Chapter 60: The White-Haired Ghost

Tan Xueci’s breath was trembling. The entity was so close that it could almost reach out and touch him. Its body felt as though the skin had only recently been peeled away, carrying a moist, hot, and metallic stench of blood.

“Wheeze… wheeze…”

The thing hunched its back as if in great pain. It managed to push itself up slightly, allowing Tan Xueci to see that it appeared to be quite young.

However, the ground beneath its feet was covered in sticky blood, making its movements sluggish and heavy—which was why Tan Xueci had initially mistaken it for an elderly person.

Even the whites of its eyes were seeping blood, turning a bruised, murky red. It stared fixedly at Tan Xueci, its voice rasping as it spoke, “My skin is gone… can you give me yours?”

Tan Xueci spun around and bolted. Before the blood-soaked hand could grab him, he had already sprinted several meters away.

He couldn’t help but curse inwardly, wondering where that “dead thing” He Xunye had disappeared to. In his heart, he unilaterally sentenced He Xunye to life imprisonment without a wife.

The restroom was very close to Jin Chen’s ward, but Tan Xueci ran for several minutes without seeing any sign of it.

Moreover, the hospital’s layout felt increasingly bizarre, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on what was wrong and didn’t have the luxury of time to think.

The skinless ghost seemed to be in excruciating pain, collapsing to the floor and letting out agonized cries, yet it refused to let him go, crawling persistently after him.

The hospital corridor’s floor looked like something out of a horror movie, covered in winding, squirming bloodstains that moved like living creatures.

Tan Xueci could only keep running. As he ran, it suddenly dawned on him… this hospital seemed to be mirrored. He remembered the information desk being on his left, but now it was on his right, creating a jarring sense of wrongness.

Winter had arrived, and outside the hospital, the first snow of the year began to flutter down. Tan Xueci had no time to admire it.

He didn’t dare go downstairs—who knew if there were even more terrifying things lurking below? Nor did he dare hide in a random spot.

Based on his decade-plus experience of encountering ghosts, if you can run toward an open exit, you should never hide in a confined space.

Once, he had hidden in a cabinet and waited for a long time. Hearing nothing outside, he thought the ghost had left. Just as he cautiously pushed open the door to leave, he felt a dampness on his shoulder.

He turned his head only to find the ghost had been standing behind him for who knows how long, the dripping water from its black hair soaking his clothes. He had been sick for days after that scare.

Tan Xueci unknowingly ran to the door of the hospital’s changing room. Just as he was debating which way to go, a ghostly hand reached out silently from behind him.

The hand’s skin was cold and white like jade, with long fingers and a broad palm. For a man’s hand, it was a work of art—except for the ugly detail that the fingernails had been torn off, leaving them a bloody, mangled mess, radiating a bone-chilling ghostly cold.

It covered Tan Xueci’s entire lower face. Before he could react, he was dragged into the changing room. The movement was rough; Tan Xueci’s sweatshirt was pulled askew, revealing a sliver of snowy-white, slender waist.

Tan Xueci was startled, his vision blurred by tears. He couldn’t see clearly, but he could feel his waist being shamelessly appraised by the other party. His narrow lower abdomen tensed instantly, curving into a soft arc.

His limbs felt weak as he was dragged into a cramped stall within the changing room. The other’s cold, hard finger bones were still pressed against his face, preventing him from even making a sound.

Tan Xueci didn’t dare move recklessly because the skinless ghost seemed to have followed them into the changing room.

His eyelashes were soaked as he breathed suppressedly against the palm of the hand. Through the thin door of the stall, he could hear the sound of the ghost’s sticky, bloody muscles dragging across the floor.

It wasn’t until his fear-numbed brain regained some clarity that he realized the cold aura behind him felt very familiar. He made small “mm-mm” noises against the palm.

Hubby?

The entity didn’t respond at first. Its hand was massive, nearly large enough to cover his entire face, and it began to stroke his skin. Being held like this created an overwhelming sense of dominance, causing the tips of Tan Xueci’s pale ears to turn hot.

