Chapter 49: Punishment

Tan Xueci’s eyelashes fluttered, and the tips of his cold, white ears instantly flushed red. He couldn’t help but glare back in resentment; He Xunye’s tone was far too irritating. He knew for certain that He Xunye was tricking him, so he gripped the hem of his skirt tightly with both hands, terrified that the dead ghost would actually lift it up to “check.”

He Xunye looked at him, and just as he was about to say something more, the air outside the temple suddenly turned gusty with a bone-chilling wind. His brows furrowed slightly, and he reached under the altar to pull Tan Xueci out.

“Wu…” Tan Xueci was startled. He clung to He Xunye’s shoulder, his long hair cascading down as he let out a muffled whimper.

When He Xunye carried him out of the temple, Tan Xueci looked up and gasped in horror. The entire Yanxia Village had been engulfed by a thick, pitch-black ghostly aura. The pale moonlight struggled to pierce through the gaps, but it was eerie and dim, unable to illuminate the village paths at all.

This place had formed a Ghost Realm. Tan Xueci’s living soul was very fragile; he couldn’t force his way out.

Tan Xueci tried his best to recognize the path ahead, but before he could see clearly, He Xunye pressed the back of his head and tucked him into his embrace. He felt a wave of dizziness, and when he opened his eyes again, they were standing on a mountain cliff.

The male and female ghosts from earlier, along with the “White Evil” (the funeral procession ghost), were in hot pursuit. Their resentment soared into the sky like a pressing black cloud. The cold night wind was biting, and one could even hear the wailing and howling of ghosts in the air.

Tan Xueci turned his head. His long black hair fluttered and scattered in the wind, each strand seemingly dyed with the color of the moonlight. His eyes were naturally feminine and seductive, but his skin was so pale that it gave him a cold air, blending into a look that was both extremely frigid and strikingly beautiful.

“What do we do?” Tan Xueci let out a whimper, all his “coldness” vanishing instantly. He clutched He Xunye’s coat in fear, eyes brimming with tears, and said nervously, “Are we unable to escape?”

From any angle, it looked like they had been driven to a dead end by ghosts.

Even for the “Red-White Clash,” this ghostly aura was too powerful. The pressure made it difficult for Tan Xueci to even breathe.

A living person cannot be exposed to too much ghostly energy, or they will suffer misfortune. Of course, he was already naturally heavy with yin energy and was unlucky enough as it was; things couldn’t get much worse for him.

However, anyone else encountering this would likely fall ill if not die, and spending a year bedridden would be considered a lucky outcome.

Tan Xueci hugged He Xunye’s arm, whispering nervously to him, but received no response.

The malevolent spirit lowered his eyes. His eyelashes were actually very long, but they couldn’t hide the gloom in the depths of his gaze. He watched Tan Xueci’s moving lips with obsession, not hearing a word he said.

It wasn’t until Tan Xueci’s tears were about to fall that he finally put an arm around the boy’s shoulder. His deep voice carried a hint of raspiness as he said, “Baby, look over there.”

Tan Xueci followed He Xunye’s gaze blankly. The cliff they stood on was very high, offering a panoramic view of almost the entire Yanxia Village, including the ceaselessly flowing Yan River.

It had started raining, making the night feel particularly heavy. The entire village was shrouded in a misty downpour.

Perhaps it was because the surroundings were too dark, triggering the deepest fears in one’s heart, but after just a few glances, Tan Xueci felt a terrifying chill. His back felt cold, and goosebumps rose on his arms; he desperately wanted to crawl inside He Xunye’s coat and never come out.

His fingers were so cold they were stiff. He clumsily unbuttoned He Xunye’s suit jacket and buried himself inside without regard for anything else.

The malevolent spirit let out a low chuckle at the way he burrowed into his chest, then said: “In Feng Shui, there is a saying: ‘Mountains govern the people, and water governs the wealth.’ Baby, can you see what’s wrong here?”

The ghosts were about to catch up, and Tan Xueci was scared to death, yet He Xunye seemed not to care at all, talking to him about Feng Shui like he had some sort of teacher’s occupational disease.

