Chapter 46: Husband and Wife

Tan Xueci was startled into a jump, his ears flushing a deep crimson. He scrambled to cover He Xunye’s mouth, terrified that others would hear more about “offspring,” but it was too late. Every head in the room had already turned toward them.

Even the livestream viewers caught the remark.

[What?! What did he say???] [Waaaah, my “wife” had a baby and I didn’t even know? #SlappingXiaoXue.jpg] [Wait, brother, why are you so confident? You’re acting like you were the one who gave birth.] [Shocking: Male Professor from Beijing University gives birth in a mountain village.]

The other guests were equally dumbfounded. Zhang Chengfa scratched his slightly balding head and stammered, “Mr… Mr. He, you two already have a child?”

He couldn’t help but steal a hesitant glance at Tan Xueci’s stomach. However, when he met He Xunye’s eerie, chilling, and slightly bloodshot eyes, he nearly wet himself in terror.

Shameless. Utterly shameless.

Tan Xueci’s snowy cheeks were now completely red, like a little crab being steamed alive. He had never met someone so brazen in his life. Is being able to have children something to be proud of?!

He Xunye, however, saw no issue. He knew Tan Xueci’s thoughts were traditional and that he wanted children. He Sui couldn’t provide that, but he could—he viewed this as a competitive advantage.

“No…” Tan Xueci sputtered for a long time, clutching his stomach as if to hide it from view. He struggled to find a defense. “There isn’t…”

Breaking into a nervous sweat and unable to find an explanation, he could only push He Xunye away. With tears pooling in his eyes, he whispered, “Hubby, say something!”

The malevolent spirit watched as the boy turned beet-red, nearly on the verge of tears, before finally speaking to the others. “It was just a joke.”

“…”

He Xunye’s tone earlier had been so earnest that no one found the joke funny. Only Zhang Chengfa let out a few awkward, dry chuckles. “Haha, Mr. He certainly enjoys a good jest.”

The Taoist, Yu He, flicked his horsetail whisk and stared coldly at He Xunye, saying nothing more.

Tan Xueci lost his appetite but forced himself to finish the porridge at the bottom of his bowl before running outside alone.

“Xiao Mie,” the ghost followed him out. His deep, thick gaze followed the boy, his profile cast in shadows against the dim, flickering embers of the kitchen stove. He smiled. “Why are you hiding from me?”

“I’ve even birthed a child for you. If you don’t want me, would any other person want a man like me?”

His tone was humble, almost self-deprecating, yet his black leather shoes stepped slowly through the puddles of rainwater, inching closer to Tan Xueci step by step. It made the boy feel like there was nowhere left to hide.

Tan Xueci looked around frantically; there was no escape. His fingers instinctively gripped the seams of his pants.

He Xunye wasn’t walking fast, but he was nearly in front of him. A haze of gloom and a faint smile played on the ghost’s handsome face. He whispered, “Speak to me. Do you have nothing to say to your husband?”

Trembling with fear, Tan Xueci let out a silent internal scream and bolted. He kept looking back as he ran, terrified the ghost would suddenly manifest behind him. Fortunately, He Xunye remained where he was, standing in the shadows.

Tan Xueci hid behind a door, peeking out for a while. Seeing that He Xunye hadn’t followed, he finally exhaled.

So much for the ‘cold violence’ breakup. He hadn’t even started, and He Xunye had already sensed it. This ghost was incredibly dark and perceptive—and worse, he was relentlessly patient.

Tan Xueci felt like a lamb marked by a wolf. No matter how much he ran, falling into the trap seemed inevitable.

Wiping the cold sweat from his palms, his phone suddenly buzzed. He pulled it out and saw a message from Tan Shangli, causing his expression to freeze.

Tan Chongchuan was becoming increasingly convinced that He Xunye wasn’t dead. He had even lurked in the livestream for a long time. Tan Xueci and He Xunye looked… extremely intimate.

Tan Xueci wasn’t “normal.” He lacked the emotional processing abilities of a typical person; he would cry suddenly, and his hands would fidget restlessly.