He was completely powerless to resist. Every inch of his skin was being wantonly touched by that large hand; his soft flesh sank into the gaps between the fingers, and he could only breathe with difficulty through the spaces.

Tan Xueci used to think the most excessive thing was being “bent over,” but as he gradually learned more about “adult matters,” he realized that kisses, touches, breaths, and gazes… many things were no less intense than s*x.

Just like now, the thing behind him hadn’t actually done anything besides touch his face, but his waist had already gone soft. He wanted to hide, yet he couldn’t stop himself from leaning back into the other’s embrace.

His clothes were still perfectly intact, but they were the least important thing; psychologically, he had been completely occupied.

“Little Lamb,” the dark shadow behind him finally spoke, its voice a low, blurry mumble. Its cold breath brushed against his ear as it bit his earlobe and said, “Not Hubby. It’s ‘Brother’.”

“…”

Tan Xueci was momentarily stunned. His brother was dead… and besides, his brother wouldn’t reach out to hook his fingers into his waistband and try to pull it down.

Slap your father! He certainly didn’t have a brother like this.

Logically, ghosts didn’t need to breathe, but this “dead thing” always liked to make noise in his ear. Especially after realizing Tan Xueci was reluctant to make a sound, he seemed to be trying to coax a noise out of him, breathing shallowly or heavily against his ear.

When Tan Xueci reached out to hook his arms around the other’s neck, he could feel the powerful muscles of the entity’s shoulders and back.

If he could just cast aside his shame and go “crazy” along with the other, he might actually enjoy it. But that was hard to do.

Stop seducing me.

Tan Xueci felt he was going crazy too. There was a ghost outside, and yet here he was thinking about nonsense. He grabbed the other’s ice-cold hand, wanting to pry it away.

He had been too scared earlier, his eyes blurred by tears, so he hadn’t seen the hand clearly. Now that he touched it, he realized it was wet—it seemed to be blood. Moreover, the flesh at the fingertips was uneven. He froze, grabbing the hand and looking down.

However, the other party kept his lower face firmly covered, refusing to let go, just as more noise came from outside.

The stall door wasn’t tightly shut, leaving a very narrow gap. Tan Xueci peeked through the slit, but his mind instantly went blank, and cold sweat poured down his spine.

It wasn’t the previous ghost. Another one had arrived.

It was hard to describe; he had never seen a ghost like this. It was enormous, its head almost touching the ceiling. It was hunched over like an ape with a thick, powerful build and massive arms. Its entire body was covered in long, snowy-white hair, obscuring its face.

The white hair floated in wisps like smoke or fog, drifting into his nostrils.

Before Tan Xueci could react, the hand covering his face moved up slightly. This time, the cold, broad palm completely covered his entire face, obscuring his eyes as well.

Just as Tan Xueci tried to struggle, another pair of hands appeared from somewhere and covered his ears. All seven of his orifices were now tightly blocked.

This hospital was quite old, and the changing room stalls were far too small. Fitting one person was a squeeze, let alone the entity behind him who seemed particularly tall and broad. They had to press together without a single gap just to stay within the stall.

Tan Xueci pried at the other’s fingers with force, his nails nearly sinking into the flesh. In the struggle, he stumbled backward. The other party didn’t catch their balance, falling back onto the narrow bench, and Tan Xueci sat right down onto their lap.

The other party seemed to freeze for a second. Tan Xueci was also stunned, his cheeks rapidly flooding with red. But he couldn’t break free; his body had lost all strength, leaving him pinned to the other’s lap.

“Brother has answered,” the entity kissed the back of his neck and seemed to let out a laugh. Its voice was conversational, yet for some reason, it sounded incredibly annoying. “Baby, do you want to touch?”

Tan Xueci: “…”

I’ll touch your whole family.

