Chapter 6: Chapter 6 warm quilt

The food vanished with remarkable speed, only to be expelled from the hungry ghost’s belly a short while later.

Yin Luan had a strong urge to admonish the entity about wasting food, yet she knew such a remonstrance would likely prove futile.

The concept of satiety was utterly foreign to the hungry ghost, so after it had finished its meal, the Snake Immortal slowly began to speak once more.

“You are aware that you are a ghost, aren’t you?”

The malevolent spirit remained seated, offering no reply.

“By all rights, having claimed so many lives, you ought to ascend a mountain of blades and plunge into a cauldron of boiling oil, perhaps even be coated in breadcrumbs and fried until golden brown on both sides,” Yin Luan remarked, a hint of dark humor in her tone. “However, you have already experienced death once, so further retribution holds little significance.”

“Now, you are presented with two options. The first is if you refuse to dissipate, I shall personally obliterate you. The second is to ascend to the heavens of your own accord.”

Drawing upon the knowledge within her mind, the Snake Immortal systematically elaborated.

“In truth, a frail spirit such as yourself is destined for dissipation the moment it begins to harm others. When you interact with humans, you inevitably absorb their vital Yang energy, and you possess no means to purge or neutralize it.”

Even without her intervention, the hungry ghost would eventually fade away as it absorbed more and more Yang energy; however, such a gradual dissolution would undoubtedly claim many more lives before its eventual demise.

Regardless of its intentions, it simply could not, and should not, be allowed to persist.

The lamp within the room continued to flicker erratically, casting an intermittent glow upon its half-sunken face.

“Everyone,” it queried, “will no one truly starve to death again?”

Within that singular query, there was neither evasion nor justification, merely an earnest inquiry.

Yin Luan turned her gaze to Xiao Cui, knowing that any questions concerning the village were hers to answer.

Having witnessed considerable events over the past few days, the young village girl took several deep breaths, gathering her resolve before meeting the hungry ghost’s gaze with profound sincerity.

“Yes, no one will ever starve to death again.”

The wind ceased.

The oil lamp’s flame stood unwavering, and at last, the light within the room settled into a steady glow.

Through Yin Luan’s serpentine eyes, the black smoke that embodied the malevolent spirit had considerably attenuated, appearing almost translucent.

It had not entirely dissipated, suggesting a lingering unease within the spirit.

“Very well then,” the Snake Immortal proposed, “tomorrow morning, you may come and observe for yourself.”

****

Long before dawn, the villagers of Qing Shan Village were already bustling with activity.

They were preparing a “Grand Ghost-Sending Feast,” a tangible demonstration that they were no longer suffering from hunger.

It was, in a way, a sorrowful truth that the village’s grain supply, originally barely sufficient to last until the next harvest, had suddenly become abundant due to the tragic loss of so many lives.

Wrapped in a thick blanket, the Snake Immortal sat beside the bonfire, her eyelids heavy with drowsiness.

For a snake, excessively low temperatures rendered her mind half-asleep, leaving her vulnerable and easily manipulated. ‘It’s so cold,’ she mused, ‘is this weather not incredibly unkind to a cold-blooded creature?’

“Snake Immortal.”

Xiao Cui approached her, calling out several times, but no answer came forth.

After a moment of hesitation, the young girl stepped closer, extending a hand to touch the Snake Immortal’s face, the only part visible from beneath the thick quilt.

Ice.

So incredibly cold.

It felt as though she were touching a block of ice.

She recalled the Snake Immortal mentioning that, unlike ordinary beings, she relied on external means to regulate her body temperature.

The young girl considered this earnestly, wondering if there was anything warm at hand…

Apparently, only a living person could suffice.

She gently placed both her hands upon the Snake Immortal’s face, and after a short while, Yin Luan slowly stirred awake.

“How wonderfully soothing…”

The hands of a village girl were, of course, far from delicate or smooth, and certainly could not compare to the Snake Immortal’s exquisitely tender skin. Yet, the warmth radiating from her palms was enough to infuse one’s heart with a comforting glow.