Tan Xueci cursed He Xunye for being long-winded in his heart, but with his eyes full of tears and no other choice, he timidly looked down. Finally, he noticed the anomaly.

The entire Yanxia Village was surrounded by several mountains, and from this angle, the peaks of each mountain seemed to curve inward. The village looked like it was trapped under an overturned bowl.

Furthermore, the houses in the village all had black roofs and were perfectly square. The arrangement of the buildings was incredibly neat.

So neat, in fact, that they looked like rows of cinerary caskets (urns), with wreaths and paper offerings placed beside them.

“Hus… Husband…” Tan Xueci felt a chill surge from the soles of his feet. It felt as though he had been staying inside someone else’s grave for several days. He hugged He Xunye’s waist and didn’t dare let go, asking fearfully, “In… in this village, just how many ghosts are there?”

He called him “husband” again.

The malevolent spirit’s lips curved upward. He kissed his wife’s pale, frozen cheek and buried his face in his neck, his voice muffled: “I don’t know, baby. But there are more ghosts than people.”

Yu He’s talismans and tools were useless because, ever since entering this village, it was impossible to distinguish between the living and the dead. This place was so heavy with Yin energy that it was literally a living hell—the boundary between Yin and Yang had blurred.

“Stop right there!” The ghost groom finally caught up, followed by several pale-faced ghost sedan-carriers. Bloody tears streamed from his eyes as he stared venomously at He Xunye. “Leave my wife behind!”

The ghost bride surprisingly didn’t argue with him this time. Instead, she helped him corner Tan Xueci, as if they had reached an agreement—they even shared a sort of innate synergy.

Tan Xueci gripped He Xunye’s shirt, looking at the pair of ghosts in terror. His voice trembled, and he looked ready to cry: “Weren’t they just fighting? Why did they suddenly make up?”

They had completely forgotten their past grievances and were now standing together.

He Xunye’s brow furrowed. Hearing the ghost groom’s choice of words, a surge of ferocity welled up in his eyes. His gaze, previously like calm water, was now stormier than the rainy sky.

His palm pressed against Tan Xueci’s back. Tan Xueci was very thin, and his shoulders were narrow; he was easily and completely controlled by the spirit’s large hand.

The malevolent spirit looked at his wife, his tone gentle. “Darling, they are actually siblings.”

“Wh… what?” Tan Xueci’s eyes were misty with tears.

As he spoke, He Xunye paused and said softly, “Oops.”

Before Tan Xueci could react to what He Xunye meant, the female ghost’s blood-red nails almost caught his hair. He had never heard He Xunye use the word “oops” before, and he instantly became nervous. Is even He Xunye powerless?

He Xunye always maintained a calm and indifferent attitude toward everything, making Tan Xueci feel he was omnipotent. If he called him “husband,” He Xunye could get him anything he wanted.

If even He Xunye couldn’t handle it, he felt like his world was collapsing. But before he could ask, He Xunye had already grabbed his waist, pressed him into his embrace, and—without any warning or greeting—carried him as they leaped off the cliff.

For a moment, Tan Xueci’s heart stopped. His eyes widened into slits as the grip of death seized his breath.

In the thrill of fear and the sensation of falling, he clung to He Xunye for dear life, wrapping his arms and legs around the other. He didn’t know where he rubbed against, but the spirit suddenly let out a muffled groan.

The spirit’s eyes, usually jet-black and cold, seemed to flicker with dark flames. His voice was low and raspy as he patted Tan Xueci’s bottom and whispered tenderly in his ear: “Baby, squeeze a little tighter.”

Tan Xueci’s face was deathly pale. He wasn’t a pervert; he wasn’t going to think about “extra” things when he was about to die.

The cliff was so high it felt as if they could touch the moon. His vision was blurred by tears of terror, and it felt as if the moon was falling with them.

The spirit showed no fear of death; he even lifted a strand of his wife’s long hair to his lips and kissed it.

He raised his cold, fierce eyes to the ghosts still raging at the top of the cliff. He ground his teeth and whispered eerily into Tan Xueci’s ear: “Baby, they all really like you.”