Outside the stall, the white-haired ghost was still pacing around. In a horror movie, it would be a very dedicated ghost—even though no one was watching its performance, it continued to move about.

It was entirely unaware of how indecent the “person” and ghost were behind the door.

Time felt stretched. When the white-haired ghost finally left and Tan Xueci stumbled out of the stall, his face was flushed red. He turned back toward the shadow in anger.

For the first time, he saw the entity’s appearance clearly. It was just a mass of human-shaped black mist with blood-soaked hands. He could faintly see crimson lips, but everything else was hidden in the fog as if a complete body wasn’t fit to be seen by the living.

“Sorry,” the entity’s ghostly, red lips curved into a smile. Tan Xueci couldn’t see its eyes, but he felt it was staring at his hands. Then, without a hint of sincerity, it said, “I made you dirty. Wait for your Hubby to come and wipe you clean.”

Tan Xueci watched as the entity vanished. He held up his hands, not knowing where to wipe them, terrified that someone would suddenly walk in.

Just as he was debating whether to just wipe them on the inside of his sweatshirt, the door to the changing room was suddenly opened.

“Little Lamb?” He Xunye stood outside, appearing to have rushed over. Seeing him, the darkness in his pitch-black eyes finally softened.

Ghosts are best at lying and deceiving—hence the saying “bewitched by ghosts.” Yet, there was no trace of a lie on He Xunye’s face, which made Tan Xueci feel dizzy with confusion again.

Was it really not He Xunye? But He Xunye never seemed to mind when that “other thing” touched him.

Who knows? Even though He Xunye constantly preached about traditional virtues like a “feudal virtuous wife,” Tan Xueci hadn’t forgotten that He Xunye was the one who had sent a car full of people to the hospital.

Perhaps He Xunye simply didn’t care that much about those things.

He Xunye walked toward him, took his hand, and wiped it clean. He didn’t ask what happened, but he leaned down to kiss his mouth and the tip of his nose. When he tried to kiss him again, Tan Xueci pushed him away. Tan Xueci pursed his lips, gave him a look, and walked out without a word.

Lu Qi had no idea what had happened; it felt as if Tan Xueci had gone out and suddenly become unhappy, his small face drooping.

While they discussed the script, He Xunye bought a small cake for Tan Xueci. Tan Xueci said he didn’t want it, but of course, he ended up eating it, not saying a word as he did.

Lu Qi made faces at Jin Chen, asking with his eyes what was going on. Jin Chen’s face collapsed instantly, as if he had been greatly insulted.

How should he know what was up with those “dead gays”?

Don’t compare him to “filthy things.”

Lu Qi: “…”

Lu Qi wished for nothing more than for Tan Xueci to divorce He Xunye immediately, so he naturally wouldn’t try to mediate. He focused on explaining the script to Tan Xueci, intentionally pulling the script toward his side every few minutes.

Unconsciously, Tan Xueci moved closer and closer to him, drifting away from He Xunye.

The evil ghost’s expression turned cold, and the corners of his mouth flattened.

Lu Qi was feeling triumphant, thinking no one had noticed. He picked up a fork to eat an apple, only to find he couldn’t put the fork down. A cold sweat broke out as he watched in terror as his own hands raised the fork to stab his own throat.

With that amount of force, it would pierce straight through his neck; blood would probably spray like a fountain.

Jin Chen was asleep, and Tan Xueci was looking down at the script. Lu Qi, his face deathly pale, met the evil ghost’s dark, smiling eyes.

Lu Qi had never realized so clearly that no matter how much they joked about him being a “dead guy,” the other was a genuine evil ghost, burdened with resentment and capable of killing without hesitation.

His eyes began to redden with fear when Tan Xueci suddenly tugged at his clothes. Tan Xueci still didn’t look up, only asking how to read a line in the script.

Lu Qi thought the ghost would get even angrier and stab him to death, but to his surprise, the malevolent pressure on his hand gradually vanished. The entity took Tan Xueci’s hand and wiped away a smudge of ink he had accidentally gotten on it.