“Snake Immortal, if you wouldn’t mind…”

Seeing the positive effect, Xiao Cui, emboldened, spoke in a hushed tone.

“I don’t mind at all!”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Yin Luan parted the quilt halfway, inviting the young girl to slip inside.

The temperature within the quilt immediately soared, and the Snake Immortal instantly felt her vitality return.

‘Girls truly are the best…’

‘In her previous life, she had never encountered such a considerate girl to warm her bed. This adorable young lass made her want to give her a few affectionate nuzzles…’

In the village’s open common area, several long tables were laden with an array of foods, and in accordance with the customs of the Great Zhou Kingdom, tall bonfires blazed brightly.

Such celebrations were typically held during harvest season, but using this one to mark the end of winter and pray for abundant yields in the new year was entirely appropriate.

The terror inflicted by the hungry ghost had not entirely dissipated, and a faint tension still lingered on the villagers’ faces.

Yin Luan blinked, her vertical pupils observing how the black smoke, which had clung to everyone, was gradually fading away.

Her gaze then shifted to the house where the ghost had been ‘invited’ the previous night.

‘That creature had better be willing to ascend… otherwise, I’ll have no choice but to physically exorcise it (TL Note: A humorous term referring to forcibly eliminating a spiritual entity, often through physical means).’

Clang—Clang—Clang—

The village chief, holding a brass gong, struck it repeatedly, its clear, resonant sounds symbolizing bountiful harvests, thriving livestock, freedom from illness, and enduring peace and health in the year to come.

Though unseen by ordinary eyes, in Yin Luan’s vision, each resounding strike of the gong caused the lingering resentment within the house to lessen.

“Xiao Cui, do you have any firecrackers?”

Yin Luan inquired.

“Firecrackers?”

The young girl pondered, simultaneously craning her head slightly outward.

A peculiar fragrance, emanating from the Snake Immortal’s lips, seemed to tickle her very soul, much like drifting willow catkins. Moreover, she dared not examine the Snake Immortal’s face at such close proximity; it was simply too beautiful, and she feared she might instinctively make an impolite gesture.

“Are they those crackling, explosive things?” she asked. “We don’t have any in the village, but I’ve heard that the wealthy families in the city prepare some for the New Year.”

“Ghosts are highly sensitive to emotions,” Yin Luan explained. “A vibrant, positive emotional atmosphere acts as a deterrent to such malevolent spirits. If there are no firecrackers, then gongs and drums will suffice; a lively, boisterous environment will keep those foul entities at bay, won’t it? Ah, the sun has finally risen.”

The morning sun slowly emerged from behind the mountain peak, casting its first warm rays upon the land.

The villagers’ spirits, too, seemed to lift considerably.

‘It’s so warm now, surely winter must be over?’

“See?” the Snake Immortal stated. “No one is starving. Once the cold recedes, everyone will be able to harvest new grain.”

Xiao Cui’s body stiffened, and she cautiously glanced to her side.

‘There’s nothing here…’

‘Is the Snake Immortal communicating with that hungry ghost from last night? If it were to appear in broad daylight, surely it would cause widespread panic throughout the village?’

“Depart now. Do not cling to this land any longer, and cease your solitary wandering. You do not belong here.”

The Snake Immortal’s voice was not particularly loud, yet each word was remarkably clear, carrying an almost hypnotic power that seemed to imprint itself directly upon one’s consciousness.

She extended her right hand towards the rising sun and softly snapped her fingers.

Click.

“I… am… sorry…”

A voice, faint yet distinct, resonated in the ears of everyone present, almost simultaneously.

In the Snake Immortal’s keen vision, the spirit ascended to the rooftop, nodded towards the bonfire, and then, bathed in the morning light, transformed into a wisp of verdant smoke, rising gracefully into the sky.

“Not bad,” the Snake Immortal remarked, retracting her hand. “It didn’t devolve into a malevolent spirit. In its next life, may it remember to atone for its transgressions.”