Tan Xueci was so scared his vision was blurry. Who wants to be liked by ghosts? He desperately wanted to slap He Xunye.

“Does baby want to stay?” The spirit made a move as if to loosen his grip on Tan Xueci’s body. His crimson lips curled as he tempted him: “Why don’t you stay behind?”

Tan Xueci was scared out of his wits. His cowardice and fragility seemed to shatter, and his cold, beautiful eyes burned with a vivid resentment—a release of all the anger and hatred he felt toward this ghost-infested world, venting twelve years of accumulated bitterness without regard for anything.

He stared into the spirit’s naturally “affectionate” peach-blossom eyes and the inhuman smile in his gaze. With a grim face, he blurted out a curse: “Go to hell!”

As soon as he said it, Tan Xueci froze. His beautiful, lonely sheep-like eyes trembled. Meeting the smile on He Xunye’s lips, he didn’t know if he felt regret or confusion, but he was shrouded in a heavy emotion. His heart felt stifled and uncomfortable, as if he had even forgotten the fear of falling.

He hated the Tan family so much and disliked He Sui so much, yet he had never told them to go to hell to their faces—even if he had cursed them countless times in his heart. But He Xunye… actually hadn’t treated him badly.

Yet he had cursed He Xunye like this. He felt like a powerless bully who only dared to lose his temper with those who were good to him.

He Xunye was just a bit “bad,” but he was truly wicked.

“Sorry, I’m already dead. I’m afraid that wish can’t come true,” the smile on the spirit’s lips actually widened. He held Tan Xueci tighter and whispered, “Baby, your heart is beating so fast.”

He knew Tan Xueci certainly couldn’t bear to leave him. His baby still loved him most; otherwise, why didn’t he go with the other ghosts?

He buried his face in his wife’s hair and took a deep breath, murmuring, “So fragrant. Why is baby so fragrant?”

Tan Xueci had no idea why He Xunye was so happy. He suddenly felt that the “relationship experts” he used to watch might be frauds. What exactly is so good about older men?

He only felt the generation gap—a sense of powerlessness common in “old husband, young wife” dynamics.

The spirit lowered his head to sniff his wife’s face, his high nose bridge pressing into the soft flesh of Tan Xueci’s cheek. He kept nuzzling him, saying, “Baby’s face is fragrant, and his mouth is fragrant too.”

His eyes had turned scarlet. It was too fragrant; Tan Xueci was constantly tempting him.

Tan Xueci had been repenting just a moment ago, but now he wanted to curse again. However, before he could open his mouth, the spirit grabbed his chin and fiercely blocked his lips, stuffing all his curses back into his throat.

“Mmph…” Tan Xueci’s mouth was forced open, and the spirit’s cold, slippery tongue thrust in without mercy.

The spirit tangled with his tongue, licking and sucking. Tan Xueci’s cold, white cheeks suddenly turned deep red. He was a lamb born pure and ignorant of the world—a sheet of white paper more flawless than anyone else’s—yet he was being toyed with by a ghost, stained with colors that shouldn’t belong to him.

When He Xunye had “helped” him that day, he had also licked first and then sucked. The spirit’s tongue was too cold; aside from the chill, Tan Xueci felt nothing and gave no reaction.

But the spirit seemed determined to see him collapse under the weight of desire. He tormented him until Tan Xueci went limp and spit out a bit of fluid into his own cold mouth before finally letting him go.

“You… wu…” After the entangled kiss, Tan Xueci’s lips were numb, swollen, and stinging. His eyes reflected the misty moonlight as he said unclearly, “Wh… Why…”

Why must you always cling to me?

It’s as if you won’t stop until we are both destroyed.

The spirit didn’t answer. Tan Xueci’s vision grew blurrier and blurrier until he couldn’t even see the moonlight. He felt his body grow both heavy and weightless at the same time, and then he suddenly fell.

“He’s awake!”

Lu Qi looked like an anxious father waiting outside a delivery room. Seeing that the “child” had finally come out, he let out a long sigh of relief and hurriedly asked, “How is it? Do you feel unwell anywhere?”