Lu Qi had taken a gamble by bringing him on the show, but even with constant supervision, discordant voices were appearing online. No one suggested he had schizophrenia yet, but many comments under his Weibo posts suggested he might have autism and urged him to visit a hospital.

Lu Qi had access to the account and deleted these comments before Tan Xueci could see them.

Tan Chongchuan was inwardly shocked. His own family couldn’t stand Tan Xueci’s “crazy” behavior, yet He Xunye was incredibly patient.

When Tan Xueci was on the verge of tears without even realizing it, He Xunye would already have him in his arms, resting his chin on the boy’s head. Before the crying could even start, the boy would be soothed.

Tan Xueci often bit his fingers until they bled. He Xunye would hold his hands firmly—unless the boy got impatient and tried to squirm away, He Xunye wouldn’t let go.

Regardless of what the ghost was actually thinking, his behavior was tender. Tan Xueci had poor self-care skills, yet after living in the village for days, he hadn’t become disheveled. He remained clean and well-cared for.

Tan Chongchuan watched, mesmerized, until he realized he had been following the stream for three hours. The interface set off “fireworks,” notifying him that his viewer level had increased and awarding him a “Little Snowman” avatar.

“…”

With a dark expression, Tan Chongchuan closed the stream and sent a message to Tan Shangli: If they are getting along well, tell him to mention the family more often.

Tan Shangli knew his brother was on a variety show but hadn’t made a point of watching it until Tan Chongchuan sent him the link. When he clicked it, his gaze froze.

In the stream, Tan Xueci’s eyes were watery. He Xunye had just upset him with the lie about the child, and now the ghost was wiping away his tears.

Tan Xueci wasn’t truly heartbroken; before he had even finished crying, he was sniffing and starting to smile.

Tan Shangli felt a sense of daze. He hadn’t seen Tan Xueci smile like that in years.

As a child, Tan Xueci was lively, running around the house. Gao Ying used to joke that with “Little Gui” around, they didn’t even need a puppy; he could fill the house with energy all on his own.

Even in the first few years of his illness, he had been brave—not at all like he was now.

At that time, Tan Shangli had been adopted by the Tans for nearly a decade. He was cold and looked down on the idle rich, rarely associating with the “silver spoon” crowd. When the family was doing well, everyone praised him, but when the family business dipped, people began to bully him at school.

He was grateful to the Tans and didn’t want to worry his parents, so he never told them.

After Tan Xueci got sick, Mother Tan’s health declined, and Father Tan was busy with work and his wife. Tan Shangli, already in high school, was left to his own devices. No one noticed the bullying he faced.

Except for Tan Xueci. The little boy, who barely knew his ABCs, would rest his chin on his hands and stare at Tan Shangli’s crumpled, footprint-covered exam papers. Seeing his brother’s slumped shoulders and gloomy face, he would lean in and ask, “Brother, are you crying?”

Once, when no one went to his parent-teacher meeting, Tan Shangli planned to just take his papers and go home. Instead, he saw Tan Xueci at the school. The boy had snuck out.

Tan Xueci was pulling on the pant leg of a male student, demanding he crouch down.

The boy was so pretty that even an ill-tempered seventeen-year-old found it hard to refuse him. But as soon as the student crouched, Tan Xueci slapped him across the face.

Tan Shangli’s pupils shrunk. He was too far away to stop it before Tan Xueci was kicked away.

It turned into a huge mess, but because a sobbing Tan Xueci told the dean that his “brother was being bullied,” the school finally uncovered the harassment Tan Shangli had been enduring. Because he was a top student, the teachers took it seriously, and his final year of junior high became very peaceful.

That night, Tan Shangli took Tan Xueci home. The boy had been kicked; his clothes were disheveled, and there was a dark footprint on his shirt. He looked like a little stray.

He must have been in pain, but he was happy the whole way home. He held his brother’s hand and shyly peered into his backpack, asking what he learned at school.