The movie Spider was primarily about the turbulent factional struggles of the Great Yan Dynasty. Tan Xueci was playing the third male lead, Yan Chengzhang. In reality, it was a dual role; he would play both Yan Chengzhang and his younger brother, Yan Chengzhao—a pair of twins.

At that time, the State of Yan and the State of Yue signed an agreement requiring Yan to send a prince to Yue as a hostage.

Yan Chengzhao was originally chosen, but he faked an illness. Pitying his brother, Yan Chengzhang impersonated him and went to the desolate, bitter cold of Yue as a hostage for thirteen years.

When he finally returned to Yan, he found that Yan Chengzhao was not faring well, being marginalized by the other princes.

Yan Chengzhao repeatedly feigned weakness to manipulate his older brother, until Yan Chengzhang gradually became completely disappointed in him.

There was only one spider silk thread to escape hell, and everyone wanted to climb up, terrified of not climbing high enough or being pulled down by someone else back into the boundless sea of suffering. Thus, they constantly harmed others, stepping on them to climb higher.

The script was actually a bit complex for Tan Xueci, but the production team had seen his performance in Entangled and decided on him immediately, subsequently contacting Lu Qi.

Lu Qi felt he couldn’t pass up this opportunity. The director was Fang Zongjing! As long as he didn’t act too poorly, once the movie was released, Tan Xueci’s future would be so bright it kept Lu Qi awake at night.

Fortunately, Tan Xueci had a good memory and wasn’t actually stupid; he could understand with a bit of explanation.

Tan Xueci let his hand be taken and wiped. Out of habit, he initially offered his hand, but as soon as He Xunye finished wiping it, he suddenly stiffened, remembering he was supposed to be angry.

But what did he have to be angry about?

What did He Xunye sending a car of people to the hospital have to do with him?

Relationship experts say the biggest taboo in marriage is bringing up the past. If you want a divorce, just keep mentioning your ex—you’ll definitely be divorced within three months.

Tan Xueci withdrew his hand and remained silent, head down.

He didn’t know who He Xunye had dated before. Regardless, whoever it was, they were surely better than him—at least they had gone to school, wouldn’t always slap him, and didn’t start trouble every day.

Thinking this, he wondered if there was a moment where He Xunye felt he wasn’t as good as the boyfriends he had when he was alive.

Then again, if He Xunye were still alive, they certainly wouldn’t be together; they wouldn’t even have had the chance to meet.

Lu Qi had just escaped death. If he were braver, he would have stood up and told Tan Xueci not to associate with a heartless evil spirit. But he was a coward. After hesitating for a long time, he meekly pushed the script back toward Tan Xueci.

“Let’s leave it at that for now,” Lu Qi said, having finally finished the explanation. “The audition is in three days. I’ll come pick you up.”

Fang Zongjing had already decided on Tan Xueci for the third lead; this “audition” was mostly just a formality. However, if the audition went poorly, there was still a possibility of being replaced.

Tan Xueci agreed and left the hospital with He Xunye. Lu Qi went downstairs to see them off.

It was already after 8:00 PM when they reached the first floor. They saw Xiao An again at the hospital entrance.

Standing next to Xiao An was a young man, thin and pale with delicate features, looking about the same age as Tan Xueci.

“That seems to be a minor star Xiao An is keeping,” Lu Qi whispered to Tan Xueci. “It’s been over half a year.”

The young man was following Xiao An, looking worried and asking about the injury on Xiao An’s head. After being impatiently snapped at by Xiao An, he paled and moved a bit further away.

Tan Xueci lowered his eyelashes and stopped looking at them. If what Xiao An and that boy had was called “being kept,” then what he and He Sui had back then probably didn’t even count as that.

And what did he and He Xunye count as?

He Xunye had said he wanted to date him before, but it didn’t seem serious; he never brought it up again. They were married, yes, but it was a “ghost marriage.”