Tan Xueci had been lying on the k’ang bed. His hair had lengthened without warning, hanging down like soft black silk.

Just as everyone around was at a loss, Tan Xueci suddenly sat up, drenched in cold sweat.

Tan Xueci was dazed for a while before he finally heard Lu Qi calling him. Then he saw several familiar faces surrounding him. He opened his mouth, but the sound of the wind still seemed to whistle in his ears; the terror of falling off the cliff hadn’t vanished from his bones. He felt a suffocating sensation as if he were on the verge of death, preventing him from making a sound.

He instinctively looked around and realized that He Xunye wasn’t there.

“Stop looking,” He Sui had also been keeping watch. Seeing Tan Xueci look around as soon as he opened his eyes, a surge of jealousy welled up in his heart. He gave a cold laugh and said snidely, “He said he was going to find you, but he hasn’t come back. Who knows which mountain gully he died in.”

He felt that He Xunye was just an empty name—he was already dead anyway. If the He family was handed to such a person, it would be their downfall.

But Tan Xueci ignored his sarcasm. His face bore an expression vastly different from usual. His long black hair was loose, covering half his body. He already had a cold and beautiful look, and his pale, thin jawline added an extra layer of frostiness.

The mountain village was very dark at night. Even with the lights on, it couldn’t mask the deep darkness outside. Tan Xueci’s face darkened, his skin appearing deathly white against the night, with only his red lips providing color. He looked at He Sui with a cold, gloomy frown.

He Sui’s voice cut off abruptly. Meeting Tan Xueci’s dark, cold, yet breathtakingly beautiful face, he actually found himself unable to speak. It was as if he had been slapped by a gaze—it was painful… yet fragrant.

Tan Xueci didn’t speak to He Sui. While the others were crowding around Tan Xueci with questions, Jin Chen ran in from outside.

“Crap,” Jin Chen cursed when he saw the cameras weren’t on. “I’m freezing. Why didn’t any of you show up?”

Are you playing me for a fool?

They had agreed to visit the temple fair together at night. He had waited at the fair for over an hour, but no one came to find him. He sent messages to the program crew, but no one replied. Since he didn’t have a car, he had to run back along the chilly dirt roads of the village.

The others were dumbfounded. They had been so busy that they completely forgot about Jin Chen. No wonder it felt like someone was missing.

Chen Qing said with a complex expression, “Xiao Jin, didn’t you encounter anything strange tonight?”

“No,” Jin Chen shook the rainwater off his body, his straight-man face full of confusion. “What strange things?”

He recalled: “I just went to the temple fair. The opera had already started. The people below were sitting neatly in several rows, and there were many carrying lanterns—all dressed in red.”

“An old woman in red waved at me, so I went over. She asked where I was from, and I said Beijing. Then she asked if I knew her son. I said I didn’t know; I didn’t even know her son’s name.”

“The villagers were quite hospitable. They insisted on giving me a mask and wanted me to go on stage to sing. Before I could take it, the old woman suddenly got upset. With a dark face, she told me to leave, so I came back to find you guys. Is there something wrong?”

The other guests: “…”

Is there anything that ISN’T wrong?

Seeing that everyone had fallen silent, Jin Chen picked up a towel to dry his hair and asked, puzzled, “Wh… What’s wrong?”

“She called you,” Qin Shuyao facepalmed, “and you just went over?”

That was clearly a ghost.

“I didn’t know,” Jin Chen didn’t see the problem and said bluntly, “She kept calling me.”

Come home, child.

Everyone else in the crew, including Tan Xueci, turned their heads to look at Jin Chen like he was an idiot.

Even the director shook his head and sighed. No one paid Jin Chen any more attention. The director walked over to Tan Xueci and asked, “Teacher Tan, have you sent a message to Mr. He?”

Tan Xueci’s face fell. He had never seen that dead ghost use a phone; how was he supposed to send a message?

The village felt “unclean,” and the others didn’t dare go out. The director told a few staff members to go look for He Xunye, but as soon as they stepped out, they said they saw an old woman burning spirit money at the crossroads. They were so scared they scurried back, and no one dared try again.