Tan Shangli told him he wouldn’t understand. Tan Xueci wasn’t angry; he just said, “Because I’m a little illiterate, it’s enough for Brother to go to school.”

Tan Shangli took him to the hospital for a checkup and then carried him home on his back. Tan Xueci had been still at first, but couldn’t help kicking his legs, causing one of his sandals to fall off.

He curled his toes, not daring to speak, tears pitter-pattering down. He was afraid he’d be scolded for losing his shoe.

Fortunately, Tan Shangli heard the sound and picked it up. Tan Xueci’s soft chin rested on his brother’s shoulder. He reached out to hold the shoe himself, but his arms were short, so the little shoe was practically pressed against Tan Shangli’s face.

His feet didn’t smell, but the shoe was warm from his body heat. Tan Shangli spent the whole walk with the scent of his brother’s feet in his nose.

He had said nothing then, never realizing that would be the last time they would be alone together.

Shortly after, the Tans adopted Tan Yanning. Tan Xueci was sent to the hospital. When he returned six months later, he had lost a significant amount of weight. He stopped talking and would just sit with his head down, crying silently.

Tan Shangli took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Looking at Tan Xueci’s face in the stream felt like going back many years.

If only he hadn’t gotten sick. If only he wasn’t like a little monster, acting out all day.

He frowned as he watched He Xunye. He couldn’t read this man; his thoughts were too deep, and he seemed to have ill intentions. He didn’t believe He Xunye truly liked Tan Xueci, nor did he think he was the type to be kind to an intellectually impaired wife.

How could a person like that ever compare to family?

With Tan Chongchuan’s constant nagging, Tan Shangli remained silent for a minute before sending Tan Xueci a message.

[Tan Shangli: Are you still busy? Let’s meet up once you’re done filming this show.]

Tan Xueci looked at the message with a sullen face. He blocked the contact and didn’t reply.

Brother Lu says it costs money to interview me now. You’re not paying, so why should I see you?

Today’s recording had officially begun. Tan Xueci put away his phone and was about to find the other guests when he saw the Taoist, Yu He.

Yu He was looking in He Xunye’s direction with an air of “transcendence.” Flicking his whisk, he said, “Mr. Tan, he’s the one you asked my master to exorcise, isn’t he?”

“…” Tan Xueci’s face froze. He didn’t want to talk to him and tried to walk around.

“If a human stays with a ghost for too long, their Yang energy will be drained,” Yu He frowned, stepping back to block him. “Especially someone like you, who is already lacking in vital energy. It’s best to pull away before you’re trapped too deep.”

Tan Xueci’s heart hammered. He suddenly understood how Xu Xian felt being harassed by the monk Fa Hai.

“This Bagua mirror was passed down from my ancestors,” Yu He said, his face darkening at the boy’s resistance. He pulled out a bronze mirror. “No matter how powerful a ghost is, they will be forced to show their true form under this mirror. If you don’t believe me, I can show you right now what your ‘husband’ actually is.”

“You think his skin is handsome, but that’s just an illusion. No matter how they looked in life, after death, they are just a pile of rotten meat. Even if you don’t want to see it, the others have a right to know they are keeping company with a ghost.”

Tan Xueci had seen videos where a man married a demon wife, a Taoist came to exorcise her, and she turned back into her original form while everyone pointed and stared.

He bit his lip. He had heard that ghosts keep the appearance they had at the moment of death. He Xunye currently only had red eyes occasionally; that probably wasn’t his “true” state of death.

He Xunye was likely a very meticulous ghost. Even though Tan Xueci didn’t burn him nice clothes, the ghost often changed his own outfits. Whenever he appeared, he was dressed like a high-society gentleman, his leather shoes polished. Should I really let him become ugly and be pointed at by everyone?

The crime doesn’t fit the punishment.

These monks and Taoists must be mentally ill; they just love seeing others die like sewer rats on the ground.

Tan Xueci’s profile looked gloomy. He could catch He Xunye himself, but why should others get to humiliate his “thing”?

He didn’t want to defend the ghost, he just hated others treating him or his possessions like vermin.