They had done everything they should and shouldn’t do, yet in the end, it seemed there was still no real relationship.

Tan Xueci was certain he didn’t want to spend his life with a ghost, yet seeing others having relationships with He Xunye made him… jealous. He had done so much with He Xunye, yet they still had no formal bond.

If only he were the first person He Xunye had ever held or kissed. If only he were a bit older.

He’s clearly my Hubby.

Tan Xueci walked forward with his head down, forgetting they had driven there. From time to time, he raised a hand to wipe his eyes, his other hand hanging cold by his side until it was suddenly held by a warm palm.

He Xunye had lit a talisman and then took Tan Xueci’s hand. When he was alive, his five senses had been lost for a long time; the seasons made no difference to him. Since dying, seeing this snow made him pause—today was apparently “Minor Snow” (the solar term).

“Today is Minor Snow,” He Xunye said, cupping Tan Xueci’s cold little hands and rubbing them. His movements were very gentle, a completely different demeanor from the changing room. He asked, “Why is the Little Lamb unhappy on Minor Snow?”

Tan Xueci’s eyes were red, tears clinging to his eyelids. He said slurredly, “I hate you. Why can’t you all just date one person?”

He Xunye didn’t understand exactly what he meant, but he caught the “you all”—likely referring to him and He Sui. His brow quirked; he wasn’t satisfied with this evaluation. He said, “Don’t compare me to that kind of man who lacks self-respect, alright?”

He had seen He Sui’s social media accounts, posting those scandalous photos exposing his chest—truly lacking in propriety.

“Moreover,” He Xunye’s long, dark peach-blossom eyes looked down. He seemed to realize why Tan Xueci was unhappy and let out a low laugh. He knew Tan Xueci was angry and that a kiss might earn him a slap, but he couldn’t resist leaning down to kiss his wife’s ear. He said lazily, “You seem to have a misunderstanding of me.”

Tan Xueci looked up. His nose was slightly red from the cold. There weren’t many people out at night, and the snow landing on his eyelashes made them look fuzzy, stubborn, and beautiful.

“For a man like me who rarely stepped out of the house,” He Xunye’s dark eyes curved, his tone roguish and annoying, “marriage was naturally a matter of parental command and a matchmaker’s word. You are my first ‘man’.”

Tan Xueci: “…”

He had been angry all night because he thought He Xunye lacked propriety. Hearing that He Xunye hadn’t fooled around with anyone, he logically should be happy, but what the hell was “first man”?!

Tan Xueci’s cheeks flushed slightly. He glared at him and whispered, “But… but they said you…”

“They were jealous of me,” He Xunye said, leaning lazily against the car door. The man’s features were deep and originally very cold, but he was always smiling at Tan Xueci. “Men like them who are so casual don’t understand that when I look for a ‘Hubby’, I have to be very selective.”

Tan Xueci: “…”

With so many demands, no wonder you couldn’t get a wife.

Tan Xueci walked forward grumbling, but his ears slowly turned scarlet. He Xunye followed behind him, stepping on his huffy shadow. Hearing the boy cursing him made him laugh instead. Like a pervert, he didn’t forget to flaunt his chastity.

“My first love is still here,” He Xunye said. “I am a ‘complete’ man.”

Tan Xueci cursed in his heart. I’ve already slept with you, what do you mean ‘complete’? Truly a filthy thing.

He walked forward with his head down, not knowing when the “dead guy” had appeared in front of him. He couldn’t stop in time and bumped right into him, but luckily He Xunye caught his shoulders.

“Will you make me ‘incomplete’?” He Xunye cupped his face. His dark peach-blossom eyes reflected the falling snow of the night. He sounded like he was talking nonsense, yet his gaze was very tender. “I’m a bit tired of being a ‘complete’ man.”

Tan Xueci looked up blankly.

He Xunye kissed his lips, his tone more serious than ever before. He looked at him and said, word by word: “Little Lamb, can you give me a chance to actually date you?”

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