Only then did Jin Chen realize something was wrong. He peeked out the door and quickly shrank back, rubbing his arms. His scalp tingled as he said, “Holy crap, that’s the ‘Terror Granny’ from tonight.”

The “Terror Granny” was burning paper incessantly at their doorstep. No one dared go out; they could only wait for He Xunye to return on his own.

Tan Xueci held his own long hair, kneeling on the k’ang bed, not knowing what to do. Qin Shuyao used her own hair tie to loosely tie it into a ponytail that hung over his chest.

The other guests wanted to ask Tan Xueci what had happened, but he seemed a bit wilted and unwell, so they didn’t press him further and let him rest early.

Tan Xueci put on his white down jacket and pulled up the collar, revealing only a pair of large, dark eyes. Carrying the small lantern He Sui had given him, he peeked out the door.

He had always distinguished things clearly: the person was bad, but the object was good. He Sui was bad, but the lantern was good, so he couldn’t bear to throw it away.

He Sui was about to go to sleep, but when he saw Tan Xueci carrying the lantern he had given him and running to the door to wait for He Xunye, his footsteps stopped involuntarily. His throat felt dry.

How could Tan Xueci treat him like this?

They had grown up together; didn’t Tan Xueci like him most? He had even said he wanted to marry him.

Why was he married to someone else now, carrying the lantern he gave him, waiting for that man—who very likely wasn’t even human?

In what way was he inferior to He Xunye?

Why treat him this way?

For a moment, He Sui even felt that if Tan Xueci could turn back now, carrying the little lantern and running toward him with a smile like before, he wouldn’t even want Tan Yanning anymore.

That’s right, why would he want Tan Yanning? Tan Yanning’s heart was full of inheritance and schemes; he would never smile at him.

But Tan Xueci had always been the most “wicked” and cold-hearted. He never forgave anyone. In his world, there was no repentance or apology, no “returning to the right path,” and no middle ground.

He hadn’t been to school, didn’t know many people, and didn’t understand human nature. He only cared about his own happiness, so he was as clear-cut in his loves and hates as a little wild monkey that couldn’t integrate into human society.

Tan Xueci waited for a while, his heart uneasy. He didn’t know what He Xunye meant by “oops.” They had clearly jumped together; why hadn’t he come back?

He and He Xunye hadn’t become a “real” couple yet, but somehow they shared a commonality with that pair of ghost siblings: domestic conflicts are internal, but if something happens, they present a united front against the outside world.

Because they were a couple, sharing a common home.

He could fight with He Xunye—that was their own business—but He Xunye couldn’t be bullied by other ghosts outside. If those ghosts ate He Xunye, he would go and kill them.

Tan Xueci felt a bit tired after standing for a while, so he squatted down to wait. Propping his chin up, he began to doubt: it was so dark outside, could He Xunye be afraid of the dark and thus not dare to come back alone?

But He Xunye usually came out at night.

Tan Xueci cursed He Xunye for being a coward. He originally wanted to go out and light the lanterns at Xiao Cai’s doorstep so He Xunye might see them, but as soon as he stepped out, the Terror Granny suddenly looked up at him, scaring him so much he scurried back instantly.

Tan Xueci walked back into the room dejectedly. He felt that Xiao Cai’s family might not be living people either. Despite the chaos tonight, Xiao Cai’s family had turned off the lights and gone to bed promptly at ten o’clock.

Their room was silent as death. Tan Xueci thought of the “urn-like” houses he had seen from the cliff and felt unwell. He quickly ran back into his room to hide.

In this room, his clothes, small backpack, and lamb plushie were on the k’ang. He Xunye’s spirit tablet was on the table, and the black umbrella He Xunye had brought was in the corner. It inexplicably made him feel at peace, like their own little home.

He lit several candles and placed them one by one in front of the tablet. The whole room grew brighter, and the small flames of the candles were reflected in his eyes, making them shine.

With a somber face, he leaned on the table to wait. A bit of his soft cheek was squeezed out. Suddenly, he found He Xunye’s spirit tablet annoying to look at, so he gave it a sharp punch.