“My husband is a person,” Tan Xueci said, looking startled. His eyes were red and his voice was soft. “He even wears Buddhist beads. Have you ever seen a ghost wear those? The one I want to catch is a different ghost.”

“He lived at Qilian Temple for seven or eight years,” Yu He sneered. “The ghostly aura on him grew heavier every year, attracting spirits. Those beads were given to him by the abbot. They’ve been with him for so long they’ve become ‘Yin’ objects; they aren’t truly Buddhist beads anymore.”

His logic was sound, and Tan Xueci had no reason not to believe him. But he stared at Yu He, slowly backed away, and then ran to find He Xunye.

He Xunye was talking to Zhang Chengfa.

Zhang didn’t trust the Taoist; he only trusted He Xunye. Seeing the ghost alone in the courtyard, he lit a cigarette and approached him hesitantly. “Mr. He, I actually had a dream last night that I didn’t dare tell the others.”

The ghost’s eyes were dark and aloof. He had been looking in Tan Xueci’s direction and only glanced at Zhang when he heard the footsteps.

“Last night, I dreamed I was standing under a crooked tree in the village,” Zhang said, his face grave. “It was pitch black. A voice kept saying to me: ‘Let’s go, let’s go.'”

Zhang was an achiever, and as a successful businessman, he had a certain mature charm. But his air of superiority vanished before He Xunye. He gave a bitter smile; He Xunye made him feel like he had found a pillar of support. If the ghost hadn’t been there, he would have called for a car to take him away as soon as things got weird last night.

He believed in these things—after all, with a net worth in the hundreds of millions, who would gamble their life on a variety show?

Seeing that He Xunye didn’t speak, Zhang added, “That person looked exactly like my mother.”

His parents were from Yanxia Village. After they married, his father went to Beijing to work, while he and his mother stayed in the village for another seven or eight years before joining him. His mother had passed away years ago and was buried in Beijing, so this was his first time back in his hometown in decades.

He Xunye shifted the black beads on his wrist and turned them slowly, ignoring him.

“This…” Zhang pleaded. “Mr. He, there will definitely be a reward. Could you at least say something? I’m truly a bit scared.”

He Xunye remained indifferent, his dark eyes staring him down.

Zhang felt a chill down his spine, but then had a sudden stroke of inspiration. He declared, “I’ll transfer three million to Teacher Tan’s card!”

He Xunye lowered his lashes and finally spoke a single sentence: “Do not play cat’s cradle with Xiao Cai.”

Zhang didn’t quite understand, but He Xunye had already turned and walked away.

Tan Xueci ran up to him, unaware he’d just “earned” three million. He told the ghost nervously, “You should leave quickly. That Taoist wants to catch you.”

He Xunye poked his tense, beautiful cheek. The ghost seemed to be in a good mood and gave a light laugh. “Xiao Xue is starting to worry about me. This is very good.”

Tan Xueci: “…”

Is he okay?

Tan Xueci felt exhausted; it was impossible to communicate with him. What does this have to do with ‘worrying’? He could only frown and advise, “That Taoist looks quite capable. What if you can’t beat him?”

“It doesn’t matter,” the ghost said calmly. “When a person dies, they become a ghost (Gui); when a ghost dies, they become a Ji; when a Ji dies, they become a Xi; when a Xi dies, they become a Yi… Although I would eventually be unheard, unseen, and formless, it just means I couldn’t speak to you anymore. It doesn’t mean I would cease to exist entirely.”

Tan Xueci didn’t understand a single word. He hated these “educated” people—writing books he couldn’t read and saying things he couldn’t understand, never thinking of his feelings.

But seeing that He Xunye didn’t care about the Taoist, Tan Xueci hesitated and said nothing more. If Yu Qingxu was that weak, his disciple is probably even worse.

There was a temple fair in the village tonight. They had been setting up since the day they arrived; it was reportedly the anniversary of a “General’s” death.

The fair was an annual event held jointly by the upper and lower villages in the middle ground between them. The whole village participated, making it as lively as the New Year. By 5 or 6 PM, it was crowded, and they would set up a stage for opera once it got dark.

