He Xunye was still smiling, as if he felt no pain.

Looking at the black blood flowing from He Xunye’s mouth, Tan Xueci felt a bit dizzy. He had never hurt anyone like this before.

And He Xunye had seen him taking the rice. Caught in the act, He Xunye would surely realize he was actually quite malicious. The rest of the crew might find out too.

Tan Xueci bit his lip, his lashes trembling. What should I do? He Xunye is a heartless ghost. He kept his head down, nearly picking his cuticles raw, remaining silent and refusing to look at the man. His eyes were very red.

“Don’t pick at your hands,” He Xunye said, taking his hand. He liked Tan Xueci to be dressed beautifully and be happy every day; he didn’t like his little face always being so listless.

Tan Xueci lifted his lashes and stole a glance at He Xunye. Finally, he asked hesitantly: “Are you… not angry?”

He had found a Taoist to capture He Xunye, yet He Xunye hadn’t mentioned it once. Could Yu Qingxu really be that useless? Had he failed to catch him at all?

“Why would I be angry?” The ghost leaned in and kissed him. Tan Xueci tasted the metallic tang of blood.

The ghost’s voice was so low it was almost gentle: “It’s normal for a little sheep to be afraid of a ghost. You can be afraid of me; I only require that you don’t leave me.”

“…” Tan Xueci didn’t know what to say. He Xunye was good to him, yes, but he also knew Tan Xueci was afraid yet still insisted on scaring him. Truly a heartless ghost.

Tan Xueci felt guilty for a moment, but then resentment and a sense of grievance began to bubble up again.

Fine. Now I’m vain, malicious, and full of bad intentions, and He Xunye is mean, lustful, and even more malicious than me. People will say we’re “a broken pot for a rotten lid”—a perfect match!

No one would ever come to save him again. He was going to be a ghost’s wife for the rest of his life.

He Xunye’s blood had stopped flowing. He still looked impeccable. Tan Xueci followed him out, looking dejected.

The rain outside was getting heavier. Though it was daytime, it looked almost as dark as night. After lunch, the guests went to take a nap. Tan Xueci tossed and turned on the heated brick bed. Finally, he sneaked on his coat and ran over to He Xunye’s room.

He peeked through the door crack first. Confirming He Xunye seemed to be sleeping, he tiptoed in.

He Xunye used to hold him every night while he slept. He didn’t know that after he fell asleep, the ghost would keep his eyes open and watch him all night; he thought He Xunye was sleeping just like him.

Tan Xueci lay down next to He Xunye, cautiously observing his face. He Xunye didn’t seem injured. But then, the man had smiled even while pulling a ghost infant from his own stomach—he was a pervert. Maybe pain actually felt good to him.

He hesitated, wanting to pry open He Xunye’s mouth to see if the glutinous rice had corroded it. He also wanted to strip off He Xunye’s clothes to check—maybe he was just acting tough, and his body was actually a mess from the Taoist’s lightning, and he was about to die.

Tan Xueci knew people could induce vomiting; maybe He Xunye would do the same to get rid of the rice. He just wanted to see if that Taoist was a fraud and how effective his rice actually was.

Lost in thought, he finally reached his hand toward He Xunye. But before he could touch him, his wrist was suddenly grabbed.

Tan Xueci was startled and tried to pull away, but he was dragged onto the bed. The ghost opened his mouth and said something annoying:

“Why are you peeping at me? Have you fallen in love with me?”

Tan Xueci let out a small gasp. Who would fall in love with a ghost? He swallowed and stammered: “I… I was just passing by.”

“I see.” The ghost chuckled, then put his arm around Tan Xueci’s waist, pulling him into a face-to-face embrace. It had only been a few days, yet it felt as if they hadn’t slept together in a long time.

Tan Xueci felt inexplicably awkward. In the darkness, their noses brushed against each other. He tentatively tried to move away, but the ghost brushed a few strands of his long black hair, brought them to his lips, and kissed them. He said softly:

“I thought Xiao Xue missed me.”

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