He Xunye’s spirit tablet was very heavy, seemingly weighing dozens of pounds; it usually couldn’t be moved easily. He thought at most his hand would hurt, but the tablet fell over as if it were a scammer faking an injury.

Tan Xueci almost had a heart attack from the shock. It was so sudden that he didn’t even think to catch it, watching helplessly as the tablet tumbled.

Just as the tablet fell, the door creaked open. The timing was impeccable. He Xunye walked in, rainwater on the shoulders of his black overcoat. A faint hint of blood-red could be seen in the depths of his dark eyes.

Tan Xueci fiddled with his fingers, looking at He Xunye with a piteous expression. He murmured, “Hus… Husband…”

The malevolent spirit’s gaze paused. The stove in this room was burning hot. Tan Xueci was wearing the white silk nightgown he had brought from home.

He was naive and lacked any sense of caution. The nightgown was all rumpled, the buttons were fastened incorrectly, and his snowy-white, plump thighs were exposed. His long hair shrouded his upper body.

The cold expression on the youth’s face had faded, and his eyes darted around as if he were hiding some mischievous scheme, making him look both pure and sensual.

The spirit’s eyes turned dark. He walked over, hugged the boy from behind, and looked at the table full of candles. His gaze and tone became uncontrollably gentler. Cupping the boy’s small face, he kissed the tip of his nose, his deep voice carrying a smile: “Why is baby so good today? Were you waiting for husband to come home?”

There was a temple fair tonight, but the entire Yanxia Village had still plunged into darkness at ten o’clock. The other guests were already asleep. When he returned, the entire mountain village was dead silent; only Tan Xueci’s room was lit with candles. In the dark mountain basin, it was impossible to miss.

Warmth, brightness—dispersing the darkness and the continuous rain, guiding the late-returning soul back home.

“Baby is so good,” the spirit chuckled softly against him, his chest vibrating. The laughter made Tan Xueci’s cold ears turn red. His dark peach-blossom eyes and lips were curved in a smile as he coaxed: “Should I give baby a reward?”

Tan Xueci assumed He Xunye was going to spend money to buy him something nice. He didn’t even care that He Xunye’s hand was kneading his bottom, and he was about to nod.

However, before he could nod, the spirit’s gaze moved from his wife’s face to the fallen spirit tablet. With feigned surprise, the ghost’s cold lips opened and said: “You pushed it.”

Tan Xueci was startled. He was like he was made of water; tears instantly flooded his small face. He said innocently and piteously: “I didn’t know. How did it fall?”

He didn’t realize that He Xunye wasn’t asking a question, but was directly pronouncing him guilty.

“Then I must punish you first.” The spirit tenderly wiped away the tears from the corner of Tan Xueci’s eyes, but his tone brooked no argument.

Tan Xueci never expected that he would be punished before getting his reward. He whimpered, trying to bluff his way out, but meeting He Xunye’s eyes, he swallowed nervously.

He Xunye’s eyes had turned a dark red, and since the moment he entered, Tan Xueci had felt a pressure far more terrifying than before. The ghostly aura on He Xunye’s body had grown stronger.

Did he swallow those other ghosts?

“Don’t be afraid,” the spirit kissed his lips and turned him around, making him lean over the edge of the table. He coaxed: “Baby, hold on tight.”

Tan Xueci didn’t know what He Xunye wanted to do. With his back to him, he couldn’t see He Xunye’s expression. He instantly became nervous and couldn’t help but struggle. The ponytail Qin Shuyao had tied for him came undone, and his long black hair meandered across his thin back.

His upper body was pressed against the table, his chest touching the cold surface. The nightgown was too soft; when he leaned down like this, the curve of his waist was perfectly outlined—he might as well have been wearing nothing at all.

Tan Xueci’s toes couldn’t quite reach the ground, so he scuffed them randomly against He Xunye’s black, cold leather shoes. His snowy-white toes were clenched tight, and his eyes were piteously red. He tried to call for help, but before he could open his mouth, he felt a chill below. His pupils dilated suddenly.

His skirt… his skirt had been lifted.

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