Every household had to hang a pair of red and white lanterns outside. The guests’ task for today was to help hang the lanterns and prepare snacks for the fair.

Tan Xueci left He Xunye and went to hang lanterns with Chen Qing and the others. When they reached a house at the eastern end of the village, they were startled as the door opened and a cold wind blew through.

The man who opened the door was an old man with a large scar on his forehead that made it look like he had three eyes. He spoke with a heavy accent that Tan and Chen couldn’t quite understand, so they just hurried with their work.

“Xiao Ci,” Chen Qing said, holding the ladder for him. He whispered, “Did you see it?”

“Wh… what?” Tan Xueci jumped at the sudden voice, nearly dropping a lantern on Chen’s face.

Chen was thin and tall, his skin pale and his eyes shadowed from years of late-night writing. He whispered mysteriously, “The old man’s scar. If you look closely, you can see the shape of an eyelid. It probably really is an eye.”

“No way…” Tan Xueci said flatly.

“Probably a birth defect,” Chen said. “The eye only had a shape but couldn’t see, so they burned it with fire to seal the eyelid shut.”

Tan Xueci said nothing, finished hanging the lantern, and scrambled down the ladder.

“Haven’t you noticed?” Chen smiled fearfully, his face pale. “In this village, everyone is either intellectually disabled or deformed. Maybe they’ve been inbreeding for generations, producing a village of monsters.”

“Monsters,” Chen murmured. “What’s the point of such monsters being alive?”

He was acting a bit neurotic, perhaps still shaken by the ghost he’d seen eating raw rice the night before. Tan Xueci didn’t want to talk to him anymore, so he packed up and left.

They were busy all day, and evening soon approached. Tan Xueci had one more task: to go to Bo Shuizhang’s place and pick up the paper for Grandpa Zhang’s paper-cutting. The elders didn’t know how to use the internet, so Bo Shuizhang helped them buy things, and the villagers would pick them up themselves.

Tan Xueci ran back to Xiao Cai’s house, intending to find Lu Qi to drive him. He was sweating from the run. He Xunye beckoned him over, and Tan approached, looking confused. “Yeah?”

He Xunye’s long lashes were lowered. He pulled Tan into their room, reached into the boy’s hood, and used his palm to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

Tan didn’t have any skincare products of his own, so He Xunye had asked Xiao Cai for some “baby cream” and applied a bit to his face.

Tan waited for the cream to dry; it felt a bit sticky, and he couldn’t resist wanting to touch it.

He leaned against the window and looked out. The Taoist was polishing his sword. The sword seemed to emit a purple aura, making him inexplicably nervous.

The ghost followed his lead, resting his chin on Tan’s shoulder and wrapping his arms around the boy’s waist from behind, looking out with him as if he were equally nervous.

Tan didn’t think anything was wrong at first, until He Xunye suddenly gave a gentle thrust against the back of his legs. Tan whipped his head around, meeting the ghost’s close, smiling face.

“You…” Tan’s mind went blank for a few seconds. His ears turned bright red, and he nearly screamed. Instinctively, he drove his elbow into He Xunye’s stomach.

The ghost gave a muffled groan, his voice low and magnetic. Tan felt like he had hit solid muscle—unlike his frail appearance, He Xunye’s body was firm. The ghost’s phoenix eyes were glistening. He had a face that was both “dirty” yet purely masculine.

Tan stared at him, feeling a hint of jealousy. I was supposed to grow up looking like that too.

He felt He Xunye had died too young. Maybe he’d have a better future as a male model than in hell.

“Apologies,” the ghost said, as if only just realizing what had happened. His dark eyes curved into a lazy, punchable smile. He said apologetically, “We are husband and wife. Friction is inevitable when living together. Don’t mind it too much, okay?”

📚 Also on NHV Novels

Empress’s Pampering, I Secretly Hoarded Divine Weapons and Became Invincible

ComedyFantasyRomance

Read Now →
Not interested